Showing posts with label Georgia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Georgia. Show all posts

Friday, September 24, 2021

LONG WAY HOME 99¢ SALE

By Caroline Clemmons

LONG WAY HOME, a sweet historical romance novella set near the end of the Civil War, is on sale for 99¢ today through Wednesday, September 29th.

During the Civil War, no doubt soldiers longed for home the way it existed before the War. Many men lost their home and family members. In the Civil War, more men died than in any other war in which the United States has been involved. That’s a staggering statistic. Think of all the women who lost loved ones, who became spinsters because there simply were not enough men left of marrying age, and the damaged men who did return. Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome was called battle fatigue, and thought to be temporary. No one knew how to treat severe cases.

Prisons on both sides were horrendous, as Parmelia Bailey’s brother found. Many who survived lost so much weight they were skeletal. Often they were without coats in freezing weather, some without even shoes. We hate foreign countries that do to our soldiers what our own countrymen did in the Civil War.

Soldiers from both sides chose several options after the War’s end. Some returned home to reclaim as much as they could. Some traveled West to seek a better life. Others became outlaws like the Quantrell or Murrell’s Raiders or similar groups, using their army training to rampage and wreak destruction. 


 

Here’s the blurb for the sweet historical romance, LONG WAY HOME:

Parmelia Bailey has promised to keep her family safe until the men in her family return from War. That includes bringing her brother’s fiancée, sisters, and mother to stay at the home of Parmelia’s grandmother in town. Maybe she shouldn’t have stolen back her horses from the Yankees, but she could think of no other way to rescue the Hardeman women.

Darrick McDonald waited four years to return to Witherspoon, Georgia and Parmelia. Who would have dreamed war would bring him back. He had to protect Parmelia from a renegade who’d vowed to make her sorry she’d turned down his proposal. He prayed he wasn’t too late.

Here’s an excerpt from LONG WAY HOME:

At last, she turned into her grandparents’ drive and pulled around to the back. With a huge sigh, she stopped at the carriage house. Surely a week had passed since she caught her horses last night. All she wanted now was to crawl in bed and sleep for days, pretend the war never happened. She couldn’t relax yet, not until the horses were back with those Yankee scoundrels.”

“Sarah, let’s see your mother and sisters inside. After that, Rob and I will deal with the chickens and cow.” Parmelia’s hands shook as she climbed out of the buggy. Fatigue, relief, and fear turned her limbs to jam.

She walked Sarah and her family to the back door where Grammy and Mama took over.

Parmelia returned to the carriage house. “Rob, help me unhitch the horses and put their bridles on so I can take them back.”

“Why don’t I do that.” Darrick McDonald stepped from the shadows. He appeared calm, until she looked at his face.

Parmelia was surprised sparks didn’t shoot from his dark eyes and ignite the entire carriage house. She clutched her throat, hoping a way out of this predicament would come to her. How had he known to come here, to wait for her?

“Darrick, you—you gave me a fright.”

“Did I? Perhaps you have a guilty conscience.” He freed one of the horses.

“When did you come back?” She fought for an idea, but none came to her.

“Late yesterday.” He walked back and forth beside Lady. “Funny thing, you having two horses after the Army confiscated all the livestock in town. Another coincidence, two Army horses went missing overnight.”

“Did they?”

He stopped and gave her a piercing look.

She gave up with a sigh. “I can explain.”

“I’m listening.” His eyes were still dark with anger.

“My brother’s fiancée. You remember Sarah Hardeman? I had to bring her and her family to town. I—I had no way to do that without a team.”

Rob added, “These are our horses anyway. You low down, yellow-bellied Yankees stole them from us.”

Oh, Lord. Leave it to her brother to make things worse.

“Hush, Rob. Give me the bridles. Put the cow in the barn then come help me with these chickens.”

He pouted and handed over the tack. “Oh, all right. I never get to hear anything good.” Rob untied the cow and stomped toward the barn.

“So, you’re a Yankee officer now.”

“Captain.” Darrick crossed his arms. “I’m waiting for an explanation, Parmelia.”

Her temper conquered her good sense, and she stepped toward him. “You’ve got your nerve, coming here wearing that uniform, you...you traitor.”

He stepped forward until they were almost touching. “Call me what you will, but you’re the one who stole two horses in a time of war.”

She refused to retreat. “How can you accuse me of stealing, when you Yankees have taken over our town?”

“Because you did steal them, and you weren’t even clever about it. I followed their tracks to your grandparents’ home. You do realize that with a less sympathetic Colonel, they could lose their home?”

