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Augustina Van Hoven: A New Beginning
Sunday, June 3rd, 2018

I love time travel. It’s one of my favorite story concepts. The idea of going back in time and seeing some part of history is fascinating to me.  Imagine hearing Lincoln give the Gettysburg address or watching the Wright Brothers fly the first airplane.  There are so many events in the past that changed the course of history and so many interesting people.  But the past is also filled with a lot of horrors and difficulties. Popping in for a short visit would be one thing, but having to survive in the past while trying to get home is quite another.

This is the concept I explored in my first book in the Love through Time series, A Second Chance.  Journalist Jessica Winters finds herself in a small mining town in 1876 and has to survive while trying to find a way home.  She meets Captain Harlan Jefferson Baylor, a Civil War confederate cavalry officer and they fall in love, but she’s forced to return to her own time to save their unborn child.  In the second book of the series, A New Beginning, I explored the opposite concept, going forward in time.

When someone from the future ends up in the past, they at least have some knowledge or point of reference to work with.  Even if you slept through most of you history classes in school, you’d still have some sort of an idea what ancient Rome was like, or the Middle Ages, or the American wild west.  But if you traveled over 150 years into the future, especially if you were born at the time of the Civil War, you’d have no point of reference point at all.  How would you react to seeing your first car, or a helicopter, or an airplane?  How would you survive in the world of modern technology with no concept of a cell phone, television, a computer, or a radio? All the things we use every day and take for granted would appear as terrifying magic to someone from the distant past.  The other part of the problem is all the social changes.  Our language has evolved over the last 150 years, what is acceptable behavior and what is not has changed, not to mention the difference in clothing and hairstyles.

The future is a scary place, and personally I’d rather take the slow road to get there.

If you could time travel, where would you want to go?

A New Beginning

How do you pack for a trip through time?

Mai Ling’s legs tremble as she steps out into the unknown. But step she must. One group of miners in a rough nineteenth century town is out for blood, including hers. Carrying her few possessions and her family’s precious secret, Mai Ling leaves her mother and the world she knows to venture into a new century. Her escort is Captain Harlan Jefferson Baylor, who is joining his wife and his unborn child in the 21st century. They step through a crack in time, not knowing what they will find. Will Harley be able to reunite with Jessica, even though he has no idea of how to drive a car or use a telephone? Will Mai Ling survive in this strange time and find the love that has eluded her so far?

The answers are in A NEW BEGINNING, book two in the Love through Time series.  Coming June 28th.

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Augustina Van Hoven’s Social Media Links

Website: https://augustinavanhoven.com
Twitter: @augustinavhoven
FaceBook:  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Augustina-Van-Hoven-Author/336028986575129
Pinterest: Augustina Van Hoven, Author

Lexi Post: On Highland Time Released today!
Monday, May 28th, 2018

Thank you, Delilah for having me! I brought along a special Scottish prize, too!

So what do you get when you combine a secret agency dedicated to changing history back to the way it was, and an agent who has the ability to calm people along with the power to travel through time, and a medieval Highland laird?

On Highland Time, of course!

Authors get their inspiration from many places and for me it has always started with classic literature. In this case, it was Sir Walter Scott’s narrative poem, The Lady of the Lake. Though the poem takes place later than my story, it gave me the idea to have someone infiltrate a clan in disguise, since the King in Scott’s poem does just that only to fall for the lady.

After that a number of “what ifs” occurred such as what if the person disguised was a lady who falls for the laird, and what if she was a time traveler, and what if she was there to change history back to the way it was when the laird had died, and…you get the picture. It’s just the way my mind works.

Of course, since I write romance, there had to be a relationship and a happily ever after, but it wasn’t easy with this story. There were a lot of forces at play against that happening. I do enjoy time travel stories, but I like my heroines to have control. Diana Montgomery can control her time travel, but she still has to make a brutal decision — save mankind’s future or save the man she loves. Not quite the decision the Lady of the Lake had to make, but close.

On Highland Time

For fans of sexy Scottish Highlanders who know how to treat a woman like a lady.

When someone changes history, affecting the future, Diana Montgomery, the most experienced agent of Time Weavers, Inc., travels back to 1306 Scotland to change it back. Her mission, to find the culprit and ensure a minor clan chief dies in battle as he originally had.

Diana is well-prepared to infiltrate the small MacPherson clan. What she’s not prepared for is Torr MacPherson, the ruggedly handsome warrior with a kind heart and a steadfast loyalty—the Laird she’s supposed to ensure dies.

On Highland Time Buy Links:
Amazon|Barnes & Noble| iBooks| Kobo

Excerpt:

Torr appeared to grow larger before her eyes. He straightened to his full height and looked down at her, his eyes hard. “I was protecting my king and what is mine.”

She swallowed, his stare clearly indicating he considered her his. She broke eye contact and looked past him to find the two men, Beth, Braigh, and Mairi watching them. Once again, she was the center of attention. Not the right place for a TWI agent.

