Showing posts with label Writer in the Pines. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writer in the Pines. Show all posts

Friday, February 24, 2017

Fresh Book Friday - A Golden Princess

It's Friday, and I have a new book to show to you:

Title: A Golden Princess
Author: Anna del C. Dye
Genre: Young Adult Medieval Romance
Published: February 3, 2017

Book Description:
Small for her age, Princess Nyala is determined to be noticed and someday rule with fairness and valor in Kaloma. All that changes when she looks upon the stars and they predict her accident. After she awakens to a broken body, her father takes to his goblet and she steps into power in her kingdom at sixteen.

Her father said that no man would choose a half-broken princess. Is that how Prince Nicolao sees her after the accident? Her heart is unsure, and out of fear, she keeps him away to avoid a broken heart.

As soon the other kingdoms in the land determine the predicament of the Royal House of Kaloma, they too will prey on her vulnerability to steal her kingdom. She will have to confront new foes or lose it all.


Purchase Link: Kindle


Excerpt:
“The servants have set dinner in the terrace for us,” the prince stated.

“That will be different,” the princess replied. “But it is a wonderful night.”

“I think it is the company that makes it more beautiful,” Briton said. He didn’t want to be left out, and Nicolao felt for him, just a little bit.

Never before had he noticed how long the hall seemed or the brilliant lights that hung from the rafters. That night the path echoed with their joyous voices and their steps. He pointed to the paintings of his forefathers and she commented on their clothes and strange hairdos.

“I would love to see your kingdom someday,” he mentioned. He wanted to stay close and see where his admi­ration for her would take him in the next few years. He vowed to let his heart decide the matter.

“Oh, this is enchanting, Prince Nicolao,” she sighed and brought him back to the moment.

The servants opened two glass doors and the group stepped onto the terrace.

“Could you please call me just Nicolao?” he asked.

“Did you see the lanterns hanging from the vines?” she asked, ignoring him and he wondered why? ... Did she do it on purpose?

“They seem like stars suspended in the air.” Misty turned slowly to take it all in.

“The fragrance from those flowers is delicate and beauti­ful,” Nyala stated, and sniffed the air some more.

“I am most pleased that you like them,” the prince said. He wanted her attention and it felt odd to compete with the nightlights and plants for it.

“Like them? We love them!”

After supper, Nicolao invited them for a moonlit walk.

Nyala glanced again at the dark velvety sky and said, “I have never seen so many stars in one place before.”

“Me neither, it is an awesome sight,” her lady-in-waiting added.

“We ordered them,” explained Asher, “the velveteen sky, the diamonds, all suspended in the night, just for you.” He finished with a bow towards Misty. The words fitted the mo­ment and the company and Nicolao wished he would have come up with that thought, but alas, he was outwitted.

“Most thoughtful of you,” Misty giggled.

“I would like to know about the different shapes that the stars form,” Nyala stated. “See that one, it seems to be a pot or something like that.”

“I do see what you mean,” Nicolao responded.

“Do you know what they mean?” she pressed.

“No, but there is someone in the castle who knows about them,” he affirmed. “Briton, could you get Drake, the astrol­oger, from his tower to come and talk to us about the stars?”

“What is an astrologer?” Nyala asked as Briton left.

“Astrologers are few, and only royalty have one in their employ,” the prince explained. “They claim to understand the stars, travel by them and such. But take warning, their upkeep is high.”

“I see,” she said.

“My Princess, many astrologers are seen as an amuse­ment by many of the people of the court,” Asher cautioned her.

“It is just for fun, my friend,” she patted his arm. “I am dying to see what he tells us.”

“Princess Nyala visits us from the Kingdom of Kaloma,” Prince Nicolao introduced her to the astrologer.

“It is an honor, My Lady,” Drake said and bowed to them. A half-moon pendant hung from his neck over the long, dark blue gown he wore.

“Drake, please tell us, what do you see in the stars?” Nyala asked, hands turned upward.

“Many things, My Lady,” he answered.

“What about the shapes of the stars, Drake? Do they mean anything?”

“Yes, My Princess. They all have names and they are the rulers of everyone’s future,” he answered. He then told them the name of many star clusters; at least what he and the other astrologers called the different groups of stars. His knowledge kept them fascinated for a long while.

“What else do you see in them?” she asked again.

“I see the seasons, the weather and also the future.”

“That is impossible; no one is permitted to know such things.” Nicolao stared at the sage.

