BESTSELLING AND AWARD WINNING AUTHOR OF WESTERN ROMANCE!
Caroline Clemmons writes historical and contemporary genre fiction. Historical romances, contemporary romantic suspense, mysteries, and paranormals are among her current works. Learn more about her at https//www.carolineclemmons.com
Twelve years ago Jim Rustle packed up and left his home in
Idaho and hasn’t looked back. He gets
quite an awakening when Lisa Parker, whom he hadn’t seen in all those years,
breaks into a business meeting and uses some colorful adjectives to tell him just
what she thinks of him.
Sparks fly between the two when he decides to follow Lisa
home and sees what has happened in his absence.
Is the anger stemming from the present, or from the past?
It’s Christmas time.
Can an ornament from years past help heal betrayals that have festered
for years?
A black cowboy hat sat low on her
head, shadowing her face. Light brown
straight hair with white blonde streaks throughout swayed almost to her waist.
The sign, Wagner, INC, was in large
block letters above a double door that was opened. The receptionist at the
desk, Dani according to the name plate, was on the phone, taking a
message. Her hair was black and cut in a
perfect short bob. Dani looked up to see the woman standing in front of
her. She sat back in her chair, staring
at the visitor, and finished the call with “I’ll have Jim call you as soon as
he is done with his meeting, John.” The
receptionist’s eyes never left the face of the woman standing in front of her.
Dani took her time hanging up the
phone and finishing writing the message.
“May I help you?”
“Jim Rustle,” was all the woman
said.
The corner of Dani’s mouth
rose. “I’m afraid he is in a meeting and
will be busy most of the afternoon. I
can take your name and ask him to call.”
The woman was looking behind Dani
at the closed door that said James Rustle on it. “No need.” She walked past Dani and headed to
the door.
“Wait! You can’t go in there!” The composed Dani was anything but.
The woman threw the door open. The
office had a large desk made of rich cherry wood. Opposite it stood two small
padded chairs of deep brown leather. On
the other side of the room stood a small conference table with blue prints
spread out all over it.
The woman, once again, saw none of
it. Her eyes were trained on the man
sitting behind the desk. For a split
second, the words caught in her throat.
She hadn’t seen Jim Rustle for twelve years. His dark brown hair was clipped short. His smoky gray eyes were as hypnotic as she
remembered. He wore a pair of navy suit
trousers, a navy vest, and a white long sleeved shirt, with the top two buttons
undone. The suit jacket was draped over
his chair. The man was more handsome
than when he walked out of her life, if that was possible.
“Jim, I’m sorry but this…this woman
just went right by me when I told her you were busy and couldn’t be
disturbed.” Dani was clearly distraught.
Before he had a chance to answer,
the woman walked to the desk and leaned her hands on it. “You selfish, arrogant, self-absorbed,
SOB. Are you so important you can’t find
time, yet again, to spend Christmas with the one person in this world that
thinks the sun rises and sets in you, no matter how many times you have chosen
to put everything and everybody else above her?
Not to mention the woman who raised you and made it possible for you to
go to college so you could sit in this office and be the overblown ass that you
have become?”
Fire was shooting out of her hazel
eyes and her chest was heaving with anger.
The two men that were sitting in the meeting and Dani, standing at the
door, were watching with their mouths hanging open. They had never seen someone talk to their
boss like that and walk away without limping.
Something flickered in his eyes –
anger, guilt, or maybe appreciation in what he was seeing. “Men,” he said, never taking his eyes off the
woman, “we’ll finish this meeting later.
Dani –“
“Don’t bother. I know how important
your time is.” Sarcasm dripped with
every word. She turned to leave.
“Lisa,” he said stopping her. “I see you still aren’t married.”
Lisa closed her eyes as if praying
for restraint. Her words didn’t have the
disdain in them when she said, tiredly, “Annie doesn’t have much time,
Jim. Give her a break.”
A WORD FROM P. A. ESTELLE
Thanks so much for taking a look at my new Christmas story,
THE ORNAMENT.
I write for all ages, from the early reader to adults. My books range from pictures books for the
little ones, to fantasy, time-travel adventures for ages 9 to 13. I also write
adult stories, including a family drama and contemporary, paranormal and historical
westerns romances, under P. A. Estelle.
