#Free book + giveaway. Hearts of Owyhee by @JacquieRogers #western #romance #oldwest

Jacquie's Website | Pickle Barrel Gazette

Cowboy kisses is not for promotion, although we aren't at all averse to telling people about our books.  Still, every once in a while, the contributors do need to let folks know what we have available.  In my case, the rights to the entire Hearts of Owyhee series reverted back to me Dec. 31, so I'm reissuing the books--re-edited and with new covers.  In one case, Much Ado About Madams, I wrote a new ending.  Well, more like added-to.  

So for this month, I'm hauling out all the books for you to see.  Oh, that reminds me that I need to update my author page here at CK.  Better get to it!

And don't forget that Friday only (Jan. 9, 2015), Much Ado About Madams is free!  If you miss the free day, the book will be only 99¢ the next two days, so still a bargain.

Welcome to 1880s Owyhee County, Idaho Territory!  It was a hoppin' place in those days, and I've brought you several fictional adventures, both novels and short stories.  These can be read in any order, but here's the chronological sequence:

Much Ado About Madams
Hearts of Owyhee #1
by Jacquie Rogers

Amazon Kindle

5 Stars from Detra Fitch, Huntress Reviews: "A story this good can only come from the imagination of Jacquie Rogers."

"A rollicking riot of a good read!" ~Ann Charles, author of the Deadwood Mysteries

Low-down on Much Ado About Madams

Oh my stars! Suffragist Lucinda Sharpe can’t believe she was hired to teach a bunch of soiled doves their letters. And what about the handsome brothel owner? Only a despicable cad would engage in such a business.

Blast that woman! Reese McAdams didn’t want the brothel in the first danged place, and now a suffragist schoolteacher is stirring up the works.

Can she reform the Comfort Palace ladies without losing her heart to Reese? Will her secret past ruin her future?

"A romantic trip to the Old West stamped with Jacquie Rogers' special brand of humor. ~ Caroline Clemmons, author of Brazos Bride

"Ms Rogers' clever western romance, MUCH ADO ABOUT MADAMS manages to enrousingly engage her growing readership while reminding us of the difficulties faced by the brave women who tamed the American West. All that, and did I say entertaining!" ~ John Klawitter, author of The Freight Train of Love

♥ ♥ ♥

Much Ado About Marshals
Hearts of Owyhee #2
by Jacquie Rogers

Amazon Kindle

NOR Top Pick
CTRR Award
Winner: RttA, Best Western Historical Romance Novel

5 stars from Laron Glover: Need a break? This is a FUN book (seriously--when's the last time you read a laugh-out-loud book?)! Turn off the iphone, kick off yer boots (or Jimmy Choos) and let Jacquie Rogers provide that mini-vacation you KNOW you need!

Low-down on Much Ado About Marshals

Rancher Cole Richards rescues his friend from robbing a bank, but is shot for his efforts, and now is a wanted man. His friend takes him to Oreana to see the doc, but Cole's mistaken for the new marshal!

Daisy Gardner is obsessed with solving crimes just like dime novel heroine Honey Beaulieu. But Daisy's parents insist she marry a farmer. Problem is, she can't be a detective if she's stuck miles from town. What better solution than to marry the new marshal.

Now Cole faces a dilemma few men have to face—tell the truth and hang, or live a lie and end up married. Either way could cost him his freedom.

5 stars from romantchick: Nancy Drew meets William Shakespeare ...hilarious characters, memorable colloquialisms, a clever, engaging plot and fine writing. All of which recommends Rogers' Much Ado About Marshals as everything to do about a charming, well-written romp.

♥ ♥ ♥

Much Ado About Miners
Hearts of Owyhee #3
by Jacquie Rogers

Amazon Kindle

"My biscuits are burning from this scorcher of a book. I will never be able to bake again without a wicked grin on my face.This is the latest installment of the Much Ado series, and it's as explosive as a stick of dynamite." ~reader Karla Eakin

"My biscuits are burning from this scorcher of a book. I will never be able to bake again without a wicked grin on my face.This is the latest installment of the Much Ado series, and it's as explosive as a stick of dynamite." ~ Agnes Alexander, author of Drina's Choice

Lowdown on Much Ado About Miners

Cupid’s bullet...

Hired gun Kade McKinnon interrupts a bank holdup and is shot by the teller, Iris Gardner, whose victims have a tendency to be the next groom in town. Will he be the groom this time?

Cupid’s bow...

Iris Gardner, a smart, independent bank clerk, fell in love with Kade when she was too young to know better. So when he walks back into her life and her bank, it's only fitting that she shoots him ... by accident, of course.

Cupid’s blindfold...

Kade doesn’t know Iris’s company is the one who hired him to escort a bullion shipment, and Iris doesn’t know Kade owns the security company, but they both know robbers are on their trail. Which is more likely to be stolen—the silver, or his heart?

"...if you love a good romance set in a fun western setting, and you love to laugh, you will love this book as much as I did!" ~ reader Terry Gregson

♥ ♥ ♥

Much Ado About Mavericks
Hearts of Owyhee #4
by Jacquie Rogers

Amazon Kindle

FIVE STARS! "Jacquie Rogers writes some of the best Historical Romances on today's market. Not content to simply write a plot and toss in a lot of bed scenes and/or filler, this author adds in subplots, humor, action, suspense, and some endearing strays." ~Detra Fitch, Huntress Reviews

"When you read a Jacquie Rogers book, you know you're in for a fast, fun ride!" ~BookwormForever

Low-down on Much Ado About Mavericks

Against the sweeping backdrop of the Owyhee Mountains, Benjamin Lawrence meets the one woman who'll rattle his derby forever.

Ben is a highly respected attorney in Boston, but in Idaho Territory, they still think of him as that gangly awkward boy called Skeeter.  When he goes back home to settle his father’s estate, he’s confronted with an outlandish will and a fiery redheaded head wrangler, who just happens to be the sexiest female he's ever met.

Janelle Kathryn O'Keefe, affectionately called "Jake," can out-ride, out-shoot, and out-rope any cowboy on the Bar EL, which is why she was promoted to foreman.  She's not at all amused that she has to teach an eastern greenhorn how to work cattle, no matter how handsome he is.

5 Stars from reader Claudia Stephan: "I can't even count the times I laughed out loud while reading this book. What are you waiting for? Give it a try!"

♥ ♥ ♥

Contest!

One commenter will win a free digital copy of 

Much Ado About Mavericks  

Drawing will be January 12, 2015, at 9pm Pacific Time

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Amazon | Pickle Barrel Bar & Books 

Meet Ellie Fountain-From Sparta, TN - Again!

