Tag Archive | seniors

And Then She Said. . .and Did

Going from white belt to high white belt to yellow belt! What a thrill watching Grandest standing alone in the center of the large room so poised being tested for a yellow belt on Monday. Master Yu called out instructions, she followed, broke a board with the side of her foot this time. Applause, applause. Finally, test completed he called her forward to receive a trophy and a yellow belt. Beaming, she bowed and turned to her mommy and me on the sidelines. I do believe I saw a bit of swagger in her barefooted step. Yes, I did.

And Then She Said. . .further adventures from my grandest.

Waiting for the school bus, I hung on to the mail box to practice shuffle, hop, step- a basic tap step learned when I was about four. Four no more and a new hip, I can shuffle and step. The hop is gone replaced by a feeble lift of my heels. Oh well. At my age I don’t care what daughter’s neighbors say or care, I sang Sweet Geogia Brown to myself and practiced for about fifteen minutes until the the big yellow bus pulled up. Grandest ran into my arms almost knocking me over, waved to the driver and kids and talked endlessly.

As soon as I closed the door, she had a serious look on her sweet face, the same child who passed her high white belt test at Taekwando last Saturday and did a victory dance after.photo (6)

“Grans, I’m worried about kissing a boy on the lips.”

“Any special boy?”

“No, it just sounds yucky. Can I  have Mac and cheese. I have homework to do.” Mutitasking, she finished both food and homework and she suggested we go outside to play.

“Cool,” I said. We built a leaves and twigs thingy with stones sprinkled on top and then she ran to the big trampoline and scooped fallen leaves in a piles and fell into them. Suddenly she did a cartwheel.

“Honey, that’s a perfect cartwheel. Do it again.” I showed her how to breathe, stand and move. She worked on it for half and hour. Tenacious, my grandest.  You see why I plan to keep my job for many years?

My Mature Romances are written for a reason. They prove, since I’m a senior with lots of experience, that life isn’t over until the final curtain. Meanwhile, enjoy every blessed moment, smile a lot and people usually respond. Stay close to your loved ones if possible.

If you enjoy reading as much as I do, please check out The Beginning. . .Not The End, my first three stories of Mature Romance.



all 3 for print cover

Before the Final Curtain and the three story series comes to fruition!

Younger folks, I’m talking under fifty or thereabouts, may consider seniors to be the population doddering about. I say take another look. We still remember passion and recall it well; we long for the touch of a warm hand, the dear kiss, shared laughter. And why not? We breathe and think, therefore we are alive and romance blossoms within the pages of my three stories, all stand-alone. The common denominator is age.

I’m thrilled to bring you Before the Final Curtain.

Before the Final Courtain with theme border.jpg



Before the Final Curtain

by Charmaine Gordon


Book 3

The Beginning…Not the End, the series

Before the Final Curtain

by Charmaine Gordon


Once lovers, aging actors collide on stage as stars in a romantic comedy written and directed by a manipulative director. Add to the mix the talented assistant, a tough stage manager, one prominent costume designer, two young actors, secrets and gossip. Show business. There’s no business like it!



AMAZON KINDLEhttp://www.amazon.com/Before-Final-Curtain-Beginning-ebook/dp/B00FAG4ORE


SMASHWORDS ALL EBOOK FORMATShttps://www.smashwords.com/books/view/352418

ALL ROMANCE   https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-beforethefinalcurtain-1300436-149.html   


KOBO  http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/before-the-final-curtain  


APPLE  https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/before-the-final-curtain/id703132351      


NOOK  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/before-the-final-curtain-charmaine-gordon/1116875080



4/20/13 WEWRIWA

Welcome to the Sunday after the horrible bombing in Boston. Sunk so low in the inhuman evil, I couldn’t put two thoughts together all week. Prayers to the people in Boston where I lived for a long special time. And now back to my seniors on the Jersey Shore. She is a widow; he is a stranger with two young grand sons. Please join me to see what happens next as the story unfolds in eight.

excerpt in eight:

Patti and I were together for two weeks while daughter and her husband, what a good guy, went on a second honeymoon. I’d write the book my publisher waited for, at least get a good start, and Patti and I would have a lot of fun. Except Ralph, this man I just met-a space invader if I’ve ever seen one, stood up and put a kite together and asked if I’d keep an eye on the kids making sand castles while he made an attempt to fly his kite. “A maiden voyage, so to speak,” and he laughed a manly sound part of me had missed. I tucked my notebook away and figured I’d write after Patti went to sleep because a writer knows there’s nothing like a hot date with your imagination.  “Sure, uh Ralph, I’m a great watcher and gCharmaine Headshot for Author Centralood luck with your kite.”

Why oh why did I encourage him with sparkling repartee? A simple yes would have been enough.


for more snippets with the talented authors contributing here



4 chapters free read to introduce you to my latest release, The Catch.

4/14/13 WEWRIWA

Welcome to another eight sentences on Sunday. This week I continue with two seniors–the widow in a black bathing suit–, the Jersey shore, grandchildren and let’s see what develops. Mischief, I’m sure, one step at a time.

excerpt in eight:

I sat down, stretched out and greased up with one eye on Patti who had playmates to keep her busy and where did Ralph settle down? As if we had adjoining rooms, he set up camp next to me. The beach was crowded but really. . .not that crowded with lots of sandy real estate to spread out. I ignored him, removed pen and notebook from the old carryall and began to write a story lurking in the shadows of my mind.

A shipwreck with all passengers lost save one; a girl swims to shore. The wind blows her blond tresses dry as she strides on the sand, a trail of footprints in her wake. Her name is Claire.

Rereading the few lines I’d written, I thought this sounds as if Shakespeare wrote it; Twelfth Night; what in the world is going on?

http://www.WEWRIWA.com   for more snippets from the fine authors here


please share and like The Catch, my new novel just released. I’d appreciate your support. Thank you.



The Catch CVR 3


Tom Donnelly, once known as The Catch – every woman’s dream guy, has fallen down every rung of the ladder he once worked so hard to climb. On New Year’s Day, he realizes just how far he’s fallen, and makes a list of resolutions to change his life. He vows to regain the trust lost from his family, his law firm, and his friends – and maybe even find the right woman this time.

He crosses paths with Joanne McKenna Friedman – a smart young lawyer, beautiful on the outside, damaged on the inside. Joanne’s secret past leaves her distrustful of everyone. Until a court case comes up to threaten her career and even her life, and she turns to Tom for help.

4/7/13 WeWRIWA

Hello again. It’s definitely spring with daffodils bobbing yellow heads and hyacinths competing for attention. My sixth book ,The Catch,with Vanilla Heart was released Friday and I’ve been doing the happy dance ever since. The Catch CVR 3What a thrill to see it available in print and e format.

And this week I’m introducing a new story to WEWRIWA.

Two seniors meet by chance at the Jersey Shore. Let’s see where this takes us.

excerpt in eight:

Who’s taking care of you, little girl?” a deep male voice said.

My hackles went up and later I wondered what hackles were and asked the owner of the deep voice; he didn’t have a clue either.

I hurried across the hot sand to where my granddaughter, age five, sat on a blanket dimpling at a gray haired man with two little boys in tow and figured unless the stranger collected small kids for evil purpose, my little Patti seemed fine.

Here’s Granny, my roomy cause Mommy and Daddy are on vacation to Mexico.”

I’m Ralph Berg and these fine boys are my grandsons; Mike is four, Tony is six.

Hello, I’m Claire,” and I busied myself with straightening the blanket, sun chairs and clamping the umbrellas. Alone with my granddaughter for the first time on vacation at the Jersey shore, I applied sunscreen to a wiggling Patti, tied her purple hat in place and wished this Ralph person would leave the boys to play and  move on. I’m a widow, for God sake, can’t he tell I’m in mourning from my black bathing suit?

Charmaine Headshot for Author Centralfor more snippets WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS

Buy links for The Catch:





3/10/13 WEWRIWA

Charmaine Headshot for Author CentralWelcome friends and writers. Are  we having fun or what?