I was a school secretary for 21 years. My husband and I moved to our retirement home
in Kingman, AZ, on very rural 54 acres, living on solar and wind only.
More about my books can be found in the following links:
Thank you so much, Caroline
for welcoming me to your blog. I’m pretty excited about the release of the
first book in my Welcome to Ravenwood series ~ MAN OF HER DREAMS.
About MAN OF HER DREAMS:
Making it in a man’s world as
a home renovation expert is tough, but Lindsay Swanson’s up for the job,
leaving no time for family and friends, let alone any kind of social life.
Jared Kane moved to Ravenwood
for some much needed peace and quiet to finish his next book, which is hard to
do when he’s hired his sexy neighbor to renovate his kitchen.
Then Lindsay overhears Jared
talking about her notebook. A notebook wherein she and her BFF – after one too
many bad dates and one too many glasses wine – concocted a checklist of the
perfect guy. Is Jared the real deal, or has he been molding himself into the
man of her dreams to get past her defenses?
A Fun Excerpt from MAN OF HER DREAMS:
(Author’s Note) – Some scenes
were so much fun to write, and I loved the friendship between Lindsay and Tina
(also her sister-in-law). I hope you enjoy
The
whine of a miter saw became louder.
What
was he doing now?
Lindsay
minimized the application on her computer and swiveled to look out the second
story window. Her home office overlooked the new neighbor’s driveway. A
neighbor who’d become extremely distracting.
She
couldn’t make out his features, with a baseball cap covering his face from her
elevated view, but she sure could see his body. At that moment Tina’s ringtone
sang out.
“Hello?”
“What’s
shakin’ bacon? Still watching Hot Stuff next door?”
Lindsay
dropped the curtain as if burned.
“No.”
She faced her computer, which had gone into screen saver mode. “I’m at my
computer.” She jiggled her mouse and a CAD program popped up, displaying a
current renovation.
“You
are such a liar. I’ll bet you haven’t touched your mouse until right now.”
Lindsay
let go of the mouse. How did Tina always know what she was doing? It was like
she had a spy camera in her office.
“I
shouldn’t have told you what he was doing.”
“Well,
you did and now I want to know more.”
“You’re
a married woman. You shouldn’t think this way.”
Tina
laughed out loud. “I may be married, but I’m not dead. Besides, I can look at
the dessert tray as long as I don’t place an order.” Lindsay imagined Tina’s
eyebrows waggling while she spoke.
“Come on, woman. Feed my avarice.”
“Avarice?”
“I’m
doing crosswords at the doctor’s office while I wait for my appointment. Stop
stalling. Give me details. Have you figured out what he’s up to?”
Lindsay
stood, and partially concealed by her curtains she watched, as she had for most
of the morning. What she saw pushed her pulse into overdrive.
All
sweaty in a pair of low-rise Levi’s and scruffy work boots, Hot Stuff grabbed a
water bottle and sucked back huge gulps. As his thirst was quenched, her mouth
became paradoxically drier. His wide shoulders and hard chest looked as though
they’d been sculpted by Michelangelo himself. Twin ropes of muscles carved
around six pack abs, causing her heart to trip along a little faster.
“Well?”
Tina whispered into the phone.
“He’s
finished clearing the backyard.” Lindsay whispered back. “Now he’s cutting
lumber, but they’re too short for even a deck.”
“More.
Give me more.”
“I
don’t know if you’re ready for this. He’s shirtless.”
“You’re
killing me,” Tina groaned. “Is he built?”
“Like
a Greek god.”
“Noooo….
So unfair. I don’t have any hot neighbors, just acres and acres of corn
fields.”
Sue resides in beautiful
Southwestern Ontario, Canada with her retired air force husband, close to their
sons and families. The other members of the Barr clan are furry, and demanding.
Very demanding. The kids were easier....
When not busy writing, Sue
loves to spend time with family and friends. She sings along with the radio in
the car hoping no one sees, has been known to laugh until it hurts, sneaks a
few non-healthy things.... ugh.... a LOT of non-healthy things into her diet,
and thanks God daily for allowing her to have this wonderful, wonderful life.
