rancher

Roped Into Paradise

by

Sometimes the idea for a story catches me completely by surprise.

Such was the case for my wholesome rom-com that releases next week.

Last February, I was sitting at my desk, looking outside at the cold, wintery day, and wondering why we don’t plan vacations to sunny locales during the coldest months of the year, when an email popped into my inbox from my dad’s cousin, J/J.

J/J loves to go on cruises. In fact, at the time, he was on a multi-week, back-to-back series of cruises in the Caribbean.

When I saw an email from him, I thought, “Oh, fun! More news from someplace where it is warm and sunny and you don’t have to put on wool socks just to go get the mail.”

The email read:

“Is there any chance in the future I might see a book about romance on the high seas where a cowboy takes a cruise to some exotic location?”

After reading that question, I couldn’t help myself. My imagination shifted into high gear and I began brainstorming story ideas.

What if there was a cowboy from someplace cold, going to spend time with his grandmother who lived someplace warm, and the grandma—being an eccentric ol’ gal—drags him onto a cruise without giving him any warning or opinions on the matter? From there, the ideas kept rolling.

I’ve never been on a cruise, but, thankfully, J/J was so kind to answer my many questions and share day-to-day cruising details with me. For a week, I almost felt like I was right there on the cruise ship. J/J was also kind enough to save a bunch of information he received on the cruise, like their daily planners, and mail them to me when he returned home. There was so much great information that he shared, and I tried to work in as much as I could into the story.

A cowboy, a cruise, and a meddling grandma—what could go wrong?

JJ McKade expected to spend two weeks with his grandmother at her condo in sunny Florida, celebrating her birthday. Instead, he got shanghaied by his mischievous grandma on a Caribbean cruise—complete with hot pink luggage, a gaggle of giggling octogenarians, and a humiliating childhood nickname haunting his every move.

Between meddling matchmakers, unexpected friendships, and the endless chaos of cruise life, JJ can’t help being drawn to Kinsley Kline, the ship’s enchanting horticulturist. There’s just one catch: crew fraternizing with passengers is strictly forbidden.

With only a few months left in her contract aboard The Affinity, Kinsley can’t let anything rock her boat or derail her plans. Then the arrival of a hunky cowboy on the ship makes her question if some rules are meant to be broken, and a little boat rocking is a good thing.

From sun-drenched beaches to moonlit strolls, JJ and Kinsley must decide if an onboard romance can last on land, and if love is worth risking their hearts.

Packed with laughter, longing, and a grandmother who refuses to play by the rules, Roped Into Paradise is a heartwarming and wholesome romantic comedy about family, hope, and finding love where you least expect it. Perfect for fans of witty banter, unexpected romance, and cruise ship escapades that sweep you off your feet.

Here’s a little excerpt from the book:

JJ tugged on the only pair of clean jeans he’d packed in his bag and unrolled a green plaid western shirt, fastening the snaps with one hand while using the other to finger-comb his hair. In the adjoining bathroom, he splashed his face with cold water and brushed his teeth, then he moseyed into the kitchen, lured by the scent of coffee.

“Here,” Grams said, shoving a travel mug into his hand. “You can drink that on the way.”

“On the way to where?” he asked, taking a long, bracing sip of coffee so strong and black, he could feel it peeling away layers of tissue as it traveled down his throat.

“The store, JJ. Do try to keep up,” Grams said, snagging her car keys off a hook by the door that led into her garage. She gave him a look that clearly conveyed her thoughts that he was hopeless as he stumbled over the step into the garage. “I’ll drive.”

He thought about arguing, but refrained. Until the caffeine kicked in, he wasn’t sure he could find his way out to the end of the driveway.

Ten minutes later, Grams pulled into the nearly empty parking lot of a superstore that sold everything from fried chicken to pontoon boats. Hungry as he was, the fried chicken didn’t sound all that bad, even if it was a grease-soaked remnant from yesterday’s offerings.

Confused as to why they were at the store before most of the population was even awake, JJ took another long drink of coffee and then set the mug in the cupholder of the SUV.

“Why on earth are we here?” he asked as he got out of the vehicle and walked with his grandmother to the door.

“We can’t go on the boat ride until you are properly outfitted.”

“Boat ride? Outfitted?” JJ thought maybe he’d dreamed the part about Grams mentioning a boat ride last night. Did he really need new attire for a ride around the lake? Usually, they took a fishing charter cruise around the lake at some point during his visit. Cargo shorts, a T-shirt, and an old pair of sneakers would work just fine for that. “What are you talking about, Grams?”

“I told you I booked a boat ride, JJ. Aren’t you listening?” Grams asked as though he were five and incapable of paying attention.

He watched as his grandmother snagged a shopping cart from the row of them outside the door, set her purse inside, and grabbed his arm in one seemingly smooth motion as she marched inside the store.

