Showing posts with label #SmallTownUSA. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #SmallTownUSA. Show all posts

4/29/2020

A Taste of Gratitude & Joy: Tried and True Comfort Recipes


                          https://bit.ly/GratitudeandJoy







When Amanda McIntyre asked if I'd be interested in doing a cookbook with her a few months ago, I jumped at the chance! It started with discussing recipes our characters baked or prepared in our books. Then we started talking about recipes we loved, which one of our relatives handed the recipe down to us, traditions, etc.

But we were both immersed in other writing projects and had to put the cookbook collaboration on the back burner.



Then the unthinkable happened, and the COVID-19 became a pandemic. I was not as aware of it at the time because of my husband's health crisis going on at the same time. But I was quickly brought up to speed when I was able to bring him home from the hospital.

Amanda and I started chatting about the changes in our lives during the pandemic, sheltering in place and the differences between what my family was doing here on the East Coast, and what her family was doing in the Heartland. 

One thing was clear to the both of us, the need to draw our families as close as possible, protect them, provide for them...and for us...it all started in the kitchen. My favorite room in the house!

We both knew we had something to offer our Readers...recipes from our hearts, with memories of the strong women who taught us to bake, to cook, and to handle whatever life had in store of us. Because life is not for the faint of heart!



This collection of recipes is our way of thanking our great grandmothers, grandmothers, and our mothers for their lessons in the kitchen and in life. 

They not only passed down traditions and their culinary expertise, but how to survive their generation's crises. For our great grandmothers it was the 1918 Influenza epidemic and The Great War. For our grandmothers, it was World War II, Polio and Small Pox. For our mothers it was the Korean War, the Vietnam War and the Measles and German measles epidemic. For Amanda and myself it has been 9/ll and the COVID-19 Pandemic.

We encourage everyone to...

Keep the Faith!
Wash your hands!                          Practice Social Distancing
Keep 6' between yourself and others when shopping for essentials at the grocery store, the pharmacy, and running essential errands.




Be Safe!
Be Well!
Be Happy!

And know you are not in this alone!!!
Amanda and I are praying for you and your families!


A Taste of Gratitude & Joy: Tried and True Comfort Recipes is available today at Amazon in print and e-book, and coming soon in hardback!

Get your copy here:

https://bit.ly/GratitudeandJoy

A PORTION OF SALES GO TO
FEEDING AMERICA.ORG

















About Amanda

Published internationally in print, eBook, and Audio, bestselling author Amanda McIntyre finds inspiration from the American Heartland that she calls home. Best known for her Kinnison Legacy cowboys and Last Hope Ranch series, her passion is writing emotional, character-driven small town contemporary western, historical, women’s fiction, and Celtic fantasy. Amanda truly believes that no matter what, love will always find a way.

Connect:
Amazon Author Page: http://bit.ly/AmandasAuthorPage



 About C. H.

C.H. writes about the things she loves most: Family, her Irish and English Ancestry, Baking and Gardening. Take a trip back in time to Regency England for her new series: The Lords of Vice, coming from Dragonblade Publishing in 2020! Venture back to the Old West with her bestselling Irish Western Series. Fast-forward to the present, stopping at the Circle G Ranch in Pleasure, Texas, before finally landing in Apple Grove, Ohio–Small Town USA–for a slice of Peggy McCormack’s Buttermilk Pie!

Connect:
Website:
http://www.chadmirand.com
Newsletter:  C.H.s Newsletter
Amazon Author Page:  C.H.s Amazon Author Page





2/17/2020

Recipe Share & New Release: One Day in Apple Grove



February can be really cold in our neck of the woods. Nothing warms you up like a hearty meal of Mama Jo's Meatballs and Red Sauce! Served over your favorite pasta or just meatballs in a bowl with lots of sauce and Italian bread and butter ;) You can see from the battered recipe in the sheet protector that it was well used over the years. And changed...depending on my mood and what was in the pantry. LOL!



Mama Jo's Meatballs ~ serves 5 to 6 hungry men 
(or 2 with leftovers)

My Mother-in-law gave me this recipe years ago and you can tell from the battered condition it's in that it was used often...but as Flora the Fairy Godmother from Sleeping Beauty said "Oh, I improved it." LOL! I never use plain breadcrumbs when the Italian breadcrumbs taste soooo much better. Who uses just one clove of garlic? Not me...always use 4 to 6 depending on the size. More Parmesan cheese, yes please! And then there's always "camper's motto"...what you don't have you won't use. You get the general idea.