For more information about
Sue’s books or to sign up for her newsletter and get the skinny on new
releases, visit her website: www.suebarrauthor.com - NO Spam policy. Pinkie
swear.
SOUTHERN PEACH PIE AND A DEAD GUY Book Summary
(Poppy Peters Mysteries Book 1)
:
After an injury derails Poppy Peters' ballet career, she gathers the courage to follow in her grandmother's footsteps and attend Calle Pastry Academy in a small-town in Georgia. Poppy has her work cut out for her not only fitting in with her charming (and not-so-charming ) Southern classmates but also proving her worth to her teachers after her first publicly humiliating attempt a making the school's famous peach pie. But Poppy's pastry problems go from bad to worse when she's suddenly accused of stealing expensive black truffles, and her attempt to clear her name goes awry...resulting in her finding a dead body instead! If Poppy's going to survive this culinary experience, she'll need to find the missing truffles and track down a killer, all while honing her baking skills to compete in the school's dessert competition for a coveted pastry internship in Paris. Can Poppy prove she's one tough cookie? Or is her life about to crumble?
**Recipes Included**
CHOCOLATE MACAROONS AND A DEAD GROOM Book Summary
(Poppy Peters Mysteries Book 2)
When Poppy Peters takes an internship in Paris working for a top pastry chef, she realizes that bakery life isn't all cupcakes and frosting. The sous pastry chef dislikes foreigners, her mentor only speaks French, and to top that all off she finds the groom of the wedding she's catering dead in his own backyard. But Lord Dovington wasn't just a handsome royal waiting to sweep his bride-to-be off of her feet. He was also a well-known playboy with a long line of vengeful exes.
Now, as one of the prime suspects, Poppy must prove she's innocent . . . and that her recipe for chocolate macaroons isn't to blame. But the clock is ticking, and with a missing diamond, a break-in, and a hot batch of reporters on her tail, Poppy has a lot of sifting to do. Will she find the killer before she too gets baked?
**Recipes Included**
BANANAS FOSTER AND A DEAD MOBSTER Book Summary
(Poppy Peters Mysteries Book 3)
Reluctant sleuth Poppy Peters is back in Georgia, and her last semester of pastry school is no icing on the cake when a body is discovered at the local farmer's market, and the murder weapon has Poppy's name on it. Not to mention, the victim belonged to a deadly southern crime family. Now, Poppy is being tailed by the mafia, and it doesn't help that the school's new pastry instructor has her working with her worst rival. But after a heart-stopping car chase, a frightening discovery at an old jam factory, and a spontaneous trip to New Orleans, Poppy discovers a secret that makes her past feats look like a piece of peach pie. Poppy's chances of making it to graduation day are about to go up in flames just like her Bananas Foster.
**Recipes included!**
Praise for the Book
"A sweet and satisfying mystery that will leave you hungry for more! A. Gardner's Poppy Peters Mysteries have earned a place on my keeper shelf!"
~ Gemma Halliday, New York Times bestselling mystery author
"A. Gardner cooks up one fabulous mystery with this Southern suspense."
~Pauline Michael, Night Owl Reviews
Excerpt
My first encounter with a southern guy isn't going so well. So far I've admitted I have never tried sweet tea, and my big toe is a little too long for the shoes I am wearing. Nice one, Poppy. Now he is going to think I am a weird westerner with a foot fetish. I try hard not to look down at my black, high-heeled boots. Why am I the only one on campus wearing any black?
"My name is Cole," the man says with a grin on his face. I reach out to shake his hand. My palms are sweating just like every other place on my body. I haven't even turned thirty yet, and I'm already having hot flashes. It is going to take me some time to get used to this heat.
"Poppy Peters," I reply. I wipe my forehead and underneath my eyes. I bite my lip when I see a bit of smeared mascara on the side of my finger. It is so humid my makeup is melting off. "Is it always this hot here?"
"Welcome to Georgia." Cole chuckles and shrugs as we walk towards the student bakery. Cole is one of the first students I bumped into at the registration office. His lemon-colored T-shirt shines bright compared to his dark skin, and his impressive physique makes me look at him twice. His eyes are intriguing—an even mix of blue and green.
