Good Saturday to you, !

First up—holy moly, apparently I've found my people in you!

The message I sent two weekends ago generated more replies—and more delightful oversharing!—than I've ever had in response to an email in almost three years and well over 100 jibber jabbers.

If you missed it, it's here: 🫣 Fair warning if TMI "ooks" you out ...

If you wrote back and I've not yet replied—I promise I will. I've read every response, but replying takes time since I like to be thoughtful. And most of your stories require much more than a simple thumbs up.

Do you Wordle?

I joined the craze many months ago then had to take the damn game off my phone (it's actually a Wordle alternative called Word Daily, but same-same) since, it turns out, I can play for the entire life of a cell phone battery. It was giving me carpal tunnel pain so not only stealing work hours while I played but for days after!

Last week, in a moment of boredom and not feeling well, I reinstalled it. I freaking love this game!

Do you play? If you do, do you have a word that you always start with? If so, what's your logic using that word?

I have a pair that are my first two words since together they use every vowel and I feel like if I know the vowels, 80% of the work is done.

I promised myself that once the game bested me, I'd remove it from my phone.

I haven't yet deleted it. But I also haven't played since I lost.

I'm torn. I was arrogant when I made that promise to myself since ... look at that record! (I missed a few screen captures but they were all wins, I assure you!)

What would you do?

Should I keep my promise to myself? Would you?

Is there a game you play a bit too much of? Should I try it?? 🤓

Free rom-com for your Sunday ... since reading is a more productive way to relax. Right?

(After last week's email, be grateful I didn't take inspiration for my message from this title! 🐶 🙈)

Doggy Style by Alana Albertson

Preston Evans is a legend in and out of the bedroom. He’s six foot two, gorgeous, and famous because his celebrity ex snapchatted his huge package. I hate him. I hate his stupid puppy store, Doggy Style. I hate the way he looks at me like I’m a piece of meat. I don’t care that his abs are chiseled, his arms are tattooed, and his face belongs on the cover of a magazine. Every dog bred means a shelter dog dead!

I chain myself to his store in protest, but instead of calling the cops, he throws me a bone.

If I spend one week with him in Hawaii pretending to be his fiancée to snag an investor, he will transform his store into a shelter dog adoption center, saving thousands of dogs’ lives.

One week and I never have to see this sexy, dirty-talking jerk again. How hard can he, uh I mean it, be?

Sex is off the table. So why do I want him to bend me over it?

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It's dinner time in the Bloom household and my darling husband has made a potato and ground pork vindaloo! Yummy! Have I mentioned that the best impulse purchase I've ever made in my entire life was an InstantPot?

Dave loves using it. In fact, last week he made yogurt in it! So good, since he used half-and-half cream mixed with 3% milk ... it's the most decadent yogurt ever!

love&wordstuff,

Danika

xo

PS—If you haven't read any of my steamy, funny romance novels ... have a peek at all my stories and load one up on your phone or ereader.

This weekend, I'm reading Crazy Apologetic Canadians by Cathryn Fox. Highly recommend!