Dear heaven, she hadn’t considered her grandparents if she were caught.

“No!” She took a step backward. “I was going to return them. Rob’s right, they are ours. They know me, so they were eager to come to me.”

He pulled a small, withered apple from his pocket.

Rats, she must have dropped it, one of the few from their store of fruit in the cellar.

Darrick held the apple in front of her nose. “Looks to me as if you coaxed them away.”

She sighed, “Maybe I did, but it was only to use them for a little while. Sarah and her family were in great peril.”

He tossed the apple from one hand to the other, but stared at her face. “Are you crazy? You could have been killed.”

She grabbed the apple from him. “Sarah, her mother, and sisters could have been murdered and their home burned. We barely got away in time as it is.”

“If you had bothered to consult the Colonel, he would have sent soldiers for them. As it turns out, I would have taken my men and gone.”

“Are you crazy? You could have been killed.”

Shocked at the concern in her voice and in her heart, she continued, “Um, I mean, they might not have recognized you and could have shot you. Or, that man that tried to take my horse could have killed you.”

Oh, no, she hadn’t meant to tell that last part.

He grew angrier and grabbed her arms. “What do you mean?

She tried to twist away. “Nothing.”

“Parmelia Bailey, who tried to take your horse?” He turned her to face him.

Refusing to meet his gaze, she stammered, “There, um, there was a man in the woods, a ways north of the Mitchell’s house. He…um, he jumped at me and tried to take Beauty, but Rob and I got away.”

“You are the stubbornest, orneriest woman I’ve ever known. Don’t you realize what could have happened to you?”

“It crossed my mind,” she snapped and raised her face.

“If you were mine, I’d, I’d...”

“Yours? You moved away and left me, remember? And now you’re a Yankee officer.” Lord, she shouldn’t have reminded him she’d loved him. Worse, she still loved him.

She willed tears not to fall. Keep your anger up, don’t let him know how he hurt you.

“You know why I left Witherspoon. You know I had no choice.”

“There’s always a choice.” And she would have chosen to go with him, if only he’d asked, even if she had been only sixteen.

“Like you chose to steal these horses?”

She shrugged away from his grasp. “Steal? Soldiers stole them from us. Do you understand the term ‘borrow’? That’s what I did.”

“In times of war, the government has the power to confiscate items from civilians. Do you understand that?”

“Call it what you wish, it’s still stealing when you take what’s not yours and keep it.”

“Maybe we’re only borrowing your horses.”

She thought his mouth twitched to hide a smile. His humor only irked her more.

“Like you Yankees borrowed from the stores in town so we can’t even buy supplies—that is, if we had money. Which we don’t.”

He smiled. “I heard you had plenty of those Confederate dollars.”

“Oh, you...you Yankees make me so mad. Take my horses and leave.” She turned and stomped toward the house.

He called, “Aren’t you going to invite me in to say hello to the family? Maybe you could bake me an apple pie.”

She slammed the kitchen door and leaned against it. His laughter floated around her.

From the front of the house, she heard Mrs. Hardeman complaining and Mamma and Grammy’s soft, soothing answers. She wondered how much of Mrs. Hardeman’s grousing they’d have to endure.

Parmelia pushed away from the door, and then remembered those dratted chickens. Peeking through the curtains, she saw Darrick leading the horses away. His long, lean body looked good, his walk a confident swagger. Dark brown hair caught the sunlight. Lordy, he was better looking than he had been four years ago when he lived in Witherspoon.

When he’d touched her just now, she’d sizzled. She’d wanted to throw herself in his arms and have him reassure her, kiss her, love her. How could he create these sensations inside her when he’d abandoned her four years ago? When now he sided with their enemies?

She jumped when Sarah came up to her.

“Parmelia, is something wrong?”

“I—I just remembered the chickens is all. I’ll get Rob to help me get them down and into the chicken coop.”

“Nonsense. My sisters and I will do it. You look all worn out. You must have ridden most of the night.”

She shrugged. “I’m all right. We started for your place close to midnight.”

Sarah’s dark eyes sparkled. “Did you really take those horses from the Yankees?”

“Yes, but they’re on their way back to those thieves now. Darrick McDonald was waiting for them in Grammy’s barn.”

“Darrick?” Sarah touched Parmelia’s arm. “Oh, Parmelia. Is he still as handsome?”

She sighed, hating to admit the truth. “More. And taller. He sure fills out his uniform, too, but it’s blue.”

