Paty Jager

Wednesday Western- True Grit

2012-02-01T00:01:00.000-08:00

I may get blasted out of the western genre for this but...Here goes.

I bought the old and the new version of True Grit. I'd watched the old version a long time ago and since I have a terrible memory wanted to see it again and the new movie. This is where I'll get blasted... I'm not a John Wayne fan. I've only watched a few of his movies that I liked. Anyway, back to True Grit. I found the old version had poor acting. I couldn't get fully engaged in the story.

But because I'd watch the old movie one night and the new version the next night I knew what was going to happen, and I think that took away from the new version a bit, but I liked the newer version. The acting was much better and more believable.

I liked the strong heroine in the story. She had gumption, conviction, and a sense of justice. The Texas ranger was on the edge of honorable. There were some scenes when I didn't like him and others when I did. Which made it interesting to watch and see what he would do. Rooster Cogburn was gruff at first look but had a good heart. The trio was a good contrast adding conflict, camaraderie, and a combined objective.

Which of the movies did you like the new or old version? Why?

Monday Mystery - Rules to writing a mystery

2012-01-30T00:01:00.000-08:00

The next few weeks I'll be giving you some information from the book Writing Mysteries. It's a handbook by Mystery Writers of America. It was given to me a couple years ago by a good friend who knew I was heading toward writing mysteries.

Today is about the 10 rules for writing a mystery.
1) Plot is EVERYTHING.
With a mystery the there is a problem in the beginning of the book be it a murder, missing person or object, or the appearance of a person or object unknown to the cast of the story. This problem must be resolved by the end of the book.
2) Your hero can be male or female and have an occupation inside or outside the law. But it is good to have a secondary character who is part of law enforcement to keep things looking valid.
3) Choose a setting based on a combination of your needs and your familiarity.
4) Some violence is required whether it's the hero getting away from thugs or the one death that starts the inciting moment for the book.
5)There are some violence that is prohibited. graphic scenes of child abuse, rape, or cruelty to animals.
6)While most mysteries/detective stories are i first person narrative, use your discretion and write in either first person or third person depending on what you want your reader to know.
7)The hero cannot be the culprit and the culprit cannot be the hero.
8) Play Fair. The culprit must appear early int eh book even though the reader doesn't know they are the culprit.
9)If you use more than two characters in a scene make sure they all have a distinct voice.
10) Authenticity is required.

Friday Farm Fun - Work Ethic

2012-01-28T07:00:00.000-08:00

Sorry for the delay, I thought I'd written this ahead of time.
Watching my grandson run around here this week in shorts and Bogs(waterproof boots) reminded me of helping my parents and grandfather change irrigation pipes when I was a child.

We had two hundred acres and half of it was in hay and grain. This was back before all the automated irrigation equipment. My brothers and I were taught at an early age to help and would ride to the field then trudge along with the adults either to stand as buoys in the tall wheat or oats so the adults could find the end of the pipes or to help one child on each end of the pipe moving them.

Because it was summer and warm, I would inevitably want to wear shorts with my tennis shoes(we weren't fortunate in the finances for kids to have rubber boots) In fact, Mom even wore tennis shoes, only Dad and Grandpa had rubber boots. But I would wear shorts and then complain about the mosquitoes biting me.

I'm not sure which is most vivid in my mind helping my mom unlatch and latch pipes or the itchy, lumps that stayed with me throughout a summer. What I know did stay with me is the work ethic instilled in me as a child. We depended on the crops off the fields and it was up to us to make it grow and harvest it.

That's how I feel about my writing and books. The stories in my head won't get written if I don't sit down in a chair and write. And no matter how many other things tempt and pester me, I'll still put the words on the page. Because after publishing one book and picking up readers, I now have them depending on me to give them two books a year and that's what keeps my work ethic in place.

Wednesday Western - horses

2012-01-25T00:01:00.000-08:00

Famous horses in westerns of the 30's, 40's and fifties were Trigger, Buttermlk, Champion, Silver, Topper, and Mr. Ed.

Trigger was originally called Golden Cloud. He was quarter horse and thoroughbred and used by Roy Rogers in his movies. Rogers bought Trigger for $2500 and kept him until his death. Then the horse was stuffed and kept on display in the Roy Rogers Museum.

Buttermilk, a buckskin quarter horse, ridden by Dale Evans had been an abused horse. A trainer discovered the mare, trained her for cutting competitions, and it was at a competition that the horse was "discovered" and became Dale's horse in all but six of the Roy Rogers episodes.

Champion or "Wonder Horse of the West" was a sorrel gelding with a blaze and four white socks. He was ridden by Gene Autry and had stunt doubles for most of his tricks.

Silver in the Lone Ranger was actually two different horses. Silver #1 was a white stallion personally picked by Clayton Moore. He was gentle and could rear on command. Silver #2 was high strung and skittish and required a trainer to work with him.

Topper was a white Arabian stallion ridden by Hoppalong Cassidy (William Boyd).

Mr. Ed was a palomino named Bamboo Harvester.

Did you have a favorite horse from a TV show or western movie?

Monday Mystery - Castle

2012-01-23T00:01:00.000-08:00

I'm a huge fan of the TV show Castle. I like the way the Novelist Richard Castle uses his mystery writing skills to help the detectives discover the murderers. Because mystery novels require all types of twists and turns to lead the reader down the wrong path of the story, Castle is always looking for that twist or turn in the real life murders on the show.

Along with my mystery and intrigue I also like humor. Life would be colorless without humor. Even the smallest silly thing can be monumental if the scene is full of danger. When you watch police shows the officers sometimes have an off-color sense of humor. It's their way of coping with the horrors they see every day. This is a good way to even out the horror of the scene.

What is your favorite mystery/whodunit TV or movie? And why?

Friday Farm Fun- rain, or sleet or hail

2012-01-20T00:01:00.000-08:00

The only drawback I find in having cattle is they have to be fed every day during the winter when there's no grass for them to eat. So no matter the weather you have to go out in it and feed. This time of year it's usually snow which I don't mind because if we have snow on the ground we most likely have sunshine. Walking around and working in snow with the blue sky and sunshine above is as close to nirvana as I can get. I even love doing the chores with big fat snow flakes drifting down.

When I don't want to do the chores is when there's rain. I HATE sloshing and slipping in the mud. I hate having my boots sucked into the mud and pulling up a stocking clad foot. It tugs at my mother instincts to see calves standing in the pouring rain looking drenched. And in the winter, getting wet makes you twice as cold.

But the animals must be fed and taken care of and forget my own discomfort because I have a nice warm, dry house I can retreat to for the rest of the day and night.

This winter has been fickle. We had a week of 50 degree temps and sunshine and then a week of below freezing and sunshine. This went on for the last two months. Now, we have rain. lots of it. And I'll be sloshing around for a while according to the weather men. If only it would drop a few degrees and we had snow...

Western Wednesday- Homesteading

2012-01-18T00:01:00.000-08:00

The Homestead Act of 1862, signed by President Abraham Lincoln, made it legal for farmers to acquire ownership of land in the West by settling on it.

With a small filing fee, the Homestead Act allowed anyone to claim a quarter section of land (one-hundred-sixty acres) west of the ninety-eighth meridian(Mississippi River). If the settler stayed on the land and farmed it, called "prove it up" it was his or hers in five years and all they had to do was file for the deed. They had to be over 21 and never taken up arms against the U.S. government. Even freed slaves could homestead.

One of the things that started problems in the west was the invention of barb wire. Ranchers who had been letting their cattle graze for years unfettered now found their neighbors fencing up sections and making them have to rethink how to feed their cattle. Barb wire was developed in 1873 and was in use by 1874. A Midwest farmer, Joesph F. Glidden developed the wire and changed the open ranges forever.

Monday Mystery- Nancy Drew

2012-01-16T00:01:00.000-08:00

The second series of mysteries I read as a child were Nancy Drew mysteries. My mom ordered the books from a book club and I couldn't wait for each one to arrive. I'd read the newest one several times and reread the previous books while waiting for the next one to arrive.

I loved how Nancy had so much confidence and was clever enough to solve the mysteries.

But did you know the first Nancy Drew book appeared in 1930 after the male counterpart, The Hardy Boys mysteries(I read those too) did so well? The series was written by many different authors but were all published under the name of Carolyn Keene.

The stories have been around so many years that the books have actually been revamped several times to reflect the american culture at the time of each new revision. 80 million copies of the books have been sold in 45 different languages.

As I said I enjoyed reading the books for Nancy's spunk and ingenuity. In the earlier versions of the books she was sixteen and later they moved her age to eighteen. She lived in River Heights with her attorney father, Carson Drew, and her housekeeper, Hannah Gruen. Her mother died when she was three, though in earlier books she was ten.

Nancy was independent, smart, and had no end to her resources. She and her two friends worked to either solve mysteries Nancy stumbled into or for her father. The later books also included a boyfriend in some of her capers. Do you remember the boyfriend's name or what kind of car Nancy drove?

Friday Farm Fun- Feeding cattle

2012-01-13T00:01:00.000-08:00

Thank goodness we're a small cattle operation- only 27 head of cow calf pairs at the moment. The reason I say thank goodness, is because lately I've been doing the feeding by myself. Well not entirely by myself, I have my trusty crew of canines who hold the bales on the flat bed. ;)

When my hubby is available to help feed, I drive the tractor and he tosses the hay off the trailer. When I do the chore myself, I use either the flatbed truck or the tractor and trailer. Though the tractor and trailer are easier. I drive into the field, stop where I want to start tossing hay and get out of the truck of off the tractor, cut the strings on 800 lb bales of either alfalfa or tricticale, and pull a flake off on both sides of the flatbed. Then I get back in the truck or stand on the back of the tractor and let out the clutch and move forward about ten feet and go to the back where the hay is and toss off a couple more large flakes. I do this process until the bale is fed. Then get in the truck or hop on the tractor and head out of the field. It takes me three times as long to feed by myself as it does when there's two of us, but the cattle need fed even if I'm the only one home.

In the past when we had small bales to feed and I had to do it alone and the cows were in the larger pasture, I'd put the tractor in the slowest gear it would go, climb down the back and up onto the trailer, and feed the bales off as the tractor crept across the field. If the tractor started heading toward a fence or irrigation ditch I'd have to hop off and up the back, grab the steering wheel and redirect the tractor's course and hop back on the trailer to finish feeding. I REALLY like feeding the large bales over the small bales. Less stress to feed alone.

Feeding happens once a day in the afternoon. It gives the calves something dry to lay on and the cows then have the heat from chewing their cuds to keep them warm at night. And when it's done I have a feeling of fulfillment for a job well done.

And don't forget Tink. She has her own basket bolted onto the side of the tractor so she can ride. My husband put a basket on every tractor because she loves to ride and it's hard to work a tractor with a dog on your lap.

Western Wednesday- Louis L'Amour

2012-01-11T00:01:00.000-08:00

I don't think there's a reader of westerns,-romance or otherwise- who hasn't read or doesn't know about Louis L'Amour.
My grandpa had a huge stack of westerns beside his chair. He was a man of few words but he loved to read westerns and he'd lived some of the life that was written about in the westerns. Grandpa had been a hand on a ranch, driving teams of horses to put up hay and feed the cattle. He rode horses to mend fence and helped with branding. He'd been a railroad man and a cowboy most of his younger years. I believe the stories in the westerns resonated with Grandpa because he had lived the life.

Louis L'Amour and my grandpa would have been about the same age. Louis was born in 1908 in Jamestown, North Dakota. His father was a veterinarian who also sold farm equipment.

Between his grandfather's stories about the Civil War and Indian wars and his encounters with cowboys as well as his experience as a cowhand on ranches, Louis used this information to build the stories and characters in his books.

His love of reading started with history books and expanded to fiction when his sister worked as a librarian. His interest grew from reading books by Robert Louis Stevenson, Jack London and Edgar Rice Burroughs. These tales of adventure captured his imagination.

His mother, father, brother John, and Louis, had a seven year odyssey where they traveled he west looking for work. Louis skinned cattle in west Texas, baled hay in the Pecos valley of New Mexico, worked in the mines of Arizona, California, and Nevada and in the sawmills and lumberyards of Oregon and Washington. During all this traveling and working he met many of the characters who graced the pages of his books.

Traveling as he did also gave him firsthand knowledge of the vast territories he wrote about.

During his career he wrote 89 novels and 14 short story collections.

Do you have a favorite Louis L'Amour novel?

Mystery Monday- Whodunit?

2012-01-09T00:01:00.000-08:00

The "whodunit" is a favorite of mystery readers. It's a crime that is inexplicable, mystifies, and perplexes and keeps the reader's curiosity aroused. No whodunit would be complete without a red herring or two.

What is a red herring?
A red herring is a false clue. A good whodunnit is laced with several to throw the reader and the protagonist off the track.

Where did the term "red herring" originate?
In seventeenth century England anti-hunt people used an odorous, smoked(reddish in color) herring to draw the dogs off the scent of the fox.

What mystery have you read lately that had good red herrings in it?

Friday Farm Fun -Bullish

2012-01-06T00:01:00.000-08:00

small bull moved to corral

Last weekend we had to separate a bull from the herd and move him to the corral. Only I wasn't informed my husband was doing the chore until he called from his cell phone and said, "I'm heading the two bulls out of the pasture, get the red gate, and then the gate at the bridge."

I shoved my feet into my Bog boots, pulled on a sweatshirt, stocking cap, and gloves and jogged to the first gate that needed opened. Here came the bull we needed to move. He was jogging down the road the direction we wanted so I cut across the field to open the gates at the bridge and then the corral.

Looking up, I noted the bull running down the hay field with my husband and our border collie, Boots, not too far behind. Knowing once the bull was turned back, I'd need to stop him from going back through the first gate so I jogged that direction. My husband hollered to close the gates. I did. Then attempted to turn the bull when he came my way. I manged to scare him back the other way and then he headed for the bridge only to pivot and run through the large gap between us. Back toward the cows.

Large bull who gets to go wherever he wants

He dodged Boots's attempts to turn him and charged through our yard to get back to the pasture with the cows. My husband hollered to open the gate back up. I opened the gate and then stood back waiting, and waiting, finally I saw a big black body, and then two. Hubby had run both the bulls out this time. The biggest and oldest looked at me, snorted, and started my direction gaining momentum. I hollered and waved my arms.

He kept coming. So I stepped aside letting him go where he wanted, and thankfully the smaller bull, the one we wanted, trotted down the road, across the bridge, and into the corral., Why he couldn't have done that the first time...that's what farm life is about.

You never know how long a simple task may take. It all depends on the mood of the animal your working with.

Western Wednesday - Geronimo

2012-01-04T00:01:00.000-08:00

Here is some trivia about the famous Apache chief Geronimo.

Geronimo belonged to the Chiracahua Apaches and lived from 1829-1909. His Chiracahua name meant "the yawner".

General Crook met with Geronimo in March 1886 after Geronimo had led his band for a year on the warpath. The chief agreed to surrender. The general left with the majority of his men leaving behind a small task force to escort the Indians north to the reservation. A merchant arrived at the camp with a wagon of whiskey. The Indians drank the whiskey, forgot the agreement, and retreated back into the mountains of Mexico.

September 1886, Geronimo and his thirty-seven followers(fourteen women and children) finally surrendered to General Nelson Appleton Miles at Skeleton Canyon near the New Mexico/Arizona border. After his surrender Geronimo was imprisoned in Florida until 1894 when he was moved to Fort Sill, Oklahoma. He was never allowed to return to his Southwest desert.

Is there an Indian tribe that you're interested in? And why?

Mystery Monday- The Boxcar Children

2012-01-02T00:01:00.000-08:00

Growing up I was an avid reader and once I found books I liked I read everything I could get my hands on in a series. The Boxcar Children was my first mystery series I read and loved.

The siblings looking out for one another pulled at the familial strings in me. And the sisters closeness tugged at my wish for a sister. But the mysteries they found and solved kept me coming back for more too.

The original book and first 19 books of the series were written by an American school teacher, Gertrude Chandler Warner. The original book was published in 1924 and covered how the four orphaned Alden children, Henry, Jessie,Violet, and Benny, came to live in a boxcar.

The series took up after they moved in with their wealthy grandfather. The children solved mysteries from their boxcar now in their grandfather's backyard and while traveling with him on holidays.

There was a touch of the supernatural in some of the mysteries, but Henry and Jessie had the practical minds and would find the reason for anything that appeared "other-worldly". Most of the mysteries dealt with theft and the children usually became involved due to knowing the person they were helping.

Today the series has over 100 books. The original series was set in the 1940's and 50's some of which were written by other authors but always credited with "created by Gertrude Chandler Warner". The new "Specials" which were written after Warner's death are set in current times.

Do you remember the name of the Alden Children's dog? What was your first mystery?

Friday Fact- New Year traditions

2011-12-30T00:01:00.000-08:00

With the New Year knocking on the door, I decided to look up New Year's traditions in different countries.

I started with Netherlands, where my in-laws are from.

In the Netherlands people burn Christmas trees on street bonfires and let off fireworks to ring in the New Year and as a way of driving out the spirits of the old year.(according to a cousin, this is not limited to empty fields)

Since my niece lives in Spain I thought I’d check that one out.

When the clock strikes midnight they eat 12 grapes one with every toll to bring good luck for the next 12 months of the New Year. Sometimes the grapes are washed down with wine. Theater productions and movies are interrupted to carry out this custom.

The Mayan New Year interests me because my next series starts in Guatemala and is about the Mayans.

They Mayan people celebrate their New Year during the month of July in the Gregorian calendar.

The Mayans have a number of gods which were worshipped. Each year at New Year a different god was the focus of the New Year. New idols were made, the entrances and implements of the temple were deconsecrated with blue paint which was a sacred color. When everything was ready, the god would enter from the compass direction associated with them.

They would also perform domestic renewal rituals for the New Year such as destroying all their old pottery and fiber mats and putting on new clothes.

My mother’s side of the family is German, so what were the traditions in Germany…

In Germany people would drop molten lead into cold water and try to tell the future from the shape it made. A heart or ring shape meant a wedding, a ship a journey, and a pig plenty of food in the year ahead.

People also would leave a bit of every food eaten on New Year's Eve on their plate until after Midnight as a way of ensuring a well-stocked larder. Carp was included as it was thought to bring wealth.

And the United States New Year’s traditions…

American New Years Customs such as Dance parties are thrown on New Year's Eve to see in the year. Times Square in New York City has a ball drop hosted by a television celebrity. This is broadcast all over the United States. At the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve people will kiss or honk car horns. Paper blowers and whistles are blown. A soul food of black-eyed peas and rice called Hoppin' John is eaten by some. Other foods that are eaten at New Year are cake and champagne.

In the US they believe that black-eyed beans are lucky.

They also watch the Championship football games in stadiums or on their televisions.

These traditions came from a the website: http://www.fathertimes.net/traditions.htm

What do you do on New Year’s Eve and Day? We sometimes attend parties or host parties or the last several years have just stayed home and went to bed before midnight. This year we’ll have some family here. New Year’s day is always dinner at my mother-in-law’s.

Wednesday Guest- Margaret Breashears

2011-12-28T00:01:00.000-08:00

Castles, Ghostsand History

Whycastles and ghosts? My writing partner, Donna Helmedag and I have found ghoststo be wonderful characters in our books. We love the havoc and riotous mischiefthey can create in the lives of modern heroes and heroines. And where better tofind ghosts than in ancient castles that have withstood attacks from enemyarmies. But ghosts, no matter how fun, need historical precedence.

Creatinga story with pair of warring ghosts who are haunting a medieval castle and whoare driving its current owner to seek a ghostbusting bride sounds far-fetched.However, the list of ghostly sightings at www.medieval-castles.com/english_haunted_castles.htmpresents tantalizing possibilities to twist.

