A Chef, a Cook, and a Sweet Romance

Tomorrow is the day!

Release day for Challenging the Chef!

I’m thrilled to share this book with you because it was such a joy to write Owen and Tawni’s story.

Owen had it all. A skyrocketing career as a celebrity chef, a life in New York many only dream of. But when his uncle needed him, Owen walked away from it all. After his uncle’s death, he stayed in Summer Creek, a small-town full of people who flock to Owen’s restaurant, and not just because it’s the only place open for dinner.

Tawni loves to cook, and is excited about learning from the celebrity chef she had a crush on during her enter last year of college.

But when these two meet, nothing is like their expectations.

 

When an interloper arrives in his kitchen, will romance start to simmer?

Chef Owen Thorpe left behind his celebrity status when he moved to Summer Creek. The quaint town and country atmosphere allow him to seek solace in his recipes. His peace and quiet is threatened when he’s coerced into being part of a big auction package that includes the winner spending a week cooking with him in his restaurant. The last thing he wants is some chef wannabe in his way. However, the real danger he faces is losing his heart when the winner turns out to be a beautiful woman who knows her way around a kitchen.

Burdened by the weight of her demanding career as a school psychologist, Tawni Young turns to cooking and gardening to escape from the never-ending stress of her work. When her aunt gifts her an auction package that includes cooking lessons in the small town of Summer Creek, Tawni realizes the chef she’ll be working with is none other than a celebrity she had a huge crush on during her college years. From the moment the two of them meet, an undeniable attraction sizzles while wits collide.

As they embark on a tantalizing journey of culinary delights, will Tawni and Owen discover the most important ingredient is love?

In this heartwarming and deliciously wholesome tale, Challenging the Chef takes readers on a savory adventure filled with sweet romance.

You can read the first chapter here!

Read the entire Summer Creek Series!

  • Catching the Cowboy
  • Rescuing the Rancher
  • Protecting the Princess
  • Distracting the Deputy
  • Guiding the Grouch
  • Challenging the Chef

What’s one thing you do to relax or unwind? 

Please share your answer in the comments.

I like to bake!

Also, if you haven’t yet, you can download a free Summer Creek themed bundle of goodies that includes a short story, printable bookmarks, a puzzle, coloring pages, and a recipe!

A New Venture into the World of Short Stories

Howdy!

And good morning!

Well, I guess it was earlier this year when our wonderful blog creator, Pam Crooks, wrote to me to ask me if I might contribute a short story to their anthology.  (I hope that’s the right word.)

Short stories have never been my niche.  I tend to be “long winded” and need a little space in order to collect my thoughts.  And, I love the freedom of setting up the story and having what seems to me to be lots of time to tell the story properly.  But, I told Pam I’d try.  The upshot of this was that I did write a short story, which is still in the anthology you can find here on the blog, and found it was a little easier to write than I had thought it would be.

My considerations on not writing short stories have been that every word counts (forgetting that this is true in a long novel, too).  But, I do much, much research for my stories and so I have my mind full of true stories from the early days of the traders first coming into Blackfeet Country as told by James Willard Schultz.  I tell these true stories to my grandchildren often when I pick them up from school, and, because they seem to like them (they often request a story from me), I thought that maybe I could use what I have learned from these early accounts  to write a romantic fiction story, based on these tales from the early 1800’s.

Lo and behold, I found it to be fun…not the grind I had thought it would be.

Now, over the years, I’ve taken a few of the beginning parts of a couple of my stories (where the hero and heroine are children or teens) and have made them into little books of my own making for my grandchildren.  With recent editing of these and getting two of them together for the book, I’ve now published a book of three Historical Native American Romance short stories for teens and young adults.

They are sweet stories of first love, but also tell of some of the real and true dangers the Indians encountered in our long ago past.  And so, I’ve now published all three of these stories in a book entitled, THE COURTSHIP OF MEDICINE PAINT, using the pen name of Genny Cothern.  They are stories from the early days in the wild west and the first story of Medicine Paint is based on two true stories, though highly fictionalized.

