Showing posts with label Her Bodyguard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Her Bodyguard. Show all posts

8/22/2017

E.E. Burke's Best of the West: Can Love Eclipse Hate?

Photo by Tim Petrowich
Yesterday, parts of Kansas witnessed an extraordinary, once-in-a-lifetime event: a total eclipse of the sun!

Ironically, this solar eclipse occurred on August 21, the 154th anniversary of another historical, never-to-be-forgotten event in Kansas.

The Day Hate Eclipsed Human Decency

On Aug. 21, 1863, Confederate ally and guerilla commander William C. Quantrill rounded up three hundred Missouri “bushwhackers” and descended on Kansas, wreaking a terrible vengeance on a town known for its strong stance on the abolition of slavery.

"Raid on Lawrence," Harpers Weekly, Sept. 5, 1863
What forces drove these men to attack a town filled with civilians? Some would say a thirst for revenge, tit for tat, after a disaster in Kansas City, when a building housing Confederate women prisoners collapsed on top of them, as well as other perceived injustices. By this time, deadly conflicts had raged along the Missouri-Kansas border for nearly a decade, costing innocent lives on both sides. The violence continued to spiral as the nation grappled in a civil war. 

Years later, these men who had given in to violence and hatred had to find their way back to decency. Some never did.

Although the series, Steam! Romance and Rails, begins five years after the end of the American Civil War, the two main characters who were involved in this massacre are still struggling to find healing, and both must come to grips with the meaning of justice.

Her Bodyguard, part of the series Steam! Romance and Rails, weaves history and suspense together in a tale of deceit and betrayal, heroism and sacrifice, and the unfailing power of love.

Can love eclipse hate?

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For America “Amy” Langford, investing in the railroad isn’t about chasing riches. The savvy businesswoman is after bigger stakes: influence, respect, success her father didn’t live to see. Rioting settlers and underhanded competitors can’t stop her, but a killer might. 
Buck O’Connor has put his violent past behind him, but being a wanted man dictates a life of deceit. So what’s one more lie? He becomes Amy’s protector so he can secretly thwart her railroad’s progress to help his cousin avoid financial ruin. A great scheme—until he falls in love.
While Buck hides his true purpose, Amy lies to herself about her growing feelings for her bodyguard. But the price for deceit is steep, and secrets from the past could destroy their future—if they survive.

"E.E. Burke understands the heart of romance...and delivers it!" New York Times bestselling author Maggie Shayne

“Her portrayal of strong, realistic, well-defined characters and meticulous research transports readers back to the American West.” Jill Marie Landis, New York Times bestselling author

"Amy and Buck had chemistry and steam between them to power a train! Their push-pull relationship and witty banter was riveting.” Melanie Friedman, Bookworm2Bookworm Reviews

In this excerpt, Buck has just discovered that the railroad promoter he’s supposed to remove is, in fact, a woman…the same woman who offered him a position as her bodyguard.