The Courthouse

Because I will probably be camping on my appointed day, I'm scheduling an older post I featured on Cowboy Kisses two years ago, right before I first decided to create a western blog to help revive the genre.  I didn't' have to look far to find some fantastic authors who've contributed some great stuff.

 It appears more and more authors are writing about the historical west, but not because of me, hopefully, because readers want more about Cowboys and Indians...and even romance. One of the keys to writing historical novels is to pepper enough history throughout  to help the reader learn something aside from your story.

In Ellie's Legacy, my heroine, Ellie Fountain, lives in Sparta TN...actually an unincorporated area above called Bon Air, but Sparta was where the stores, churches, and civilization existed..  I've tried adding facts throughout the story to help describe the period.  Today, I'm adding some more that people from TN might not know.

Sparta became the county seat in 1809, and was the first capitol of Tennessee.  When state legislators decided to change the location, Sparta lost to Nashville by one point.

I lived in Sparta for a time, and loved it.  It's a small community that really gave credence to "Southern Hospitality."  I think forming friendships is a main benefit of living in a place where the population isn't inflated.  Unfortunately, we were forced to move because the median wage there is just above poverty, and employment benefits died when most of the businesses went to Mexico.  Those who remain are employed by the retail stores and few business that stayed or residents farm the land.  I can't believe I made a whopping $7.55 per hour to be correction's officer at the local jail...but that conjures up a whole different story.

The Rock House

I did mention in the book that, situated between, Knoxville and Nashville, Sparta was a hub for travelers.  In fact, I think I described the Rock House which was built as a stage stop to allow passengers a rest during a long  ride and still stands today as an historical monument and testament to the times.

Beautiful Fall in an Orchard in Sparta

The Calfkiller River was also something I mentioned, as it traveres Sparta and joins the Caney Fork River.  The White Mountains provide a beautiful display of red, oranges, yellow, and green during the fall, when the trees display nature's pallet, and even more beautiful, nearby you can travel to a place called Fall Creek Falls..even camp is you wish.

Sometimes authors have an uncontrollable urge to respond to those less than favorable reviews left on Amazon.  I had one that questioned the accuracy of mining in Sparta...claimed she knew better.  To her, here...I offer this proof:

White County was the site of a very large saltpeter mining operation during the Civil War. The Cave Hill Saltpeter Pits (No. 1 and No. 2), located on Cave Hill near the mouth of England Cove, were intensively mined and still contain numerous relics from that operation. Saltpeter is the main ingredient of gunpowder and was obtained by leaching the earth from these caves.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_County,_Tennessee

For those of you who are a fan of old country music, one of the first things you'll see when you enter the city, is a memorial to Lester Flatt of Flatt and Scruggs fame.

Anyhow, I'm doing an interview here...so let's get on with it.  There is more historical in my novel.

INT – So, Ellie, tell the readers a little about Ginger's story.

 RF – *Smiles* Well, I can’t give away too much. Ginger would skin me alive, but I’m sure she won’t mind me telling you that it’s got a little romance, a lot of western, and even more feistiness than her last historical romance. My problems begin when Pa hires Tyler Bishop as the ranch foreman. I kinda figured Pa always wanted a son, and Ty proves me right. Their relationship gets me pretty riled up. I have a bad temper at times… I think it comes from this red hair. *pulls a strand forward and grins*.

INT – So, besides your jealousy of Ty, is there any adventure involved.

 RF – Oh, you bet. *Squares herself in her chair*. The polecats that live on the neighboring ranch are aiming to get Fountainhead away from Pa. Dude Bryant and his twin boys are meaner than snakes… well at least Dude and Jeb are. Joshua comes across as quiet and a follower. But, *balls hands into fists* I’ll be danged if they’re gonna get my legacy. I actually bought a gun and taught myself to shoot it.

 INT – A gun?  What for?

RF – Protect Fountainhead of course. I’m aim to show Pa he don’t need Tyler Bishop around when he has me. I just wish Ty wasn’t so dang good lookin’.

 INT – I haven’t heard you mention your mother. How does she feel about you owning a gun?

RF - *Lowers her eyes*. My ma died when I was very young. I suppose that’s why I took up with the ranch hands and spend so much time workin’ outdoors. *Raises a steely gaze*. But, now that Ty’s in the picture, Pa wants me to spend more time in the house doing womanly things.

 INT – Would that be such a bad thing?

 RF – Of course it would. I don’t much care for makin' vittle’ and cleanin’. We have Cook for that. I’d much rather brand a cow as fry one.

 INT – So what about the romance part of the story?

 RF – *Chews her bottom lip for a moment* Well, I accompany Ty to a dance in Sparta, and as usual, he gets my dander up there, too. I never should have gone, but those eyes of his make my knees weak. My better judgment flew right out the window. *Takes a deep breath* What happens from then on, you’ll have to find out for yourself. I may look young and naïve, but I’m not silly enough to give away the whole story. Miz Ginger is counting on sales to help pay for some sort of operation to make her look younger  *Looks confused*  Can they do that?

 INT – I don't know anything about plastic surgery, so let's get back to story. I've read the book and know the dance holds a key to the suspenseful part of the story, but I certainly wouldn’t want you give away too much. You’ve already given us enough of a teaser to stir some interest. Hopefully we’ll see you on a best seller’s list somewhere.

 RF – That would be right nice. It just may happen cause remember, I have a gun. *Slaps hip and fakes a draw*.

 INT - Well, here’s hoping you don’t have to use it. *laughs*. Thank you so much, Ellie for being with us today. And good luck in the future.

 RF – Oh, yeah. I almost forgot to tell you that Ellie's Legacy is on something called the “Innernet” at, *reaches in pocket and pulls out a slip of paper; reads it* http://www.amazon.com/author/gingersimpson *looks up*.  Boy, ain't that a mouthful. *looks back a paper*.  Oh...and her publisher is called Books We Love *stuffs paper back into her pocket*.  Boy, I don't understand all this http stuff, but I'm hoping everyone else does.

 INT – I've sure they do, Ellie. Thanks again for being here.

POISON, MURDER, AND WESTERN ROMANCE

Why would a writer focus on poison? I don’t plan to murder anyone in real life. However, I love to kill people in books. Great way to relax. Joking, joking. But perhaps you've seen the coffee mugs or T-shirts that boast, "Be careful what you do or you'll end up in my book" and "I kill people in books." One of the joys of being a writer is that I can take out all my frustrations on my fictional characters. Well, to you they're fictional. To me, they're (almost) real.