Theabundance of ghostly sightings gave Donna and me so many wonderful ideas, we couldn’tchoose just one type of sighting or behavior for our novel, Wanted:Ghostbusting Bride. So we did what all good fiction writers do. We inventedcomposite ghostly characters. Both Lady Anne and Desdemona possess specific characteristicsof historically known ghostly sighting. We added to fictional personalities andbackgrounds set in England’s turbulent times after the Battle of Bosworth Field.

Sincewe needed a periodically recurring ghostly war, we took our example from KilkeaCastle, Ireland. The 11^th Earl of Kildare, Garrett Ogg, decided topractice his magic in front of his wife. He told her to show no fear otherwisehe would vanish forever then proceeded to turn himself into a bird. A catentered the room and Garrett’s wife panicked as cat attacked the bird. The birdvanished, and now the ghost of Garrett Ogg is seen every seven years searchingfor the attacking cat. Instead of appearing every seven years, Lady Anne andDesdemona resume their ghostly war whenever a new earl claims the fictionalcastle of Ryne.

Ourghosts needed to move freely in the castle and the surrounding country side.Our inspiration came from Anne Boleyn who is said to haunt seven differentplaces. See Nancy Smith’s research at www.theanneboleynfiles.com. Desdemonaand Lady Anne also needed to be seen by the earl’s family. We borrowed from theexperiences of the current royal family when they inhabit Windsor Castle. They sometimesencounter Elizabeth I in the library or hear her footsteps on the bare floorsin other parts of the castle. This reference came from Haunted CastlesAround the World by Gregory Branson-Trent. We added the limitation on ourghosts that only family members could see the ghosts.

Whenit came to giving our ghosts behaviors, we integrated ghostly encounters frommany sightings throughout Europe. For moving furniture, especially chairs, ourexample came from Tamworth Castle in Staffordshire where witnesses hear furnituremoving yet no one is in room. When we decided that Desdemona ought to have thecapability of tossing large objects at people, our source came from the WoodchesterMansion in England where visitors tell of encounters with stones hurdlingacross the room.

Finally,our ghosts’ presence must be shown throughout the book. We used colors, movingspecks and full images of the two ghosts in period clothing so our hero andheroine could come in contact with the ghosts. The idea of colors and movingspecks come from many visitor sightings at the London Dungeon were strangelights and orbs are often reported. The descriptions of the fully clothedimages of Lady Anne and Desdemona came from a reference to the Brown Lady ofRaynham Hall. This ghost is described by one witness as “a noble woman who worea brown satin dress. Her face seemed to glow, which highlighted her empty eyesockets. See Haunted Castles Around the World by Gregory Branson-Trent.

Althoughour ghosts have historical precedence, they are definitely figments of Donna’sand my imagination. So is the castle they haunt.

Margaret Breashears

www.wantedghostbustingbride.comwhere readers encounter fiery lovers and feisty ghosts

Christmas Redemption- Part 34

2011-12-26T00:02:00.000-08:00

This story is my Holiday Gift to Readers. You can download the entire novella for free from Smashwords, Kindle, Nook, and iBook

THIS IS THE LAST INSTALLMENT OF THIS STORY. IF YOU ARE UNABLE TO DOWNLOAD THE FREE BOOK CONTACT ME THROUGH MY WEBSITE AND I'LL SEND YOU THE PDF

****

Tessa tossed and turned all night and greeted the morning despondently. Why had she fought Van when it was clear he planned to fulfill the dreams she’d had every night since meeting him? Because even though he said he’d wait for you, your fear of commitment to one person and losing them has frozen you. Her body burned to feel his hands on her again. She’d reveled in his deep, hot kiss.

A knock on the door spun her from making the bed. “Yes?”

“I’ve brought breakfast if you’re ready. We only have an hour until church.” He didn’t sound put out. Her heart raced at his voice.

She crossed to the door and opened it. His clean shaven face smiled down at her. The gleam in his eyes said he didn’t hold a grudge about the night before.

“Come in. I was just tidying up.” She went back to the bed and finished tucking in the blankets.

When she faced the room, two plates and a plate of food sat on the table. Van poured milk into the tin cups.

“You don’t have to bring me all this food.” She sat in the chair he held out for her.

“I know.” He sat across from her, studying her.

Her face heated from his scrutiny. “Why are you watching me? I haven’t changed since yesterday.” Though inside she knew better. His kisses were all she could think about. Her body throbbed in places she knew were inappropriate, yet she had no control over.

“I want to make sure my actions last night didn’t…upset you.” His gaze drifted down to her lips before returning to her eyes.

“You didn’t upset me. I wanted to say…” She swallowed. How did she say she didn’t mind advances without sounding like a strumpet? “I’m not mad.”

He let out a long breath. “Good. Then eat. We’re meeting my family at church and dining with them at the hotel restaurant after.”

“What about our dinner with Beth and Brett?” She liked the idea of not dining with Beth. The woman would pry the truth out of her soon enough.

“I invited Brett to join us at the hotel with my family.”

Lightness in her chest sprung a smile on her lips. “Then you and your family have reconciled?” He must be delighted.

“Yes, well, Ma and my sister. Pa wasn’t there, but Ma said he was distraught after I left. I just can’t figure out why he never gave my letters to Ma.”

She placed a hand on his resting on the table. “Maybe he thought it would burden her heart if your letters were full of horrible things?”

“All he had to do was read them and see I’d grown up in there and learned my lesson.”

“You’ve said he was stubborn. Perhaps it took him some years to realize his mistake and then he didn’t know how to reconcile with you.” She watched the brief flicker of hope light Van’s eyes before being snuffed out.

Van’s sorrow had become her sorrow. She flinched at the knowledge. He had become her world in a short time. Tessa focused on her food and how he’d wheedled into her heart.

Fact Friday- New eread site

2011-12-23T00:01:00.000-08:00

There is a new place to learn about ebooks and the authors. It's Super Ereads .com
It has Improper Pinkerton highlighted there: http://super-e-reads.com/2011/12/improper-pinkerton-by-paty-jager/

The site is brand new and looking for followers. If you like ebooks, and want to know what's new, this is the place you need to keep in your bookmarks.

Another fact I'd like to share with all of you is the wonder of this season. If you haven't already offered your services to a group or charity or bought a gift for a stranger, there's still time. Make someone's holiday Merry by giving of yourself. It is the greatest gift you can give them and yourself.

Merry Christmas!

Wednesday Guest, Lauri Robinson

2011-12-21T00:01:00.000-08:00

Thanks, Paty, for inviting me over today!

Happy Holidays, everyone!

I’m a romantic at heart, from music to books to movies, andChristmastime is full of romance, so therefore one of my favorite times of theyear.

I stayed up late last night watching a Christmas show…not anearth shattering one, I can’t even tell you the name of it, but one of thosesweet stories about falling in love over holidays and it was good. The endingreminded me of Christmas Eve two years ago when our youngest son, gave his now wifean engagement ring. When it came to her turn to open a gift and she chose theone from him, (only a select few in the room knew what was in that great bigbox) the room grew quieter and quieter as she opened one layer just to discoveranother box inside. By the time she flipped open the lid on the last little boxyou could have heard a pin drop. (Since there more than twenty people in the roomthat was a feat in itself.)

She squealed, he proposed, and the rest of us cheered andclapped. It was like watching a Christmas movie come to life before our eyes,and will remain a treasured family memory for years.

With that said, I do believe I was invited over to share myupcoming release. I write historical western romances for Harlequin and TheWild Rose Press. Disobeying the Marshalwill be released from Harlequin’s Undone Line January 1, 2012.

Blurb:

El Dorado, Kansas, 1881
Marshal Cord Donovan believed he was married to his badge—until one incrediblenight in Florie Rockford's bed changed everything. When Florie unexpectedlyarrives in town with a desperate warning for his safety, Cord is determined toshow her that their spark burns so hot that one night will never be enough.

But Florie has returned with more than just a warning—theconsequence of their passion defies all the lawman's rules!

Excerpt:

Florie lowered onto the couch and took a deep breath. It wastoo late to turn back. She was here. Glancing up was a mistake. The way he castthose caring eyes at her had her heart pounding and her insides growing warmerby the second. The uncanny way he made her feel was scandalous for sure, andshe’d thought of little else since he’d left her house three months ago.

Could she tell him everything? Right now, gazing at him, itwas hard to think. She begged her senses to remain, and settled her gaze on hisshoulder, the exact spot she’d dug out the bullet. “How’s your wound?”

A deep frown formed between his hazel eyes. “Fine. What didyou want to tell me?”

Twirling and twisting, her mind sought to pull up somethingbesides the images she treasured. The ones of them alone, together. The onesshe dreamed of reliving.

“Florie?” He knelt down in front of her.

He was so handsome—and honorable. The urgency she’d felt backat the farm zipped through her, settling real terror in her chest. “Those menyou were chasing that day you were shot. It was the Winter gang, wasn’t it?”

“Were they at your house?” he asked. “Did they do this toyou?”

Fear burned her throat as she whispered, “They’re after you,Cord. They’re going to kill you.”

His hand cupped her cheek. “The Winter brothers won’t hurtme.” His gaze never wavered. “Answer me. Did they do this to you?”

“They might already be in town, Cord, you have to leave, or…”She bit her lips. The desire to wrap her arms around him and hold on was sostrong she trembled from head to toe. She’d put his life in danger, and now shehad to save him. Had to. “I came—”

Thisis the first story in the Wild Western Nights Duet, book two, Testing the Lawman’s Honor, will bereleased February 1, 2012.

Blurb:

El Dorado, Kansas, 1881
Della Cramer has tried her hardest to ignore the way Deputy Spencer Monroestirs her desire, believing he doesn't share her feelings. Little does she knowthat Spencer has been harboring years of regret for not preventing her marriageto a scoundrel, despite the searing kiss they shared.
When her long-lost husband's sudden death leaves Della's future uncertain,only Spencer can help her. But first, he will have to convince her to trust himand finally give free rein to her passion....

AndI’d just like to mention that Paty and I have a book we co-wrote. For aSister’s Love. It’s available for only $.99!

Blurb:

Loreleiand Maggie Holmes make a desperate vow to reunite after an Indian raid on theirwagon train leaves them orphans. Eight-year-old Lorelei is taken in by animpoverished family headed to a Colorado mining town and ten-year-old Maggiefinds herself on the way to Portland, Oregon to live with a woman widowedduring the Indian attack.

Ten years later, Lorelei’s adoptive father gambles away her birth mother’slocket and her only connection to her lost sister. Believing she needs thelocket and to find Maggie, she sets out after the gambler and ends up in thecompany of a citified lawyer searching for the same man.

While cleaning a hotel room, Maggie discovers her mother’s locket in thepossession of a gambler. Fear for her sister increases Maggie's determination.Never one to give up, she dogs the gambler until he agrees to help her find hersister.

Two sisters, two adventures, will they find one another or will the men helpingthem be their destinies?

Thanksagain, Paty, and I wish each and every one of you a very Merry Christmas! Makememories this year, you’ll be glad you did!

Christmas Redemption - Part 33

2011-12-19T00:01:00.000-08:00

This story is my Holiday Gift to Readers. You can download the entire novella for free from Smashwords, Kindle, Nook, and iBook

****

Van returned the wagon and his team to the livery andhurried through the falling snow to the shop. He mulled everything around onhis trip back to town. There was more to his being recruited to help with thebank robbery and more between Crane and Judge Spencer. He could feel it. Hedidn’t share Ma’s confidence that Pa was a softer more tolerable man. If hedid, he’d discuss his thoughts with Pa and Brett after dinner tomorrow. Butunsure if he could forgive Pa, Van wasn’t ready to start up a confidence withthe man.

He opened the shop door. Tessa vigorously whisked the strawbroom across the floor. Her bent head and jerky movements showed her agitation.Van crossed the room in four long strides.

“What’s wrong?” He captured her arms, stilling her motion.Her green eyes stared at him unseeing and full of hardness.

She shook out of his grasp, taking several steps back. Herglare stunned him. What had transpired while he was gone to put loathing in hereyes?

“He was here. Asked for you.” She held the broom betweenthem like a weapon.

“Who was here?” Judging from the distance in her voice andthe heat in her eyes, her feeling toward him had changed. But why?

“Crane. He walked in here, studied things and said to tellyou he was here. Why did he come here to see you? Are you … and he…”

“Damn! Why did he come here? I want nothing to do with theman.” He took two steps forward. “Did he hurt you?” He’d kill the man if helaid a hand on Tessa. The outlaw had caused her enough pain.

“Why did he want to see you?” She lowered the broom a touch,but the anger and hurt in her eyes said he’d have to watch his words and hisactions until she realized he no longer had a connection with the man.

His chest ached to think she believed he would have any kindof an alliance with the man. “I don’t know. All I know is I don’t want himaround you.” He took another step toward her and took the broom out of herhands. Her stomach growled. “Didn’t you eat?”

She shook her head.

“Run upstairs and eat. I’ll watch the shop.” He nodded tothe back room. She hesitated, then picked up a basket by the stove and walkedbriskly out of the room.

Why did Crane come here? Leave such a cryptic message? Walkinginto his store in broad daylight, who saw him? Van churned the thoughts overand over in his head the rest of the day and long into the night. Tessa didn’tcome downstairs until after he’d crawled into the hard pallet on the floor ofthe storage room. He heard her light footsteps cautiously creep down the stairsand slip out the back door. He fought to stay in bed. He wanted to follow andmake sure she was all right, but he also knew if she was still in a snit, anargument in the alley wouldn’t help his situation.

The door opened and she slipped in. He rose up on one elbow.“Is everything all right?”

Her footsteps halted. He stared at the dark shadow.

“Fine.” Her voice faltered. “I was just tired.”

He stood, moving through the darkness toward her. “I wouldnever do anything to hurt you.”

“I-I know.”

His outstretched hands found her arms. She didn’t pull away.He drew her to his chest and embraced her. “All I want is for you to be happy.”

Her arms circled his waist and she squeezed, drawing theirbodies even tighter together.

“I know. I-when he said who he was, if I’d had a gun at thatmoment I would have shot him.” She shivered. “I don’t like the way the hatredclaimed me.” She nuzzled her head against his chest. Dampness penetrated hislong johns, and he realized she was crying.

“Shh…” He tipped her head up. “Don’t cry over that man orthe feelings he brought. You have a right to feel the way you do. Just don’tkill him. That’s making yourself no better than him.”

Her head nodded. He wished he dared turn on the kerosenelamp, but he didn’t want the deputy making nightly rounds to think somethingwas wrong and find them embracing.

“Let me walk you up the stairs.”

“That isn’t necessary.” She started to pull away.

He held her against his side and started up the stairs. “Yes,it is.” His body had come to life the moment he touched her. The heat andyearning coursing through him battled with his good sense. He wanted one kissand the best way to get it would be as he left her at her door.

They climbed the stairs side by side, his arm wrapped aroundher shoulders. At the top, he turned her to face him.

“I can’t wait another minute,” he whispered and covered herlips with his. Warm, soft, and even better than he remembered from their firstkiss. Van tilted his head and deepened the kiss. Her arms circled his neck, andhe drew her body against his. His hands roamed down her back, feeling each bumpof her ribs and back bone, then over the slight curve of her backside. She woreonly a flannel nightdress, giving him intimate access to the feel of her body.

She moaned and her lips parted, inviting him to enter. Histongue delved into the hot sweet recesses of her mouth. She mimicked hisactions, following his tongue move for move. The heady sensation of herpassionate advance pushed him past rationalization. He wanted her, needed her.

He picked her up and carried her to the bed. Her bodystiffened and her lips pulled away.

When she started to fight him, he dropped her on the bed.

“Sleep tight,” he said through a constricted throat. Hislead feet carried him down the stairs and back to his hard pallet. Exactly whathe needed to dispel the passion from his body and realize, if he wanted to haveTessa in his life, he had to go about it with a sane head and court her.

Friday Fact- Christmas Trees

2011-12-16T00:01:00.000-08:00

This is my humble Christmas tree this year. When we are going to have company, we go out into the woods and bring home a 15-20 foot tree(we have a 28 foot peak in our great room). Since no one(kids/grandkids) are coming for Christmas we bought a six foot tree this year. But I think it turned out lovely.

Here are some Christmas tree facts I found for you.

Wood priest in Great Britain known as Druids used evergreens for winter solstice rituals. Holly and mistletoe were synmbols of eternal life and they placed evergreen branches over door to keep away the evil spirits.

During the Middle Ages Germans and Scandinavians put evergreen trees inside and by their doors on the outside to show hope for the upcoming spring.

A legend from the year 1500 tells of Martin Luther starting the tradition of decorating trees for Christmas. On a Christmas Eve he walked through a wooded area and was awed by the beauty of the branches dusted with snow and how they glistened in the moonlight. that night he placed a small fir tree inside his home and decorated it with candles to honor Christ's birth and shared the story of his walk through the wooded area to his children.

Do you have your tree up? What is your favorite thing about your Christmas tree or tradition?

Wednesday Guest- Cate Masters

2011-12-14T00:01:00.000-08:00

Indefinablestories

I’m fascinated by authors whosestories transcend description, let alone a label. Whose stories go beyondmashing a genre or two, to an intricate interweaving of many genres. Writerssuch as Diana Gabaldon, who, interestingly enough, initially began writing justto see if she could write a book. Wow. Can she ever.

Though publishers and critics mightcomplain about their inability to slap a definitive label on it, do readersreally care? It doesn’t seem so, if she’s a national and internationalbestseller.

I was so inspired to read that Ms.Gabaldon doesn’t think about any of that when she writes. She writes to pleaseherself, and to craft a great story.

I’ve always been a big believer inauthors going with their gut, and following the flow of the story whilewriting. And then, of course, revising like crazy after the first draft’s down.

Ground Rules is a Christmas fantasy,but deeper than that, it’s a story about fulfilling oneself, and believing inoneself to find happiness.

It’s available from The Wild Rose Press: http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=195&products_id=4698

I hope you’ll pop over to my blog for theblurb, excerpt, Casting Call, and more: http://catemasters.blogspot.com/2009/08/ground-rules-christmas-fantasy.html

Here’s the book video:

Thanks for havingme at your blog, Paty! Hope everyone has a wonderful holiday!

Cate Masters has made beautiful centralPennsylvania her home, but she’ll always be a Jersey girl at heart. When notspending time with her dear hubby, she can be found in her lair, concocting amagical brew of contemporary, historical, and fantasy/paranormal stories withher cat Chairman Maiow and dog Lily as company. Look for her at http://catemasters.blogspot.com andin strange nooks and far-flung corners of the web.

Christmas Redemption-Part 32

2011-12-12T07:41:00.000-08:00

This story is my Holiday Gift to Readers. You can download the entire novella for free from Smashwords, Kindle, Nook, and iBook

Chapter Nine

Tessa smiled at the man perusing the boots and wrapped anarm around her rumbling stomach. Van brought a basket of bread, preserves, andapples to the shop before leaving to visit his family. But he’d put the foodupstairs, and she was down here waiting on the tenth customer this morning.Most had just come in curious to see what the new shop offered, However, shehad sold three pairs of boots.

The door opened and a gust of cold wind entered along withBeth smiling and swinging a small basket in her hands.

From across the room Tessa could smell fried chicken and herstomach rumbled louder.

“Marvin, you know you aren’t going to buy anything so runalong so Miss Harrison and I can eat lunch.” Beth hooked her elbow in the man’sand towed him to the door. When he was standing on the walk in front, looking abit dazed, Beth closed the door and locked it.