“Oh.” Sarah paused. “But he’s here, and you talked to him. That’s something, isn’t it?”

Before Parmelia had to answer, Rob slammed inside the kitchen. “That old cow’s still upset. Am I supposed to milk her or what?”

“I’ll get the pail for you.” Parmelia retrieved it from the screened in porch. “The stool’s still in the barn.” She clasped her hands. “Fresh milk. Oh, that will be wonderful. We’ve been without it for a month.”

Rob called, “We got to have hay.”

“Maybe she can eat the lawn tomorrow. I’ll try to barter some hay.” But who had any supplies except the Yankees? Sighing, she went back into the kitchen. She simply could not deal with another crisis today.


If this tempted you to purchase LONG WAY HOME, it’s available from Amazon at

http://www.amazon.com/LONG-WAY-HOME-ebook/dp/B005HQYUSK/

 


If you read this novella and enjoy it, please leave a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads. I’ll appreciate your effort.

 

Stay safe and keep reading! 

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

VALENTINE'S SPECIAL BONUS




Just in time for Valentine’s Day reading—here is my boxed set HEARTS AND FLOWERS. The set contains three western historical romance novellas already for sale, but readers get one free by buying the boxed set. Three for the price of two—win/win.

You know I love writing and my readers. Boxing these three novellas to give readers a bonus is my way of saying thanks for your loyalty in buying my books. I appreciate and adore each of you for making me an Amazon bestselling author of western historical romance.



Here are the three in HEARTS AND FLOWERS:

SAVE YOUR HEART FOR ME is one of my favorite of my works. Probably the reason is that the heroine’s mom is named for my own mother, Lena Mae Phifer. The heroine is named for my mom’s sister, Elizabeth Margaret Phifer. Although my aunt was never called Beth, she is in this novella. The handsome hero, Matt, has to unravel mysteries, stop a murder, and recover kidnap victims. Of course, the lovely heroine does her share. This novella is sensual.

HAPPY IS THE BRIDE is a hectic tale of a wedding in which whatever can go wrong does. But Beth Pendleton and Mason Whittaker become married and found their own family. I thought of this story as sweet until a stuffy review accusing me of writing . . . well, never mind. It is sensual, especially the epilogue.  No one is murdered, no one is kidnapped, no crimes occur—at least not actual crimes. A few things deserve a slap or two from our heroine, but all ends well.

LONG WAY HOME is set in Georgia near the end of the Civil War. Parmelia Bailey is left in charge of her extended family while the men are off at War. That includes her brother’s fiancé and her family, who must be rescued from approaching fighting. Parmelia risks a lot to bring the Hardeman women to stay at her grandmother’s home. Darrick McDonald, Parmelia’s true love who moved away, has returned wearing  Union blue. This is the only time I have set an entire story outside Texas. 

Buy the boxed set here:

Bless y’all!

Caroline

Thanks for stopping by!


Friday, July 13, 2012

FINDING THE WAY HOME



During the Civil War, no doubt soldiers longed for home the way it existed before the War. Many men lost their home and family members. In my family, a Unionist sympathizing Georgia patriarch had to move his family twice to avoid harassment and threats of physical harm by Southern sympathizers. He also had to serve in the Confederacy due to the threats of a local bully, but my relative was discharged early due to age and injuries and paroled home. At the end of the War, he’d lost his primary home, animals, and furnishings, but his family survived.

In the Civil War, more men died than in any other war in which the United States has been involved. That’s a staggering statistic. Thinking of all the women who lost loved ones, who became spinsters because there simply were not enough men left of marrying age (no wonder they signed up as mail-order brides), and the damaged men who did return is sad. Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome was called battle fatigue, and thought usually to be temporary, No one knew how to treat severe cases.

Drawing Rations, Andersonville Prison


Prisons on both sides were horrendous. Many who survived lost so much weight they were skeletal. Often they were without coats in freezing weather, some without even shoes. We hate foreign countries who do to our soldiers what our own countrymen did in the Civil War.

Soldiers who were not so fortunate as my family chose several options after the War’s end. Some, like mine, returned home to reclaim as much as they could. Some traveled West, like several members of my family did later to seek a better life. Others became outlaws like the Quantrell or Murrell’s Raiders, using their army training to rampage and wreak destruction. Others formed the Ku Klux Klan, and I’m sad to admit a few of my family were involved in that terrible group over a ten year period.  Ah well, with ancestry, you take what you're issued.

