I’ve always loved cowboys. In fact, Roy Rogers was my first crush…at age five. Although I’m known more for writing contemporary romantic suspense, I simply had to give in to the temptation of writing an erotic historical western romance series called Loving the Lawman. MASTERING THE MARSHAL is the third and latest book in the series. I’m currently intrigued by the lean-hipped, drop-dead sexy U.S. Deputy Marshal Raylan Givens and his take-no-prisoners attitude in the TNT cable series Justified. He’s beyond hot.
So tell me who you’re crushing on. Two lucky winners will receive an electronic copy of SEDUCING THE SHERIFF, book 1 of Loving the Lawman series.
Is she a dead ringer…or a dead woman walking?
When U.S. Deputy Marshal Sam Dunaway arrives in Kenton Valley, Texas, for a murder trial, the last thing he expects is to run into his late wife Celine. The one who supposedly died in a boarding house fire shortly after she ran off with his life savings.
Despite her Plain Jane disguise, Sam isn’t fooled. As soon as his business with the trial is finished, the woman who broke his heart will pay.
Three years ago, Celine had good reason to use Sam’s money to go into hiding—and it’s a secret she must still keep, even if it means certain arrest and imprisonment. Because coming clean risks crushing rejection.
In spite of themselves, the embers of love roar in to a passionate inferno, leaving Sam with a hell of a choice. To stick to his principles…or follow his heart.
Warning: This story contains a woman with a sewing basket full of secrets, and a highly pissed-off U.S. Marshal wants her dead or alive—though alive is better. Just sayin’.
EXCERPT:
Kenton Valley, Texas Hill Country, April 1890
U.S. Deputy Marshal Sam Dunaway opened the door to the sheriff’s office and nodded. “Sheriff Cordero Tate?”
The sheriff nodded. “Cord’ll do.” The sheriff was tall and broad shouldered and showed no signs of his prior tragedy. He rose and offered his hand.
“Marshal Dunaway,” Sam nodded and took the lawman’s hand. “I’d like to see the prisoner and how he’s housed.”
Tate stood and opened the door leading off the main room. It led to the cellblock, containing two cells. Only one was occupied. Barnes was stretched out, apparently asleep on the bunk—as if in a few days he wouldn’t be sleeping forever.
Sam turned and walked back to the outer office. “Appears you have a sturdy enough jail. Any chance the rest of his gang might try and break him out?”
“I’ve got two trustworthy deputies. Besides”—the sheriff shook his head—“the gang’s leader was killed last summer. The rest of ’em splintered after that. ’Course, you never know. Catching Barnes here was more of an accident than anything. He couldn’t resist visiting his sick mama. Thought he might show up, so we took turns keeping an eye on the Barnes homestead.”
“Smart thinking. If I’m not mistaken, you’re the one who killed their leader, Tyler?” Not to mention the sheriff’s new wife was half-sister to the ringleader. Wonder that didn’t complicate matters.
“That’s right.” Tate sat, gesturing for Sam to pull up a chair.
A man of few words. Good. Removing his Stetson, Sam hooked the toe of his boot around a chair leg, dragged it over and straddled it. Now they could get down to the business of the trial. “I need a place to hold the trial. Any suggestions?”
“Haven’t had much call for trials till now. There’s the school or the church or the saloon.”
“Good. I’ll check ’em out. Prefer a neutral ground over the saloon. Any chance we’ll find twelve sober men come trial time?”
Tate shrugged. “If you’d rather move the trial to a bigger town, it won’t hurt my feelings none.”
Sam shook his head. “I’m here to see he gets one. Don’t care if it’s fair or not. That’s up to the judge, not me.” He stood and settled the Stetson on his head. “I’ll head over to the church, then to the school. Let you know which one I decide.”
The sheriff nodded. “Any word on when the judge will arrive?”
“Few days. He’s presiding over a trial in Llano.” He headed to the door, then stopped. “The livery?”