The other two stories are MOON WOLF AND MISS ALICE and RED HAWK AND THE MERMAID.

Here is the link:  https://tinyurl.com/thecourtshipofmedicinepaint

Because this is a new venture for me, it sure would warm my heart if you’d go over and have a look.  Soon, I hope to have the book in paperback, also.

Now, to other news — if you are on my newsletter list, you’ll know the the entire MEDICINE MAN Series is going on sale on the 12th (Thursday).  But only for a few days.

Book #1, SHE STEALS MY BREATH will be on sale for $.99 cents — Book #1

SHE CAPTURES MY HEART will be on sale for $2.99 — Book #2

and my latest book, SHE PAINTS MY SOUL will be on sale for $3.99.

 

This is the link to the series page:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09X4V1HRT?tag=pettpist-20

And now for a recipe I promised to post to the blog in my newsletter today.  For those of you who are not on my newsletter list, let me repeat a little segment from it:

This recipe comes from the book, COOKING WITH SPIRIT, North American INDIAN Food and Fact by Darcey Williamson and Lisa Railsback.
Plains Pemmican (Traditional)
“Dry long, thin strips of buffalo meat.  Pound meat to a coarse powder.  Cut raw fat into walnut-sized pieces and melt over slow fire.  Pour fat over pounded meat and mix in some dried serviceberries.  Mix it well and pack in parfleches.”
     As many of you might know, when men were going to be going on the war trail or were going to make a long journey, they carried pemmican with them.  It was a nourishing food and could sustain a warrior through many weeks of being away from home — depending upon how long he was going to be away and how much he was able to carry with him.  Often, in my books, the hero of the story shares his pemmican or dried meat with the heroine.
     I’ve never made pemmican, but I’ve mirrored it when I am going on a long car ride and then I use dried meat, butter or coconut oil and usually raisins or other dried fruit.  It is not only delicious, it keeps one alert and very importantly…awake.
So I promised to share my own recipe for dried meat.
Here it is:
     In the old days, they dried meat over a low fire or in a smoke house.  Since I don’t have either of those, I marinade very thinly sliced beef in an equal combination of red wine and traditionally made soy sauce, covering the meat completely.  (I use Ohsawa Nama Shoyu Unpasteurized Soy Sauce.)  I marinade this in the refrigerator (because sometimes I forget about it.)  Usually I marinade it for several days.  Then I dehydrate it in a dehydrator until it cracks when you pick it up and tear it.  (Dehydrating it until it cracks was an instruction my sister on the Blackfeet reservation gave me on when it is properly dried.)  Don’t worry about the wine in the marinade.  By the time the jerky — or dried meat — is done, the alcohol from the wine is gone.  It usually takes 2-4 or more days to dry it.
     Very easy to make (you can often get the meat already sliced thin) and very delicious, nourishing and very satisfying.  It’s from this kind of dried meat that pemmican is made.
     Well, that’s all for today.  Hope you enjoyed the blog and hope you’ll go and check out the new short story book, THE COURTSHIP OF MEDICINE WOLF.  Let me know what you think, and, as always, thank you so much for coming to the blog today and for commenting.

Always Time For Hope

Yes, indeed there’s always time for hope and the holidays always fill my heart to the brim. I’m so looking forward to Christmas. The last few weeks I’ve felt fall in the air and it’s made the anxiousness even worse. We’ve gotten so much good rain and I feel very blessed.

HOPE’S ANGEL came out last year about this time and is set in the fictional town of Genesis where the real town of Thurber, Texas once was a thriving community. It contained the only coal mine in the state and it was also the only company run town. It was owned by the Texas and Pacific Coal Company. Nothing was free enterprise, not even the doctor. Everyone was paid in company script that could only be spent in the company store.