Loosely based on my family’s Wartime experiences, I conceived a novella set near the end of the War. The heroine is Parmelia Bailey, and she has promised the men in her family she will watch over the other women until they return. As the War approaches, she slips through a blockade to rescue her brother’s fiancée Sarah Hardeman and Sarah’s mother and sisters. Unfortunately, Parmelia is caught by Darrrick McDonald, the man with whom she’s been in love most of her life...but he’s returned wearing a Union uniform!

I'm thinking of reworking the cover's fonts.
What do you think?


Here’s the blurb for LONG WAY HOME:

Parmelia Bailey has promised to keep her family safe until the men in her family return from War. That includes bringing her brother’s fiancée, Sarah Hardeman, and Sarah’s mother and sisters to stay at her grandmother’s home in town. Maybe she shouldn’t have stolen back her horses from the Yankees, but she could think of no other way to rescue the Hardeman women.

Darrick McDonald waited four years to return to Witherspoon, Georgia and Parmelia. Who would have dreamed war would bring him back. He had to protect Parmelia from a renegade who’d vowed to make her sorry she’d turned down his proposal. He prayed he wasn’t too late.

Here’s an excerpt from LONG WAY HOME:

At last, she turned into her grandparents’ drive and pulled around to the back. With a huge sigh, she stopped at the carriage house. Surely a week had passed since she caught her horses last night. All she wanted now was to crawl in bed and sleep for days, pretend the war never happened. She couldn’t relax yet, not until the horses were back with those Yankee scoundrels.”

“Sarah, let’s see your mother and sisters inside. After that, Rob and I will deal with the chickens and cow.” Parmelia’s hands shook as she climbed out of the buggy. Fatigue, relief, and fear turned her limbs to jam.

She walked Sarah and her family to the back door where Grammy and Mama took over.

Parmelia returned to the carriage house. “Rob, help me unhitch the horses and put their bridles on so I can take them back.”

“Why don’t I do that.” Darrick McDonald stepped from the shadows. He appeared calm, until she looked at his face.

Parmelia was surprised sparks didn’t shoot from his dark eyes and ignite the entire carriage house. She clutched her throat, hoping a way out of this predicament would come to her. How had he known to come here, to wait for her?

“Darrick, you—you gave me a fright.”

“Did I? Perhaps you have a guilty conscience.” He freed one of the horses.

“When did you come back?” She fought for an idea, but none came to her.

“Late yesterday.” He walked back and forth beside Lady. “Funny thing, you having two horses after the Army confiscated all the livestock in town. Another coincidence, two Army horses went missing overnight.”

“Did they?”

He stopped and gave her a piercing look.

She gave up with a sigh. “I can explain.”

“I’m listening.” His eyes were still dark with anger.

“My brother’s fiancée. You remember Sarah Hardeman? I had to bring her and her family to town. I—I had no way to do that without a team.”

Rob added, “These are our horses anyway. You low down, yellow-bellied Yankees stole them from us.”

Oh, Lord. Leave it to her brother to make things worse.

“Hush, Rob. Give me the bridles. Put the cow in the barn then come help me with these chickens.”

He pouted and handed over the tack. “Oh, all right. I never get to hear anything good.” Rob untied the cow and stomped toward the barn.

“So, you’re a Yankee officer now.”

“Captain.” Darrick crossed his arms. “I’m waiting for an explanation, Parmelia.”

Her temper conquered her good sense, and she stepped toward him. “You’ve got your nerve, coming here wearing that uniform, you...you traitor.”

He stepped forward until they were almost touching. “Call me what you will, but you’re the one who stole two horses in a time of war.”

She refused to retreat. “How can you accuse me of stealing, when you Yankees have taken over our town?”

“Because you did steal them, and you weren’t even clever about it. I followed their tracks to your grandparents’ home. You do realize that with a less sympathetic Colonel, they could lose their home?”

Dear heaven, she hadn’t considered her grandparents if she were caught.

“No!” She took a step backward. “I was going to return them. Rob’s right, they are ours. They know me, so they were eager to come to me.”

He pulled a small, withered apple from his pocket.

Rats, she must have dropped it, one of the few from their store of fruit in the cellar.

Darrick held the apple in front of her nose. “Looks to me as if you coaxed them away.”

She sighed, “Maybe I did, but it was only to use them for a little while. Sarah and her family were in great peril.”

He tossed the apple from one hand to the other, but stared at her face. “Are you crazy? You could have been killed.”

She grabbed the apple from him. “Sarah, her mother, and sisters could have been murdered and their home burned. We barely got away in time as it is.”