As we walk, I can't help but admire how lush the vegetation is on campus. Every tree outstretches towards the sidewalks, providing a much needed break from the glaring sun. The patches of grass remind me of ocean waves, if the ocean sparkled like emeralds. Even the flowerbeds near the Administration building had bundles of purple and orange wildflowers that couldn't be contained.
"What's that smell?" I ask. "And don't say it smells like fresh meat. I heard a teacher in the Registrar's Office use that joke about a hundred times."
"I'll show you."
I follow Cole across campus until the heavenly smell of baked bread and sugary doughnuts grows stronger. I long for that smell sometimes. It takes me back to my schoolgirl days when I spent my weekends in the kitchen with Grandma Liz. My Grandma Liz came to CallePastryAcademy when she was in her early twenties. I imagine her tiny frame and long, dancer legs. It's a miracle that she came to this school and still stayed so thin.
Author A. Gardner
A. Gardner is a native westerner exploring the sweet bites of the south. After years of working in the healthcare industry, she moved across the country with her husband and adventurous baby boy. She is a mystery and romance writer with a serious cupcake obsession and a love of storytelling that began at an early age. When she is not writing, she is either chasing after her son, out for a swim, trying out a new recipe, or painting her nails bright blue.
$50 Blast Giveaway
Enter to win an Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash
Ends 12/20/15
Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by readinglight.com. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.
Her face was the only thing that had kept him sane during his deployment. At this moment, however, thoughts of Morgan had been pushed to the side for reasons of pure survival. Declan wiped the mud from his eye with a swift movement of his hand, just quick enough so that he could see again. Booming thunder went off near and far.
Swearing under his breath, Declan closed one eye and squinted the other shut as he spied his target. Breathe. One, two, three… he could do this. The first time he’d had to shoot another man he had faltered, hesitated only the briefest of seconds, during which time the man escaped his line of sight and shot a fellow soldier in the leg, causing serious injury.
This time, Declan concentrated, aimed his M4 rifle, and fired. The distinct thud of a man dropping to the ground confirmed the target had been hit. Swiping at the sweat in his eyes from the sweltering mid-day heat, Declan gulped and struggled to his knees. Lining up his rifle again, his neck and shoulders ached with fatigue. He bit down and gritted his teeth, tasting dirt while fighting off the pain.
It seemed as if hours had gone by, when in fact, it had probably only been minutes when finally the haunting sound of gunfire ceased. Not one to trust silence in any setting, Declan mentally counted upward until he reached near fifty.
“All clear,” his buddy, Sean, called out. “All clear.”
Declan, always cautious, still maintained his position until he heard his fellow soldiers from his platoon begin to speak. Peeking up from his ravine, Declan rose slowly to his feet as the rifle was pressed to his side.
Surveying the damage, it appeared that several of their enemies were lying still on the ground. The man he had shot lay still, appearing lifeless. Another man lay several feet away. It seemed the enemies had taken off, deserting the boundaries of the mountainous terrain of Afghanistan. His platoon mates fell silent, all business as they quickly gathered their belongings to head back to base.
Declan clutched his rifle, drawing closer to his victim. Curiosity had gotten the best of him. Fully aware of his previous actions, Declan stepped even closer. He had never killed a man before — injured, yes, but never killed. This man did not appear to be alive.
His heart sped up as sweat caused his fatigues to cling to his body. For God’s sake, the man looked to have been only in his early twenties at best. What have I done? What are we doing here? Waves of nausea rose and Declan swallowed hard.
“Hey! Step back!” Sean called out. “Move out! I repeat, move out!”
Hearing his friend call out to him, Declan turned toward the sound of his voice, realizing his mistake seconds too late. He should have known better; he should have. But no amount of training can prepare you for taking another man’s life.
Glancing swiftly at Sean through tear-stained eyes, he saw the movement in his peripheral vision. Sean raced to the open dirt road. They were sitting ducks, in plain sight. The man that Declan had presumed dead, the one he had shot, raised his own rifle and fired at Sean, who dropped instantly to ground.