Medieval. She needed to think like a medieval woman. What would Mairi do in this case? Actually, the poor woman might very well faint.

Though it rubbed her all ways but the right way, she kept her gaze lowered. “I’m sorry that helping Ian angered you. I will refrain from doing so again.”

She heard Torr sigh. “That is not what upset me.”

Daring to look at him, she hoped her gaze wasn’t too direct. “Then why were you angry?”

He folded his arms across his chest, usually a common defensive gesture, but one she had begun to believe was his thinking stance. “I did not like seeing ye in the arms of another.”

That was blunt and to the point. “But aren’t you in the arms of another woman every few nights?”

He looked away and dropped his arms before quickly changing the subject. “I believe food awaits us.”

“So it does.” She let her irritation spill into her tone of voice. His double standard grated on her nerves, but that was according to her own time. She had to stop letting him get to her. Crouching down, she picked up her shoes and walked barefoot to the blanket, completely ignoring the hulk strolling beside her.

When she sat on the blanket, Douglas caught her eye and shook his head.

Oh, go have dinner with Medusa! She took a deep breath to regain some balance.

Torr lowered his large body next to her. Holding out his hand, he offered her a chunk of bread and a square of cheese. Reluctantly, she accepted it. Crossing her legs beneath her, she took a bite. The sharp cheese woke her taste buds and refocused her thoughts.

He didn’t say a word as he ate his mutton and bread.

She appreciated the silence and the food, casting furtive glances at him. The man would definitely be considered “eye candy” in her age. Broad shoulders with large muscles in his arms, developed pectorals, and abs women sighed over. While she had only seen a glimpse of his thighs, she could tell by the bulge of his calves that they, too, would be solid strength. He was no cover model with his crooked nose, red-tinged hair, and pure maleness, but he was striking in his own way. Even more than his giant build, there was a purpose to him that forewarned he was a force to be reckoned with. She just couldn’t see him dying in battle.

“Here.” Torr held out a wooden cup.

She tentatively took a sip to find it was water. It enhanced the aftertaste of the cheese, one of the few food items she found palatable. She handed the cup back. “Thank you.”

His large hand covered hers but didn’t let go. She looked up at him. His deep blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “Ye have no need to fear me, lass.”

Maybe not physically, but definitely emotionally. She liked this big, kind-hearted man, far too much. His feelings for her, though only interest and lust, were not good. Better to keep him at arm’s length. She grinned. “I know.”

His brow rose and arrogance revealed itself once again. “Ye do? Well then, ye also know my bed is waiting for you.”

She swallowed the thrill of excitement that ran through her chest and instead focused on her modern irritation over his lifestyle. Though she tempered it, she wasn’t above a little sarcasm. “Which night?”

He scowled, his face taking on harsh lines.

Holy Hamlet, he looked mean when he did that.

“Lass, you test my patience.”

“Laird, you test mine.” She raised her chin just a fraction.

He scowled harder. Then his face relaxed, and he chuckled. “I think ye will fit into this clan very well.”

The idea of being a welcome part of the clan scared the hell out of her. Since her parents’ death, she’d created her own clan, so to speak. She couldn’t become attached to another, especially not in 1306. She needed to put distance between herself and this laird.

About the Author

Lexi Post is a New York Times and USA Today best-selling author of romance inspired by the classics. She spent years in higher education taking and teaching courses about the classical literature she loved. From Edgar Allan Poe’s short story “The Masque of the Red Death” to Tolstoy’s War and Peace, she’s read, studied, and taught wonderful classics.

But Lexi’s first love is romance novels so she married her two first loves, romance and the classics. From hot paranormals to sizzling cowboys to hunks from out of this world, Lexi provides a sensuous experience with a “whole lotta story.”

Lexi is living her own happily ever after with her husband and her cat in Florida. She makes her own ice cream every weekend, loves bright colors, and you will never see her without a hat.

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Caroline Clemmons: Texas Lightning (F*R*E*E READ)
Monday, April 23rd, 2018

Thanks to Delilah Devlin for hosting me on her blog.

I’m excited to tell you about TEXAS LIGHTNING, the first of my Texas Time Travel Series trilogy (Try saying that fast three times ☺). Reader reports have been very enthusiastic. Except for the words “damn” and “hell” a few times, this is a sweet romance. The second and third of the trilogy are TEXAS RAINBOW, releasing April 18, and TEXAS STORM, releasing May 25.

Years ago, I discovered the time travel books of Kathleen Kane before the author switched names and subgenre. I fell in love with time travel featuring ordinary people. I also have enjoyed the time travels of other authors, such as Beth Trissel, Linda LaRoque, Diana Gabaldon, and Peggy L. Henderson.

