UPDATE: The winner is…Colleen C!
*~*~*

Everyone knows who Rosa Parks is and why we know about her, but very few know about Elizabeth Jennings Graham.

Born free in 1827, Elizabeth grew up in New York, a child of the African-American bourgeoisie known as the “Talented Tenth.” Hers was a family of activists committed to uplifting the race. Her mother wrote an address for ten-year-old Elizabeth to deliver at the meeting of the Ladies Literary Society of New York. The society was founded by New York’s elite African-American women to promote self-improvement through community activities, reading, and discussion. Elizabeth’s speech focused on how the neglect of cultivating the mind would keep African-Americans inferior to whites. Her father helped found the Wilberforce Philanthropic Society, an African-American self-help organization named after the British abolitionist.

Elizabeth worked as a schoolteacher in the African Free School then in public schools and as a church organist at the First Colored American Congregational Church. On Sunday, July 16, 1854 on her way to church, she and a friend boarded a horse-drawn streetcar in Lower Manhattan. By custom, this was allowable if no White passengers objected. None did but the conductor still ordered them off. Despite being attacked by the conductor and the driver, Elizabeth refused to be moved. She was finally forced off with the help of a policeman.

This incident, much like Rosa Parks’ arrest, led to an organized movement to desegregate streetcars. The movement’s leaders were Jennings’ father, Rev. Henry Highland Garnet and Rev. James W.C. Pennington. Her father filed a lawsuit on her behalf against the driver, the conductor, and the Third Avenue Railroad Company. Her case was handled by 24-year-old Chester A. Arthur, who became the 21st president of the U.S. In 1855, the Brooklyn Circuit Court ruled in her favor and awarded her damages and her legal fees. Even though the Third Avenue Railroad Company desegregated their line the day after the ruling, it took another ten years before public transportation in New York was fully desegregated.

Elizabeth married Charles Graham in 1860, survived the New York Draft Riots of 1863, moved with her family to New Jersey, then after her husband’s death in 1867, returned to New York. She went on to found and operate the first kindergarten for African-American children in her home. She died at age 74 in 1901.

One hundred years later, Rosa Parks’ refusal to give up her seat to a White man sparked the historic Montgomery Alabama Bus Boycott of 1955 and led to an Elizabeth-Jennings-style desegregation victory in 1956. Maybe, someday, a young person will write a blog post of their own entitled, Rosa Parks: the Elizabeth Jennings of the 1950s.

For a chance to win a $10 Amazon gift card leave a comment about an undersung historic event or person you’ve learned about.

Better To Marry Than To Burn

Wife Wanted: Marital relations as necessary. Love not required nor sought…

A bridal lottery seems the height of foolishness to ex-slave Caesar King, but his refusal to participate in the town council’s scheme places him in a bind. He has to get married to avoid paying a high residence fine or leave the Texas territory. After losing his wife in childbirth, Caesar isn’t ready for romance. A woman looking for a fresh start without any emotional strings is what he needs.
Queen Esther Payne, a freeborn black from Philadelphia, has been threatened by her family for her forward-thinking, independent ways. Her family insists she marry. Her escape comes in the form of an ad. If she must marry, it will be on her terms. But her first meeting with the sinfully hot farmer proves an exciting tussle of wills that stirs her physically, intellectually, and emotionally.
In the battle of sexual one-upmanship that ensues, both Caesar and Queen discover surrender can be as fulfilling as triumph.

Excerpt from Better to Mary Than to Burn…

“I do many things, Miss Payne.” He pushed up the brim of his hat and grinned, fired up by the hazel flame sparking in her eyes. “Pretending to be a gentleman doesn’t number among them.”

She firmed her full lips into a thin, angry line. “But you do aspire to establish a legacy—like a gentleman would.”

“If marrying you to leave a legacy makes me a gentleman, then I must agree. Although, your letter made it clear you weren’t looking for a gentleman. In fact, if you had your way, you wouldn’t be looking for a man at all…gentlemanly or otherwise.”

She responded with a slight rise in her eyebrows.

He thumbed over his shoulder. “Our marriage carriage awaits.”

He sauntered toward his wagon, not surprised to find when he looked back, her highness hadn’t moved. But uncertainty colored her imperiousness and rippled in her frown.

“The stagecoach back East isn’t due until midday tomorrow,” he shouted.

“Hmmpf.” She turned her back on him, presenting a bustle-less skirt that outlined a behind, round and ripe for his inspection.