“No! No!” Declan spun his head back to the imminent threat, a moment too late. The force of the explosion knocked him to the ground in an instant. Morgan’s face was the last thing that registered in his mind as another shot fired, leaving his world black.
****
Clouds scattered overhead, cries of gulls bringing back another time, a different memory, sitting here with Declan by her side. Morgan squeezed her jaw, fighting back the pain.
Months later, there was still no word from Declan. On the Internet, she had searched out his name relentlessly but there was no mention of Declan, no death certificates and his name couldn’t be found on any list of casualties of the war. It was as if he had simply disappeared, but that wasn’t possible and she feared the worst. He was gone and there was no closure for Morgan, as his only living relatives were his mom and some family living on the west coast, whom Declan hadn’t seen in years. Even she and Declan’s old friend, Stephen seemed to be losing touch.
She could sit on this beach and watch the water forever; it was a place Declan had cherished, a place she felt close to him. Never again would her life be the same without Declan Blake. How was she going to make it without him?
The world was quiet and without joy for Morgan. Even Morgan’s mother nagged her to speak with a therapist. She didn’t see the purpose of smiling or laughing when it was all forced. Constant thoughts of Declan plagued her day and night.
Morgan nearly jumped when her cell rang. First instincts were to let the call go to voicemail, but she knew the person calling would only persist. That’s how it had been lately; she would ignore phone calls only to find tons of messages waiting.
It was Elle, calling for the second time that day. “Hi, Elle.”
“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you for hours,” Elle exclaimed.
“I don’t know, I’m just hanging out.”
“Down by the river again?” Elle inquired.
“Yup,” Morgan responded as she moved her foot around in the sand.
“Figured as much.”
Elle’s voice sounded odd, almost as if she were hearing her close by. Morgan turned to see her friend walking toward her on the grassy path leading to the small beach.
Rising to her feet, Morgan felt tears escape. Elle was by her side, arms wrapped around her within moments. Morgan released Elle and took a small step back.
“Oh, Elle, what am I going to do?” she sobbed.
“You’re going to live, dammit. Declan would want you to be happy.”
“How? How can I forget about him, just move on?” It wasn’t possible, she had tried, and it just wasn’t working. Even when she was at work, she was just going through the motions; she did her job, but her heart wasn’t the same.
“I think it’s time for you to see someone to talk about all of this. You’ve waited long enough.”
She was right and so was her mother, believe it or not. “I will, Elle. I will because I don’t know what else to do.”
“Morgan, you’re the strongest person I know. You have so much happiness and love to share. I have full confidence in you. You’re going to make it and come out stronger in the end.” Elle spoke through her own tears.
“Thanks, Elle. I love you.” Morgan felt better knowing there was someone on her side rooting for her.
Mya O'Malley was born and raised in the suburbs of New York City, where she currently lives with her husband, daughter and three step-daughters. The family also consists of a boxer, Destiny and a ragdoll cat named Colby. Mya earned an undergraduate degree in special education and a graduate degree in reading and literacy. She works as a special education teacher and enjoys making a difference in the lives of her students.
Mya's passion is writing; she has been creating stories and poetry since she was a child. Mya spends her free time reading just about anything she can get her hands on. She is a romantic at heart and loves to create stories with unforgettable characters. Mya likes to travel; she has visited several Caribbean Islands, Mexico and Costa Rica. Mya is currently working on her eighth novel.
Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by readinglight.com. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.
My love of the west and the area where I grew up, led me to
write the Christmas Novella in the Silver Belles and Stetson Western
Christmas Anthology. Christmas Redemption came about from
my reading a story about a man from Joseph, OR who robbed a bank as a young man
and twenty-seven years later became the vice president of the same bank.
Van Donovan, the hero in Christmas Redemption,
doesn’t become the bank president, but I used that premise as the catalyst for
the story. At the age of fifteen he thinks being a lookout for a bank robbery
would be exciting and knows it will infuriate his father. Van’s lark was soon
over when an innocent man is killed and Van ends up in prison without one word
from his family.
Van redeems himself by learning a trade while in prison and
having the courage to come back home and prove to the town and his family he is
a changed man.