“Van didn’t tell me to close for lunch.” Tessa was startingto wonder why she allowed herself to be bossed around by the tiny woman.

“I’m sure he’d want you to eat and you can’t eat if peopleare in here.” Beth brushed past her and started for the back room.

Tessa raced around her and stopped, crossing her arms overher chest. “Where are you going?” She glared down into Beth’s china doll face.

She blinked her blonde lashes and smiled. “I’m not sittingon the floor to eat my lunch. I know Van has purchased furniture for the livingquarters.”

Tessa left her night clothes folded on the pillow and herextra dresses hung on hooks in the living quarters. Van had insisted she moveall her belongings up there this morning before he left. She couldn’t have Bethwalk in and see she was also living up there even though they were sleepingwith a floor between them.

“I really think we should unlock the door and sit here. Ican bring another chair down.”

The hem of Beth’s brown wool skirt moved and the sound oftapping registered. “What are you and Van hiding upstairs?”

“Nothing. I just think since it is the second day ofbusiness we should stay open.” Gulping the prickling ball of dread down herthroat, she hoped her tone didn’t sound as wishy-washy to Beth as it did toher.

“Why don’t you want me to go upstairs?” Beth narrowed hereyes.

“Fine. Go, I don’t care.” If the woman was going to be thisinsistent she might as well fess up.

Beth started around her and stopped, holding her sleeve infront of her nose. Patch sauntered out from the back room and slinked aroundher skirt.

“No! Get back!” She sneezed and dropped the basket as shefrantically searched her pockets and finally came up with an embroidered hanky.“Cats make me sneeze. I can’t… I can’t stay.” Beth scurried to the door. “Bringthe basket when you come to dinner tomorrow.”

A giggle of relief bubbled in Tessa’s chest. “I will andthank you for the food.”

She gathered the cat into her arms as Beth fumbled to unlockthe door and rush out. Tessa rubbed her face against Patch.

“Thank you for scaring her off. I ’m not ready for her oranyone to know how many of us are living in this building.” She picked up thebasket and sat by the stove. Patch jumped from her lap to the workbench andsniffed each item she came to.

“I’m as interested in watching him make a boot as you are.”Tessa pulled back the cloth covering the basket and plucked out a piece ofchicken.

The door opened and air whooshed around her ankles. A manwho looked vaguely familiar wandered in. He wore a long oil coat and had hishat pulled low on his forehead.

She placed the chicken back in the basked and wiped herhands on the cloth. “May I help you?” She stood and approached the man.

He ignored her and wandered around the shop stopping brieflyto look at the boots. “Where’s Donovan?” he asked not even glancing at her.

“Out. May I be of assistance?” The man made her nervous,fidgety.

“Tell him Crane was by to see him.”

Tessa sucked in air and stared at the man who killed herfather. Before she could shove her surprise aside and dredge up her anger, hewas gone. Her hands shook. Her head swam with hatred. Now she knew what helooked like, she’d be looking for him. He’d pay for taking her father from her.

She couldn’t eat, couldn’t even sit.

Friday Fact

2011-12-09T08:12:00.001-08:00

The fact today is I received my release date for Spirit of the Sky! Mark your calendars the third and final book of the Nimiipuu Spirit trilogy will be available May 4, 2012.

This third book follows the Nimiipuu (Nez Perce) when they are fleeing to freedom. As nontreaty Indians(having not signed the treaty to put them on a reservation) they believe they should be allowed to be free. When the army is sent to physically place them on the reservation several bands of Nez Perce and other tribes band together and make a desperate run for freedom. This book is told from Sa-qan the Nimiipuu spirit's point of view and a Lieutenant in the army who is following orders.

I used multiple books written from both sides to make this book ring as true to their feelings and the battles that ensued during the Nimiipuu's dash for freedom.

Blurb:

To save her from oppression, he must save her whole tribe. To give herhis heart, he must desert his career…

When the US Army forces the Nimiipuu from their land, Sa-qan, the eaglespirit entrusted with watching over her tribe, steps in to save her mortalniece. Challenging the restrictions of the spirit world, Sa-qan assumes humanform and finds an unexpected ally in a handsome cavalry officer.

Certain she is a captive, Lt. Wade Watts, a Civil War veteran, tries tohelp the blonde woman he finds sheltering a Nez Perce child. While herintelligent eyes reveal she understands his language, she refuses his help. Butwhen Wade is wounded, it is the beautiful Sa-qan who tends him. Wade wishes tostop the killing—Sa-qan will do anything to save her people.

Can their differences save her tribe? Or will their love spell the endof the Nimiipuu?

New Year a New Look

2011-12-07T00:01:00.000-08:00

Starting in 2012 my blog will have:

Monday Mystery which may be mystery trivia or information I gathered while working on my new mystery series or a review of a mystery I've read or a mystery author guest.

Western Wednesday will be western trivia, information I gathered while writing a book, or a review of a western book, or perhaps a western author guest.

Fridays will be Farm Friday where I talk about life either as a kid growing up on 200 acres with the Whitman Wilderness as my backyard, or raising kids with livestock, or my life now ranching with my husband.

If you aren't already a follower I hope you add this blog to your list of follows and come by and visit often.

Christmas Redemption- Part 31

2011-12-05T08:50:00.001-08:00

This story is my Holiday Gift to Readers. You can download the entire novella for free from Smashwords, Kindle, Nook, and iBook

“He’s out with Sylvester checking ice on the cattle’s water.I don’t expect him back until middle of the afternoon.” She glanced at him. “Willyou stay that long?”

He shook his head. “I can’t. I have to get back to my shop.”

“Shop? Where? What kind?”

“I purchased a building in town and set up a boot makingshop. I learned the trade in prison. I’ve been making a good living on specialorders and thought it was about time I came back and showed Pa I didn’t needhim to make my way.” The last words came out more bitter than he’d intended.

“I knew you would be successful in whatever you did. You hadthe grit of your father and the brains of your mother.” She winked at him, andhe couldn’t help but laugh.

“How have you lived with him all these years and stayed sobright?” He took a cookie off the plate she set on the table. Grace had shedher coat and sat across from him, watching him intently while nibbling on acookie.

“Because I love him and understand where his fouldisposition comes from.” Ma sat in the chair beside him and placed a hand onhis arm. “Your father had a hard life growing up. He scraped and scrounged toget by. He was hard on you because wanted you to learn it took hard work to getahead. He didn’t want you having things handed to you because you were his son.”

“But why didn’t you come see me in the Baker City jailbefore they hauled me to prison?” He could forgive his father being hard on himbecause he’d been a goof off a good deal of the time, but not the fact theydidn’t visit him when they had a chance. “Or show up for the trial?”

Tears glistened in Ma’s eyes. She squeezed his arm. “There’sa part of our lives we don’t like to think about.” She drew in a deep breath. “Grace,go in the other room and work on that scarf you’re making your pa.”

His sister reluctantly stood and shuffled into the otherroom.

“You know your pa and I moved here shortly after we married.”

Van nodded. His pa was looking for a fresh start away fromthe actions of his brothers.

“You don’t know the real reason.” She walked over to thestove, brought the coffee pot back, and placed it on a towel in the middle ofthe table.

His gut gurgled and squeezed. Finally, maybe some insightinto Pa.

“I was betrothed to another when I met your father whilevisiting relatives in his town. We-we were inseparable from the minute we laideyes on one another.” The wistful smile reminded him of Tessa when she didn’tknow he was looking. She had the same dreamy gaze and smile.

His mother turned troubled eyes on him. “I didn’t want toreturn, but knew I had to face my betrothed and tell him I couldn’t marry him.I loved your father.” She shook her head and sadness steeped in her eyes. “Icared for Thomas, but I didn’t love him. He said he didn’t care if I’d beenseen at a dance with another, he’d help me forget your pa.” She looked away. “ButI couldn’t.”

His heart lodged in his throat when she looked at him withtears spilling out of eyes filled with love. “You were already growing insideof me.”

He didn’t know what to say. Found it hard to believe Mawould… But he also knew if Tessa let him he’d make love to her withoutmarriage. He wanted her that much.

“Ma…”

She clasped his hand between her two small work worn hands. “Itold him, and he shoved me away and called me… you don’t need to know, but Isaddled a horse and rode all night and all day to get to your father. Hemarried me and we moved here.” She wiped at the tears sliding down hersun-kissed skin etched with faint wrinkles. “I’ve never regretted marrying yourfather or your birth.” Her mouth formed a firm straight line. “But I willregret making an enemy of Judge Thomas Spencer.”

Van stared at his ma. Judge Spencer was the spurned suitor?Was that why they hadn’t come to the trial? Neither wanted to see the man? Or causehim to add even more years to a ridiculous punishment?

“That’s why we didn’t come to the trial. We were afraid ifhe saw us and knew you were our son, the one that caused me to break my promiseto him, he’d be unyielding in his sentencing. When we heard he gave you tenyears, your pa wanted to have it out with him. But I wouldn’t let him.” Sheshook her head. “But I don’t know why your father didn’t let me read theletters. He was as torn up about it as I was. Blamed himself for everything. Itwasn’t until I was pregnant with your sister that he stopped being so hard onhimself.”

Van felt the boulder of resentment that had settled betweenhis shoulders years ago slowly rise. Pa had reasons for his actions. Reasons asan adult, Van understood. Not completely. Theletters. But enough, the hurt and rage he’d festered, lanced and oozed outallowing forgiveness to enter.

“Tessa and I’ll be at church tomorrow, we were to go to Bethand Brett’s afterwards, but we could all meet at the hotel restaurant, my treat.”Brett wanted his family to meet Tessa and her to meet them, properly.

“Tessa? Are you talking about Tessa Harrison? She works in asaloon.” Ma’s sudden snobbery stung.

“She works in my boot shop.”

“B-but is that such a good idea? Her working there and youbeing seen with her?”

Van looked hard and long at his ma. “I would think you’d behappy I provided her a means to get out of the saloon.”

“W-well yes, I am. That’s wonderful you could help her, butshowing up in church with her… She’ll—”

“She’ll be welcomed if you and Beth show the other women sheisn’t tainted. And she isn’t. All she did at the saloon was serve drinks.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I asked her, and I can tell she’s innocent.” Hethought of their shared passionate kisses and was glad he was the only one tohave experienced them.

Ma scrutinized him, her dulling blue eyes searching hisface. “You have feelings for Tessa?”

“Strong ones.” He smiled. He had very strong ones. So strongit took all his control the night before to not creep up the stairs and sharehis bed with her.

“Then I guess I better make sure the other ladies reach outto her in a Christian way.”

“That’s all I ask. So, you’ll plan to join us after servicestomorrow?” He would have a meal with his family, one he’d pay for with his ownhard earned money.

“Yes. We’ll save you a seat at church.”

Van rose, kissed his ma’s forehead and called into the otherroom, “Grace, see you tomorrow.”

The child raced into the kitchen and smiled broadly. “Youbet.”

He hugged Ma when she stood and shoved his hat on his head.Tomorrow would be the dawning of a new life for him. He’d have his family backand if all went well he’d earn even more regard from Miss Tessa Harrison.

Friday Facts- Saloon Justice

2011-12-02T00:01:00.000-08:00

As people moved west cowtowns and mining towns were erected. Where there were groups of people living there was need for law. While there were no lawmen or judges, the towns folk would take things into their own hands. The saloon would be used for the courtroom and more often than not the bartender or owner of the saloon was the judge.

They didn't know real law or Latin but they had common sense and kept an open mind when trying a case. He may not have been literate but used his life experiences and horse sense to deal out justice. By doling out the judgement he won the gratitude and respect of the community. The fines would be set by the judge to cover all costs including his own.

A judge who worked out of his saloon has to have a presence which "overawes and subdues" or he wouldn't last long.

Wednesday Guest- Melissa McClone

2011-11-30T00:01:00.000-08:00

Melissa McClone writes for Harlequin Romance. She was a 2011 RITA® Finalist in the Contemporary Series Category. She graduated from Stanford University with a degree in Mechanical Engineering, but quit her job to write romance novels. Writing happily ever afters is a lot more fun than analyzing jet engine performance. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, three children, four oh-so-spoiled cats and a dog named Chaos.Tolearn more about Melissa check out her website. melissamcclone.com

How long have you been writing for Harlequin?
I've written for Harlequin since I made my first sale in November 1997. I sold a manuscript to Silhouette Your Truly. My first book was the last book the line published. I was then moved to Silhouette Romance. That line merged with Harlequin Romance in 2005. I've been writing for Harlequin Romance since then.

What is the category you write for? (Give a detail of that category- the type of stories)
I write traditional romances aka sweets. The tag line for the line is From the Heart. For the Heart. The sensuality level varies among the stories in the lines, but the door is kept closed during love scenes.

What are you working on now?
I'm one of eight authors participating in a Harlequin Romance continuity series about two families, one from a small town in Texas and the other from New York with a big secret—two actually! My story features the youngest daughter from the Texas family and takes place in Hollywood. The hero is a movie star.

BLURB for FIREFIGHTER UNDER THE MISTLETOE:

Christmas magic in Hood Hamlet...

For Leanne, infuriatingly charming firefighter Christian Welton is out ofbounds. Not only is he too young for her, but his trail of broken hearts islegendary. Leanne's fought hard to be one of the boys, and won't let anyone seethat Christian's smile makes her want to melt into his arms!

Christian wanted to discover the softer side of the tough-talking paramedic,but hasn't counted on how much the real Leanne affects him. He's vowed never tosettle down, but under the mistletoe it's certainly the season to be tempted.…

If you'd like to meet Leanne Thomas, she was a secondary character in Melissa'sfree on-line read, Snow-Kissed Reunion, at eharlequin.com.

EXCERPT from FIREFIGHTER UNDER THE MISTLETOE:

Oneof the backpacks fell away from the snow cave entrance. The other followed. Ared helmet poked inside. OMSAR.

Relief flowed through Christian's cold, sore body. Time toget Owen out of here.

"Yes," Owen whispered.

Therescuer crawled into the snow cave. He held a red duffel bag with a white crosson it. Ice covered his helmet, ski mask, goggles and black parka. The wordRESCUE was written in white down one sleeve. He removed his goggles and pulleddown his ski mask to expose his mouth.

Not a he. Christian's dry lips curved upward."Thomas."

LeanneThomas was a paramedic at the station. Pretty with an athletic, hot body. He'dwanted to ask her out when he first started working at the station, but shewasn't his normal type. He'd decided not to pursue her. A good thing, he'dlearned.

Toughas nails and all business, Thomas was like a drill sergeant on steroids when itcame to being out on a call or breaking in a new rookie. She took her jobseriously, expected others to do the same and never let her hair down.Christian wouldn't mind being around if she ever loosened that tight ponytailor those braids she wore.

Herface was pale except for her cheeks, flushed from the cold. She acknowledgedhim with a nod and sniffled. "Welton."

Surprising warmth flowed through him. His smile widened."It's so good to see you."

"Goodto see you, too, rookie." She removed her climbing gloves. "Paulson'soutside. The chief's been letting us switch shifts so we could bring you home.No one wants to go back to eating Frank's Turkey Meatloaf Surprise fordinner."

Christianlaughed. Something he hadn't done since yesterday. It really was good to seeher. "I'll cook you whatever you want when we get down."

A smile tugged on the corners of her mouth. "Becareful, I might hold you to that."

She'd saved lives as a paramedic. She would help Owen."Do."

Thomas pulled on exam gloves. "Injured? Feet?"

"Fine.Feet are cold, but I can feel my toes," he said quickly. "Mypartner—cousin—Owen fell skiing the face. He's twenty-six. No preexistingmedical conditions. Looks like a broken ankle and arm. Some sort of kneeinjury."

"Hey,I'm right here." Owen sounded annoyed. That was much better than weak."Conscious, in pain."

"Ifollowed the NEXUS procedure to assess his spine before moving him inhere," Christian added. "The threat of hypothermia and surviving thenight outweighed spinal injury concerns."

"Good job, Welton," she said.

Thatwas high praise coming from Thomas. He would gloat about it back at thestation, but right now, he was relieved she hadn't spotted any problems withhis care of his cousin.

AsThomas moved toward Owen, Christian tried to get out of her way. Not an easyfeat in the cramped space.

She glanced around. "Did a hobbit design thisplace?"

"I was in a bit of a hurry," Christian admitted."After two nights, the snow's settled a bit."

"Well,this cave kept you safe and warm. And you know what they say, size doesn'treally matter." She winked at Christian, which caught him totally offguard, then she slid beside Owen. "Hello, Owen. Your cousin's been takinggood care of you."

"Youhave such pretty brown eyes." Owen stared up at her as if she wereAphrodite. "Milk chocolate with a hint of cream."

Christianstiffened. Owen must be in shock if he thought compliments would have an effecton Thomas. She wasn't interested in her looks. Not the way other women were. Sweetwords wouldn't sway Thomas, either. She wasn't the flirty type. Christian hadnever met a more challenging or unapproachable woman in his entire life. Butshe was strong and capable and here. That made her the most important person inthe world at this moment. "My cousin is a chocolatier wannabe."

"Icouldn't live without chocolate. Thank you, Owen." Thomas smiled softly,but her gaze focused in on his cuts and bruises. "I'm with OMSAR and aparamedic with Hood Hamlet Fire and Rescue. May I examine you?"

"Yeah." Owen glanced at Christian. "You nevertold me you worked with any women."

Christian tried hard not to think of her as a woman."Thomas is one of the guys."

Owen scrunched his face. "You need your eyes examined,dude."

Thomasunzipped the sleeping bag, but kept Owen covered. "What your cousin meansis all the men at the station consider me one of the guys. It's the same withthe rescue unit."

Appreciation twinkled in Owen's eyes. "Idiots."

Thomas shrugged. "It's easier that way."

Christianfound himself nodding, but he wondered if she meant easier on her or the menshe worked with. He'd never given any thought to how being one of the guysmight make Thomas feel. But then again, he'd never once seen her attempt toshow her feminine side. She didn't fuss with makeup or jewelry.

As she examined his ankle, Owen winced. "Stillidiots."

Christian stared at his cousin. "You realize you justcalled me an idiot."

"Yep,"Owen said through clenched teeth. "Gotta side with the pretty paramedic inhopes she has pain meds in her bag."

Thomas's eyes twinkled, making her look prettier. "Oh,I have lots of good stuff in here."

"Knew it." Anticipation laced Owen's words.

Okay, so his cousin was flirting to get pain meds. Except…

Owendidn't need to charm medication out of Thomas. He would receive pain meds nomatter what. He was flirting to flirt. Thomas didn't seem to mind, either. Thatwas…strange.

Notthat what his cousin did was any of his business. Thomas, either. But if anyonewas going to get to flirt with her, it should be the guy still on his feet.

Christmas Redemption - Part 30

2011-11-28T00:01:00.000-08:00

This story is my Holiday Gift to Readers. You can download the entire novella for free from Smashwords, Kindle, Nook, and iBook

Chapter Eight

Van hunched inside his coat on the wagon seat, trying tohide from the bitter cold wind as he drove to the ranch. He wanted to bringTessa with him, to take his mind off his reception, but she’d kept her distancesince he told her he’d wait for her. And wait he would until she came around tohis way of thinking. They belonged together. He felt it in the way her body fithis and her passionate kisses.

He’d left her in charge of the shop. She’d proven a quicklearner the day before, determining feet size and making transactions. She wasgood for him emotionally, physically, and financially. He just had to make hersee he was good for her.

The leafless cottonwood trees appeared stark and ominoushovering around the farm house. The two-story structure held pleasant memories.His mother’s cooking and laughter. Would she welcome him back or follow herhusband’s lead? His stomach knotted, and he once again wished Tessa were by hisside.