I continue with my senior romance and up to now everything is harmonious. Enter conflict. Where is a good story w/o it?

excerpt in eight:

A commotion disturbed the peaceful dining room as twin girls raced toward our table calling, “Grumpy, Grumpy.

How adorable I thought until I caught sight of their mother stalking toward us.

With effort Collin lifted a twin on each knee and kissed their rosy cheeks.

Hello, Karen and what brings you down to the club on this stormy Valentine’s Day?”

To me it looked as if his daughter brought the storm with her.

This is Kelly Corrigan, a friend from Helen Hayes Rehab. Kelly, these are my youngest grandchildren, Mary Ellen and Mary Jane.”

What’s good for lunch, Daddy?” and Karen pulled out a chair and called for a menu.

for more snippets http://wewriwa.com


Artist Link








Starting Over Charmaine Gordon Romance 03/06/10 Book Link
Reconstructing Charlie Charmaine Gordon Suspense 01/23/11 Book Link
Now What? Charmaine Gordon Romance 07/16/10 Book Link
Sin of Omission Charmaine Gordon Suspense 04/24/12 Book Link

2/24/13 #WeWriWa #SixSunday #8Sunday

Here we go for another eight sentences. I continue with my short story of romance with two seniors who meet while in Helen Hayes Rehabilitation Hospital. Will they consummate the growing attraction or is it just a passing affair?


Just then a gust of wind caught my coat and almost knocked me over. Strong arms kept me from taking a fall. And oh the feeling of those arms. His warmth came right through his jacket and toasted me right down to my toes.

He beckoned someone I didn’t see and suddenly a limousine pulled over and a liveried driver came around to open the door for us.

Liveried driver? Limousine? Hmm.

“Thomas, this is Mrs. Corrigan, lunch at the club.”

And we were off to The River Club at the Haverstraw Marina, seated by the window watching waves beat against the rocks and shore as a storm brewed.

for more snippets     http://wewriwa.com


2/17/13 #WeWriWa #SixSunday #8Sunday

Sunday #3 and I’m happy to be here slogging through February and hoping for an early Spring. Today I’m continuing with my seniors recovering from major body part replacements and finding sparks of romance on a cold winters day.

excerpt in eight:

My heart sped up just a beat or two and we walked along, me with a sense of security long missing. At my car, Collin searched my face as if he looked for answers and asked, “Are you for real?”

“’tis a strange question, Mr. Brody and I ask you do you mean am I human?  Yes I’m a woman all grown up, a widow if that’s what you want to know.”

“Hmm, lunch, is it?”

I wondered if I should accept his invitation and then decide to say yes. After all, he’s the one I’d been after. “Yes, lunch, it is.”

for more snippets     http://wewriwa.com



2/10/13 #WeWriWa #SixSunday #8Sunday

Blizzard or not, here I come with the second Weekend  Writer Warriors. I enjoyed last week meeting new friends and the camaraderie writers inspire.

This week, I continue with my short story of two mature people who meet at rehab recovering from surgery. Romance and surprises are in the air.

Excerpt in eight:

Nino, therapist supreme, put us through the paces for more than an hour and then my time ended with no date, no nothing except a few words exchanged with the Irish Sphinx. I’d noticed with my eagle eye, Collin Brody didn’t wear a gold band.

I tread carefully leaving the clinic as I made my way to the parking lot, finished for the cold windy day, a stiff wind blowing across the Hudson River nearby. Fear of falling made me wish for my cane left in the car and I stayed close to the building touching brick and stone for support.

Miss Corrigan, wait up. An old man needs your help, don’t ya know.”

The voice of Collin Brody, music to my ears, made me stop in my shaky tracks.

Old man, indeed and If you’re old, what does that make me?”

He caught up with me, took my arm and looking down from his height of maybe six feet, he said, “Makes you a tasty treat, I declare.”Charmaine Headshot for Author Central

for more snippets     http://wewriwa.com





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