I especially enjoy the idea of a character from the past coming forward to today. Think about it—when someone goes back in time, they know what’s going to happen in that era. On the other hand, when a person comes forward, everything is new and requires huge adjustments in learning and attitudes. What a challenge for a character—and what fun for the reader. If there’s mystery and/or suspense, even better.

This is what I wrote in OUT OF THE BLUE, when an Irish woman from 1845 plopped down in contemporary Texas to help a detective solve several murders and discover who was trying to frame and kill him. Except for this book, my new trilogy is a departure from the usual books I write, but still in a western setting.

TEXAS LIGHTNING depicts Penny Terry as she stumbles forward into a complicated scheme to steal the ranch that had been hers. While unraveling the mystery, she learns why her father was killed. In this case, there’s even a fabulous treasure. Of course, she also falls in love.

The setting is a ranch in Central Texas on the Medina River somewhere between Bandera and Medina. Bandera touts itself as “The Cowboy Capital of Texas”. My family once stayed at The Mayan Ranch, a dude ranch near there. Our daughters and I fell in love with the ranch and the area. My Hero prefers to read about riding horses and ranching rather than experiencing them first hand. Hero was a good sport but would rather have been fishing. ☺

Texas Lightning

How can two people from different eras own the same ranch?

Penelope Jane Terry knows everything about ranching in spite of being a lone woman. She is determined to send to jail the rustlers who believe they can steal what is hers… until she is caught spying on their dirty works and must ride for her life. What Penny doesn’t count on is being hurtled over a 120 years into the future.

Jake Knight believes the attractive woman who stumbled into his home one rainy evening either has amnesia or is certifiably insane. Unless, that is, she is in league with whoever is trying to drive him out of business. Someone is trying to force him to sell his ranch by staging a string of damaging incidents. Jake’s been kept so busy making repairs that he can’t run his ranch properly. Even if he were stupid enough to wish to sell, the ranch is so firmly entailed that no one can break the conditions.

Jake gradually learns Penny is who she claims, no matter that time travel is supposed to be impossible. They’re locked into a clash only one of them can win. If an outsider weren’t trying to kill Jake as well as bankrupt him, perhaps he and Penny might be able to reach an agreement. And, then they discover there is a huge treasure….

TEXAS LIGHTNING Excerpt:

Finally, the lights of home shone faintly in the distance. Nothing had ever looked so good. She couldn’t keep going much further. Damned if blisters hadn’t burned on her heels from walking so far in wet boots. She was near frozen in these wet clothes.

Wait.

How could she be so cold now when the heat earlier had nearly suffocated her? Nevermind, she just wanted to be home, safe, and in her bed. There stood the fence next to the paddock. Almost home now, keep walking.

Don’t pass out, don’t fall. One foot in front of the other. You can do this. Stumbling from fatigue, she labored up the front steps onto the long wrap-around porch and bumped into a rocker. Who’d put that there? Just like her cook to move stuff around without telling her. How she’d love to sink into it and rest. First, she had to send for the sheriff and find out if Star came home.

At the door, she paused and listened for men talking—rustlers waiting to waylay her. She heard no sound. Lights shone so brightly, her cook must have waited up for her with every lamp in the house lighted. She eased opened the door, listened again, then walked in and leaned her rifle against the stair’s banister.

“Did Star come home?” She unbuckled her gun belt and hung it on the newel post—not something she’d do under ordinary circumstances.

Tugging off her gloves, she avoided a couple of cactus spines stuck in the fingers. How had they remained there without her feeling them? No matter, she sat down on the third stair tread to remove her boots.

She should have gone around to the back door, but she couldn’t walk another step. Weariness and sore muscles overwhelmed her and she wanted nothing more than to shuck out of her wet things and lie in her nice bed—if she could summon the energy to walk upstairs. Eyes closed, she leaned back against the stairs. She heard footsteps approaching and raised one foot.

“Had me a passel of trouble. Help me get these danged boots off, would you? Then I’ll tell you all about it.” A dog’s cold nose pressed against her cheek. She jumped and pushed her hair out of her eyes. A black and white dog stared at her. “Who are you?”

“His name’s Rascal.” An unfamiliar baritone said, “He’s mine.”

She looked up.

Whoa! The man who faced her was a stranger. In spite of her wariness, her mouth dropped open in awe. Instead of her arthritic middle-aged cook, this man was young and tall and definitely fit. And handsome. Unbelievably, mesmerizingly handsome.

He might be as comely as a fairy tale prince, but the regal disapproval on his face appeared anything but friendly.

Energized by fear, she jumped to her feet and grabbed her rifle. “Who the heck are you?”

He crossed his arms and ignored the Winchester pointed at his middle. His dark hair glistened in light that seemed too bright. Dark blue eyes had tiny creases at the corners, as if he laughed a lot.

He sure wasn’t laughing now.

“I might ask you the same question. And what are you doing tracking in mud and dripping water all over my foyer?”