Ingredients:
3.5 to 4 pounds of 80/20% freshly ground chop meat (it's the size Shop Rite by me usually carries)
1 cup Italian bread crumbs *Note: I used Panko once because that was all I had, and they didn't hold together as well*
4 to 6 garlic cloves, minced (I like to use a garlic mincer instead of a knife)
4 tablespoons dried parsley
1 cup Parmesan cheese
4 tablespoons EVOO or vegetable oil if you don't have the olive oil
2 teaspoons of salt
1 teaspoon cracked black pepper
2 eggs, well beaten

Break up the chop meat into a large mixing bowl. Add the rest of the ingredients...and now comes the yucky part, getting your hands in the bowl and mushing it all together until combined. Roll into meatballs--any size you like--my guys like manly meatballs, our grandsons's eyes popped open the first time I served the manly meatballs to them. They're used to tinier ones LOL!

Add vegetable oil to a large non-stick skillet, add the meatballs. Cover and cook on medium heat, browning on both sides. Check often to make sure they don't stick or burn. Using a slotted spoon, add the meatballs to pot of simmering Red Sauce.


~ ~ ~ 


C.H.'s Red Sauce
Serves 5 - 6 hungry men (or 2 with leftovers)

Ingredients:
1 large can of Tomato Puree  ~ 29 oz. (no salt and no spices added)
1 large can of Crushed Tomatoes ~ 29 oz. (no salt and no spices added)
4 to 6 large garlic cloves, minced
1 medium to large onion, chopped
EVOO to coat the bottom of a Dutch Oven
Red Cooking Wine
3 heaping tablespoons of dried basil
2 heaping tablespoons of oregano
2 teaspoons salt *if it needs more salt when you taste it, add Seasoned salt*
2 teaspoons cracked black pepper

Add EVOO to the Dutch Oven sautee' garlic and onion in EVOO until tender and cooked through. Add basil, oregano, salt and pepper, stirring to combine. Add Red cooking wine (or Merlot or Cabernet Sauvingnon if you have it) to cover the bottom of the pan and hydrate the garlic, onion and spices. More if desired later *to taste* and bring to a boil.

Add tomato puree and crushed tomatoes, stirring to combine. Bring to a boil, cover and reduce heat. Stirring and checking constantly to make sure it doesn't stick or burn. Taste frequently and add additional spices or wine if desired. Simmer about 1/2 hour or 45 minutes.

Add the cooked meatballs and bring to another boil. Simmer for another 1/2 hour to 45 minutes to ensure the meatballs are cooked through.

Serve over pasta or in a bowl with Italian bread and butter.

~ ~ ~

Celebrating the release of the Sweet Version of One Day in Apple Grove, Book 2 in my Sweet Small Town USA Series!

This book is dedicated to Sue Grimshaw, whose vision, insightful edits and attention to detail gave new life to the residents of Apple Grove, Ohio ~ Small Town USA. The Mulcahy Family and I thank you.

I like to use family names in my books. My Grandfather's sister (my Great Aunt Margaret married Frank Mulcahy. My Mom used to have great stories about her uncles Frank and Joe Mulcahy. Years ago I connected with one of Great Uncle Frank and Aunt Margaret's granddaughters on Ancestry.com and realized we had the same picture!!! 

I wanted to give my heroines something different...and edge if you will...so I decided on handymen as their father only had daughters to pass the family legacy/business on to. If you have read my Apple Grove series already, this time around is even better! Too many cooks the last time... Love this new sweet version. Thanks to Sue!