“Livery stables are behind the boarding house at the north end of town. Miz Foley oughta be able to fix you up while you’re here.” Tate jerked his head in the direction of the cells. “She provides meals for the prisoner, and she’s a damn fine cook.”
Sam touched the brim of his hat, nodding his appreciation.
Outside, he untied and mounted his horse, then headed north, passing the general store and dry goods. He glimpsed the tall, slender figure of a woman standing in the window of the dry goods store, a sudden apparition that had him twisting around in his saddle to get a better look. But his horse had other ideas and kept heading north.
Damn. She looked familiar, so familiar his heart sped up and his mouth went dry as sand. Just the memory of their loving stiffened his prick. But it couldn’t be Celine. His wife had burned to death in a boardinghouse fire almost three years ago.
When the news of her death had finally reached him, he’d still been too angry to grieve. She never would’ve died if she’d stayed home where she belonged instead of running off with his life savings. Served the bitch right—that was what he’d thought at the time.
But now… If this woman really was Celine and not someone who was her spitting image, what he wouldn’t give to bed his wife one last time before he locked up her low-down, thieving ass.
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People say that writing is a solitary occupation and to a great extent it is. I mean, no one can do the writing for you, nor would you want them to. But it also takes a lot of research, especially for me. I am known as Miss Picky because I go to great lengths to get things right.
When I was writing Finding Julia, there were some specific scenes in the story that I needed details on. For example, there’s a cabin in the woods in Massachusetts. I had to know if there was still open land outside Boston, where it was, how much open space, all that good stuff. I managed to find a real estate agent who was willing to take time out of her busy day to answer my questions, although I think she was secretly hoping I was actually looking for property to buy.
There is also a scene at a restaurant called Harry’s House. Now this is of course a fictional place but it’s based on a real restaurant, Little Harry’s, a French colonial structure in Detroit with a lot of ambience. I lived in that city for twenty-five years and Little Harry’s was a place where Detroit’s gentrified elite as well as their Mafia elite frequently dined. Media were strictly prohibited so it was a place where people could be assured of privacy, especially with the restaurant divided into small rooms.
Unfortunately it no longer exists. Singer Anita Baker bought it and planned to turn it into a recording studio. She ran into so much resistance she built an IHop instead. Kind of like when my late husband and I went to Texarkana to see some of the historic landmarks of his ancestors and at one spot found a Taco Bell.
Oh, well.
FINDING JULIA
Can a moment of passion outlast years of secrets and misery?
Sometimes life is not fair. For Julia Patterson meeting Luke Buchanan opened the door to a new life and brought her to life as a woman. In his arms she learns for the first time how real passion and emotion can enrich your life. He claims her body with the pleasure of erotic sex and his heart with unrestricted love. But Fate was laughing at Julia, just as she is about to step over the threshold into a wonderful new life. When her almost-ex-husband Charles is diagnosed with a fatal heart condition her divorce is put on hold along with the rest of her life. Turning her back on Luke and the intense passion and emotion they shared is the most difficult thing she’s ever done. But Julia has a secret, one that Charles has discovered and uses like a club. Thirteen years later when Luke walks back into her life the passion and emotion are just as explosive as ever. Will they finally have their chance at happiness or will her secret destroy it forever?
“Our executive vice president is tied up in a meeting right now,” Howard whispered as the executive staff filed in. “He’s the one who says yea or nay. He’ll join us as soon as he can.”
Great. Would he expect her to do it all over again for him?
She sighed and began her presentation again.
It was well into the afternoon and she was pulling out copies of the proposed budget to distribute when the door to the boardroom opened quietly, and Julia’s stomach dropped to the floor. She felt as if an electric surge slammed into her, plucking at every one of her nerve endings.
The man who silently took a seat at the end of the table wasn’t necessarily handsome, but he was one hundred percent male. Liquid brown eyes were framed by the thickest lashes she had ever seen on a man. She noticed the strong jaw and the lines of character etched on an incredibly masculine face. Straight brown hair, a hint of silver reflecting in the lights, was worn just a little long, giving him a slightly rakehell look.
