ORPHAN TRAIN ESCAPE!

I haven’t done a book review in a while. Let me share a historical romance which spoke to me, ORPHAN TRAIN ESCAPE, from the Hearts On The Rails Series by Rachel Wesson.

Here’s the synopsis from Amazon:

Bridget Collins is in dire straits - she needs to get out of New York, fast. With two young siblings under her wing, her options are limited.

First, her priest sends her as an outplacement agent on the orphan trains that run from New York to out west.

With almost forty orphans under her care, she's relieved fellow and more experienced outplacement agent Carl Watson, is there to guide her. But Carl is dealing with his own trauma and finds it difficult to handle the pain the orphans are dealing with.

Through tears and laughter, everyone on the orphan train has a lesson to teach about love, life and loyalty. And Bridget finds a new, unexpected calling. Every child deserves a happy home and Bridget is determined to do whatever it takes to ensure that happens. No matter what the cost…

If you’ve read my books you know I love stories about mail-order brides and also orphans. This book has both.

Bridget Collins is one of six orphans. Although the second oldest, she is the most responsible. When the son of her wealthy employer makes unwanted advances, she hurts him. He fires her and her sister and vows to get even with her. She knows he will.

To escape his far-reaching wrath, she and her three sisters and younger brother take refuge in The Sanctuary. They are given shelter and food. Bridget and her next younger sister are taught sewing, which they do well. Her older sister is self-absorbed due to the loss of her fiancé but is given the job of watching children harbored there, which she does poorly and with resentment. The young brother and sister are supposedly in the care of the elder sister.

Bridget is worried about her two wild older brothers but learns they are in jail. The priest and the kindly woman who helps at The Sanctuary find a way to help the brothers.

Word comes to their sanctuary that Bridget’s nemesis is searching the city for her. Her priest tells her she must leave the New York to escape or she won’t be safe outside the walls of The Sanctuary. She reluctantly agrees to become a mail-order bride.

Her priest arranges for her to be one of the supervisors on an orphan train going west. She takes her two youngest siblings with her, determined to keep them rather than let them be adopted. She feels the same way about two of the other orphans.

When I write, my books have a lot of dialogue and not so much narrative. In general, that’s what I like to read. Rachel Wesson uses a lot of narrative, but her writing is so compelling that she held my interest until I’d finished the book.

I highly recommend ORPHAN TRAIN ESCAPE to anyone who likes to read historical romance. There are two additional books in the series, ORPHAN TRAIN TRIALS and ORPHAN TRAIN CHRISTMAS. You can find the first on Amazon here.

ESCAPE TO TOWN FOR KENDRA MURDOCH

Thank you to those of you who bought my recently released WINTER BRIDE. For the rest of you, I’m posting another excerpt to (hopefully) tempt you into buying your copy. WINTER BRIDE is about Kendra Murdoch and Sheriff Butch Parrish.

When her sister dies, Kendra is left to raise her eight-year-old nephew Caleb and two nieces, ages two and six, Mittie and Abby. Kendra loves the children and wants to give them a loving and secure life. All the men in her life have been bullies and she refuses to put her fate in the hands of a man like that. At the same time, she dreams of the kind of man she could trust. Knowing her brother in law Gus beat her sister so badly that Glenna may die reinforces her desire to gain independence.

Sheriff Butch Parrish has been drifting through life since the death of his beloved wife, Annie. He’s protective of those in his care, and that includes Kendra and her charges. Here’s a scene when he rescues her from the isolated cabin where she lived with her sister and brother in law.

After eating, they decided to leave for town. They loaded their belongings on the mule. Caleb appeared to realize they wouldn’t be returning, and gathered all their toys and clothes. Not that there were many of either. 

Kendra packed her clothes and her sister’s. Let Gus get his own if he wasn’t in jail first. She hoped he’d be in prison for a long time, maybe hanged for stealing a horse from the livery.

“I guess there’s no way we can take Mama’s rocker, is there?” She looked sadly at the only remaining furniture from her and Glenna’s family.

He scrubbed a hand along his jaw. “We can’t overload Clemmy. What we can’t pack, I’ll come back for once you’re settled.”

“Why are we taking our stuff?” Mittie asked.

“We’re going to live in town now, angel. Do you remember all the children you saw in town at the Christmas party?”

The little girl’s eyes widened. “Will there be more toys?”