One Day in Apple Grove
Small Town USA Book Two
Excerpt from Chapter 2

Dusk lent a certain mystical quality to the air. Driving past the newly planted fields she let go of the day’s troubles. If she squinted, Cait could just imagine faeries flitting about waving magic wands over the earth, pond, and trees as vines, flowers, and buds burst into bloom. Letting her imagination wander, she almost didn’t see the car parked at the side of the road until she was just about to pass it.
Recognizing the jeep as Jack’s, she slowed down.
Why had he stopped?  Was someone hurt? She pulled off the road in front of his vehicle, got out, and started to look for him.
“Hey, Jack—where are you?”
The silence had her gut icing over before she chastised herself that people only parked their cars and disappeared in the moves—like the one she’d watched last night trying to unwind after a long night in her woodshop. “No more late-night horror movies for you, Cait.” 
She called out again, “Do you need help?”
When he still didn’t answer, she pulled out her cell phone. If anyone had gotten sick out on Eden Church Road, Peggy would have heard and would let her know. She was about to hit speed dial when she heard a deep shout coming from across the road.
Turning toward the sound, she was knocked off balance by a small, black, fuzzy missile. Wrapping her arms around the animal so it wouldn’t get hurt when she landed, her backside took the brunt of the impact—so did her phone when it hit the pavement and skittered across it. Luckily, it was still in one piece.
“Hey,” she said, as she looked down at the quivering puppy in her arms. “Where did you come from?”
The puppy’s tiny pink tongue bathed her face and nipped the end of her nose. When Cait laughed, the puppy did it again. She snuggled him close and bent to pick up her phone.
“Don’t let go of him!”
The deep voice grabbed her attention and had her relaxing—it was Jack. Cait looked up and watched the familiar tall, broad-shouldered figure moving across the road toward her. He was limping but ignoring the fact. Had he aggravated one of his injuries? 
She remembered the way the town seemed to hold its breath when the letters Miss Trudi and Mrs. Gannon took turns reading at the diner stopped coming. Remembered the depth of Meg’s worry for her childhood friend—adding her own when Reverend Smith started the prayer chain. Though Jack was the same age as Meg—a half a dozen years older than her—Cait had always watched the way he and Meg were with one another…the best of friends…wondering what it would be like to confide in a friend like Jack.
“Hey!”
Jack’s voice coaxed her back to the present and the man towering over her. His height drew her eyes upward, but it was the odd combination of the worried expression on his face and his commanding presence that held her attention. He vaguely resembled the teenager she remembered all those years ago—especially those deep blue eyes. She’d noticed the difference in his build the first time he’d come home on leave—he’d added muscle to the broad expanse of his chest and tall frame—and she’d dreamed of him. 
Just like always, his strong jaw and rugged good looks had her heart fluttering and tongue tying itself in knots. It was mortifying. Cait wondered if it was because he’d always been larger than life being six years older than her, or because even though they greeted one another every time they saw one another, he was still a veritable stranger.
Wasn’t it time to conquer her reaction to the man and change their status from acquaintances to friends…or maybe if she dared to admit it…more than friends?
Coming to stand beside her, he stared down at her for a moment before holding his hand out to her. “Are you all right?”
The depth of his voice did funny things to her insides as she stared up at him. But he seemed unaware of her plight as concern filled his eyes.
When she remained silent, his brow wrinkled. He frowned down at her.
She had to clear her throat to answer, “Yes, but why are you chasing this poor little puppy?” Gotta get over being tongue-tied around you.
He chuckled and the rusty sound of it only added to the man’s appeal. “The little rascal ran out in front of me,” he explained, pulling her to her feet. “I had to swerve not to hit him. I’ve been chasing him for the last fifteen minutes. Thanks for catching him.”
“I didn’t exactly catch him,” she looked down at the bundle in her arms and sighed. “He knocked me off my feet.”
He smiled and a dimple winked at her. Caitlin was charmed all over again by that touch of sweetness amid his rugged good looks.
“You’ve grown up on me, Caitlin.” He pulled her to her feet.
She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. “I doubt I’ve changed all that much in the few years you’ve been back, Jack.”
His gaze locked on hers, and he’d yet to let go of her arm. When she shifted slightly, he dropped his hand and took a step back. “Sometimes we get stuck in a holding pattern—seeing what we’ve always seen and not really looking.”
Cait wondered if he was thinking of the time he’d spent on the other side of the Atlantic or the years before he’d left. She had a feeling it was a little of both. Unsure of how to continue, she looked up at the sky. “They’re saying we’ll have rain by midnight.”
He tilted his head to the side and his features softened, not quite a smile, but no longer frowning. The last few rays of sunlight glinted off his high and tight military haircut. Auburn? She’d forgotten he had the same hair color as her dad. Maybe he was right about seeing what you expected to. How many other things had she forgotten over the years, or not paid attention to?
He cleared his throat and said, “I heard about your grandfather’s truck.”
“Everyone makes mistakes—” she began only to be interrupted.
“When you’re in the service, you’re not at liberty to make poor decisions, you need to do the right thing, at the right time—second chances aren’t always an option.”
The bleak look in his eyes darkened their hue to midnight blue. Was he remembering something from his time in the Navy? Without thinking, she asked, “Is that why you’re limping?”
Anger flashed in the depths of his gaze, warning her she’d either hit the nail on the head, or was completely off the mark and had insulted him. Before she could ask, he ground out. “No.”
“Sorry.” She didn’t want to antagonize the man, maybe Jack didn’t have time to talk to her. She could always try again another time.
She nuzzled her face in the soft fur of the little one she’d been neglecting. The puppy sighed. Life was full of change—so much had changed after that drunk driver had taken her mother away from them. But life was also about taking chances. She decided not to wait until the next time she saw him. Who knew when that would be?
She asked, “Did you twist your ankle chasing after this little cutie?”
The dog chose that moment to lift his head and stare up at her. His head was cocked to the side, making his ears flop to the left, but it was his under bite and little black lips that had her forgetting all about Jack’s flinty-eyed stare. Melting into a warm puddle, she kissed the tip of the puppy’s nose. 
“No.” 
Startled by the hard edge in his reply, she looked up in time to see a mix of anger and anguish before he blinked and she was left to wonder if she’d imagined it. It was definitely time to change the subject. “What are we going to do?”