Your foyer? This is my house, and it’s been my house since my daddy and I built it six years ago. Don’t you think for one minute I’ll let you steal my ranch.”

The dog growled, the fur of his ruff bristling.

The man snapped his fingers. “Quiet, Rascal.”

Who was this man? He didn’t look the type but maybe he was one of the men stealing her cattle. Could he and his dog have been waiting for her? She gripped the rifle with all her strength. Why hadn’t her cook shown up to help her?

Oh, no, had they killed him?

He glared at her. “Lady, I don’t know who you are, but this is my house, get it? I grew up here. My daddy grew up here. My granddaddy grew up here.”

Penny’s knees trembled, but she fought fear to appear strong. “Don’t try and trick me. The Double T ranch was started by my granddaddy in 1836. No con man is going to steal it from the Terry family, and you can take that to the bank.”

“The Terry family hasn’t owned this since Penelope Terry died in 1896. The Knight family has owned it since then.” He threw up his hands. “Hell, why am I arguing with a crazy woman?”

“Crazy?” She was about to light into him when the first part of his statement hit her. “Hey, what do you mean, I died? I’m as alive as you, whoever you are.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I see you’re alive. I said Penelope Terry died. Are you hard of hearing as well as nuts?”

Increasing fear spiraled inside Penny, knotting her stomach. How could this man think her dead? What kind of trick was he working? Had she been conked out long enough that her cook sent men out to look for her and they decided she’d died?

Forcing herself to appear calm when she shook inside, Penny stood erect. “I’m Penelope Jane Terry and you can see I’m very much alive…”

Amazon US buy link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07B6R1K44?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660

Amazon UK buy link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Texas-Lightning-Time-Travel/dp/1986339459/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1521667698&sr=8-3&keywords=Caroline+Clemmons

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/s/ref=nb_sb_noss/138-9010344-2686736?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Caroline+Clemmons

About the Author

Through a crazy twist of fate, Caroline Clemmons was not born on a Texas ranch. To make up for this tragic error, she writes about handsome cowboys, feisty ranch women, and scheming villains from a small office her family calls her pink cave. She and her Hero live in North Central Texas cowboy country where they ride herd on their rescued cats and dogs. The books she creates there have made her an Amazon bestselling author and won numerous awards. Find her on her blog, website, Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, Google+, and Pinterest.

Click on her Amazon Author Page for a complete list of her books and follow her there.

Follow her on BookBub.

Subscribe to Caroline’s newsletter here to receive a FREE novella of HAPPY IS THE BRIDE, a humorous historical wedding disaster that ends happily—but you knew it would, didn’t you?

Susan A. Royal: Not Long Ago Interview (Contest)
Monday, August 21st, 2017

UPDATE: The winners are…Debra and Tamara!

* * * * *

Author’s Note: When Erin found out I’d been invited to do her character interview, she insisted on writing her own article. Go figure.

My name is Erin. Just out of college. Young, energetic, enthusiastic. On the threshold of adulthood. All about finding THE job that’ll make four years of working my butt off worthwhile.

You’d think being in the top ten percent of my class would help, but no luck so far. Maybe it’s my major. Research and Development Management. My brother, Aiden, tried to talk me into something else. Maybe I should have listened.  He says I’m stubborn. I prefer to call it determined.

He’s the only family I have. When our parents died, they left him to handle an impulsive, immature teenager with a chip on her shoulder. Before long before we came to the mutual agreement that he’d be better off going back to work overseas, while I stayed with the housekeeper who’d been in our family for years.

Don’t get me wrong. My brother would help in a heartbeat. All I had to do is ask. Only that wasn’t happening. It was time for me to learn to take care of myself.

That’s how I ended up at a temp agency, looking for a job to pay the bills until something better came along. After hounding a friend who works there, she finally consented to let me interview with an author writing a novel set during the Middle Ages.

Talk about a dream job. Once I convinced March to hire me, I found myself cataloguing mountains of information about medieval weapons, castles and their inhabitants. Even learning to dance and loving every minute of it.

Until all hell broke loose. In the middle of examining an artifact during a terrible thunderstorm one night, lightning zapped March and me into the middle ages. I’m talking time travel. He considered it a wonderful opportunity to observe history in action, but I had my doubts. Especially after he convinced me to masquerade as a young boy.

We found work at a nearby castle. A place to sleep and regular meals while figuring out how to get home. Only being a squire, even on a temporary basis was not my idea of fun. Even though Sir Griffin was a patient, kind man. Not to mention handsome. And, yeah, I fell for the guy. Against better judgement.

In the end, my little adventure taught me some things. Like how to stand on my own two feet. And face my fears. Best of all it helped me realize what I really wanted out of life.

If you love time travel adventure with a twist (and a love story) I’m giving away ebooks of Not Long Ago to the first three people who comment on this blog (Be sure to include your email address). You can continue Erin and Griffin’s story with From Now On, and I’m working on the third book in the series. I can promise you it will be an adventure.

