Glory: Prarie Roses Collection Four by Marisa Masterson

Glory: Prarie Roses Collection Four 

by Marisa Masterson

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09RCV3HLB

Book Blurb:

Pikes Peak Or Bust! Glory’s father catches a fever—gold fever.
While it’s late in the season to start out, a wagon train forms to head to Colorado. She has no choice but to go with her father, leaving in late July.
The trip will be only 6oo miles. Easily done before snow falls. What could go wrong?
Glory will learn the answer to that on the trail. An answer that leads to a rushed marriage at the wrong time with a man who's simply Heaven sent.

Excerpt:

Ollie Severson rushed into the light then. He held up his large hands. “She came to the prayer meetin’ along with most of the wagon train. Weren’t no hanky-panky there.” 

“He’s sniffin’ out my girl. Brung her the best part of the deer, he did.” Arnie growled the words. His accusations had Glory’s face flushing. From the burn, she knew her cheeks glowed red. As much as she wanted to glance at Lee, shame kept her eyes downward. 

“Let ‘em marry.” 

Glory didn’t recognize the voice, so she lifted her gaze toward the speaker. The older man resembled Lee. He stood slightly behind the scout, rubbing a hand over his jaw in a thoughtful manner. “Best thing for both of ‘em is to marry. Stop the temptation.” 

Her gaze flitted briefly to Lee. His face seemed closed, hiding away every emotion except cold determination. “Marry her to me or vow never to harm her again.” 

Severson’s voice carried regret. “He’s drunk, son. No promise a drunk makes’ll be kept when he’s sober.” 

Arnie Simms shook the bottle at the trespassers who interrupted his drinking. “Can’t a man have a little peace? Go away!” 

Glory knew he’d already forgotten his earlier threat. “I’m fine. I’ll climb up into the wagon and get ready to sleep.” 

Lee protested. She ignored him to move past the men. Hating to do it in front of them, she hiked her skirt up to her calves and started to climb over the tailgate. Strong arms suddenly circled her waist and lifted her into the wagon. 

Turning to thank the man, her face hovered close to Lee’s. “I, uh, thank you.” 

“I meant it, you know. Tonight, tomorrow, or next month, I’ve got the feelin’ we’re gonna be married.” 

Author Bio:

I rarely wrote as a child growing up on a farm in Wisconsin. I gambled through the woods and created adventures in my mind that I acted out. I played house endlessly with my dolls. Until I was a teen, I rarely even read. I simply could not finish a book unless it was read out loud.  

During my teen years, I forced my mind to focus and learn how to finish the romance novels which I’d discovered. I spent hours laying across my bed reading after that. Still, reading novels in school continued to be nothing more than drudgery. 

Imagine this—I became an English teacher and reading specialist! I wanted to help others discover joy through reading, a thing that came so hard for me.  

It wasn’t until I became disabled that I turned to writing. As an adult, I wanted to rediscover the joy of pretending and creating imaginary scenes like I’d so often done as a child.  

Now, thirty-six books later, I can say that writing has given me a new connection with the world through the many readers I meet through Facebook. Thankfully, they enjoy my imaginary worlds as much as I do. 

A Room In Blake's Folly by J. Arlene Culiner

 

 

Don't forget to enter the giveaway at the bottom of the post.

A Room in Blake's Folly

by J. Arlene Culiner

Genre: Western Historical & Contemporary Romance Saga  

If only the walls could speak…
In one hundred and fifty years, Blake’s Folly, a silver boomtown notorious for its brothels, scarlet ladies, silver barons, speakeasies, and divorce ranches, has become a semi-ghost town. Although the old Mizpah Saloon is still in business, its upper floor is sheathed in dust. But in a room at a long corridor's end, an adventurer, a beautiful dance girl, and a rejected wife were once caught in a love triangle, and their secret has touched three generations.

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“You a widow?”

“No.” She could hear the tightness in her voice and feel the tension in her shoulders.

His eyes glinted. “A runaway wife.”

“Not that either.” Did she have to say more? She didn’t. But since people were bound to be asking that same question over and over, she might as well get used to it, even though the answer was only partially true. Even though it could never express what her life had been like up until now. “I left of my own accord, but with my husband’s full agreement. He’ll be looking into getting a divorce.”

