HEBBY ROMAN'S WEST TEXAS CHRISTMAS TRILOGY!

I love hosting friends on my blog. Hebby Roman and I have known each other for twenty years. Of course, we were only children when we met. ☺I enjoy her writing and think you will too. This year she’s completing a Christmas trilogy. The first book, HARD CANDY CHRISTMAS, was published last year. This year, she’s added LET IT BE CHRISTMAS and A MISTLETOE CHRISTMAS.

LET IT BE CHRISTMAS Blurb:

After losing both her parents, Lindsay MacKillian has been living with her Aunt Minerva in Boston, learning to be a lady. When her unscrupulous fiancé gets her in the family way and absconds, she escapes home to Langtry, Texas to hide her shame.

Bart Houghton, a professional gambler, wants to quit his old profession and become a rancher, giving the MacKillian’s ranch a much needed infusion of capital. But he didn’t count on marrying Chad’s sister as part of the deal. And to make matters worse, Lindsay doesn’t approve of his former profession and believes he is unworthy as a husband.

Lindsay and Bart, despite their differences and having a marriage in name only, can’t help but being attracted to each other. As their attraction matures, they have to face the obstacles of their pasts. Can Lindsay put aside her preconceived notions about Bart? Is Bart ready to settle down and give Lindsay the family she wants?

LET IT BE CHRISTMAS Excerpt:

The crowd roared, and a fresh wave of panic washed over Lindsay. Unable to catch a glimpse of her pet through the dense mob, she had no idea what the crowd was shouting at, but she feared Bruno, Judge Roy Bean’s captive bear, was mauling Minnie, her beloved puppy, and the mob was cheering on the bear with their drunken approval. 

    Vaulting from the mare’s back, Lindsay forgot about Bart in her frenzy to reach her dog. With tears clouding her vision, she rushed forward, cursing in French and slapping at the mass of men. She pushed to the front of the mob and stared… and smelled. The scent of rotting vegetation filled her nostrils, wafting from the moth-eaten brown bear, Bruno.

    Bruno squatted on his haunches with his huge paws dangling in front of him. His pig-like snout drooped forward onto his massive chest, snuffling the air. Minnie ran circles around the bear, yelping at him. Bruno, half-drunk on beer, just watched the little dog with glazed eyes, shaking his head to clear away the buzz of flies.

    Lindsay’s stomach roiled and bile filled her throat. Her initial terror melted away, to be replaced by embarrassment and dismay. Her dog didn’t appear to be in any immediate danger, but she certainly was making a spectacle of herself. She could imagine what her brother would say when he saw her pet’s antics.

Lulled by the bear's passivity, she broke away from the crowd, intent upon retrieving her pet.

    But her sudden movement was a mistake.

    Bruno came to life, rearing up. He swatted at her, his broken and dirty claws slicing through the air. Cringing and closing her eyes against the inevitable impact, she felt the breath leave her lungs as she was grabbed from behind and rolled to the ground. The onlookers jeered, making ribald suggestions.                    

The bear advanced, snapping the end of his chain taut. Minnie was unperturbed, sitting back on her haunches and posturing with her best begging stance.

    Dirt scrapped against Lindsay’s back as she was hauled away from the bear’s reach. Dazed, she looked up to see Bart’s face, covered in perspiration, looming over her.  Mortified, she pushed at his chest with the palms of her hands and struggled to rise, amidst more suggestive taunts from the crowd about newly-weds.

    “Don’t struggle. Don’t give them a show.” His strong arms pinned her to the ground. “Are you all right, Lindsay?” he whispered and shook his head. “I mean the babe and all? If there had been any other way…”

    She could only nod.        

   It was a moment suspended in time. The nasty mob faded. Her senses centered on Bart. Their hearts pounded as one, curiously synchronized, and their breaths mingled, lightly caressing. The tensile strength of his arms, and the warmth of his embrace enfolded her. 

She melted against him, pliant to his touch, blood surging through her veins.  

    “Minnie’s fine, but we'll need the Judge to get her away from Bruno. Do you understand?” he asked.

    She heard his words as if from far away, they tumbled through her mind but failed to make an impression. Her body’s reaction to him filled her senses.

    Bart’s light-blue eyes drilled into hers. He shook her and repeated, “Lindsay, do you understand me?”

    The urgency in his voice finally penetrated to her. The low murmur of the mob swelled into a roar. Turning her head from Bart’s disturbing gaze, the world above her took on a razor-sharp clarity. She nodded.

    He exhaled. “Good.”

He released her and rolled to one side and then got to his feet. The hot July air felt suddenly cold on her skin without Bart’s body covering her.

    Leaning down, he grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet, announcing, “Show’s over, folks. Where’s Judge Bean?”

A MISTLETOE CHRISTMAS Blurb:

Ginny Brown is a poor seamstress’ daughter who worships the ground Chad MacKillian walks on... from afar. For as long as she can remember, she’s been in love with the prominent rancher. Befriended by Chad’s sister, Ginny overcomes her shyness when Chad finally notices her.

Unknown to Ginny or his sister, Chad is already engaged to the neighboring rancher’s daughter, but their engagement is a business arrangement. The more time Chad spends with Ginny, the more he questions his future plans. Torn between honoring his engagement and his growing feelings for Ginny, he avoids making a decision.

When Chad’s fiancée catches him kissing Ginny beneath the mistletoe, she breaks their engagement. Chad is relieved to be free, but Ginny is humiliated and has had enough of his inconstancy. Faced with losing Ginny and fighting off outlaws bent on revenge, Chad begs Ginny to marry him. But can Chad convince Ginny he really loves her and is eager for her to be his wife?

Hebby Roman, Author

Hebby Roman is the multi-published, Amazon best-selling author of both historical and contemporary romances. Her first contemporary romance, SUMMER DREAMS, was the launch title for Encanto, a print line featuring Latino romances. And her re-published e-book, SUMMER DREAMS, was #1 in Amazon fiction and romance. Her medieval historical romance, THE PRINCESS AND THE TEMPLAR, was selected for the Amazon Encore program and was #1 in medieval fiction.

She was selected for the Romantic Times "Texas Author" award, and she won a national Harlequin contest. Her book, BORDER HEAT, was a Los Angeles Times Book Festival selection. Her contemporary romance, TO DANCE AGAIN, was a 2016 RONE Finalist.

She is blessed to have all her family living close by in north Texas, including her two granddaughters, Mackenzie Reese and Presley Davis. Hebby lives in Arlington, Texas with her husband, Luis, and maltipoo, Maximillian.