The classic dark business suit barely concealed the power he radiated. More than that, he exuded an aura of self, of authority, of comfort in his own skin few men were able to attain. She could think of only three words to describe him. Dark. Edgy. Dangerous. In her entire thirty years, no man had ever affected her the way this man did. Certainly not Charles. She clamped down on her reaction, forbidding herself to let her thoughts wander into forbidden territory. As she’d learned, her judgment where men were concerned left a great deal to be desired.
“Let me interrupt a moment.” Manning jumped to his feet. “Julia, meet Lucas Buchanan, our executive vice president. He’s been in another meeting until now.”
“I’m pleased you could join us, Mr. Buchanan.” Julia pasted on her professional smile and hoped her voice sounded firmer to the others than it did to her.
Lucas Buchanan nodded at her. “Luke, please. Sorry to be late. Please don’t let me interrupt.”
She struggled to pick up the threads of what she’d been saying, her brain suddenly addled, and her hands unsteady. It took every ounce of personal discipline to keep focused on her presentation.
Excerpt #2
“Let’s hope,” he muttered. “All right. Be sure to let me know how things are. I’ll be worried about you. Here. Give me your cell phone.”
She pulled it out of her purse and handed it to him. He punched some numbers and gave it back to her.
“There. My private number’s in there. I’m speed dial number one. I’ll have my phone on all the time. Call me whenever.”
“Oh, Luke.” Her voice broke and she dug deep to get control of herself. “Why couldn’t we have met fifteen years ago?”
“I don’t think we would have been ready for each other then.” He kissed her one last time, then enfolded her in his arms. “Just remember. No matter what happens in your life, you will always be mine.”
“Yes, I will.” She was fighting tears and clinging to him as if she’d never let him go before taking a step back. “Goodbye, Luke.” And then she couldn’t help herself. “I love you.” She yanked up the handle of her suitcase and nearly ran into the terminal, dragging the luggage behind her.
Julia went through check-in and security as if in a fog. She bought herself another cup of tea and sat in the waiting area, sipping at the hot liquid, hoping it would ease the sudden chill invading her. The man sitting next to her was kind enough to nudge her when the call for boarding came. She entered the plane and took her seat like a robot, buckled in and leaned her head back.
Images flashed through her mind: she and Luke dancing, bodies moving slowly to the music, their first night together, the wonder of exploring each other’s bodies, the night in the cabin, warmed by the flames of the fire, their kiss at the airport, more poignant than sensual.
What a mess. The damn divorce papers still unsigned and now she had no idea when or how they would be. Luke had said he would wait but for how long? And how would the twins handle this? Their relationship with their father left a lot to be desired yet surely this would affect them emotionally. Her life was slowly being flushed down the toilet and she was left with a very inadequate plunger. Tears begin to trickle from the corners of her eyes, and her stomach knotted.
“Excuse me.” The flight attendant was leaning towards her, over the empty seat next to her. “Forgive me for asking but is something wrong?”
“No.” Julia sniffled, then tried on a smile. “Just fighting a cold is all.”
“Can I get you anything?” The attendant was obviously concerned.
“Some hot tea would be nice, if you could. And thank you.” Maybe she could drown herself in an ocean of the stuff.
“Tea it is. Coming right up.”
She realized as she sipped the hot liquid, she would now always associate it with Luke. She hoped she would still be able to drink it without crying. The tea seemed to settle her still-jumbled stomach enough so she could relax a little, but it did nothing to rid her of the feeling of despair creeping over her.
About Desiree Holt
Known the world over as the oldest living author of erotic romance, and referred to by USA Today as the Nora Roberts of erotic romance, Desiree Holt is three times a finalist for an EPIC E-Book Award (and a winner in 2014), a nominee for a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award, winner of the first 5 Heart Sweetheart of the Year Award at The Romance Studio as well as twice a CAPA Award winner for best BDSM book of the year, and winner of the Holt Medallion for Excellence in Romance Literature. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today, The (London) Daily Mail, The New Delhi Times and numerous other national and international publications.
