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!!!
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?
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.”
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 Métis 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
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?
“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
(formerly Ranger Warrior)
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.
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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Drawing will be Tuesday 11/05
T. FORDICE IS THE WINNER
Drawing will be Tuesday 11/05
T. FORDICE IS THE WINNER
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