He huffed out a breath, cupped his hands and shouted again.

“We’ve a minister waiting…if you’re staying.”

Of course, she was staying. She’d never have agreed to marry him if she’d had another choice. Philadelphia’s Lombard Street, a bastion of black privilege it may be, had only one place for a daughter of Lesbos who wouldn’t marry: the insane asylum. Marriage to him here in the West was her last—and probably only—refuge.

Buylink: https://amzn.to/2KTaGPH

Every new release is special, but the Salvation Pack will always hold a special place in my heart. The original five-book series became nine. And now the second installment of the Salvation Pack: The Next Generation series is here.

I’d originally planned much different stories for these two, but they had other ideas…

Wolf in Pursuit
Salvation Pack: The Next Generation, Book 2

Etienne Rollins is in hot pursuit of Amy Blanchard, the female he wants to mate. Her sheltered upbringing has left her questioning her future and place in the pack. The sizzling attraction between them, the change in their relationship from friend to romantic interest, confused her even more, so she fled. He’s tracked her to a bar in Tennessee and not a moment too soon, as she’s caught the attention of two unattached, unknown male wolves—the Landry brothers.

Amy uses Etienne’s unexpected arrival to explore the sensual heat pulsing between them. Not easy to do while handling the Landry brothers, a violent confrontation with some humans, a kidnapping, and fleeing a crazed wolf who wants to use her to get back at the Landrys. If she survives, she’ll need to confront her feelings for Etienne once and for all.

Excerpt from Wolf in Pursuit…

There was no way to avoid the bar any longer. She had three tables waiting on drinks. Head forward, she marched up to the far end, keeping a few stools between them as she gave Gracie her orders.

“You seem tense.” Etienne tilted his head to one side and frowned.

She bit her lip to keep from falling into hysterical laughter. “You think.” She thought about banging her head against the bar, but that would hurt and it wouldn’t do anything about her current predicament.

“What can I do to help?” The concern surprised her. Not that he cared about her—she already knew that—but that he’d actually ask her what she wanted, rather than jumping right in and doing whatever he thought was best. The men in her pack were loving and caring, but they could also be a tad overbearing and even dictatorial at times.

She rubbed her hand over her face, trying to ignore the knots in her stomach. Why was life so complicated? Everything had been so easy when she was a little girl. She’d believed her daddy could solve any problem, slay any dragon, and he always had, handling all her tiny concerns with great seriousness, never making her feel like a bother. But this was one only she could tackle.

Sometimes being an adult sucked.

“I honestly don’t know.” Taking a deep breath, she rallied. “I’m not your problem.”

“Chère, you’re anything but a problem. You’re a joy and a gift.” The low, intimate tone made her toes curl and her breath catch in her throat. How was she supposed to respond to that? Her wolf pawed, wanting out so she could rub herself against him. The animal part of her had desperately missed her pack. Being alone sucked for a wolf.

*~*~*

If you want to read more of Etienne and Amy’s story, you can find it here:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09QLR7JLR/
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1127607
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wolf-in-pursuit-n-j-walters/1140901326
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/wolf-in-pursuit
Evernight Publishing: https://www.evernightpublishing.com/wolf-in-pursuit-by-n-j-walters/

And if you’re interested in finding out more about the original SALVATION PACK series, go here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0753H2PLQ/

About the Author

N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, assassins, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.

Visit me at:
Website: http://www.njwalters.com
Blog: http://www.njwalters.blogspot.com
Newsletter Sign Up: http://eepurl.com/gdblg5
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/N.J.WaltersAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/njwaltersauthor
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/NJWalters
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/njwalters
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/n-j-walters

UPDATE: The winner is…K Campos!
*~*~*

Thanks to Delilah for hosting me again!

When I asked for this date, it was because I had planned to have the last book in my Rafferty Ridge series releasing next week, but life had other plans. So many plans. I have always written. I write in my head as I’m driving (wish I could master dictation but somehow it doesn’t work for me), I write in my head as I’m cooking, showering, watching TV. But finding time to write at an actual computer the last month or so has been HARD. My husband had hernia surgery in January and can’t lift anything over ten pounds and with two young kids, a full-time job in healthcare and so much laundry I could probably fill an 18-wheeler, writing kept getting pushed back. The last two years have felt like a juggling act, just trying to keep all the balls in the air with work, family, kids, school, something to keep myself sane like running or quilting. But it ends up feeling like I’m doing everything at a bare minimum, and that’s hard with writing. You want to put your best work forward and when you have limited time and energy, that’s where writing starts to be pushed to the back burner.