Buck opened the door to the newspaper office and stepped inside.
Two men were engaged in a discussion. A bearded man behind a desk piled high with newspapers glanced up. The other man sitting in front of the desk twisted in his chair, and then bolted to his feet, his eyebrows arching nearly to a sweep of black hair.
Buck met pale blue eyes similar to his own, but untainted with the icy gray of the cold-hearted bastard who’d sired him. He took an uncertain step forward, waiting a heartbeat for the familiar grin. "Sean?"
Relief flickered across the matured face, however Sean didn't embrace him as he'd always done in years past. He offered a handshake instead. ""Buck, we wondered if you'd show up."
Buck gripped his cousin’s outstretched hand and squelched a twinge of disappointment. He hadn't really expected to be greeted with open arms. They'd not seen each other for years and in between had served on opposite sides of a war. Yet, he had hoped for a warmer welcome than this.
His gaze flickered over his cousin's shoulder to the grizzled man who'd stood, waiting to be introduced. Sean did his duty. "Buck, this is Amos Sanford. He's the editor of the Workingman's Journal. I wrote to you about him. He's helping us settlers organize."
Sanford inclined his head but didn't come out from behind the desk to shake his visitor's hand. "Mr. O'Connor, good to see you could make it here to help us out."
Buck held a neutral expression. "What kind of help would that be?"
"What kind?" Sean looked startled. "Well, the kind I wrote to you about." He sent a worried glance the editor's direction.
"We need your help with removing an obstacle," Sanford said smoothly.
Aggravation churned in Buck's stomach. "An obstacle? Is that what you call her?"
When neither man answered, he strolled over to the desk and picked up a newspaper. The headline urged settlers to rise up and defend their rights. Where had he heard that kind of rhetoric before? Simmering, he rolled the paper like a club and tapped it against his palm. He had a good mind to beat these two over the head with it. "You got the wrong man for the job. I don't kill women."
Sanford sat and leaned back in his chair, stroking a gray beard that reached to the top button of his vest. Canyon deep lines rearranged themselves into a paternalistic frown. “You must have misunderstood, Mr. O’Connor. We haven’t asked you to kill anybody, much less a woman.”
Buck tossed the newspaper aside and snatched Sean's letter out of his pocket. He slapped it on the desk. “States here you want me to get rid of a railroad promoter. That don't mean sending a body away on a pleasure excursion.”
The chair creaked as Sanford reached for the letter. He peered through round spectacles perched at the end of his nose, perusing the lines like he’d never seen them. The crafty old fox had probably helped Sean craft the damn missive. After a minute, he folded the letter and crossed his arms over his chest. “There are many ways to remove obstacles, Mr. O’Connor. I suspect you’re bright enough to figure it out. Sean told me you led a company of irregulars during the war. The fact you’re alive proves you’ve still got a few tricks up your sleeve.”
An alarm tripped in Buck’s head. So that's why the Land League wanted to hire him. They thought he was still in the ambushing business. He looked at Sean, who wouldn't meet his eyes. He'd risked getting his neck stretched by returning to Kansas, but honor demanded he at least try to right a wrong done to his kinsman. Now it looked like he was a fool who'd walked into a trap.
His cousin stood at rigid attention, his tanned face drawn tight as the hide on a drum, not meeting Buck's eyes. An ache started in the center of his chest. Despite their past, they were the only family each other had left. How could Sean have betrayed him like this?
Pulling back his coat, he revealed the twin Navy Colts at his side before pinning the editor with a cold stare. He hadn't killed anyone since the day he'd left this godforsaken state, but he would reinforce the perception he was a dangerous man to cross so they'd think twice about hiring him to do their dirty work and then trying to collect a reward. "My wartime sentiments don’t have a damn thing to do with this.”
Sanford huffed. “We don’t care about your sentiments. It’s your skills we’re interested in.”
“So, you admit it. You want to hire a big gun to take care of one little lady.”
“Don’t be fooled by that pretty face," Sanford blustered. "Amy Preston will do anything to advance that cursed railroad. With this Young Ladies Immigration Society she’s using the age-old strategy for dividing men. Women.”
Buck snorted a derisive laugh. "What’s so dangerous about importing wives for a bunch of horny settlers?”
The editor swelled up like a toad. “She’s dangling petticoats as an enticement to get us to pay those exorbitant prices her boss is charging for land. These boys were soldiers and most of them are unmarried. I suppose you’ve noticed how few decent women there are out here. It’s a devilishly brilliant scheme concocted by a woman who’d sell her soul for thirty pieces of silver.”
It was a brilliant idea, but Buck had already figured out Amy was smart. Her motives, however, weren’t so clear. Was she really that greedy? “I met her already, so I know what she’s up to, but she thinks somebody’s trying to kill her.” He narrowed his eyes in a way that put most men in a fearful sweat. “If I decide to help, I need to know whether you’ve hired somebody else—and don’t even think about lying to me.”
“We don’t have enough money to hire somebody else," Sean grumbled. "If somebody's trying to kill her, it’s probably ‘cause she robbed him blind.”            
Sanford grunted an agreement. "Maybe she’s making that up so you’ll feel sorry for her. Where did you say you met her?”
 Buck didn't say, nor was he interested in providing the details. "I happened across her. She was waiting on some fellow who was supposed to help with that immigration society you mentioned.”
Sanford’s eyes sharpened with interest. “We had a talk with him. I don’t think he’s interested in volunteering anymore. Did she happen to mention her next move? We can't afford to lose any more leverage against the devil who's behind this fraud."
James Joy. The force behind the Border Tier and Satan incarnate if the settlers were to be believed. He was Amy's boss. So what did that make her? Last night, she'd looked downright angelic, even wringing wet.
If Sanford hadn't hired another gun, then her attacker was likely a renegade. Was he an irate settler, an unhappy farmer, one of the men who'd signed up for her program and gotten an ugly wife? The list could be endless.
"She didn't mention her plans.” Buck lifted his hat and threaded his fingers through his hair, his unease getting worse. She hadn't told him much, but she'd played him masterfully to gain his promise of protection, something he'd offered to no woman since being betrayed by another smart, pretty one.
Still, he'd given his word and he wouldn't go back on it. He adjusted his coat, covering the guns at his side. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not using violence against a woman, so I don’t know what it is you want me to do.”
Sanford jerked to his feet. “Distract her. Deceive her. Discredit her. We don’t care, so long as you prevent her from succeeding in her schemes.”
The frown melted as he came out from behind the desk and clapped a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “Why don’t you boys go over to the saloon and get reacquainted? Tell them I’ll pay for your drinks. I’m sure after you hear Sean’s side of things, it will clear up any misgivings you might have about ridding us of that troublesome woman.”
Buck shrugged off the unwanted familiarity. He hadn’t signed on for this kind of work. On the other hand, he couldn’t walk away without at least hearing what his cousin had to say.
Sanford casually laid his fingers on a dog-eared Bible at the corner of his desk. “You recall the story of Samson and Delilah? Makes a man think twice about falling for a pretty woman.”

