new release

Cowboys & Mistletoe – Jill Kemerer

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Whee! Christmas is almost here, and I’m loving all these Cowboys & Mistletoe posts! I, too, have a Christmas book out now. THE COWBOY’S CHRISTMAS TREASURES is the fourth book in my Wyoming Legacies series with Love Inspired. Think a cowboy with a painful past, a single-mom heroine trying to raise toddler identical twin girls, and a small-town in Wyoming full of the Christmas feels!

Book cover: Snowy background with red barn, cowboy, twin toddlers in matching red coats and pompom stocking hats. Text "The Cowboy's Christmas Treasures by Jill Kemerer"

Making peace with his past…
To be a part of their future

After his father’s heart attack, ranch hand Dean McCaffrey has no choice but to temporarily take over the family business—while hiding a shameful secret. But he doesn’t expect to fall for pretty widow Brooke Dewitt and her twin toddlers while remodeling their house. Brooke is counting on Dean to make her home wheelchair-accessible by Christmas. And soon she’s dreaming of a life with the handsome cowboy. But with both their futures uncertain, can they overcome their fears…and place their trust in love?

Purchase THE COWBOY’S CHRISTMAS TREASURES here!

 

 

Provide your best caption for the picture below – humorous, thoughtful or poignant – to be entered in the drawing.

All entries will be eligible for our oh-so-beautiful Grand Prize, too!

Winners announced Sunday, December 15!

(USA winners only, please.)

 

The Family Dinner Feeling: Guest Lacy Williams

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Watercolor mountains and trees. Text "New Book & Giveaway, Guest Blogger Lacy Williams, Petticoats & Pistols"

We’re excited to welcome Lacy Williams to the corral! She’s discussing her new release and has a giveaway for you!

“Are we fishing with marshmallows?”

“Did you hear Aunt Linda had to go to the doctor again?”

“Blood pressure?”

“My catfish was so big it broke the line–it was the granddaddy of the one Gramps caught!”

“Can we play cards yet?”

Lacy Williams

Hello! Lacy Williams here today to chat and I’ve just brought you a real-life conversation from around our dinner table when extended family gets together. (Names changed to protect the innocent).

I absolutely love big family get togethers. When I was a kid, there might be one Sunday lunch a month, or Thanksgiving, or “just because”–I loved the time together with my cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents and great-grandma and great aunt. I can barely remember gathering around a big ping pong table that was brought in so everyone would have a place to eat. Later, we changed to TV tables and criss-cross applesauce on the floor just so we could fit everyone in.

And the conversation usually goes about like what I’ve written above. Catching up with someone we haven’t seen in a while, news we haven’t heard yet. My youngest daughter is a nature lover and so is my grandpa (my only grand still living). They will chat about birdwatching or dogs or other animal stuff and it’s adorable.

And sometimes it’s difficult keeping track of the multiple conversations that start winding around the table! This family dinner feeling is something I tried to capture in my new release, A CONVENIENT HEART. The catch is, my bookish hero Jack is an orphan. Now an adult, but from a very broken family situation. He can’t remember a time when he sat down for family dinner.

Until it happens when my heroine’s extended family descends on the two of them. It was a fun scene to write and I loved capturing this confident man feeling very out of his element in this scene. I’ve shared it below if you’d like to read it.

Blue and silver ripples. Book cover A Convenient Heart by Lacy Williams. Text "Book One Wind River Mail-Order Brides"

Merritt had abandoned him.

At least, she’d excused herself to the kitchen to cook supper. He’d heard the clank of pans, the crackle of kindling taking hold in the stove. The two girls had gone with her. David and Nick had gone to settle the horses and wagon at the livery for the night.

Which left Jack in the room with her cousins Drew and Ed.

“Where did you say you were from?”

Drew had asked the question, but Ed’s intense gaze was a mirror of his brother’s.

“Here and there.” Jack still didn’t know what John-the-groom had written in his letters, didn’t know how much Merritt had told her cousins about her potential groom.

“What happened to your hat? Hey, Merry,” Drew called into the kitchen, “I’m not sure I can trust a guy without a hat!”

“Lost it,” Jack said cheerfully. “How far’s your ranch?”

It must be pretty far if they were staying the night in town. The oldest brother had mentioned staying in the bunkhouse of a rancher nearby. The girls would stay the night here with Merritt.

Drew stared at him.

It was Ed that answered. “About half a day’s ride.”

“How many cattle you run?”

If he could keep the conversation focused on the brothers, it’d make everything simpler.

“Almost a hundred head,” Drew answered. “You got family back home?”

Jack sat down on the sofa, crossing one ankle over his knee. “No family. Why do you want to know?”

Drew’s eyes narrowed. “Wondering whether you’re going to try to take Merritt away from her family.”

They’ll be your family in a few days. Merritt’s words from moments ago whispered through his mind.

They wouldn’t. He knew it.

And it seemed Drew wasn’t too keen on the idea of this match.

Merritt appeared in the kitchen doorway. The scent of frying ham had his mouth watering. The sounds of something sizzling on the stove were muted, as were the girls’ voices behind her.