You can find all her books at Amazon.  Or visit her website or Facebook.

Don't forget the first in the trilogy, A HARD CANDY CHRISTMAS.

HOME SWEET TEXAS HOME, BOOK ONE OF THE TEXAS HOME SERIES

 Cinderella stories still exist, and characters still find their fairy tale ending. HOME SWEET TEXAS HOME, Texas Home series book one, is a modern day Cinderella story with a happily-ever-after ending that (I hope) will leave you sighing and wishing for the next in the series. Two more books in the series will be released this summer, unless life plays dirty tricks on me—again. 

I’ve just recovered my rights to this book. When an author recovers rights to a book, the rights don't include the cover, which was produced by the previous publisher.  I love the new cover created by Ramona Lockwood. She's also doing the covers for the next two in the Texas Home series, FINDING MY TEXAS HOME and BACK TO MY TEXAS HOME.

HOME, SWEET TEXAS HOME is a sweet contemporary set in West Texas near where I grew up. My uncle and cousins were farmers who also sometimes raised cattle. Can’t keep all your eggs in one basket, right? My husband had several uncles who were ranchers and farmers, and some of his cousins still farm. Both Hero and I grew up in Lubbock, called “the Hub of the Plains” by their Chamber of Commerce.

A cotton field near Lubbock, Texas
On Highway 84

To raise money to build their new house, my father-in-law raised cotton on a field at the edge of town and my husband had to help. Hero remembers clearing hundreds of tumbleweeds from the land and burning them. Needless to say, he hates tumbleweeds. After several years, the family had saved enough cash to buy a lot and build on it, with my father-in-law as contractor and doing some of the work himself. Once they’d saved enough to build the house, that was the end of their cotton farming. My husband was grateful. I suspect his father was even more so.

Not threatening singly, but tumbleweeds tend
to collect on fencelines and in fields.

When Hero came in dirty and tired from working in the field, his mom would tell him that if he didn’t go to college, he’d be doing work like that forever. He didn’t know what his degree would be in, but he knew then that he was going to college so he’d never have to farm again. 

He went from college to work in Dallas. But later we moved to a rural acreage for over 20 years so he could raise peaches and vegetables in addition to his rocket scientist job. Life does play funny tricks on us, doesn’t it? We sold our acreage and home last summer and moved to our current snug home in a Fort Worth suburb.

Hero just can’t get farming out of his blood, though, and has a nice garden at the back of our current property. We have a lovely yard with lots of large trees. We’ve placed roses in the areas where there’s enough sun. But I digress.

About the time my future husband was burning tumbleweeds and “chopping cotton,” as hoeing weeds is called, my family moved to Lubbock so Dad could buy cotton. We had spent three years in small rural areas where my dad managed a cotton gin. 

Although we didn't know Hero or his family at the time, my dad chose our house at the same edge of town as where my husband lived. We were so pleased to have our own new home. Dad had built houses when we lived in California when I was small, but the house he was building for us always ended up sold because he and mother couldn’t turn down a tidy profit. 

Anyway, we were happy to finally own one similar—though not nearly as well built—to those Dad had built in California. Our first year in Lubbock, cotton plants came up in our flowerbeds because the housing development was carved from a cotton farm. 

You can see that a book about that area might be close to my heart. Here’s the HOME SWEET TEXAS HOME blurb:

Courtney Madison has battled poverty her entire twenty-five years but is determined to make a safe and happy home for her teenaged brother after the recent death of their mom. Her mom’s illness left Courtney with a mountain of hospital bills, her formerly sweet brother Jimmy is now cutting class and hanging with a rough crowd, and she’s just learned she’s being downsized in two weeks. Hanging on by the threads of a fraying rope, she learns she’s inherited two million dollars from a kind elderly man she befriended when he was in the hospital across the hall from her mom. She thinks her inheritance in West Texas is the answer to all her prayers--but Courtney learns that while money improves her life, it doesn’t guarantee happiness. This modern Cinderella encounters problems even a fairy godmother couldn’t imagine.

Rancher/entrepeneur Derek Corrigan has incredible instincts for flourishing in the business world. With women, not so much. In fact, his friends bemoan he’s King Midas where money is concerned, but his judgment of women is pathetic--evidenced by his late wife and now the flamboyant woman he’s been escorting of late. As far as Derek is concerned, all he wants is to be a good dad to his children Warren, aged 8, and Meg, aged 5. Derek suspects the worst of his new neighbor and vows to fight his attraction for her. The only way he can protect his children and himself is to keep his private life very private. Besides, he knows what women do to him--they always leave and take chunks of his heart with them. He's been there, done that, had the vaccination and is cured. Isn't he?

HOME, SWEET TEXAS HOME excerpt:

Set up: Derek surprised both he and Courtney when he asked her to the Winter Madness Ball held at the local county club.

They joined the others circling the room and Derek pulled her into his arms. He looked down at her while they twirled to a waltz. His beautiful cobalt eyes held passion and tenderness. She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder.

His arm tightened, snuggling her to him. His lips brushed her hair and she thought he murmured her name. Contentment washed over her, sending her encounter with Janelle far away.

          A samba followed. He put both hands on her hips and she rested her hands on his shoulders. They moved as one to the rhythmic beats. Erotic fantasies invaded her mind. Tropical isles, sun drenched beaches, surf gliding gently over their entwined bodies.

          In the middle of the next number, a fox trot, Derek guided her to the edge of the ballroom floor and out into the lobby. Gently, he pulled her into a shadowy corner before he pressed his lips to hers. For Courtney, they were alone in the universe.

          He pulled her closer and she melted at his touch. She slipped her hands inside his jacket and wound both arms around him to knead his back, oblivious to anyone else in the world.

          As he slowly raised his head, she felt herself pulled into those deep blue eyes.

          Her senses reeled from his kiss and she struggled to maintain at least a shred of her sanity. “You’re a prominent person here, and this is a public area.”

          “You’re right, but I couldn’t wait a second longer to kiss you.” He pulled her head to his chest. “Let me hold you a few moments longer.”

          With his arms gently caressing her, she rested against his chest. When at last she raised her head to meet his gaze, he exhaled in resignation and brushed his lips across hers. “I know, I know. We should rejoin the others.”

HOME, SWEET TEXAS HOME is available in print and e-book from Amazon and in e-book from other online stores. I hope you’ll give it a read and let me know what you think.

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Home-Sweet-Texas-Caroline-Clemmons-ebook/dp/B00J6Y033A/ref=sr_1_14?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1395974633&sr=1-14&keywords=caroline+clemmons

Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/home-sweet-texas-home-caroline-clemmons/1103786999?ean=2940149338092

Thanks for stopping by!