Giveaway! I'm giving away 2 copies (print or e-book) of One Day in Apple Grove. To enter, leave a comment.


Happy Reading!
C.H.


1/17/2020

New Release ~ A Wedding in Apple Grove

Celebrating the release of the Sweet version of A Wedding in Apple Grove, Sweet Small Town USA Book 1!


This book is dedicated to Sue Grimshaw, whose vision, insightful edits and attention to detail gave new life to the residents of Apple Grove, Ohio ~ Small Town USA. The Mulcahy Family and I thank you.

I like to use family names in my books. My Grandfather's sister (my Great Aunt Margaret married Frank Mulcahy. My Mom used to have great stories about her uncles Frank and Joe Mulcahy. Years ago I connected with one of Great Uncle Frank and Aunt Margaret's granddaughters on Ancestry.com and realized we had the same picture!!! 


~ ~ ~

A Wedding in Apple Grove
Small Town USA Book One
Excerpt from Chapter One

Daniel Eagan downshifted then accelerated through the curve.  Weeping hemlocks and spruce trees grew side by side with oak and maple trees lining the road leading him to his new home—and life in Ohio. The sheer size and number of the trees were daunting.
The shades of green melded into a blur as he picked up speed on the straightaway. “No sidewalks.” He knew he was getting closer to the town of Apple Grove but still hadn’t seen more than a handful of homes along Route 70. Up ahead, there was a break in the trees so Dan slowed down to see if it was a driveway or the street he’d been looking for: Eden Church Road.
It was a pond just a few feet from the edge of the road. The weathered split-rail fence by the road was covered with vines. He couldn’t guess what type of vine it was—he’d have to wait until spring. He checked his watch, saw that he’d made good time and could slow down to admire his surroundings. There was a brightly colored, inflatable, kid-sized canoe on the other side of the pond next to a beat-up rowboat, with a fence just beyond. Horses grazed on the other side of the fence. He wondered if the owners competed in equestrian events, like his friends back home in Sussex County, New Jersey. He’d have to find out later, but for now he wanted to get to his destination before late afternoon.
He began to wonder if he missed his turn when all at once he noticed the bright yellow water tower looming ahead. Almost there. He drove past a cornfield with a ship’s mast and crow’s nest and pulled over. Chuckling he snapped a picture with his cell phone to send to his cousin back home.
As he drew closer to the water tower, he noticed writing on the side of it—painted in bold green letters it read: Marry me, Edie, Love Bill. He wasn’t sure if it was the John Deere color scheme or the fact that someone would write a marriage proposal on the side of a water tower that tipped him off to the fact that he wasn’t back East anymore—life was definitely different in the Midwest. He only hoped he’d fit in. He couldn’t go back, he could only go forward.
A few miles later, he saw the sign for Eden Church Road and slowed down to make the turn. He smiled at the county name at the top of the street sign—Licking County—noting it just added to the charm.