But I’m also working on being kinder to myself, we are all struggling right now and as much as I love to write, it shouldn’t be adding to my stress. The book will be finished at some point, but I am not exactly sure when. And that’s okay. In the meanwhile, the first two books in the series, Where the Light Comes In and The Way Back Home, are both available on Amazon and are really fun, quick reads. And I just might leave you scratching your head wondering how I’m going to redeem Sarah in book three (I’m still working on it).

What are some things that you have struggled with during this pandemic? What are some self-care things you have found that helped? Leave a comment for a chance to win a $5 Amazon card!

The Way Back Home

EXCERPT from The Way Back Home:

“You’re not going to say anything?”

Teo raised his eyes to hers, and they caught her like a fishhook. A glimpse of that old hurt, of a raw vulnerability that almost took her breath away. “You just sustained a head injury, My. It’s not the time.”

“When is the time? Because the minute you can get rid of me, you will, and I’ll never see you again.” She wished she could keep her voice flat, emotionless, but it cracked on the tail end.

He looked away, at the refrigerator that had started humming. “What difference does it make at this point?”

She stared at him. The protective shell she’d built had been ripped off and it hurt as much as the day he’d left. “What difference does it make? Did I really mean that little to you?” Her voice rose, thickening with emotion and anger.

“Mean that little to me?” For the first time she heard anger in his voice, real emotion that broke through that carefully hardened exterior. His posture changed, no longer languid, his body tensed like was readying for battle. “You were the one…” He trailed off, losing steam, and turned, bracing his hands on the counter. The muscles in his back and shoulders sagged under the thermal shirt.

“I was the one what?” Maya asked, uncertainty edged into her tone. The air had been sucked out of the room at his outburst and she couldn’t breathe.

His voice became flat and emotionless again. She couldn’t see his face, but his shoulders sagged. “You need to rest.”

“I was the one what?” she asked again. Her voice betrayed the tension that was making her headache worse. She wanted him to say it. She was the one who’d gotten pregnant. Who had ruined everything. She was the one.

The silence hung between them, the clatter of the fridge, the harsh sound of her breath in the cold air. And her heart squeezed and ached, still pathetically clinging to a shred of hope.

He didn’t move, didn’t turn, but his words had the impact of a sledgehammer. “You were the one that didn’t want me.”

UPDATE: The winner is…Alison Rush!
*~*~*

Happy New Year everyone,

In One Breath Away, my heroine, Mary Hamilton, is an excellent cook who dreams of one day owning her own restaurant. She does not let her life as a former slave determine her destiny. I do my best to depict heroines who have believable flaws yet are resilient. African-American history provides me with many women upon whom I can base them. One such woman is Maggie Lena Walker, the first African-American woman bank president.

The years following the demise of Reconstruction were ones of enormous setbacks to the civil rights of the newly freed as well as those who had never been enslaved. Yet despite laws rolling back their rights and violence from groups like the Ku Klux Klan, African-Americans progressed because of people like Maggie Lena Walker.

She was born Maggie Lena Mitchell in 1864 in Richmond, Virginia. She was able to attend public schools established for African-Americans in the 1870s and trained as a teacher. She taught for three years but had to resign because she got married.

In 1881, she joined an African-American fraternal society, the Independent Order of Saint Luke, which like other fraternal orders worked for the social and financial advancement of their African-American communities. For sixteen years, she held various positions in the Order, and after becoming its General Secretary, took the organization from bankruptcy to solvency in the twenty-five years she held the position.

In 1901, she shared her vision to charter a bank, start a newspaper, and open a department store. All three came to pass. In 1903 the Saint Luke Penny Savings Bank opened its doors thus making her the first African-American female bank president. She is quoted as saying, “Let us have a bank that will take the nickels and turn them into dollars.” Her bank merged with two other banks to become the Consolidated Bank and Trust Company in 1930. It weathered the storm of the Great Depression when many other banks closed and remained the oldest Black-owned bank in continuous operation until 2005.

Despite personal tragedies and failing health, Maggie continued to model and encourage self-sufficiency in her African-American community until her death in 1934. You can learn more about this remarkable woman in Muriel Miller Branch’s article at https://encyclopediavirginia.org.