“We’ll be staying in Calvin long enough for me to finish the school year,” she told her cousin primly. “Not that it’s your business.”

She set several tin coffee mugs on the table with a clank. The pot followed with a heavier clunk.

“You can pour, Ed,” she said. She pointed a finger at Drew. “Be nice.”

There’d been a flurry of introductions outside, and the young girl he thought was named Tillie skipped into the room, carrying a glass of milk. There’d been no mention of a mother. Was Drew widowed? Jack’s curiosity was piqued, despite knowing he should ignore those thoughts.

“What’re you doing, peanut?” Drew asked as she skirted him and then came to sit right next to Jack on the sofa.

“Merry asked me to come rescue Mr. Jack.” She took a sip of her milk and set her cup on the table too. She had a small milk mustache across her upper lip, and it made her look innocent somehow.

He felt another kick in his stomach. Had Dewey ever been as innocent as this girl seemed?

Her leg swung where her foot didn’t touch the floor. “What d’you need rescuin’ for, Mr. Jack?”

He glanced up to where Ed had turned his smile into his shoulder and Drew was staring at him. “I reckon I don’t.”

She tipped her head to one side. “Then how come Merry thinks so? She’s real smart, ya know? If she says you need rescuin’, ya prob’ly do.”

She said the words with such earnestness that he couldn’t argue. But Merritt was wrong. He didn’t need rescuing from these men. He could hold his own at a card table with men more dangerous than these. Men with loaded weapons in their laps. He wouldn’t be afraid of her family.

Tillie pointed toward a small pile of brown-wrapped packages in one corner of the room, half hidden behind the edge of the sofa. He hadn’t noticed them until now.

“Those’re our Christmas presents.” Tillie whispered so loudly that the sound carried across the room. “Merry always gets me a book, but this year I’m hopin’ for a dolly.”

His lips twitched with the urge to smile. “You’ll be as smart as your cousin if you read lots of books,” he said.

Nick and David stomped inside, complaining that the wind was turning colder. The added bodies and noise turned the attention off Jack and filled the room fair to bursting.

Soon enough, Jack found himself seated at the round table in one corner of Merritt’s kitchen, surrounded by the children, his knee pressed against Merritt’s.

“How come you haven’t decorated for Christmas?” Tillie asked, her mouth full.

“I supposed I haven’t had time this year,” Merritt said with a furtive glance at Jack. “I’ve been extra busy with the pageant.”

The family camaraderie was evident when Tillie spilled her cup of milk and David helped her mop it up. Jo rolled her eyes, but he also saw the girl sneak a piece of her biscuit onto Tillie’s plate when the girl complained of still being hungry.

Drew and Nick ribbed Ed about the wooden top he’d promised to craft his nephew for Christmas and promptly forgotten about.

Merritt was teased for keeping her mail-order beau a secret, but she took it with good-natured laughter, nudging his boot with her shoe beneath the table.

Jack knew every move to make at the poker table. How to present himself, how to hold his cards and arrange his chips to let his confidence shine through.

But in the middle of a family supper like this…he was completely out of his element…

 

What about you? Do you have a favorite memory of a big (or small) family dinner? Share in the comments and you’ll be entered to win a $15 Amazon gift card and a paperback copy of A Convenient Heart . These are to one winner.

Thanks for hanging out with me today!

-Lacy

 

Blue and silver ripples. Book cover A Convenient Heart by Lacy Williams. Text "Book One Wind River Mail-Order Brides"

ABOUT LACY’S NEW RELEASE:

Spinster schoolmarm Merritt Harding is done waiting for the future she’s always wanted. Which is why she answered a mail-order bride ad and is anticipating her groom’s arrival on the eve of Christmas. She’s about to get everything she’s dreamed of…

Except the Jack who steps off the train can’t be the same man who wrote her letters. That Jack was a steady, mild-mannered businessman. This Jack is an enigma with flashing eyes and a pirate’s smile. He’s too charming, too keen, too perfect to be real.

And too secretive. What exactly is he hiding?

Jack wasn’t looking for a bride, only an escape from the danger chasing him. But the longer he stays in the small Wyoming town, the more he wants to stay. How can he, when his intended doesn’t even know his real name?

 

This sweet historical romance is perfect for fans of the following tropes:

*Spinster schoolmarm

*Marriage of convenience

*Mistaken identity

*Swashbuckling hero

A Convenient Heart is available now!

PURCHASE A CONVENIENT HEART HERE!!

Courting the Country Preacher: What does traditional publishing look like to an Indie Author?

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Burlap background with pumpkins and leaves at side. Cover of Courting the Country Preacher. Text, "What does Traditional Publishing Look Like to an Indie Author? Guest post by Kari Trumbo, Petticoats & Pistols"

Hello everyone! It’s so good to be back in the stable temporarily. I’ve missed you all.

Karen asked me shortly after I stepped away if I wanted to blog at all in the coming year. At that time, I knew I had this release coming out (that’s one good thing about traditional publishing, I know WELL in advance of a release) that I had this book coming!

This is a book that I’d been talking about for a long time and finally, my friend Carolyn Miller contacted me and basically said, “let’s stop just talking about this and find two other authors to do it.” I had the time in my schedule (weird, I know) and I was excited.