A multi-colored mutt ran out of the barn barking. Half-wayto the wagon he stopped and looked back toward the barn. A girl of about eightstrolled out of the building wrapped in a heavy coat, scarf, and mittens.

“Button. Stop barking,” she said when he stopped the wagonin front of the house. His mother’s eyes stared at him from the child’s face.This was his sister Grace.

“Is your ma or pa home?” he asked uncertain what to do. Hewanted to pick her up and hug her, but reasoned she wouldn’t care for astranger grabbing her.

“Ma’s in the kitchen. Christmas is coming.” She put a handon the dog’s head.

“It sure is. How about you take me to the house then rustleyour ma out of the kitchen so I can talk with her?” He started walking to thefamiliar front door.

Grace grabbed his hand. “We can’t go in that door. Ma doesn’tlike snow on her wool rug.” She tugged him to the back of the house.

Van smiled and allowed his sister to haul him around to theback of the house. The garden patch looked larger. And the cellar which he’dhelp dig was grown over sprouting pale weeds through the six inches of snow.

Grace pulled the screen door open, then shoved the door intothe kitchen. Familiar aromas wafted around Van’s head. He sniffed and savoredeach spicy nuance.

His ma turned. “Grace, shut the door, I have bread ris—”

Ma was the same other than gray wisps in her dark brownhair. She blinked, and her hands clasped in front of her chest.

“Hello, Ma.”

“Van?” She took a step toward him. He smiled and nodded, andshe lunged into his arms, crying.

He hugged her tight as tears burned his eye sockets. Hisheart, that had been torn in two when he never heard from her, slowly meldedback together. “I’ve missed you,” he said, holding on, wishing he had all thoseyears back.

She drew out of his arms and studied him. “My, you turnedinto one handsome man.” She wiped at the tears on her face with her apron. Thenmotioned to Grace. “Come say hello to your big brother.” His mother’s smilewarmed him like a toasty fire on a cold day.

“My brother? I thought pa said—” Grace stared up at himquizzically.

“Your pa doesn’t know everything.” Ma motioned to the table.“Sit and tell me why you didn’t write and what you’re up to.”

Anger raced through him. He’d been right about his pa notgiving his letters to her. He took the seat and watched her move to the stove. “Actually,I wrote to you every year on your birthday.”

She spun around and faced him. “You did?”

“Yes. At first I wondered why you didn’t write back. Then Ifigured Pa wasn’t giving you the letters, but I wrote them anyway. I didn’twant him to think I’d given up.”

She placed the coffee in front of him and ran her handthrough his hair like she’d done when he was small. Leaning down she kissed hisforehead. “I’m so glad you got your pa’s stubborn streak.” She hurried acrossto the stove and pulled a tray of cookies out of the oven. “And you’re here forChristmas.”

“Where’s Pa?” He wanted to have it out with the man.

Friday Facts- Nez Perce

2011-11-25T00:01:00.000-08:00

When the soldiers decided the nontreaty Nez Perce must go to the reservation it was June 1877. The Wallowa Nez Perce started the 4 month 1,100 mile flight to freedom.

During the skirmishes and travel 111 whites lost their lives and 96 Nez Perce were killed. Thirty-six of those women and children.

When the Nez Perce finally surrendered they believed they would be sent back to their beloved home but they would not see Idaho or Oregon for seven years.

My third book in the Spirit trilogy, Spirit of the Sky will be out in 2012. It is set during the flight of the Nez Perce looking for freedom.

Blurb:

Sa-qan, the eagle spirit entrusted with watching the Nimiipuufrom above, must show herself in human form to save her mortal niece. As theNimiipuu are being forced from their land by the U.S. Army, Sa-qan challengesthe restrictions of her spirit world and finds an unexpected ally in a handsomeCavalry officer.

Lt. Wade Watts, a veteran of the Civil War, offers to helpthe blonde woman he encounters hiding a Nez Perce child, certain the woman is acaptive. While her intelligent eyes reveal she understands his language, sherefuses his help. To save her from oppression, he must save her whole tribe. Togive her his heart, he must desert his career.

Wednesday Guest- Cate Masters

2011-11-23T00:01:00.000-08:00

What attributeswould you give your perfect hero?

Everyone has their own version ofthe perfect hero. For some, he’s tall and handsome, a guy who oozes charm. Forothers, maybe a playful guy with a great sense of humor. Others might prefer aworldly man, knowledgable about many different cultures.

What if you could create a guy withall these traits? Someone sweet but tough, gorgeous but not conceited, a guywho appreciates a woman for who she is?

In Romancing the Hero, that’s theguy romance writer Jody Feather creates. For her novels. She never expects tomeet such a man in real life.

Especially notJake Emerson. Her hero. From her novels!

But is it really Jake? He certainlyhas all her hero’s mannerisms, and knows intimate details of her books. And hesure embodies Jake’s physical self exactly as she’d imagined.

Jody’s logicsays one thing. But her heart says another. Which is right?

Does it matter?

Maybe you shouldwatch the book video before you decide. :)

So who wouldyour perfect hero be? Does he resemble anyone familiar?

Visit my blog to see who Ienvisioned as Jody and Jake, and to read the blurb, excerpt and other goodies: http://catemasters.blogspot.com/2009/08/romancing-hero-contemporary-fantasy.html

Thanks so muchfor having me at your blog, Paty! Always a pleasure.

CateMasters has made beautiful central Pennsylvania her home, but she’ll always bea Jersey girl at heart. When not spending time with her dear hubby, she can befound in her lair, concocting a magical brew of contemporary, historical, andfantasy/paranormal stories with her cat Chairman Maiow and dog Lily as company.Look for her at http://catemasters.blogspot.com, and in strange nooks andfar-flung corners of the web.

Cateloves to hear from readers. Email her at: cate.masters@gmail.com

Christmas Redemption- Part 29

2011-11-21T00:01:00.000-08:00

This story is my Holiday Gift to Readers. You can download the entire novella for free from Smashwords, Kindle, Nook, and iBook

Her lips tingled and her head buzzed.

Van pulled back and stared.

Tessa licked her lips, tasting him, lingering on thesensation of his lips against hers.

Van groaned, wrapped an arm around her and crushed heragainst his chest. Fighting him didn’t even enter her mind. She circled herarms around his neck and offered her lips. His descended with slow agonizingpurpose. His supple flesh touched hers and a thousand stars blinked behind hereyes.

She’d kissed few boys and even less men. The sensation ofhis pliant lips on hers made her gasp. Mercy!His tongue slipped between her lips and sent her reeling once more. She couldn’tget close enough, taste enough.

Van drew back and she whimpered. The pathetic soundricocheted in her head and slapped her back to the present. What was she doing?She pushed out of his arms and stood.

“I’m sorry.” He held his hands up like a victim in arobbery.

She almost laughed. It was she who had been robbed. Robbedof her senses once his lips touched hers.

“No, I should never have sat on the bed. I know better.” Shemoved to the table and fiddled with the utensils, avoiding his gaze.

His scent told her he stood only inches away. He placed hishands on her shoulders and made her face him. She refused to gaze into hiseyes. When she did her body did things without thinking.

“You didn’t do anything wrong by sitting on the bed. Icouldn’t stand sleeping on the floor one night, but I’ll do it again and allowyou to sleep in the bed.”

She tipped her head back and stared at him. “No. I couldn’ttake your bed. It’s not right.”

“It’s not right allowing you to sleep on the floor whenthere is a perfectly good bed right here. After we eat, I want you to go getyour things. You’ll sleep in here, and I’ll sleep in the back room until Ifigure out a way to sneak another bed in here.” He moved away, rubbing a handacross the back of his neck. “I should have thought of this sooner. The flooris no place for a woman to sleep.”

“But it’s your building, your bed. I can’t—”

He placed a finger on her lips stopping her argument. “It ismy building, my bed, and my say. You will sleep here.”

She tried to argue, but he gathered her close and kissedher, sweeping all thoughts away once more. When he gradually drew away, sheswayed and slithered onto the closest chair with Van’s help.

When she’d collected her thoughts, she glared at him sittingacross from her and smiling as he dished food onto her plate.

“That’s sneaky. Kissing me to keep me quiet.” She picked upa fork and swirled it in her mashed potatoes.

“It works and I enjoyed it.” He raised a brow and stoppedher heart with a crooked smile.

“You’re my boss. We can’t…”

“Can’t what?” He took a bite of the roast. “Enjoy workingtogether.”

She shoved her foodaround on the plate. “No. I mean, you can’t keep kissing me. It’s not proper.”She blushed as her blood surged remembering the feel of his lips on hers.

“What if I refrain during business hours?” He put the forkdown and took hold of her left hand. “I don’t want to chase you away.” He waveda finger between them. “I think we’re good for one another. Don’t shut out thepossibility.”

She swallowed the lump creeping up her throat. The sincerityglistening in his eyes and warming his voice squeezed her chest and heated herblood. “W-what possibilities,” she whispered.

“Us. A future. I know we’ve only known each other a coupleof days, not counting as children, and I don’t want you to think I’d hold youback from your plans.” He rubbed a thumb across her knuckles, dropped his gazeto their joined hands. “When you get your teaching certificate and head out toteach, I’ll be here when you get back.” His gaze rested on her face. “If that’swhat you want.”

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. He was proposing. Sheshook her head. A couple of kisses, really good kisses, and he thought she’djust jump into his arms and marry him? She witnessed what her mother wentthrough mourning her father. She wouldn’t go through that torture, wouldn’t putchildren through that torture.

Tessa pushed to her feet, tearing her hand from his andknocking the chair over. “I-I. I have to leave.” She blindly rushed to thedoor.

“No!” His hand shot out holding the door shut. “Where areyou going? What scares you about marrying me?” He grasped her shoulders andshook her. “Do you still blame me for your father’s death?” The agony in hisvoice riveted her gaze to his face.

“No.” She placed a hand on his cheek. “No. I’ve never blamedyou for his death. I can’t—You’d never understand. You had to have lived throughwhat I did to understand.” She pried at his fingers holding her tight but nothurting.

“Help me understand.”

“No, just let me go.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know… somewhere to think. To get away from you andthink.”

He let her go, grabbed a coat from a peg by the door and hishat. “You get your things and sleep up here. I’ll be back later and will sleepdownstairs. If you’re in your pallet, I’ll sleep with you.”

The threat and gleam in his eyes told her he would, too.

He left without glancing back. She sat on the bed and huggedher ribs. What was she to do? She needed the job, wanted to remain with him,but could she and not become her mother?

Friday Facts - Turkeys

2011-11-18T00:01:00.000-08:00

Since there is a certain holiday coming up that is more or less all about the Turkey I thought I'd share some interesting trivia I came across about the strange bird that is so tasty.

Without turkeys, Big Bird would be naked. Big Bird, of Sesame Street fame, is actually dressed in turkey feathers. Although he is not a turkey, his costume is made of nearly 4,000 white turkey feathers, which have been dyed bright yellow.

In England, during the 1700's, turkeys were walked to market in large herds. Turkey farmers often covered the birds' feet with little booties to protect them on the long journey to the London market.

Ben Franklin thought the North American wild turkey should be the national bird.

Only the adult male turkey makes the gobbler, gobble sound.

Some say that turkey name came from the sound turkeys make when they are afraid - "turk, turk, turk."

Some fun farm thoughts:

As a child we had turkeys. There was one unreasonable cuss who would chase me back into the yard when I wanted to go to the barn or out to see the other animals. Some days I'd get halfway to my destination and here that Tom would come gobbling like crazy and running that swaying gait all two-legged creatures have. My heart would pump, I'd screech, and take off for the house as fast as my chubby legs would take me. Luckily he never did get a hold of me.

One year when our children were growing up, my husband brought home a half dozen turkeys. We ended up with only two surviving. The white one was called Christmas and the brown one was Thanksgiving. Their friends thought the names were funny until our kids went to school and said we ate Thanksgiving for Thanksgiving and Christmas for Christmas.

Source: http://urbanext.illinois.edu/turkey/history.cfm

Wednesday Guest- Genie Gabriel

2011-11-16T00:01:00.000-08:00

First of all, I want to thank Paty for having me as a guest on her blog. I enjoy her books and admire the dedication and hard work she shows to writing. It's truly an honor to be here.

For years I've been fascinated by the puzzle of why some people collapse under life's traumas and others emerge triumphantly stronger. In a job surrounded by social workers and in my personal life, I saw the effects of child abuse, incest, and violence. Yet amid the stark realities of addictions, anger, abandonment, denial and betrayal shone the bright light of strength, hope and forgiveness. These triumphs of the human spirit over the ugliest of adversities became the basis for my stories. My passion for writing romance stories became an outlet for the powerful messages that people can overcome great difficulties, and that true love can turn life’s heartaches into happily ever after.

Why did you choose to write about old rock and roll singers?

To back up a few steps, who ever thought rock and roll singers would get old? When I was a teenager, I would have called anyone crazy who said there would be 60-year-old rock and roll singers. But they exist! They tour! They rock!

There are several reasons I wrote stories about aging rockers. Like many teenagers, one of my first crushes was on rock singers. You can build a fantasy around them and not deal with the messiness of real relationships. :)

When I started writing, I went back to those fantasies and asked a writer's classic question, "What if?"

What if a young woman's fantasy romance with a rock star came true? What if it wasn't a fantasy, but turned into a tragedy? What if fifteen years later the woman was wiser and the rock star had learned from his mistakes? What if they got a second chance to find love--real love this time? Those "what if" questions generated THE ROCK STAR, the first of my Rock and Romance trilogy that was re-issued November 1.

As I was writing that book, the secondary characters also developed and hooked me on telling their own stories, as they do many times.

THE BODYGUARD was a silent, sexy man whose tragic first marriage left deep emotional wounds. I couldn't leave him wounded. His sense of honor and loyalty demanded he find a happily-ever-after with a woman whose courage in dealing with her own trauma offered a chance for him to heal from his past. This book developed into what my first editor called "a feel-good Christmas story," complete with cute kids who believe in angels, a mongrel dog devoted to those kids, and a miracle on Christmas morning. I'm delighted THE BODYGUARD will be re-issued on November 15, in time to enjoy this story again for the holidays.

THE LEADER OF THE BAND is the book that most explores an aging rock singer's life. The hero starts out as the antagonist in the first book of the trilogy, but makes great strides toward redeeming himself. His own story completes that redemption as he and the woman he has loved since they were both teenagers peel away the superficial layers of the lives they have led. What they discover is the true love they have longed for but pushed away. I'm pleased the re-issue of this book will be available December 1.

Why do you write romance?

I want a happy ending. I know there are subgenres that wrap up a "satisfying ending." But as a romance writer and reader, I want a happy ending.

The number of subgenres is another reason I write romance. Family drama, mystery, action/adventure or a deeply searching emotional journey can all be included in a romantic story.

What are you working on now?

A new series of at least nine books scheduled to start releasing March 2012. The LEGACY series will feature eight adopted children determined to continue their father's legacy. As they uncover secrets leading to the truth that killed their policeman father, the action, romance and family drama heat up.

EXCERPT from THE BODYGUARD

Two weeks before Christmas, Mitch decided he had waited long enough.

"Come on, mutt." Mitch grabbed his coat and a pair of work gloves. "Let’s go find the twins."

Gabe bounded to his feet and bumped the doorknob with his nose. He sniffed and marked around the yard while Mitch pulled the Ferrari out of the garage. As soon as the dog jumped into the car, Mitch drove to a lot selling Christmas trees. He selected one that would fit nicely in Julia’s small apartment and strapped it to the top of the car.

The mutt hung his head out the window, riding in silent watchfulness until the apartment building was in sight. "Woof!"

"You have to be quiet or we’ll get caught smuggling you in." Under cover of the falling twilight and a bushy evergreen tree, Mitch and the dog walked quickly toward Julia’s apartment.

As soon as Julia opened the door, the dog pushed inside and sniffed out the twins, quickly falling back into their game of hide and seek. Within seconds, the twins’ giggles let Julia know the dog had found the children.

"I brought a tree." Mitch stood the evergreen upright.

"I see that." Julia bit her lip as she walked around the tree. "Nice choice. Bushy all around."

"I had three picky sisters who trained me in the fine art of Christmas tree selection."

Julia smiled. "They trained you well."

"I thought we could decorate it tonight and maybe have cookies and hot chocolate."

The wistful look on Mitch’s face tugged at Julia’s heart. She didn’t want to disappoint him--or miss the chance to spend time with him. "That would be great. Except..."

"Except?"

"All the decorations were left behind."

Understanding dawned in Mitch’s eyes. "I’m sorry, Julia. I didn’t think--I’ll go buy some."

"Wait--" Julia didn’t want to owe Mitch anything more, and she couldn’t afford to buy decorations for an entire tree right now. "Let’s make decorations. We have construction paper for paper chains and snowflakes, and we can pop corn to string together. I haven’t done that in years. It will be fun."

"How about the angel for the top?" Mitch asked.

Julia tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Origami. We can do a fancy folded paper one." She hoped.

"Sounds great to me." Mitch took off his jacket. "I did remember a stand."

While Mitch set the tree in the stand, Julia gathered supplies for ornaments and explained to the twins what they were going to do. The twins were delighted, as they hadn’t been allowed to touch the fussy tinsel and glass ornaments on the tree in the West Hills house. Just one more reminder of how suppressed her children’s joy had been. Julia much preferred this homemade Christmas tree.

The tiny apartment soon became littered with scraps of paper, as loops of red and green chains took shape. The popping of corn rattled a cheerful accompaniment to the giggles of the twins as Julia brought another bowl of popcorn for Mitch to add to the string the dog snitched pieces from.

"Why don’t you just give him some popcorn?" Julia asked.

"He won’t eat it except off the string." Mitch threw a disgusted look toward the dog. "It must be a new game."

Julia turned away to hide her smile. The tree was shaping up beautifully, even if Angelina insisted on hanging all her handmade ornaments on the same three branches. "Anyone want refills on hot chocolate?"

When Julia returned from the kitchen, the room had grown quiet.

"Your helpers are asleep," Mitch said.

The twins lay curled like cherubs next to the dog beneath the spreading limbs of the now decorated tree.

"Do you want to move them to bed?" Mitch asked.

Julia nodded. Soon the twins were settled in their beds for the night.

"Sometimes I just want to watch my children." Julia’s heart swelled with joy as she gazed at Abraham and Angelina. "If I could have one thing for Christmas, I’d ask for my children to be safe."

Julia and Mitch lapsed into silence for a moment, absorbing the innocence of the twins as they slept. "What would you ask for, Mitch?"

Mitch stared at Julia for a moment longer. His gaze caressed every inch of her face and finally settled on her mouth. "A kiss from you."

Startled, Julia tried to cover a thrill of excitement by folding her hands primly in front of her. "That’s all?"

"Maybe that kiss could be delivered early." The hunger in Mitch’s eyes generated a tingle between Julia’s breasts.

"Maybe it could." Julia didn’t believe the words slipped from her mouth. However, the expectant look in Mitch’s eyes confirmed Julia had spoken her thoughts aloud. And now she felt honor-bound to carry through. She could do this without acting like a fool. It was just a kiss, right?

LINKS

http://www.GenieGabriel.com (my author Web site)

http://rockandromance.blogspot.com (a special blog for the Rock and Romance series)

Thank you again for having me as a guest on your blog!

