by Cook, Claire
Refrigerate in sealed container for up to one week. Or freeze with your casseroles.
Note from
Claire Cook
Thanks so much for reading Must Love Dogs: New Leash on Life! (If you haven't read the original Must Love Dogs yet, here's the link to download your copy: http://amzn.to/1fHzzY6.) Or keep flipping the virtual pages to read an excerpt first.
If you enjoyed MLD: New Leash on Life, I hope you'll take a moment to post a review on Amazon, truly the nicest gift you can give an author. Click on this link and it will take you directly to the reviews page: http://amzn.to/1jo8Kf0 Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support.
Stay tuned for Must Love Dogs: Book 3! Make sure you sign up for my newsletter (http://clairecook.com/newsletter/) so you're the first to hear about the release. Lots of fun giveaways and insider extras coming up, too.
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New Leash on LIfe
Book Club Questions
You can find discussion questions for all my novels at http://ClaireCook.com. I love chatting with book clubs, so if you'd like me to call or Skype in—or visit in person if I happen to be in your neck of the woods—just send an email via my website with information about your book club and some suggested dates, and I'll do my best to make one work.
Which Hurlihy family member is most like you? Which would you most like to hang out with?
Do you wish the Hurlihy family could adopt you? Or do they make you seriously grateful for your own family?
Reinvention is the overarching theme of Claire Cook's eleven novels. Which characters in this book do you think are trying to reinvent their lives in some way? How? Which ones do you think will be successful?
Sarah says about Keli, "She was every popular girl who had ever upstaged me, ignored me, outshined me." Why do you think Keli triggers these feelings in Sarah? Do you think most people feel this way occasionally, or are they able to leave the past completely behind?
John tells Sarah, "Horatio is just one more excuse to push me away." True? Why or why not? Do you think Horatio's jealous behavior is common? Has this kind of thing ever happened to you or anyone you know?
"Maybe once you'd been through a divorce, it becomes the touchstone you always went back to when you were trying to gauge how bad something was." What other touchstones like this can you think of?
"Maybe deep down inside we were all still in our formative years. Maybe it was never to late for any of us to change." Agree? Disagree?
About the Gamiacs, Sarah says to John, "It's so not fair that childhood lasts longer these days." Does childhood really last longer these days? Does saying "these days" make you officially old?
Sarah wonders "how anybody ever stayed with anybody and how they somehow, against all odds, managed to make it work." What do you think is the secret to making a long-term relationship work? Luck? Communication? Wine?
"What are sisters for if not to point out the things the rest of the world is too polite to mention." Do you think this is true? Is it also true about good friends? How are relationships with sisters and friends different? The same?
Must Love Dogs: New Leash on Life is the second book of the new Must Love Dogs series. What do you hope will happen in future books?
The original Must Love Dogs became a movie starring Diane Lane, John Cusack, Christopher Plummer, Stockard Channing, Elizabeth Perkins, Dermot Mulroney and more. Do you think Book 2, Must Love Dogs: New Leash on Life would make a good movie? Would you change the casting? Who do you think should play Sugar Butt?
Excerpt
Must Love Dogs: Book 1
©Claire Cook, 2002. 2013. All rights reserved.
I decided to listen to my family and get back out there. "There's life after divorce, Sarah," my father proclaimed, not that he'd ever been divorced.
"The longer you wait, the harder it'll be" was my sister Carol's little gem, as if she had some way of knowing whether or not that was true.
After months of ignoring them, responding to a personal ad in the newspaper seemed the most detached way to give in. I wouldn't have to sit in a restaurant with a friend of a friend of one of my brothers, probably Michael's, but maybe Johnny's or Billy Jr.'s, pretending to enjoy a meal I was too nervous to taste. I needn't endure even a phone conversation with someone my sister Christine had talked into calling me. My prospect and I would quietly connect on paper or we wouldn't.
HONEST, HOPELESSLY ROMANTIC, old-fashioned gentleman seeks lady friend who enjoys elegant dining, dancing and the slow bloom of affection. WM, n/s, young 50s, widower, loves dogs, children and long meandering bicycle rides.
The ad jumped out at me the first time I looked. There wasn't much competition. Rather than risk a geographic jump to one of the Boston newspapers, I'd decided it was safer and less of an effort to confine my search to the single page of classifieds in the local weekly. Seven towns halfway between Boston and Cape Cod were clumped together in one edition. Four columns of "Women Seeking Men." A quarter of a column of "Men Seeking Women," two entries of "Women Seeking Women," and what was left of that column was "Men Seeking Men."
I certainly had no intention of adding to the disheartening surplus of heterosexual women placing ads, so I turned my attention to the second category. It was comprised of more than its share of control freaks, like this guy—Seeking attractive woman between 5'4" and 5'6", 120-135 lbs., soft-spoken, no bad habits, financially secure, for possible relationship. I could picture this dreamboat making his potential relationships step on the scale and show their bank statements before he penciled them in for a look-see.
And then this one. Quaint, charming, almost familiar somehow. When I got to the slow bloom of affection, it just did me in. Made me remember how lonely I was.