It took a little while to find two other authors who also had time in their schedules (more normal people, lol) but then the discussion really started. We decided this would be historical and we like the idea and the tension of a bachelor country preacher finding love either by the push of his congregation, one member, or by the woman herself. It was really fun bouncing ideas around.

 

Coffee, laptop, and hand writing on paper with image of book cover by Kari Trumbo

 

Since I was the only author who hadn’t yet published with Barbour, I had to write my first chapter to submit with the proposal. So, not only did I have to write a one page synopsis of the story, I had to have a nearly perfect, compelling chapter one. I was worried that if my chapter didn’t do it, I could blow the whole project for everyone else.

It took six months to hear back from my agent that we had gotten the contract. In that time, I’d written four indie books. I could barely remember what I’d plotted. Thankfully, I kept good notes. Since I’m a fast writer, I wrote that 30,000 word story in four days (minus the first chapter, which was already done). Then, unlike when I indie, I let it sit. It wasn’t due back to the publisher for six months, so I wanted to return to it and not remember what I’d written when it came time for a read-through.

 

Hand with watch

 

A few months later, we got the mockup for the cover. I already knew that I wouldn’t really be all that involved in the cover creation process, but Barbour did allow us to make suggestions (the church in the background didn’t have a steeple at first). But it was so lovely, I had no real changes to suggest. I’ve been blessed to have two amazing covers for my traditional books.

 

Cover of Courting the Country Preacher by Kari Trumbo. Woman wearing tan dress from late 1800s and man wearing country hat with church in background

 

It was due in February, so in January, I opened the document and did some deep editing. I wanted it to shine for the editorial team so they would like me and hopefully take future work from me. In the end, my editor loved the story. One funny thing I wasn’t expecting was four rounds of edits in a week and a half. I expect that from indie, but I always expect traditional publishing to be slow. In my case, it was not. I was exhausted after those ten days.

I didn’t receive the galley copy (the final read through copy) for a few months after the editing stage. That was a wow moment for me because they do it differently from Harlequin. You literally get to see the fun fleuron (graphic separating a scene) and the chapter header images. Barbour did such a beautiful job. I was blown away.

I printed out my section, did my final read through and sent it back, knowing the next time I would see it would be when it came to me in a box of books from the publisher. As of writing this blog, I haven’t gotten my author copies yet.

I WISH I could describe to you what that is like. I’ve only experienced it with Harlequin. When that box is sitting there and you know what’s in it, something wells up inside you. It isn’t pride, it isn’t joy, it’s more pure than either of those. You’ve done something God asked you to do and in that box is the proof. I cried like a baby the first time I opened one of those boxes and I’m not too proud to say so.

By the time you read this (I wrote this in early September after seeing Karen, Winnie, and Mary at the ACFW conference in New Orleans) I should have my author copies of the book. I would LOVE to offer a signed copy to one commenter (in the US or Canada only, please) outside of those areas, I’ll buy an eBook copy for you and send that. I apologize in advance. I know that’s unfair.

Here is the back cover copy, so you’ll know if you want to enter:

Every Preacher Needs a Wife, Right?

Being a preacher in the countryside is not for the faint of heart nor faith. Four inexperienced preachers face a myriad of challenges including those who figure a man of the cloth needs a wife. Can they meet the expectations of “helpful” congregants and be true to their hearts?

The Mountie’s Rival by Angela K Couch
Canada, 1907 — Tired of living in his twin’s shadow, Jonathan Burton is frustrated to find himself serving as a still wet-behind-the-ears preacher in the same community as his Mountie brother. How is he to find a wife when all the eligible women of the community seem enamored by his dashing brother in scarlet uniform?

Convincing the Circuit Preacher by Carolyn Miller
Australia, 1863 — As soon as Dorothea Maclean saw the country preacher, she knew Mr. Hammill was the man of her dreams. Now she just needs to convince her wealthy parents—and Mr. Hammill.

The Angel and the Sky Pilot by Naomi Musch
Minnesota, 1905 — A preacher with a checkered past sets off to win souls in the lumber camps like the “sky pilots” before him. But can he earn the respect of hard-living men—and still respect himself—after a local trader’s daughter joins the all-male congregation?

Mail Order Minister by Kari Trumbo
South Dakota, 1889 — Olive’s parents mail-ordered a preacher and prayed he’d be a husband for their daughter. The rest of the town—and Olive—have other ideas.

Purchase Courting the Country Preacher

To enter the drawing, tell me what you love most about your preacher or minister.

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Kari Trumbo is an international bestselling author of historical and contemporary Christian romance and romantic suspense.

She loves reading, listening to contemporary Christian music, singing when no one’s listening, and curling up near the wood stove when winter hits.

She makes her home in central Minnesota—where the trees and lakes are plentiful—with her husband of over twenty years, two daughters, two sons, a few cats, and a bunny who’s the star of one of her books.

 

Tomorrow’s a Big Day!

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I have two big book events happening tomorrow.

1. My Christmas short story My True Love Gave to Me is releasing. Yippee!

I had so much fun giving the classic Twelve Days of Christmas carol a romantic Texas twist. I thought you might enjoy a sneak peek at how our hero gives these gifts his own cowboy spin.