My fictional hero, Jericho Cane, lives there and he and his partner sell beef to the company to feed the miners. But Jericho never steps foot out of his house until after everyone goes to sleep. He suffered a horrible accident that’s left him horribly scarred so townsfolk call him a monster. He only goes out under cover of darkness.

Christmas holds painful memories so it’s nothing he wants to celebrate. His daylight hours are spent working on the sculpture of an angel holding the hand of a little girl. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do with it when it’s done and he doesn’t care. It’s for himself really.

But a pretty new doctor arrives and she’s not frightened of him. She sees his pain and is determined to help him. She’ll find him something worth living for.

I wrote the first five chapters of this story eight years ago and set it aside when I began writing for Sourcebooks. I ran across it recently and decided to finish and self-publish it. This story of acceptance and compassion needs to be read.

But back to Thurber. In 1886, immigrants flooded in from Italy, Germany, Ireland, and many other countries, all looking for work. The Texas and Pacific Coal Company hired all ages–even boys as young as fourteen. This picture of a group of them isn’t very good but I see the look of despair on their faces and want to cry. Immigrants had it so rough and were taken advantage of at every turn.

Once the coal played out, the company turned to manufacturing brick. They paved half the streets in our growing state a great many of which are still being used today.

I visited Thurber a couple of times only it’s now a ghost town. Nothing much remains except one restaurant called The Smoke Stack. If you’re ever that way, stop in. The food is excellent. My sister and I visited the cemetery and were struck by the sheer number of children’s graves. I’m not sure what happened to them but it was very sad seeing the little lambs on top of the tombstones. Maybe some kind of epidemic would be my guess.

Jericho Cane and Irish doctor Kathleen O’Shea have quite a story to tell and I hope you enjoy it. This sweet romance is $2.99 in Kindle Unlimited and the print book is $9.99.

If you haven’t gotten in the holiday spirit yet, maybe this will do it. I know a good many of you read Christmas books all year and that’s good. I’ll have this available in Audible next month so look for that.

How do you choose which holiday stories to read? Christmas in the title, the cover, the price, or by the author? I’m giving away three ebook copies so don’t forget to leave a comment.

Linda Broday

A New Book, A New Lesson

 

I’m excited for Aiming for His Heart to be released on June 30th. Writing this book, the tenth story in our Pink Pistol Sisterhood series, challenged me in many ways. First, at 40,000 words, it’s the shortest story I’ve written. I hear those who know me well laughing because you know I can’t say hello in less than fifty words. 🙂  In my first writing classes, the instructor asked if I was taking her class on writing tighter. To my I hadn’t decided answer, she responded that I needed to. Despite hard work on that, I struggled 60,000 word Harlequin novels within the overage allowance.

I also had less time to write this story. When I start a book, I count on two things happening. I’ll start in the wrong place, either too far into the story or too far . I’ll take wrong turns. Sure enough. Both happened with Aiming for His Heart. In fact, the wrong turns were so disastrous I pretty much started over once. Maybe twice. While I was proud of writing in the shorter time frame, as a tortoise writing (unlike many of my amazing rabbit speed writing filly sisters), doing so took its toll.

However, the main challenge came from my heroine, Jade. Boy did she and I get into a battle of wills. Okay. I hear you laughing again. Yes, I know I can be stubborn, too. ? Our trouble started during brainstorming. My story ideas almost always start with the hero. In fact, only one hasn’t. But in the Pink Pistol Sisterhood series the heroine receives the pink-handled pistol which plays a key part in the story. This meant the story needed to begin with Jade. Until I learned her backstory, her personality, and what she wanted, I couldn’t move forward. And blast the woman, she wouldn’t let me into her head.

I knew Jade’s mother died when Jade was ten. From then until she went attended college, Jade spent summers and school vacations with her maternal aunt in Oklahoma. There Jade found the love and acceptance she often didn’t receive from her workaholic, distant father and his new family. Jade revealed her past to me, but after that, she shut down. All she revealed was she was returning to Oklahoma to settle her aunt’s estate.