“If you had bothered to consult the Colonel, he would have sent soldiers for them. As it turns out, I would have taken my men and gone.”

“Are you crazy? You could have been killed.”

Shocked at the concern in her voice and in her heart, she continued, “Um, I mean, they might not have recognized you and could have shot you. Or, that man that tried to take my horse could have killed you.”

Oh, no, she hadn’t meant to tell that last part.

He grew angrier and grabbed her arms. “What do you mean?

She tried to twist away. “Nothing.”

“Parmelia Bailey, who tried to take your horse?” He turned her to face him.

Refusing to meet his gaze, she stammered, “There, um, there was a man in the woods, a ways north of the Mitchell’s house. He…um, he jumped at me and tried to take Beauty, but Rob and I got away.”

“You are the stubbornest, orneriest woman I’ve ever known. Don’t you realize what could have happened to you?”

“It crossed my mind,” she snapped and raised her face.

“If you were mine, I’d, I’d...”

“Yours? You moved away and left me, remember? And now you’re a Yankee officer.” Lord, she shouldn’t have reminded him she’d loved him. Worse, she still loved him.

She willed tears not to fall. Keep your anger up, don’t let him know how he hurt you.

“You know why I left Witherspoon. You know I had no choice.”

“There’s always a choice.” And she would have chosen to go with him, if only he’d asked, even if she had been only sixteen.

“Like you chose to steal these horses?”

She shrugged away from his grasp. “Steal? Soldiers stole them from us. Do you understand the term borrow? That’s what I did.”

“In times of war, the government has the power to confiscate items from civilians. Do you understand that?”

“Call it what you wish, it’s still stealing when you take what’s not yours and keep it.”

“Maybe we’re only borrowing your horses.”

She thought his mouth twitched to hide a smile. His humor only irked her more.

“Like you Yankees borrowed from the stores in town so we can’t even buy supplies—that is, if we had money. Which we don’t.”

He smiled. “I heard you had plenty of those Confederate dollars.”

“Oh, you...you Yankees make me so mad. Take my horses and leave.” She turned and stomped toward the house.

He called, “Aren’t you going to invite me in to say hello to the family? Maybe you could bake me an apple pie.”

She slammed the kitchen door and leaned against it. His laughter floated around her.

From the front of the house, she heard Mrs. Hardeman complaining and Mamma and Grammy’s soft, soothing answers. She wondered how much of Mrs. Hardeman’s grousing they’d have to endure.

Parmelia Bailey
Parmelia pushed away from the door, and then remembered those dratted chickens. Peeking through the curtains, she saw Darrick leading the horses away. His long, lean body looked good, his walk a confident swagger. Dark brown hair caught the sunlight. Lordy, he was better looking than he had been four years ago when he lived in Witherspoon.

When he’d touched her just now, she’d sizzled. She’d wanted to throw herself in his arms and have him reassure her, kiss her, love her. How could he create these sensations inside her when he’d abandoned her four years ago? When now he sided with their enemies?

She jumped when Sarah came up to her.

“Parmelia, is something wrong?”

“I—I just remembered the chickens is all. I’ll get Rob to help me get them down and into the chicken coop.”

“Nonsense. My sisters and I will do it. You look all worn out. You must have ridden most of the night.”

She shrugged. “I’m all right. We started for your place close to midnight.”

Sarah’s dark eyes sparkled. “Did you really take those horses from the Yankees?”

“Yes, but they’re on their way back to those thieves now. Darrick McDonald was waiting for them in Grammy’s barn.”

“Darrick?” Sarah touched Parmelia’s arm. “Oh, Parmelia. Is he still as handsome?”

She sighed, hating to admit the truth. “More. And taller. He sure fills out his uniform, too, but it’s blue.”

“Oh.” Sarah paused. “But he’s here, and you talked to him. That’s something, isn’t it?”

Before Parmelia had to answer, Rob slammed inside the kitchen. “That old cow’s still upset. Am I supposed to milk her or what?”

“I’ll get the pail for you.” Parmelia retrieved it from the screened in porch. “The stool’s still in the barn.” She clasped her hands. “Fresh milk. Oh, that will be wonderful. We’ve been without it for a month.”

Rob called, “We got to have hay.”

“Maybe she can eat the lawn tomorrow. I’ll try to barter some hay.” But who had any supplies except the Yankees? Sighing, she went back into the kitchen. She simply could not deal with another crisis today.

“I took off my extra clothes, but my hair’s a mess.” Sarah stood at a small mirror over the washstand and smoothed curls of brown hair from her face. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t think my teachers at Thorndike Academy of Young Women would approve of my appearance.”