“Desiree Holt is the most amazing erotica author of our time and each story is more fulfilling then the last.” (Romance Junkies)
“Desiree Holt is like the Nora Roberts of erotic romance.” USA Today Happy Ever After Blog
I just finished edits on the first book of a three-book series. I’m on top of the world about it. Strange thing is, the story was supposed to be a short story about a blind date. No more than four or five pages in an anthology. But that’s not what the characters wanted.
As I started writing the story, ideas popped into my head about each character’s past. Who was the main character, Heath Firestone? What happened in his life to keep him single and uninterested in dating at thirty-five years old? Who really is this mysterious man, Anton Barrett, and why did Heath’s co-worker Violet set him up with three disasters before introducing Anton?
As the writing continued, I felt like Heath was in my head directing the story, and it quickly passed the usual word count for a short story. Thus, the first book of the Golden Scepter series was born. Heath ended up the target of a fifty year conspiracy to wipe out his family. Gun fights, treasure hunt, the Orient Express, and a hidden chamber in the catacombs of Salzburg flew from my fingers at Heath’s direction onto the virtual page.
Then a new villain, Justin Pennington, pushed the story further into book two, another full novel. I’ve just finished that one and am going back to fill in anything Justin and Heath missed. But both are still there, making sure I don’t change the essence of their tale.
And I can already hear the characters clamoring to be heard for book three. It’s amazing to me how these stories keep coming, all from a quick idea about a blind date. Some of my editors have commented about putting Heath through all his trials and tribulations in the first book, but the reality for me is Heath told me his story and wanted me to write it. I can hardly wait to see what the real outcome of the full story is. While the idea is already complete in my mind, Heath has been throwing me surprises and loops as I put the words onto my screen.
Bring it on, Heath. Tell me another story.
****
Brent Archer started writing in 2011 at the urging of his cousins. He’s published in several anthologies, and will celebrate his first cover with his own name on it on October 3rd with the release of his story Halfway Out of the Dark with MuseItHot. You’ll be able to read about Heath’s story starting in Spring 2015 with the release of The Bastard’s Key as the first book of the Golden Scepter series. Visit Brent at his website www.brentarcher.net or follow him on Twitter @brentarcherwrit.
In late 2012, Ashleigh Raine kinda fell off the planet. Or at least it looked that way. For the past two years, we (we meaning Jen and Lisa, the authors who write together under the penname Ashleigh Raine), have been on an amazing, electric adventure—one we’ll soon be able to share with all of you. See, we’ve added new titles to our resumes. Not only are we writers, but we’re also the creators and producers of the upcoming romantic paranormal web series, Necrolectric.
Necrolectric tells the story of a woman named Eve who is struggling with her mysterious need to constantly die and come back to life. She begins to unravel the truth of who she really is when she teams up with a young woman who relives others’ deaths (Z), a young man who talks to ghosts (Jax), a cursed immortal (Alaric), and his electrically charged brother (Cas) to solve a series of supernatural murders.
For those of you who’ve read our Talisman Bay series, Necrolectric is actually a spin-off from this world. In summer 2012, we were working on the long-overdue third book in the series, Eternal Talisman, and were introducing two new characters, immortal brothers Alaric and Cas, who we became so enamored with we were afraid they’d take over the Talisman Bay series. So we decided to give them a book series of their own, which we promptly plotted out. Little did we know at that time that we were going to be approached to create and write a web series, and that our planned book series was going to become a web series too.
We’ll be announcing some exciting news soon, as well as the online launch date of the first season. We hope those of you who love paranormal romance, and shows like Vampire Diaries, Lost Girl, Teen Wolf, Supernatural, Sleepy Hollow and other sexy paranormal offerings, will check out Necrolectric. And watch for the book version, Electric Rush, to come out in early 2015. In the meantime, how about a tantalizing taste of what’s to come?
Follow us on social media so you don’t miss out on the upcoming announcements about the show. Spark up!