Anyone who’s taken on that task knows how emotionally and physically exhausting it is. Despite putting Jade in stressful situations, she remained distant, almost emotionless. Thankfully, while talking to my dear friend and critique partner, Nancy Haddock, I realized Jade acted that way because she didn’t want to feel anything. She didn’t want to let anyone in. I finally had my key to her character. Jade feared if she felt anything, especially grief, she’d fall apart and never recover. She viewed her emotions as the enemy because when she lost control of them, chaos and disaster followed.

Being a sinister author, I had to break her. But as often happens in my stories, in busting through my character’s defenses and forcing them to face their issues, I make a discovery of my own. I learned I had been at war with my emotions lately. Because I had been feeling too much for lack of better words, I didn’t want to feel anything and had shut down in some ways, too. Forcing Jade to deal with her emotions forced me to grow and deal with mine, too. I guess, not only do I write what I know, sometimes I write about what I need to learn.

GIVEAWAY:  To be entered in my random drawing for cactus tote leave a comment about a challenge that made you grow and what you learned or what new skill you acquired.

 

Instant Attraction? It happens!

A new story. A new series. Book #7 of the Pink Pistol Sisterhood! I’m so excited.

As you know from Karen’s and Shanna’s stories this pink pistol with a legend attached gets passed from book to book. The woman in possession of the pistol can either accept or reject the call. But if she chooses to open her heart to the possibility of love, she will marry the man of her dreams.

I loved the premise of this series when Pam, Karen, Shanna, and Jessie first presented it. And how special that the Fillies could do it as a group. It was a wonderful idea.

My story is about Mariah Bartee, a young woman trying to raise her brother and sister after the deaths of their parents. She’s lived all her life in the Rocky Mountains of northern Colorado. But she dreams of going to the city that’s only thirty miles away. Without a vehicle, it might as well be the moon.

The arrival of a handsome stranger, Dax Nolan, shakes up her small world. He’s a cowboy searching for his little sister who was abducted.

When Mariah glanced up into Dax Talon’s serious brown eyes, she found him staring at her. Something in the manner of his look reminded her of summer lightning—quick with a flash of heat. Flustered, she missed a step and landed on his foot.

An attraction sparks even though she doesn’t trust strangers. Mariah finds herself agreeing to help Dax search for his sister. She warns him of the immense danger then armed with her shotgun, she leads him up the mountain to this family of moonshiners. A tip Dax had gotten told him to find the Tylers and he’d find his sister.

But…Mariah’s siblings found some bones up on the mountain, picked clean by the wild animals. Could they be Dax’s sister’s bones?

Mystery, suspense, and a blossoming romance lead to the satisfying conclusion of the 7th Pink Pistol story.

It’s available for preorder HERE. Karen Witemeyer’s and Shanna Hatfield’s books are already out. Pick them up and start following the Pink Pistol as it travels the country.

The Pink Pistol Sisterhood Series Page

And as you know, we have the FREE Pink Pistol magazines on Book Funnel. We’ve published three with a fourth soon to be available.

   

Link to Magazine 1 – Click Here     Link to Magazine 2 – Click Here     Link to Magazine 3 – Click Here 

Do you believe in instant attraction? I was instantly attracted to my second husband. I was waiting tables in a steakhouse when he came in and sat in my station. Oh man, I thought he was the most handsome, most interesting guy I’d ever met! His deep voice sent tingles through me.

I’m giving away a $10 Amazon gift card to one of my commenters so weigh in.

Waltzing Adds Zest to Life

Spring is here and my heart is dancing along with my feet!

One of the things that always seems to wind up in my stories is dancing. My characters apparently love to dance. Everyone had to work so hard to carve out a life in the 1800s they had little free time. But on occasion, they had dances.