When I learn about women like Maggie Lena Walker, I am mindful of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s TED talk, “The Danger of a Single Story.” Adichie warns that “if we only hear a single story about a person or country, we risk a critical misunderstanding.” Writing characters like Mary Hamilton who mirror the resilience and resolve of women like Maggie Lena Walker is my way of thwarting the danger inherent in a single story.

For a chance to win a $10 Amazon gift card, share in the comments fictional characters you’ve encountered who have help you thwart the danger of a single story.

One Breath Away

Sentenced to hang for a crime she didn’t commit, former slave Mary Hamilton was exonerated at literally the last gasp. She returns to Safe Haven, broken and resigned to live alone. Never having been courted, cuddled or spooned, Mary now fears any kind of physical intimacy when arousal forces her to relive the asphyxiation of her hanging. But then the handsome stranger who saved her shows up, stealing her breath from across the room and promising so much more.

Wealthy freeborn-Black Eban Thurman followed Mary to Safe Haven, believing a relationship with Mary was foretold by the stars. He must marry her to reclaim his family farm. But first he must help her heal, and to do that means revealing his own predilection for edgier sex.

Then just as Eban begins to win Mary’s trust, an enemy from the past threatens to keep them one breath away from love…

Excerpt from One Breath Away…

Lately, a lot of us could use a calm little oasis amidst the chaos in the world. Since things have been chaotic for a while now, I decided to find a hobby that helps me to relax and decompress at the end of the day. I got inspired seeing people filling their planners and journals with cute art and I decided to take the trend of “junk journaling,” to a comforting and cozy level. I use a regular 6 ring binder planner to fill with things that spark cozy feelings for me.

First, I went through photos I’ve taken that bring up warm memories and enlarged them. I printed out a picture of a ballet class puzzle that I loved as a kid because I had made up backstories for all the little girls in it. I also made a divider for the planner out of the wallpaper I had when I was a teen.

I included photos of places I love to visit (shown are pics from my trip to New York City which inspired a scene in my In Over Her Head: Lights, Camera, Anxiety book and a photo I took of Lake Michigan which is the setting in my YA novel, Competing with the Star). I also included pictures of my comfort TVs shows like The Great North, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, American Dad, Being Erica, and anything that brings me a little boost on the hard days. Then there’s the section I called the “Mood Booster.” In it, I keep playlists of songs with headers like uplifting, fun songs, inspirational, and comfort songs to cry along with on the days I just want something to get my emotions out without going into a full fledge sob fest.

Since I loved making collages when I was a teen, I went on Pinterest to look up things from that time period like magazine covers of my celebrity crushes back then. Being a YA author, going down memory lane also sparks new story ideas for me. I even purchased an old teen magazine from an online site and cut out some of the ads and article pictures and stuck them in the planner using double side tape. That all goes in my nostalgia section.

Flipping through this planner never fails to make me smile as it takes me out of a harsh reality and into a happier place. It’s the perfect little boost on the hard days and an inexpensive way to use your creative side.

Have you tried journaling? Is it something you’d like to give a try?

Competing with the Star

Excerpt from my YA contemporary romance (with a happily ever after ending), Competing with the Star…

In this scene, Hadley is on a perfect date with her boyfriend, Nick. However, then she overhears some girls talking about how Nick has always had a crush on her friend, Simone, who just happens to be a gorgeous teen TV star. Hadley doesn’t know what to think–is her perfect relationship real or not?

“You know, this is the first time we haven’t had people watching our every move,” Nick said and then he wrapped his arms around my waist and smiled at me. I felt like I was melting and my cheeks flushed. He leaned over and kissed me.

It was the first time we had a long kiss, and it was exactly like all my YA novels described the perfect kiss—like the rest of the world had drifted away and there was just the two of us and we were so happy.

Then he kissed my forehead and just held me for a minute, and I never wanted to go back to where our parents were sitting. I just wanted to stay like this forever—in a place where everything was perfect and we were happy.

“Okay, one more kiss and I’ll let you go to the bathroom,” he said, leaning over.

I went inside the bathroom to the first stall where I overheard some girls talking.

“How awkward is it that Simone Hendrickson is with Nick Jenkins and some other chick?” said a voice a stall or two over.

“Oh, I know! I wonder if that’s to make her jealous or what? You can tell he still likes Simone so much. I mean, his arm around her when she was anxious? So sweet.”

“It’s obvious he never got over his crush on her,” the first girl said. “And they’re together all the time.”