A MODERN CINDERELLA STORY AND A PRIZE

Most of us grew up hearing fairy tales, and many romance books are those same tales retold. HOME SWEET TEXAS HOME is a modern day Cinderella story with a happily-ever-after ending that (I hope) will leave you sighing and wishing for the next in the Sweet Springs series. Those next two books in the series will be released in 2014

Welcome to the Fairy Tale Giveaway Hop sponsored by IAmAReaderNotAWriter, The Book Rat, and A Backwards Story. To celebrate the blog hop, I'm giving away two print copies US or e-books International of HOME SWEET TEXAS HOME, a sweet modern Cinderella with the requisite fairy tale ending that come after problems even a fairy godmother never dreamed. 

HOME, SWEET TEXAS HOME is a sweet contemporary set in West Texas near where I grew up. My uncle and cousins were farmers who also sometimes raised cattle. Can’t keep all your eggs in one basket, right? My husband had several uncles who were ranchers and farmers, and some of his cousins still farm.  Although we live in a rural area now, both Hero and I grew up in the “big city” of Lubbock.

Cowboy in a fall roundup on a West Texas ranch

To raise money to build their new house, my father-in-law raised cotton on a field at the edge of town and my husband had to help. Hero remembers clearing hundreds of tumbleweeds from the land and burning them. Needless to say, he hates tumbleweeds! After several years, the family had saved enough cash to buy a lot and build on it, with my father-in-law as contractor and doing some of the work himself. Once they’d saved enough to build, that was the end of their cotton farming. My husband was truly grateful. When he came in dirty and tired from working in the field, his mom would tell him that if he didn’t go to college, he’d be doing work like that forever. He didn’t know what his degree would be in, but he knew then that he was going to college so he’d never have to farm again. He did, and now years later, here we are living on a small acreage so he can raise fruit trees and a vegetables in a large garden. Life certainly plays tricks on us, doesn’t it?

Tumbleweed rolling with the wind

Here’s a video about tumbleweeds even my husband can’t hate.

About the time my future husband was burning tumbleweeds and “chopping cotton” (as hoeing weeds is called), my family moved to Lubbock so Dad could buy cotton. My dad picked out our house at the same edge of town as where my future husband lived. (Thank you, Dad!) We were so pleased to have our own new home. Dad had built houses when we lived in California when I was small, but the house he was building for us always ended up sold because he and mother couldn’t turn down a tidy profit. Anyway, we were happy to finally own one similar--though not nearly as well built--to those he had built in California. Our first year in Lubbock, cotton plants came up in our flowerbeds because the housing development was carved from a cotton farm. 

West Texas cotton field ready to harvest

You can see that a book about that area might be close to my heart. I hope you'll let me share the story with you.

HOME SWEET TEXAS HOME Blurb

Courtney Madison has battled poverty her entire twenty-five years but is determined to make a safe and happy home for her teen-aged brother after the recent death of their mom. Her mom’s illness left Courtney with a mountain of hospital bills, her formerly sweet brother Jimmy is now cutting class and hanging with a rough crowd, and she’s just learned she’s being downsized in two weeks. Hanging on by the threads of a fraying rope, she learns she’s inherited two million dollars from a kind elderly man she befriended when he was in the hospital across the hall from her mom. She thinks her inheritance in West Texas is the answer to all her prayers--but Courtney learns that while money improves her life, it doesn’t guarantee happiness. This modern Cinderella encounters problems even a fairy godmother couldn’t imagine.

Rancher/entrepreneur Derek Corrigan has incredible instincts for flourishing in the business world. With women, not so much. In fact, his friends bemoan he’s King Midas where money is concerned, but his judgment of women is pathetic--evidenced by his late wife and now the flamboyant woman he’s been escorting of late. As far as Derek is concerned, all he wants is to be a good dad to his children Warren, aged 8, and Meg, aged 5. Derek suspects the worst of his new neighbor and vows to fight his attraction for her. The only way he can protect his children and himself is to keep his private life very private. Besides, he knows what women do to him--they always leave and take chunks of his heart with them. He's been there, done that, had the vaccination and is cured. Isn't he?

Here’s an excerpt from this modern day Cinderella story. The set up is that hero Derek Corrigan arranged for his best friend Rusty to be heroine Courtney Madison’s date for a neighborhood potluck the previous Friday. Derek would have asked Courtney himself, but he’d already made a date with an old friend, Janelle, before he learned of the party. Things didn’t go well at the social event, and now it’s Monday morning.

HOME, SWEET TEXAS HOME Excerpt

After wrestling with himself all weekend, Derek had come to apologize to Courtney. The two of them

had to keep working together for the better part of year. Somehow she’d found out he’d set her up with

Rusty and misunderstood. She left a message with Rosa that she’d arranged for the repair of his truck

and that Jimmy would be working off the cost of repairs. Didn’t even ask to speak to him.

He figured she was still mad, but he didn’t see why. What was so all-fired wrong with setting her

up with a nice guy like Rusty? He’d just tried to help her get acquainted. Where’s the crime

in that?

At church yesterday, she’d evaded him or looked right through him. That wasn’t even Christian. And just when he was getting used to having her to talk to. Of course, for Rusty she’d been all sugar and cream. Derek smiled in spite of himself. She’d made Janelle spitting mad with that little imitation act. He’d never seen anyone get the best of Janelle, but Courtney had. Everyone got it, and laughed. Except Janelle.

Oh, no. Janelle didn’t laugh at herself. She’d sulked the rest of the evening. He vowed never, but never, to ask Janelle anywhere again.

In Courtney’s house the next day, Derek grabbed a cup of coffee as he passed through the kitchen. Courtney was in the living room consulting with two painters. He stopped dead in his tracks. What the hell did she need with painters? Hadn’t this house been plenty good enough for Maggie and for Sam just as it was? Sure it had, and plenty good enough for him too. Why did Courtney have to go changing things?

When she saw him standing in the kitchen doorway, she paused. “Joe and Juan helped me get our trucks to Buddy’s garage. Buddy will call you when yours is repaired.” She stared, eyebrow lifted. “Did we have an appointment about something else today?"

An appointment? In his own house? He kept forgetting it wasn’t his house anymore. The house wasn’t Sam’s either. A pang of sorrow stabbed his heart and sliced downward. This had been his place with Sam and Maggie—the place they’d built especially for him. That was then; this was now. The whole place was hers and she could make any changes she chose. He had no say in anything she did with the house and farm. Instead, he was now the interloper in her house.