She laughed and shook her head. “Only at Christmas, but there’ll be playmates your age and others Caleb and Abby’s ages. I’m sure you’ll like living in Radford Crossing.”

Her nephew nodded. “And we can see Mama soon as we get there, can’t we?”

The sheriff came into the house. “That’s right. Everyone put on a coat and let Miss Murdoch and me bundle you up in a quilt before we set you on a horse.”

Using the best quilts, they wrapped each of the children for travel. She hated she’d be leaving as much as she was, but wanted to get to her sister as soon as possible. And she’d be relieved to get safely away from the isolation of the cabin and trail to town. The thought of Gus returning while they were here filled her with terror.

The sheriff would be an easy target even with Caleb behind him. Two additional men increased their security. Surely even Gus would hesitate to attack three armed men.

When they were ready to leave, Sheriff Parrish spoke quietly. “Sound travels in cold weather. We need to save all out talking until we get to town. Can you children be quiet that long?”

All three nodded. Each face was swathed in a scarf and knit caps pulled to their eyebrows. They were such good kids. No wonder she loved her nephew and nieces as if they were her own.

Sheriff Parrish set Caleb on his horse. “My deputies are going to ride with us, but they need to be ready to chase anyone who tries to stop us. You kids will ride with your aunt and me.”

Abby rode in front of Kendra. Mittie sat behind her and held on to her waist. Kendra asked the sheriff to tie Mittie to her so the little girl wouldn’t bounce off. Still, they couldn’t go fast or they’d be in danger of one of the children being hurt. Speed would increase the risk to the horses and mule as well.

Snow had a crust of ice on top with tall drifts. Thank heavens she hadn’t had to carry Abby and walk with the other two children. Holding the sleeping child in front of her while riding was tiring enough, especially since every muscle in her body clenched with fear. Would she have succeeded? Maybe, but there was as much chance they’d all have frozen part way there.

Even with two deputies beside them, Sheriff Parrish appeared to be on guard throughout their trek. He’d needed more time to recover but had insisted he could travel. At least there’d be a doctor to treat his wounds when they arrived. That is, if Gus Tucker didn’t bushwhack them on their way.

Their pace was slow but the depth of snow decreased as they descended from the high valley where the cabin was located and drew nearer to the settlement. Relief flooded her when she spotted buildings signaling the outskirts of town by early afternoon. Surely for now they were safe.

Ah, but we know they aren’t safe yet, don’t we? Kendra’s brother in law Gus is determined to have her then kill her. He wants to take his son with him, but cares nothing for his daughters. Gus is a sly and devious villain who won’t stop as long as he’s alive.

Here’s the Amazon link: http://amzn.com/B00VC9C31W It’s also at Apple, Kobo, and Nook.

Thanks for stopping by!

FINDING INSPIRATION

In only 18 days, I'll be releasing GABE KINCAID, Kincaids Book 4, at a Facebook Launch Party with author Geri Foster. We'll have prizes and fun from 5:00 pm until 10:00 pm CST on April 27th. You're invited, of course! You can sign up on the Facebook Events page for Bad Boys and Cowboys at http://on.fb.me/1iusLLc  Here's the perfect cover Kim Killion designed:

In the meantime, I want to remind you of my book THE MOST UNSUITABLE COURTSHIP, Kinciads Book 3. 

Readers often ask where authors receive their inspiration.  Author Bobbye Terry says she buys hers at a small factory in Ohio. ☺ Actually, it arises much closer to home—unless, of course, the author actually lives in a small town in Ohio.

I find inspiration all around me. An article in a magazine might spark an idea. A newspaper story might make me think how the tale would have been better if changes were made. Friends telling family stories might spark a “what if” moment.

One of the things that inspired the heroine of my latest release is a magazine story of Gruene, which is pronounced by its residents as if it were spelled Green. That area of the Texas Hill Country has numerous communities settled by German immigrants. Many families still speak German at home. It’s a lovely part of Texas that my family enjoys visiting over and over. 

When thinking of a heroine for Storm Kincaid, I wanted one unlike any I had written about in previous books. That’s a problem for authors who have multiple books already released. Each hero and heroine must be strong and independent, but at the same time be different from any other couple. Everything must be new and fresh, yet fit within the genre or genres and in the voice and story style the author’s readers expect. You’re correct—that is hard! In fact, for me that’s one of the hardest parts of writing.  