“Everyone’s future is written in the stars,” the astrologer insisted. His dark eyes returned the prince’s stare.

“Could you tell me about my future?” Nyala asked.

“Yes, My Lady. Please tell me which day you were born.”

She answered all of his questions. He then opened his star charts and did some calculations on them. When Drake seemed done, he glanced back and forth between the prince and her, his lips and tan face appeared tight.

“What did you find out?” she blurted.

“My Lady is going to be a queen before she turns eight­een,” Drake responded.

“Oh, the laws of our kingdom stipulate that I have to be eighteen to become queen.”

“It is written in the stars,” he pointed at the parchment in his hand.

“What else did you see?” Nicolao insisted, not impressed with his first statement.

“My Lady is coming back to visit us in the spring of her fifteenth birthday,” Drake stated quickly.

“That sounds much better. Will I be alone?” Nyala asked.

“No, My Lady, thy father and this young lady will be with you.”

“Anything more?” she insisted.

“Thy father is going to fall ill and die on your seven­teenth birthday, My Princess.”
~~~


Author Bio:
Anna was born in the extreme South along some famous beaches. She grew up with four other siblings, being placed in the middle.

Anna moved to the USA to marry her husband, Rodney, and has resided in Utah since then. Her husband, a native of Idaho, met her in her hometown. They fell in love and she came to Utah on Christmas Eve to be married two weeks later. They are the parents of three princes and a princess.

Early on in her life she showed an affinity for sewing and took classes that rewarded her with the opportunities of doing costuming for the cast of four musicals, and for Utah’s own Fantasy Con, which she enjoyed immensely. She is fluent in both English and Spanish. Anna lives in Taylorsville, Utah, in a house that is 116 years old.

Some of Anna’s writing recognitions:
Anna received the Editor’s Choice Award from the International Library of Poetry and had her article entitled "A New American Mother" published by Desert Saints Magazine. Her short story entitled "Amerine—Fairy Princess" won an award in the Oquirrh chapter contest and was published by Kalkion Magazine. (Now it is published as an e-book.) Other articles about family and relationship have been published frequently in the MOMS CLUB® of Salt Lake Valley-West.


Anna has published seven books in her Elf series. One won a bronze seal, another first page second place and yet another honorable mention. Her love story was published by Deseret book in the anthology entitled Angels Round About, compiled by July C. Olsen. Another of her articles was included in the book Mother’s Message in a Bottle, edited by Tyler Hayden and published by Ninbus Publishing. Her new series, "A Royal Romance," was published in February, 2015, with the first book being Once Upon Two Kingdoms, which won a first page award. A Kingdom by the Sea, the second book in "A Royal Romance," was published in February, 2016.

Connect with Anna:
Website | Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads


Purchase Link: Kindle

Monday, February 20, 2017

A Reminder, or In Case You Missed It the First Time...

If you didn't see my post on Valentine's Day, you may not have heard that I'm offering my novella, Faith and the Foreman, free to new Email List Subscribers, as part of a promotion by a total of fifteen authors at My Book Cave:


Yes, there are fourteen other ebooks besides Faith and the Foreman, all Clean Romances in a variety of genres. Mine is set in Old Arizona, while at least one is a time-traveling romance. You'll find a historical novel set in the Middle Ages, a few Fantasy works, and several Contemporary Romances. My friends and I hope you'll enjoy our offerings.

Did I forget to mention the drawing for a $10 Gift Card? Be sure to sign up for that!

Since today is Presidents' Day in the United States and thus a Holiday, it's a perfect time to honor the Founding Fathers by downloading and reading a book or novella. Get your downloads here.

Happy Presidents' Day!

Saturday, January 28, 2017

Sample Saturday is Back

I've been dealing with winter storms and power outages and 18-20 inches of snow piled up around my place, so I am treating myself to a bit of diversion by bringing back Saturday Sample today.

Here's a tidbit from a piece I'm working on that I hope to publish later this year.

Julia Helm wiped the streaming tears off her cheeks, then climbed up onto the wooden spring seat of the farm wagon weathered almost white. Jonathan's firm hand on her elbow steadied her some, but the overwhelming sadness that had brought the tears remained. She looked at the stone house, the wooden barn with its wide doors, the early spring fields smelling of molding corn stalks. Why this sadness? I'll see it all again in two months.
She pulled her brown wool cloak more tightly around herself and wrenched her gaze from the house. Couldn't she just tell Jonathan she had changed her mind? Tell her brother to unhitch the team of gray horses while she ran back inside the house and into her small, cozy room to curl up in the comfort of Papa's upholstered chair? Cousin Camilla didn't need her help to prepare for her wedding. Virginia was so far away. The trip would take two weeks! Two weeks of travel behind the rumps of the horses, being jostled and jolted until her young bones couldn't stand another yard, let alone another mile. And all for what? Camilla's gratitude? The chance to see Aunt Susannah again?

The wagon groaned and creaked as Jonathan climbed into the wagon seat on the other side, pausing before he lifted the leather lines to lean over and tuck a brown woolen blanket under her far knee. "Mind you tell me if you get cold," he said, and grinned at her like a crazy man, his breath clouding around his ruddy face underneath his knitted cap.