Christmas Redemption - Part 28

2011-11-14T00:01:00.000-08:00

This story is my Holiday Gift to Readers. You can download the entire novella for free from Smashwords, Kindle, Nook, and iBook

Chapter Seven

The snow continued to fall all afternoon. Van noticed fewerpeople milling about the street as he walked back to the shop with dinner. Theshop was set up. His tools ready and the inventory set out. He’d ordered lumberto be delivered to the back of the store in the morning. When the man raised aneyebrow at the amount, Van told him it was for storage shelves in the backroom. He would build shelves, but first he had to make a partition. Every timehe was close to Tessa he had to touch her. If it didn’t stop he’d be slippingdown the stairs at night and watching her sleep. A partition would enable herto lock him out.

Warm air gushed around him when he opened the door. Tessastood on an upturned crate, hanging curtains. He slammed the door shut with hisfoot, dropped the basket of food on the floor, and rushed to her side.

“You should have waited for me to help with this.” He heldonto her waist, steadying her

“It seemed like an easy task when I contemplated it.” Shestretched, standing on tiptoe, placing the curtain pole in the wooden bracket. “Done.”

He lifted her down and kept an arm around her waist as theystudied the curtains.

“Very nice. Beth did a fine job sewing them, and you did anexcellent job hanging them.” He didn’t want to let her go, her body felt righttucked beside his. She moved out of his arm and fidgeted with a matching clothon the display table in the window.

“I think we’re done here for the night. Take this upstairs,and I’ll lock up and turn down the lanterns.” He picked up the basket andhanded it to her. Their hands touched. He glanced at her face. She felt thesame jolt he did when they touched. He read it in her surprise and the spark inher eyes.

The weight of the basket left his hand, and she headed forthe backroom. Actually, she flew across the room as though something chasedher.

What was it about this woman that attracted him? He’d onlythought of her occasionally while in prison, and then only as the child he’dknown. The minute he set his gaze on her in the saloon he’d felt the air suckout of him, leaving him light-headed and happy.

He snapped the lock on the front door, turned off thekerosene lamp, walked through the back room breathing in her scent of lilac,and locked the back door before turning the lamp in the storage room down low.He listened to her scurrying feet above him.

This could be his life.A good living, a warm, loving wife. Even children eventually. He started up thestairs. He’d found the woman who could give him all that, but would she? Herlife was planned out, could she see the benefits of changing her course? Of marryingan ex-outlaw?

****

Tessa set out the plates and food and waited. Her gazewandered to the bed sitting in the corner where the blankets and been. It wouldbe heaven to sleep in a bed again. Her feet took her across the room and shesat. Then bounced. It was soft and gave under her weight, so unlike theunyielding floor. She flopped back and enjoyed the way the feather tickembraced her. Before her father’s death she’d slept in just such a bed. But astimes became harder and harder they sold off the good furniture or used it forthe boarders.

Footsteps sounded. She shot to a sitting position as Vanwalked through the door. He smiled.

“You like the bed?” He crossed the room and sat beside her.

Heat scorched her body and her belly quivered. His scent waftedaround her. “Y-yes. It’s quite soft.”

He grasped her hand. “I’m going to get you one as soon as Ifigure out how without causing gossip.”

His sincere eyes gazed into hers. Heat curled through Tessa.She sighed and enjoyed the sensation.

Van leaned closer. Of a will of its own, her body canted hisdirection.

His dark brown eyes held her hostage, scorching her insideswith their intimacy.

Tessa’s heart pounded in her chest and her breathingstopped. Before she could suck in air, his lips touched hers. A soft whisper ofa touch.

Friday Facts- Virginia City, Montana

2011-11-11T00:01:00.000-08:00

Facts about Virginia City, Montana

The first public school in Montana opened in Virginia City in 1866. The Madison County Courthouse was built in 1876. The first company of the Montana National Guard organized in Virginia City in 1885.

The first newspaper in the territory, the Montana Post, printed its first issue in August of 1864. Today's local newspaper, the Madisonian, began publication in 1873.

The displays in Virginia and Nevada Cities differ from other outdoor museums in that they are interspersed within a living community and house the largest collection of old-west artifacts outside of the Smithsonian.

Why am I giving you facts about Virginia City? Because I received a very high compliment this week on my book Improper Pinkerton. Part of the book is set in Virginia City and a reader asked me if I'd been there because my portrayal of it was so real.

Unfortunately I didn't have the time to go to Montana when I wrote Improper Pinkerton even though the whole book is set in that state. I did, however, use Google Earth, Sanborn maps, and the Montana Historical Society to help me learn about the areas of my story in the late 1800's.

Blurb for Improper Pinkerton

An impetuous Pinkerton agent is out to prove to a righteousUS Marshal that she's the best "man" to complete the assignment andthe only "woman" who can capture his heart.

Mae Simon is on her first assignment as a Pinkerton operativeand determined nothing will stand in her way of accomplishing her task. Whenthe simple assignment turns into a murder and kidnapping, she has to stophiding behind her disguises and trust a man she’s betrayed.

U. S. Marshal Beck Harlan can’t afford to befriend anyone.Not with a vengeance seeking outlaw killing off his intimate acquaintances.Yet, he falls hard for the French prostitute he talks into being an informant,not realizing she is a Pinkerton operative after the same man.

Excerpt:

Beck couldn’t believe his luck. The French girl stood at thetop of the stairway. Sally had said she’d send the woman to him when she wasavailable, but that was fast. He started forward, and she scampered down thestairs. He caught her from behind, sliding an arm around the curve of herwaist, and hauled her back up to the room he’d just left.

“Unhand me you buffoon!”

He spun her and lowered his head, covering her mouth withhis—just to keep her quiet. She stopped fighting. Her body went lax, and hemolded her soft contours to his, drawing out the kiss. His heart hammered inhis chest. Her arms entwined his neck. His hands roamed up and down herclothing. There were no restraining garments underneath. Only thin fabricbetween his skin and her round bottom. He reached around to the front andcupped her breast. She was a hand full.

Her palms flattened against his chest, and she pushed out ofhis grasp. He let her go physically, but his mind was back kissing her.

“Monsieur, you have not paid for that privilege!” Her goldenbrown eyes lacked the scolding of her words. He peered down at her moist lipsand wanted to drag her back into his arms. He hadn’t needed a woman in sometime, but this woman…lured him.

She spun away and stepped toward the door. She couldn’t leave.They still had to talk. He stepped around her, blocking her exit. His armscrossed over his chest to avoid reaching out to her again. Staring down at thetop of her head, he waited. She slowly lifted her chin and stared at him.

“I must find Sally.” She raised her hands as though to pushhim aside, then dropped them to her hips when he didn’t budge.

“I just need a few minutes of your time.”

She held out a hand, palm up.

“What?”

“You, monsieur, wish my time. You will pay for it.” Shewiggled her fingers.

He narrowed his eyes. He didn’t know what game this womanplayed. A moment ago she’d participated in a steaming kiss just as much as hehad, and now she wanted paid for her time?

“Now listen here, I’m not paying to talk to you.”

“But, monsieur, you did more than talk when you,” her faceblushed prettily, “dragged me into this room.”

“I only did that to keep you from screaming.”

“Screaming? I did not scream.” She cocked her head to oneside as though sizing him up.

“You were about to.”

“Non. You took lee-ber-tees.”

He ran a hand over his face. Was she about to scream or didhe take liberties? Now, he wasn’t so sure he didn’t kiss her because he’d beenthinking of it all night as she flirted with Lamont.

That was the cold water he needed. Knowing she’d been withLamont moments before.

“I need you to do me a favor.”

There she went with the palm and waggling fingers, again.

“I don’t need that kind of favor.” He pulled his badge outof his vest pocket. “I’m a U.S. Marshal.”

Her eyes widened, and her full lips formed a perfect ‘O’before she uttered in her breathy sigh, “But monsieur, surely I have donenothing wrong.”

Her seductive voice and eyes feigning innocence played havocwith his control. He knew she flirted. He felt it in every inch of his body. Anddamn if he didn’t want to flirt back.

“I’d say working in this place gives me grounds to suspect…”She stepped closer, pressing her body against his and igniting desires he’dheld at bay the last three years.

“S’il vous plait, do not take me to your jail. I would getcold and lonely there.” She ran her hands up his chest and looped them aroundhis neck, stretching her body the full length of him.

He wrapped his hands around her waist, holding her againsthim. His body responded to her unlike any other woman. He rested his foreheadon hers and took a deep breath.

Business. He had to keep this a business arrangement. Forher sake. And his.

Purchase Links: Kindle, Smashwords, Nook

www.patyjager.net

Fact Source: http://www.virginiacity.com/#fun_facts

WEdnesday Guest- Nikki Broadwell

2011-11-09T00:01:00.000-08:00

Mycollege education centered on English and Art and by the time I graduated I hadbasically a B.A. in both. By that time I was married with two children. During my two girl’s middle grade years, I started a greeting card business andthen later, when they were out of the house I began a silk painting business,continuing for over twenty years. But writing was always at the back of my mindand I finally had to allow the stories onto paper. Now it is a full-timepursuit, sometimes taking up ten to twelve hours of the day.

WolfMoon Trilogy has been percolating since I was a young girl wandering thedappled light of the hardwood forests of East Virginia. The Blue RidgeMountains, always in the distance, bear an uncanny resemblance to the mountainsin the book.

Thethree books span three generations of strong women, taking us from Scotland in1983 to New England, 2009 and then back to Scotland. Not only t is a coming ofage story, with several love-stories woven through it, it is also an epic battlebetween the forces of dark and light.

Blurb for The Moonstone:

Finna’s mother isdead. So why is this woman standing on her stoop claiming to be just that?Catriona arrives bearing a gift—a luminous moonstone that holds the secrets toFinna’s heritage. What heritage? Before Finna can form a question,Catriona is telling her all about a journey the two of them must make to thecastle of the Celtic moon goddess, Arianrhod.

Moon goddess?

The storyCatriona weaves is preposterous. A parallel reality, known as the ‘Otherworld’,exists right next to this one. According to the woman’s description, this placeis stuck somewhere in the past, with no electricity, cars or any other modernconveniences.

“The moonstonewill show the way,” Catriona intones cryptically.

Newly pregnantFinna is naturally skeptical. Where has this woman been for the past eighteenyears? And why would her father lie about her mother’s death? All her instinctstell her to stay put during this critical time. But Catriona is uncannilypersuasive, convincing her despite all of Finna’s misgivings.

What a tripthrough this alternate reality really means, and the secrets Catriona revealsas they travel, have Finna questioning everything she has ever known. With herlife and that of her unborn child in jeopardy, Finna must find a way tosurvive.

Set in aparallel reality in Scotland, The Moonstone takes the reader on a magicaljourney through a world filled with uncanny beings and landscapes filled withlight. But darkness approaches, a malevolence has broken the protections andthreatens the innocent beings who live here in harmony.

Finnacarries the key but will she make it safely to her destination? The moongoddess, Arianrhod waits in her castle, unable to change the course of events.

Excerpt:

As Finna’s fingers closed around thestone she thought she felt a slight pulse coming from it. Light played acrossthe surface in amber lines that moved and changed. She placed it on the table.

“Look into the stone, Finna. As yecan see, ‘tis nae large enough to show an entire map but it can show smallsections in its reflective surface; ‘tis how they managed to find their way.”

Finna hesitated for a second before shepicked it up again. As she peered into the milky surface a tiny line began toemerge.

“Ye see? ‘Tis the trail we mustfollow.”

The line meandered across the stone’ssurface like a fissure. Finna dropped it on the table with a shudder. “That isjust creepy.” Was Catriona asking her to go on some sort of pilgrimage? Thelittle lines were gone now. She must have imagined them.

The book will be coming to Amazon and Kindle very soon.

Links:

http://niksblog-authorinprogress.blogspot.com

https://twitter.com/#!/nikkibroadwell

http://www.facebook.com/pages/The Moonstone

and coming soon: my website which will be: www.wolfmoontrilogy.com

Another Interruption

2011-11-06T19:35:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry to interrupt Christmas Redemption again. This time it's all my fault. I haven't scheduled this month's Monday posts yet and while in Princeton over the weekend, I forgot the flash drive with Christmas Redemption on it.Having the flash drive wouldn't have helped anyway because my phone hotspot wasn't working.

There was snow on the ground-about 2 inches-and snowing this morning while we finished building fence. It felt like Christmas with the large flakes falling, the snow coating the sagebrush, and the cold, crisp air.

On the way home the truck hauling 7 ton of hay stopped working. My husband tried to figure out the problem while I took the dogs for a walk. When he couldn't figure it out we called a friend to tow us. We arrived home later than we'd planned and were pleased to see our wonderful neighbor had fed the animals when he realized we weren't home.

Good neighbors are a treasure. Our neighbors in Princeton had us over for a lovely dinner on Saturday night. Thank you Karen and John! And thank you for the onions and apples!

Friday Fact- Soiled Dove Vacations

2011-11-04T00:01:00.000-07:00

While reading the book Soiled Doves- Prostitution in the Early West I discovered that the "city" prostitutes would go on "vacation" in the summer time to the mountains where it was cooler and the sheep herders and cowboys were hanging out taking care of livestock in the upper regions.

Then while driving around the Steens Mountains in SE Oregon my husband and I came upon Happy Meadow in an area where sheep or cattle would have been summered. My imagination went to work and I came up with a short story that released this week with The Wild Rose Press in their Love Letters Series.

Schooling Miss Burke is a fun short read that I hope leaves a smile on your face when you finish. I enjoyed writing this story because of the inspiration and the characters.

Blurb for Schooling Miss Burke
A letter from home shatters politician Caleb Jamison's world, returning him to his empty family home and cattle ranch.

Hettie Burke's life takes a life-altering turn when she becomes the parent of her twin niece and nephew. Looking for work, she stumbles upon a covey of soiled doves on vacation and learns sometimes fate takes precedence over best-laid plans.

Excerpt:

“It’s late and I need to check on the children.” Hettie stepped away from the man, but he kept his grip on her elbow.

“Allow me to escort you to the wagon. I’d hate to have you trip again.” He stopped at the back wagon wheel. “Will you be here tomorrow?”

Her thoughts all jumbled together. She shouldn’t remain with these women, it wasn’t a good example for the children, but she was tired of traveling on her own. The company was welcome. And then the strange attraction she felt for this man…

“We should continue. I’m expected for a teaching job.”

“There isn’t a school open right now, it’s harvesting time. Stay a couple days.” He slid a hand down her arm. He raised her knuckles to his lips. His warm breath moistened the back of her hand as he kissed her. “I’d like to get to know you better.”

Tendrils of excitement swirled up her arm and warmed her chest. “I’ll think about it.” She withdrew her hand from his and turned to climb into the wagon.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.” His breath warmed the back of her neck and he disappeared.

Buy link: The Wild Rose Press

www.patyjager.net

Wednesday Guest- W. Lynn Chantale

2011-11-02T00:01:00.000-07:00

W. Lynn Chantale resides in southeastern Michigan. Married to her high school sweetheart, they’ve been together for the last twenty years. They have three children. She writes African-American and Interracial sensual erotic and erotic romance. She has a mad affinity for milk chocolate, preferably Dove chocolate truffles or the caramel-filled squares (Godiva and Ghiradelli are acceptable), and plays the bass guitar when the Muse begs for a bit of distraction.

What was your inspiration to write romance?

My inspiration to write romance came from reading the same plot over and over again. Seriously, how many times does the much older (34-44) uber-wealthy, ultra experienced, sizzling sexy hero need to rescue the young (18-22) innocent, super naive heroine? The only thing that really changed were the names, education level and setting. I’m all for the Alpha male, but just once I wanted a heroine who wasn’t a flake and wasn’t weak.

How do you think your degrees in baking and accounting help your writing?

You checked out my blog. :-D The accounting allows me to figure out what my taxes are on my royalty checks. I used my experience from school in an upcoming short story, Decadent Seconds. My heroine owns a catering company.

If nothing else obtaining both degrees allowed me to interact with more culturally diverse people. I don’t get to do that as much anymore.

What are you working on now?

I’m in the final edits of Mistletoe Mambo, a sensual erotic in Still Moments Christmas Anthology. I’m also tackling NaNo again. NaNo is National Novel Writing Month. 50K in 30 days. To get more info go here. http://www.nanowrimo.org/

Blurb for Breaking Delia’s Rules

Delia has just three rules for dating. First, a man should never assume he’s the only one. Second, he must stick to his scheduled day and time. Third—and most important—no sex. Enforcing the rules has never been a problem until she meets the hottie from the pool.

Jace has only five days to make every moment count. The more time he spends with Delia, the more he realizes she may be The One. With the clock ticking, he realizes there is only one course of action left to take if he wants Delia’s heart. Can he convince Delia that rules are meant to be broken?

Buy Link: http://www.breathlesspress.com/content/breaking-delias-rules

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Breaking-Delias-Rules-ebook/dp/B005TKZRI6/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1318699600&sr=8-1

Blurb forSeducing His Wife

Haunted by nightmares, Sheridan Sinclair just wants to get through one night without reliving the terrible accident that led to her miscarriage. And she longs for the arms of the man who betrayed her.

Matthew Sinclair has always loved his wife, but when she refuses to speak to him after her accident, he's left to wonder what went wrong. When a stolen kiss ignites their forgotten passion, he'll use their love as a means to get her home and in his bed again.

Will a husband’s plan of seduction be enough to heal a wife’s broken heart?

Buy Links

http://whispershome.com/erotic/seducing-his-wife/

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Seducing-His-Wife-ebook/dp/B005DOZYRC/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1311349014&sr=8-3

Contact Info

Blog: http://wlynnchantale-decadentdecisions.blogspot.com/

Email: wlynnchantale@gmail.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/wlynnchantale

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/W.LynnChantaleAuthor

Christmas Redemption- Part 27

2011-11-01T00:01:00.000-07:00

Due to the Halloween fun over the weekend, we interrupted the usual Monday excerpt. Here it is- Enjoy!

This story is my Holiday Gift to Readers. You can download the entire novella for free from Smashwords.

"Where are you staying? I wanted to talk to you other than here, andyet, this is always where you are." Beth's hands rested on her hips. Herchina doll face stared point blank at Tessa.

"Why did you need to talk to me some place other thanhere?" With luck she'd steer Bethclear of the living arrangements.

The men tromped back in with crates, deposited them, and left. Cold airswirled through the interior, racing shivers up her back and pimpling her arms.Tessa crossed to the stove and tossed in more wood.

"Because, you can't talk about your feelings for a man when he's inthe room." Beth threw her arms in the air like she'd tossed out a wholekettle of dirty dish water which was exactly how Tessa felt.

"I-I don’t have feelings for Van. We just work together."

Beth wagged a finger in front of her nose. "You two can't keep youreyes off one another and from what I've seen your bodies are migratingtogether, too."

Tessa opened her mouth to protest when the door flew open with a gust ofwind, and the men carried in three more crates.

"Grab the last two boxes, boys, and I'll give you something for yourtrouble." Van placed his crate on the floor and followed the men back tothe door, closing it behind them. "As soon as they get those boxes in here, I'll take the team backto the livery. You want a ride Beth? There's a nasty storm blowing in."

"No, I'll stay here and help Tessa." Beth unbuttoned her coatand placed it over the chair by the stove.

Tessa sent Van what she hoped was a plea that he not leave her alone.

"That's thoughtful of you, but have you finished the curtains? We'llbe opening tomorrow and it sure would be nice to have the curtains up and theplace looking spiffed up."

Tessa wanted to throw her arms around the man and thank him. But she justsent an inquiring glance Beth's direction.

The tiny woman grabbed her coat. "Oh, I didn’t realize you wereopening so soon. I'll hurry home and get them finished." She slipped herarms in her coat sleeves and narrowed her gaze on Tessa. "We'll talktomorrow when I bring the curtains."

Tessa nodded and walked Beth to the door. "I can't wait to see thecurtains hung."

Beth swept out the door and Tessa closed it firmly.