Van’s occupation isn’t one seen very often in westerns. He’s
a boot maker. I spent several hours in the shop of bootmaker DW Frommer II, who
specializes in teaching the art of boot making in the 1800s. I learned about
pine pitch that is boiled down and rubbed like wax into the threads that sew
the boots together. This is done to make the boots waterproof. Usually the
heavier boots worn in winter or by people who work outdoors had the pine pitch
thread.
Hair from the back of a boar’s neck was split and the thread stuck in
the split. The boar’s hair was used like a needle, sewing the pieces together
through the holes made with an awl. The hole patterns the bootmaker makes with an
awl can distinguish his work. While I
came home with several pages of notes and information, I ended up using very
little of this information.
That is the way of most research, several pages of
information are carefully written down and that is boiled down into a sentence
or a paragraph in the book. Hopefully, learning about the different types of
leather, the different threads and what is pitched and what isn’t, helps the
authenticity show through in what I do have about boot making in the story.
Blurb for Christmas Redemption
Van Donovan returns to Pleasant Valley, Oregon where twelve
years earlier as a boy of fifteen he left in handcuffs after standing guard for
a bank robbery. He's learned a trade and excelled at it and is ready to prove
to his father and the town he can amount to something.
Upon his return he learns the fate of the daughter of an
innocent man who died in the robbery crossfire. To make amends he takes her out
of the saloon and gives her a job, not realizing she'd been squatting in the
very building he'd purchased for his business.
Can two battered hearts find solace or will the past
continue to haunt their lives?
Silver
Belles and Stetsons: A Western Christmas Anthology
Available as a $.99 boxed set for a
limited time
Ten Western Romance Christmas Novellas
Available as a boxed set for a limited time
Bestselling and Award-Winning Authors bring you ten western romance novellas
featuring alpha-cowboys from the past. This boxed set will take you back in
time when
men were rugged and handsome and the women who loved them, courageous and
daring.
The
Greatest Gift: A Montana Cowboy Christmas by Kathleen Ball. Amazon Bestselling
and Award- Winning Author. Looking for the man who ran out on her, Ginger finds
a
cowboy worthy of love but he doesn't want or need love.
Catherine’s Cowboy by Cait Braxton,
Amazon Bestselling and Award-Winning Author. During a supernatural dust
storm, Fate steps in when rugged army tracker, Elam, helps Catherine deliver
her child.
Stone Mountain Christmas by Caroline
Clemmons, Amazon Bestselling and Award-Winning Author. Can Celia restore the
town's Christmas spirit? "A beautifully written story about love and hope
and all the emotions Christmas brings out in people." Karren Lucas
Angel and the Texan from County Cork
by Carra Copelin. Amazon Bestselling and Award-Winning Author. Does Angel
trust marriage to the man she suspects of killing her husband or the stranger
who promises to pay off her debt and set her free if she decides their marriage
of convenience won’t work?
The Drifter’s Proposal by Kristin
Holt, Amazon Bestselling Author. The baker's man is home for Christmas...
"Compelling. Heartwarming. Tender." ~Diane Darcy, USA Today
Bestselling Author
The
Perfect Gift by Lyn
Horner. Friendship has blossomed into young love, but it seems destined to die
on the vine...until an unexpected Christmas gift promises happiness.
Marshal
Mistletoe by Susan Horsnell. She married the wrong man. Will fate
intervene?
Christmas Redemption by Paty Jager,
Amazon Bestselling and Award-Winning Author. Can two battered hearts find
solace or will the past continue to haunt their lives? "A story of
forgiveness that has a wonderful hero who has worked hard to redeem
himself."
A Hard Candy Christmas by Hebby
Roman, Amazon Bestselling Author. Two damaged souls. Can their budding love and
the healing power of Christmas bring them together?
Cowboy Christmas by Margaret Tanner.
Will a miracle Christmas baby unite two tortured souls, or will it forever keep
them apart?
Award-winning author Paty Jager and her husband raise
alfalfa hay in rural eastern Oregon. On her road to publication she wrote
freelance articles for two local newspapers and enjoyed her job with the County
Extension service as a 4-H Program Assistant. Raising hay and cattle, riding horses,
and battling rattlesnakes, she not only writes the western lifestyle, she lives
it.