~~~

What do you think? Does it engage your interest? Tell me if you know who the characters are.

Until the next time, stay warm and healthy!

Saturday, September 10, 2016

Behind the Scenes: Special Project Coming

Last month, I spent a lot of time thinking about my published work and all the future stories I have to tell. I wanted to organize the work into easily identifiable categories. That's when I decided that The Owen Family Saga was complete.

Yes, I have many more stories to write about members of the Owen Family, but as I said back on August 9, there is going to be a gap of several years in the chronology before another story begins.

So I called a halt, capping the series at the five existing novels, and then went a giant step farther and changed the suggested reading order. Since I made those decisions, I've been working on a special project. I'll tell you more on Monday, when I do a Cover Reveal. See you then!


Saturday, July 16, 2016

Sample Saturday - Ride to Raton

Welcome back to Sample Saturday!

Some writers plan out everything they will ever write. When I finished The Man from Shenandoah, I thought I had written the only full-length novel I would ever write. I thought that was it for these people, and any further long-form fiction.

But evidently I had more to tell. I left James Owen sorely wounded in heart and mind, and he demanded that I give him a chance to work through his pain.

Accordingly, I wrote Ride to Raton (It probably should have been called Ride to Raton Pass, but I liked the sound of the three words, and totally forgot the fact that there is a town in New Mexico named Raton). I thought this novel would finish up my account of the Owen family from Virginia.

Boy, was I wrong! The two books have grown to five, with offshoots and spinoffs going in all directions, and more to come.