Her Bodyguard, the second book in the series Romance and Rails, weaves suspense and history together in a tale of deceit, betrayal and the unfailing power of love.




Today, I’m giving away a $5 Amazon gift card. Just enter the raffle and leave a comment.


Did you see the eclipse yesterday? What did it look like in your part of the world?

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12/05/2016

Christmas Together: Bestselling authors E.E. Burke & Amanda McIntyre Team Up



The holidays bring people together and inspire romance. What better time for two bestselling authors to team up to bring you both!

This month, Amanda McIntyre and I have joined together to offer you a great price on our Christmas romances. For less than the cost of a cup of coffee, you can curl up by a crackling fire with Amanda's heart-warming story of an Irish immigrant and his son's first Christmas in America, and my #1 bestselling Christmas collection featuring a mail-order bride and a matchmaking experiment gone awry.

We're also offering readers the chance to win some great prizes in our special Christmas Romance Raffle. Our way of saying, "Thank you."

Brady McCormick made a promise to his young wife the day she died—to follow through with their plans to take their son to America and begin a new life in the land of opportunity. Now in New York, living in charity with a distant uncle, barely scraping by, Brady is unsure he will be able to uphold that promise, much less that he will ever be able to quell this loneliness eating him inside.

Saran Reichardt knows that she is unlike most women—headstrong, tenacious, she is dedicated to teaching, believing she has no need of a man to care for her, until an accidental encounter with a stormy-eyed Irish immigrant and his young son changes her perception of what need really is.

MEET AMANDA

Amanda McIntyre's passion is telling character-driven stories with a penchant for placing ordinary people placed in extraordinary situations. A member of RWA and bestselling author, her work is published internationally in print, E-book, and audio. She writes sizzling contemporary and erotic historical romance and believes no matter what, love will find a way.

E.E.: I've heard you were inspired by a poem and a painting. Can you tell us about that? 

Amanda: I’ve always had a passion for taking ordinary characters and placing them in extraordinary circumstances. Whether in my historical or my contemporary romance books, I love watching my characters become the heroes and heroines of their own stories. In THE PROMISE, I stretched back to my own roots of a Scottish-Irish heritage—Black Irish, my mother called it—and thought of what hope and dreams those living outside America might have had. What would it have been like to sail thousands of miles to a strange land, to come into that bay and see Lady Liberty and read the words at her feet written in 1883 by a native New Yorker, Emma Lazarus. 

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

- Emma Lazarus

Inspired too, by the painting called The Christmas Ship, the story of a young Irish immigrant who’d made a promise to his dying wife to bring their son to America and start a new life began to take shape. 

Set at Christmas in New York, it follows the struggles of Brady and his son as they adjust to the new land, and the unconventional woman the two meet by fate on the day of their arrival. Here is a sneak peek of that moment—