Up until 1814, dancing was confined to the quadrille, cotilion, baroque, and a few others. There was the barest of touching allowed. The fingertips and hand, but only brief touches at that. How in the world they managed to have children was a miracle. But I’m sure when they got in their carriages out of sight things were different. Oh yes, very different.

This was a time when the slightest glimpse of a lady’s ankle was titillating. Yet it’s strange to me that in a lot of pictures of the 1800s, women showed a lot of bosom. Far too much in fact. Kinda weird.

When the waltz came along in 1814, young people were more than ready for it. To dance so close in an “almost” embrace was quite scandalous! My, oh my. The waltz changed the landscape. At last couples could touch more than their hands and it really took off.

It’s a proven fact that I like to two-step and waltz. Sometimes I dance around my apartment just because it makes me feel good.

But back to the subject. In my recent release, Winning Maura’s Heart, I wrote a scene where Calhoun coaxes Maura into his arms. They have no music, only Calhoun humming. But Maura is swept away. Because she is the hangman’s daughter, she’s never been asked to a dance or courted, or even kissed. No man wanted the hangman to look his way.

Calhoun had no such reservations. He didn’t care who her father was. He liked Maura and nothing was going to make him stop. I loved that about him. He found a way to get what he wanted and wouldn’t let anything stop him.

I loved writing their short private dance. Here’s a little excerpt:

Holding her gaze, his dark eyes softening in the dim light, he silently took the pins from her hair. The mass of long tresses cascaded down her back, spilling over his hands like the whisper of a hope. She closed her eyes for a moment, as some strange desire surged through her veins, knocking her off kilter. Before she had time to adjust, he ran his hands through the long strands, murmuring low.

She raised her eyes and stared into his dark orbs that held so much emotion. “Calhoun.”

“Nothing can compare to your loveliness. I mean that. Nothing. You truly take my breath.” He bowed at the waist and extended his hand. “May I have this dance, Miss Maura?”

With his manners and handsome features, he could easily be a charming prince.

Maura’s heart fluttered. “Here? I’ve never danced in my life. Besides, we don’t have any music.”

“I’ll hum a song I know. The dance is simple. Just stand in one spot and sway.”

“Then I have to try.” She fitted her hand in his and placed the other on his shoulder. He didn’t know this fulfilled one of her secret fantasies.

Here with no one to see her make a fool of herself, she took a deep breath and relaxed. He hummed a song with a nice melody and the sound transported her to a ballroom in some castle. She was dancing with one of the most desirable men she’d ever seen.

In his arms, she felt safe and protected. A languid warmth spread through her and she leaned into the cocoon he’d created, resting her head on his shoulder. She swayed back and forth against him, imagining they were in some fancy place.

“See? I knew you could do it,” Calhoun murmured against her temple. “You’re doing fine.”

 

Do you like to dance? Or maybe you once did. Can you remember how it made you feel? Leave a comment to be entered in a drawing for two e-book copies of Winning Maura’s Heart.

Names, Names, Too Many Things to Name

Naming characters, fictionalized towns, ranches, and businesses is a daunting task for me with every story I write. In my current project, Aiming for His Heart, Book 10 in the Pink Pistol Sisterhood Series, (I’m so excited to finally be able to say that!!!) my hero Dalton walks into the town’s main restaurant after an incident makes him become the town’s latest gossip victim. Frustrated, he calls for everyone’s attention to set the record straight. Goodness, I’m still working on naming all the folks in that scene! (Because of course, even the cooks come out to hear this juicy news!) Since he’s grown up in the town, when he enters the restaurant, I can’t refer to someone as the waitress or the bartender because he knows everyone from the owner to the cooks and thinks of them by name. (How on earth do authors of 50 plus books name new characters after creating thousands of characters?!)

Often, I asked for help. Once when my youngest son, Nathan and I were driving from Dallas to Clovis, New Mexico, to visit my oldest son, to stay sane and awake on the long stretch of nothingness road through west Texas, we brainstormed names for businesses for my Wishing Texas Series. That task proved extra daunting because Wishing was known for its wishing well, and all the business chose names that had dreams, wishing, or fit in with that theme.