“And your children?”

Ah, there it was. The big question, the one thing everyone would be curious about. “No children. I’ve never had any.”

He said nothing. Had he heard the note of anger in her voice? She’d done her best to sound neutral, but neutrality wasn’t an easy note to hit. How vividly she remembered the first time she’d caught sight of her future husband, Sam Graham, waiting with a little knot of men by a shanty train station in the middle of nowhere. He and the others had been eager to grab a sight of their brides-to-be, women lured west by the promise of marriage, land, and a home. How had the other women fared? Had they been as discouraged as she at the sight of the vast lonely wasteland, the emptiness, the bleached-out colors, and the coarse men who would be their lifetime partners? Men honed by the elements, a hard life. And rough alcohol.

Westley Cranston stood, walked in her direction—no, walk wasn’t the word she could use. He sauntered, a slow, elegant saunter. A man sure of himself, of his power to seduce. Yes, that was why she’d felt so wary yesterday. He stopped when he was standing beside her. Smiled. No, there was nothing seductive in his smile. She’d been wrong. What had she been imagining? That she was still the young attractive woman she’d been years ago? What a fool she was.

He touched the top of the piano with a gesture that was almost a caress. “Don’t worry. You’ll do well. The boys you’ll be playing with are good musicians, nice guys, too. They play at all the dances in town, and they’ll teach you the sort of pieces folks out here are used to hearing.”

“Thank you.”

His eyebrows rose. “For what?”

“For being so kind.”

“Kind?” He guffawed. “It’s not kindness. I’m fighting for survival. High time we got a good piano player in this place. Bob, before he let that stray bullet hit him, knew how to slap at the keys, all right, but he didn’t know the first thing about keeping time. I’ll bet pretty well all the customers were happy to see him taken out of the running.” Grinning, he moved away in that casual easy way of his, headed toward the front

door. Then stopped, looked back, his eyes twinkling. “But they couldn’t do that, not legally, anyway. One of the rules here in town forbids shooting pistols in a barroom.”

She grinned back at him. “Sounds like a pretty good rule to me. And what are the other rules, if you don’t mind me asking. If there are any others, that is…”

“Sure there are. Need plenty of rules in boomtowns, especially after payday. The other ones are, you can’t insult a woman, you can’t ride a pony or horse on the wooden sidewalks, and you can’t ride them inside this establishment or any other business in town.” He was chuckling again when he turned the lock, stepped out into the street, and disappeared.

Hattie remained seated at the piano. Her anguish had totally vanished. Amazing, how he had put her at ease. He hadn’t judged her, hadn’t looked at her with disgust when she’d told him some of her story, hadn’t condemned her for feeling unsure about her piano playing. She wondered why she’d felt so mistrustful. He had behaved like a perfect gentleman—and a friend.

Then another thought struck her. What had he been doing here in the Mizpah so early in the morning? Had he slept here? Obviously he had. Hadn’t he just let himself out? And that meant he had probably spent the night with one of the ladies upstairs. That he was a client.

Disappointment washed over her. She couldn’t condemn him—men had needs, desires. Why was she so saddened by the thought?

Writer, storyteller, photographer, and social critical artist, J. Arlene Culiner, was born in New York and raised in Toronto. She has crossed much of Europe on foot, has lived in a Hungarian mud house, a Bavarian castle, a Turkish cave dwelling, on a Dutch canal, and in a haunted house on the English moors. She now resides in a 400-year-old former inn in a French village of no interest and, much to local dismay, protects all creatures, especially spiders and snakes. She particularly enjoys incorporating into short stories, mysteries, narrative non-fiction, and romances, her experiences in out-of-the-way communities, and her conversations with strange characters.

Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

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LONE WARRIOR

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Bobbi Smith will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

 

Taken captive in a Comanche raid, terrified Marissa Williams awaits her fate alone in a tipi. Wind Ryder enters his tipi to find the chief’s gift of the blond beauty. Once a captive himself, Wind Ryder understands her fear. How can he protect his terrified prisoner from the other men in the village who see her as nothing more than an object for their pleasure?

Excerpt

As the villagers gathered to watch Wind Ryder break the wild stallion, Marissa knew this was her only chance to escape. It would be dangerous, but she had to try. She moved to the back of the crowd without drawing attention to herself. Her heart beat wildly as she imagined herself free from the Comanche at last.