THE MOST UNSUITABLE COURTSHIP is book three in my Kincaid series. In the first two in the series, THE MOST UNSUITABLE WIFE and THE MOST UNSUITABLE HUSBAND, Pearl and Sarah were the heroines. Book three centers around their half-brother, Storm, and his quest for justice.  Here is the blurb:

Storm Kincaid wants justice; Rena Dmitriev wants vengeance.

When Storm’s best friend and the friend’s wife are murdered, Storm secures a temporary appointment as Federal Marshal so he can capture the killers. He follows them to twenty one year old Rena’s home, which is in flames when he arrives. She has survived by following her elderly husband’s strict instructions and watched in hiding while the men murdered him.  Storm intends to take her to the nearest town where she will be safe. She can identify the men who killed the person who had been her husband in name only and like a grandfather to her, and she vows to kill at least one of them. Whether or not Storm allows her to accompany him, she assures him she will go after the murderers.  She is the only person alive who can identify the evil foursome whose policy has been to leave no witnesses. Storm agrees to take her with him. She’ll be safer with him to protect her than she would riding alone.

As a powerful and passionate love blossoms, they unite to rescue three orphaned children, fight the elements, and encounter the killers. Will their love be enough to protect them?

THE MOST UNSUITABLE COURTSHIP Excerpt:

She emerged from the brush straightening her trousers and shoving her pistol back into her waistband. “Where do you think those men are going?”

“Indian Territory. They’ll steal all they can before they reach the Red River and leave no survivors to identify them. They’re selling off the stolen stock along the way, so that will slow them some.” He wondered if she knew how to use the gun.

“But I saw their faces.”

He sent her what he hoped was a frightening stare. “If they knew that, you’d be dead for sure.”

She shivered, but glared at him. “Do not think to frighten me. I will do everything I can to kill these men and reclaim my gold and my mother’s locket. It is not that I care about the jewellery that once belonged to Abram’s wife. But to him, it meant a great deal, and I want it because he gave it to me.”

Storm wanted to shake her. Not that he hadn’t lived all his life with stubborn women. At least his oldest sister Pearl made sense. He’d worried about shy Sarah, especially when she’d appeared head over heels with a con man. Now that Sarah and Nate were married, she had life figured out. Nate had surprised everyone, even himself. Storm suppressed a smile and worked up his anger again at his traveling companion.

“We can be in Llano by nightfall. We’ll get a couple of rooms there and you can rest.”

She shot him a suspicious glare. “You think to abandon me in that town. If we stay somewhere, we will be in the same room so I can watch you.”

Shocked, Storm wondered what he could do with this woman. “We wouldn’t be allowed to stay in a decent hotel. You want to sleep over a saloon? Besides that, folks will be shocked when they see you in those trousers. You want people to think you’re a fallen woman?”

With her chin raised, she placed her hands on her hips. “I am a good woman. You can tell them we are married and I wear britches to ride more easily.” She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers. “I have a wedding band, see?”

He raised his hands and backed up a step. “Oh, no. I’m not even pretending to be married. If I were ready to marry, which I’m not, I’d pick a woman who knew when to let a man do his job.”

“Ha, and when I recover my dowry, I will marry a man who knows a woman can do as much as a man.”

He swept a formal bow. “And when you marry, will you be wearing the lovely gown you now wear?”

She appeared angry enough to use that Colt on him. “You are wrong to…to talk so. I do not have the English words to tell you what I think, but do not try to leave me behind. If you do, I will go after the men alone.”

Disgusted, Storm stomped over and retrieved the horses. “Then let’s go.”

They rode into Llano in late afternoon. Since they arrived mid week, the town appeared peaceful and quiet. Storm spotted a hotel by the livery he remembered.

“If you’re determined to stick to me like glue, let’s stable the horses.”

At the stable, she staggered when she dismounted and he thought she might fall. He grabbed her arms. “Steady. You’re not used to riding so long.”

“Ja, my legs do not work so well. Do not worry, I will be fine in a minute.”

She remained quiet while he dealt with the hostler and insured his rifle and saddle would be safe. He threw his saddlebags over his shoulder and retrieved the two pillowcases and box he’d tied to the saddle pommel. They ambled the block toward the hotel.

 He indicated a mercantile. “Just what we need. After we get our room, let’s head for that store before it closes. You probably need to replace a few things that burned.” When she glared at him. “I’ll give you the money, all right? I don’t want folks thinking my wife runs around in men’s clothes. If anyone gets nosy, tell them you lost your bag crossing a river.”