He exhaled. “No, but I’d like a word with you when you have a minute. I’ll just wait in Sam’s, um, your study.”

Ten minutes later she came in and he’d swear the room’s temperature dropped twenty degrees. She closed the door softly behind her. Man, but he had the distinct feeling she’d have preferred to slam it—and hard.

The second the door clicked shut, she launched into him. “Derek Corrigan, I realize you think I’m an incompetent social pariah. However, do not ever, ever take it upon yourself to find dates for me. No matter how nice the man might be. Do I make myself clear?”

Her quick breaths recalled the way she’d looked with only the sheet covering her breasts. Admiring her fire, he wished she wouldn’t direct it at him. Oh, hell. How had she found out about that? Rusty never would have told her.

He threw up his arms. “I thought it would be nice for you to have an escort since you don’t know anyone here yet. Okay? What’s so wrong with that?”

“For your information, I had a date the weekend before the party.”

He froze, and blood drained from his body. Who had she been out with? He’d bet it was that creep Lance Thompson. Damn the man. “I was only trying to help.”

She shook a finger in his face. “You should have asked me first. Do you have any idea how humiliated I was to learn Rusty didn’t ask me on his own? I had to hear from Janelle that I was a charity case.”

Damn, damn, damn. His fingers clenched and he wanted to punch the wall. He should have guessed Janelle was the culprit.

Courtney turned and paced. “And to think I fell for that fake visit to Rusty’s where he just happened to have fresh coffee and a cake from his mother. Oh, brother, I guess you both got a laugh out of that.”

“No, we did not laugh. Hey, you needed to meet him, right? And once he met you he said he would have asked you anyway, so what's the difference?”

When she opened her mouth and stepped toward him, he tried again before she could launch another  attack. “Look, Janelle shouldn’t have told you, but you shouldn’t have made her cry, either.”

“Humph.” Courtney narrowed her eyes. “Puhleeze, me make that woman cry? Give me a break. That woman hasn’t cried since she got her first training bra.” She paced the office as if she were being paid by the step.

Man, Courtney had one smart mouth on her when her anger took over. “She cried because you called her a piranha after she tried so hard to make you feel welcome to the community.”

She stopped pacing again. “Your girlfriend certainly made no effort to welcome me. In fact, she did everything within her power to make me feel unwanted.”

Hell, how had he come to be defending Janelle? “She’s not my anything. We...um, she’s just gone through a rough divorce.” He suddenly remembered that this was Janelle’s third divorce, but Courtney didn’t need to know that. “Neither of us wants to remarry. She likes to have a presentable escort when a twosome is called for—“

“Please spare me.” She held up a hand. “I’m not interested in the sordid details of your sexual liaisons.”

“They’re not sex…” He swallowed hard. “Not liaisons of any kind, just two people going out with no strings attached. Okay?”

Courtney faced him and jammed fists on her hips. “If you believe that woman is not interested in marriage, and to you, then what I heard was right.”

Anger raced through him. How he hated gossip. He’d been hurt too deeply by rumors, first as a child about his parents’ lifestyle and poverty, and later by his wife’s escapades. No, he’d never speak a word of gossip himself. How he’d like to shut Courtney up now by kissing her senseless instead of waging this stupid argument.

“Oh yeah?” He took a deep breath and glared. “What did you hear?”

She stepped toward him and leaned into his face. “That where making money is concerned, you’re King Midas, but where women are concerned, you really are dumb as dirt.”

“Who says?” He clamped his jaw tight. Damned if he’d apologize now. He’d bet Elaine made that wisecrack. She’d been mad at him ever since grade school when he’d called her a chipmunk. “Was it Elaine?”

“Everyone who knows you says it.” She stamped her foot. “Do you hear me? Everyone!”

“Yeah, well at least Janelle is nicer than that creep Lance Thompson. I suppose you plan to keep seeing him?” He didn’t trust that man and couldn’t understand why she didn’t see through Lance’s fake so-called charm.

“As a matter of fact, I am. He’s an interesting date.”

The ring of the telephone forestalled her next comment. She gave him another of her molten glares before she picked up the receiver. “Hello.” She staggered backward to a chair. Her eyes widened as color drained from her face. “I’ll be there right away.”

He stepped forward. “What’s happened? Who’s hurt?”

With shaking hands, she leaped up and grabbed her purse and keys. “Jimmy’s been in a fight at school.”

Purchase Information

HOME, SWEET TEXAS HOME is available in print and e-book from The Wild Rose Press at www.thewildrosepress.com/caroline-clemmons-m-638.html and at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and other online stores. I hope you’ll give it a read and let me know what you think. 

And if you're interested in winning a free copy of HOME SWEET TEXAS HOME, please remember to
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Thanks for stopping by!

HEAT UP VALENTINE'S DAY WITH SNOWFIRES

Happy Valentine’s Day! What’s better on a wintry day than curling up with the one you love? I’m so happy you asked. Whether the weather outside is frightful or delightful, snuggle with your sweetie, your favorite beverage, and a sizzling book. And I have a book to suggest, just as you knew I would!



But first, here's the story of how I came to write SNOWFIRES. My husband and I were traveling from visiting our family in West Texas back to our North Central Texas home. Three days before, a deep snow had postponed our return. When there's a blizzard or freezing weather, Texans often joke that there's nothing but a barbed wire fence between us and the North Pole. Brrr, that trip I certainly believed that saying.

As Hero and I drove home, I once again commented on the isolation of the homes in countryside dedicated to ranching. That kernel grew into the story, SNOWFIRES.

We passed many isolated areas, and I wondered what would happen if someone had car trouble or became marooned in a storm. Even in good weather, cell phone service is often spotty in the ranching areas of West Texas. In bad weather, it’s non-existent. Rural electric and telephone lines fail under heavy snow and ice. Better and better, right? By that, I mean worse and worse for the characters. The more I thought about it, the more appeal the idea held.



 The barbed wire fence between
us and the North Pole
By Steve Shames

 For you city readers, if you're driving in a rural area and see a bluish light shining from the barn or garage or a pole in the yard, that's a mercury vapor light similar to city street lights. Hero and I have one of these lights by our garage. We had often joked about the mercury vapor light salesman having made his way through the area because most ranch homes had at least one of the lights.


Writers spin stories with “what if.” What if there were a blizzard and one those mercury vapor lights acted as a lighthouse does to ships? What if the hero and heroine were at odds and became snowbound at one of these ranches? Better, what if the ranch owners weren’t home and the hero and heroine were isolated alone? Would they work through their differences or call a temporary truce?