“What kind of boat ride requires getting up this early in the morning to come shopping here, of all places, so I can be properly outfitted? Last I checked, you and Mom would both develop acute hives if you had to purchase your wardrobe here.”

Grams smiled at the greeter standing near the door and made a beeline for the men’s clothing. JJ hoped he could still move with as much agility as his grandmother had when he was her age. Then again, she attended a yoga class three times a week and took pride in walking at least a mile every day.

“It means, JJ, that we are boarding a cruise ship at half past ten this morning and setting sail for the Caribbean. You need clothes for an eleven-day trip. From the pathetic contents of your duffel bag, you’ll be forced to wash your undies in the bathroom sink every other day. You should have listened when your mother suggested you pack a suitcase with plenty of clothes, baby. Now, stop dawdling and get to shopping.” Grams pointed to a rack of cargo shorts.

Releasing January 29!

If you could snap your fingers and be on a dream vacation today, where would you go and what would you see?

Post your answer for a chance to win a $5 Amazon Gift Card!

Double the Trouble or Twice as Nice? by Charlene Sands

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Charlene-with-BooksI married a twin of the fraternal variety and we were married nearly right out of high school, so it baffles me why it’s taken me this long to write a twins story!  For me, loving a twin has been twice as nice, and not double the trouble.  But that isn’t always the case. And so, I penned a story about a hunky father of twins, who meets up with trouble in the form of a spirited woman whose car has broken down along the side of the road.  Texas Style.  

In doing my research I found out some amazing trivia about twins:

The word twin is probably derived from an ancient German word twine, which means ‘two together.

1 in every 32 children born is a twin (1 in 65 pregnancies results in a twin birth). Twins account for 1.5% of all pregnancies or 3% of the population.The twinning rate has risen 50% in the last 20 years. This is attributed to an increase in maternal age, wider use of IVF and assisted conception and advancement of medical technology.

 Fraternal twins do run in the family but only on the maternal line. If a mother herself is a fraternal twin, the chance of conceiving twins increases four-fold.
 The rate for identical twins, or monozygotic, multiples is random and universal (no influencing factors) and occurs 1 in every 285 births. They are the same sex, have the same blood types, hair and eye color, hand and footprints and chromosomes, yet have different teeth marks and fingerprints.
 Mirror image twins account for about 25% of identical twins. Their hair falls in opposite directions, they have mirror image fingerprints and if one is right handed, the other is left handed.
 Twins and multiples have been known to develop their own ‘language’ that only they understand. This ‘twin talk’ is known as cryptophasia or idioglossia.
 The world’s oldest twins were born on Feb 14 1803 in Virginia and died at the ages of 108 and 113 respectively. The chances of identical twins surpassing the age of 100 is 1 in 700 million.
 The Yoruba tribe of Nigeria have the highest twinning rate in the entire world (3 sets of twins in every 19 births). The Nigerian people attribute it to their population’s consumption of a specific type of yam. China has the lowest twinning rate with only 1 in 300 pregnancies resulting in a twin birth.
 Up to 22 percent of twins are left-handed. In the non-twin population the number is just under 10 percent.
Twin types and genders are oddly symmetrical. 1/3rd of all twins are identical, 1/3rd are the same sex fraternal and 1/3rd are male/female fraternal. Of the identical twins, half are male/male, and half are female/female. Of the same sex fraternal, half are male/male, and half are female/female.
 Australia produced the world”s first test-tube twins in June 1981.

Twins for the Texan_Sand

AMAZON    BarnesandNoble  HARLEQUIN   ITUNES  KOBO   GOOGLE PLAY

Here’s what they are saying about Twins for the Texan! 

Their explosive attraction is just the beginning of an unexpected journey full of love, parenthood and second chances.  Expressive characters bring authenticity to the emotional and sometimes chaotic aspects of falling love while raising small children. This Billionaires and Babies romance is sizzling!…Romantic Times Book Reviews Magazine 

Wyatt is an amazing hero, a wonderful father and an incredible lover. Brooke cannot help but fall in love but she is not sure Wyatt is ready for more. The path to true love is never easy and this one has more than a few rocks to navigate. The story unfolds magnificently as Brooke helps Wyatt by serving as the nanny for his children. He accepts her help and hopes for some more time in other areas as well. It was also nice to visit with Brooke’s brother and her best friend. Charlene Sands knows how to capture us and keep us reading until the last word.  Debby Guyette, formerly of Cataromance 

Do twins run in your family, like they do in mine?  How would you feel about raising twins?  Any fun twin stories? I’ll tell you mine, if you tell me yours?  Post a comment and be entered in a drawing for my new western ebook release Bachelor For Hire or one of my print backlist books…

Sands-Bachelor-MEDIUM

 

 

The Outlaw Kathleen Rice Adams Confesses

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Kathleen Rice Adams header

Why do so many women named Kathleen become romance authors? They’re everywhere.