All her work has Western or Native
American elements in them along with hints of humor and engaging characters.
Her penchant for research takes her on side trips that eventually turn into yet
another story.
• One randomly chosen winner via Rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card.
GENRE: Medical Suspense Thriller
THE FACE TRANSPLANT Blurb:
An epic journey of suspense, murder, and sacrifice
Dr. Matthew MacAulay is a facial transplant surgeon at a prestigious New York hospital. When his friend and mentor, Tom Grabowski, dies under mysterious circumstances, Matthew uncovers his friend’s secret: a new technique that allows perfect facial transplants. No incisions, no scars. Tom was able to accomplish this monumental feat with the help of Alice, a supercomputer robot with almost human abilities. While trying to find the people responsible for murdering Tom, Matthew realizes he is the prime suspect. He must flee for his life with the help of Dr. Sarah Larsson, a colleague and reluctant helper, who has a secret of her own, and Alice, who helps them make sense of a baffling series of seemingly unrelated events. The clues carry Matthew and Sarah around the world. They stumble onto a sinister plot of monumental proportions that leads Matthew all the way to the White House.
The Face Transplant is a powerful medical suspense thriller of the first order. The novel was written by a surgeon who weaves politics, medicine, and espionage into a tightly paced, intelligent thriller.
THE FACE TRANSPLANT Excerpt:
Guaarrr. It sounds like water draining from a very large bathtub, through a very large hole. I just killed myself. I just killed the patient. Dr. Matthew MacAulay looks down on the operating room table at the gaunt, graying man. Matthew quickly scans the operating theater. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the short wide man in the observation area.
I just killed myself, Sarah, and Amanda.
They have been hijacked into performing a face transplant. The patient is unknown. Mr. Glock, the short wide man, hovers in the far end of the operating room. He made it clear that if the patient did not survive, the three of them would be following him in short order. The 9 mm Glock with a silencer on the end gave credence to his profanity-laced words of warning.
Matthew looks across the operating room table at Amanda Soto, forty-two, an American of Spanish ancestry. She has been his scrub nurse, assisting him in the operating room for the last three years. Divorced, one child.
It will take a few more seconds for the monitors to tell everybody what Matthew already knows. Amanda already knows. She is right across the table. She saw him use the robotic arm to dissect the vessel and mistakenly cut the large artery in the neck. An operating room nurse of Amanda’s experience has seen it all. When Matthew looks into her eyes, they flash ever so quickly an acknowledgement that it is all over. Instead of any words, she quietly unclamps the suction. Now a dull hiss fills the air. To the casual observer, or the short wide man holding a 9 mm Glock pistol in his fat stubby hands, nothing really has changed. Amanda, anesthetist Dr. Sarah Larsson, and Dr. Matthew MacAulay act as if all is going well.
Matthew cannot help but glance over to the man with the 9 mm Glock. In his mind he names him Mr. Glock. Adrenaline surges through Matthew’s body and time slows. The short wide man, Mr. Glock, has gray eyes. Pale, gray eyes. Very pale, almost tired. Matthew remembers reading somewhere that people with gray eyes have the best visual acuity. They make the best marksmen, the best assassins. He wonders if this was true.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
R. Arundel is a practising surgeon. This experience brings realism to the story. The novel asks what would happen if a surgeon were to develop the perfect face transplant. This would allow people to have a new face, in essence create a new identity. You can create the perfect double, the perfect Doppelganger.
On our honeymoon to a remote island the regular plane could
not take us to the island. A man in a small bush plane flew us over. The walls
of the plane seemed to be made or a thin strip of vinyl and the plane vibrated
like crazy. Looking over the deep blue water way down below was terrifying.
Do you listen to
music while writing? If so what?
Never. I like it absolutely quiet when writing. I usually
write in the early morning or late at night.
What is something
you'd like to accomplish in your writing career next year?
Four years after Roman Kincaid was catapulted into stardom as a country-western singer and A-list movie star, he is burned out: exhausted by a grueling schedule, drained by the ceaseless demands of producers and managers, weary of meeting the needs of others at the expense of his own. Leaving a sold-out show in Phoenix, he rents a car and drives north and east, landing in the Painted Desert town of Rainbow Rock.