The heroine who spoke to me was Holly Tucker, a lovely and determined woman of twenty-nine. A nurturer, Holly cared for her family and for the employees of her firm. Thirty-six-year-old Trent Mcleod began life with nothing and built his fortune through hard work and good investments. Now he is part of Holly’s formerly family-only company. That would be bad enough, but he wants to change the rules established by her late father, Walter Tucker.


Once they returned to Dallas, I forced them to endure still working together. Writers love to make their characters suffer. After all, we want them to earn their happiness, don’t we?


The SNOWFIRES cover reminds me of the late January night my husband and I were married. That night there were a couple of feet of snow on the ground and a bright, full moon. Of course it was gorgeous and memorable, and we still mention it today when we see an especially bright full moon. But then, we are both romantics at heart.

Here’s the blurb for SNOWFIRES:



A blizzard can’t quench the fiery heat of passionate attraction. Holly only intended to get a little of her own back from Trent, not get them lost in the worst blizzard in decades. A snowstorm can’t keep them apart once their passions ignite. Holly Tucker believes Trent Macleod will ruin her family’s business now that he’s acquired her late father’s shares. Not only that, she fears he’s responsible for her father’s fatal heart attack. She’ll stop this corporate pirate any way she can. If only she could tame her hormones when he was around. He believes she’s a spoiled and pampered woman. Little does he know how wrong he is. Pampered by her grandparents, yes, but she carries all the responsibility for her stepmother and two stepsisters. Only Holly’s constant juggling of family finances covers her stepmother’s excessive spending. That and the fact Holly actually works in the family business.



Trent started with nothing and saved most of his life for this one big chance. Holly’s trick to delay their return to Dallas for an important meeting almost cost him his dream. After battling all his life against bad foster parents, crooks, and the press, he is determined no one will defeat him, not even Holly. How can she still believe her father was such a great guy? Trent doesn’t know why she is so opposed to every thing he suggests for the company. Thank heavens she is not so stand offish when they’re alone. She even invited him around her country club friends. Does a guy from nowhere stand a chance with a society princess like Holly? He prays he does, because he can’t get her out of his dreams, day or night. What will it take for him to achieve happily ever after with Holly?


Here’s the excerpt from the first night they’re marooned in the freezing, tiny ranch house. You might like to know that Grayson is her maternal grandfather: 

Trent smiled as he recalled her shocked expression when he mentioned shared body heat. At least he got a little of his own back then. She turned toward him in her sleep, snuggling up to him with her palms against his chest, one leg thrown over his.


He fought the instinct to pull her even closer and make passionate love to her. They fit so well together. He wondered how she would be as a lover, then mentally kicked himself for that line of thought.


Now he knew why the young Martin family had children so close in age. On this sagging mattress, which forced their bodies into intimate contact, a man and woman who loved one another would be drawn naturally into frequent lovemaking. Even with this ice princess with whom he had nothing in common, his mind and body cried out for their coupling.


He had no idea why she so resented him. It was more than their differences in business theory, because she had hated him at their first meeting two months ago. He racked his brain for a possible reason, but nothing came to him.


Maybe she just resented his buying the shares lost through her father's gambling. Why hold him responsible for her father’s stupidity? From all accounts, Walter Tucker was charming and glib but an absolute loser in all the ways that counted.


Grayson skirted the issue, but made it clear he hadn’t approved of his late son-in-law's management of Marvel, his ostentatious lifestyle, or his choice of Holly’s stepmother. So, why had Grayson stayed in the background? Buying into what had previously been solely a family-owned business left Trent an outsider with insufficient information.


If only Walter Tucker had stopped ranting long enough that day to listen to him...but why even go there? He would figure it all out eventually, but so far hadn't discovered how all the pieces fit. Trying to unravel the puzzle, Trent drifted softly to sleep.


***


The pirate returned to Holly's dreams. They were in the cabin of his ship, snug together in his bunk. This time his caresses inflamed her beyond her wildest imagination. Her fingers traced the line of the scar on his chest, her lips trailed kisses along the jagged ridge.


His mouth scorched a path down her neck and across her shoulders. Strong hands pushed her bra aside. Warm lips found her breast and his tongue laved her rigid nipple. The calluses of his fingers scintillated her skin as they moved to the elastic of her panties. His hand slid gently inside to touch her—


Her eyes flew open. "Hey! Stop it right now." Holly pounded Trent on his shoulders. "Get off of me."

I hope you’ll want to read SNOWFIRES. This is NOT erotica, but is probably the hottest book I have written or will write because I seem to be moving toward sweet and/or slightly sensual.


The Amazon Kindle buy link is


http://www.amazon.com/SNOWFIRES-ebook/dp/B004LROUH2/ref=sr_1_7?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1329016651&sr=1-7

Smashwords is http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/36055?ref=CarolineClemmons

Thanks for stopping by!

PEEK AT HOME, SWEET TEXAS HOME

Please let me share the opening chapter of my sweet contemporary romance, HOME, SWEET TEXAS HOME, available in print and e-book from The Wild Rose Press and other online sources. Unlike many of my romances, no one dies or is kidnapped in this book. Focusing on family values, you'll find humor, pathos, blossoming romance, and...okay, a bit of larceny. The setting for this modern Cinderella story is in and near where I grew up in Lubbock, Texas.



A Lubbock County
cotton field

 My dad was involved in the cotton business, but there are numerous ranches in the area as well as many other industries. Lubbock is cited as "The Hub of the Plains" by locals. Part of the story takes part in the fictional town of Sweet Springs, and there are two other books planned for the Sweet Springs series. Here's the blurb for HOME, SWEET TEXAS HOME:

Courtney Madison has battled poverty her entire twenty-five years but is determined to make a safe and happy home for her teenaged brother after the recent death of their mom. Her mom’s illness left Courtney with a mountain of hospital bills, her formerly sweet brother Jimmy is now cutting class and hanging with a rough crowd, and she’s just learned she’s being downsized in two weeks. Hanging on by the threads of a fraying rope, she learns she’s inherited two million dollars from a kind elderly man she befriended when he was in the hospital across the hall from her mom. She thinks her inheritance in West Texas is the answer to all her prayers--but Courtney learns that while money improves her life, it doesn’t guarantee happiness. This modern Cinderella encounters problems even a fairy godmother couldn’t imagine.