She sniffed and sashayed as if she wore a ball gown instead of ill-fitting men’s trousers. “I will keep track and repay you when I kill those men.”

THE MOST UNSUITABLE COURTSHIP buy links are:

Amazon for print and e-book:

http://www.amazon.com/Most-Unsuitable-Courtship-Kincaids-ebook/dp/B00G5YXI6I/ref=sr_1_4?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1384191747&sr=1-4&keywords=caroline+clemmons

Barnes and Noble Nook

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-most-unsuitable-courtship-caroline-clemmons/1117264325?ean=2940045350990

 Thanks for stopping by!

A READING SUGGESTION IN PRINT AND E-BOOK

Do you have or want an E-reader, or are you a die hard paper fan? Whichever you answer, let me tell you about one of my books available in both print from Amazon and and as a download from Amazon and other online sources. I hope you’ll read and enjoy this romance.

I am currently writing the third of the Kincaid series, THE MOST UNSUITABLE COURTSHIP and will release it in October. Right now, the Kincaid series consists of THE MOST UNSUITABLE WIFE (book one) and THE MOST UNSUITABLE HUSBAND (book two). Today, I want to tell you about the latter.

When I was thinking about the plot and naming characters, I wondered what to call this hero. I saw him clearly in my mind as a bit of a rascal, or thought he was, but changing throughout the book. Talk about character arc! I was sitting in church one Sunday and the minister mentioned that Bartholomew and Nathaniel were the same person, but his name changed to show his life’s change when he became a Christian. Aha! Nathaniel Batholomew would be my hero’s name. But he uses a long string of aliases, one of which is Nate Barton, and that’s how he introduces himself to the heroine, Sarah Kincaid.

Satah Kincaid

Sarah is the younger sister of the heroine in THE MOST UNSUITABLE WIFE. These are stand-alone books (authors always say that) but you will enjoy them more if you read them in order. Sarah is a shy young woman very conscious of appearances and has gone from Texas to St. Louis to her dying mother. Due to her unfortunate childhood, she always acts with propriety to overcome her origin. She needed a strong character arc too. What could possibly cause this proper young schoolteacher to interact with a man she suspects is up to no good? Nothing short of orphans who must be rescued from an evil man following them could effect the change. One snowy day in Memphis, Tennessee, Sarah finds three cold youngsters, one of whom is seriously ill. She enlists Nate to help her get the youngsters safely to her home. She also hires a lovely Irish woman, Fiona, to act as her companion for the rest of the trip.

Book three is Sarah’s brother Storm. I also plan a novella for Nate’s friend Michael “Monk” and Fiona’s daughter. I love this family and the characters surrounding it, so you can be certain I’ll be publishing more books about the Kincaid family and friends.

In the meantime, here’s an excerpt from THE MOST UNSUITABLE HUSBAND:

That man in black--he'd introduced himself as Nathaniel Barton--had been at the cemetery. He was always around on the boat, too, and now he was here in their hotel in Memphis. He trailed behind her as if he hadn't a care in the world. Surely it was coincidence. Lots of people traveled from St. Louis to Memphis every day.

The porter stopped in front of a room and opened the door. He stood back for her to enter, but not before she saw Mr. Barton at the next door. He even glanced her way and smiled as he nodded his head in greeting.

My stars, he's staying in the very next room to mine.

What kind of hotel would allow a single man on the same floor as a single woman? She fought down panic as she dealt with the porter, then locked the door behind him and slid the bolt. Alone in her room, her imagination ran its course as she paced. Had she strayed into a den of iniquity?

No, that couldn't be. Mrs. Welborn assured her this was a family hotel suitable for a young woman. After all, the Welborns registered here, too. How did Mr. Barton come to be in the very room next to her? It wasn't proper. What would people think? What would they say?

She caught herself. The Welborns were the only people here she knew, and she hardly cared what they thought other than their reports back to the Vermillions and Aunt Lily. Even they could hardly blame her for the hotel's room assignments.

This Mr. Barton could not mean her harm. There'd been ample opportunity on the paddle wheeler had he intended to hurt her. They'd never had a conversation on a personal level. His comments had centered on the trip and the weather, not a hint of anything improper and always with others nearby. Perhaps his constant presence was a coincidence. Just the same, he made her nervous. She felt like a rabbit waiting for the wolf to pounce whenever Mr. Barton was near.