"What does she want to talk to you about?" Van asked as thescreech of nails rent the air. He pried the lid off a crate by the workbench.

She walked to his side and stared into the crate. The tools of his tradewere wrapped in various sizes of leather. "I can't wait to watch you makea boot."

He studied her. "What did Beth want?"

He sure could hold onto a thought.

"She was trying to find out where I’m staying."

"Do you trust her?"

"What do you mean?"

Van put a hand on her arm. He touched her every time they were close thismorning. Not that she minded, In fact, she liked the heat of his touch. Toomuch.

"It might help to let her know you are living here. She could wardoff others wondering."

She'd never had a confidante before other than her mother. Now she had two- Beth and Van. "I thinkonce she got over the initial shock, she'd be willing to help me keep upproprieties." She shrugged. "It's no different than if we were in aboarding house."

"True." He frowned. "Except you're sleeping on thefloor."

"I really don’t mind. I'm used to it." She wanted to place apalm on his clean shaven face. She settled for inhaling his scent of soap andmale.

His gaze lingered on her face before his shoulders heaved a resignedshrug. "I best get the team back to the livery before the stormhits."

"Yes, we better get to work if we plan to open tomorrow." Shedrew away from him and back to the crates of boots. Van hurried out the door, closing it snugglybehind him.

If they opened tomorrow, what about her partition in the back room? Shecould use another wall between them. Sheknew nothing of the physical attraction between a man and woman. Her mothertalked of her love for Tessa's father, but never anything about the way Tessa'sbody heated and wanted to be near Van.

But she knew once their lips met, her mind would go blank and there wasno telling what would happen after that.

Treats For All!

2011-10-28T00:01:00.000-07:00

In case you didn't see the Blog Hop logo in my sidebar...
I'm one of... 113 authors who are part of this blog hop. And we're all giving away goodies over the weekend and through Halloween night. If you click on the logo on my sidebar it takes you to the site where you can access all the author blogs who are participating. We are all holding a contest unique to our blog where you have to answer a question and you win a prize. Yes, a prize can be won at every author's blog! So it's Adult Trick or Treating. Knock on their blog doors and find out how you can get a treat. It's that easy!

Since it is a Halloween contest my question is: What was your favorite Halloween costume when you were a kid? And to spice it up even more- There will be a winner a day on my blog. So four people will win a treat!

Spread the word there are goodies to be had!

W Lynn Chantal you are my Friday WINNER!! e-mail me at hihocowpaty(at)yahoo(dot)com
Susan Leech you are the Saturday Winner!
MJNCarter you are my Sunday Winner!
Tammie Clark Gibbs is the Halloween Winner!

Wednesday Guest- Nancy Lennea

2011-10-26T00:01:00.000-07:00

Nancy grew up on New York's Long Island then earned a Bachelor of Science degree at a small state college amid the mountains of New Hampshire. She and her husband settled in a tiny rural town nearby, where she served as an EMT and volunteer firefighter while raising two sons. She worked many years as a 9-1-1 emergency medical dispatcher and now lives in North Carolina where she writes full-time. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Heart of Carolina Romance Writers, Celtic Heart Romance Writers, Fantasy-Futuristic & Paranormal Romance Writers, and Sisters in Crime.

Thanks forhaving me back, Paty. I hear you have a few questions concerning my latestromantic suspense, LOVE TO THE RESCUE.

Why did youwrite a romance centered around firefighters?

I lived the fantasy for many years whenI lived in a very small New Hampshire town. Rumney was a great place to raise afamily. Even to this day, it has two gas stations, a village store, a PostOffice, but no banks or traffic lights. When I lived there, we had a two-manpolice department and a volunteer rescue squad that worked alongside thevolunteer fire department. I joined both, spent many hours training, and went tomedical calls, car accidents, snowmobile rescues, and I fought house firesright alongside the guys. Those fires were tough. These were our neighbors’homes in flames! I performed CPR on several neighbors, too, which was pretty devastating,but my husband helped me overcome many of those sad times. He also joined thefire department, and drove me through terrible snowstorms since we usuallyresponded in our private vehicles. For a small town, we saw lots of action. Thememories are fresh in my head. Several are found in my book, from the carhitting a moose to the huge forest fire that nearly kills my hero, Pete, andhis partner, Josie. They are both paramedic/firefighters. They are both heroes.

You have avariety of romances. What inspires you to pick a story?

I have had stories in my head withcharacters demanding to be put to paper since I was in junior high. Life got inthe way, as it usually does, so I only started writing toward publication aftermy kids had grown and started their own lives. I write what screams theloudest! This is the main reason I chose to write under two different names. Ithought it best to separate my romantic suspense from my paranormals, but thatisn’t too big an issue today. I am proud of my unusual last name, Badger.Pretty unforgettable!

What’s nextfrom you?

That is a very tough question. I haveso many irons in the fire. A recent book I self-published has giving me anotheravenue while I wait for that perfect agent to take a chance on my career. And,this is a career. I am determined to publish the best stories I can with thetime I have left. This is what I want to do, and I really want to see my booksin print. I believe in actual paper books, though I love my e-reader. So, Iwill keep submitting unusual, highly polished, out-of-this-world anddown-to-earth stories until that happens. I admit I have a love of ScottishHighlanders, since I am married to a man of Scottish descent, but a currentstory I am ‘shopping’ has a hero who is from 1866 Paris and wakes up in presentday North Carolina. I have no idea why I chose a Frenchman, but he demanded hisown story. I made sure he has one. When it sells, I’ll be back to talk with youabout him!

LOVE TO THERESCUE

Book Blurb

The clashingrelationship between tomboy Josie Miller and fellow paramedic-firefighter, PeteThayer, escalates after he realizes Joe is not just one-of-the-boys. Pete has asketchy history and has earned a reputation for one-night stands in the smalltown of Parmenter, New Hampshire nestled between the Mercy River, themountains, and the state college. Since he arrived a year ago, Josie suspectshe is hiding something. Something too horrible to share, even with her. Workingside by side, Joe loves her job, and Pete.

They respond toaccident calls, medical emergencies, and fast-moving forest fires amid sparksof another kind. Joe’s clumsiness and baggy uniform work against her when sheyearns to be the kind of woman Pete wants like the pretty blonde they mustrescue after her car hits a moose.

Outsideinfluences come to play when the sister of Pete’s alleged victim shows up andaccuses him of something even worse…her sister’s recent death. Once on track tobe a doctor, the sister’s betrayal and lies caused Pete to run far away andkeep women at a distance unless they agreed to share his bed…and nothing more.

Pete plans to skiptown while Josie worries she has given her heart to a monster. His boss and thelocal police back off and he professes his innocence to Joe. After kissing hersenseless, she lets him into her bed until her bothers intervene. Both keep aneye on Pete. A suicide note, some well-landed fists, stolen moments of love,and a desire to listen to their hearts lead these two heroes toward a climaxfilled with tension, pain, bloodshed, and atonement.

EXCERPT

Josie listened as her brotherclomped down her stairs and out into the street. Her cheeks heated and herstomach clenched from what he’d said. Still trembling with rage, she assistedPete as he struggled to get up and sit on her small couch, then laid his headback.

“Lie still.” She ran to herbedroom and pulled on a clean uniform, tied the laces of her sneakers, andbrushed her fingers through damp hair.

“Damn. I gotta buy new workboots.” She’d miss them. Josie returnedto his side and helped him to his feet. She winced at the ugly bruise bloomingon his cheek. Together, they stumbled down her narrow stairs and into thestreet. She spied a friend climbing into her minivan, whistled, and begged herfor a ride to the firehouse.

“Damn, girl, I can walk,” Petesaid.

“It’s better than trying to walkfour blocks half–carrying you.” At the firehouse, Josie dragged Pete into thegarage. Several of the crew ran to assist.

“Put him on the couch. Keep himawake. If he passes out, let me know.” If he did, they'd high–tail it to thehospital. Josie grabbed an ice pack from the cabinet in their back–upambulance.

“I guess this older unit is nowour primary vehicle,” she sighed. Thinking back, she groaned when sheremembered the candy bar she’d left on the other rig’s console. She could use abig dose of chocolate right about now.

She returned to Pete, activatedthe portable ice pack, covered it with a wet cloth, and laid the icy contentson his face.

“Your eye socket looks painful,”she said. As if proving her correct, Pete moaned. Then the fire chief struttedinto the TV room.

“What the hell happened here?”

“Everything is under control,chief,” Josie said.

“Like Hell it is. Officer Milleris in my office with an ice pack on his knuckles. Intuition tells me this isthe other half of the argument. Am I correct?”

“They had a misunderstanding. Mybrother went off the deep end when he walked into my apartment and found Pete.Keep him away from us tonight, okay?” she pleaded.

With lips pressed togethertightly, and his eyebrows wavering, the chief nodded at her and returned to hisoffice.

Josie turned her attention backto Pete and the others, but before she could answer their puzzled faces, thechief returned and sighed.

“Gunnar would like to talk to youfor one minute.”

He waited for her reply, but sheknew that whatever she decided, he would back her. Firefighters in this townwere a big family. In fact, outside family squabbles held no weight in thefirehouse.

“No. Tell him I’m too upset afterthe day I’ve had to talk sensibly. Remind him we almost burned to death today.See if that shuts him up!”

Several firefighters gasped. Theyobviously hadn’t heard. The chief returned to his office still nodding, andJosie looked back at her co–workers.

“Please, guys, leave us betonight and I promise we’ll come back in tomorrow to give you the scoop. Let’sjust say I think we lost the ambulance, a lot of important equipment, and aboutten years off our lives.” They nodded and made their way back to theirworkstations. Josie and Pete were finally alone.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Petewhispered.

Josie kneeled next to the couchand looked at him. He had opened one eye. It gazed at her, brilliant blue likethe sea before dusk. Pleasure thrummed through and she didn’t fight the smilethat pulled at her mouth.

“So beautiful,” Pete said.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded, and sighed. When hesquirmed to change position, he groaned.

“I can’t believe my brother wentoff the deep end. Gunnar is here at the station, but I won’t talk to himtonight. All my brothers treat me like a child. He had no right to walk in onus.” She brushed a lock of hair behind his ear.

He cringed.

“You look awful,” she whispered.

“Thanks for the compliment.” Hesmiled. “I’m sorry, too. He got the right idea, I’m afraid. I was on top of youand going for the goal as they say. Well, we’ll have to wait until I can seewhat I’m kissing. Okay by you?”

LOVE TO THE RESCUE

Available from Red Rose Publishing (Buy Link: http://bit.ly/nfz4Ma)

Available from Amazon (buylink: http://amzn.to/pfC3CA)

Nancy Lennea

Website: www.nancylennea.com

Blog: www.nancylennea-inlove.blogspot.com

Nancy also writes as Nancy LeeBadger

Twitter @NLBadger

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=1683583355

Christmas Redemption - Part 26

2011-10-24T00:01:00.000-07:00

This story is my Holiday Gift to Readers. You can download the entire Novella for free from Smashwords.

Banging at the door gave her a chance to evade Beth's speculatingscrutiny. Tessa hurried to the door and opened it for Van to haul in anothercrate.

"You really should get someone else to help you unload that wagon.It's going to take you all day at this rate." Beth waved her hand at thecrate Van placed on the floor.

He straightened. "You're right. Why don’t you go see if you can finda couple men who could help me?"

Beth shook like a banty hen ruffling her feathers for a fight. "I'lldo just that as long as you don't ruin my friend's reputation." She spunon her heel and flounced out of the shop.

Tessa glanced at Van, and they both burst out laughing.

"I remember her being annoying when we were kids, but I neverdreamed she'd grow into a spitfire." Van shoved his hat back off hisforehead and wiped a hand across his eyes, swiping at the tears of mirthglistening.

Tessa stared at his actions. Everything he did exuded maleness.

"I didn't realize you two were such good friends."

"Huh?" Yearning, deep and primal wound through her, elicitingthoughts she heard Marge and Viv talk about during the slow periods at thesaloon.

"Beth, when did you and she become such good friends?"

Tessa shoved her thoughts away and raised her gaze to Van's.

"Oh, we didn't really become friends until Ma was ill. Beth's fatheris a doctor, and I spent so much time over there getting medicine and askingwhat I could do for my ma that we started talking." She lowered her lashes and stared at his feet."She was the only one who would still talk to me when I had to work at thesaloon."

"I'm glad you have a friend in Beth. For all her interfering she hasa good heart." Van placed a hand on her arm.

Her body leaned toward him. The sparkle in his eyes showed promise. Herheart raced, willing him to lean down and kiss her.

"This way men." Beth's voice jerked Tessa straight, and Vanstepped back, again.

Beth entered the shop with two young men in tow. "Van, this is mycousin Lenny and his friend George. They would love to help you with yourcrates."

The young men's bored expressions said they would rather be doinganything but helping with crates. Tessa felt sorry for them. She knew howforceful the tiny woman next to them could be.

"Lenny, George, just start hauling in the crates in the back of thewagon out front. If they have a mark on the top, put them by the ones MissHarrison is unpacking. The others go by the work bench." Van motioned tothe door and the two shuffled out.

"Tessa, I wanted to invite you to Sunday supper after church."

She turned to Beth. Church. She hadn't set foot in church since her madied. Not that she blamed anyone for her mother's death. She didn’t have thestrength to face the people who thought her a sinner for working in the saloon.

"It would be a good way to get back in the graces of thetownsfolk." Van's softly spoken statement fluttered her insides.

"Only if you go." She wouldn't face the congregation alone. Lethim take the step toward rectifying his name as well.

"You could both come to Sunday supper after. Brett would likethat." Beth said, stepping out from between them.

Tessa watched Van. He rubbed the back of his neck and stared at her. What was going through his mind? His eyessearched hers. What did he want to see?

"We'll go together." He turned to Beth. "And I'd bepleased to take Sunday supper with you and Brett."

Tessa had half hoped he'd refuse. Now there was no backing out.

Lenny and George banged through the door carrying crates. Van moved tohelp them and the three left the building to get another load.

"You and Van seem to be getting along well," Beth said,wandering around the shop.

Tessa returned to the open crate and pulled boots out, matching thepairs. "He's easy to get along with and a good boss." She placed thelarger pairs on the bottom shelf and pried open another crate.

"Where are you staying? No one seems to know."

Beth's sudden change of conversation jerked Tessa's concentration."What?"

Friday Facts- Appaloosa Horse

2011-10-21T00:01:00.000-07:00

Since I'm coming down off a high from a wonderful 5 heart review for Spirit of the Mountain , I'm giving you some Nez Perce or Nimiipuu facts or conjecture from learned men and my own thoughts today.

In 1806, Captain Lewis, of the famous duo Lewis and Clark who made the trek to the Pacific Ocean and back, commented the Nez Perce had the largest horse herd on the continent. Anthropologists and historians believe the famed Appaloosa ponies the Nez Perce favored and raised came from the Asian continent. There have been pictographs found in Asian and Chinese Art of spotted horses.

It's been theorized the Nez Perce and other Pacific NW tribes could have crossed between the two continents at one time when there was a land bridge between Alaska and Russia.

The number of horse a family had was a sign of wealth to the Nez Perce. They prided themselves on good bloodlines and fast animals. When they traveled to the plains to hunt buffalo they also sold horses to the plains Indians. Some tribes even tried to steal the agile animals.

Common Characteristics of an Appaloosa horse are: coat pattern, mottled skin, white sclera(the area of the eye that surrounds the iris), and striped hooves.

The photos of these horses, descendants from Ollokot, Chief Joseph's brother's, herd that was left behind with a rancher when the Nez Perce fled for freedom in 1877 were taken by Stan Haggatt. They are now at a ranch on the Nez Perce Reservation in Lapwai, Idaho.

This theory that the appaloosas and Nez Perce could have crossed the Bering straight makes me wonder if the tall, blond Nez Perce Tribe of legends who lived in the cold north could have been descendants of a Slavic group of people who sought asylum from who knows what. These are the people I based the spirits in the Spirit trilogy from. The blonde, blue-eyed northern Nez Perce of myths and legends.

What do you think? Is the crossing a possibility for both the horses and the people?

Wednesday Guest- Greta van der Rol

2011-10-19T00:01:00.000-07:00

Greta van der Rol loves writing science fiction with a large dollop of good old, healthy romance. She lives not far from the coast in Queensland, Australia and enjoys photography and cooking when she isn't bent over the computer. She has a degree in history and a background in building information systems, both of which go a long way toward helping her in her writing endeavours.

Thanks so much for giving me room on yourblog. I'm really excited to announce the publication of the second, andconcluding, “Iron Admiral” book.

In the first novel, “The Iron Admiral:Conspiracy”, hostility is growing between the vast Ptorix Empire and the HumanConfederacy. Admiral Chaka Saahren, hero of the Confederacy, is dismissed fromhis post after he is blamed for the massacre of ptorix miners on an obscureplanet. On a search for the real culprits he accepts a job as a security guardon the mysterious planet Tisyphor. There, he meets brilliant systems engineerAllysha Marten. Saahren never had much time for women but he falls head overheels in love with this one. Allysha has taken one last job to rid her of debtsand her cheating husband and despite her misgivings soon finds herself fallingfor the man she knows as Brad Stone. When she learns that Brad Stone is reallyChaka Saahren her world falls apart – she believes he is responsible for thedeaths of millions of civilians, amongst them, her father. Things (of course)get worse before they get better. At the end of the book, Saahren has beenre-instated and he and Allysha have averted a cataclysmic viral attack on herhome planet. She is certainly not open to Saahren's suggestion of marriage, butthings are much too volatile for her to go home, so she accepts his offer of ahalf-year contract with the Star Fleet.

That's where book two - “The Iron Admiral:Deception” - begins. Allysha is working for the Star Fleet in the Confederacy'scapital city. Everybody still wants a piece of her. Saahren has been promotedto Grand Admiral but that doesn't bring him any closer to winning Allysha.Allysha's husband has been dragooned once again to deliver his wife so she cancomplete a job for the shadowy Galactic People's Republic. If he fails, hedies. We follow Saahren and Allysha as he learns he can't order her around orkeep her in a cocoon, while she learns that truth is so very often a matter ofperception. Eventually, she must confront the issues of the past and deal withthem on her own. Before it's over both Allysha and Saahren will be confrontedwith excruciating decisions.

I'm proud of the book. I'm sure readerswill find it's a worthy successor to Book One and all their questions will beanswered.

Buy "TheIron Admiral: Conspiracy" from

Smashwords for Kindle,ePub and more as well as print

AmazonUS for Kindle and print

Omnilit

Buy “The IronAdmiral: Deception” from

Smashwords for Kindle,ePub and more as well as print

AmazonUS for Kindle and print

Omnilit

Website: http://gretavanderrol.net

Facebook: Author– Greta van der Rol

Twitter: @GretavdR

Christmas Redemption- Part 25

2011-10-17T00:01:00.000-07:00

This story is my Holiday Gift to Readers. You can download the entire novella for free from Smashwords.

"Brett and I were just catching up." The minute he tossed thetarp back, she hurried forward and stood on her tiptoes, peeking into the back.

He nudged her aside with his shoulder. "Go inside. These are tooheavy for you. I'll bring the crates in and you can unpack them."

Her eyes lit up. "I can't wait to see your boots."

Van laughed as she fairly skipped back into the store. He carried a crate in and set it by theshelves. "Unpack all the boots and place them in pairs on the shelf.Largest ones on the bottom shelf."