It's been quite a while since I've posted any scenes or samples from Ride to Raton. This never-before-posted scene occurs after James is shot in Pueblo, Colorado Territory, by a disgruntled former Union soldier. Randolph Hilbrands, a friend of James's father, has taken him into his home to recuperate.
~~~

“Mister James, Mister James, wake up, please? You must be hungry.”

Surprised to hear his name, James rolled over, grinning at the soothing touch of the water on his naked body, and swam upward from exploring the bottom of the pond behind the flour mill on a creek feeding the Shenandoah River. He tried to shrug off the hand that gently touched his right shoulder, but the movement brought such a flood of pain to his side that he moaned before he could catch himself.

“Please, Mister James. Ma said I wasn’t to come back to the kitchen without feeding you. If you don’t wake up soon, your food’ll be stone cold.”

He thrust his head and shoulders above the water, opened one eye, then immediately shut it against the sunlight that streamed through an open window between muslin drapes and hit his face. His body felt bloated, invaded by aches and twitches. And although he was still naked, he seemed to be lying half covered by a sheet and quilt on a bed inside a room, instead of treading water in the millpond.

Someone besides himself was in the room. “Six little beans!” he grunted, trying to shade his eyes with his left hand, remembering that a girl’s voice had addressed him. “It’s brighter than noon day in here. Can you shut them curtains?”

A young girl put the tray of food on the washstand and ran to the window to pull the drapes together. She returned to stand beside the bed, and James blinked his eyes as she drew near.

The girl was about fifteen, he judged, slender and blonde. She wore a white bib apron with a full skirt over a light weight gingham gown patterned with sprigs of lilacs on a white background. Her wavy hair hung below her shoulders, tied back with a white ribbon. The girl smiled, tentatively, and one dimple appeared in her cheek.

“Who’re you?” he asked, wondering how he came to be between the sheets. The last thing he remembered, he had been lying atop the coverlet, enduring the sting of a thousand hornets as Amanda Hilbrands’ needle pierced the flesh of his side. Now he looked around. The tub was gone from the room, and the towel had disappeared from around his hips. James blinked twice, and reached down to draw the sheet over his chest, grateful that the quilt masked his nakedness from the girl.

“I’m Sylvia. My pa runs the hotel. Don’t you recall he brought you here?”

James shut his eyes for a moment, less to remember his arrival than to recall where he had heard the girl’s voice before. He gave his head a shake, then opened his eyes.

“Yeah,” he sighed, a long drawn out sound, and fingered the bandage around his chest. “Your ma put this thread into me a couple of hours ago.”

“That was two days back!” the girl exclaimed. “You’ve been asleep since then.”

“Six little beans! Did I take a fever?” James got himself onto his elbows, and the girl bent forward to put a pillow behind his back so he could sit partway up. As the sheet slipped and gathered in creases about his waist, the girl’s hair brushed his shoulder.

The blonde hair—he could see it on another head, arranged in tumbling ringlets behind a face twisted with fury. A voice—with the same timbre as this girl’s voice—batted at his ears: “You never came around, Carl Owen. Cecil was here. I have a right to marry a man I can trust!”

James shuddered.

“No.” A frown furrowed Sylvia’s forehead. “I reckon you’re just wore out. You been through a lot of woe since you came to Pueblo City.” She turned away to bring the food tray, then sat gingerly on the edge of the bed with the tray on her lap. “This is a good room, though. Pa let Ida use it for her wedding night.”

A wrenching pain invaded James’s gut. Ida Hilbrands had breathed this air, her body had lain on this bed. The body that should have quieted Carl’s lusts was given to an English dandy—on this bed, beneath this quilt. James swallowed. His throat closed on cotton.

The girl touched his wrist. James’s arm twitched under the cool fingers.

“Are you all right, Mister James?”

He cleared his throat. “You sound like your…older sister.”

“You mean Mary?” The girl’s face brightened. “How is her little baby doing? We all want to see her.” Sylvia picked up a spoon and a bowl and stirred the contents.

James again eased the sheet up to cover his chest. “The little gal’s growing, but no, I wasn’t speaking of Mary.” The sheet bunched in his lap again, and James jerked it upward and pinned it underneath his arm.

“Oh. You mean—”

“Ida! I mean Ida.” His voice rasped in his throat as he said the name.

The girl looked puzzled. “Are you angry with Ida?”

James felt his face settling into ridges as he scowled. Angry? The word was wrong. Wrong and far too weak. I hate her. I despise her wide blue eyes and her lying, cheating heart. He cleared his throat again. “I have reason.” His breath left his lungs in a lengthy shudder.

Sylvia looked at him for a moment, puzzlement crinkling the skin around her eyes. Then she picked up a spoon.

“Here, have a taste of porridge. Ma made it fresh for you today.” Sylvia held the spoon to James’s lips, and he accepted the morsel. “What did Ida do to you? I thought it was Carl she threw over.”

For a moment, he could only chew, then swallow. He sensed no taste, no savor. Before he had a chance to speak, Sylvia put another spoonful of mush into his mouth. He swallowed that down, then, as Sylvia brought up another bite, James shook his head.

They’ll know sooner or later. Pa will come in for supplies, or Ma will send a note to Mrs. H. by a passing stranger. He turned his head to look at the doorway. Will I be gone, first? Or will Danny O’Brien shoot me in the back? He looked at the girl and squeezed his hands into fists. The pain forced his mouth open.

“You didn’t hear, I reckon. Carl got over being mad at Ida. He wed Ellen Bates about a week past.”

“Oh, Mister James! She was pledged to you!” Sylvia dropped the spoon into the bowl, and it clanked against the side.

Instantly, he repented of his burst of words. “Forget I said that. Just forget it!”

“I’m sorry.” Sylvia held her hands tightly together in front of her mouth.

James snorted. “It’s done and over.”

“How could that happen?” The girl moved the tray from her lap to the bed and leaned forward.

Bitterness rose in James’s throat, and he turned his head to swallow it down.

Sylvia bounced once on the bed. “Ida caused it. She sure is mean.”

James shuddered anew, slumping against the pillow. “Go away,” he said.

“What?”

“Take your gruel and leave me be. I’m weary.”

“But you didn’t finish.”

“Tell your Ma I fell asleep again. It won’t be a lie. Look. I’m nodding off now.” James shut his eyes.

He heard her get to her feet and pick up the tray. “I reckon I tired you out, talking so much.”

“It’s not you. I’m wore out, like you said.” James twitched the quilt higher on his chest. Suddenly he bolted upright, winced, then lay down again. “You’d better get your papa, girl. I got to put myself deeper in his debt.”
~~~