I circled the ad in red pen, then tore it out of the paper in a jagged rectangle. I carried it over to my computer and typed a response quickly, before I could change my mind:
Dear Sir:
You sound too good to be true, but perhaps we could have a cup of coffee together anyway—at a public place. I am a WF, divorced, young 40, who loves dogs and children, but doesn't happen to have either.
—Cautiously Optimistic
I mailed my letter to a Box 308P at the County Connections offices, which would, in turn, forward it. I enclosed a small check to secure my own box number for responses. Less than a week later I had my answer:
Dear Madam:
Might I have the privilege of buying you coffee at Morning Glories in Marshbury at 10 AM this coming Saturday? I'll be carrying a single yellow rose.
—Awaiting Your Response
The invitation was typed on thick ivory paper with an actual typewriter, the letters O and E forming solid dots of black ink, just like the old manual of my childhood. I wrote back simply, Time and place convenient. Looking forward to it.
I didn't mention my almost-date to anyone, barely even allowed myself to think about its possibilities. There was simply no sense in getting my hopes up, no need to position myself for a fall.
I woke up a few times Friday night, but it wasn't too bad. It's not as if I stayed up all night tossing and turning. And I tried on just a couple of different outfits on Saturday morning, finally settling on a yellow sweater and a long skirt with an old-fashioned floral print. I fluffed my hair, threw on some mascara and brushed my teeth a second time before heading out the door.
Morning Glories is just short of trendy, a delightfully overgrown hodgepodge of sun-streaked greenery, white lattice, and round button tables with mismatched iron chairs. The coffee is strong and the baked goods homemade and delicious. You could sit at a table for hours without getting dirty looks from the people who work there.
The long Saturday morning take-out line backed up to the door, and it took me a minute to maneuver my way over to the
tables. I scanned quickly, my senses on overload, trying to pick out the rose draped across the table, to remember the opening line I had rehearsed on the drive over.
"Sarah, my darlin' girl. What a lovely surprise. Come here and give your dear old daddy a hug."
"Dad? What are you doing here?"
"Well, that's a fine how-do-you-do. And from one of my very favorite daughters at that."
"Where'd you get the rose, Dad?"
"Picked it this morning from your dear mother's rose garden. God rest her soul."
"Uh, who's it for?"
"A lady friend, honey. It's the natural course of this life that your dad would have lady friends now, Sarry. I feel your sainted mother whispering her approval to me every day."
"So, um, you're planning to meet this lady friend here, Dad?"
"That I am, God willing."
Somewhere in the dusty corners of my brain, synapses were connecting. "Oh my God. Dad. I'm your date. I answered your personal ad. I answered my own father's personal ad." I mean, of all the personal ads in all the world I had to pick this one?
My father looked at me blankly, then lifted his shaggy white eyebrows in surprise. His eyes moved skyward as he cocked his head to one side. He turned his palms up in resignation. "Well, now, there's one for the supermarket papers. Honey, it's okay, no need to turn white like you've seen a ghost. Here. This only proves I brought you up to know the diamond from the riffraff."
Faking a quick recovery is a Hurlihy family tradition, so I squelched the image of a single yellow rose in a hand other than my father's. I took a slow breath, assessing the damage to my heart. "Not only that, Dad, but maybe you and I can do a Jerry Springer show together. How 'bout 'Fathers Who Date Daughters'? I mean, this is big, Dad. The Oedipal implications alone—"
"Oedipal, smedipal. Don't be getting all college on me now, Sarry girl." My father peered out from under his eyebrows. "And lovely as you are, you're even lovelier when you're a smidgen less flip."
I swallowed back the tears that seemed to be my only choice besides flip, and sat down in the chair across from my father. Our waitress came by and I managed to order a coffee. "Wait a minute. You're not a young fifty, Dad. You're seventy-one. And when was the last time you rode a bike? You don't own a bike. And you hate dogs."
"Honey, don't be so literal. Think of it as poetry, as who I am in the bottom of my soul. And, Sarah, I'm glad you've started dating again. Kevin was not on his best day good enough for you, sweetie."
"I answered my own father's personal ad. That's not dating. That's sick."
My father watched as a pretty waitress leaned across the table next to ours. His eyes stayed on her as he patted my hand and said, "You'll do better next time, honey. Just keep up the hard work." I watched as my father raked a clump of thick white hair away from his watery brown eyes. The guy could find a lesson in . . . Jesus, a date with his daughter.
"Oh, Dad, I forgot all about you. You got the wrong date, too. You must be lonely without Mom, huh?"
The waitress stood up, caught my father's eye and smiled. She walked away, and he turned his gaze back to me. "I think about her every day, all day. And will for the rest of my natural life. But don't worry about me. I have a four o'clock."
"What do you mean, a four o'clock? Four o'clock Mass?"
"No, darlin'. A wee glass of wine at four o'clock with another lovely lady. Who couldn't possibly hold a candle to you, my sweet."
I supposed that having a date with a close blood relative was far less traumatic if it was only one of the day's two dates. I debated whether to file that tidbit away for future reference, or to plunge into deep and immediate denial that the incident had ever happened. I lifted my coffee mug to my lips. My father smiled encouragingly.