Because of this and that I write at a certain well known chain coffee shop, Nathan sent me a post he’d seen. It’s from @byalexcrespo and reads, “writing at coffee shops is great bc every time I need to add in a minor side character I just steal the name and essence of whoever is picking up their order from the barista in that moment. Enjoy your cappuccino Isaac you are about to die to advance the plot.” My son then asked if I did that. While I have killed off people before the story opens, like Cassie’s sister and brother-in-law in To Love a Texas Cowboy, I don’t do that in the stories. However, I told my son I would definitely use that technique to name characters from now on.

I’ve also discovered another strategy. Yesterday when I needed a last name for my hero’s best friend’s first love, I scrolled through my contacts on my phone for one. Oooh, my FB friends could also be a good source. Yippee, another strategy! And then I realized yet another one. You wonderful readers! But don’t panic. Since you’re all so sweet and wonderful, I’d never give a grumpy character part of your name. ? But you’re warned. Don’t be surprised if your first or last name shows up in one of my books.

Giveaway:  To be entered in my two random giveaways this month, tell me what’s the craziest, funniest, or most confusing business or town name you’ve heard of.  If you haven’t heard of anything with a crazy name, what’s the wildest one you can think of for a town or business? And don’t forget to tell me what the business is or does. 

 

 

One Good Ride…

What would you do if the doctor gave you two years to live?

Ponder that question a moment and then meet Mesannie Wilkins. The Maine native is famous for a 7000-mile journey on horseback.

Seven. Thousand. Miles.

Mesannie was born in the 1890s and grew up on a small farm without electricity or running water. Of necessity, she rode a mule to her job at a shoe factory. A few snickering neighbors named her Jackass Annie due to the mode of transportation.

By all accounts, Mesannie was a kind woman but it seems the town looked down on her because she was poor, poorly educated, and very independent. She was not a woman to bow to cultural norms, either, as evidenced by the fact that she preferred wearing dungarees to dresses. Maybe this independent streak contributed to two failed marriages–more fodder for the rumor mill.

In 1954, Mesannie saw the passing of her last living relative–her uncle. On the heels of this tragedy, she was diagnosed with tuberculosis and given two years to live. In a dark place emotionally, she sat down and prayed about her future because her past sure hadn’t delivered much to crow about.

No family. Two ex-husbands. No children. A dead-end job. A ramshackle home. And death waiting in the wings.

The more she thought about dying, the more she wanted to make what life she had left count. Her mother had always wanted to see the Pacific Ocean and the seed of an idea sprouted in Mesannie’s head. After much wrestling in prayer, she decided to take a journey.

She mortgaged her home, bought two horses–Tarzan and Rex, gathered up her dog, Depeche Toi, and purchased as many supplies as she and the animals could carry. On November 6, 1954, Mesannie stepped into the saddle and rode South, leaving her hometown of Minot. She had no map. She’d never been outside of Maine. She did have, however, an unswerving belief in the kindness of strangers.

They didn’t let her down.

As word spread of Mesannie’s journey, newspapers picked up the story, spreading her fame. Towns turned out to greet her and celebrities reached out to her. A gas station in Kentucky offered her a job to supplement her meager cash. A horse stable in New Jersey offered her a permanent home. Several municipalities let her spend the night in their jails. Some businesses comped her free stays in hotels.

Mesannie trudged into Wyoming just in time for Cheyenne Frontier Days where she received a marriage proposal from a lonely rancher. Given her past successes in that arena, however, she thanked him and moved on.

She arrived in California in December 1955. Inadvertently, Mesannie’s journey across America had shown the best of the nation. In an era when auto ownership had tripled, television had begun invading our homes, and life was moving faster than ever, kindness and generosity still ran in our veins.