Her mother must have seen them coming, for she threw open the back door and waved them in. “Come in and warm yourself by the stove,” she urged. As Anna slipped past, her mother touched her arm and stalled her progress. “A gift arrived for you.” Her eyes danced, setting off a similar gyration in Anna’s belly. “Your father’s grumbling about it in the front room.”

If he was grumbling, it had to be from Simeon. Without pausing to remove her coat, Anna abandoned the kitchen and hurried to the front room. She found her father bent at the waist, staring at what looked to be a cactus in a pot on the slender table behind the sofa.

“Daddy?”

He straightened and turned abruptly. “I tell you, Anna. That boy has lost his mind. Who in the world sends a cactus as a courting gift? And there’s a bullet hanging from the center of the thing. What is that supposed to signify? Is it some kind of threat?”

“Of course it’s not a threat.” Though it was rather odd. What are you up to, Simeon? Anna approached the table and found an envelope, thankfully still unopened, with her name written across the front in an unrefined scrawl she recognized instantly.

“Tell me, Herald,” her father said, alerting Anna to her growing audience, “is that not the most ridiculous bouquet you’ve ever seen? If you can even call it a bouquet. Next to your roses, it looks like a bulbous weed.”

“It is rather . . . unconventional.”

Herald’s voice faded from Anna’s awareness as she opened Simeon’s note. There were only two lines, but they made her heart pound.

To Anna, on the first day of Christmas.

From Your True Love

On the first day of Christmas. Why did that phrase sound so familiar? Then it came to her. A children’s counting song. On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me . . .

She turned back to the gift and looked at it with new eyes. Saw the reddish-purple bulb of prickly fruit. Looked closer at the bullet tied on with a string. It wasn’t ammunition for a pistol. The casing was longer. Like that for a rifle.

“Daddy?” she asked without turning.

He broke off his conversation. “Yes?”

She drew her finger along the line of the metal cylinder. “What do you call a bullet that goes into a rifle?”

He scratched at his jaw. “A cartridge. But what does that have to do with—” He broke off when she started laughing.

She spun around to face him, a smile beaming across her face as she held Simeon’s note to her breast. “Oh, Daddy. Don’t you see? It’s a gift of true love.”

He scowled. “Are you feeling all right, Anna?”

“I feel marvelous!” She waltzed up to him and handed over the note for him to inspect.

He read the note, grumbled, then passed it to Herald. She should be angry that he would share her personal correspondence without her permission, but she was too delighted with Simeon’s cleverness to take him to task.

“Why are you so happy?” her father demanded. “This has to be the least romantic gift of all time. It’s a half-dead cactus covered with barbs and a random bullet.”

“No, Daddy,” she said, her heart awash with love. “It’s a cartridge in a prickly pear tree.”

Today is the last day to pre-order. If you do, the story will show up on your Kindle bright and early tomorrow morning. Just like Christmas!

The story is only 99¢ to purchase, though it will be available in KU as well.

Pre-Order Here

Anna King has pledged her heart to Simeon Shepherd, but her father refuses to grant her hand to the young farmer. Simeon determines to be patient and earn David King’s respect over time with hard work and evidence of his ability to provide. However, when a wealthy new suitor arrives in Bethlehem, Texas to woo Anna with her father’s support, patience is no longer an option. Simeon has twelve days before Christmas to best his rival and prove once and for all that he is Anna’s true love.

2. In Her Sights has been selected for a Kindle Daily Deal – also tomorrow.

For one day only, you can purchase Tessa and Jackson’s story for only $1.49. WooHoo!

If you haven’t read the Pink Pistol Sisterhood Series yet, now’s the time to start with Book 1 going on sale tomorrow. Find it here on Amazon.

What is something fun or special coming up on the calendar in your life this week?

Jeannie Watt New Release and Give Away!

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I’m pleased to announce the release of my latest story, A Sweet Montana Christmas, which is the second book in my Cowgirls of Larkspur Valley series. To celebtrate, I’m giving away two $15 Amazon gift cards. 🙂

Bridal shop owner Maddie Kincaid used to believe in happy endings. After being jilted weeks before her wedding, she retreats to a friend’s guest ranch and runs into her old coworker, ex–bronc rider Sean Arteaga. While planning the ranch’s Christmas open house together, Maddie starts falling for him…until Sean’s attempt to protect her backfires. Can Maddie find a way to forgive him and finally get her own fairy-tale ending?

Here’s an excerpt:

Maddie slowed, squinting through the snow as she approached the guest ranch lodge, where Max and his family lived in the south wing, the north wing serving as VIP guest rooms. In addition to those rooms, there were six guest cottages and an old-fashioned bunkhouse that served as spillover lodging. The unique round barn on the property served as a wedding venue, which was how Maddie had maintained ties with the Tidwell family. She was not a wedding coordinator per se, but she’d gone the extra mile for clients, sometimes providing last-minute fitting and alterations.

By habit Maddie turned toward the vendor parking area behind the barn, then jerked the steering wheel to the left when a figure appeared out of the snow in front of her.