The road ahead wound through gently rolling hills. Ten minutes down the road he noticed a farmer’s wall—stones piled a few feet high and deep—outlining the property he could see up ahead. A huge barn, corral, and freshly painted white, two-story farmhouse, complete with the requisite wraparound porch and rocking chairs, were off to the left. As he drove past, he saw a crowd of people gathered out on the lawn. He slowed down and took it all in—the women dressed in myriad colors standing amid the background of grays and dark blues of the men in jackets and ties. There were long tables clothed in white and folding chairs sporting ridiculously large bows. Everyone seemed to be talking, laughing, and having a wonderful time. A wedding—he wondered if it was Edie and Bill from the water tower.
As he drove past, he saw a figure up ahead and laughed. “Must be my perspective.” A few more feet and he saw he wasn’t hallucinating. A young woman walked along the top of the fence as if it were a balance beam.
His heart stuttered as the figure windmilled her arms to keep from falling, barely regaining her balance. Swerving to the shoulder, he shifted to neutral, pulled up the hand brake and shoved open the door. He ran toward her as she lost her balance again. This time she pitched backward off the fence into his waiting arms.
Warning bells sounded as she turned her head. The sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose captivated him. He nearly got lost in the endless blue of her eyes. Unable to pinpoint her age without asking, he pegged her as seventeen—eighteen tops.
Reason returned and he set her gently on her bare feet. His gaze dipped down.  She’d painted her toenails a bright green…another tip off she was in her late teens.
Irritation tangled with thoughts he had no business thinking. “You could have been seriously injured,” he ground out. “What were you thinking, pulling a stunt like that?”
She tilted back to look up at him. “I didn’t ask you to stop.”
 He was here for a new teaching job, and used to being the boss. Kids, and their parents, respected his authority. Why was this disconcerting young woman giving him a problem? “You could have broken an arm or leg.”
She put her hands on her hips and gave him a measuring look. He wondered if she was older than he’d first thought. She dressed as if she were, but he remembered some of the teenagers he’d taught back home dressed as if they were in their thirties. Looking for another clue to her age, he focused on her face. The freckles hinted at youth, but he just wasn’t sure. He shook his head and demanded, “Does your mother know you walk on fences?”
Her smiled slipped as tears filled her eyes. She looked away, but answered, “She used to.”
Now he’d gone and done it. It was obvious she’d lost her mother recently. “Can I call someone to pick you up?” He was reaching in his pocket for his phone when she brushed a fiery strand of hair out of her eyes. Damn him for noticing. If the local law caught wind of the thoughts he was having, they’d slap him in cuffs and take him downtown.
He had to put some distance between them. “Here,” he handed her his phone, but she shook her head, declining his offer.
“I’m just taking a walk then heading back to my friend’s wedding.” She tilted her head to one side and asked, “Are you driving through Apple Grove or staying on?”
“Moving here. I’m Dan Eagan,” he said holding out his hand, “your new phys ed teacher.”
At her lilting laughter, he withdrew his hand. He didn’t like to be laughed at. While he searched for the diplomatic words to put her in her place, she crossed her arms and said, “Well, Dan Eagan, you would have been a welcome addition to the teaching staff a dozen years ago when I was there. Mr. Creed didn’t have the high school girls’ hearts all aflutter, like I am sure they will be when you walk into class.”
She smiled and he noticed the fine lines around her eyes and the maturity that comes with living life. Relief speared through him. “You’re not one of my students.”

This time, she held out her hand. “Meg Mulcahy. Welcome to Apple Grove.”

~ ~ ~

I wanted to give my heroines something different...and edge if you will...so I decided on handymen as their father only had daughters to pass the family legacy/business on to. If you have read my Apple Grove series already, this time around is even better! Love this new sweet version. Thanks to Sue!