In the midst of her concern, she admitted his presence offered reassurance to her that she was protected from others. Surely he would rush to her aid if she needed assistance. Her instincts proved right regarding Mr. Welborn. Perhaps she should rely on intuition in this instance. She wished she were more decisive, not a victim of warring emotions.

She raised her skirt and checked the little double-shot derringer given her by her brother, Storm. Best to be prepared. The little gun still rested securely in its garter holster on her thigh. Storm had insisted she practice until she was a fair shot. Would she have the courage to use the weapon against a human? She doubted it, but its weight reassured her.

Sarah spied the door connecting her room with the one in which Mr. Barton resided. Rushing to check the lock, she stopped. She must not let him know she suspected him of following her. Very slowly she turned the knob of the connecting door. Locked. She released a heavy sigh.

Curiosity nudged her. Kneeling, she peered through the keyhole. The opening framed him as he pulled a fresh shirt from an open valise on the bed. Shucking his jacket and waistcoat, he took a pistol from his waistband and placed it on the bed beside the satchel. He unbuttoned his shirt.

She knew she should move away but couldn't. Oh, my stars!  He might dress like a riverboat dandy, but this gorgeous man was no weakling. Trouser fabric pulled taut against trim hip muscles when he turned and bent over the things on the bed.

Her mouth went dry as a Texas dust storm. She watched him turn back to face her. He removed his shirt and tossed it behind him on the bed. Then she saw the bandage across his shoulder and another at his waist. She wondered which side of the law he was on when he got those, but thought she knew. The wrong side, of course.

He picked up a fresh shirt and she caught the ripple of muscles across his chest as he slipped the shirt on. His movements were swift and powerful, not the sluggish ambling she had witnessed in public.

Occasionally in summer she had caught glimpses of her brother, her brother-in-law, and the hands at the ranch with their shirts off. Unlike their tanned torsos, Mr. Barton's pale skin made her fingers tingle to touch the brown chest hair that converged in a vee at his belt. She wondered how far below his waist the pelt descended. A pool of warmth gathered at the base of her stomach.

My stars, what disgraceful thoughts.

Where did they come from? They weren’t proper. No, not at all suitable. Being away from home must be having a poor effect on her.

Never before had such scandalous ideas entered her head about any man. She didn’t have these thoughts about Peter Dorfmeyer, and everyone expected her to marry Peter. Mr. Barton was the most attractive man she’d ever seen, but she must get her wayward thoughts under control.

Buttoning his shirt, Mr. Barton stepped from her view. When he returned and glared at the keyhole, she froze. Surely he couldn't know she watched him. She sank further to the floor and sat with her back against the door.

Sarah pressed her hands to heated cheeks, shocked at her own behavior. She was no better than a window peeper. What on earth had come over her?

A sudden thought assailed her. What if he planned to look through the keyhole as she had? Taking a hanky from her cuff, she draped it over the doorknob so it hung across the tiny opening. No, that wouldn’t do. It kept sliding off. She rose and opened her traveling bag and took out a shirtwaist. Hanging it on the knob, she stepped back. Perfect. It looked as if she used the handle for a hook.

She crossed to the vanity. Not taking time to change from her traveling suit into a dress, she contented herself with pushing stray hair back into her chignon and grabbing her shawl. With any luck, she could purchase her train ticket while her neighbor had his dinner.

Sarah walked briskly to the train station. A line greeted her at the ticket window. Oh, well, she loved watching people, so she wouldn't mind the wait. Taking her place in the row, she surveyed the other prospective passengers wandering to and fro. She studied the clothes of other women, compared them to her own black clothing. In her head she made up stories of who they were and where they might be headed.

A young boy bumped with a wham into the man in front of her. The child's hand darted into the man's pocket and out with a flash and secured the lifted wallet under his shirt. Probably no more than seven or eight, the lad wore the dirtiest clothes Sarah had ever seen. His hair might have been blond at one time, but it and his skin had gone a long time without touching soap and water.

"Oh, excuse me, sir." The boy's large blue eyes were the picture of innocence when he gazed up at the man.

Sarah gasped. What should she do? She couldn't bring herself to cause a scene by screaming, but neither could she stand by and let the child rob this man.

"Steady, you little ragamuffin.” The victim placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Slow down and see you're more careful next time.”

"Yes, sir, sorry. I will, sir.” The boy moved swiftly away into the crowd.

Sarah took off after the little thief. He looked over his shoulder and she motioned to him. His eyes widened in alarm and he ran. She gathered her skirts and rushed after him, weaving around groups of people.