“Yeah, I think before she saw him as a brother, but now it’s clear there’s something there.”

“He got hot. He was cute before, but now he’s hot.”

“The way he ran to her side when she was freaking out over the fun house—oh my gosh, so sweet. I legit died when he held her hand.”

“They’re adorable together, don’t you think?” “Yeah, but I feel bad for the girl he’s with. She seems clueless about what’s going on right in front of her face.”

“Mmhmm, but she looks young and dumb, so she’s probably just happy to be with him and not expecting it to last.”

I stood there feeling all the blood drain away from my face. I wanted to scream and cry, but all I could do was feel my stomach twist up. I prayed I wouldn’t throw up. Simone and Nick? No, this couldn’t be happening. She was supposed to be my friend—my guide to get me through high school. I trusted her and counted on her to be there for me. And Nick wasn’t just my boyfriend—he was my best guy friend. And even though I hadn’t gotten the courage to say it to him, I was in love with him. He was the last thing I thought about before I went to sleep, and just knowing he was out there and on my side, supporting me in everything I did, made life seem a little easier. I thought it was us against the world, and now, according to these girls in the bathroom, the “us” I believed in might not even be real.

Want to read more? Find the book here: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08W7M7FGW

About the Author

Author Bio: Krysten Lindsay Hager writes about friendship, self-esteem, fitting in, frenemies, crushes, fame, first loves, and values. She is the author of the Cecily Taylor Series, The Star Series, Landry’s True Colors Series, and Dating the It Guy. Krysten’s work has been featured in USA Today, The Flint Journal, the Grand Haven Tribune, the Beavercreek Current, the Bellbrook Times, Springfield News-Sun, Grand Blanc View, Dayton Daily News and on Living Dayton, as well as Michigan Avenue Media Podcast.

Website: http://www.krystenlindsay.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/krystenlindsay/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KrystenLindsayHagerAuthor
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/krystenlindsay/
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Krysten-Lindsay-Hager/e/B00L2JC9P2
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/krysten-lindsay-hager

Are you a fan of the Marvel Heroes?

To be honest, I wasn’t…not until two years ago when my kids asked if I would have a “movie marathon” with them. Having teens, I learned to never turn down an opportunity to hang out because they’re always busy. We started with the first and worked our way through, I think, 25 more. It didn’t happen in one day or week. But over a month or so, we would all come together, with snacks and blankets, and watch the next Marvel. I can’t say that I remember all the timelines, galaxies, characters, etc, but what I will always remember is how much fun it was making memories with my family.

I do have a favorite. Guardians of the Galaxy 1&2. Do you have a favorite movie? Character?

I’m sharing pictures of a road trip my youngest and I took over the weekend and ended up at Cosi for the Marvel exhibit.

All Cowboy & Heart

Excerpt from my latest release, All Cowboy & Heart…

He leaned against the edge of the dresser, savoring her with those alluring eyes, looking mighty fine. “Dusty’s an interesting name for a girl. Is that a nickname?”

“I guess my dad wanted a boy, but instead he got me.” She set the bottle down, cleared a spot on the desk then lifted herself up to sit.

“I have a feeling you gave your dad a run for his money.” One thick brow popped up over those twinkling eyes.

“I certainly surprised him a time or two. He was your traditional male role model. You know the type. A penis makes you a man and a vagina makes you good with your hands in the kitchen.” She lifted the bottle, taking another nip, starting to feel very relaxed.

“Do you cook?”

“Does boiling water count?” She wiped the back of her hand across her lips. “I’m not much for cooking or baking, but then, I never tried. I was a bit rebellious.”

“Oh, you had something to prove, huh? Always doing the complete opposite of what was expected of you.”

“A woman can do anything a man can do, sometimes better.” She crossed her legs and leaned back on her hands. “I haven’t ever needed a man, except for one thing.” Did she hear a low growl from him when she pointedly dropped her gaze to his zipper?

“Ah, come on. We’re good at loosening tight lids on jars and saving beautiful women from bastards.”

“I have one of those handy dandy rubber gadgets. Works like a charm. And eventually I would have saved myself from Griff. You were definitely a bonus though.”

“How about plunging toilets? I haven’t met a woman yet who likes that task.”

“I have the plumber’s number on speed dial. You’ll have to try harder than that, Cowboy.”

“Is that a challenge?” he asked.