“Ro-man! Ro-man!” A capacity crowd in the Ak-Chin Pavilion chanted his name under the starry desert sky, but Roman Kincaid barely heard it. He stood in the stage wings, gearing up for an encore and wondering when his dream had become a nightmare.
“Okay, guys,” he said to his back-up band via their ear buds. “One encore only. Let’s do ‘Gamble.’
Start with the chorus.” He took two steps toward the stage entrance, swinging his guitar into playing position.
Sam, his manager, caught his elbow. “Are you sure about this? That crowd adores you. You could probably play three encores, sell more CDs—”
“No.” Roman left no room for argument. “One and done. And no backstage stuff, either. I’m outta here.” He took a deep breath, pasted on the same fake, crowd-pleasing smile he’d used in the last half-dozen shows, and jogged back onto the stage to the roar of twenty thousand excited voices. He strummed the intro and launched into the chorus of his first number-one hit:
“Love is such a gamble.
You break a new deck every time.
Sometimes you’re dealt the aces;
Others you draw to nines.
But when I met you, I knew it was true.
A winning hand you seemed.
Now I have the rush of a royal flush.
You are the gamble of my dreams.”
The crowd cheered wildly as he played his way through the music he now sang in his sleep. In fact, he realized as he watched fans taking up the beat and clapping along, that was pretty much what he was doing now. He struggled to suppress a yawn during the guitar interlude as he turned to acknowledge his band.
I spent my early life dreaming of a crowd like this. When did performing start to feel like a chore? He put the thought away. Lately he’d been thinking of times when he’d heard of some celebrity being hospitalized for exhaustion and assumed it was a euphemism for drug rehab. Now he wondered.
When was the last time I felt truly rested? The question was an imponderable. Months, at least.
He hit the last chord and took a deep bow, then shouted, “Thank you, Phoenix!” and dashed off-stage.
Author Susan Aylworth
Susan Aylworth started her first book when she was nine. "It was called Buff, The Proud Stallion. I wrote eight whole pages." For her fifth grade career day, she stated her ambition to become "a rich and famous author." Decades later, she is pleased to have achieved the 'author' part of that goal. A former university professor, she enjoys researching backgrounds and careers for her novels. "It's one way to live many lives at once." She lives in northern California with her husband of 45 years and two spoiled cats.
Book Blast Giveaway - $50 Amazon Gift Card or $50 in Paypal Cash
Ends 12/11/15
Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.
Add a Matchmaker to the Stars, a temperamental Italian chef and the usual menagerie of people and pets...
Publication Date: October 22, 2015
Genre: Cozy Mystery
Series: Mina's Adventures #6
Mina Calvi, Italian transplant to Southern California, thinks her love life might finally come together, just as her professional life has. Her Furry Friends Foundation, a no-kill shelter for rescued cats and dogs, is a success, and Mina hopes she may find a loving forever home for herself, in the arms of Diego Moran, her elusive, frustratingly mysterious, on again-off again, lover.
When a seemingly innocent night out with friends lands Mina in a hospital bed and Diego undercover, and not the covers Mina wants him to be under, Mina has to draw on all her new-found maturity, and all her supportive friends for strength.
Meanwhile, a Best in Show cat takes up residence at the Ritzy Cats B and B, Mina’s other venture, setting Mina on the trail of a suspicious character who might not have the cat's best interests at heart.
Add a Matchmaker to the Stars, a temperamental Italian chef and the usual menagerie of people and pets, stir it all up and you have an entertaining, hard to put down romantic tale of suspense.
National Bestselling author Maria Grazia Swan was born in Italy, but this rolling stone has definitely gathered no moss. She lived in Belgium, France, Germany, in beautiful Orange County, California where she raised her family, and is currently at home in Phoenix, Arizona--but stay tuned for weekly updates of Where in the World is Maria Grazia Swan?
Maria loves travel, opera, good books, hiking, and intelligent movies (if she can find one, that is). When asked about her idea of a perfect evening, she favors stimulating conversation, Northern Italian food and perfectly chilled Prosecco--but then, who doesn't?