If you haven't yet read Ride to Raton, here are links for print and ebook copies:
Print books $15.95: Amazon | Barnes and Noble
ebooks $3.99: Smashwords all formats | Kindle | nook | Kobo | iTunes Bookstore

Please remember that in this new world of publishing, YOUR reviews are vital to authors. Go post a review on any of my books, novellas, or short stories you have read. They don't have to be long. You only need to express what you thought about the work, and perhaps why. Did you like the characters? Did the history of the period excite you? Was the story enjoyable? Would you recommend the work to your friends? Writing a review is your chance to do just that.

Thank you!

Saturday, July 09, 2016

Sample Saturday - Faith and the Foreman

Did you see last week's Cover Reveal? No? Fear not, here it is:


You've met Faith and you've met Slim. They both face challenges in their lives, they live in vastly different universes, and they aren't living in any proximity to each other. How are they to meet?

Here's a clue, before next week's release on Friday, July 15th, to online ebook vendors:
~~~


A day later, Faith gasped, tightening her fingers on the day’s newspaper. She looked toward Clarissa, her anxiety seeping away.

“I like that bright light in your eye,” Clarissa said.

“I have a better plan than nursing school.” Faith rose and took the Times to Clarissa.

Her cousin looked up from her needles. Three new white bandages lay rolled beside her on the sofa.

“Look.” Faith showed her the newspaper page. “Here’s an advertisement seeking a school teacher in the West for ten months. The school board will pay transportation costs, provide a living space, groceries, firewood, and they’ll pay a salary besides. I can teach mathematics and reading and writing and... even stitchery! Once I sell the house, the proceeds and a teaching post will provide income sufficient for us both.”

“Hmm. Teaching will suit you better than nursing.” Clarissa resumed her knitting. “How do you win the position?”

Faith crimped the newspaper between her hands. “I must send a telegram immediately to the president of the school board in this town of—” She looked at the advertisement again. “Bitter Springs, Arizona Territory. This will solve our difficulties.”

“You must hurry so your answer to the advertisement arrives ahead of any others.”

“Yes.” Faith hurried to compose a brief message with a list of her academic accomplishments and prepared to go to the telegraph office. “That should serve. Let’s pray I’m the most worthy applicant.”
~~~


While you're waiting for next Friday's release of Faith and the Foreman, be sure to pick up and read a copy of my latest novel, The Zion Trail:

The Zion Trail
$3.99 for ebooks; $12.99 for print books
Ebooks: Smashwords | Kindle | Nook | Kobo | Apple iBooks Store
 

If you haven't read it yet, here are purchase links for my last novella, Blood at Haught Springs. I encourage you to read it. Take note that it's the first in a new series, Men of Haught Springs.


Available as an Ebook only
$2.99 at the following online retail outlets:
Smashwords all formats | Kindle | Nook | Kobo | Apple iTunes Bookstore
~~~

Please remember that in this new world of publishing, YOUR reviews are vital to authors. Go post a review on any of my books, novellas, or short stories you have read. They don't have to be long. You only need to express what you thought about the work, and perhaps why. Did you like the characters? Did the history of the period excite you? Was the story enjoyable? Would you recommend the work to your friends? Writing a review is your chance to do just that.

Thank you!

Thursday, July 07, 2016

Events for July

July is here! Half the year is gone, but lots of excitement remains.

I'm participating in two month-long events. One is Smashwords' Summer/Winter Sale, celebrating both seasons around the world. The other is for readers who like books with sweet content, especially those by LDS (Mormon) authors. Prizes for the Summer Book Trek from sponsors like me are books which may or may not have LDS content.

I'm giving away an ebook copy of The Zion Trail, which is a story about Mormon Pioneers. Sign up at the link given below for a Rafflecopter full of fun things to do to enter you in the giveaways.


Summer Book Trek

A chance to read and review great books all month long, Summer Book Trek runs from July 1 through July 31, and features a Rafflecopter for prizes such as The Zion Trail and other books from a multitude of LDS authors.

Here's the link for more details and the sign up.


~~~~~


Smashwords' Summer/Winter Sale

July 1 through July 31
Only at the Smashwords site

Each July, Smashwords, the online ebook distributor and retailer, holds a world-wide ebook sale celebrating both Summer and Winter (in the Southern Hemisphere).