Perhaps the lack of control was in my wrist. Maybe I merely forgot to swallow. But as my father reached across the table with a pile of paper napkins to mop the burning coffee from my chin, I thought it even more likely that I had simply never learned to be a grown-up.
Keep Reading…Download your copy of the original Must Love Dogs here: http://amzn.to/1fHzzY6
Be the first to find out when Book 3 of the new Must Love Dogs series comes out! Sign up for my newsletter at http://clairecook.com/newsletter/. Stay in the loop for giveaways and insider extras, too.
PRAISE FOR MUST LOVE DOGS
"Funny and pitch-perfect."—Chicago Tribune
"Cook dishes up plenty of charm."
—San Francisco Chronicle
"If Must Love Dogs is any indication of her talents, readers will hope that Claire Cook will be telling
breezy stories from the South Shore of
Massachusetts for seasons to come."
—The Washington Post
"Claire Cook's character's aren't rich or glamorous— they're physically imperfect, emotionally insecure, and deeply familiar. Must Love Dogs is a sweet, funny novel about first dates and second chances."—Tom Perrotta
"Reading Must Love Dogs is like having lunch with your best friend—fun, breezy, and full of laughs."
—Lorna Landvik
"Funny and quirky and honest."—Jane Heller
"A truly joyful read."—Jeanne Ray
"Eternally hopeful book reviewer seeks wildly witty novel on singles scene/personal ads. Stylish prose and sense of humor preferred. Looking for fun, not longterm entanglement. Must love readers. Respondents to such an ad might include Claire Cook, whose new novel, Must Love Dogs, tells the story of a down-to-earth divorcee seeking companionship through the personals."—USA Today
"Cook employs just enough glibness and smarty-pants humor to make this tart slice-of-the-single-life worth reading."—Publishers Weekly
"[A] laugh-out-loud novel . . . a light and lively read for anyone who has ever tried to re-enter the dating scene or tried to 'fix up' somebody else."—Boston Herald
"Claire Cook's Must Love Dogs, a book that's got more giggles than soda bread has raisins.''
—Hartford Courant
"This utterly charming novel by Cook is a fun read, perfect for whiling away an afternoon on the beach."
—Library Journal
"A hilariously original tale about dating and its place in a modern woman's life."—BookPage
Claire Cook Books
Thanks so much for reading and spreading the word about my books!
Visit my Amazon Author Page here: http://amzn.to/1etgBX4
MUST LOVE DOGS
THE WILDWATER WALKING CLUB
TIME FLIES
WALLFLOWER IN BLOOM
BEST STAGED PLANS
SEVEN YEAR SWITCH
SUMMER BLOWOUT
LIFE'S A BEACH
MULTIPLE CHOICE
READY TO FALL
MUST LOVE DOGS: New Leash on Life
and coming soon…
MUST LOVE DOGS: Book 3
ABOUT CLAIRE
I wrote my first novel in my minivan at 45. At 50, I walked the red carpet at the Hollywood premiere of the adaptation of my second novel, Must Love Dogs, starring Diane Lane and John Cusack. If you have a buried dream, trust me, it is NEVER too late! And I guess it's no surprise that reinvention is the overarching theme of my novels and my life. I like to think the heroines in my (eleven and counting!) novels have helped lots of women find their own next chapters, and I also take great joy in sharing what I've learned so far on the Reinvention and Writing pages at http://ClaireCook.com.
My books have been called everything from romantic comedy to women's fiction to beach reads to chick lit. Honestly, it doesn't matter to me what you call them. I just hope you read and enjoy them!
I was born in Virginia, and lived for many years in Scituate, Massachusetts, a beach town between Boston and Cape Cod. My husband and I have recently moved to the suburbs of Atlanta to be closer to our two adult kids, who actually want us around again! I spend lots of time hanging out on Facebook (http://facebook.com/ClaireCookauthorpage), Twitter (http://twitter.com/ClaireCookwrite) and Pinterest (http
://pinterest.com/ClaireCookwrite), and I hope you'll join me there!
I have the world's most fabulous readers and I'm forever grateful to all of you for giving me the gift of this career.
Midlife Rocks!
xxxxxClaire
Be the first to find out when my next book comes out and stay in the loop for giveaways and insider excerpts: (http://clairecook.com/newsletter/)
Acknowledgments
Must Love Readers! Once again, my biggest slice of gratitude goes to you. Over and over again, via email and Facebook and Twitter, you asked for more from the Must Love Dogs characters, and I'm so glad I finally listened to you. I'm having a blast revisiting them and I hope you are, too.
A huge alphabetical thank-you to Lisa Bankoff, Ken Harvey, Beth Hoffman, and Jack Kramer for reading drafts of this manuscript and making spot-on and much-appreciated suggestions.
Thanks to Allison Winn Scotch and Karen McQuestion for camaraderie and generosity, and to Wendy Wax for being able to walk and share at the same time. Thanks to Pam Kramer for support and encouragement and all things dog. Thanks to the teachers on my Facebook and Twitter feeds for bringing that world back to me. Thanks to my Marshbury peeps and to my own big family for your support.