“If you see fit. I’ve always liked a challenge myself.” Against her better judgement she took another drink.

His grin widened. “I’m not surprised. So, Dusty…” he said her name with an even drawl that made her toes curl. “What’s your last name?”

“Why don’t we keep some things a mystery.” She found it quite satisfying teasing him. The verbal foreplay was an absolute turn on.

“Now how’s that fair? You know my full name, my brother, and a few of my secrets.”

With a casual shrug, she handed over the bottle for him to drink. In the golden candlelight his eyes were a shade darker, like the sky before a rainfall. “We both know we didn’t come back here to talk, Cowboy.” He passed the bottle again. She licked a droplet of whiskey off her top lip as she pulled it away from her mouth.

Buy here

About the Author

Rhonda Lee Carver is a bestselling author of contemporary western and romantic suspense, but she loves to write other genres too. She’s known for writing stories that keep readers laughing, crying, gripping the edge of their seats, and screaming all in one book…like riding a virtual roller coaster. Whether she’s creating sexy cowboys or tough guys, or sassy, independent heroines, readers are sure to find strong, powerful, memorable characters that are relatable.

By day, she taps into her creative, fictional world but at some point she transitions back into reality where she’s a volleyball-stands cheerleader, homework virtuoso (at least she thinks so), amateur nurse to skinned knees, mediocre chef with some awesome microwave skills, pet-guru (all the strays show up at her house), and a Jackie of all trades for her kids who are the loves of her life. Yoga and chocolate keep her sane. Hallmark movies require cuddling up with tissues because she can be emotional. She adds a sprinkle of her own real-life adventures in each story she spins because a little truth never hurt anyone. She wouldn’t give up one thing in her crazy, chaotic, ever-amusing life, except, she might do magic tricks for the bungalow on the beach she’s had her eye on (GOALS).

Writing for Rhonda is like falling in love and finding a new best friend over and over again. Her characters will find a place inside your heart too.

She’d always like to connect with her readers: www.rhondaleecarver.com.

Connect with Rhonda Lee Carver
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UPDATE: The winners are Mina Gerhart and Christy Smid!
*~*~*

I’m being lazy! I pieced together this patchwork of covers last week for a contest, and I’m using it again because I’m super busy and don’t have time to be original! Do you care?! LOL!

Contest

For a chance to win your choice of one of the books below,
tell me if you have any furbabies/pets, what kind, and their names—and I’d love for you to say what your pets do for you.

Click on any cover to learn more about the story!

Excerpt from Ride a Texas Cowboy…

The house Katelyn Carter had bought sight unseen was kind of like her—weathered by storms and in need of a lot of TLC.

After a quick glance around the empty road, she set her truck into park and stared down the long graveled drive. She let her eyes blur and tried to imagine how the old house must have looked once upon a time before the harsh South Texas sun had baked its exterior. She wasn’t encouraged. Even seen from behind her dirty windshield, she could tell the one-story ranch needed a lot of work, and at the very least, a fresh coat of paint.

A lone tear streaked down her face, surprising her, and she sniffed. One last cry—she deserved that much. Then no more feeling sorry for herself. She had too much to do and a whole new life stretching in front of her.

A loud honk sounded, and Katelyn swung her gaze to her rearview mirror to find that a dusty, older model pick-up truck had pulled up behind her. She swiped away the tears with the back of her hand, and then stuck her arm out the window to wave the driver past.

Instead, the driver-side door opened, and a tall Texan in faded jeans and a cream-colored cowboy hat stepped onto the pavement.

Katelyn cursed under her breath and quickly tilted down the mirror to see whether her mascara had smeared. She didn’t really care what a stranger thought—that was the old Katelyn. Still, some habits died hard.

When boot steps stopped beside her, she glanced up…and found herself trapped by a moss-green gaze that raised the temperature within her cab a notch. The rest of him was just as captivating. Dark brown hair peeked from beneath his hat. His jaw was angular, his chin chiseled. Shallow crows’ feet surrounded those amazing eyes and crinkled when he frowned—as he was doing now. But they were wrinkles caused by the sun, not the weathering of a few years, like hers.

Damn! Here stood the first man she’d met since her separation who made her think of all the steamy possibilities, and he was too young.

She didn’t realize she’d cursed out loud until his soft chuckle washed over her like a silky caress. Her cheeks flamed instantly.

“Women don’t generally cuss me ’til after they know me better,” he said, his baritone voice thick as molasses.