Not Long Ago

Erin has met the man of her dreams, but as usual there are complications. It’s one of those long distance relationships, and Griffin is a little behind the times– somewhere around 600 years.

Erin and her employer, March, are transported to a time where chivalry and religion exist alongside brutality and superstition. Something is not quite right at the castle, and Erin and March feel sure mysterious Lady Isobeil is involved. However, Erin must cope with crop circles, ghosts, a kidnapping and death before the truth of her journey is revealed.

Forced to pose as March’s nephew, Erin finds employment as a squire for Sir Griffin.  She’s immediately attracted to him and grows to admire his courage, quiet nobility and devotion to duty.  Only she must deny her feelings.  Her world is centuries away, and she wants to go home.  But Erin can’t stop thinking about her knight in shining armor.

Mini-Excerpt:

I am a stranger in this world, even though I’ve traveled this way before.

Fate and not design brought me the first time. It hurled me into a distant future, with no idea how or why, taking me from an existence dependent upon modern technology to a place where people fear such things and those who use them. While searching for my way home from this harsh and sometimes violent world, my admiration for its inhabitants who valued honor and duty above all else grew into admiration and respect. I found myself drawn to one in particular, a man who saved me more than once. Only I never expected to fall in love with him.

Torn between my feelings and a longing for home, I returned to my time with only vague memories of my experience. My life went back to normal, but part of me sensed the loss of something more precious than anything I’d regained. Until one day, I saw him again.

This time I’ve come by choice, and it is where I’m going to stay.

Fate willing.

Links:

Not Long Ago (time travel, adventure, romance): http://tinyurl.com/85vgye3
Book trailer: http://youtu.be/vOIQVdWUigU/
Susan’s website: http://susanaroyal.wordpress.com 
All books available at MuseItUp, Amazon, B&N, Goodreads

About the Author

Born in west Texas and raised in south Texas, Susan shares a 100-year-old farmhouse in a small east Texas town with a ghost who harmonizes with her son when he plays guitar. She is a mother of three and grandmother of five unique and special children. Her family is rich with characters, both past and present. Susan’s grandmother shared stories of living on a farm in Oklahoma Territory and working as a telephone operator in the early 20th century. She learned all about growing up in the depression from her father and experienced being a teenager during WWII through her mother’s eyes.

Susan loves taking her readers through all kinds of adventures. So far, she’s written two books in her It’s About Time series, Not Long Ago and From Now On, and is working on book three. They are time travel adventures about two people who fall in love despite the fact they come from very different worlds. In My Own Shadow is a Fantasy adventure/romance. Xander’s Tangled Web is a YA fantasy with romance. Look for her books at MuseItUp/Amazon/B&N.

Want to know more? Visit susanaroyal.wordpress.com for a peek inside this writer’s mind and see what she’s up to. You never know what new world she’s going to visit next.

Pam Champagne: Days of Old (Contest)
Thursday, July 27th, 2017

“Old roads, old dogs, old folks and old ways still have a lot to offer in this sped up world we live in.”

I grew up in rural Maine so I learned some of the old ways of survival. Our food consisted of what my father trapped, shot or caught fishing. I can still smell the rabbit stew brook trout and fiddleheads. My mother canned vegetables from our garden, and we stored cabbage, carrots, potatoes and turnip in the root cellar. By today’s standards this was considered hard living.

My thoughts often wander back to the colonial days.  Women worked from dawn to dusk cooking outdoors in the summer, hauling water and toiling over chores.  Today, if we want a candle we drive to the store and buy one where we can choose from numerous scents.  There are thin ones, fat ones, small ones and giant ones.  Have you ever wondered what it was like in the 1700’s when candles had to be made from scratch? They weren’t used for decorative reasons or to set a mood in the home. It was the main source of light.

The majority of colonial people made candles from tallow (animal fat).  These tapers didn’t burn well and emitted an offensive odor.  Only the wealthy could afford beeswax, which was rolled to make sweet smelling candles.

Another type of candle was made from bayberries.  These berries have a waxy texture.  The berries were boiled down and the wax was skimmed from the top.  Many pounds of bayberries were needed to make these candles.

I researched candle making in the colonial times for my time travel story, The Enchanted Inn. My heroine from present times traveled back to 1778 where she found huge surprises and hard times!  To celebrate the re-republication of this story with Entangled Publishing, I am giving away a bayberry candle made from natural ingredients.

To enter the contest, please sign up for my newsletter at http://pamchampagne.us16.list-manage1.com/subscribe?u=deb383ea22963fda6536b61e9&id=92609443e1.

 

The Enchanted Inn

Their love is timeless…

When snow forces Gina to stop and spend the night at the Enchanted Inn, she’s less than happy to find her ex-fiancé there, too. But she can be civil for one night, especially after the innkeeper gives them a bottle of homemade wine to share. A few glasses of that wine sends Luke and Gina back to 1778, where Luke seems to think he’s someone called John—a man who knows more about life in colonial times than he should.