Parmelia looked at herself over Sarah’s shoulder, then gasped. What must Darrick have thought of her? She told herself she didn’t care then admitted she did. She’d been so careful about her appearance when he’d called on her years ago. He must think she’d turned into a hoyden. Peering at her rough hands and broken nails, she thought maybe she had. Oh, what did it matter?

Forcing back tears and regrets, she pulled at her men’s britches and curtsied to Sarah. “I don’t think anyone from Mrs. Carrington’s School for Young Ladies would even speak to me.”

They broke into giggles and went in search of Katie and Nancy.


If this tempted you to purchase LONG WAY HOME, it’s available as an ebook from

Smashwords at
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/108471?ref=CarolineClemmons

and Amazon at
http://www.amazon.com/LONG-WAY-HOME-ebook/dp/B005HQYUSK/ref=sr_1_9?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1342108242&sr=1-9&keywords=caroline+clemmons

If you read this book and enjoy it, please leave a favorable review on Smashwords or Amazon. I’ll sincerely appreciate your effort!

You can learn more about me from my website at www.carolineclemmons.com. Sign up there for my newsletter to learn of new releases, fun contests, giveaways, and recipes. You’ll also be able to sign up for Facebooks and Twitter at my website, as you can on this blog's sidebar.

Thanks for reading!



Wednesday, March 14, 2012

REVIEW OF MURDER IN THE BUFF

MURDER IN THE BUFF

By Maggie Toussaint
MuseItUp Publishing


Molly Darter is a charming, responsible mother whose job at the newspaper depends on her personally collecting a family-placed obituary from the Naturalist Woods nudist colony. Molly’s conservative policies collide with the colony’s testosterone-laden male leader, Mama Leon. He is convinced the dead woman was murdered and insists Molly is the only person to find the killer’s identity. Molly has her own problems. She is convinced her hunky estranged husband, Hadley Darter, has cheated with her irresponsible and trashy sister, Clarice. Molly needs the newspaper job and that means obtaining the obituary information so she can meet her boss’ deadline.

Forced into investigating the murder, Molly opens a Pandora’s box and learns more than she ever wanted to know about various leading men in Marshview, Georgia. She also learns that she knew the dead woman as the friendly saleswoman at the roadside organic vegetable stand. Now Sheriff Otis Blizzard, the man who beat her husband in the last election, appears to be trailing Molly. Why is that?

MURDER IN THE BUFF is one of the best cozy mysteries I’ve read, and I read cozies frequently. Maggie Toussaint is a gifted author whose wit shines through to provide a fast-paced, hilarious read. The only point in which I disagreed with the plot was that Molly didn’t listen to Hadley’s explanation about Clarice. I won’t belabor that because this was such a fun read with surprising twists and turns guaranteed to provide suspense, laughter, and a smile at the perfect ending. I’d give a 5 out of 5 rating to MURDER IN THE BUFF and recommend it highly!

This book was given to me for an honest and unbiased review. The buy link at Amazon is http://www.amazon.com/Murder-in-the-Buff-ebook/dp/B007HOPSFE/ref=sr_1_6?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1331721775&sr=1-6


Mystery and Romance Author, Maggie Toussaint

For more information on Maggie Toussaint and her books, see www.maggietoussaint.com and her blog http://mudpiesandmagnolias.blogspot.com

Thanks for stopping by!

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

DAC CROSSLEY DROPS BY FOR A CHAT

Please remember that we are still on our Spooktacular Giveaway Hop. Click on the graphic at the right for the participating blogs and prizes. I'm giving away a pdf a day of my books (winner's choice), and winners will be announced on November 1st. International readers are included in my part of the blog hop. A comment is an entry, if you follow my blog, subsctibe to my newsletter, and/or subscribe by email, that's an extra entry for each. Be sure to mention in the comment, and please include your email.


Readers, I’m excited today to welcome a very special guest, Dac Crossley. I first "met" Dac online through my friend Celia Yeary, and Dac has posted on Celia’s blogsite and on Sweethearts of the West. He’s a fascinating man and his bio follows this interview.




Renowned Entymologist
and Award Winning Western
Author, Dac Crossley
Caroline: Tell us about growing up near Texas’ famous King Ranch and Kingsville. Are you related to the ranching family? Do you have siblings? Spill it all.


Dac: I'm from old Texas stock but not part of the King Ranch empire. From my front porch I could see the big white King Ranch headquarters. I had one younger brother, a chemical engineer. We lived at the end of a caliche road, way out beyond house numbers. Dad raised chickens.