When she had almost caught up with the light-fingered boy, she thudded against a solid wall of chest.

Mr. Barton grunted and clutched Sarah's shoulders, then dropped his hands and made a slight bow. "Why, I believe it's Miss Kincaid, is it not? Are you in some sort of distress?"

"No, it was nothing.” She peered over his shoulder but the thief was nowhere in sight. "I thought I saw someone I knew, but I was mistaken.” She felt her cheeks flush again with guilt. Their collision must have jarred his injured chest, but she couldn't ask him about it. How could she explain that knowledge?

"Your traveling companions--Welwoods or Welworths--are they with you?"

"No. The Welborns were tired and planned to have dinner sent to their room.” She thanked heavens for that. Eating with the odious Mr. Welborn soured her stomach. But now this man who, for all appearances, followed her everywhere had neatly trapped her. A shiver of apprehension skittered down her spine, but she stood mesmerized by his tawny eyes.

As if he sensed her fear, he offered a crooked smile and proffered his` arm. "May I escort you back to the hotel?"

"I was..." she stopped. Her nerves jangled with alarm, but she strove to appear calm. She preferred buying her ticket in private. If he hadn't yet learned where she headed, she didn't want him to know her exact destination. "That would be very kind, um, Mr. Barton.”

"Bit cool this evening, isn't it?"

My stars, didn't the man ever talk about anything but the weather? Maybe he was one of those gorgeous physical specimens with the brain of a rock.

She sighed and answered, "Yes, there's a chill in the air. I suppose we're in for more winter.”

What should she do? Panic turned her stomach in knots. She should send him on his way, but didn't know what to say or do. Hating herself for her timidity, she once more flowed with the easiest course and allowed herself to be escorted back to the hotel.

Buy links for THE MOST UNSUITABLE HUSBAND are:

Amazon for print and e-book

http://www.amazon.com/MOST-UNSUITABLE-HUSBAND-Kincaids-ebook/dp/B004M8T1D8/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1323636066&sr=1-1

Smashwords for e-books 

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/37792?ref=CarolineClemmons

Also available for Nook, Kobo, and iTunes.

Reviews for THE MOST UNSUITABLE HUSBAND include a 4 1/2 star Top Pick from Romantic Times Magazine. This book was also a finalist in the National Readers Choice competition but came in a fraction behind the winner. But it’s impossible to please everyone. Two people have left very mean-spirited reviews on Amazon. If you read this book and enjoyed it, would you please leave a kind review on Amazon?

Thanks for stopping by!

SANTA'S MAKING A LIST AND CHECKING IT TWICE

What’s on your Christmas list? Do you have or want an E-reader, or are you a die hard paper fan? Whichever you answer, I hope you have books on your list to give and as hints to receive. Let me tell you about one of my books I hope you’ll read and enjoy.


So far, the Kincaid series consists of THE MOST UNSUITABLE WIFE and THE MOST UNSUITABLE HUSBAND. Today, I want to tell you about the latter.

When I was thinking about the plot and naming characters, I wondered what to call this hero. He was a bit of a rascal, or thought he was, but he changes throughout the book. Talk about character arc! I was sitting in church one Sunday and the minister mentioned that Bartholomew and Nathaniel were the same person, but his name changed to show his life’s change when he became a Christian. Aha! Nathaniel Batholomew would be my hero’s name. But he uses a long string of aliases, one of which is Nate Barton, and that’s how he introduces himself to the heroine, Sarah Kincaid.

Sarah is the younger half-sister of the heroine in THE MOST UNSUITABLE WIFE. These are stand-alone books (authors always say that) but you will enjoy them far more if you read them in order. Sarah is a shy young woman very conscious of appearances and is going back to Texas from St. Louis and her mother's funeral. Due to her unfortunate childhood, she always acts with propriety. She needed a strong character arc too. What could possibly cause this proper young schoolteacher to interact with a man she suspects is up to no good? Nothing short of orphans who must be rescued from an evil man following them could effect the change. One snowy day in Memphis, Tennessee, Sarah finds three cold youngsters, one of whom is seriously ill. She enlists Nate to help her get the youngsters safely to her home. She also hires a lovely Irish woman, Fiona, to act as her companion for the rest of the trip.