GIVEAWAY

I’m giving away a Kindle Fire 3G to one lucky subscriber of my Caroline’s Occasional Newsletter on December 15th. Stop by my blog or webpage (shown at the end of this post) to sign up. You might be the one who wins. I’ll feature newsletter contests like this one every few months. Don’t worry, no salesmen will call, and your email will remain confidential. Lots of authors have giveaways at this festive time of year. This is my gift to readers for buying my books, and I'll continue giveaways as long as I'm able to sit in my nice pink cave and write the books I love. Now, on to our regularly scheduled blog post:

POISONS

I first became interested in poisons years ago from reading Agatha Christie’s mysteries. I still love her books and am fascinated with poison. Many plants have medicinal qualities and other seemingly innocent lovelies can be deadly. For instance, in Alexander Dumas’ THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO, oleander leaves are ground and incorporated into food to murder. Foxglove can heal or kill, depending on how it is administered and to whom. While researching, I pour through books like DEADLY DOSES from Writers Digest Books and old herbals. My eldest daughter fed my fascination with HERBS AND THINGS by Jeanne Rose, a book on remedies that gives both friendly and unfriendly plants and their uses. My youngest daughter has given me several illustrated books on native Texas plants, many of which can be harmful. Picture the writer rubbing her hands and laughing evilly. BWAHAHAHA!

MURDER

Before scientific forensic tests, poisoners had far more freedom. Current pathologists’ tests uncover most poisons and, fortunately, create a hardship for villains. Since my current trilogy is historical, my villain is safe from sophisticated forensics. But not, of course, from my hero and heroine. Many poisons leave tell tale signs that even a medieval physician could detect. All readers know that cyanide leaves a distinctive smell and blue coloration of the victim’s lips for a while after death. Advanced arsenic poisoning colors the fingernails at the base. Can you believe women used to use arsenic to control their weight? I’d love to be thin, but not that way! Women also used to deliberately ingest tape worms supposedly as a help with their weight. But that's another post.

MEN OF STONE MOUNTAIN TRILOGY

For my current Men of Stone Mountain trilogy, I studied poisons available in the Southwest where the book is set. In the first of my trilogy, BRAZOS BRIDE, heroine Hope Montoya is being poisoned. She doesn’t know the killer’s identity or type of poison, but she is an intelligent woman and deduces the poison is administered through her food and/or her tonic. Although she is severely weakened by the contaminant, she devises a plan to escape and gain an ally. The key is to convince Micah Stone to wed her in a temporary marriage of convenience. What would convince him? As is the case now in North Central Texas, a drought has Micah’s cattle dying for lack of water. I don't want you to think Texas is always arid, so here's a photo  while the spring bluebonnets were in bloom:

Photo by my friend Nelda Liles of Plano, Texas, taken on the spring Bluebonnet Trail near Ennis, Texas

BRAZOS BRIDE BLURB

Hope Montoya knows someone is poisoning her, but who? She suspects her mother was also poisoned and knows her father was murdered. Who wants her family eliminated? She vows to fight! She realizes she won’t last the eight months until she turns twenty-five and her uncle no longer controls her or her estate. Never will she be dominated by a man as she was by her father, as she has seen her mother and grandmothers dominated. If she marries, she gains control now, but only if she weds a man she can trust. Only one man meets her requirements. Can she trust him to protect her and capture the killer...but then to leave? She offers him cash plus land adjoining the Brazos River to save his cattle.

Brazos River near where Hope's ranch is located and near my home

Micah Stone has been in love with Hope since the first time he saw her. But he was accused of her father’s murder and surely would have hung if not for his two brothers’ aid. Most in the community still believe him guilty. But the drought has him too worried about water for his dying cattle to care about his neighbors’ opinions. When Hope proposes a paper marriage in exchange for land on the Brazos River and much needed cash, her offer rubs his pride raw. His name may be Stone, but he’s not made of it. He can’t refuse her for long, and so their adventure begins. Can he save Hope before the killer succeeds and kills both of them?

A Jimmy Thomas cover from
www.romancenovelcovers.com

BRAZOS BRIDE EXCERPT

She looked at her hands. Perhaps she was unreasonable. Or maybe insane for sympathizing with a man who'd had to work harder because of her family.
"I know it is an odd situation. If—if you wear your shirt and britches, I guess it would be all right if you slept on top of the cover here." She patted the bed beside her.

He froze. Not a muscle moved, and he only stared at her. Had she misunderstood? Did he think her offer too forward?

She babbled, "That is, if you want to. You said I should trust you. Well, maybe you would be more comfortable where you are." Why didn't he say something? Would he prefer sleeping in a chair to sharing the bed?

From the street below, she heard raucous laughter and someone called to a man named Ben. Music from a piano, she supposed in the saloon, drifted in through the open windows. A gust of breeze moved the curtains and slid across her skin. In this room, though, there was no sound.

Slowly, he rose and extinguished the lamp as he moved across the room. She slid one of the pillows beside hers then scooted down. What had possessed her to offer him half her bed? Would he think she invited more?

Too late to take it back now, for the mattress dipped as he stretched out. Quaking inside at the thought of him so near, she turned her back to him. She heard his weary sigh, as if he relaxed for the first time in a long while.

"Good night," she offered, and hoped he understood the finality of the phrase.

"Yep. Good night, Mrs. Stone." The mattress shook as he turned his back to her. She felt the soles of his feet press against her ankles. He must be several inches too long for the bed and she guessed he had to bend his legs to fit. She didn't dare turn to see firsthand.

She lay perfectly still, afraid to take a deep breath. Soon his breathing changed and she knew he slept. Outside the open window the town quieted and the distant tinkling of the piano was the only sound. Light from the full moon illuminated the room and slanted across the bed. A soft breeze drifted across her, lulling her in its caress.

With a sigh, she fought to relax, but abdominal pain kept her awake no matter how her body cried for rest. Perhaps if she planned, she’d forget the pain and chills that racked her frame.

Plan, yes. She needed a plan for food preparation when she returned to her home. No, Micah said he had a plan. Oh, dear, once more he took charge when it was her life, her home.

Maybe Aunt Sofia and Uncle Jorge would have left by then and things would be fine. Already she felt more secure. She sensed her eyelids drifting closed and the sleep’s blessed relief approaching.

A gunshot ripped apart the night.

The blast startled her and she screamed as something thudded near her head, showering her hair and face with splinters. Panic immobilized her. What had happened?

Micah dragged her onto the floor as a bullet ripped into the mattress.

Did that capture your interest? I hope so!

BUY LINKS

Here is the buy link at Amazon Kindle where BRAZOS BRIDE  is available in print and e-book:
http://www.amazon.com/Brazos-Bride-Stone-Mountain-ebook/dp/B007HS10SY/ref=sr_1_14?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1332254739&sr=1-14

The buy link for the e-book at Smashwords is:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/227618?ref=CarolineClemmons

Nook's buy link is:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/brazos-bride-caroline-clemmons/1112046241?ean=2940015705805

Thank you for stopping by!