Caroline: Did you write fiction while you were at Texas Tech before you changed majors from English to biology?


Dac: Not fiction. I named some new species of mites when at Tech. My room-mate and I wrote a short comedy, once.


Caroline: What’s a story you remember your grandmother telling you that readers will enjoy?


Dac: I learned the night sky from my grandmothers. One taught me the constellations in the northern sky, the other, in the southern sky. Knowing the stars allowed you to navigate on the plains, and to tell time at night. Both grandmothers spent part of their childhood on ranches, and knew the brush country quite well.


Caroline: Do you return to Texas often? Without revealing enough to invade their privacy, tell us about your family.


Dac: I go back to south Texas whenever I can. I no longer have family there, but the memories linger, and I visit the old places in San Antonio and Corpus Christi and environs. And meet with friends from my childhood. I have deep roots in south Texas. The sights and sounds, the feel of the brushlands strike a chord deep within me.


Caroline: I noticed that GUNS ACROSS THE RIO was a finalist in the 2008 National Indie Excellence Awards. Where did you get the idea for that book? Did it require a lot of research?


Dac: It began with stories my father told me, of growing up on the border, of bandits and railroads, fast horses, slow automobiles. I prowled the border area for locales for my story.


Caroline: National Indie Excellence Award 2009 winner, RETURN OF THE TEXAS RANGER, is a sequel and I notice the same three characters are included. Did that book spring from the first, or did you have to dig it out?


Dac: In fact, I wrote RETURN first. I had an agent for that one, who was unable to sell it altho she tried hard. GUNS was actually a "prequel" that happened to be published first.




Caroline: I love the premise of your latest book in which someone escapes the Alamo to fight again. Was a particular event or experience inspiration for your 2011 National Indie Excellence Award winner, ESCAPE FROM THE ALAMO, or is it simply from the experience of being a native Texan?


Dac: Honestly, any Texan author just has to write an Alamo story. The Alamo history is very much a part of my upbringing. My mother was a historian.


Caroline: If you could go back in time for a brief visit, where and when would you choose?


Dac: That's easy. San Antonio in 1836, and the fall of the Alamo. I want to see for myself!


Caroline: What fiction are you reading now?


Dac: A DISTANT FLAME, a Civil War story by Georgia's most accomplished writer, Philip Lee Williams. I am plotting a post-Civil War story for South Texas, so this counts for research as well.


Caroline: What advice can you offer aspiring writers?


Dac: My customary advice is read, read, read and write, write, write. Tell me a good story.


Caroline: Your blog on chiggers made me laugh. Do you have any stories to share about the pesky little red devils?


Dac: Listen, I enjoyed those days. Touring the west, south and southeast, trapping rodents, shooting birds, catching snakes and lizards, sleeping under the stars. Couldn't do that today.


Caroline: Is there anything else you’d like to share with readers?


Dac: Today it's easier to publish your book than it ever was. You have a story in you, don't you?


And from a western writer - "Timing is the most important part of a rain dance."


Caroline: I love that quote! Thank you for being my guest.


Dac: It's been my pleasure.



Dac' bio:
D. A. Crossley, Jr., is a retired professor at the University of Georgia, and his nickname is “Dac.” He's an emeritus professor of ecology and a curator emeritus of ticks and mites in the Georgia Museum of Natural History. Even better from our viewpoint, he writes great western fiction!



Dac grew up in Kingsville, Texas, the home of the famous King Ranch. It was also the home of railroad shops for the St. Louis, Brownsville and Mexico railway company. Dac says everybody in town worked for the railroad or the ranch, or did business with them.


Dac received his undergraduate degree from Texas Tech in Lubbock. Yay! That's where Hero graduated and I attended for two years. Dac's doctorate was in Entomology at the University of Kansas, where--you will no doubt be surprised to learn--Dac studied the classification of chiggers - redbugs. He thinks he's still the U.S. expert.


After university he worked at Oak Ridge National Lab as an ecologist. Which he says he surely wasn't. In those days (1950's) almost nobody was. He studied the effects of radioactive waste on forests and fields. A fortunate turn brought him to the University of Georgia, where he had the privilege of working with some excellent ecologists.


With retirement looking him in the face, he turned to his first career choice - writing and hit his stride in writing about South Texas in its pre-civilized days. The Old West lived on for decades down near the Border and in the Wild Horse Desert. Family stories and tales he was told as a child form the basis for his Texas novels.