Rancher/entrepeneur Derek Corrigan has incredible instincts for flourishing in the business world. With women, not so much. In fact, his friends bemoan he’s King Midas where money is concerned, but his judgment of women is pathetic--evidenced by his ex-wife and the flamboyant woman he’s been escorting of late. His main interest is his two children, Warren eight, and Meg five. He's intrigued by Courtney, yet Derek suspects the worst of his new neighbor and vows to fight his attraction for her. He knows what women do to him--they always leave and take chunks of his heart with them. He's been there, done that, had the vaccination and is cured. Isn't he?

And here's a peek at the first chapter that begins in Dallas:

                      Chapter One

Courtney Madison rushed down the main aisle of Baker’s Books. Warmth enveloped her, a welcome change from the freezing Dallas weather outside. She was hurrying toward her office at the back of the store when a man stepped from the mystery section. Their collision knocked off his western hat and a stack of books from his hands.

Downtown Dallas, where Courtney
works in a book store

“I’m so sorry.” She leaned over to retrieve his things.



“My fault. Let me help.” He bent and grabbed the Stetson.



Her head collided with his and her purse slid from her grasp. Pain radiated across her scalp. She’d be sure to have a bump tomorrow.


Both straightened and stepped back. She stared at the books she’d knocked from his arms. “How could I have been so clumsy? You must be wondering what’s keeping the rest of the Three Stooges…” When she raised her head, her sentence trailed away.



Cobalt blue eyes met her gaze. He stood a good seven inches taller than she, which put him at about three inches over six feet. A deep tan with crinkled lines at the corner of each eye suggested a man at home in wind and weather. The white line of a scar on one cheek and a tiny crook in his nose added ruggedness to his otherwise breathtaking good looks.

 Close your mouth before you drool on him.



When she knelt again to retrieve the half dozen or so books he’d dropped, he bent to help, his large tanned hands making short work of the task. A unique scent teased her nostrils, a blend of subtle woodsy toiletries.



He leaned nearer, speaking low. “I thought tornado season started in March, not January.” A smile spread across his face and created a twinkle in his gorgeous eyes.



She knew he meant her, but after an upsetting meeting with her brother’s school counselor this afternoon, combined with her formerly sweet brother’s recent behavior changes, she felt as if she’d been sucked into the vortex of a tornado herself.


Her face heated in a blush. “Speaking in defense of this particular tornado—” she pointed to herself “—I was whirling along nicely until I hit your brick wall.” She pointed to his broad chest and smiled.



He swept up her purse and offered it to her as he rose. She saw the sparks of interest in his twinkling eyes.



“Thanks.” Courtney stood and slid the bag’s strap over her shoulder. Something about him tugged at her memory, but surely she’d recall meeting a man this attractive.


He shifted his reclaimed stack of mysteries and his hat while he gave her an appraising look. The twinkle in his eyes faded and his brows knit. “Are you Courtney Madison?”



Perplexed he knew her name, she nodded, but still couldn’t place him. “Have we met somewhere?”



When he held out his right hand, his smile was polite but cool. “I’m Derek Corrigan.”



“Of course, Sam Warren’s son. Sam showed me photos of you and your children.” She took his warm hand in hers, making her wish she’d worn gloves on her errand. “I was so sorry I couldn’t attend Sam’s funeral.”



Her throat closed and she fought the tears that gathered in her eyes at the mention of Sam’s name. Sighing, she patted their clasped right hands with her left. “And I’m so sorry you lost Sam. Even though you kept your birth name, I know he was your father in all the ways that count.”


“That he was.” His voice grew gravelly. “Appreciated your note and the flowers.”


She smiled up at him. “I’ve missed hearing from him. He was such a dear man.”



He eased his fingers from hers and looked around. “Is there somewhere we could speak in private?”



Embarrassed she’d held his hand for so long, Courtney also became aware that the only other customer in the store now inched closer, obviously eavesdropping. “Let’s go to my office, shall we?” She gestured toward the back then turned.


Her assistant manager, Billy, ambled in their direction. “Need help back here?”



“Everything’s fine now but I’ll be in my office for a while. Could you continue watching the register?”



“Sure thing, Courtney.” Billy headed for the check-out counter near the front of the store.

Lubbock in West Texas
where Derek has
an office

Though Derek waited for her to guide the way, he carried himself with the air of one used to leading, of giving orders and having them obeyed without question.



She smoothed her hand self-consciously along the waist of her old gray corduroy—her best work dress—and led the way through the maze of aisles to her office. The tiny cubicle at the side of the storeroom shrank even smaller with this man in it. What she’d once thought a subtle rose potpourri on her desk now seemed overwhelming. She knew Derek was a wealthy businessman, and reasoned he probably thought her office shabby.



If he did, she admitted he’d be correct. She’d used her own funds to paint the windowless walls a soothing sea-foam green. From garage sales, she’d found the ladder-back visitor’s chair and two framed prints for the walls. In spite of her efforts to glamorize the tiny space, the office was obviously only a walled-off area of the storage room.

Derek appeared to scan the nameplate on her desk.


Courtney Madison, Manager.



The polished brass plaque on a mahogany stand had been a gift from her mother and Jimmy two years earlier when she’d been promoted to Manager. As far as Courtney was concerned, the title might as well have said Terminated Manager, Desperately Seeking New Position.


She hated thinking about the huge book chain megastore that had opened only one block away from Baker’s Books. Despite all the marketing strategies she, her coworkers, and the owner had tried, sales had plummeted. Mel Baker would emerge from retirement in one week to reclaim his position as manager of Baker’s Books. At that time, Courtney’s and Billy’s jobs ceased.


Not that the change was a black mark against her abilities. In fact, Mel highly praised her management and the way she’d fought declining profits. But with Billy and Courtney gone, the store’s two largest salaries would be eliminated. Mel hoped to salvage the independent bookstore he’d founded and owned for thirty years. Sadly, Courtney believed Mel was fighting a battle he’d already lost. She sighed and pulled her attention back to her visitor.



Courtney slid her arms from her jacket and hung it and her purse on the coat rack. With so little room in her office, she stepped around to sit at her desk, extending her hand toward the only other chair. “Please, sit down.”


Derek complied then placed his hat on the desk. He wore his black hair in a traditional style. Nothing less than custom tailoring had produced the gray western-cut suit he wore with casual elegance. He crossed one leg over the other, displaying hand-tooled black boots. “Didn’t you get a letter inviting you to the reading of Sam’s will?”



She nodded. “That was nice of Mr. Webb, but if I could have gotten away from work, I would have used the time to attend the funeral. I dropped Mr. Webb a note that I trusted him to see I received whatever Sam wanted me to have.” A thought struck her, and she braced herself for more bad news. “Or, do I forfeit the gift since I couldn’t attend the reading?” She wondered at the odd expression on his face and his wrinkled forehead.