From July 1 through July 31, ebooks from participating authors are discounted on the Smashwords site only, from 25 to 75 percent. Some are offered free. Gone for a Soldier, the huge prequel novel to the Owen Family Saga, is discounted by 75%. Use coupon code SSW75 at checkout to pay $1.25 for the novel.

Check out the books from thousands of other participating authors. Here’s the sitewide sale link.


~~~~~

The two events above are not the limit of my activities during July. I'm getting out of the house for an in-person book signing at the Payson Book Festival on July 23.


PAYSON BOOK FESTIVAL

presented by
ARIZONA PROFESSIONAL WRITERS and GILA COMMUNITY COLLEGE
A community celebration of books for all ages in the cool pines!
July 23, 2016, 9 a.m. – 4 p.m.
Gila Community College
201 N. Mud Springs Road
(north off Hwy 260 East)

* Free to the public, this event promotes literacy and showcases local and Arizona authors representing many genres of fiction and non-fiction.
* Meet 70 authors; enjoy book signings and presentations
* Kids can meet “Story Monster” and enjoy story time
* Food from local vendors on site
* Free entertainment and door prizes

Look for me outside at Table 14. A limited quantity of my novels will be for sale in the bookstore, and I'll be happy to personalize and sign them for you.


See you there!

Saturday, July 02, 2016

Sample Saturday - Faith and the Foreman

Today, not only do you get a scene from this touching novella that's going to be released on July 15, but a cover reveal, as well! I give you Faith and the Foreman...
~~~


“Slim! Slim McHenry!”

When Amos Ramsey bellowed his name, Slim changed direction from going toward the bunkhouse to heading for the boss. What did he do to make Mr. Ramsey so angry? He couldn’t recall any slip-up today. “Yes, sir?” he said, hoping he still had a job.

“Dan Crowley is leaving. After ten years!” Amos glowered at Slim. “His wife claims he’s too busted up to cowboy anymore. She’s taking him off to Tucson.”

“That’s bad news, boss. He’s a good foreman.”

“You’re takin’ his place. Ask Dan what to do.”

Mr. Ramsey walked off, leaving Slim with his jaw hanging open. Foreman! He wants me to be foreman? He whistled in surprise, struck by the man’s abrupt manner. Usually Ol’ Amos enjoyed conversing with his cowhands, but not tonight. Could be he’s upset about Dan quitting, but he could’ve been more forthcoming with the details of the job. He hoped Hoosier Dan was of a mind to enlighten him.

Slim started toward the foreman’s little bungalow in back of the main house. If Dan wasn’t at supper, Mrs. Crowley would know where he was.

Dan was sitting down to eat, but he took time to shake Slim’s hand and give him a rundown on his new responsibilities.

Half an hour later, Slim left, his head swimming and his hand sore from Dan’s enthusiastic congratulations. Each night I check with Ol’ Amos about the next day’s work, then parcel out the tasks in the morning. I fancy I’m up to the job. Maybe. Before trepidation took over, he went to eat his own supper, wondering how the cowhands would receive the news.

He supposed he could count on Curly Price to offer congratulations. He and Curly had ridden together for several years and were good friends. Baldy Babbitt would most likely put on a pout, but he wouldn’t want the job either. Too much responsibility.

Slim decided none of the other hands would give him more than occasional grief and sass, except Rance Hunter. He snorted. Hunter was a difficult case, prickly as could be. He was the boss’s stepson, but there was no love lost between them.

Slim paused to slap the horseshoe hung over the bunkhouse door before he entered to eat. He would need all the luck he could get.

~~~

Have you purchased your copy of Blood at Haught Springs yet?
Did you review it on Amazon?


Here are the purchase links.
$2.99 at the following online retail outlets:
Smashwords all formats | Kindle | Nook | Kobo | Apple iTunes Bookstore

Thanks! See you next week.

Saturday, June 18, 2016

Sample Saturday - Faith and the Foreman

A long time ago, I started a novel that I called Slim and the Schoolmarm. Somewhere along the way, I was persuaded to write a synopsis of the book for a contest. That was fatal to the novel: my brain told me I had written the story, and I couldn't get it started again.

Fast forward many years. I received an invitation to contribute a novella to a collection. I brushed off Slim and the Schoolmarm, changed the name to Faith and the Foreman, started the story all over again, and turned it into the novella that I had contracted to write.

Faith and the Foreman was published two years ago in the Old West Collection, volume nine of the series from Mirror Press entitled A Timeless Romance Anthology. Now it's time to publish it as a stand alone short. Look for it later this summer.