Tessa's excitement at seeing Van's creations spun in her chest like acolorful toy top. She picked up the hammer he'd left on the shelf and priedopen the crate. Nestled in wood shavings were various sizes and colors ofeveryday boots. She pulled one out, ran her palm over the smooth leather andher fingertip down the stitching. She'd never thought about the person who madeboots and shoes before. They were just necessary. Something to make walkingover sticks, thorns, and rocks easier and to keep your feet warm in the winter.Studying the way the boot was made she had a new appreciation.

"Is something wrong with it?" Van asked, placing another cratenext to the open box.

"No! No, I was just admiring the workmanship." She stared uphis long body to the worried face watching her. Tessa stood. "I had nevergiven my shoes that much thought, but looking at this…you do beautiful work,and I can see why people want your boots."

His eyes glowed with pride and then flared into a gaze so intense andmesmerizing she couldn't move. Hestepped forward, his toes meeting hers, and placed his hands, hot and heavy, onher shoulders. She leaned, yes, she wasleaning toward him. She wanted to feel his lips on hers. See if the tingling sensationbuilding in her could be snuffed by his kiss.

Stomping. She barely registeredthe sound before Van pushed her away and turned to the door.

"My, I didn't believe it when Brett said you'd already be here thismorning," Beth said, steppingthrough the open door. Tessa moaned inwardly. She'd been leaning into Van for akiss and the shop door had been standing wide open. She shivered when the chillDecember air registered through her cotton dress.

Van slipped by Beth and out the door before she closed it.

"Brr. It's cold in here. You really need to keep the door shut soyou don't freeze." She walked next to Tessa. "Or so people don’tstart talking about you two." Her friend raised a blonde eyebrow andnodded to the door.

Tessa slapped her hands on her cheeks. Beth had seen her improperbehavior. "He was just helping merise. I became stiff from all the cleaning yesterday."

Beth just stared at her with a silly smile and nodded.

Friday Fact- True Mad Cow Syndrome

2011-10-14T00:01:00.001-07:00

Now Scientists will tell you that Mad Cow Disease comes from a disease of the nervous system in bovines, but I can tell you I know what Mad Cow Syndrome is.

Last night the hubby and I set out to vaccinate and ear tag a heifer calf born that morning. On the way across the field to tag that calf we discovered a newer addition to our herd. We tagged the heifer and set her and her mom out the gate into the larger pasture of cows and calves.

Hubby walked over to the newborn to see what the ear tag was on the cow and to determine the calf's gender. He walked u,p grabbed the calf by the tail and determined it was a bull calf. As the mom charged him, he caught a way too close glimpse of her ear tag. This my friends is Mad Cow Syndrome. There are some cows that the first 48 hours and sometimes until the day the calf is weaned don't like anything getting near their calf. This cow is one of those "motherly" bovines.

We managed to chase cow and wobbly calf into the corral, then the cow on into a smaller corral while we vaccinated, banded, and ear tagged the calf. Hubby headed down the alleyway to the pasture the cow and calf would be ushered into, to open the pasture gate and tossed over his shoulder. "Let her out when I'm about halfway down."

I waited, then opened the gate and sent Boots, the trusty Border Collie, in after the cow. The dog flashed out first with a snot snorting cow stomping behind her. Eventually the cow mellowed, sniffed her calf, noticed the gate to the alleyway open, and charged down the alleyway leaving the calf behind. I walked up behind the calf and tapped his backend moving him toward the alleyway. The calf stopped. I pushed, and he bawled. Before I could even register the implication of his plea, I heard snorting and looked up to find the cow pounding toward me, head lowered to catch her forehead in my chest.

Now, I've been down this road before with another Mad Cow Syndrome mother. That time she took me to the ground as my hubby pulled on her tail trying to distract her. With visions of my past Mad Cow ordeal, I backpedaled my feet as fast as I could, screeching, "Get! Get! Get!" My back hit the corner post of the corral and I panicked. Just as I braced to be hit, MavFreak, as we affectionately call our daughter's mini Aussie we are dog sitting, thought I was screeching because I saw a mouse and came running over all excited. That was enough to divert the cow's attention. I catapulted over the corral fence and stood there knees shaking watching the cow snort and charge the fence as hubby came strolling back toward the corral. "Was that you making a ruckus?"

I guess you've figured out my husband learned a little about Mad Momma Syndrome about then. ;)

Wednesday Guest- Rebecca Zanetti

2011-10-12T00:01:00.000-07:00

RebeccaZanetti is a college professor by day and romance author by night. Currently she’s busy writing the sexy DarkProtector Series from Kensington Brava, which has received excellentreviews. To findRebecca on the web, drop by her website: http://rebeccazanetti.com/

First – a big thank you to Paty for having me overtoday!

1) Why do you writevampire stories?

Well, truth betold, I didn’t intend for FATED to be a vampire story right off the bat. I started writing it, figuring the hero was aU.S. Marshal, and the guy kept turning into a vampire. Oddest thing. But then the story unfolded about a virus that attacks vampire mates andhow the bad vampires are after the heroine’s daughter…so the series becameabout vampires.

2) Why did you decideto write a series?

My favorite bookshave always been a part of a series—I like getting hints about future books whilereading, and also seeing old characters again. So, it just made sense to write a series. Also, the Dark Protector Series is mainlyabout five brothers who fight for their people and find their loves. I have two sisters, so the family dynamics inthe vampire world make sense to me. Andwe want each brother to find love, right? J

3) What are youworking on now?

I’ve turned in HUNTED(Book 3) and TEMPTED (a novella to be published before book 3) and am juststarting Book 4, which features a couple of lion shifters (Katie and Jordan)met in earlier books. I’m also tinkeringwith another paranormal series as well as a romantic suspense series about agroup of soldiers.

Thanks again for having me over!

Blurb for Claimed

While geneticist Emma Paulsen appreciatesvampire king Dage Kayrs rescuing her from the evil, pasty, creepy Kurjan leaderwho wanted to mate with her, she wouldn’t have needed rescuing had the vampiresnot gone to war. And while she’s willingto spend one night fulfilling her fantasies with Dage, no way does she plan tostick around for good. Whether the kinghappened to brand her flesh or not.

That is until her pregnant sister, Cara, contractsa Kurjan virus that will not only destroy the baby but strip Cara’s chromosomalpairs until she’s possibly less than human. A virus that turns shifters into werewolves. A bug that requires science, magic andphysics to be quashed. Emma will have tosuspend her every belief in science and to trust the vampires in order to saveher sister.

Dage Kayrs has waited three centuries to findhis mate. As King of the Realm, he’saccustomed to diplomacy and design, although he’d rather rip his enemy’s head offthan negotiate. He’s tired of hiding histrue nature. He’s tired of beingalone. But the greatest challenge of hislong life will be in learning to compromise enough to keep Emma, his learningto bend during a time of war when his oldest friends might become his greatestenemies.

Christmas Redemption - Part 24

2011-10-10T00:01:00.000-07:00

This story is my Holiday Gift to Readers. You can download the entire story for free from Smashwords.

Chapter Six

"What can you tell me about Judge Spencer since he moved here?"Van asked his friend as they hitched the horses to the wagon.

"Why are you so interested in the judge? I'd think you'd want tostay out of his way." Brett buckled the harness on his side and walkedaround the front of the team.

"Things Tessa told me don't add up. And I just saw him talking toCrane. A man who should have went to prison, not me." Van's anger surged the more he thought aboutthe judge sentencing him when he obviously was in cahoots with the robber.

"What's provin' the judge is friends with Crane goin' to do? You'reout now and can start a new life."

He stopped in front of his friend. "Vindication for Tessa andmyself."

"You been out to see your family yet?" Brett crossed his armsand watched him.

"This weekend. As soon as I get the shop set up. Then I can invite Maand Pa to town to see what I do."

"And your little sister."

"What?"

"You're ma had a baby a couple years after you left. I'd reckonshe's eight, now." Brett nodded his head.

Van fell back on his heels and stared at his friend. He had a sister?After all those years of yearning for a sibling he finally had one and didn'teven know it. "A sister… What's her name? I'll have to get a gift for herand ma."

"Gloria. I can tell you that little girl has sweetened yourpa." Brett shook his head. "It's the darnedest thing to see how yourold man smiles and talks with her."

A pang of jealousy sliced Van's gut. His pa only gave him the time of dayto give him orders or chew him out. Nowmore than ever he wanted to ride out to the ranch and see this new familymember and if his pa had really changed.

"Guess I'll see for myself on Saturday." He climbed onto thewagon seat. "I better get this over to Tessa, she's one woman who likes towork. She had that shop spotless in no time yesterday."

"Beth told me you two were working well together."

Van shot a glance at his friend. A knowing smile creased Brett's roundface.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothin'. You two work well together. Say, any idea where Tessa'sstayin'? Beth wanted to send her a note."

"Just have her stop by the shop. Tessa will be there everyday." If Beth started asking around about Tessa someone was bound tofigure out she wasn't staying in the hotels or the boarding houses andeventually put two and two together.

"You even work the girl on Sunday?" Brett stared at him.

"No. I don't know what she'll be doing on Sunday." He decided to get out of there before he hadto lie to his friend about not knowing where Tessa stayed. "See ya. Thanksfor holding this for me. I'll bring the horses and wagon back at the end of theday."

Brett nodded, and Van snapped the reins over the horse's backs. Theanimals pushed against the harness and pulled the loaded wagon out of the liveryand down the frost hardened street. He stopped in front of the shop. The door opened immediately, and Tessastepped onto the boardwalk.

"What took so long?" She stood back while he climbed down andstarted untying the rope holding down the tarp and the load.

Friday Facts- Peter French Round Barn

2011-10-07T10:45:00.000-07:00

The Peter French Round Barn is in Eastern Oregon on the High Dessert.

The roof resembles a large umbrella. The red ceder shake roof is held up with juniper posts.

It was built in the 1880's by cattle baron Peter French for training horses year around.
It is 100 feet in diameter with a 60 foot round stone corral ringed by a 20 foot outer circle where they rode the horses.

The gates swing on mortar hinges.

Wednesday Guest- J. Paulette Forshey

2011-10-05T00:01:00.000-07:00

Paulette lives in a small Ohio town with her husband, a Basset Hound, and a Jack Russell who thinks she owns the place. Her mornings belong to her writing, her days are spent loving her five grandbabies, and her nights belong to her husband, the inspiration for her heroes. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Central Ohio Fiction Writers, Northeast Ohio Romance Writers of America, and Fantasy, Futuristic & Paranormal Chapter of RWA.

Why I write the genre I do: "I usually write paranormal romance because I like my romance to have a little bit of a bite, but every now and then I have to do a contemporary, because even 'normal' people need a little romance now and then.

Contest: I'm giving away a clover necklace & clover earrings, and a copy of "Chances Taken". I'll choose a winner from someone that leaves a comment.

Review: “CHANCES TAKEN transports the reader to romantic Ireland where one special woman wins her heart's desire.” Becky Barker author of Bridleton and many more.

CHANCES TAKEN is my sexy contemporary romance set in Ireland - Ian Cathmor, wealthy Irish CEO, believes women want the money, not the man, until a shy American comes to visit his cousin’s B&B and teaches him about “chances taken”. Available at Whispers Publishing www.whispershome.com

Chances Taken-excerpt

“Could you give me a ride?” Jacquelyn’s tongue darted out to lick her lower lip then capture it between her teeth.

A few of the pub’s patrons raised a brow and smiled in their drinks at her statement.

Ian nearly swallowed his tongue along with the reply he wanted to give her innocent words, thanking the stars for his travels to the States. He knew Jacquelyn was asking for a lift to the inn and not a sexual favor, as that particular phrase normally would be interpreted in this part of the world.

“Yes, I can see that you reach the inn.”

The trip wasn’t long. The gentle rumble of the lorry’s engine had put Jacquelyn to sleep as they pulled from the pub. Now, they sat in front of Kyna’s B&B, the Thistle Down. Ian turned off the engine, listening to the moment of silence cocooning them, enjoying the illusion of being a couple as Jacquelyn sighed softly in her sleep. Strange, he wanted these moments to last an eternity.

Exiting the truck, he went round it to her side and opened the door. He slipped his arms under her, thus cradling her against him. Her head nestled in the hollow of his shoulder. Her heart made a steady slow rhythm against his chest. Ian rubbed his cheek over the top of her head, reveling in the silken, soft feel of her hair there as it cascaded across his arm. He was nearly to the door when she awoke.

“Put me down,” she gasped and struggled in his arms. “Where do you think you’re taking me?”

He released her so she slid down the front of him, still held loosely pressed against him. He could still feel her heart beat, and it was at a gallop now. Ian let his hands fall gently away from her.

“Let me go.” Jacquelyn stared up at him, fear dancing in her eyes.

“I’ve not a hold on you,” Ian whispered low and soothingly. “I was only delivering you to the inn.”

Jacquelyn swallowed hard, making a loud gulping sound.

Ian grinned, acknowledging he’d heard the sound.

“Oh.”

“You’re at the Thistle Down, safe and sound. I hope your dreams are sweet and plentiful.”

Ian touched his cap, turning to leave.

“Wwwait, what do I owe you for the ride?” she stammered.

He bit the inside of his cheek at the phrase, turning back to her. Quickly, before she could react, he snagged her with one arm, crushed her to him, and fastened his mouth to hers. He kissed her thoroughly, and then he released her.

“That’s more than enough payment.” Ian rounded the lorry to hop inside, and just before he placed the truck in gear, he shouted over the engine. “In fact, I’ll be by on the morrow to give you your change. Goodnight to you now.”

Jacquelyn stood watching the truck’s taillights disappear into the night. She raised a finger to trace her lips and still felt the warmth. No, that wasn’t right. She felt the heat left behind by Ian’s mouth, and much to her own amazement, she smiled. She had no doubt her dreams would be plentiful tonight, but sweet. No, they would be zestier than that.

Website: www.jpauletteforshey.com

Buy link: www.whispershome.com

Social networks: FaceBook, twitter @ForsheyJ

Christmas Redemption- Part 23

2011-10-03T00:01:00.000-07:00

Van dressed and stomped aroundhoping to wake, Tessa. After tossing half the night with thoughts of her in hishead, he didn’t have the control to walk down the stairs and perhaps find hersleeping or dressing. Either way he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off her.

The clang of the door on the stovebelow echoed in his head like the starting pistol at a horse race. He joggeddown the stairs, happy to see her pallet all made and her belongings tuckedaway. He couldn't wait to see her as he entered the shop.

"Good Morning. I'll get ussome breakfast and then bring the wagon over to unload." His hand shot outand rubbed her arm.

She glanced at his hand then upinto his face. "Good morning. I'll get some coffee brewing." Shemoved away from his touch, but not before he saw her cheeks darken a shade.

"Good." He moved to theshop door. "I'll be back as quick as I can."

"There's no rush. I drank themilk this morning and could do quite well with that till noon."

"I'm going to win our bet andfatten you up." He winked and hurried out the door before he found someother thing to say to remain. If this kept up, he'd remind her of a randy younglad and scare her off.

Whistling, he headed to therestaurant on the corner. The dinner he'd purchased there the night before hadbeen good.

He stopped when a man a block downlooked right and left before darting between two buildings. There was somethingfamiliar about his build and gait. Van passed the restaurant and hurried to thespot where the man had disappeared. He walked by slowly, glancing between thebuildings. Nothing. He hurried alongthe edge of the building and stopped at the corner. Voices, both familiar, wereraised in an argument. Cautiously, he peeked around the corner. Judge Spencerand, he stared hard to get a look at the face under the wide Stetson. The manthrew back his head and laughed.

Crane.

Why was the judge talking to Crane?A known bank robber. He couldn't get close enough to hear what was being said.But it was clear the judge wasn't happy. Crane shrugged his shoulders andstarted Van's direction.

He hurried back to the main streetand into the restaurant. If the judgeknew the bank robber now, did he know the man twelve years ago? Was that why hetossed me into the prison for so long to keep me from finding out? But whatabout his declaration Mr. Harrison was one of the robbers? Why was he adamantabout that? Crane knew better.

Van ordered a large meal again.

"You should be as big as oldPaul over there the way you eat, mister," said the waitress who helped himthe night before.

"I work hard."

She nodded and disappeared. Withinminutes she returned with his plate piled high.

"I'm going to take this withme, again. At noon I'll return the basket and the plates."

The waitress nodded.

Van hurried back to the shop. He'dleave the food for Tessa and head to the livery for his wagon and have a talkwith Brett.

Friday Fact

2011-09-30T08:39:00.000-07:00

Since we're in the middle of calving I thought some Cow Facts would be fun.

Cattle only have one stomach but with four compartments to help digest grasses and grains.

A cow grazes for about 6 hours every day and chews their cud for 8 hours.

Cows regurgitate their food and re-chew the cud to help digestion.

A calf weighs about 80 pounds at birth.

It is possible to lead a cow upstairs but not downstairs, because a cow's knees cannot bend properly to walk back down.

Cows have almost total 360 degree panoramic vision and are able to see colors, except red.

The first cow in America arrived in Jamestown colony in 1611.

Twin male and female calves will result in a sterile female calf.

Wednesday Guest- Sarah Grimm

2011-09-28T00:01:00.000-07:00

Sarah Grimm is an award winning author of contemporary romance and romantic suspense. She lives in West Michigan with her husband, two sons and three miniature schnauzers. Between mom's taxi service, parts runs, and answering the phone for the family marine repair business, Sarah can be found curled in her favorite chair, crafting her next novel.
How long have you been writing romance?

I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember. I have notebooks filled with poems, story ideas, and partial chapters from as far back as age five. Yes, thanks to my older sister, I could read and write by age five. And I did. I read everything I could get my hands on, usually re-writing the story in my head as I went. If you asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I always answered something different depending on the day. I couldn’t make up my mind. Then I picked up my first romance novel. Suddenly I had my answer: “I want to get married, have children and write romances.”
As a young girl, I always had a story to tell. At times they were funny, other times scary, but they were always, and I mean always, happily-ever-after. You see, I’m a romantic—a die hard romantic. I believe in love, not just as a fundamental part of human relationships, but as a force that really can heal emotional scars. I truly believe there is someone for everyone—the person they are meant to find. Their other half. Their soul mate.
I always say that NOT WITHOUT RISK was the first story I wrote from start to finish, but after being asked to put something together about my road to publication, I realized that it wasn’t. My first story wasn’t even a romance, it was a story about my best friend. A story I titled MY CAT SNEAKER, which won a Young Authors Award. I still have the award, and the story, packed away with a few momentos from my youth.
When I got married, I set my writing aside. I focused on my husband and building a family. Then my youngest son was born and the struggle to keep him alive began. He was healthy at birth, colicky, irritable even, but healthy—until he turned six weeks old and began showing symptoms of croup. Fast forward a few months to me, frantically rushing in and out of the hospital with my son. We made so many late night emergency visits that my oldest began sleeping by the door to keep track of mommy. I can’t tell you how many times we rushed to the hospital with a child who was turning blue, only to be told by the doctors that they didn’t know what was wrong with him. Most of them thought I was just a young, overreacting mother (I even got the condescending pat on the head from a few), but one believed there was something more going on than croup.

That man saved my child’s life. He found a birthmark in my son’s throat that obstructed eighty percent of his airway. By the time we were done, my baby had endured stomach surgery, throat surgery, and a tracheotomy with all the special care that entails. As you can imagine, all the hospital time left me desperate for a distraction, so I took pen to paper, yup, longhand, and wrote my first romance. Not just bits and pieces of a book, but the entire hero and heroine’s journey from ‘Chapter One’ to ‘The End’.

That book became my first release, a romantic suspense titled Not Without Risk, which recently took Silver in the 2011 Readers Favorite Awards.

What inspired your latest release After Midnight?
Teenage fantasies about meeting and marrying a rock star, combined with the maturity to know that a twenty-something musician is not happily-ever-after material. Add to that the picture in my mind of a woman alone in a bar, playing the piano. That picture spawned a series of 'what if' questions which led to After Midnight.