From an inside jacket pocket, he removed a folded sheaf of papers. “You get what Sam willed you, regardless of whether or not you showed up to hear about it.”

Anticipation made her smile. “Great. I’ll bet he left me a copy of his and Maggie’s wedding photo. I’d asked him for one. When I heard Sam had included me in his will, I decided that’s what my inheritance must be.” But surely he would have kept a photo flat.



He narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t know Maggie. Why would you want her in the photo?”



She sat straighter, wondering about his gruff tone. “Sam told me stories about her, the early years of their marriage, and how hard they worked. I feel as if I knew her through his tales. They must have been a great team.”



“They were. He was never the same after she died.” He exhaled and shrugged. “That’s not why I’m here. A few days before he died, Sam mentioned you’d asked him for a loan.”



“D-do you mean he agreed and you’re honoring it?” Hope built in her chest. Maybe there was a chance for her and Jimmy to start over after all. “When I didn’t hear back, I figured he was hesitant to give me the loan.”



“Not at all. He mentioned your request. Apparently, he made certain you got precisely what he wanted for you even in the event of his death.” He unfolded the papers and pushed them across the desk. “Here’s a copy of Sam’s will detailing all he’s left you.”



“All? You mean more than one thing?” She took the papers, but her mind whirled so much she couldn’t read them. Instead, she watched the man across from her.



Derek flexed his shoulders slightly and moved as if he sought a more comfortable position on the narrow chair. “You made quite an impression on Sam because—with some conditions—he’s left you property worth well over two million dollars.”



Courtney’s heart almost stopped. Her hands shook and a chill swept over her. Could all the blood have drained from her body and she still be alive? The ticking clock on her wall became a gong that echoed in her mind.



Two million. Two million. Two million.



She clasped her hands in her lap to still their shaking. The walls of the tiny office closed in. She gasped for air, tried to speak, and then gasped again. “Did…um, did you say…t-two million dollars?”



He nodded but his eyes narrowed. “I did.”


“You can’t mean it.” Her heart pumped so fast her head swam. She’d asked for a loan to start a business, nothing more.



“It’s true.” He watched her, eyes still narrowed.


She blinked and shook her head. Still unable to take in the will’s content, she looked at her hands and refolded them on top the desk.


“I don’t understand. Sam hinted several times that he wanted to help Jimmy and me. I knew he had money from the way he talked about himself. But I thought Sam was, well, just a semi-retired farmer with a comfortable nest egg.”

Where Courtney will
be living on the
West Texas Plains

Derek laughed. “Sam farmed and ranched. In fact, he owned two ranches—and three farms, cotton gins, oil wells, apartment buildings, and an office complex—in addition to his portfolio of various other investments.”


“Oh my. That’s so much more than I imagined.” She looked up, trying to reconcile Sam’s wealth with the sweet elderly man she’d known. “Not that he bragged, you understand. He mentioned he had more than he needed to last him all his life and could afford to give some away. He kept hinting he could help Jimmy and me.”



She leaned forward. “That’s why I dared ask him for the loan. To be paid back with interest, of course. If he hadn’t dropped pointed hints, I wouldn't have asked for the loan. But I never dreamed he was so wealthy.”



“Now you have the full picture.”


As memories of the wizened old man returned, she looked past her handsome visitor. In spite of Sam’s unhealthy pallor, years of exposure to the sun had weathered his skin like leather. Though age and disease had bent his gnarled body, his smile and the twinkle in his pale eyes made him appear lively. “Perhaps you know I met Sam while my mom was in the hospital across the hall from his room. Sometimes he came into Mother’s room to talk. Other times, I saw him in the hall and walked with him or I stopped by his room.”


Derek nodded and slid his fingers along the knife-sharp crease on his trouser leg. “He introduced me to your mother when I came to bring him home.”



Really? She wondered why her mother hadn’t mentioned that. “He cheered me with stories of the farm and things that had happened to him and Maggie early in their marriage.” The memory of Sam’s chuckle brought a smile as she recalled one of his outrageous yarns. He’d always made her laugh, even when her mother’s illness had dragged Courtney to her lowest ebb.



After a deep breath, she met Derek’s gaze. “His letters were just the same. They were funny, and he helped me through a hard time. I’ve missed them more than I can say.” She rested a forearm on the desk. “I’m sorry, this must be hard for you. You must miss him far more than I ever could.”


Sadness swept across Derek’s face before he regained his composure. He pushed the papers toward her, tapping them with his forefinger. “You’ll see proof in there of the kind of businessman Sam was. If you accept his legacy, you’ll be agreeing to be a rancher, a landlord, and to try several of the many hats he wore.”



Courtney picked up the papers. Encrypted legal terms tempered her excitement with confusion but, as she expected, the will named Derek as main beneficiary. The pages trembled in her hands as she scanned those portions where her name appeared. Unbelievable. She licked lips that had suddenly become as dry as the West Texas cotton Sam had grown. “ Can this be right?” Heart rate pounding in her ears, she raised her gaze. “I get a ranch and two farms, one of which includes the house where Sam lived?”


“That’s right. The ranch adjoins the farm Sam lived on and the other farm is nearby.”


A ranch. Farms, plural. And money. More than she’d ever dreamed of possessing. She pressed trembling fingers to her mouth and tears of joy filled her eyes.



A huge knot of worry unwound in her chest. Thanks to God and Sam Warren, her future was secure! Jimmy was truly saved. A thrill rushed through her. She felt like dancing. No struggles to stretch her paycheck for rent on a rundown duplex and other bills. Instead, she could sweep Jimmy away from his horrid, rough friends.



“You know, friends tell me I’m too serious and act too old for my age. I guess I can’t help that, taking care of my mother and brother as I have. Everyone’s always telling me to lighten up. Lighten up?” She smiled, truly smiled for the first time in a long while. “I’m practically floating.”



Her hand touched the worn fabric of her corduroy dress and her fingers worried the age softened cording. She could buy new clothes. “I can’t believe it’s true, can’t absorb all the details. I’ll study the will at home and try to decipher it.”



Derek toyed with the brim of his hat. “Let me cut to the basics. Sally and Joe Bailey live in a house behind the one you’ve inherited. They’ve worked for Sam for as long as I can remember. Sally cooks and runs the house—she’s a great cook, by the way. You can depend on Joe to run the farm. There are also relatives, our little church, the Sweet Springs Children’s Home, and several other charities mentioned.”



Her gaze sped across the pages looking for the names he spoke. She pointed at a section of the paper and turned it sideways for him to see. “Are these the conditions?”