Gina may be able to deal with the hardships her new reality throws at her, but she doesn’t give up hope of finding a way home. And when she does find a way, she’s determined to take John with her—whether he wants to go or not.

The book will be released on August 21 by Entangled Publishing and will be ready for pre-order by August 1 for only $.99.  Find the buy link at https://entangledpublishing.com/books.html or on my website at www.pamchampagne.net.

 

Sandra Cox: Time Travel and History
Wednesday, September 21st, 2016

Thanks so much for hosting me today, Delilah.  I look forward to spending time with you and your followers.

I’d like to chat today about time travel and history.

As a reader, what part of our past fascinates you the most? If you could travel back in time where would you go and what would you want to see?

scgardensundial

The piece of history that has always held me enthrall is the Alamo.  Approximately two hundred men held the fort for thirteen days against an army of fifteen hundred. Their actions, and subsequent deaths, rallied the rest of Texas.

I really wanted to write a saga centered on the Alamo but my muse balked.  So we compromised.  My story revolves around the battle of San Jacinto and Sam Houston. And a woman who traveled back in time, captured history in her paintings, and found her lost love in the process.

Sundial

sc200300

He came through time to find her.

As Sarah Miles drives down Eighteenth Street a stranger materializes in front of her car. She throws on her brakes, braces for impact and…drives straight through him. For a brief moment, his voice echoes in her head, “Saura.” Then he’s gone. Later that day, she discovers the SUNDIAL and her incredible journey through time begins.

On sale for .99 September 19-25 at Amazon.
http://tinyurl.com/gardensundial

Excerpt:

A purple haze of gunpowder hung in the air that filled her nose and mouth with the acrid smell and taste of sulfur. Her eyes watered and burned.

A sharp burst of gunfire sounded nearby. Fifes and a drum played a tune she didn’t recognize. Cries of, “Remember the Alamo. Remember Goliad,” echoed through the air, overriding screams of agony.

Oh, my God! She clutched Monet and stumbled to her feet. The Alamo? Goliad? Screams too real to be an enactment lifted the hair on the back of her neck. Goosebumps roughened her skin.

In front of her, over a thousand men were doing their best to kill each other.

They wore clothes from another era. Some were dressed in nondescript gray denim; some in white roundabout jackets and pantaloons; some in brown jackets and pants; all carried rifles, clubs, knives and tomahawks and all were bent on slaughtering men dressed in blue uniforms and shako hats.

A cannon blast rumbled. The ground shook.

Where am I? In the back of her mind, a fear too unbelievable to acknowledge grew. Along with terror, a growing sense of urgency bubbled in her like a volcano ready to erupt.

She edged closer to the battlefield and scanned faces for the beloved features of her lover. She’d lost him once—no, twice. She couldn’t lose him again.

About the Author 

scSandra writes YA Fantasy, Romance, and Metaphysical Nonfiction. She lives in sunny North Carolina with her husband, a brood of critters and an occasional foster cat. The last animal member of the family, a kitten, came hurtling out of the woods in southern Illinois to land at her feet. He made the trek back to North Carolina and wasted no time settling into the household.

Although shopping is high on the list, her greatest pleasure is sitting on her porch, listening to the birds, sipping coffee or a latte and enjoying a good book. She’s a vegetarian and a Muay Thai enthusiast.

 

scliterary-cat

Warrior’s Conquest is here!
Tuesday, August 16th, 2016

Dear Readers and Friends,

First, thanks to everyone who purchased Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His SEAL Team! The story is still #1 on Amazon in short reads! And thanks for letting me know you want more of Hunter’s and Sara’s adventures!

Ready for a much longer sort of read? Do you love medieval stories? How about a story about a very modern girl thrust into a warrior’s camp in 1136 AD? Jacq’s story is near and dear to my and my sister’s hearts. We wrote this adventure story together. And now, we’d love to share it with you! Enjoy the excerpt! Let me know what you think!

Warrior’s Conquest

Warrior sConquest 600

A Medieval Timetravel Romance!

With proportions that would make Xena weep, Jacqueline Frazier despairs of ever finding a lover she can’t intimidate. Until the day she ignores a warning regarding use of a family heirloom, and finds herself swept off her feet by a knight in not so shining armor, back to the twelfth century. Forced to accept the protection of an overbearing, beast of a man, Rufus of Rathburn, Jacq struggles to find her place in the past while seeking a way back to the future. In the meantime, she aids Rufus’s war cause with a little 21st century ingenuity, shaking up the warlord with lessons in bomb-making, guerilla tactics, and the joys of sex.