~~~

A bell jangled on the horse-drawn street car outside as Faith Bannister folded the letter she’d been reading and rose to pace the room. After two circuits, she stopped before her cousin. “I am ruined.”

Clarissa Pembroke looked up from the bandage she was knitting and shook her head. “The news can’t be all that bad, dear. We’ve managed to survive the bank crisis fairly well thus far.”

Faith waved the letter. “The interest on my stocks is practically zero.”

“You should have told me, Faith. I must try harder to find employment.” Clarissa breathed heavily. “I can’t believe my usefulness as a nurse is over because of a few gray hairs.” She straightened her back as though in denial of aging. “I’m going to a lecture tonight to keep up with advancing science. Doctor Harley will speak on treating poisons.”

“You shouldn’t have to support me, Clarissa. I’ll sell the house to that fat banker who lusts after it.”

“Faith! Mind your language.”

“He’s wanted it ever since Poppa and Mama got killed.” She bit a fingernail, then removed her finger from her teeth at Clarissa’s continuing reproachful look. “I know. Mama tried so hard to break me of that.” She brushed a blonde curl away from her misting eye and whispered, “Stocks and bonds are no replacement for one’s family. I’m most grateful for your companionship.”

Clarissa wiped her own tearing eyes.

Faith turned away. “Perhaps I can enter the nursing school at Bellevue Hospital. Mr. Spencer offered a price sufficient to pay tuition and allow me to rent an apartment.” She shrugged. “I’ll have to let the servants go. If it appears I don’t have time to train as a nurse before we’re destitute, I’ll become a governess or a shop clerk.”

Clarissa shook herself as though to restore a cheerful outlook. “Let’s not fret about finances now, dear. Come with me tonight and enjoy the lecture.” She held up her knitting. “This bandage will be finished by then, and I’ll have another eleven for the good doctor.”
~~~


Have you purchased your copy of Blood at Haught Springs yet?


Here are the purchase links.
$2.99 at the following online retail outlets:
Smashwords all formats | Kindle | Nook | Kobo | Apple iTunes Bookstore

Saturday, May 14, 2016

Sample Saturday: Blood at Haught Springs

Welcome to Sample Saturday. Later this month, I'll release a novella, which will be the first of several tales in a new series: The Men of Haught Springs. Here's a snippet from the story of brothers at odds, Blood at Haught Springs.
~~~
By closing time, Lonnie had not returned to the store. Wes shrugged off his dissatisfaction. His brother had probably headed home early to bear tales to Dad of how badly Wes had treated him. Sack of lazy bones, he thought, and locked the front door. He had one stop to make at the butcher’s, then he’d get home.

The house was a mere block away when Wes had completed his errand, and he covered the distance at a fast pace, gripping the valise in one hand, and a parcel containing a cut of beef in the other. Maggie, the Haught's housekeeper, had requested a roast for tomorrow's dinner. Wes had first thought of bringing home a goose someone had brought in to trade for groceries, but had dismissed the idea. Dad shouldn't have rich poultry yet. Beef broth is better for him while he mends.

Grove Haught's injuries had come about when he was thrown from the seat of a freight wagon and run over by a wheel. Fortunately for him, Wes had run to stop the team before the second wheel crushed his father’s chest.  Even so, the first wheel had done significant damage, and Dad had been in bed recuperating for some time.

This morning, he had seemed better, and said he wanted to get out of bed and sit in the parlor for a while. He had grudgingly accepted Wes's assistance, after asking why Lonnie hadn’t volunteered to do the task. Wes had to explain that Lonnie had already left the house to get in his gun practice before the store opened.

Wes hoped the evening at home would go better than the morning had. Someday Dad will see I'm of more worth than a dozen of Lonnie. He half expected his father to fit out his brother in a coat of many colors, like the man in the Bible had done for his favorite son. Before Lonnie could gain more favor with their father, Wes was determined to prove his worth. Today, he had made a good start, getting those leases sewn up.