A cry escaped her lips as the utility trailer she towed took offense at the sudden turn and slid sideways in the wet snow, jolting the truck. Heart pounding, she released her death grip on the steering wheel after the truck came to a stop. A second later she was out of the truck, the wet snow pelting her face.

“Didn’t you see me?” a male voice demanded before she could ask if he was all right.

The voice was familiar, yet not. Definitely not one of the Tidwells, but Maddie couldn’t see the man’s face with the light coming from behind him, turning him into a dark silhouette.

“Obviously not since I don’t try to hit people with my truck on purpose. Didn’t you see me coming?”

“I did, but my escape options were limited.” Maddie frowned, and realized he could see her face, because the man’s tone shifted as he said, “Maddie Kincaid.”

It was a statement. One that tightened her gut as she realized why she knew the voice. She knew it because they’d worked together on this very ranch.

“You,” she said simply. Sean Arteaga. The man who’d shaken her world , and not in a good way.

“Me,” he replied. He was standing oddly, and she noticed that he had a cane in one hand. He followed her gaze. “It helps me get around.”

She didn’t know how to take the simple statement, so she reiterated, hoping for more of an explanation. “You need help getting around?”

“Yes.”

Maddie wiped the snow off her face, then wiped the moisture on her jeans, which were also getting damp. She only had forty zillion questions, the main one being, Why are you here?

She asked it out loud.

“I’m here to help out Max while he’s in Mexico.”

“So am I.” A thought hit her. “Are you going to Mexico with him?”

“I’m staying here.”

Numbness was becoming a familiar feeling. This was nothing like the cold shock of learning that Cody was calling it quits, but it wasn’t a pleasant sensation either. Maddie moistened her lips. “As am I.”

“No kidding.”

“I wouldn’t kid about that in a snowstorm after almost doing you in.” She looked him up and down, then said, “I thought I’d be alone here.”

It sounded like an accusation. Maybe it was. Why was he here horning in on her alone time?

“Join the club,” he muttered, sounding no happier about the circumstances than she was.

“Hey!”

They turned together toward the lodge where Dillon Tidwell stood hugging himself. The teen was barely visible through the falling snow.

“Dad wants to know if you’re going to stand in the snow or come in where it’s warm?”

“We’re coming,” Sean answered for both of them. Kind of a habit of his from the past.

Maddie forced herself to lower her hackles and a second later, she also forced herself to slow her steps when it became apparent that Sean was dealing with a serious limp. No wonder he wasn’t able to get out of the way of the truck.

“Don’t wait for me,” he all but growled.

Maddie glanced at him, and somehow managed to keep her mouth from falling open as the pole lamp he walked under illuminated the angry Y-shaped scar, the long arm of which traced a path from his temple to his jaw, .

“You’re not pretty anymore.” The words were blurted out before she could stop them. Sean Arteaga had been a gorgeous guy, confident, charming, overbearing, a touch judgy—at least where Maddie had been concerned.

Her heart rate ramped up as Sean came to a stop and slowly looked her way, a frown bringing his dark eyebrows together. “You’ve changed, too.”

“Life,” she said, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut.

He nodded, and without another word began limping toward the lodge. Maddie watched for a moment, wondering if it had been a car wreck or rodeo wreck that had put him in this condition.

Actually, it didn’t matter. What did matter was that it appeared that they were both staying at the Lucky Creek Guest Ranch, which meant that Maddie was going to have to find a new hideaway. She was not sharing the holidays with Sean Arteaga.

I hope you enjoyed the excerpt. In order to be considered for the drawing, just give me a quick hello from wherever you are. I have to be offline today due to a relative’s surgery , but I’ll be checking in when I can and I’m so curious as to where everyone is from. I’ll choose two winners who will receive $15 Amazon gift cards on Saturday, September 30. Thanks for dropping in today!

 

 

Homesteads. Grandmothers, and a Give Away

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My latest book, Cowboy Meets Cowgirl  features a homestead house on the family ranch, which the heroine wants to renovate. The house in the story has four-rooms—a kitchen, living room, bedroom and a bathroom that was added on in the 1940s. Most homestead houses, however, were not that grand.

This is a photo of my great grandmother, Lillie Belle Howland, in front of her homestead house with two of her children. She had thirteen children total, ten of whom lived, and I’m sure that several of them were born in this house. She told my mother stories about giving birth alone, which boggles my modern mind, but I’m certain that she had many homestead “sisters” who were equally amazing.

The Homestead Act of 1862 created a means by which hardworking people, men or women, could claim 160 acres of land. The settler had to be over 21 years of age, settle on the land, improve the land (farm) and then file for the deed after five years of residency. That was where the rub came in. Residency. In order for that to happen, at least one of the settlers had to be physically present on the land. In my great-grandmother’s case, she stayed while my great-grandfather worked in mines far away from the homestead to provide the money needed to keep the farm running. I do not know who did the actual farming, but I imagine that my great grandfather came back to the homestead to handle the farming chores, then headed back to wherever he was working. Meanwhile, Lillie Belle raised children and did the hard work involved in building a household in the middle of nowhere.