At first unwilling, and ungrateful, Rufus begins to see merit in Jacq’s odd ways. Through Jacq’s eccentricities and willfulness, Rufus learns she is a woman to be reckoned with, as well as a lusty handful in bed. Will his admiration of her cunning, strength and uninhibited sexuality grow into a love that breaks the barriers of time? And will their love be strong enough for Jacq to plot a different future in the past?

Get your copy here!

Read an excerpt!

“Damnation!”

Rufus landed on his rear at the entrance of his tent. He saw the silvery glint of stars for a moment before realizing the flashing metal was the water ewer bouncing away. Instinct saved him a second knot on his forehead as he threw up his arm to deflect the next object lobbed at his head. He rolled to his knees and lunged upwards to face his angry adversary.

His breath caught. She was magnificent! Her hair was in disarray around her shoulders, and her chest heaved with fury. Bright blotches of color stained her cheeks, and the determined set of her chin and narrowed eyes warned him this would not be an easy conquest.

And she had prepared well. His two war chests stood stacked one on top of the other, and he saw a number of objects on the ground beside her feet—ammunition for the battle to come. The chests stood as a shield between them.

“I take it you’re upset,” he said mildly.

Her lips curled back in a feral smile as she hefted the copper water basin.

Aware of her intent, he feinted to the left.

Jacq modified her aim before the bowl left her hand.

The copper vessel spun through the air and caught Rufus directly at his midsection. “Oomph!” He rubbed his stomach. She certainly didn’t throw like a girl. “You were placed under guard in this tent for your own protection,” he began, hoping to reason her out of her present course of action. He could easily overpower her but didn’t want to cause her harm, and he hoped the physical venting would aid both their libidos.

Her left hand balanced his helmet.

“Now, see here,” he protested. “I haven’t a smith with me to repair that.”

Her arm came back, and the helmet flew at his shoulder.

Instead of ducking, Rufus reached out to catch the heavy armor. While fumbling with both hands to keep the helmet from crashing to the floor. He felt another painful thud against his back and saw a stone roll away.

“Enough!” he roared. His patience quickly dwindled as the bruises to his skin and pride accumulated. He leapt toward the barricade.

The tantalizing tempest circled, remaining just out of reach.

With a powerful swipe of his arm, he connected with the upper chest, flinging it across the tent. He jumped over the remaining one only to stumble to his knees when her foot connected with his ankle. His curses blistered the air.

Then she had the nerve to laugh out loud, spinning out of reach.

A voice called from outside the tent. “Rufus, do you need aid?”

“Stay out of this, Donald.” He heard muffled guffaws and felt his face grow hot. He’d been tolerant long enough. “Cease, woman.” He rose to his feet, expecting another impact.

Instead, she faced him with his own sword held between her two hands.

“Don’t be foolish. If you choose to use that, you will not take two steps outside this tent without being cut down.”

She faced him calmly, her breath slowing as her hands moved on the pommel of the sword. Despite her bravado, her upper arms trembled with the effort of holding the weapon aloft.

“You will explain to me why you have made a shambles of my tent, and why you attacked me,” he demanded.

“You put that beast on me as a guard,” she yelled back.

He was relieved she at last broke her silence. Her quiet determination had begun to unnerve him. “I placed Beast there for your protection.” He needed to keep her talking while his mind sought a solution to this present coil.

“That’s his name?” She looked appalled then she shook herself. “He never left me.”

Irritated she didn’t seem to appreciate his care, he gritted out, “Those were my orders.”

“You ordered him to stay with me, even when I relieved myself?” Her voice rose toward the end.

Ahhh…he understood now. Her woman’s sensibilities had been offended. “His orders were to keep you in his sight at all times.”

“Well, your protection stinks. I don’t accept it any longer. You’ll provide me with a horse and weapons. I’m leaving.”

“You may leave when you tell me who you are and what you were doing on that battlefield yesterday. That is your only choice.” He stiffened his stance. “And do not think I will let you ride out of here without escort.”

Her eyes narrowed and her hands tightened around the pommel. “Then you’d best be prepared for a battle, because I don’t accept the terms under which you hold me captive.”

“Woman, did this morning not teach you a lesson?” he asked, frustration pounding at his temple. “You need my protection. Or did you enjoy cavorting naked before a company of men?”

“Augh!” At last, her anger made her careless. Lunging toward him with his upright sword, she managed a creditable swipe of the blade. He dodged it and stepped around the tent to keep outside her reach.

“Rufus, what is going on in there?” Donald’s worried face appeared at the opening.
Jacq turned toward the sound.

Rufus took advantage of her distraction to edge farther along the circumference of the tent. “Not now, Donald. As you can see, I am busy.”

She swung back, her gaze narrowing, her hands shifting on the hilt.

Donald’s eyebrows rose as his glance fell on the woman. “Well, Rufus, I will leave you to your game. Shout, if you need assistance.”

“Go!” Rufus ordered.

Donald disappeared behind the canvas, his laughter ringing out clearly in the early evening air.