A wash of satisfaction swept over him, and he grinned. Another pleasant thought popped into his mind. Miss Nina. Matters could not look better in that department. She as much as begged me to see her again. He realized he hadn’t firmed up any plans to that effect. I’ll have to make an appointment to take her on a picnic or to a dance as soon as possible. He inhaled a lungful of sweet night air and decided that, on balance, it had been a splendid day.

~~~

Watch for next week's cover reveal for Blood at Haught Springs.

Have you picked up a copy of my new novel, The Zion Trail?
If you've already read it, please post a review at Amazon. Thank you!

The Zion Trail
 $3.99 for ebooks; $12.99 for print books
ebooks: Smashwords | Kindle | Nook | Kobo | Apple iBooks Store
print books: CreateSpace | Amazon | Barnes and Noble

Saturday, April 09, 2016

Sample Saturday: Blood at Haught Springs

Welcome to Sample Saturday! A new, prosperous-looking customer has walked through the door of Haught's General Store and Commercial Emporium, and Wesley Haught has turned to be of service. He's had a busy morning, and his mood has been soured from an encounter with his younger brother, but now perhaps things were looking up.. 

This tidbit is from my forthcoming novella, Blood at Haught Springs.
~~~



Wes scraped up a smile for the new customer. “I'm sorry for the wait, sir. I'm Wesley Haught. What can I do for you?”

“My name is Ferrell Badger. I was informed that this is the place to lease property in town. Is that correct?” The man's voice held a no-nonsense note.

Wes's smile broadened. I thought that suit meant money. “Yes, sir. Haught Enterprises handles such transactions. I'm at your service.” He wouldn't bother calling Lonnie to take on the job like he was supposed to do, since he'd been acting like a jerk this morning. It would serve him right if Wes brought in the business instead. Maybe Dad will spare me a little praise, for once.

“I was given the name of Grove Haught.” The man pursed his lips. “Is he here?”

“He's my father,” Wes replied. He shook his head. “He's home mending from a broken leg.” Dad's injuries were somewhat more serious than merely a broken leg, but the stranger didn't need to know that. “I can help you, sir.” Much better than Lonnie can. “Does this concern a house?” He hoped it did. His glance shifted briefly to the girl, who was presently occupied in inspecting a bolt of lavender-colored cloth, feeling the texture of the fabric as she ran her fingers over the surface.

When Mr. Badger made a sound, Wes pulled his attention back to the man.

“A house, yes, but also a building. I noticed the brick structure at the corner appears to be vacant.”

Wes felt his pulse quicken. Two leases! “Ah. That was the bank, but the crisis a few . . .” His words trailed off as he realized he wasn't putting the town's best foot forward. “Yes, that building is available, Mr. Badger. I can show it to you right away.” I hope Lonnie swept it out this week.

He stooped to rummage for the key in a box beneath the counter, and ran the housing possibilities through his mind. The same financial downturn that had forced Banker Pierce from his business had left his large house empty, as well. The no-nonsense set of Mr. Badger's shoulders, combined with his fine suit, spoke of wealth and privilege. The man wouldn't look twice at the rundown Peterson homestead, but the banker's home was a much grander affair, well suited to a rich gentleman's needs.

Wes remembered the place well. After all, his father had built it for his mother when times had been better. Before she and his little sister had died. Before the pain of living in an empty house had become too overwhelming. Before Dad had sold the mansion to Mr. Pierce.

He straightened, holding two tagged keys in his palm. “We can also lease you a fine house, Mr. Badger. You may have seen it as you drove into town. The large white house beside the river?” He gestured in the direction of the site out of town.

The man seemed to consider his recall of the property for a moment. “That could fit my requirements,” he said, frowning a bit, as though he must inspect every inch to be sure.

“Since we can walk over to the bank building, I'll show you around that first, then I'll hitch up the buggy and take you out to see the house,” Wes said, his eyes wandering toward the daughter. “The young lady might like to give her thoughts on the habitation.” He hoped his voice held the same firm note of confidence that his father's always had as he tended to land and property affairs. Wes very much wanted to make the girl's acquaintance, as soon as he could.

“Yes, I suppose Nina should approve of the house,” Mr. Badger said.

Nina. That was her name. Wes's toes tingled. That hadn't happened over a female since Mary Beth Cockrum threw him over in favor of Calvin Greenwood six months before. Now the sensation had returned. Woo-eee! Nina!
~~~

While you're waiting to see what's next for Wes Haught, I suggest you pick up a copy of my new novel, The Zion Trail:
$3.99 for ebooks; $12.99 for print books
ebooks: Smashwords | Kindle | Nook | Kobo | Apple iBooks Store

print books: CreateSpace | Amazon | Barnes and Noble
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