Wind Ryder smiled confidently. He reached down and patted the proud horse’s lathered neck as cheers arose from those watching. Dismounting, he handed the reins to another warrior and went to speak with his father and Black Eagle. He looked around as they spoke and realized Shining Spirit was gone. Knowing how badly she wanted to escape, he went to look for her without a word to the other men.

Marissa tried not to get too excited as she stayed along the bank of the stream where the foliage was the heaviest. The terrain grew rockier, and she was glad. It made her trail harder to follow. She rushed on, thinking only of being reunited with her family.

And then the fierce warrior Bear Claw appeared before her. She tried to get away, but he grabbed her and brutally threw her to the ground.

“My father should never have given you to Wind Ryder,” he snarled, groping her.

Marissa fought as violently as she could to escape. This was her greatest terror. Thoughts of Wind Ryder came to her. Her warrior hadn’t abused her. She desperately searched the ground beside her and grabbed a rock, swinging it at him. Her blow caught him alongside his head and he viciously hit her.

“You will pay for that!”

Wind Ryder found her tracks near the stream and realized there was another set of tracks covering hers—tracks that belonged to a man. The realization that he was worried about her startled him. Just the thought that someone might harm her infuriated him. A vision of his golden captive played in his mind.

The sound of a distant cry came to him and he charged forward. The scene he came upon put him in a mindless rage. Wind Ryder threw himself at Bear Claw and knocked him away from Shining Spirit.

“She is mine! You do not take what is mine!”

After working as a department manager for Famous-Barr, and briefly as a clerk at a bookstore, Bobbi Smith gave up on career security and began writing. She sold her first book to Zebra in 1982.

Since then, Bobbi has written over 40 books and 6 novellas. To date, there are more than five million copies of her novels in print. She has been awarded the prestigious Romantic Times Storyteller Award and two Career Achievement Awards. Her books have appeared on the New York Times Best Seller List, the USA Today Best Seller List and the Wal-Mart Best Seller List.

The rights to Ms. Smith’s books have been sold to China, France, Germany, India, Israel, Russia and Sweden. Bobbi has also written two faith-based contemporary novels – Haven and Miracles – using the pseudonym Julie Marshall.

Website: http://www.Bobbismithauthor.com
Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/Lone-Warrior-Bobbi-Smith/dp/1477835091

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MEET THE CHARACTERS - ALICE PRICE

Mary Alice Price, heroine of
HIGH STAKES BRIDE

What better post for Labor Day than that of a woman who has labored selflessly for many years? Pictured above (purchased from iStock and Maritja Savic/Serpentina) Mary Alice Price, heroine of HIGH STAKES BRIDE. Yes, I know she's not a real woman except in my head, but she's one of my favorite characters ever. She's sort of klutzy, doesn't realize how pretty and talented she is, but is loyal and steadfast and compassionate.

Alice is a beautiful young woman of her twenties who has been isolated on her stepfather's North Central Texas ranch for over twenty years. Only once during that time has she been off the ranch, and that was twelve years earlier when she and her stepfather took her mom to the doctor. They learned her poor mother had consumption, were told how to care for her, and went home. When her mother was in her last stages of life, Alice's stepfather learned he had stomach cancer.

Alice had spent years nursing her mother, keeping house and cooking for her mother, stepfather, and two stepbrothers. After her mother's passing, Alice remained at the ranch nursing her stepfather. Not that she minded caring for her family, but her stepbrothers grew harder to control as her stepfather weakened. He was able to conceal exactly how frail he'd become from his worthless sons, but Alice heard them promise her to a horrid man in exchange for a high stakes poker gambling debt, payable when their father died.

Her stepfather heard, too, and helped Alice plot her escape.But when a woman has spent her life on one small ranch in the wooded hills of the Palo Pinto Mountains, how can she navigate her way to freedom? In Alice's case, one disaster after another plagues her. That is, until she throws in with Zach Stone. He's a straight talker and a straight shooter. Fate finally dealt her four aces. Life is never that simple, though, is it?

HIGH STAKES BRIDE will be available for purchase in print and e-book in a couple of weeks. I'll let you know when it's available.