What is next from you?
While writing After Midnight, one of the secondary characters kept telling me he needed his story told, so I'm writing that one now. Midnight Heat is a reunion romance, and although I had no plans to make it so when I started, it looks like it may become a romantic suspense.

Blurb for After Midnight:

Thirteen years—that's how long Isabeau Montgomery has been living a lie. After an automobile accident took her mother's life, Izzy hid herself away, surviving the only way she knew how. Now she is happy in her carefully reconstructed life. That is until he walks through the door of her bar...

Black Phoenix singer/front man Noah Clark came to Long Island City with a goal—one that doesn't include an instant, electric attraction to the dark-haired beauty behind the bar. Coaxing her into his bed won't be easy, but he can't get her pale, haunted eyes nor her skill on the piano out of his head.

Can Noah help Isabeau overcome the past? Or will her need to protect her secret force her back into hiding and destroy their chance at happiness?

Excerpt:

   “I’m not the type of woman men fall for.”
   “I’ve fallen for you.”
    Heat flooded her system. She forced herself to breathe, to keep her eyes locked with his. “No you haven’t. You …”
   He pushed off the mantel and stepped in her direction. “I, what?”
   “Never mind.”
   “Finish the sentence, Isabeau.”
   “I don’t think so.”
   “Then let me.” He closed the distance between them. “You were going to say I haven’t fallen for you, weren’t you? You actually believe him? That you’re nothing more to me than convenient?”
   Her pulse throbbed thick and hard. Heat radiated off his body. The scent of him filled her head. She wanted, more than anything, to press herself against him and relive the pleasure of his mouth against hers. Instead, she lifted her chin. “Maybe.”
   He leaned in close. So close his breath brushed across her lips. “You believe him, but not me?”
   “You are here only temporarily.”
   “Yes.”
   “And I am just down the street.”
   “I suppose.”
   She ran her tongue over her dry lips. “So the whole thing does seem rather—”
   “Don’t say it.”
   “—convenient.”
   Something dangerous came and went in his eyes. “Now I’m getting angry.”
   His hands skimmed down her sides, slipped under her shirt and settled on her lace-covered bottom. Her breath went uneven. Searing need swarmed her.
   “You want something to believe, believe this.” He pulled her into the solid ridge of his erection. She lost her concentration. “There is nothing convenient about the way I feel about you.”
Where to find Sarah:
Website: http://www.sarahgrimm.com/

Blog: http://www.authorsarahgrimm.blogspot.com/

Group Blog: http://www.smutwriterssoapbox.blogspot.com/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/SarahGrimm.Author

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/SGrimmAuthor

Find out more about Sarah’s blog tour here:

http://authorsarahgrimm.blogspot.com/2011/09/after-midnight-blog-tour.html

Sarah’s Spread the Word Contest Featuring 3 prize packages:

http://authorsarahgrimm.blogspot.com/p/contest.html

Buy After Midnight here:

The Wild Rose Press (http://bit.ly/o2Lkwi)

Amazon (http://amzn.to/p1SG3s)

Christmas Redemption -Part 22

2011-09-26T00:01:00.000-07:00

Christmas Redemption
by Paty Jager

Copyright ©2011

"Let me make sure there's no one around." Van opened the door, stepped out, and glanced up and down the alley. "Okay."

She hurried to the small building in the back of the alley. Would he wait until she was finished? The thought made taking care of business even harder. Finally, she left the privy.

Van stood by the back door of the shop. She scanned the alley, scurried across the area, and into the building.

"If you want to clean up with warm water, I stoked the stove in the shop and put a pan of water on."

His thoughtfulness impressed her. His mother must have instilled good things in him before he ended up in prison.

"Thank you." She watched him in the low glow of the kerosene lamp. The faint light darkened the planes of his face, heightening his attractiveness. Creating an aura of mystery.

"You're welcome. I'll see you in the morning." He raised a hand as if to touch her, then dropped it and shifted toward the stairs. "If you need anything…"

"I'll be fine. I've been sleeping here for a while and haven't had anyone to run to." She smiled at the embarrassed half grin he shot her.

"Yeah, I guess so. Night."

"Good night. Thank you for the lovely dinner and the job." She wasn't scared to be alone, but she also didn’t want him to leave. His presence filled her with a longing she didn't understand and a camaraderie she'd never had
.
"You're welcome – for both." He put a foot on the bottom step. "Tomorrow, we'll get the inventory and tools set up."

"I'm looking forward to it." She smiled and backed away. This was ridiculous. One of them had to make the move. "Good night," she said, again, and turned her back to him, fumbling in her valise for a towel.

"Night." His footsteps thumped up the stairs.

When she heard his steps moving about above her, she brought the heated water to the backroom and slipped out of her dress, washing away the sweat and dirt she'd accumulated not only today but since her last bath at the bath house a week ago.

****

Van heated water to clean today's sweat and dirt from his body. His mind kept weaving visions of Tessa doing the same in the storage room. The more time he spent with her the harder it was to keep his thoughts from straying to what it would be like to kiss her. Hold her. Make love to her. He groaned. He couldn't go there. She had plans. Good plans. Ones he wouldn't interfere with.

If she received a teaching certificate she'd be set until she found a husband.

Air whooshed out of him at the constriction of his chest. He didn’t want to think about her with anyone else. She was charming, smart, and looking into her eyes made everything in his life seem right. The longer he gazed into them he wanted to lay her down and love her until they were both spent.

He flung the cloth in the pan of warm water and pulled on a clean set of drawers. Van turned down the kerosene lamp and lowered his tired body onto the thin pile of blankets on the floor. Not since leaving the prison had he worked his body as fully as he'd done today. He had aches in places he didn't know he had muscles. He'd bet anything Tessa's small hands could work the knots out.

He growled and flipped to his side. The thin blankets were no match for the hard floor. How did she sleep every night like this? He had to find a way to get her a decent bed. Or get her to sleep in his.

The thought heated his body. He flung the covers off and flopped onto his back. It would be a long night.

Friday Fact

2011-09-23T07:04:00.000-07:00

Clarkston, WA is the gateway to North America's deepest gorge, Hell's Canyon.
Hell's Canyon is a mile deep framed by 10,000 foot peaks of theWallowas Mountains. The Snake River wanders along the bottom of the gorge. Much of the gorge is inaccessable.

I'll be in Clarkston, WA this Saturday for a book signing at ...and BOOKS, too! on 6th street. I'd love to see you if you're in the area.

Last night I spoke to the Central Oregon Writers Guild about genres. It was fun and we had a nearly 30 people there.

Wednesday Guest- Melinda Elmore

2011-09-21T00:01:00.000-07:00

I have lived in Arizona and Tennessee, but Arizona is my home. I have discovered wealth is not measured in how much money you have but in how much love you share.
    I have been happily married to my wonderful husband, Tom for 22 years. I have two remarkable children, Shaelee and Erik.
     As a young child, I loved reading and writing. Many nights I would wrap up in a blanket, daydream, while I turned the exciting pages of a book. The books would take me to many places. I loved the idea of going from the normal world in which I lived, then instantly I would be taken to a place far away.
     To my surprise, I started writing and creating my very own world. A place where I could go and lose myself with just a pen and paper.
     I grew up with the fascination of the American Indian. My love for them grew by leaps and bounds as I read about them from my history book. I wanted to show, in my writings, of the proud people that the American Indians truly are. They show honor and respect for all living things. If I can capture just a small portion of that in my writings then that would be an added bonus for me.
     Native American Romance and Native American mysteries is my passion. I hope to reveal in my books the uniqueness of the American Indian. I feel truly blessed to try and reveal how special the American Indians truly are.
     The love of my family and the love for the American Indian have become focal points in my stories. I will do my best for both of them.
     I sincerely pray readers enjoy the characters that I bring to life on each turning page!!!!

Why do you write mysteries?

I write mysteries because my love for intrigue for suspense

You have Native American elements in your books, why?

The reason there is Native American elements in my book is because my love for the American Indian. I have a desire to show how remarkable and sacred they are.

What are you working on now?

I am working on a new series that is centered on the Apache and Navajo. It is a mystery novel also.

Blurb for Blood on the Feather:

Archeologist DeShay Graywater is on a dig but what she finds has nothing to do with Native
American culture. Tribal Police Detective T.J. Hawke is first on the scene, followed by F.B.I.
Agent Melina Wolfe.

Years ago, T.J. and Melina were in love but the night a drunk driver killed Melina's parents
changed everything. Now Melina is back on the reservation to track down a murderer, with
T.J.'s help. From South Dakota to southern California, the pair follows clues that lead them
to a motorcycle gang, drugs, and a barroom brawl. T.J. worries about Melina's safety but
she assures him in no uncertain terms that she's a big girl who can take care of herself.

In the end, will Melina come to understand that T.J. is looking out for her because he loves
her and plans to marry her? Or will she wind up on the wrong end of a shotgun in the hands
of a desperate criminal?

Excerpt Blood on the Feathers:

DeShay gazed toward skan, sky, and cetan, hawk circled overhead. She closed her eyes when a feather brushed her hand. The feather of a hawk or eagle is sacred to the Lakota.

Slowly opening her eyes glancing down at the feather. It had faded quite a bit and parts were missing, as if they had been pulled off in a struggle. She shrugged at the thought of why the feather had been damaged but then disregarded her feelings and placed the feather in her pocket.

When she turned to set up her site, something else grabbed her attention. The distinctive odor of death. Uneasiness crept inside her but she couldn't ignore the object sparkling in with the sun's rays. Studying a mound of dirt that held the object, understanding suddenly registered – a dead body.

Cautiously approaching the unknown mound, her heart beat faster, her stomach clenched, and her mouth went dry. She covered her nose and mouth with her sleeve, trying to keep the order from gagging her. A cry of anguish escaped DeShay's lips when she realized the remains were human.

The young woman lay supine, clasping something in her hand. As DeShay came closer, she identified the object as a medicine wheel, hand painted, with an arrow in the center pointing southwest. The cause of death was not evident, at least not to DeShay.

Her mind raced, then she turned and ran toward her Jeep, heart pounding, as she leaped over the gate. She had to get her cell phone. Why hadn't she taken it with her?

Finally, her Jeep came into view. In her haste she tripped over a rock as she made her way over the bumpy ground, then jumped to her feet and ran as fast as fast as she could. Approaching her vehicle, she reached inside, grabbed the phone, and frantically dialed 9-1-1.

www.melindaelmore.webs.com
www.melindaelmoreauthorofmysteryromance.blogspot.com

Christmas Redemption -Part 21

2011-09-19T00:01:00.000-07:00

Christmas Redemption
by Paty Jager

Copyright ©2011

Tessa placed food on Van's plate. He'd not done the things he did to get his father's attention. He'd been cocky and foolish to not become his father. The revelation spun a whole new facet on Van. Yet, here he was a successful business man and not a thing like his father. Except… she'd seen traces of Mr. Donovan in Van when he'd butt heads with Floyd.

She took a bite of chicken and watched as Van poured milk from the pail. "Oh, my! You didn't have to get milk just for me."

He passed a cup to her. "I don't like how skinny you are. Tell me all the things you like, and I'll make sure you get them."

"Humph! Now you're sounding like all the old biddies when I was growing up. They always told my mother she wasn't feeding me enough. I can eat like a horse and I don't get any bigger."

He pointed to the cup and then her mouth. "Prove it."

Tessa took a sip then guzzled. There was nothing better to drink than milk. How she'd missed the creamy white liquid when their cow was sold to help pay for food. They'd cut back to only two meals a day and Mother taking in boarders, but that only managed to feed the boarders well and pay the bank. Then Mother became ill, and Tessa couldn't tend her and keep up with boarders. That's when Judge Spencer swooped in, bought the house, and allowed them to live there until her mother died. Then his offer to allow her to remain…

Tessa set the milk down and frowned at her plate.

"What's wrong? Does the milk taste bad?" Van pulled the pail close and took a sniff.

"No. The milk is wonderful. I just remembered something." She picked at the chicken on her plate. Why had the judge allowed them to stay after all the years of harassing them?

"What?" Van forked a mouthful of potatoes between his lips.

She shook her head. Instinct told her if Van knew about the judge's propositions it would cause trouble. "Just remembering the hard times and looking forward to a better future once I get a job teaching."

"That's something I had to work on. Look forward, never back. Back, especially with the mistakes I made, only brings regrets and sorrow. Looking forward is brighter."

"I agree." Tessa picked up her chicken and ate with vigor. Seeing a future with a roof over her head, food in her stomach, and a respectable job eased the aches of her long day.

They ate in silence until everything but the half full pail of milk remained.

"Set this outside the back door and you'll have a glass of milk with breakfast," Van said, piling the dirty dishes in a pail.

"Let me wash those." Tessa held out her hand.

Van pulled them away. "I'm going to bring up some water to wash these and leave a bucket by the back door for you." He set the dishes in the middle of the table. "You can use the privy while I get the water."

A blush crept up her neck. That was an intimate thing to say. But then their dinner played out like that of a married couple. Her face burned even hotter at the thought, and her gaze darted to the bedding in the corner. To hide her thoughts and embarrassment, she ducked out the door ahead of Van and scampered down the stairs. She grasped the back door handle, and his hand closed over the top.

Heat race up her arm.

Fact Friday - Horses

2011-09-16T07:36:00.000-07:00

Here are some interesting facts about horses (and cowboys).

Horses have 16 muscles in each ear allowing them to rotate their ears 180 degrees.

Horses are social animals.They get lonely if kept alone.

Fresh mowed grass can cause colic in horses.

It takes 9-12 months to re-grow an entire horse hoof.

A horse has two blind spots-directly in front and directly behind.

In the state of Arizona it is illegal for cowboys to walk through a hotel lobby wearing spurs.

Wednesday Guest- Jacquie Rogers

2011-09-14T00:01:00.000-07:00

Much Ado About Marshals
by Jacquie Rogers

Website*Twitter*Facebook

Jacquie Rogers grew up on a farm in southwest Idaho, milking cows, riding horses, hoeing beets, and all the other things that need to be done on a farm, creating experiences which have proved to be a rich source of story fodder. Now she lives in Washington State with her husband. The only animal she herds these days is her cat, Annie. And no, Annie doesn’t cooperate all that well. Jacquie’s first ambition was to be a baseball announcer, but that didn’t work out so by age 8 she decided to be a foreign correspondent because they get to go to exotic places. Having children took care of that dream, so she ended up doing all sorts of other jobs before she took up the keyboard.

Her current release is Much Ado About Marshals, a Western Historical Romance. Also available is a western contemporary, Down Home Ever Lovin’ Mule Blues, and two fantasy romances, Faery Merry Christmas and Faery Special Romances.

What led you to write a Romance?
Once upon a time, I was bedridden with a bad case of pneumonia and ran out of books to read. Disaster! My daughter brought me a Romance novel, but I adamantly refused to read it. Out of desperation for reading material, I finally did read a few Romances, and liked them so well I read several dozen more during the month of recovery. Then I started writing my own story, and hasn’t stopped since.

To expand on my beginnings as a writer, I was (still am) inspired by really great books. They’re fodder for my soul. I hadn’t read Romance before my daughter forced me into it. To understand a writer, you have to understand their reading habits. I cut my teeth on Zane Grey, Louis L’Amour and other traditional Western authors, then moved on to Mystery and Fantasy. I read those genres obsessively for several years.

But in all these books, something was missing, and that something was the completion of the human experience. Westerns end with the good guy triumphing over the bad guy, Mysteries end with the culprit in handcuffs, and Fantasy ends when the world is saved from the ultimate evil force. There’s more to life than that, though. Missing from these other genres is our primal need for a mate and children, the urge to nurture our souls with love. Without that, a story isn’t complete, because our internal primal urges drive us in a way that external forces can’t and don’t. I find a more complete humanness in Romance novels.

What’s next?
I have two projects and I don’t know which will be published first. One is book two of the Much Ado series, Much Ado About Madams. It’s so new, I don’t even have a web page for it yet. We’re still in the editing stage with that one, although if anyone posts a review, they’re welcome to a sneak peek at book 2. Book 3 is also in the works, written but I haven’t decided on a title yet.

The other project is called Faery Hot Dragon, and is a dragon-faery story. I’ll self-publish it as a novella and then co-publish with Eilis Flynn, who also has a dragon novella.

Much Ado About Marshals description:
Laugh out loud funny plus plotting so clever and seamless makes Much Ado About Marshals my favorite new recommended read.
~~Amber Scott, author of FIERCE DAWN

Daisy Gardner wants to be a detective just like dime novel heroine Honey Beaulieu. To her delight, her sister shot a bank robbery and he got away, so now she even has a crime to solve. But her parents insist she marry a man whose farm is miles from town. She can’t solve crimes stuck out there. What better solution than to marry the new marshal!

Rancher Cole Richards saves his friend from robbing a bank, but is shot for his efforts, and now is a wanted man. His friend takes him to Oreana to see the doc, where Cole’s mistaken for the new marshal. Now he faces a dilemma few men have to face--tell the truth and get hanged, or live a lie and end up married. Either way could cost him his freedom.

Buy it at:
Amazon * Barnes & Noble * Smashwords

Christmas Redemption - Part 20

2011-09-12T00:01:00.000-07:00

Christmas Redemption
by Paty Jager

Copyright ©2011

His footsteps thunked across the ceiling above her. She locked the front door, turned off the kerosene lamp in the front of the store, and turned the one in back down low enough she could see to find her bed later.

With deliberate steps she climbed the stairs. A bright light illuminated the room she'd cleaned earlier. A blanket stretched across the window facing the street. Before he left Van had carried up a table, two chairs, and a box.

Two plates and utensils sat on the table. Coffee brewed on a small potbellied stove. She placed the basket, pail, and two cups on the table and turned to watch him pile blankets in the corner of the room.

"This will have to do until they bring a bed tomorrow." He smoothed the last blanket and rose from his kneeling position on the floor. "I wish there was some way to get a bed in for you without the whole town knowing two beds were set up."

"I'm fine. I've been sleeping on the floor for nearly six months. A few more won't hurt me." She opened the basket to avoid the intensity of his gaze. The scent of fried chicken and fresh bread wafted out causing her stomach to growl.

"I worked you too hard today and didn’t feed you proper. Sit." Van held a chair.
She sat and felt the heat rising up her neck when his hand brushed against her shoulder. This was far too intimate a setting. Her dreams last night had been filled with the man. She'd not be able to sleep tonight knowing he slept above her.

"I'm not really hungry." She started to rise, and he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Your stomach says otherwise. Eat. That's all. As soon as you're done, you can go back downstairs." He squeezed her shoulder, and her body flashed with heat. He squat beside her chair. "I'm not making advances. You worked hard today and deserve a good meal for your troubles."

"But you're paying me to work." She couldn't draw her gaze from his. The deep brown drew her in and held her completely.

"And I'll feed you to keep you happy and healthy." His hand touched her cheek. "Let me make up to you for the years I took away."

The warmth of his touch made her ears ring, but his words slowly sunk in. "You didn't pull the trigger that killed my father." Was his caring only because of the guilt he felt? If so she'd have to carefully guard her attraction for him. She'd not allow herself to fall for him when he only felt it his duty to provide for her. Come February, she'd be out of here and he'd be just a pleasant memory.

"I could have stopped it." He rose and sat in the chair opposite hers. "The whole time I sat in prison, I ran the events over and over in my mind. I realized my father had been right about me. All I wanted out of life was a lark and him to bail me out. I wasn't learning about responsibility. I didn't want to. I didn't want to become as hard and unyielding as him."