Odds were, the whole camp would know in minutes that a woman held him at bay—with his own sword! “It seems, lady, we are at an impasse.”

“No, you’ll agree to my terms, or I’ll run you through.”

Her face appeared set, and he wondered if she truly had the courage to try. “Donald,” he yelled.

“Yes, Rufus?” came his answer through the tent walls.

“If you see the woman walk out of this tent first, you will not allow her to leave this camp.”

“If that woman walks out of the tent on her own two feet, I’ll wed her myself and breed sons on her.” Donald’s voice held amusement.

Rufus’s gaze never left hers, but he allowed an eyebrow to quirk upward.

Jacq’s face reddened, and her eyes betrayed a hint of moisture. “I can do this.”

“Madam, you have the advantage at the moment, but only because I allow it.”

“You allow it? I hold your sword.” Her voice shook along with the hands drooping under the continuous strain of holding the heavy weapon.

“You have one more chance to put down my sword and talk to me about this, or I will take it from you.”

“I dare you to try—”

That was all the encouragement Rufus needed. He lunged.

Jacq stepped backward, only to catch the backs of her knees on the overturned chest directly behind her. She flailed her arms outwards, choosing to lose the sword rather than risk impaling herself.

The weapon thudded against the canvas and hard-packed earth.

But Jacq never hit the ground.

Rufus caught her and pulled her up tightly against his chest.

~~~

Before her mind could tell her she should resist, she’d been shoved against the square wooden beam that served as the tent’s center pole. She was trapped once more by his overwhelming strength. For a few moments, she struggled. Eventually, her puny attempts ceased, and she conceded, slumping wearily against him. She dragged air into her lungs and forced up her gaze to meet his, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing defeat stamped on her face.

He held her easily, subduing her.

She recognized the awesome power of his muscled arms and thighs. She’d never stood a chance.

“Rufus, talk to me. It’s too quiet in there. Is all well?” Donald asked.

“Yes, I have her now.”

“Well, then I’ll go on to dinner. Unless, that is, you need help…”

“No, I have everything well in hand,” he answered evenly.

His gaze remained on her, his face betraying no emotion. Jacq worried now the fire of her self-righteous anger was banked. What reprisal would he seek against her for the attack?

His breathing was even, and other than a slight flush across his cheeks, he appeared unaffected.

She wished she could say the same, but that odd combination of fear and excitement thrummed along her veins. Her breaths shortened and her body softened, yielding to his. Molten liquid dampened the juncture of her thighs, and she was helpless to stop the slight undulation of her hips.

As though he sensed her ripening arousal, his nostrils flared. When he leaned ever so slightly closer, her head fell back to grant him access to her mouth. Through half-closed eyes, she watched him stare at her mouth, and she wantonly slid her tongue in a circle to wet her lips. She heard his groan a moment before his lips slammed down on hers.

For an angry kiss, it was a doozy. She learned his taste while battling for control of this joining. They parried—mouths open, tongues stabbing.

Then something happened that shifted the kiss from another battle between steel-willed adversaries to a burning need to brand and possess each other.

His palms captured her cheeks and held her while his mouth ate hers, his lips dragging over hers in drugging circles.

Jacq mewled and tugged at his hair, her tongue sliding against his, lapping and sucking, until they were both breathless.

He ground his rigid cock against her lower belly, and she relented, widening her legs to make room for him to step between. His hands raked her skirt upward, then his knees dipped slightly, and her feet left the ground.

She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and lifted her legs to encircle his waist.

They both groaned into each other’s mouths as their bodies met with only the fabric of his braies separating their straining loins.

Held high against him, her body open to his, she rubbed her moistening pussy along his length, entering a rhythm matched by their circling mouths. Jacq’s world narrowed to that burning juncture where Rufus rutted against her, the fabric chafing her tender flesh.

Animalistic grunts and groans rose between them.

Mindless now, Jacq forgot why she shouldn’t be doing this with him. She forgot she didn’t even like him—her body adored him.

His hands cupped her buttocks, squeezed and released, over and over, encouraging her to rub frantically up and down against his cock.

Suddenly clothes were too confining, and she was desperate to feel the steel of his shaft inside her. She broke the kiss. “Please!” she gasped, even as her hips rolled again.

The muscles of his buttocks bunched beneath her heels as he straightened with her in his arms and walked the short steps to her pallet. He knelt, holding her pressed to him, and lay her down amid the furs.

She writhed against him and repeated in a long, keening wail, “Please, now, Rufus.”

He rose up on his knees and dragged her bliaut over her head. Then he rent the neck opening of her borrowed shirt to the waist, shoving the ragged edges aside to expose her breasts. Rufus leaned over her and nuzzled her breast. “Jacq,” he groaned, and his mouth opened over one straining crest. He sucked it hard into his mouth.

She nearly screamed from the pleasure. But still too many clothes were between them. She wanted to touch skin.

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