I’m happy to say that Grandma Lillie lived to be 103 years old and had several great-great-grandchildren, including my daughter. She was a devout Christian Scientist, sweet, unassuming and humble. Upon meeting her, one would never dream that she’d held down the homestead singlehandedly in the middle of a prairie.

When I wrote about my “fancy” homestead house with three rooms, I thought a lot about Grandma Lillie. She will always be one of my greatest inspirations.

My question, for a $10 Amazon gift certificate, is who in your family has inspired you?

Cowboy Meets Cowgirl

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My next release, Cowboy Meets Cowgirl, comes out in May and I’m excited about the third book in my Return to the Keller Ranch series. Set in Montana, it’s the story of four siblings who eventually find their way back home. This is the story of Em, the only girl in a family of rambunctious boys. She’s also a twin and the youngest, so she’s had to prove herself over and over again. Because of that, she’s a feisty woman.

In this scene, she’s returning to the family ranch during a work hiatus and she plans to renovate the old homestead house. The problem is finding a contractor, because the only available firm is owned by a guy who once fired her and there is no way that she’s working with him.

“Colton!” Trace Montero shifted his grip on the sheets of reclaimed teak paneling that he’d foolishly tried to unload alone. He’d been doing fine until his foot slipped in the mud created by the recent storm. Gritting his teeth, he pushed and managed to shift enough of the load back onto the tarp-covered truck bed to avoid dropping it into the puddle at his feet, but he was still on the heavy end and couldn’t get traction.

“Colt!” he bellowed.

“Do you need a hand?” The unexpected feminine voice startled the hell out of him, and he almost lost his grip.

“I’m good,” he grunted, trying again for some traction.

“You’re not.”

As he fought to regain his balance, the mystery woman shouldered past him to take hold of the heavy panels. Together, they shifted the load back where it belonged.

“Thank you.” Trace stepped back, feeling self-conscious at being rescued by a stranger. The feeling evaporated when he recognized Em Keller. 

Talk about a blast from the past. And not a good one.

“Well, well,” Em said in a low voice. Her eyes, which were remarkably close to the color of the clouds that hung low over Copper Mountain, narrowed in a no-nonsense way, but before she got beyond pleasantries, Trace jerked his head in the direction of the truck. “I need to get this paneling under a roof. It’s expensive.”

He also needed a minute to figure out how to tackle the situation. Phil, his partner, wasn’t from Marietta, so when he’d asked Trace to cover for him in a client meeting, he’d had no way of knowing that the client, now staring at Trace with thinly veiled animosity, wouldn’t be a client for long if she met with Trace. Or that Trace wasn’t particularly interested in working with her.

Em took a step back as wet spots began to form on her dark jacket and rain beaded on her long, wheat-colored hair. “I’ll find Phil.”

“He got called away and won’t be back for an hour or more.” Rich-people problems, one of the realities of working in home construction in an area where the wealthy liked to have summer homes. Trace and Phil tried to direct most of their business toward what Phil called “regular folk,” but every now and again they took on a wealthy client for short jobs. Some were great to work for and others, not so much.

“I’m supposed to meet with him.”

“I know.” Trace took a breath before saying, “Why don’t you wait for me in the office? This will only take a minute.”

He got into the truck without waiting for an answer and drove it around the end of the lumber shed and directly into the prefab metal building known as the barn, where they kept their vehicles. A moment later, he squinted against the rain as he rolled down the oversized garage door. It landed with a thud, splashing water on his already soaked boots.

He found Em standing just inside the office, her coat still zipped to her chin and her hands in her pockets, obviously ready to leave. “Do you work for Phil?” she asked.

“I’m his partner.”

Her mouth opened in a silent ah. “You’re the M in KM Construction.”

“I am.”

She considered the situation, then said, “This isn’t going to work. I’ll take my business elsewhere.”

“If you want.” He didn’t want to work with her, but he was a little curious as to where she was going to take her business. It wasn’t his place to point out how overbooked most contractors were. That said, his easy acquiescence had her eyes narrowing again, as if she suspected there was something he wasn’t telling her.

“You think I’ll have a hard time finding someone?” she asked.

“Possibly.”

Em gave a small snort and turned to the door. She was reaching for the handle when he said,

“I had no choice but to fire you.” He’d been a probationary crew boss on the now defunct Somerset Guest Ranch and had followed the rules to a T . . . except for a small bend he’d made for his friend.

“You didn’t fire Jesse Blevins,” Em said, as if he’d spoken his thoughts aloud.

“I did not.” Trace ran a hand over the back of his neck, wishing Phil hadn’t been called away. Then he dropped his hand and let go with a simple truth. “You aren’t going to get another contractor unless you wait until late spring or summer. If you go with us, I’ll recuse myself from the job. Phil will be back later this afternoon. I can have him—”

Em drew herself up. “I wouldn’t hire this firm . . .”

Her voice trailed, but what she’d been about to say was obvious.

Trace raised his eyebrows. “If it were the last contracting outfit on Earth?”

“Well put.”

I hope you enjoyed the excerpt. I’m looking forward to releasing this book and I’ll post another excerpt in May along with a release day give away. Until then…Happy Spring!