Caroline Clemmons writes mystery, romance, and adventures—although her earliest made up adventures featured her saving the West with Roy Rogers. Her career has included stay-at-home mom (her favorite job), newspaper reporter and featured columnist, assistant to the managing editor of a psychology journal, and bookkeeper. ♥ Now she writes full time and loves it! ♥ She and her husband live in rural North Central Texas with a menagerie of rescued pets. When she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with family, reading, travel, browsing antique malls and estate sales, and delving into genealogy/family history.

WHERE TO SIGN UP FOR THE KINDLE FIRE GIVEAWAY

Excerpts from some of her exceptional reviews can be found on her Website at www.carolineclemmons.com. View her Blog posts Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at http://carolineclemmons.blogspot.com and find book reviews, giveaways, interview, and miscellany.

Find her also at:
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/CarolineClemmonsRomances#!/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/carolinclemmons (No E in Caroline)
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Also on Pinterest and Wattpad
Caroline loves ♥ to hear from readers at caroline @ carolineclemmons. com

We've Come a Long Way, BABY!

Ever give thought to what our "fore sisters" went through to have children?  Both me, and my son born in 1975, probably would have died during the 1800s because of my need for an emergency c-section. Thank God for modern medicine.

 Because I write mainly historical westerns, I'm quite familiar with the history of the pioneer and Indian woman, and it was fun to research a little deeper to provide today's post.

Prior to the appearance of "physicians," which by the way was considered a male-only profession, women relied on the practical experience of other women to help bring their children into the world.  Midwives of the period relied mainly on knowledge gained from the previous birthing assistance given, and the mortality rate was high.  In fact, many women feared pregnancy, seeing it as a certain death sentence, although the numbers of live births don't support that theory. Disease and accidents claimed many young victims who did survive the process.  Men played no part in the delivery, as it was unseemly for them to witness such a private event. 

Most American Indian woman used a "women's hut" for the birthing process.  The temporary residence was frequented by women during their monthly flow as a bleeding woman was deemed possessed by spirits dangerous enough to threaten a man's power.  Prior to pregnancy, young girls spent their first menses there, being taught customary tribal tasks, however, afterwards, their joy at reaching womanhood was usually a cause for celebration.

In birthing, many a pending mother brought her babe into the world in that same hut by kneeling before a stick driven into the ground and "dropping" her child into a furrow beneath her that held a clean piece of hide for swaddling.

In comparison, the pioneer woman didn't have it much easier.  Many traveled by wagon to far destinations, seeking new homes, and many times, a train was halted so that other women could tend to the birth of a new arrival.  To say that conditions were often not sanitary is an understatement, and it wasn't until much later that any type of "pain control" was introduced into the process.

When doctors finally began practices throughout the country, many women shied away because of impropriety.  Sexuality was a very private matter, and most husbands wouldn't allow another man to view their women unclothed. 

The picture shown here was "borrowed" from a Jane Austen site, demonstrating the modesty of the time.  Boy, have things changed, or what?  Although, I can't imagine living under the guidelines governing the era and having a strange man delve beneath my skirt, at least today, it's a common practice, but skirtless.  I cringe at hearing"scoot to the end of the table and let your knees fall apart."  I always laugh at the request to "relax." Easier said than done.

Yes, indeed, things have definitely changed over the ages...with coffee, with potties, with everything, if you've read the preceding posts.  Eventually home birth gave over to hospital birth with doctors in attendance, but truly not until 1930.  Until then, women still preferred giving birth with other women at their side.  In hospital stays, the use of opiates and delivery tools were standard practice in a process that for centuries had been what we today call "natural childbirth."  The medical institutions didn't provide much safer care because of the risk of infections, opiates that halted labor and required the use of forceps with often injured or killed the child.  Still, men were not allowed to be part of the process, and spent their time in waiting rooms, being guarded from exposure to such a "harsh" event.

Over the years, the process has improved dramatically.  Fathers are now invited and encouraged to participate in the birth of their child. Some even elect to attend "childbirth classes" with their wives.  Rather than keeping the babies and mothers apart, many hospitals choose to house the newborn with the mother and encourage immediate interaction and feeding.  Now if we could just find a way for Daddy to share some of the pain, but many believe that labor is God's way of punishing us for Eve's eating of the forbidden fruit.  Dang her!

Here's a scene from one of my historical novels, Prairie Peace, which ties in nicely:

Cecile's labor intensified, and she pressed her fist against her mouth to stifle the scream rising in her throat. Another cramp wrenched through her, and she bit into her knuckles, praying that God would make the hurt go away.  Her body bore down, trying to expel the baby, as pain after pain wracked her body.

Rain Woman stood ready to receive the child.  "Push with all your might, my daughter.  Your child is almost here."

Cecile wanted to scream--needed to scream.  "Get it out, please, please get it out!  If I push any harder I'm going to turn myself inside out."

While she crouched over the earthen pit in front of the labor stake, Little Dove massaged Cecile's abdomen in an attempt to move the baby.  With each pain, she tightened her grip and strained with all her might.  The hours seemed like an eternity and the pain never ending.  "I can't go on...I'm too tired," she finally declared.

The pushing became involuntary, and groaning and grunting, she used what she thought was her last breath and thrust her baby into the world.  All discomfort was forgotten when she heard its healthy cry.

***

Prairie Peace was my debut novel and received a four-star review from Romantic Times Magazine, which back in the day was quite shocking for me.  I hope you'll be enticed to check out the story of Cecile Palmer, who in 1860 eventually becomes "Green Eyes" as she married the handsome brave who saves her from pending winter, no supplies, and a husband they both believed dead. 

Thanks for stopping by today, and here's wishing you lots of Cowboy Kisses!

White Heart, Lakota Spirit - Historical Romance

 I'm fascinated by the Lakota, and you'll find my stories that contain historical facts about Indians are geared to this specific tribe.  My aim is never to portray those with redskin in a poor light because much was done to provoke the Indians to acts of war and brutality they may never have carried out had they been left to live their lives in peace.  A very spiritual race, Indians revered nature and took only what was necessary to live, while their mainstay, the buffalo, were slaughtered needlessly for sport and thinned to the point where starvation and the inability to survive threatened.  I wrote White Heart, Lakota Spirit to honor the Lakota Nation, and to show that even in a time of sorrow and hatred, one white woman helped another to understand that on the inside we are all the same.  I hope you enjoy my excerpt and want to read more:


Captured by a Lakota war party, her family slaughtered before her very eyes, Grace must eventually decide where she truly belongs.

Green Eyes stood outside her lodge and spread three large rabbit pelts across her drying rack. A commotion caught her attention, and she crossed the compound to where a crowd gathered. She stood on tiptoes, looking over shoulders to see what caused the excitement.