Thanks for stopping by!

AUTHOR DEVON MATTHEWS STOPS BY

Author Devon Matthews

Please help me welcome fellow author Devon Matthews to the blog. Devon and I met through Jacquie Rogers and her Western site on Facebook and are both members of the Cowboy Kisses blog.

Caroline: Tell our readers where you grew up and all the private, personal details we long to know.

Devon: I was born and lived the first few years of my life right here in Southeastern Kentucky. When I was in 4th grade, we moved to Ohio and that’s where I lived until I married and moved out into the big, wide world. I’m the eldest of five children. I’ve always been considered a bookworm and enjoyed my alone time with my book friends and my imagination. To this day, my siblings think I’m the odd duck in the bunch. After living all over the country, I’m back in Kentucky. I’m very happily married to my personal hero. We have a grown daughter and son, who still live at home with us.

Caroline: Aren’t we lucky to be married to our Heroes? Who are your favorite authors and favorite genres?

Devon: Need you ask, Caroline? LOL! Actually, I started out being a very eclectic reader. I read everything I could get my hands on. Then, in the ‘70’s, I went into a western phase and read every book at my local library written by Zane Grey and Louis Lamour. It wasn’t until the mid ‘80’s that I happened across my first romance and, guess what, it was a western historical. I was hooked! Up to that point, I had played around with writing. It was only when I started reading western historicals that I knew exactly what I wanted to write. Two of my very favorite historical romance authors are Maggie Osborne and LaVyrle Spencer. Sad days when they retired.

Caroline: Oh, I agree. Maggie Osborne’s THE PROMISE OF JENNY JONES is one of my all-time favorites. What’s your favorite way to relax and recharge?

Devon: My favorite way to relax is to just do nothing. Sit on the back porch with hubby and Molly, our dog, and watch the birds, rabbits and squirrels, and talk. We have a gorgous view of open fields with cattle, and there are nothing but hills in the distance. It’s very relaxing. I also paint, crochet, and quilt. I love quilting. Love the feel of the fabric beneath my hands. It makes me feel connected to the past when I used to sit by the fireplace during the winter and watch my grandmother, mom, and aunt quilt around an enormous frame that was suspended from the ceiling.

Caroline: We had a dog named Molly, a sweet golden lab who lived to be at least sixteen. And Hero and I love watching the birds and small small creatures come to our birdseed feeders. Do you have a favorite quote that sums up how you feel about life?

Devon: My favorite quote, or at least the one I live by, would have to be the one from a Bob Dylan song, “I live in hope.” Go figure.

Caroline: Good quote, and probably something we each do. How long have you been writing?

Devon: I started writing when I learned cursive during second grade. At first, I wrote little poems. Eventually, they grew to be epics. Then I started writing stories that never ended, they just kept going. When I think about that now, it’s no wonder my first completed romance manuscript ended up being 170,000 words. That first romance was nearly 15 years ago. Eventually, that whopper of a manuscript got culled down to 92,000 words and became my first published book.

Caroline: Wow, that was a whopper of a book. Where do you prefer to write? Do you need quiet, music, solitude? PC or laptop?

Devon: Several years ago, hubby turned our dining room into my private writing room. I spend a lot of time in here. It’s my sanctuary, my cave. In here, I’m surrounded by books and other favorite things. I have old bridles and western art hanging on the walls. I have a brass spittoon that actually came from the old western era and a statue of John Wayne that I talked the salespeople at the Houston Trunk Factory in Houston into selling, even though he was only for display with their luggage. He’s been standing guard over my writing for the past 27 years. I write on my PC because the large screen gives me more of the big picture. I do have a laptop, but because the keys are so close together, when my fingers get to flying, I end up with gibberish. I prefer total quiet when I write. Any noise, a tv in another room, people talking, or even music pulls me out of my imaginary world.

Carolien: Devon, I feel the same way about my PC and laptop. And I have my daughter’s former bedroom for my pink cave. Are you a plotter or a panzer?