“Right. Whether you like it or not, for the first year you must live on the farm and be actively involved in the community.” His jaw tightened. “The farm must show a profit and you can’t turn your responsibilities over to a manager while you reside somewhere else.”
 Must live there?



A house and a dozen other benefits popped into her mind. But what did she know of farming?


“That doesn’t give me much time to learn about farming and such.”



He shook his head. “You don’t have to do the actual plowing and planting. Joe will do that. You have to take an active interest in all of your properties, make or help make decisions.”


“Active interest? No problem. I like to keep busy. I don’t know any other way to live.” She straightened in her chair, excitement building at the thought of a new challenge. “I think I can manage to show a profit with this Joe person there to advise me.”



Especially since no dollar amount or percentage of profit was named. Just the same, she wondered about that part. She’d need to hire an accountant.



“What happens if I fail to make a profit or leave before the year is out? Not that I would leave, you understand.”



He drummed his fingers on the desk. “Sam was very generous where you’re concerned. I suppose he couldn’t conceive of you refusing his bequest but, if you do, or if you leave before one year is up, your share goes to my son, Warren. In that case, you’d receive fifty thousand dollars free and clear. If you fail to make a profit?” He dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. “Well, the way things are set up, I don’t see how that could happen.” He shrugged. “Even one dollar over expenses is profit.”



She exhaled and slumped back in her chair. “I know Sam wanted to attract young people back to Sweet Springs and revitalize the community. The loan I asked for was to start a business there.” She pressed the will to her chest, no longer suppressed the laughter bubbling inside her. “This is great. Better than great. This is wonderful.”



Hallelujah! Her prayers had been answered. Throwing her arms wide, she rejoiced. And no more searching for a new job. A new life awaited her in West Texas, and the salary was un-be-liev-able.



Derek held up his hand, palm toward her. “There’s more. Investments you and I share.”



What had he said? “We share investments?” She pointed at herself then at him. ”Do you mean you and I, together?”


He drummed his fingers on the desk again and watched her. “Sam and I shared numerous investments. He left his participation in several of those to you.”



Setting an elbow on the desk, she propped her chin on her hand. She watched this handsome stranger. His inscrutable expression gave her no clue to his true feelings, but he must have a strong opinion of Sam’s will. “What on earth could Sam have been thinking to arrange this bizarre situation?”



When she realized she’d spoken aloud, she raised her head. Her own mind answered before Derek had a chance.
 To save you.



With King Midas here to guide her, she wouldn’t blunder around and lose half her money before she learned the ropes.



Derek shrugged and looked at the door. “Sam had his reasons and, as you can see, you’re a major beneficiary.”



“Well, I…I don’t know what to say. Apparently you’re right and I have indeed inherited a large fortune.” Ah, this probably explained Derek’s less-than-enthusiastic attitude. She sobered. “You want me to refuse this bequest so it will go to your son?”

He shook his head. “You misunderstand my concern. My son doesn’t need the money. Nor, I might add, do I. I don’t care whether you accept or refuse.”



His voice held controlled irritation. At her, the will, or his trip in frigid weather? If her inheritance made no difference, why had he come personally to notify her?


“Then, you aren’t contesting the will?”



His scowl indicated such an action was beneath him. “Certainly not. The money was Sam’s to do with as he saw fit. I merely delivered your copy of the will. And a counteroffer.”


She could not imagine the sum represented by Derek’s share of Sam’s estate, or the financial worth of this obviously prosperous man seated across the desk.



“A counteroffer? You came over three hundred miles to deliver this yourself and make an offer?” Ah, she should have known. This really had been too easy. She crossed her arms. “All right. What is it?”


“I’m prepared to give you the cash value of your inheritance. You won’t have to relocate, won’t have to live on the farm at all, much less stay a year. You’d have it all now.” He leaned near and met her gaze. “Two million right now. No waiting, no gamble. How does that sound?”


Like a dream come true, that’s how. With two million she could buy a great house, a dependable car, travel, do anything her heart desired.


Wait. Why would Derek do that? More importantly, she knew why Sam made those conditions in the will. He wanted young people in his community. He’d counted on her to do her part, just as they’d discussed by mail. She’d genuinely liked Sam and believed he’d returned her friendship. He wanted her in West Texas to help fulfill his dream of enlivening his hometown.

And Jimmy. At that farm, her brother would be three hundred miles from his horrid friends. If she took the money, how would she explain her reasons for leaving Dallas? Hmmm, she tapped a finger on her chin.



No, West Texas seemed like a good solution. In the required year, Jimmy would make new friends. Hopefully, they’d be honest, hardworking friends, instead of punks who pulled him toward dropping out of school or worse.



Decision made, she shook her head. “Sorry, not interested. Sam trusted me to help revitalize Sweet Springs. So, I’ll do my best to fulfill his expectations. You’ve wasted a trip.”

Courtney inherited a
cotton gin

His eyes widened at her refusal. Then annoyance showed in his eyes briefly before the calm mask dropped back into place on his handsome face. “Since I had business in Dallas, it was no trouble to come here and deliver a copy of the will. I admit that after hearing Sam praise you so highly, I was curious and wanted to meet you.”



In her business life she’d been used to placating others. The annoyance she glimpsed briefly in his eyes unsettled her. She met Derek’s gaze and sought to convince him his disapproval was unwarranted.



“You know I asked Sam for a business loan. Please believe that I had no idea he’d include me in his will.”



“He explained that.” Derek uncrossed his legs and stood, brushing at imaginary lint on his sleeve. “So, you’re rejecting my offer and you intend to move to West Texas as per the conditions in the will?”



“Yes.” She calculated her remaining time at the bookstore and figured time for packing her and Jimmy’s belongings. “We’ll arrive in Sweet Springs two weeks from Monday.”


  HOME, SWEET TEXAS HOME has received excellent reviews. Here's part of one review:

Becca at The Romance Studio gave HOME, SWEET TEXAS HOME 5 Hearts

...Ms. Clemmons has penned a fabulous novel in this one with some great secondary characters, such as Derek’s children and Courtney’s brother that helped bring more ambience to the story...this is a story I’d definitely recommend because it illustrates that no amount of money in the world brings happiness and that love does.



The buy link at The Wild Rose Press is

http://www.thewildrosepress.com/caroline-clemmons-m-38.html


At Amazon, the buy link is:
http://www.amazon.com/Home-Sweet-Texas-Caroline-Clemmons/dp/1601549393/ref=sr_1_12?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1320262075&sr=1-12





Thanks for stopping by!