In California, her pack horse Rex died. Art Linkletter bought her a replacement. She rode around the state for several months, enjoying the weather and the attention of stars like Groucho Marx. Feeling great for a woman with a terminal diagnosis, she absorbed the sunshine and smiles, and then made her way back to Maine.

Mesannie lived to be 88.

The thing I take away from this amazing woman’s story is you are never too old for an adventure. You’re never too old to do something amazing. Do you agree? Would you ever take on something like this alone? Where would you go?

It is women like Mesannie who inspired my heroine Priscilla in A Scout for Skyler. Comment and you could win one of two paperbacks I’m giving away. Thank you for reading

AMAZON

Winning Maura’s Heart and a Giveaway!

“I lie awake and wonder what it might be like to kiss a man, to feel his arms holding me.”

At almost thirty, Maura Taggart had never been courted, been to a dance, or known a kiss. She’s lived the life of an outcast with her sister Emma due to their father’s profession as a hangman.

After tending the sick during a yellow fever epidemic, townsfolk run them out of town again but not before cutting Emma’s hair. Also unwanted are the orphans left behind when their parents died. Determined to make something worthwhile of their lives, to matter to someone, they take the orphans with them and open an orphanage in an abandoned Spanish mission.

The children name it Heaven’s Door because they believe there is a doorway from the orphanage to heaven and their parents watch over them.

Maura discovers a man near death and they take him in, unsure if he’s an outlaw or lawman. When the mysterious stranger can speak, he says his name is Calhoun, refusing to give more.

The time spent tending him draws Maura closer to him. The soft-spoken man has kind ways and loves the little orphans.

With a gentle finger, Calhoun lifted a strand of hair from her eyes. “Try to find someone else. There are hundreds of men better than me. I’m no good for you. Don’t you see? It’s better this way.”

Who is Calhoun? Who shot him? Maura tries to figure it out while keeping her heart locked. She has to keep the children safe and she knows he’s brought trouble to their door.

While writing this story, I did a lot of research and I found that not only were old West hangmen unwelcome once their job was done, but also their families. No one wanted them to live amongst them. Folks were quick to call for the hangman but once he’d dispensed of an outlaw, they wanted him gone.

In the old movies, he’s always alone. Rides in, doesn’t speak to anyone much, does his job and he rides away. I always wondered about their families. In the movies, they were never mentioned.

Even today, there is a certain distaste and even hate for those who carry out capital punishment. For that reason, the executioner is always hidden. We don’t have a name or anything.

I wrote Winning Maura’s Heart in the vein of the story Sommersby where the mystery of Richard Gere’s character is kept hidden. In my story, the identity of Calhoun isn’t revealed until the end but it draws speculation throughout the story.

Is he an outlaw or lawman?

This is a sweet romance and releases on March 7th. Click HERE for an excerpt!

Do you like stories where things aren’t straightforward? Or where certain characters’ true identities aren’t revealed until the very last? I’m giving away an autographed hardback to one person who comments.

* * * * *

Also, I have a Goodreads Giveaway going on with 50 copies of the book up for grabs! Click HERE to Enter!

 

Thank you for coming.

The British Are Coming and a Give Away!

The Old West remains an iconic part of our history, conjuring up images of cowboys, saloons, and horse thieves. And then the British aristocracy showed up …

But why? Well, The Union Pacific railroad stretched to Fremont, NE by 1865. Construction continued, and by mid-1867 it reached Cheyenne and joined the Central Pacific in Promontory in 1869, connecting the East and West coasts of the US. Cheyenne became the hub for all those railroad workers, and all of them had to be fed. The wintry grasses proved to be exceptional fodder for the ranchers’ cattle, and they quickly realized they could make a successful business in that region. When the railroad took the cattle east to the markets, that set the stage for Wyoming to become a major cattle ranching area. Then, in 1880, the steamer Strathleven embarked on a voyage with a new kind of cargo: meat preserved with mechanical refrigeration. This was the first time British people had ever encountered the process of ranching. And some were hooked.