Devon: A little of both. I started out being a total pantser. My published book, ANGEL IN THE RAIN, started from a single recurring image I had of a woman standing in the desert with long blond hair blowing in the wind. Then, a mysterious stranger on a dark horse would ride up and literally sweep her off her feet and onto the horse with him. I ran with that image and built around it until I had the entire story. It worked out but, these days, I leave nothing to chance. When I conceive a story, I know the beginning, middle, and especially the ending. The rest, the in-between parts, I leave fairly loose. I don’t like planning everything down to a gnat’s patoot because I like to leave the door open for those nice surprises that often pop up during the writing process.

Caroline: That makes you a plotzer. ☺ Do you use real events or persons in your stories or as an inspiration for stories?

Devon: No, so far I’ve never used a real person or historical event as a main focus in my writing. I even invent fictional towns for my main settings and set them down in terrain I’m familiar with. That way, I can give my imagination free rein.

Caroline: Right, and that’s why I have trouble when asked who I’d cast as my hero and heroine. They are unique and in my head and don’t compare to living people. Do you set daily writing goals? Do you get a chance to write every day?

Devon: I’m a daily word count junkie. I keep charts to track my daily count. I’m a bean counter by nature, so it’s a comfort thing to watch the numbers grow on paper. I wish I wrote every day. It’s seems a contradiction to the word count junkie thing, but I’ve always been a binge writer. I’ll write like someone possessed for days on end, until I exhaust myself, then I’ll go as long as weeks sometimes without writing a word. My newest goal is to break that habit and write a manageable number of words *every* day

Caroline:  Daily writing is a good habit, but life does interfere, doesn’t it? What do you hope your writing brings to readers?

Devon: Enjoyment. Plain and simple. My goal is to provide entertainment and to leave my readers with a good, warm feeling when they’ve read the final page.

Caroline: Me, too. What long-term plans do you have for your career?

Devon: Very honestly, the only plan I have right now is to finish the next book. And then the next one and the next. If I can do that, then we’ll see how it goes. I would love to have a career at writing. I would love to someday be named as someone’s favorite author. That’s as close to long-term as I can get right now. ☺

Caroline. Those are good goals. Would you like to tell us what you’re working on now?

Devon: Currently, I’m up to my eyeballs in a western historical romance titled “My Wild Texas Rose.” Here’s what I plan for the back cover copy:

Rose Barrett left her home five years ago, taking with her a secret that tore her family apart. Now, she’s back to confront her brother, whose disastrous debts have endangered their survival. Faced with losing her home forever, she turns to the one man who can help her save it—handsome, headstrong Trey Delaney, her father’s former right hand man.

Trey has no choice but to play along with Rose’s plans or he’ll lose his own birthright. With their adjoining ranches legally tied, if her place goes, his goes with it. Together, they must defy her brother, and defeat an unseen enemy bent on destroying them.

With the passing days, what begins as an arrangement of necessity ignites an affair that heats up the Texas cattle country. In Trey, Rose has at last found a man deserving of her love and trust. Can she heal from her past and give him her heart, or will desire turn to dust when the final secret she harbors is revealed?

Caroline: Rats, wish I’d thought of that title. ☺ What advice would you give to unpublished authors?

Devon: I wish I had something new and revolutionary to say. But the best advice has been given a jillion times over and it’s just this--  Keep at it. Set manageable goals. Never give up. Believe in yourself. And write, just write.

Caroline: Maybe it’s not revolutionary, but it’s great advice. Is your book a series? If so, how long? Family saga, other?

Devon: “Angel in the Rain” is a full-lengh standalone and so is the one I’m currently working on. But I do have a series in the works that I hope to get to after this one is finished. I already have the first two books in the series partially written.

Caroline: Tell us something you learned researching your book that surprised/interested you.

Devon: The most interesting thing that happened while researching ANGEL IN THE RAIN, which takes place on both sides of the border, was taking a trip out to Sierra Blanca in extreme West Texas to scout out the location. I could write an entire book about the experiences we had there. It was quite the trip.

Caroline: Sounds interesting and maybe you will elaborate on a later blog visit. In the meantime, how about a blurb of ANGEL IN THE RAIN?