It’s the question we all get. For some authors, the characters speak to them. Unfortunately, I don’t have voices in my head. It’s just me up there talking to myself. 🙂
Inspiration comes from anything that captures your interest or tweaks your imagination in some small way. And generally, once the idea gets in there, it refuses to leave. Hmm. Maybe it’s an infestation?
Do you listen to music? Look a photos or paintings? Watch videos? Listen to the news? People watching is an awesome activity. Maybe the young couple arguing in the park grabs your attention and you start to wonder what they’re fighting about. Or you see a young woman sitting all alone at the bus stop looking incredibly sad. Did she lose her job, lose a friend? It could come from a story you read—something in the same theme, but you envision a very different plot and outcome. It could be a scrumptious meal you just ate and you begin to envision the sexy cook back in the kitchen wondering if he’ll ever meet the woman of his dreams. What about the conversation you overheard between two people in front of you at Starbucks. At the time you stifled a giggle about the topic of discussion, but it’s stuck on repeat in your head until the idea for a story comes together. Perhaps it’s a real life event that affected you deeply and you need to write about it to purge yourself of your emotions.
I took a fantastic course a few years ago. We had to search for five articles from newspapers. The stories had to be odd. They could be strange odd or funny odd. Each week we chose one of the stories and then wrote a scene inspired by the chosen article. The scenes varied in length and they varied in genre. We brought our work back to the class, told them about the original article and what about it in particular inspired the story. Sometimes it was the theme, or simply a sentence or an emotion it invoked. Sometimes, it was difficult to make the connection between the article and the story the author created, but something in how they interpreted that story sparked an idea for them.
For me, it’s usually something I’ve see or read. A great cover will spark an idea. I let the image sink into my mind and from there the story unfolds. I look at submission calls. The publisher or editor provides the nugget for inspiration and then I run away and create a story, taking it in whichever direction I choose. I don’t even necessarily submit that story to that particular requestor. They were simply the conduit for the idea. Somebody or something somewhere, somehow plants the seed. Then we make it grow.
In my debut novella, Worth the Risk, a submission call prodded me to write a story, but the inspiration came from my real life. In Friend with Benefits, the idea was sparked by something a friend said, but my backyard was the inspiration for the scenery. In my upcoming release, Sliding into Home, the idea was sparked by a trip to Las Vegas and a bride I saw in one of the casinos.
The possibilities are endless. Look around. Watch. Listen. Touch. Read. Use every sense, open your eyes, clean out your ears, but be discrete when you’re eavesdropping LOL! Inspiration is everywhere.
I get my ideas mostly from things I see or read about. Where do you get your ideas from?
Sliding into Home, A New League Series (Book 1) By Anne Lange Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance Release Date: October 17, 2014, Available for Pre-Order Now Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing Word Count: 37,827 words Heat Level: Hot
Can an injured ex ball player convince the woman he wakes up married to in Las Vegas to take a second chance on him?
After spending the last four months drowning his sorrows over the end of his baseball career, Jack Bishop finds himself winging through the blue skies to Las Vegas, not so ready to spend the weekend with some woman his best friend set him up with. He expects a paid escort. What he gets is the woman he walked away from ten years ago to pursue his passion, and she’s not very happy to see him.
Devyn Tate believes she’s quite capable of finding somebody to take her out to dinner. She’s no longer looking for a lifelong promise. She has a commitment only to her battery-operated toy to fulfill that particular need. Yet her friends have managed to talk her into spending the weekend in Las Vegas, on a blind date of all things. They promise the guy is trustworthy. They insist that she should have fun. Unfortunately, fun is not what she envisions when she discovers Jack Bishop lying on the floor of her suite in nothing but his underwear that’s on backward, and she has a wedding ring on her finger.