Filly Fun 2016Kathleen E. Woodiwiss, Kathleen Kane, Kathleen O’Brien, Kathleen Baldwin, Kathleen Eagle, Kathleen Kellow, Kathleen Maxwell, Kathleen Bittner Roth, Kathleen M. Rodgers, Kathleen Ball, Kathleen Y’Barbo, Kathleen Winsor… They’re all somewhat celebrated, and some are still writing today.

Then there’s that other Kathleen—the one who finds humor in the most inappropriate places at the worst possible times. The Kathleen whose wardrobe consists primarily of egg on her face and the taste of shoe leather on her tongue. The Kathleen who encourages fictional characters to cuss and steal and murder and commit all manner of other dastardly deeds because they can get away with it and she can’t.

The troublemaking one. The one who reveres sarcasm as high art. The one who should be rich and famous by now if for no other reason than name association.

The Hideout
My current hideout. Forget you saw it.

To tell you the truth, I find it more satisfying to be poor and infamous—which is a good thing, since I’m a pro at both pursuits.

Here are a few more truths:

1)  I’m the eldest of four siblings: two girls and two boys. (Yes, four middle-aged hooligans with similar DNA remain at large. Be afraid.) Three of us are overachievers: My sister is a retired judge, the eldest of the boys is literally a rocket scientist, and the baby of the family is a computer systems engineer. And then there’s me.

2) My sister, brothers, and I played cowboys and Indians a lot when we were kids. I was always the outlaw. Why no one saw that as a warning remains a mystery.

3) I retired from the U.S. Air Force at the ripe old age of 22. No, I was not mustered out on a Section 8, although that would’ve surprised no one.

4) I still have my wisdom teeth, my appendix, and my tonsils. My mind, on the other hand, hasn’t been seen in years.

Hole in the Web Gang
The Hole in the Web Gang, clockwise from top left: Dog, age 12; Underdog, 7; Little Ol’ Biddy, 15; Mr. Ed, 4.

5) As a journalist, I’ve worked the scene of a major airline disaster, covered political scandals, written columns about poltergeist-infested commodes and human kindness, won awards…and found myself staring at the wrong end of a gun—twice. Thankfully, I’ve yet to be ventilated. (A more astute individual might have realized it’s unwise to antagonize crazy people.)

6) My author bio says I come from “a long line of ranchers, preachers, and teachers on one side and horse thieves and moonshiners on the other.” I did not make any of that up. Some of my relatives still ranch, preach, and teach. The horse thieves and moonshiners found other lines of work.

7) My paternal grandmother’s mother was American Indian. Grandma never knew what tribe; consequently, neither do I. In the late 1800s, Kentucky hillbillies considered marrying an Indian shameful, so no one talked about great-grandma’s heritage. My grandmother never met her mother’s relatives. (My dad, who as a child helped his father run moonshine, was the first in his family’s history to earn a college degree. He referred to himself as a “hillwilliam.”)

Peaches by Kathleen Rice Adams8) My short story “Peaches” was based on my maternal grandparents’ courtship. Granny, a young widow who taught in a one-room Texas schoolhouse and had her hands full with three rowdy boys, took a peach pie to a church social. The man who was to become my grandfather, a bachelor rancher in his 50s, won the accidentally over-seasoned pie at auction. He nearly choked to death on the first bite. His response? “I s’pose I ought to marry that little woman ‘fore she kills somebody.”

9) My house celebrated its 100th birthday last year. Compared to some of the other homes on Galveston Island, it’s a youg’un. The Capt. H.H. Hadley House (yes, it has a name) was completed in August 1915…two weeks before a deadly Category 4 hurricane struck. More than three dozen big blows later, it’s still standing.

The Dumont Brand by Kathleen Rice Adams10) Four Chihuahuas ranging in age from four to fifteen live in this house. Whatever they’ve told you about the intractability of their servant, don’t believe them. If they didn’t want to be deviled by a spoiled-rotten delinquent, they shouldn’t have rescued me.

There. Now you know all of my deep, dark secrets. Before you decide to pursue blackmail, read “The Ransom of Red Chief.”

To compensate for the loss of financial opportunity, I’ll give away a copy of The Dumont Brand, which contains the first two stories in a series about a Texas ranching dynasty with more skeletons in its closets than there are in a graveyard. “The Trouble with Honey,” a new story in the series, will be published this summer.

To enter the drawing, leave a comment revealing something about you. Oh, c’mon. It’ll be fun! Your life can’t be any more embarrassing than mine.  😉

 

Petticoats & Pistols