Devon: Here’s the blurb:
After two years of finishing school, Angel Clayton is determined to redeem herself and become a lady like the mother she never knew. But her wild Texas legacy returns to haunt her when she finds herself the unwilling pawn in a battle of wills between her father’s enemy and a sexy pistolero whose reputation makes hers look positively angelic.
Rane Mantorres is a gunfighter with a big reputation and an even bigger score to settle. When he learns his enemy plans to kidnap a wealthy rancher’s daughter, he foils the plot and kidnaps her himself. Now he must dare far more than he bargained as he’s caught between his thirst for justice and a burning desire for his spirited hostage. Will he risk all—his revenge, even his life—for one night of unforgettable passion with an angel in the rain...

Great cover, right?

Caroline: Quite a set up. How about an excerpt?

Devon: Here’s the opening scene—

West Texas – Spring, 1880

The moment she stepped from the stagecoach, cold chills skittered over Evangeline’s skin. She saw nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that should have made her uneasy in the least. So, why did she feel as though someone had just stepped on her grave?

The Agave Flats relay station looked much the same as a dozen others she’d seen since leaving the train three days ago—a crude blend of rough-hewn wood and adobe, flanked by knotty-poled corrals, standing in the middle of an empty landscape.

“Thirty minutes, ma’am, if you want to stretch your legs,” the stage driver called.

She forced an answering smile. If she “stretched her legs” much more, she wouldn’t be able to fit them inside the coach. With each interminable stop, she found it harder to tamp down a growing feeling of unease. She needed to be home.

A station attendant led away the horses, amid a swirl of dust. Evangeline looked down and slapped at the grit clinging to her fine, fawn wool traveling suit. Aunt Nelda would have a conniption if she could see her standing there without gloves or even a parasol to protect her ladylike pallor from the harsh southwestern sun. She heaved a breath and turned her back to the warm, grit-laden wind.

That’s when she saw him.

Nerve endings jolted when she spotted the dark figure nearly blending into the shadows of the relay station. The man stood with a shoulder braced against the outside wall, his thumbs hooked on the edge of a low-slung cartridge belt. One booted ankle anchored over the other. His relaxed pose stretched dark trousers taut over a long, muscled thigh. The black hat riding low on his forehead hid all but his chin and sardonically quirked mouth. His very posture exuded arrogance and something more. Something so darkly compelling it bordered sinister.

She knew he was staring at her. Right through her, in fact. Though the hat brim concealed his eyes, his gaze raked her with the impact of a physical touch.

Being stared at by men was nothing new to Evangeline Clayton. A woman traveling alone was a magnet for every roué along the pike, and she’d received her share of suggestive winks and leers during the train ride west.

Somehow, this man’s veiled inspection affected her more, probed deeper, as if he knew her very thoughts. She sensed a coiled energy behind his indifference, like a cat poised to pounce. And she had an eerie feeling that she was his prey.

“Miss Clayton?”

The driver’s voice tugged at her. With reluctance, she turned her back on the enigmatic stranger.
“Yes?”

“Just wanted to tell you, there’s coffee inside, if you want to step in out of the wind while we change the horses.”
“Thank you, Mr. Stewart. I just might do that.”

Evangeline watched the driver walk away and worried the inside of her bottom lip between her teeth. Tiny tingles continued to chase up and down her back.

Abruptly, the sensation vanished. She turned, knowing she would find the man in the shadows gone.

Caroline: Ooooh, intriguing scene. I love the phrase "His gaze raked her with the power of a physical touch." Wonderful visual and sensual writing. Tell us where we can find your books.

Devon:  ANGEL IN THE RAIN is available at:

 Amazon –   http://www.amazon.com/Angel-In-The-Rain-ebook/dp/B004Y1QH1M/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1344492855&sr=8-2&keywords=angel+in+the+rain

Barnes & Noble --   http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/angel-in-the-rain-devon-matthews/1100935446?ean=2940012410115

Smashwords     https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/56057

And how can curious readers learn more about you?

Devon: From these links:
Web site    http://www.devonmatthews.net/

Personal blog    http://www.devonmatthews.blogspot.com/

Cowboy Kisses group blog  http://cowboykisses.blogspot.com/ 

Facebook   https://www.facebook.com/devon.matthews.52

Caroline: Is there anything else you’d like readers to know about you?

Devon: Just that I appreciate you all. The notes I’ve gotten and the interaction with some of my readers have made this journey one of the most extraordinary experiences of my life.

Thank you so much for having me on your blog today, Caroline!