Little Elk stepped aside, and the reason for the fervor became evident. Black Crow towered over a terrified young white girl who looked to be around sixteen. Her sobbing had no affect on him, and with eyes wide with fright, she cowered in the dirt at her captor’s feet.

Intent on helping the poor child, Green Eyes pushed through the crowd. She tapped Little Elk on the shoulder. “Who is this girl? Where did she come from?”

“Black Crow captured her. She will be his prisoner.” The young brave standing before Green Eyes hardly compared to the twelve-year-old orphan left behind by Spotted Doe. His body was no longer that of a child, and his voice boomed with authority.

His attitude angered Green Eyes. “What were you thinking? You cannot keep her against her will.”

Black Crow grabbed the white girl by her wrist and yanked her to her feet. He pushed Little Elk aside and glared at Green Eyes. “You have no say in the matter. It is not your place to question the actions of a warrior. Go away from me.”

Appalled at his behavior, she scanned the area for her husband but didn’t see him. She squared her shoulders and faced Black Crow. “I may not have the right to say anything, but your Chief most certainly will.”

Even as the words tumbled out of her mouth, she shivered in fear that she’d overstepped her boundaries. The young captive’s pitiful sobs tore at Green Eyes’ heart as Black Crow dragged her toward his mother’s lodge. Someone had to help the girl.

* * * *

Grace scanned the village and the seemingly hostile people surrounding her. Her heart pounded with fear. What would become of her? Her mind played flashbacks of her family sprawled on the ground. Not even a proper burial ... just left to the hungry animals roaming the plains. If only she could block the scene from her mind, but her heart ached for the loss of her family. She’d never see her mother’s lovely face or hear her father’s booming voice.... And her brother, Kevin, her protector and best friend. He died without even experiencing life.

Oh, how she hated the brutal and heartless man who held her tether. Never before had she wished anyone dead, but if he dropped at her feet, she’d find the energy to dance with joy. Her mind spun in a million directions. What was her captor saying? Was he going to kill her? What had her family done to deserve such a brutal end?

The sound of arguing intruded into her thoughts. She looked up and spied red braids. For a moment Grace’s thoughts turned to something other than her own pending death. Didn’t all Indians have dark hair? The woman’s locks shone like fire, but her sun-kissed skin made it difficult to tell if she was white. Could she be a captive, too?

****

White Heart, Lakota Spirit is available for sale on Amazon, and through the publisher, Eternal Press, in both print and download.

Ginger's Six Sentence Sunday

Hi, I had to move Six Sentence Sunday to this blog because I'm right in the middle of a Valentine's Blog Event at Dishin' It Out.  I hope you enjoy the picture of my handsome cowboy.  Oh, and be sure to go back to SSS and follow some of the other links for more exciting reads.  Yes, I do consider mine exciting.  :)

Today, I'm continuing with Sisters in Time, which fits here nicely because if you'll remember, Taylor is stuck in the old west...Colorado to be exact, and in this scene, Mariah's husband, who believes Taylor IS Mariah, is trying to help refresh her memory when she claims nothing about the Rocking C is familiar.  He's just brought a cup of coffee out to her on the porch and is reminding her how long they've been married:

My six:

Seventeen years? She tried to compute the numbers and shook her head. “This doesn’t add up. I’m twenty-seven years old. If I married you seventeen years ago, I would have been ten. I married David when I was twenty-two. If you add seventeen years to that, you’re trying to tell me I’m almost forty. That’s ridiculous.”

Sisters in Time is published by Eternal Press and available on Amazon and other places too numerous to mention.

Nothing Western About This Trend

All the buzz is about the Kindle Select Program and how authors are seeing increased sales for books offered through that venue.  I have two books contracted with a non-traditional publisher, and it appears, the rumors are true.  Despite having my books given away free on a spotlight day, the promotional effort has created enough visibility that I moved up in the ranks and sold mega copies the following days.  Amazing.  BUT...

The e-publishing uproar is great in so many respects...especially for those with new books to contract and have a say in the price.  I've been writing for over ten years and have several books published through traditional e-publishers, and the concern for me is the pricing.  I'm not as concerned with charges for print books since most of the focus is now on downloads...finally.  There are, however, some old school folks who still want to hold a "real" book in their hands, but are they willing to pay the outlandish prices being asked?

A question I've continued to ask myself for years is...why would someone order and wait to receive one of books when they can go to Walmart and buy two or three by a well-known mainstream author?  I'm good, but I'm also relatively unknown except for in small circles here on the Internet.  I don't know how to increase my visibility unless Oprah discovers me. That's not likely to happen as she hasn't answered any of my emails. *lol*

Besides, the price for me is prohibitive for anyone on a fixed income.  I understand my publishers have to make a profit. They also have to pay the editor, copy editor, cover artist, and whatever other fees are incurred, then we split what's left, which sometimes is more a slap in the face than an honor.  I find that making ten cents per print copy sold ($9.95-13.95) leaves a very bitter taste in my mouth.  I make far more on downloads, but the majority of any money I make right now is on the two books with the least expensive price of $2.99.  Those priced in the $5.95 neighborhood are going nowhere and there's nothing I can do but wait until my contract expires and hope someone is willing to accept previously published work.  I see Amazon's KDP as a way of getting my brand of writing in the public eye...something I've been striving to do for years.

I will, in the future, probably chose to self-publish and cut out the middleman, but that doesn't mean I don't recommend signing with a publisher.  New authors who jump in feet first, self-publish, and then rue the fact that their editing stinks, are placing a stigma on the more-seasoned and trained authors who choose the route.  This is a stigma those of us who started in the e-industry have faced all along.  Signing with a traditional house who takes pride in what they turn out has been a valuable experience for me.  I thought I'd written a prize-winning novel with my debut book, but it turned out to be nothing more than a delightful story I'd TOLD.  I didn't SHOW my reader the emotions, smells, and other senses involved in a true novel.  I head-hopped, used passive voice, made rookie mistakes that I've since learned to avoid.  I wouldn't have learned any of this without my editor, and thankfully, I learned before the manuscript was published.  I earned a four-star review on that novel from Romantic Times, which at that period, was being especially tough on e-authors.  That one review will always remain a "gem" in my crown.

Don't get me wrong....I don't believe any of my books are error-free, and I'm constantly learning.  I do that now through critique groups with other experienced authors who have learned similar but often different lessons through their own editing sessions.  I'm still very much involved with and part of my author's groups, but I'm seeing a swing in the trend which lures and confuses me at the same time.  I wonder where all this is leading.