~ ~ ~

To celebrate, I'm giving away 2 copies of A Wedding in Apple Grove, Book 1 in my Sweet Small Town USA Series. To enter, leave a comment.



a Rafflecopter giveaway

11/01/2019

Friday With the Crew-NEW RELEASES!


T. Fordice is the winner of the drawing.


It's that time of year when the air turns crisp, and we think of snuggling under a blanket on a quiet afternoon to "get lost in a story." No matter if it's a paperback book or your favorite tablet for reading digital, there's nothing quite as relaxing to the reader's soul!

Our crew has some delightful new releases we'd like to share for your reading pleasure! Take advantage of these scrumptious samplings of stellar storytelling!!!
AMANDA
AMAZON kindleUnlimited
Newly appointed Sheriff J.C. Nash has more on his plate than investigating a mysterious fire that’s destroyed End of the Line’s beloved library. Olivia Evans, the girl he helped save from criminal mischief charges back in high school even as she crushed his heart is all grown up and back in town. Worse than the sparks that still fly between them is J.C.’s fear that they will ignite a passion he won’t be able to walk away from--like she did to him, all those years ago.

 
Olivia once believed if she kept moving fast enough, her family’s dark secrets wouldn’t catch up to her. But when she comes back home to End of the Line to care for her ailing mother, she’s forced to face her painful past and face the man—now sheriff—she ran from all those years ago. Unexpectedly, the town and its people begin to creep back into Olivia’s heart, giving her the sense of belonging she’s longed for. But when things start to heat up between her and the sexy sheriff, how can she convince him to trust that she won’t leave again?

Excerpt~
A soft tap sounded on the front door. Frowning, she glanced at her watch, realizing how late it was. The sidewalks in End of the Line rolled up no later than seven on a week night.
A second rap, slightly stronger, issued again. She reached out, her eye still on the door, and grabbed her father’s brass-knobbed cane. Flipping on the porch light, she peered through one of the two narrow beveled windows flanking the solid oak door. Her breath caught at the sight of a man with broad shoulders turned away from the door. Olivia spotted the sheriff’s insignia on the truck in the drive. What on earth would he be doing here?
She lifted the tarnished chain latch, wondering if it would even hold up to a stiff wind. Just one more thing falling apart in this old house.
The formidable figure turned toward the door and her heart came to a standstill. It couldn’t possibly be—
She slipped the lock fully from its mooring and opened the door. “Jacob Nash? Is that you?” Olivia took him in, from his closely cropped dark hair and shadow casing of a beard to the width of his shoulders encased in an old, gray varsity T-shirt and faded blue jeans.
Lord have mercy. Her girl parts went full alert.
“Olivia.” His response was clipped.
Aware that she’d forgotten her shower—forgotten many things, having gotten side-tracked in cleaning her father’s den—and likely looked a mess only highlighted the very vivid memory of the last time she’d seen Jacob Nash. Shoving away the image of the back seat of his old Charger on prom night, she glanced at her watch. “Are you aware of the time?”
He rubbed one eye, ignoring her question. “Our dispatcher received an emergency 911 call from this residence.”
He leaned forward slightly to peer over her shoulder. Olivia noticed his brow lift on seeing the boxes stacked by the door.
“Just dropping by to make sure everything’s okay.”
“Well, I certainly didn’t call—” Her confusion cleared and she pressed her hand to her forehead. “It must have been my mother.”
“Deidre, uh…dispatch felt perhaps she was in distress,” he said. “Have you checked on her?” There was a judgmental tone in his query that smacked all too familiar to her upbringing.
“She knows to text my phone…” Olivia reached inside the strap of her sports bra where she normally kept her cell phone. It was gone. “Shoot. I must have laid it down someplace.” She glanced up, catching his gaze on where her hand had been. Where his had once been as well, but that was long ago. Two young teens in the back of a car. Caught up in a rush of emotions. Both needing connection. Not thinking beyond the moment.
He cleared his throat and it brought her back to the present. Eyeing her as though he’d been reading her mind, he sighed and looked away before he spoke. “Maybe we should go check on her.”


JACQUI 


A Bride for Brynmor - A Wild West Love Song in 1878

Welcome to Songbird Junction, where Welsh meets West in Colorado 1878.