Thank you, Devon, for sharing with us today. Your novel is at the top of my TBR on my Kindle.

Readers, please return Friday for an interview with Kimberly Lewis.

Thanks for stopping by!

LAUNCH FOR MY NEW BOOK, BRAZOS BRIDE!

Me doing a
happy dance!

This weekend is the official launch of my new western historical BRAZOS BRIDE, set in 1870 North Central Texas. Woo Hoo! I am so excited about this book. While considering this trilogy, I engaged in a lot of research on stage lines, Comanche attacks, pioneer settlements, and a million other things specific to the area and time period. Let me share with you some of the places and events that inspired me.

Frankly, I love trilogies. I like seeing the hero and heroine from the first book reappear still happily married in the second and third books. Family-oriented books also appeal to me, so this trilogy features three brothers: Micah, Zach, and Joel Stone. Zach lives on Stone Mountain and his brothers live nearby. You can see why it’s subtitled Men of Stone Mountain, can’t you? But back to inspiration.

A fascinating non-fiction book, PAINTED POLE by Barbara Belding Gibson, is about the Belding Ranch. Fortunately, I bought mine years ago because now they're very hard to find and expensive. When the first Belding came to Palo Pinto County, Texas in 1859, he found an abandoned small cedar log cabin already on the land. To people in the east or in Europe and the UK, I realize thatjust ovee 150 years is not old. But y'all remember, we’re the “new” part of the US, and that time period is early for Texas, partner. Texas only became a country in 1836, and then a state in 1845.

Mr. Belding had a huge ranch that has since been divided several times among descendants. The portion on which Barbara and Cy Gibson live includes the original cabin, smokehouse, and cold room. These structures have been preserved and incorporated into the newer portions of the ranch house. The former cabin is now a bathroom--roomy for that purpose, but very small for a home. Fortunately, the Gibsons love history and are excellent stewards of their heritage.

Approaching the
Palo Pinto Mountains

Several years ago, Hero noticed in the local newspaper that the Belding-Gibson Ranch was holding an open house. YeeHaw! We attended and I was enthralled. This ranch was perfect for the first book in my trilogy! Although I was working on other projects, I took notes like mad.

California hacienda in Laguna Beach
similar to Hope Montoya's (sans
plam trees and beach)

The heroine, Hope Montoya, is Hispanic from a very wealthy family who were in Texas before there were anglos. She lives in a two-story Spanish-style hacienda reminiscent of the Moorish Spanish architecture found in many areas of the Southwest.
 However, that's not true of the hero, Micah Stone.

Belding cabin on right, dogtrot,
and smokehouse on left from a
photo in PAINTED POLE

Micah lives in a replica of the Belding Ranch cabin with a dog trot extension. I enlarged the cabin minutely, so there was room for five bunks and some other furniture. I also attached a porch with a couple of benches and a chair for the hero, his brothers, and two ranch hands. That’s the fun part of writing; we can take reality and twist it to suit our stories. Mmm, I feel so empowered! I can almost hear Helen Reddy singing in the background. "I am woman, hear me roar...."

Part of the Belding Ranch is beneath
Possum Kingdom Lake, which
was created by daming the Brazos. The
white cliff on the left is Hell's Gate and
a part of the original ranch.

The Brazos River runs through this area, winding through ravines and creating lovely scenery. The hills are the Palo Pinto Mountains, called that by the Native Americans who labeled them “painted poles” for the scrub oaks colorful fall leaves. They aren’t the Appalachians or the Rockies, folks, but the Palo Pinto Mountains are beautiful in their own way. To someone like me who mostly grew up in relatively flat West Texas, they are gorgeous. I used this area in another book, a modern time travel titled OUT OF THE BLUE. That book has an Irish girl from 1845 plopping into the modern lake beside the bass boat of a police detective.

When I was a small girl, I lived in Southern California and fell in love with the Spanish architecture prevalent there. Probably that's why I love Santa Barbara, San Antonio, Santa Fe, and Albuquerque so much. Anyway, that’s the style I chose for the heroine’s home. In my mind, I can picture it so clearly. I hope my writing brings the home to life for readers.