  B&N has already announced they are removing Amazon titles from their stores because of the exclusivity involved..."Barnes & Noble won’t sell books from Amazon’s new print publisher in its brick-and-mortar stores, in an attempt to cut off access for the online books behemoth that it says “undermined the industry” by signing exclusive agreements with publishers, agents, and authors," and lots of other book stores have already closed.  I wanted an e-book revolution, but it it's going to turn out to be a bloody battle like the Civil War, then maybe I've been wishing for the wrong thing.  You?

Logging and Love by Paty Jager

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006YTKT2U

Some people may not figure my newest release, Logger in Petticoats, to be a western because it deals with logging. But logging, once the railroads connected the country, became a booming business in the west. All the majestic forests in Oregon and Washington made the early entrepreneur drool knowing they could move the logs and lumber great distances to communities that were growing but had a lack of trees.
Hank Halsey, the hero in Logger in Petticoats, had been eyeing the thick, tall pines on his family’s mountain since he was boy. But helping with the family mine and then taking care of things as each of his other brothers married, he felt obligated to do his duty. By the winter of 1891 he decided it was time to strike out on his own-harvesting the trees on their land.
Knowing very little about logging he hires a family run operation and begins learning what it takes to fall a tree properly and get it moved to the stockpile at camp. A camp of sixty men needs lots of good food to keep them doing a hard day’s work. I added a mother/daughter cooking operation to the mix but the daughter would rather be out swinging an axe than stirring a pot of stew.
Here is the blurb for Logger in Petticoats the fifth book of the Halsey brother series.
Hank Halsey believes he’s found the perfect logging crew—complete with cooks—until he discovers Kelda Neilson would rather swing an axe than flip eggs. As he sets out to prove women belong in the kitchen, he’s the one in danger of getting burned.
Strong and stubborn, Kelda Nielsen grew up falling trees and resents any man who believes she’s not capable, until Hank. He treats her like a lady and has her questioning what that means.
As Kelda and Hank’s attraction builds, she hires a cook so she can sneak out and work in the woods. But will her deceit ruin her chance at love or will hardheaded Hank realize it’s more than his love that puts a sparkle in Kelda’s eye?Excerpt:
Kelda already stood by the door, a man’s black wool coat buttoned to her neck and a wool scarf wrapped around her head. Her flushed cheeks shone in the lantern light. Her gaze met his solid and unflappable.
“If Kelda isn’t back in here in fifteen minutes you can come looking for us.” Hank said to appease Karl as he pulled on his coat,
“I don’t know what you’re worrying about. No man is going to think of Kelda in the way you’re talking.” The door hadn’t fully closed when Dag’s voice cleared the threshold.
Kelda’s shoulders drooped proving she’d heard her brother’s comment. She walked around the corner of the cookhouse to a fallen log at the backside of the building. Hank wanted to catch up to her and wrap an arm around her shoulders. She was a fine woman. Any man would be dang lucky to have her for a wife. He stood in front of her as she sat on the log, her face pointed toward the men’s logging boots on her feet.
Hank crouched in front of Kelda, tipping her face up to read her emotions. “Your brother sees you only as his sister. You’re a woman any man would be lucky to marry.”
Tears glistened in her eyes. “I’m the size and body of a man. Men want a small delicate woman.” She wiped at the tears, and her hands clutched his. “Don’t make Far keep me out of the woods. It’s all I have to make me happy.”
Pleading in her eyes and voice sucker punched Hank. “Why would you want to work alongside men in the woods? Women belong in the home.”
“I don’t care to work inside. I love the outdoors and the labor of logging. Don’t keep me out of the woods. It’s the one thing I can do well.”
The strong grip of her fingers on his proved her strength. He had no doubt she was a skilled woodsman…woman. He pried her fingers from his hands and held them between his palms. “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you in the woods. It isn’t proper for a woman to work like that. And what if you prove too weak to handle a job and someone else gets hurt?”
“Ooooo!” Her hands ripped from his grasp and rammed him in the chest. He started tipping backwards and grabbed the first thing in reach—Kelda’s arms.
He fell back into the snow dragging Kelda on top of him.
The surprise in her eyes quickly turned to interest as she gazed down into his face. Her body sprawled across Hank, pressing him into the snow. Even with the heavy clothing, her curves were evident as her relaxed body molded over his.
Hank pushed the scarf back from her face and stared into amazing eyes that glistened from the moonlight bouncing off the snow. Her gaze searched his. The rise and fall of her chest quickened. She licked her lips…
He held her head in his hands. Inch by inch, Hank drew her lips closer, wondering if the heat and passion he’d witnessed in her eyes would be in her kiss.
“Kelda!”
The male voice broke through the insanity of his actions. Hank rolled, rose to his feet, and pulled Kelda up with him.You can find this in ebook at:Kindle
Smashwords
Nook
You can learn more about me at my blog; www.patyjager.blogspot.com website; http://www.patyjager.net or on Facebook; https://www.facebook.com/#!/paty.jager and twitter; @patyjag. 　http://tinyurl.com/7henkx3http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/123943

If The Pants Fit by Alison Bruce

A few years ago I entered the book that would become Under A Texas Star in a literary contest. I was prepared for criticism of my characterization, plot, and/or pace. After all, the chief reason I entered the contest was to get feedback I could use to improve my story.
I was dumbfounded that the judges’ chief complaint was that it wasn’t believable that a young woman could pass as a young man. Now that Under A Texas Star is published, I feel I can indulge in a little rant on the topic.

The dramatic device of a woman masquerading as a man has been around forever. It’s as accepted in historical romance as fast-than-light travel is in science fiction. Let’s set that aside, however. The fact is, women have been successfully posing as men throughout history.

I belong to Minerva, a history list devoted to women in the military. Thanks to the academics and enthusiasts, I learned that at least 400 women fought in the American Civil War. They cut their hair, bound their breasts and learn to behave like men. They were only ever discovered if wounded or killed or, as in the case of Sarah Emma Edmonds, they wrote about it afterwards.

I’ve picked Sarah Emma Edmonds, aka Frank Thompson, as an example because, like me, she’s Canadian. Edmonds escaped an abusive father in Nova Scotia to live in the United States. When her adopted country went to war, she was determined to serve.

Sarah could have been the heroine of her own romance. She served as a “male” nurse in an army hospital, then as a Union spy - disguising herself as a black man, an Irish peddler, and black mammy. In a ploy straight out of Victor-Victoria, she masqueraded as a man masquerading as a woman. Her story includes horse chases, gun play and near escapes - not unlike the adventures of Marly Landers in Under A Texas Star.

Unfortunately Sarah contracted malaria and had to desert or be found out. She returned to Canada, fell in love and returned to the States with her husband. They had three sons who, like their mama, served in the US Army.

To find out more about Sarah, check out her biography or read the Civil War Women Blog.