Home with the Rodeo Dad and a Give Away!

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I am  happy to announce the first book of my sweet romance trilogy The Cowgirls of Larkspur Valley has been released. Some books are fun to write and this was one of them. Home With the Rodeo Dad includes a lot of my favorite tropes–a protective single dad who happens to be a rodeo rider; a tight community; a family of rambunctious siblings (the heroine’s family); horses; and a baby.

Here’s a the opening scene:

“Easy, Button. We’re almost there.”

Troy Mackay glanced in the rearview mirror of his Ford F-250 as his six-month-old daughter’s warning cry became a full-fledged howl. His shoulders tightened in response, but he didn’t panic like he would have only a few months ago.

Livia hit a particularly high note just as the headlights shone over a mailbox with a crooked flag, at which point he was supposed to turn left, according to the directions his new landlord had given him.

“Just another mile, kiddo.”

Livia hiccupped, sucked in a breath and then howled again. Troy winced as he fought with himself to keep from stopping the truck right there.

An eternity later, which showed as four minutes on the dashboard clock, he rolled to a stop in front of a dark house and turned off the ignition. Livia went quiet, as if sensing that a big change was taking place.

It was.

Troy Mackay, former career rodeo rider was now Troy Mackay, single dad and full-time farrier. Or he would be full time as soon as he hung out his shingle and got Livia enrolled in the local daycare center.

Troy opened the rear door of the truck and unlatched the baby carrier. He was debating about whether to leave Livia strapped in or take her out and hold her when the porch light came on behind him.

He whirled toward the light, wondering if a place this old had motion sensors, then he saw movement in the reflected light on the windows. There was someone in the house. Quickly, he relatched the baby carrier, closed the door and stood protectively in front of the truck. This house was supposed to be empty, so what was he facing?

A squatter taking refuge, maybe?

Livia let out a howl that shattered the stillness of the night.

Get in the truck and drive. Come back in the morning.

The need to protect his daughter was paramount, and Troy was about to do just that, even though he had no place to go. Then the front door opened, and a young woman stepped out, hugging her long sweater around her body.

“Hi,” he called in the friendliest voice he could manage. “Maybe I’m at the wrong place. I’m looking for Littlegate Farm.”

“Why?” The woman pulled her sweater more tightly around her, and her chin lifted as she spoke.

Troy shifted his weight, perplexed by the woman’s tone. “Because I rented it.”

Her back stiffened. “I don’t think so.”

He frowned. “I have a contract.”

“No.”

“You want to see it?” he asked.

“No need. It’s not valid.”

Troy cocked his head stubbornly. “How so?”

“I own Littlegate Farm, and I promise you that I haven’t rented it to anyone.”

Me again. I hope you enjoyed the excerpt.  I’ll be giving away three digital copies of this sweet romance. If you’d like to enter, simply leave a comment telling me your favorite kind of romance trope, such as working together to overcome the odds, enemies to lovers, single dad, grumpy hero-feisty heroine, mistaken identity, etc. I’m looking forward to hearing what you like.

Best,

Jeannie

Cobalt Skies by Guest Author Pegg Thomas

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I’ve very happy to be here on Petticoats & Pistols talking about my new release, Cobalt Skies, the second book in my post-Civil War series, A More Perfect Union.

This series began with the question of what happened to the Civil War soldiers, especially those who were devastatingly impacted by the war. The books are not sequential and can be read in any order. The heroes are ex-cavalrymen meeting heroines who have been changed by the war as well. All must find new paths for their lives, new careers, but also new hope for a future.

All three books deal with different aspects of the fallout from the war. In Emerald Fields, Russ is physically changed by the war. In Cobalt Skies, Hick is left emotionally damaged. In Silver Prairies, Ben is financially devasted. These types of traumatic changes make for some wonderful story conflict and drama. Of course, pairing each hero with a heroine he may or may not wish to be paired with just doubles the fun! Here’s a snippet from Cobalt Skies:

 

“I believe I am fit to ride this morning. I feel remarkably better than yesterday.”

Hick rose and grabbed another stick to feed the fire. “I’m not, ma’am. Another day will do me good.”

“It is imperative that I make it to St. Joseph. The wagon trains leave in the spring to make it through the mountains before the heavy snows.” There was a tinge of desperation in her voice. “Asel and I arrived too late last year. I can’t miss them again.”

“One more day won’t stop you from getting on a wagon train.” If a wagon master would sign her on, which he doubted, but it was no concern of his. “Me and Trooper are going to rest here one more day. What you and your mule do, that’s up to you.”

She shifted without rising, but he could almost feel her annoyance from across the open space between them. Funny how women could do that. Ma had always been able to—

“Then I suppose Peaches and I will stay one more day.” She rose and folded her blankets. “Do you have more bacon? I could cook that with biscuits.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Hick pulled the small slab of bacon from his saddlebag and handed it to her. “I’ll see to your mule.”

“Her name is Peaches.”

“So you said.” But he wasn’t going to call the animal by that fool name. What if someone heard him? Then he snorted to himself. Who’d hear out here? But Peaches? They’d been good on the pancakes, but it was no fitting name for a mule. A mule that took a snap at him as he untied her tether.