Can a sister who’s lived only for others find freedom with one man? Family has always come first—for both of them. He’s never forgiven himself for letting her go. She’s never forgiven herself for almost getting him killed.

When Lark and her songbird sisters are separated fleeing their cruel and controlling troupe manager, only Brynmor Llewellyn can help Lark save her sisters and escape to the far west. But Lark wants more. And so does Brynmor. When they’re stranded in a spot as difficult to guard as it is to leave—a rustic cabin at a train junction between Denver and the mountain town of Noelle, Colorado—they find themselves fighting not only for survival but for redemption, forgiveness, and a second chance for their love.

Will the frontier train stop of Songbird Junction be Lark and Brynmor’s salvation? Or their downfall when her manager, a con artist who calls himself her uncle but cherishes only his own fame and fortune—demands a debt no one can pay?

Welcome to Songbird Junction, where Welsh meets West in Colorado 1878. The journey to find a forever home and more starts here. Brynmor, Heddwyn, and Griffin Llewellyn are three Welsh brothers bound by blood and a passion for hauling freight—in Denver where hard work pays. Lark, Oriole, and Wren are three Irish-Cree MĆ©tis sisters-of-the-heart bound by choice and a talent for singing—in any place that pays.

A BRIDE FOR BRYNMOR ~ EXCERPT ~  from CHAPTER 2

Balancing a fidgety lamb in one arm, Brynmor opened the railcar’s door. Before he could take the other lamb from Lark, so she could more easily climb inside, she was aboard. As nimble as their foundlings’ wild cousins who ruled Colorado’s mountains.

She’d moved as fast as his sister. But Robyn had never, until recently, chosen to wear a dress. Lark must have lifted the hem of her striped skirt to aid her ascent. He hadn’t noticed. He’d been looking elsewhere.

The ebony waterfall cascading down the back of her red jacket mesmerized him. He also hadn’t noticed until he met Lark that most women tied up their hair. Lark was completely different from anyone he’d ever met. She didn’t even braid her hair.

When she glanced over her shoulder, her dark eyes held a fathomless allure that rendered him speechless. “Have you changed your mind about traveling with me to Noelle?”

"No. Of course not.” Why would she think that? Because you’re staring at her like a besotted fool rather than getting on the train with her. 

He tightened his grip on his cargo and followed her. A lot less gracefully. The lamb squirmed at the worst moment. Rather than let the rascal hit the wall, he let his shoulder take the brunt. “Ouch. You little b—” He gritted his teeth and patted the little bounder’s head, trying to calm him.

“Are you all right?” Lark’s silky voice soothed his agitation.

He lifted the lamb higher. It nestled its head under his chin and finally relaxed as well.

“Haven’t felt this good in a long time.” The truth in his words did not surprise him. He was with Lark. And he wasn’t shirking his work, so he didn’t have to feel guilty. At least not overly. He could’ve loaded the wool on the train, put the lambs in Lark’s excellent care, and trusted her and the conductor to handle the transport from there.


As was their routine, Robyn and Max would be waiting to unload their freight at the other end. He wasn’t needed for that. But he wanted to be there to help with that. He wanted to hug his sister and see Max’s reaction when he received his gift.

He wanted to see Lark’s as well. Every second she stayed with him was his gift.

She watched him closely. One of her perfectly shaped eyebrows arched like a raven’s wing. Was she finally ready to take flight? Away from not only his erratic behavior but all of him? He hid his eye by turning to close the railcar door behind him.

He didn’t want her to run from him again. From his raging desire to be near her. From the flaw in his vision and in his character. He hadn’t been strong enough to protect her.

Read A BRIDE FOR BRYNMOR's opening scene on my website or buy the book on Amazon

LIZBETH
MISSING ONE ANGEL
Part of the holiday box set "A Season of Suspense: A Chandler County Christmas"

When a runaway teen enters Sawyer Hawkins and Mallory Carrick's life, the newly-engaged couple struggles to help the girl find her way back home. But as Angel Coltrane's reasons for running from her foster home come to light, all the people around her find themselves in danger. When Angel disappears, Mallory and Sawyer must race to find her. But will their love be strong enough to handle the future even if they can get to her on time?