To find out more about Marly Landers, read Under A Texas Star, available in Kindle, Nook, Kobo, other formats on Smashwords and in paperback on Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

Disguised as a boy, Marly joins a handsome Texas Ranger in the hunt for a con man and they must bring the fugitive to justice before giving up the masquerade and giving in to their passion.

When Marly Landers is fooled by con man Charlie Meese, she's determined to bring him to justice--even if it means dressing up as a boy and setting off across the plains to find him.

“This is a rollicking adventure and Marly Landers is a girl with True Grit.”
Phyllis Smallman, Arthur Ellis Award winning author of Champagne for Buzzards

Alison Bruce has an honours degree in history and philosophy, which has nothing to do with any regular job she’s held since. A liberal arts education did prepare her to be a writer, however. She penned her first novel during lectures while pretending to take notes.
Alison grew up surrounded by the great dames of golden age mysteries - Christie, Sayer, Marsh - Georgette Heyer’s historical romances and the classic westerns of Louis L’Amour and Zane Grey. Naturally enough her debut novel, Under A Texas Star, is a mystery-romance set in the old west. 

www.alisonbruce.ca, alisonebruce.blogspot.com, twitter.com/alisonebruce,  www.facebook.com/alisonbruce.books

Say Howdy again to Keta Diablo

Dark Night of the Moon

Keta Diablo

A paranormal/historical

Read more here: Amazon Author Page

Coming to a Kindle and Nook near you on January 1, 2012

Dark Night of the Moon is the second book in the series and the sequel to Holding on to Heaven.

Creed Gatlin flees to Arizona intent on eradicating the haunting memories of his brother’s wife. His brother Brand, presumed dead, resurfaces after a long absence and with his re-emergence, the destinies of those he loves is altered forever.

In a land rife with war and danger, Sage must travel to the village of her husband’s People. There, she is reunited with Crooked Back, the ancient healer. One the long trek back to Full Circle, devious plots are underfoot and peril lurks around every corner for Sage, Lauren and Peter Pa.

Dark Night of the Moon will take you on an unforgettable journey of war, violence, overwhelming grief, and finally, compassion and love.

* * *

 Excerpt from Dark Night of the Moon: Sage takes an arrow intended for the wolf

Late in the afternoon, Sage emerged from the tipi. She didn't have to search for Looks Back. He lurked outside the lodge like a Roman soldier guarding a sacred tomb. She pointed to the woods -- a sign she needed to relieve her bladder.

A bow and a quiver of arrows hung from his left shoulder and tucked into the waistband of his breachclout, the shiny handle of his long knife glistened beneath the hot sun. 

With Looks Back dogging the heels of her moccasins, Sage selected a clearing surrounded by tall pines and dense underbrush. Respecting her privacy, the brave turned his back, but kept his sharp eyes peeled on the outskirts of the clearing.

The branches on a nearby scrub rustled. No doubt a critter searching for his next meal. The eerie feeling someone was watching her claimed her again, a sensation she couldn't ignore. She turned her head toward the noise and uttered a quiet gasp when her eyes met the yellow eyes of the wolf. "Walking Spirit," she whispered, her heart pounding.

Time hung suspended on the boundary of sanity and absurd. Reason told her men didn't turn into wolves, and yet she knew in her heart her man had.
 
Looks Back spun around, his keen sense alerted to danger. He pulled an arrow from his quiver as Sage scrambled to her feet and adjusted her clothing. His eyes narrowed; he notched and arrow drew back on the sinew.

"No!" she screamed and lunged toward the shrub. A white-hot pain shot through her chest. She looked down and watched the blood soak her doeskin dress. My blood? Sage fell to her knees and then crumbled to the ground, the canopy of pine branches spinning overhead. "Run, Walking Spirit, run," she gasped between pain-filled breaths.

Looks Back loomed over her, his face masked in terror. He drew her into his arms and sprinted back to camp, stumbling over his own feet as he entered Mad Bear's lodge. Laying her on her berth of soft branches he knelt beside her and stared at the arrow embedded in her torso. 

Pain choked her when she turned to look at him. "You must pull the arrow
out." 

Tremors claimed his lean body when the howl of the wolf split the still air. He rose and paced the tipi, his eyes locked on the opening. 

"You must pull it out! If you don't, I'll die, and so will you when Mad Bear returns." 

He came to an abrupt halt, his face white with fear. "I can not do this thing."
 
"You can and you will." She didn't believe for a minute he cared about her welfare, but she had to convince him if he didn't remove the arrow Mad Bear would kill him when he returned. That was her only chance.

He knelt beside her again, sweat from his forehead trickling into his dark eyebrows. He jumped when the haunting lament from the wolf echoed around them.

"Soon I will lose consciousness from the loss of blood. You must hurry --break it off close to the skin."

His voice trembled. "Then what must I do?"

"Dig the arrow out with your knife."

"No, no. Do not ask this of Looks Back."

Struggling for breath, she rose to an elbow and stared into his dark eyes. "You listen to me. I'll be dead by nightfall if you don't. My medicine pouch, there." She pointed to a shelf over her berth. Find the bone needle and pull a strong hair from your horse's tail to sew up the wound when you're done."

The brave rose, pulled the pouch from the shelf and handed it to her.She dumped the contents on the floor and held a twisted stem before him. "Cat's claw. Once the arrow is removed, place the leaves over the wound and
cover it with a wet rag."

He shook his head. 

"No more talk." She softened her voice. "If you plan to grow old, you must remove it. Now, find a leather thong I can put between my teeth, and be quick."

* * *

For more on Keta Diablo, visit her website and blog.

 Keta is offering an ebook to one lucky commenter from yesterday and today's post . Please leave your name and e-mail below to be eligible to win. Your e-mail will never be used by Keta for any purpose other than this contest. However, if you'd like to sign up for her newsletter, you can do that here: http://ketaskeep.blogspot.com (upper right hand corner). The owner of Cowboy Kisses will select a winner tomorrow and announce it on the blog. Winner will also be notified by e-mail. GOOD LUCK everyone!

Say Howdy to Keta Diablo

Holding On To Heaven

Erotic Romance/Historical

Keta Diablo

AVAILABLE NOW ON KINDLE AND NOOK: Amazon Author Page

Watch the Video trailer: http://bit.ly/lbBTir

BLURB:

When the blazing fires of revolt ravage the countryside, Lauren and Sage McCain are trapped amid the flames of destiny. The Civil War has crumbled a Nation, and the Dakota Sioux uprising has turned southern Minnesota into a violent battlefield.

Holding on to Heaven is a story of love between two men and a woman, love between siblings, and love that crosses all boundaries and forges all cultures.