Many readers have written to ask when the next Kincaid book will be published. In the future, book three is planned for Sarah’s brother Storm. I also plan a novella for Nate’s friend Michael “Monk” and Fiona’s daughter.  I love this family and the characters surrounding it, so you can be certain I’ll be publishing more books about the Kincaid family and friends in the near future!

Cover design by my Hero husband,
who is certain everyone knows
the Jack is also called the Knave
and that a knave is a rogue

Here’s an excerpt from THE MOST UNSUITABLE HUSBAND:

That man in black--he'd introduced himself as Nathaniel Barton--had been at the cemetery. He was always around on the boat, too, and now he was here in their hotel in Memphis. He trailed behind her as if he hadn't a care in the world. Surely it was coincidence. Lots of people traveled from St. Louis to Memphis every day.


The porter stopped in front of a room and opened the door. He stood back for her to enter, but not before she saw Mr. Barton at the next door. He even glanced her way and smiled as he nodded his head in greeting.


My stars, he's staying in the very next room to mine.


What kind of hotel would allow a single man on the same floor as a single woman? She fought down panic as she dealt with the porter, then locked the door behind him and slid the bolt. Alone in her room, her imagination ran its course as she paced. Had she strayed into a den of iniquity?


No, that couldn't be. Mrs. Welborn assured her this was a family hotel suitable for a young woman. After all, the Welborns registered here, too. How did Mr. Barton come to be in the very room next to her? It wasn't proper. What would people think? What would they say?


She caught herself. The Welborns were the only people here she knew, and she hardly cared what they thought other than their reports back to the Vermillions and Aunt Lily. Even they could hardly blame her for the hotel's room assignments.


This Mr. Barton could not mean her harm. There'd been ample opportunity on the paddle wheeler had he intended to hurt her. They'd never had a conversation on a personal level. His comments had centered on the trip and the weather, not a hint of anything improper and always with others nearby. Perhaps his constant presence was a coincidence. Just the same, he made her nervous. She felt like a rabbit waiting for the wolf to pounce whenever Mr. Barton was near.


In the midst of her concern, she admitted his presence offered reassurance to her that she was protected from others. Surely he would rush to her aid if she needed assistance. Her instincts proved right regarding Mr. Welborn. Perhaps she should rely on intuition in this instance. She wished she were more decisive, not a victim of warring emotions.


She raised her skirt and checked the little double-shot derringer given her by her brother, Storm. Best to be prepared. The little gun still rested securely in its garter holster on her thigh. Storm had insisted she practice until she was a fair shot. Would she have the courage to use the weapon against a human? She doubted it, but its weight reassured her.


Sarah spied the door connecting her room with the one in which Mr. Barton resided. Rushing to check the lock, she stopped. She must not let him know she suspected him of following her. Very slowly she turned the knob of the connecting door. Locked. She released a heavy sigh.


Curiosity nudged her. Kneeling, she peered through the keyhole. The opening framed him as he pulled a fresh shirt from an open valise on the bed. Shucking his jacket and waistcoat, he took a pistol from his waistband and placed it on the bed beside the satchel. He unbuttoned his shirt.


She knew she should move away but couldn't. Oh, my stars! He might dress like a riverboat dandy, but this gorgeous man was no weakling. Trouser fabric pulled taut against trim hip muscles when he turned and bent over the things on the bed.


Her mouth went dry as a Texas dust storm. She watched him turn back to face her. He removed his shirt and tossed it behind him on the bed. Then she saw the bandage across his shoulder and another at his waist. She wondered which side of the law he was on when he got those, but thought she knew. The wrong side, of course.


He picked up a fresh shirt and she caught the ripple of muscles across his chest as he slipped the shirt on. His movements were swift and powerful, not the sluggish ambling she had witnessed in public.


Occasionally in summer she had caught glimpses of her brother, her brother-in-law, and the hands at the ranch with their shirts off. Unlike their tanned torsos, Mr. Barton's pale skin made her fingers tingle to touch the brown chest hair that converged in a vee at his belt. She wondered how far below his waist the pelt descended. A pool of warmth gathered at the base of her stomach.


My stars, what disgraceful thoughts.


Where did they come from? They weren’t proper. No, not at all suitable. Being away from home must be having a poor effect on her.


Never before had such scandalous ideas entered her head about any man. She didn’t have these thoughts about Peter Dorfmeyer, and everyone expected her to marry Peter. Mr. Barton was the most attractive man she’d ever seen, but she must get her wayward thoughts under control.