Available for Pre-Order September 5th (from Totally Bound) Early Download: September 19th (from Totally Bound) General Release: October 17th
Shoes are her addiction, but books are her passion. Anne Lange grew up with a love for reading. If you take a close look, she’s got either a book, her Kindle or her Kobo—maybe all three—tucked into her bag or a pocket when she leaves the house. You know, just in case there’s time to sneak in a chapter or ten. Anne reads many genres of romance, but prefers to write sexy stories, often with a dash of humor, and usually with a side of those sinful pleasures your mom never told you about.
Oh, and always a happily ever after.
While embarking on this wild journey of becoming a romance author, Anne juggles a full time job and a family. Not always successfully. Who needs a clean house every day? And what’s wrong with cereal for dinner? She lives in Ontario, Canada with her wonderfully supportive husband, three awesome kids who are growing up way too fast, and Rocky the bearded dragon.
Today is my birthday. No, don’t start singing that song–I’m sure I’ll hear it often enough at work when the kids come to lunch. If I could, I’d simply forget my birthday all together, but singing to mz *lizzie makes the kids happy. And I can’t resist that.
Much like Birdie, the heroine in Birds Do It! can’t resist helping a desperate single father facing what he considers to be a dangerous hyacinth macaw and a birthday celebration for his nine year old daughter. First she calms the bird, then offers to decorate the birthday cake.
A Birthday excerpt for you.
Smoothing the surface with a deft flick of her wrist, she spoke. “I need to know how your daughter spells her name.”
“The French way.”
“And that is?” Birdie held up a hand. “Wait a sec.” She reached for a second decorating bag filled with bright blue icing. After testing the flow from the tip over a bowl, she paused with the tip close to the cake. “Okay, shoot.”
“R.” Garr swallowed heavily. This woman, a stranger, came into his house, magically quieted a maniacal bird, and created the most beautiful cake for his daughter. Her hand moved smoothly, putting a final, flowery flourish to the large letter.
“A.” She arched her shoulders forward as if easing tight muscles. Garr’s fingers twitched, and he longed to soothe, to comfort, to relax her tension. That longing curled into heated tension low in his belly.
“C.” Pausing, Birdie held the top of the decorating bag in one hand, wrapped the fingers of her other hand around it, and gently forced the icing toward the tip. Then, she wrapped her fingers more tightly around the bag and adjusted her grip slightly. Garr bit back a low groan.
“H.” How the letter got past the lump in his throat was a miracle. Unbidden, unwanted, the vision of her fingers wrapped around him… stroking… caressing… squeezing…
His body responded painfully.
“E.” A deep intake of breath filled him with her scent; spice and warm vanilla. As casually as he could, he moved to the other side of the island to hide his physical reaction. Perhaps the distance would help.
“Two L’s.” How long had it really been since he’d been attracted to a woman, drawn to someone so intimately? The tip of her pink tongue peeked between her lips as she concentrated, moving slowly along her full lower lip as if it traced the letters as well.
“E.” By God, if she didn’t stop caressing that damn bag…
“There, finished.” Birdie looked up at him. A triumphant smile made her face bright and beautiful. She sucked an icing covered finger into her mouth. “What do you think?”
I think I want to know you better. Much better.
Birds Do It!
A search for truth, switched babies, and a threat from the past all conspire to destroy the love Birdie found with Garr and his daughter, Rachelle.
Macaws as lovebirds?
An avian expert, Birdie Simons is called to help control a cantankerous hyacinth macaw during a young girl’s birthday party. Inexorably drawn to each other, she and single father Garr Logan share an afternoon of joy and bittersweet memories, for Garr’s wife died the same day as Birdie’s newborn child.
Something about Rachelle makes Birdie wonder if the golden-haired girl is her daughter, switched at birth. Then her child’s father returns, dogging her search for understanding and throwing her deeper into fear and confusion.
Ready to move on after his wife’s death, Garr wants the intriguing woman, but Birdie keeps the search, threats and hidden relationships to herself, driving a wedge between them.
Will discovering the truth from nine years ago bring them closer, or forever tear them apart?