* * *

Setup and Excerpt: The Horse Race. Creed and Lauren race against one another at a family gathering.  An experienced rider, Lauren soon realizes she can’t beat Creed unless she cheats.

* * *

Through the pounding heartbeat in Lauren’s ears she realized she wanted Creed, wanted him like she’d never wanted another. Damn, had she lost her mind? The man reeked danger and abandon, would take her body quicker than . . . no, it wouldn’t be quick. He’d take her slow. Their love would be wild, crazy and passionate, all the things she’d yearned for, craved, in the dark solace of her dreams. Lord, how she wished she’d never laid eyes on the decadent man.  

Brand’s calm voice pulled her from her tumultuous thoughts. “Time for that race, Lauren.” He rose and offered her his arm. “I’m placing my money on you.”

“I wouldn’t advise you do that.”

“You can beat Creed. Concentrate, and no matter how much you want to see if he’s about to run you over, don’t look back.”

She chewed on the inside of her cheek and nodded. “It’s going to take a miracle to win, isn’t it?”

“Miracles happen every day.” He brought his fingers to her face and brushed her cheek. “Ride like you rode against me today and you have a chance.”

* * * *

An indefinable feeling snaked through Creed’s gut when Brand walked forward with Lauren. Anna pressed her voluptuous breasts into his side and wished him luck, but he didn’t hear her words. Tired of Anna’s continual demands, the time had come for them to go separate ways. He’d known Anna for years, but only in the last several months had he succumbed to her fleshy curves. The woman had tried every wile known to female to rein him in, and all had failed. Although warm and eager, Anna had never held his interest for more than an hour or two. But then no woman had ever intrigued him the way Lauren McCain did.

He’d stifled the jolt of lust pedaling through his veins as she watched him during the meal. It had taken all his reserve to act detached while she sat beside his brother and flashed her cat-like eyes at him. He didn’t like the feelings she aroused in him. They left him sullen and edgy. Jesus, what in hell was wrong with him? He barely knew the she-cat with a tongue sharper than barbs.

Now, with every step she took toward him, the blood rushed to his groin. He wasn’t prepared for the vision she presented, the snug riding pants and filmy blouse. A dark brown ribbon held her hair back from her face and then tumbled down her back in a veil of burnished copper. The color of those silky tresses reminded him of autumn leaves. Brown eyes slanted upward at the corners, topped by arched brows that rose articulately depending on her expression. How had he missed that nuance when he’d committed to memory every other feature of her face?

Tall for a woman and thinner than smoke, he imagined running his hands down the small of her back, her perfect bottom and . . . hell, he had to stop thinking about fucking her all the time. He had to beat her in the race, and beat her he would. Smiling to himself, he savored the thought of what it would be like to take her down a notch or two. Only then would that smirk be wiped from her lovely face—the I’m-better-than-you-sneer she flaunted now as she sashayed forward.

“Miss McCain, I hope you haven’t gorged yourself.” Inwardly, he smiled when color stained her cheeks. “I’d hate to see your mount weighted down for the final race.”

“Don’t worry about Adobe or me.” She spat the words and mounted. “We’re more than ready to leave you in our dust.”

The gold flecks in her eyes sparked. For a brief moment he forgot about the crowd and longed to yank her from the saddle and introduce her back to the dust she spoke of.

“To your success.” Creed raised his tankard of ale, downed it and set it on the ground near his feet. He spoke to Mason as he swung a leg over the saddle, his words confident and bold. “Let’s be about it then.”

The crowd broke into rowdy whistles and then fell silent at Mason’s words. “On the count of three. One . . . two . . . three!”

The horses bolted at the retort of the pistol. Adobe and Creed’s black mare ran neck and neck to the opposite end of the field. Thick clumps of sod flew through the air from Adobe’s hooves as he sailed over the bundles in perfect sync with Creed’s mount. He dragged his gaze from her expert riding skills and concentrated on the race.

Someone obviously had warned her not to look over her shoulder. She rode low, close to the stallion’s mane her lush body one with the horse. The very air enveloping them groaned with a competitive edge he’d never felt before. The spitfire intended to beat him at any cost.

Although fleet of foot, his mare lacked size against the stallion. When they reached the bales at the far end of the field, his time had come to overtake her. Her stallion navigated the crazy-eight with ease, and so did the mare. His moment was at hand. As the mounts crossed over and headed for opposite sides, she dug her heels into Adobe’s side and drove him into the mare’s withers. His horse stumbled to her stifles, her frightened whinnies echoing through the air. Lauren pressed on without as much as a backward glance.

The mare found her footing and like her rider, rage spurned her onward. She made up for the precious lost seconds the reckless stunt had cost them, but not enough to charge over the finish line before the stallion.

The crowd went wild as the riders swept past them in a swirling haze of dust. Damn, the cheating bitch had won. Halting near the corral, Lauren dismounted and bolted from her mount.

Creed dogged her heels, so close, he saw her knees quake. “You cheated!” He advanced and poked a finger into her chest. “You could have killed me with that crazy stunt you pulled!”

She backed away, visibly shaken. “Whatever are you talking about? You lost, fair and square.”

He screamed so loud, she jumped. “Liar!”

“Your clumsy mount lost her footing and plowed into Adobe!” Their gazes locked, and in that infinitesimal moment, he lost pace with his breathing. “You, Creed Gatlin,” she said her voice quavering. “Were bested by a mere woman so live with it.”

“You’re no woman.” He didn’t know if he wanted to ring her slender neck or toss her to the ground and slam into her until she admitted that she cheated. “You’re a spoiled little bitch!”

An audible gasp fell from her lips before her brown eyes narrowed.

“You could never beat me fair and square and you know it.” He struggled to control his emotions. She’d beaten him in the race, albeit by cheating, but why did he sense she was beating him again now? 

Her bottom lip trembled. He became aware of her childlike vulnerability, and his potent desire for her. The cutting remarks, the bold, confident persona were nothing more than a façade on her part. Her nearness sent his senses reeling―the scent of woman, horse and leather adding to the roaring chaos in his head. She stumbled on the words she tried to speak and tears filled her eyes.

“Leave, now,” he said. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”

She raised her dainty chin and held his eyes for an eternity it seemed. Then her long lashes swept down across her cheeks before she bustled passed him in a cloud of dust. 

 

 Tune in tomorrow for more from Keta Diablo
 Keta is offering an ebook to one lucky commenter from today and tomorrow. Please leave your name and e-mail below to be eligible to win. Your e-mail will never be used by Keta for any purpose other than this contest. However, if you'd like to sign up for her newsletter, you can do that here: http://ketaskeep.blogspot.com (upper right hand corner). The owner of Cowboy Kisses will select a winner tomorrow and announce it on the blog. Winner will also be notified by e-mail. GOOD LUCK everyone!