Buy link for Dac's books at Amazon is
http://www.amazon.com/Return-Texas-Ranger-Dac-Crossley/dp/1439219974/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1319045628&sr=1-2#_
 

Please return on Friday for a visit with Claire Ashgrove. Don't forget the Spooktacular Giveaway Hop lasts through midnight on Hallow'en. Leave a comment to be entered in my daily give away, including international readers.
 
Thanks for stopping by!

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

LOVE, SEX, AND DEATH...PAPER WOMAN HAS IT ALL!

THE BIG DAY IS HERE! Follow Suzanne Adair's instructions on her blog to be entered for a Historic Haversack of goodies from Suzanne (I'm donating a download of my book, SAVE YOUR HEART FOR ME, for the Haversack) and in the Blog Tour De Force to win a Kindle! Visit Suzanne's blog, "The British Are Coming Y'all," by midnight EST on April 21st at http://www.suzanneadair.typepad.com/ for instructions to win a free download of PAPER WOMAN, a novel of the American Revolution. My review, also posted yesterday, is below.  Please mention me as your favorite of Suzanne's sponsors in BLOG TOUR DE FORCE! (Yes, unmitigated self-promotion.) Suzanne says, "If any visitors want to also win my Historic Haversack goodie bag, I will instruct them to select a review site from those listed, comment on the review site with, 'Love, sex, and death. Paper Woman has it all!' then return to my blog to comment where they posted and why they liked that particular review."



                    PAPER WOMAN REVIEW


PAPER WOMAN is a book you will love! From the first page, Ms Adair’s story of one woman’s quest during the American Revolution will pull you into the pages (or your e-reader). This is not a pedantic historical treatise. Ms Adair’s ability to bring the era to life amazed me. She interweaves plot and historic detail while she entertains so well that the reader forgets he or she is gaining new insights into the American Revolution. In fact, not only did I immediately identify with Sophie Barton, I felt I was standing next to the heroine and experiencing each obstacle with her. No wonder Suzanne Adair's awards include the Patrick D. Smith Literature Award. 
         
AVAILABLE NOW!
Sophie Barton is only thirty-three, but she is already twice widowed and, via her seventeen year old daughter Betsy, soon to be a grandmother. (Yes, women often married young at this time.) Sophie is “the paper woman” because of her job assisting her father with his printing press. She also keeps the accounts for their print shop. Her father and his cronies are busy stirring up rebellion against the Crown at the same time Sophie is being courted by a British officer who is more than he seems--or less, depending on your viewpoint. David, Sophie’s charming brother, spends his time cavorting with widows and winning games of chance. Their selfish younger sister, Susana, is a young matron interested primarily in grabbing all supposedly due her and her family. Sophie hates the small town of Alton, Georgia and longs for travel and adventure. Ever hear the saying, be careful what you wish for?

Renactment from Suzanne's website


















Circumstances rapidly change, placing Sophie and her family in danger. Like a female Indiana Jones, she is determined to solve the puzzle of who wants her arrested for treason and who has plotted against her family. I won’t include any spoilers, so I won’t describe her quest through forests and swamps, accompanied by the men who love her and offer their loyalty.

PAPER WOMAN is a book I enthusiastically recommend and I rate it five stars! One night I read until my eyes were so tired I couldn’t focus. The next morning, I hurried my routine so I could finish this enthralling tale of love, sex, and death. PAPER WOMAN is available in e-download from Smashwords here.
 

Suzanne
Suzanne Adair is the nom de plume for Suzanne Williams, a native Floridian who currently lives with her family in North Carolina. In second grade, she wrote her first fiction for fun after the eye of a hurricane passed over her home, and she grew up intrigued by wild weather, stories of suspense and high adventure, Spanish St. Augustine, and the South's role in the Revolutionary War. She has traveled extensively and lived in England for half a year. After visiting the ruins of colonial-era Ft. Frederica on St. Simon's Island, Georgia, she began writing PAPER WOMAN, the first book of her series and the recipient of the 2007 Patrick D. Smith Literature Award. THE BLACKSMITH'S DAUGHTER and CAMP FOLLOWER continue her fictional ventures into the Southern theater of the Revolutionary War. CAMP FOLLOWER was nominated for the 2009 Daphne du Maurier Excellence in Historical Mystery/Suspense Award and the 2009 Sir Walter Raleigh Award for Fiction. Suzanne enjoys participating in living history to commemorate events from the Revolutionary War -- a hobby that helps her depict colonial life in writing.