Buttoning his shirt, Mr. Barton stepped from her view. When he returned and glared at the keyhole, she froze. Surely he couldn't know she watched him. She sank further to the floor and sat with her back against the door.


Sarah pressed her hands to heated cheeks, shocked at her own behavior. She was no better than a window peeper. What on earth had come over her?


A sudden thought assailed her. What if he planned to look through the keyhole as she had? Taking a hanky from her cuff, she draped it over the doorknob so it hung across the tiny opening. No, that wouldn’t do. It kept sliding off. She rose and opened her traveling bag and took out a shirtwaist. Hanging it on the knob, she stepped back. Perfect. It looked as if she used the handle for a hook.


She crossed to the vanity. Not taking time to change from her traveling suit into a dress, she contented herself with pushing stray hair back into her chignon and grabbing her shawl. With any luck, she could purchase her train ticket while her neighbor had his dinner.


Sarah walked briskly to the train station. A line greeted her at the ticket window. Oh, well, she loved watching people, so she wouldn't mind the wait. Taking her place in the row, she surveyed the other prospective passengers wandering to and fro. She studied the clothes of other women, compared them to her own black clothing. In her head she made up stories of who they were and where they might be headed.


A young boy bumped with a wham into the man in front of her. The child's hand darted into the man's pocket and out with a flash and secured the lifted wallet under his shirt. Probably no more than seven or eight, the lad wore the dirtiest clothes Sarah had ever seen. His hair might have been blond at one time, but it and his skin had gone a long time without touching soap and water.


"Oh, excuse me, sir." The boy's large blue eyes were the picture of innocence when he gazed up at the man.


Sarah gasped. What should she do? She couldn't bring herself to cause a scene by screaming, but neither could she stand by and let the child rob this man.


"Steady, you little ragamuffin.” The victim placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Slow down and see you're more careful next time.”


"Yes, sir, sorry. I will, sir.” The boy moved swiftly away into the crowd.


Sarah took off after the little thief. He looked over his shoulder and she motioned to him. His eyes widened in alarm and he ran. She gathered her skirts and rushed after him, weaving around groups of people.


When she had almost caught up with the light-fingered boy, she thudded against a solid wall of chest.


Mr. Barton grunted and clutched Sarah's shoulders, then dropped his hands and made a slight bow. "Why, I believe it's Miss Kincaid, is it not? Are you in some sort of distress?"


"No, it was nothing.” She peered over his shoulder but the thief was nowhere in sight. "I thought I saw someone I knew, but I was mistaken.” She felt her cheeks flush again with guilt. Their collision must have jarred his injured chest, but she couldn't ask him about it. How could she explain that knowledge?


"Your traveling companions--Welwoods or Welworths--are they with you?"


"No. The Welborns were tired and planned to have dinner sent to their room.” She thanked heavens for that. Eating with the odious Mr. Welborn soured her stomach. But now this man who, for all appearances, followed her everywhere had neatly trapped her. A shiver of apprehension skittered down her spine, but she stood mesmerized by his tawny eyes.


As if he sensed her fear, he offered a crooked smile and proffered his` arm. "May I escort you back to the hotel?"


"I was..." she stopped. Her nerves jangled with alarm, but she strove to appear calm. She preferred buying her ticket in private. If he hadn't yet learned where she headed, she didn't want him to know her exact destination. "That would be very kind, um, Mr. Barton.”


"Bit cool this evening, isn't it?"


My stars, didn't the man ever talk about anything but the weather? Maybe he was one of those gorgeous physical specimens with the brain of a rock.


She sighed and answered, "Yes, there's a chill in the air. I suppose we're in for more winter.”


What should she do? Panic turned her stomach in knots. She should send him on his way, but didn't know what to say or do. Hating herself for her timidity, she once more flowed with the easiest course and allowed herself to be escorted back to the hotel.


Buy links for THE MOST UNSUITABLE HUSBAND are:

Amazon


http://www.amazon.com/MOST-UNSUITABLE-HUSBAND-Kincaids-ebook/dp/B004M8T1D8/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1323636066&sr=1-1

Smashwords
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/37792?ref=CarolineClemmons


Reviews for THE MOST UNSUITABLE HUSBAND include a 4 1/2 star Top Pick from Romantic Times Magazine. This book was also a finalist in the National Readers Choice competition but came in a fraction behind the winner. But it’s impossible to please everyone. Two people have left very mean-spirited reviews on Amazon. If you read this book and enjoy it, would you please leave a review on Amazon?

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