Can you imagine an earl or baron chasing after cattle? Well, they did, and some were part of the Wyoming cattle industry from about 1867 to 1887. Though their stint as cowboys was fleeting, their imprint on the area left a lasting impression. It’s one of the reasons I have two fictional towns with British residents. One town, Clear Creek, has a huge cattle ranch nearby owned by a British family, the Cookes. And my newest series, Love in Apple Blossom, also has some British residents. The result of six brothers on holiday in America who happen upon the little town. An entire posse was killed by an outlaw gang and some of the women had to step up to take on their father’s, brother’s, or husband’s roles. Being gentlemen, the brothers stay to help a few of them out before returning to England.

But what, other than the lure of ranching and cowboy adventures, brought the British to America? Well, in short, the British gentleman was passionate about hunting. This was one of the things that drew them to America in the first place. They wanted adventure, excitement, and America had plenty of it. There was nothing like the thrill of a good hunt (weeks and sometimes months’ worth) to bring the English aristocracy to America. But there were other reasons some came, and it wasn’t to chase after elk or bear.

Desperate to escape the freezing grasp of the British Isles, some ventured to the Wild West in search of new health. Others, like Oliver Henry Wallop, scion of an earl, saw the need for a cavalry in the Boer War and set off to Wyoming. He partnered with Malcolm Moncrieffe, progeny of a Scottish baronet, and ran an enourmous 2700-acre ranch that brought the first thoroughbreds to the Western front. In Colorado, another British earl established a ranch and resort not far from Estes Park; a sprawling reminder of his former glory from across the pond. My British family in my fictional town of Clear Creek traveled West to Oregon not for their health, but to start a cattle ranch and ended up as pig farmers. Things obviously didn’t go as planned, but in the end, they fulfilled their dream.

On the other hand, there were some Britannic settlers in America that soon found themselves in a grueling struggle to make a living on the ranches. Cattle needed to be tended to and branded, while horses had to be fed and groomed. There were also everyday ranch chores and other work and dash it all, no servants to help. Even worse, some ranches were a hundred miles or more away from the nearest train station. Rain turned dirt roads into mud pits in summer and unpredictable snowstorms in winter. Both made travel hazardous. Is it any wonder so many high-tailed it back to England?

Thankfully, the Cooke family didn’t, and have appeared in numerous book series of mine and in not only my other pen name’s books, but other author’s books as well. I have a book on the British aristocracy holidaying in America in the 1800s, which was one of the things that inspired me to create a British family in the old west years ago. The rest is history!

Do you like reading about characters from other countries settling in the old west? I’m giving away one free e-copy of my latest release, Wooing the Undertaker, Love in Apple Blossom, Book 4 to one commenter. Here’s a little more about the book:

A Lonely Undertaker
A Man Determined to Go Home
And One Little Library …

After her father was killed by outlaws, Jean Campbell was forced to take on the role of undertaker. Like so many other women in Apple Blossom, she did what had to be done after a devastating tragedy took the lives of an entire posse. But months later, things were becoming hard, and she wasn’t sure what to do. And that’s when theycame to town. Six English brothers who took it upon themselves to help those in need. And so far, three of the brothers had found love. But Jean knew that wasn’t about to happen to her. After all, who wanted to woo an undertaker?

Wallis Darling wasn’t looking for love. He was looking for a way to back to England and with as many of his brothers as possible. Problem was, three were already planning on marrying, and two of them had decided to stay. If Wallis’ older brother Phileas fell in love and stayed on, their father’s dreaded title and estate would fall to him! The thought made him shudder. He liked his freedom and had to make sure his older brother didn’t come under love’s spell. But how? Then he got an idea. What if Phileas thought Wallis was in love? Would he hightail it back to England to do his duty? Wallis hoped so. Now all he had to do was find someone willing to fake a courtship. And then of course, talk her into it.

AMAZON