After breakfast, the bacon having been cooked to perfection instead of scorched and the biscuits as tender as any he’d ever bitten into, Hick shouldered his saddle.

“I’ll take Trooper out and see if I can’t hunt something up for supper.”

Mrs. Piper’s hands landed on her hips. That was never a good sign on any woman.

“If we are here to rest for another day”—she fairly glared at him—“why would you ride off to hunt?”

“Because, ma’am, you would do well with some broth to build your blood back up.” He turned his back on her and strode to Trooper. The old bay lifted his muzzle, spring grass dangling from his lips as if to say he hadn’t finished his breakfast yet. “Don’t you start.” Hick slung the blanket and saddle onto Trooper’s back, then reached under and drew up the girth. “Bad enough the lady is complaining about my actions.”

He mounted and rode away without looking back. Maybe he should have grabbed his saddlebag and bedroll and just kept going. He didn’t need anyone telling him what to do and when to do it.

He’d had his fill of that during the war.

***

Here’s a bit of fun-for-me trivia: the horse on the cover is my old horse, Trooper, who passed away in 2017 at the age of 25. I still miss that ol’ boy. He was my buddy.

I’d love to do a giveaway of Cobalt Skies to one person who answers this question on this blog:

Have you ever owned/ridden/known a favorite horse, and if so, what was its name?

In the contiguous 48 states, the winner has their choice of ebook or paperback. All others, ebook only (and as long as your country allows me to send an ebook).

To follow me and learn more about my books and spinning wheels, you can subscribe to my monthly newsletter. (I promise never to sell/trade/or otherwise disperse your contact information.)

Pegg Thomas – Spinner of Yarns

 

Do You Want to be a Cowgirl? by Guest Author Macie St. James

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Starting and running a ranch is a lot of work. First, you’ll need the money to buy the land, equipment, and livestock necessary to turn a piece of property into a business. But you’ll also need to find at least 100 acres located in an ideal setting for raising cattle. Then comes the know-how necessary to start and run a successful ranch.

Still want to be a cowboy? You don’t even have to do all that. There are ranches across the U.S. that welcome visitors. Most offer a glimpse of the true ranching experience, and some even provide spa services and yoga sessions. Known as dude ranches, these properties have found a way to make money without relying solely on cattle sales.

The first dude ranch is thought to date all the way back to the 1880s. At the time, the word “dude” referred to the city types who were the target market for these vacation destinations. The first dude ranch was the Custer Trail Ranch, located in the Dakota Badlands.

It was the Custer Trail Ranch that later served as the inspiration for ranches across the country. As harsh winters hit ranches hard in the late 1880s, some cowboys chose to invest in what was then called “guest business.” Teddy Roosevelt has been credited with spreading the word about dude ranches, since he visited Custer Trail Ranch and enjoyed hunting and fishing there so much, he purchased a ranch nearby.

Throughout the decades to follow, ranchers would begin welcoming guests in response to cattle industry challenges. Railroad expansion further paved the way for ranches to host guests on their property. Passengers could travel across the country to stay at dude ranches across the west. By then, the first guest ranch, Custer Trail Ranch, had grown to become the largest dude ranch in the country, with room to accommodate 125 guests at one time. At first, dude ranches didn’t even charge to stay on their property, but that gradually changed.

Dude ranches became somewhat official in 1926, when a group of ranch owners partnered with the Northern Pacific Railway to form the Dude Ranchers’ Association. The goal of the DRA was to find new ways to market and improve the experience for guests. The DRA is still in existence today, with a membership of more than 90 dude ranches located across the U.S. and Canada.

Although dude ranches no longer appeal solely to city dwellers, the goal remains the same. Owners strive to give guests time outdoors, enjoying nature. Activities can include horseback riding, roping lessons, cattle drives, swimming, hunting, and campouts. To keep guests entertained in the winter months, ranches may also include some indoor activities like crafts and cooking classes.

If you’re thinking about enjoying the ranching experience yourself, start with a search of DRA member organizations. Some are only open seasonally, and some are large enough to handle large groups. It could make a great place for a family reunion or business retreat. Just be sure to pack your comfortable shoes and play clothes because, chances are, you’re going to get a little dirty.

Have you ever been to a dude ranch?

What’s your favorite kind of vacation?

Go behind the scenes at a dude ranch in The Maverick Cowboy, the first book in my all-new Cupid Ridge Dude Ranch series. I’m giving away one free copy to three lucky commenters today!

USA Today Bestselling author Macie St. James has written most of her life. After earning a degree in mass communications, she worked in public relations and technology for the government. She spent a full decade as a content writer before realizing her dream of being a full-time novelist. She lives in Nashville with her husband and dog, a spaniel mix.

Visit Macie’s webpage at MacieStJames.com. Sign up for her newsletter and receive a free e-book of The Coolheaded Cowboy, the prequel to the Cupid Ridge Dude Ranch series.

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Photos from Pexels:DudeRanch1  (Photo by Mathias Reding)
DudeRanch2 (Photo by Ave Calvar Martinez)
DudeRanch3 (Photo by Mathias Reding)