*lizzie always made up games and stories to keep her company. So, a cunning witch lived in Grampa’s weather research station and was only held at bay by waving a certain weed. An ancient road grader morphed into a boat carrying wild adventurers to islands filled with fierce lions and dangerous cannibals, which really looked a lot like sheep. Now, filled with fantasy, love, and romance with a sparkling twist, the stories of her imagination swirl their way into the mundane world. When *lizzie must return to a more routine life, she’s *the Lunch Lady* at a private school. Author and lunch lady~~what a combination!
Note: Thought I’d misplaced Jennha’s blog, but found it. The contest I posted earlier this AM, just below this blog, is still a go! Be sure to enter! ~DD
* * * * *
Fall hit hard this week. Which I both love and hate. Love because I get to pull out the hoodies! Hate because it means winter is coming—not my favorite time of year. 🙂
But there are other great things about fall (one of my favorite seasons). Perfect days of mild weather, clear skies, and fresh air. The colors of the trees as they turn from green to gold, orange and red.
Halloween. So much fun dressing up and taking my kiddo trick or treating. Sports! Football. Hockey.
And school. As much as I love spending the summer with my kiddo, it’s nice to have some free time when she goes back to school. And she loves it as well.
As summer fades to fall and the temperatures drop, schedules pick up, and we prepare for winter I like to pull out some books that heat things up! What do you do when the temperatures turn chilly? What is your favorite season?
Leave a comment and your email and I’ll pick one winner to win an ebook of Finding Her Dream. The giveaway ends September 26th. I’ll post the winner’s name in the comments.
Title: Finding Her Dream (Midwest Kisses #2)
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Western Romance
Published: March 27, 2014
It wasn’t until she watched her best friend find the man of her dreams that RayAnne Hill realizes there’s a part of her missing. She knows the empty space can only be filled by finding her own true love, complete with kids and the white picket fence. Fear of letting someone in stops her cold, and it’s much bigger than just finding Mr. Right.
James Shaw moved away from Kentucky and the family business to chase his own goals, settling in the small town of Kimmswick, Missouri. His business is succeeding, now he’s ready to complete his life with a wife and kids. One night, one look and he’s found her. RayAnne is everything he’s been searching for.
As hard as James has fallen for RayAnne, can he be enough to help her overcome her worst nightmare? Or will he decide he can’t wait forever, and walk away to find happiness?
Born and raised in Texas, Jennah is a transplant to Missouri long enough ago she should probably consider that her hometown. But she will forever be a Texan. She loves to write any story that will make a reader smile, laugh, and maybe even cry (although you won’t ever hear her admit that she cries). Whether the next story she writes is contemporary, urban fantasy, LGBT, or whatever other crazy idea she comes up with, there will always be love and romance in the midst of trials and turmoil.
What? She whipped around to face him. “Why?” she squeaked.
“For that night. For being late. For letting you down. All of it. I hated not getting to spend some time with you.” James clasped his hands in front of him. Her gaze lingered a little below his belt. He cleared his throat and she jerked her head up. At seeing his smirk Ray’s cheeks warmed. She’d been caught.
“I should be apologizing to you, James. It was wrong of me to ignore you. I was being selfish, too worried about myself and how much I wanted to have dinner with you. Everything ended up okay, right? I mean I know it’s been a while, but…” she trailed off. Rambling would get her nowhere.
James grinned. The cooling fire inside ignited once again. “Yeah, sugar. Everything’s good. Shadow was perfect and her foal, Levee, is a beauty.”
“Levee? That’s an odd name for a horse isn’t it?”
“Maybe. I don’t care. She’s named after the Levee Apple Pie at the Owl.”
“Why would you name your horse after an apple pie?” Ray didn’t know much about horses, but she figured an odd name like that had to have a story.
“It’s not the apple pie. Once upon a time I met this girl and I screwed up. So this was my way of reminding myself what can happen if I don’t pay attention.”
I just finished edits on the first book of a three-book series. I’m on top of the world about it. Strange thing is, the story was supposed to be a short story about a blind date. No more than four or five pages in an anthology. But that’s not what the characters wanted.
A Birthday excerpt for you.