EXCERPT 
 “She’s not a stray puppy, Mallory. We can’t simply keep her.”
Sawyer lay beside her, with her arm pillowed on his arm. The double bed in her room wasn’t really big enough for his height or her need to curl up on the middle half of the mattress, but she loved the nights they made themselves fit. The times they tempted each other and slept together, promising to wait, despite how hard it was, until they were certain sex was going to be forever and not a regret like past relationships. But even if they had been willing, this night had turned far too serious for lovemaking.
“I do not think of her as a puppy. But that woman is insane.”
“Maybe. And I admit, it grabbed me by the heart when Angel came crawling up on that couch tonight. She made me feel like Superman. But we have to figure out a long-term plan, Mal. There are laws about minors. Not to mention details like school and friends. And raising a teenager.” 
The sinking in her stomach told her he was right.
“But the drugs, Sawyer. In the school she goes to and the home of people entrusted to care for her. We can’t send her back there.”
“I agree we can’t until we know it’s safe. That’s why tomorrow you’re going to find out what we need to do to become foster parents, should it become necessary. But even if it did, it would be temporary.”
She turned in his arms and kissed his neck behind an ear. “I know. And I know we haven’t had much chance to talk about us because of all this. I’m sorry.”
“We will.” His sigh made her smile.
“You still want to marry me, even though I made us bring home a troubled kid?”
“Mallory, I’ve always known I was signing up for a lifetime of trying to talk you out of adopting strays. Don’t ask ridiculous questions.” A smile played at the corners of his gorgeous mouth while he stared at the ceiling.
“Okay.” She lay back, satisfied. “I love you, too. When do you imagine our wedding taking place?”
“Depends on how fancy you want it to be.”
“I don’t want fancy. I don’t know how to do fancy anyway. As long as you’re there, that’s special enough.”
“Well if that ain’t every man’s dream.” He grinned again. “How about mid-spring? When everything starts out all new and fresh—before racing season starts and the world becomes all about pressure and winning. I’d like to go into the summer already a winner.”
She giggled into his shoulder. “Seriously, where are you coming up with these lines?”
“Not a clue, and to tell you the truth, I’d really like to stop all this mushy crap,” he said. “It’s a little scary.”
“No, it’s sweet. Must be part of the real you.”
“Bah, you’re goofier than a dog chasin’ its tail,” he growled and dragged his arm from beneath her so he could kiss her until hot shivers shot clear to her toes.




 And I'm super excited that this exciting set of SIX BOOKS! goes on sale everywhere NOVEMBER 4, 2019


ANGI
COVER REVEAL
(formerly Ranger Warrior)
The fate of the city rests in their hands.

When FBI operative Therese Ortis and Texas Ranger Wade Hamilton agree to team up, they have one goal in mind: find and stop an algorithm that could destroy Dallas—or worse.

But going undercover in order to bring down a criminal organization comes with its own form of danger. If discovered, they’re bound to be torn apart. Then not only will their beloved city pay the price, but Therese and Wade will suffer unforeseen—and unimaginable—consequences.

In stores Feb 18th

Here's a Snippit from a typical Wade evening...

    Just another two-for-one longneck Friday special. Wade sat on the same barstool he’d ended his nights on and had claimed for years. This particular stool was the last one next to the wall, located where no one could catch him by surprise. Only his right side was open to patrons. Better for his vision, especially now that it got fuzzy from time to time.
    He should be somewhere else.
    Maybe somewhere more respectable for a Texas Ranger. That wasn’t here. Someplace he could share that he was a ranger. Or maybe with his friends. But they all had girlfriends. Heath was back home with his wife. Slate might as well be married. And Jack—his so-called partner—was engaged.
    He should find some other friends. Maybe some who liked to…to what? Watch a game? Play trivia over some chicken wings? It didn’t matter where he went or what barstool he ended up on. He’d still be looking at every dark-haired woman who walked in the door to see if it was her.
    Dammit. He couldn’t keep this up. Six weeks was long enough visiting bars on lower Greenville Avenue. His search for Agent Therese Ortis needed to end.
    Soon. No. Tonight. He’d shown his face once too often in other dives. Earlier the barkeeps had waved him past their place, in a hurry to get the discouraged ranger on his way. His badge was far from good for their business.
    So here he sat. His go-to joint that knew him from way back. The one place where they gave him a pass for having a badge.

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