And I love romances where there is also murder and mayhem. This one has both. I just love torturing my characters. (Ghoulish laugh)

Another commonality of this trilogy is that each involves a type of poison. In BRAZOS BRIDE, the heroine is being poisoned and enlists the hero’s help to discover the killer. Her plan involves a temporary marriage of convenience so she can control her estate. Well, you’ve read enough romances to know how that will end, right? But you need to read this book to see how Hope and Micah arrive at their happy ending. Really, you do need to read the book!

Here’s the blurb:

Hope Montoya knows someone is poisoning her, but who? She suspects her mother was also poisoned and knows her father was murdered. Who wants her family eliminated? She vows to fight! She realizes she won’t last the eight months until she turns twenty-five and her uncle no longer controls her or her estate. Never will she be dominated by a man as she was by her father, as she has seen her mother and grandmothers dominated. If she marries, she gains control now, but only if she weds a man she can trust. Only one man meets her requirements. Can she trust him to protect her and capture the killer...but then to leave?

Micah Stone has been in love with Hope since the first time he saw her. But he was accused of her father’s murder and surely would have hung if not for his two brothers’ aid. Most in the community still believe him guilty. But the drought has him too worried about water for his dying cattle to care about his neighbors’ opinions. When Hope proposes a paper marriage in exchange for land on the Brazos River and much needed cash, her offer rubs his pride raw. His name may be Stone, but he’s not made of it. He can’t refuse her for long, and so their adventure begins.

And here’s an excerpt from in the hotel room after the wedding:

She looked at her hands. Perhaps she was unreasonable. Or maybe insane for sympathizing with a man who'd had to work harder because of her family.


"I know it is an odd situation. If—if you wear your shirt and britches, I guess it would be all right if you slept on top of the cover here." She patted the bed beside her.


He froze. Not a muscle moved, and he only stared at her. Had she misunderstood? Did he think her offer too forward?


She babbled, "That is, if you want to. You said I should trust you. Well, maybe you would be more comfortable where you are." Why didn't he say something? Would he prefer sleeping in a chair to sharing the bed?


From the street below, she heard raucous laughter and someone called to a man named Ben. Music from a piano, she supposed in the saloon, drifted in through the open windows. A gust of breeze moved the curtains and slid across her skin. In this room, though, there was no sound.


Slowly, he rose and extinguished the lamp as he moved across the room. She slid one of the pillows beside hers then scooted down. What had possessed her to offer him half her bed? Would he think she invited more?


Too late to take it back now, for the mattress dipped as he stretched out. Quaking inside at the thought of him so near, she turned her back to him. She heard his weary sigh, as if he relaxed for the first time in a long while.


"Good night," she offered, and hoped he understood the finality of the phrase.


"Yep. Good night, Mrs. Stone." The mattress shook as he turned his back to her. She felt the soles of his feet press against her ankles. He must be several inches too long for the bed and she guessed he had to bend his legs to fit. She didn't dare turn to see firsthand.


She lay perfectly still, afraid to take a deep breath. Soon his breathing changed and she knew he slept. Outside the open window the town quieted and the distant tinkling of the piano was the only sound. Light from the full moon illuminated the room and slanted across the bed. A soft breeze drifted across her, lulling her in its caress.


With a sigh, she fought to relax, but abdominal pain kept her awake no matter how her body cried for rest. Perhaps if she planned, she’d forget the pain and chills that racked her frame.


Plan, yes. She needed a plan for food preparation when she returned to her home. No, Micah said he had a plan. Oh, dear, once more he took charge when it was her life, her home.


Maybe Aunt Sofia and Uncle Jorge would have left by then and things would be fine. Already she felt more secure. She sensed her eyelids drifting closed and the sleep’s blessed relief approaching. She snuggled into the pillow.


A gunshot ripped apart the night.


The blast startled her and she screamed as something thudded near her head, showering her hair and face with splinters. Panic immobilized her. What had happened?


Micah dragged her onto the floor as a bullet ripped into the mattress.

Want to know what happens next? BRAZOS BRIDE is 65,000 words, mildly sensual, and only 99 cents at Amazon Kindle. Here’s the buy link:


http://www.amazon.com/Brazos-Bride-Stone-Mountain-ebook/dp/B007HS10SY/ref=sr_1_18?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1331156267&sr=1-18


On Monday, Ann Christine will by a guest, so please return. Thank you for stopping by!