Excerpt from THE PROMISE~
The port authorities on Ellis Island detained them for hours, first holding them on the ship, then in boarded stalls, shuffled like cattle through registration. Next, they were taken to a special area where their hair and teeth were checked for lice or other abnormalities. Through it all, Brady believed his beloved Mary had watched over them. Much to Brady’s delight, authorities allowed them to retain the name of McCormick, as it was easy to spell. Yet many were forced to alter their names for ease of registration. He kept a firm grasp on Danny’s hand as they rounded the corner of the great brick building. A bitter wind assaulted him and nearly snatched his hat from his head. He had no idea what day it was, or what time, except that it was night. Small frozen pellets grazed his cheeks, falling from the inky black sky. Tears stung Brady’s eyes. "Aye, your ma would have loved this, Daniel. She’d have looked on it as a great adventure." He clamped his arm around his son’s neck and drew him to his side. "This is what she wanted most for you, Daniel."
"Is this what you wanted too, Da?"
His son’s bright blue eyes, the color of his mother’s, looked up at him in child-like wonder. How could he tell him that what he wished for most wasn’t possible? "It was a dream we shared, Daniel, and I shall to my last breath make it come true for you—for us.” 
Daniel stared at his father as though pondering his answer. He smiled, the way a child does when they know their parent is struggling inside.
"Where is Uncle Stephen?" Daniel asked, with ease changing the subject.
Brady regarded his son’s strength with pride. He swallowed back a lump in his throat and searched above the crowd for a man with a large sign. “He said he would meet us at the corner.” Brady scanned the sea of humanity huddled together, pressing forward against the bitter wind. Did they all have family waiting for them?
"Say here, chap. Can you retrieve our bags and take them to our carriage? It’s right over there."
Brady heard the man and pulled Daniel closer as he searched for Uncle Stephen. 
"Excuse me, young man, but I’m speaking to you."
Brady felt a tap on his shoulder and glanced back. “I’m sorry, I’m not a porter—
His weary gaze landed on the face of an angel who studied him with blue-violet eyes, the same color as her refined wool cape. For a moment, Brady lost his ability to think, much less to speak. He blinked, realizing he had been staring at her. His eyes darted to the elderly gentleman standing beside her.
"Father, it is clear that this gentleman and his son are not peddlers looking for work," she said, holding Brady spellbound with those eyes.
"My apologies." The older man tipped his derby and turned his attention to finding a dock porter.
"Have you just arrived in America?"
His angel regarded him with a pleasant smile.
Brady nodded automatically.
"Do you speak English?"
Her voice held the clarity of one accustomed to fine linens and expensive china.
A tug on his arm broke him from his odd trance. "My son and I have just arrived from Ireland—yes." As an afterthought, he tore the boy’s cap off his head and his own in one quick sweep, suddenly self-conscience about his thick brogue. The angel turned her attention to Daniel, her deep blue cape swirling as she leaned down to address him.
"And do you celebrate Christmas where you come from?"

On sale for 99 cents
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Victoria, Bride of Kansas (#1 Amazon Bestseller)
A lonely society miss travels a thousand miles to marry a suitor whose passionate letters won her heart. But the man she meets at the train station seems more like Scrooge.

Santa’s Mail-Order Bride
A well-intentioned matchmaker has plans for a scheming Santa that go awry with unexpected consequences. 

The Christmas Wish
In this short story, a young orphan who has never known love gets his Christmas wish.


E.E. BURKE
Weave together passionate romance and rich historical detail, add a dash of suspense, and you have books by bestselling author E.E. Burke. Her chosen settings are the American West, and her latest series, The Bride Train, features a cast of unusual characters thrown together through a misguided bride lottery. Over the years, she’s been a disc jockey, a journalist and an advertising executive, before finally getting around to living the dream--writing stories readers can get lost in.

Here's a brief excerpt from Santa's Mail-Order Bride

She tasted of peppermint and tea, a delicious combination, somehow sweet and seductive at the same time. Holding her tight, Sum sampled the flavor on her lips, which softened and parted beneath his. He longed to linger, to feast…but not here in front of a giggling dressmaker. He’d only intended a brief kiss, just enough to let her know what it could be like between them, as well as to make it clear to the rest of the world that he’d laid claim to her.
Regretfully, he lifted his mouth.
She blinked, looking dazed, and with a shocked gasp, stepped backwards, her cheeks flaming. “H-have you lost your mind?”
       Perhaps. Coming to a decision as important as marriage within a few days was madly spontaneous, even for him. He hoped he wouldn’t regret it, but at the moment he couldn’t dredge up one ounce of caution. 
       “Can’t Santa kiss his wife under the mistletoe?”

Amanda: What inspired you to write these stories, specifically?

E.E.: A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. My all-time favorite Christmas story. My books follow totally different plots (no ghosts), but the themes are similar. Themes that define the true meaning of Christmas: family ties, hope, faith, a spirit of compassion and generosity, and above all, love…the kind of love that shines through the darkness of our circumstances, even the darkness in our hearts.

Victoria, Bride of Kansas was part of an unprecedented project with 45 other authors, the American Mail-Order Brides series. For Victoria's story, my inspiration came from photos of real mail-order brides and an advertisement written by a shopkeeper.

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Santa’s Mail-Order Bride is the sequel to Victoria. I couldn’t let her meddling sister-in-law remain a spinster. Who better to pair her with than her brother's fiercest competitor?

The two books are set in the 1890s in Fort Scott, Kansas, and feature characters from my first novel, Her Bodyguard (set 20 years earlier). 

I had so much fun learning about the history of this historical Western town and included some of the hardy pioneers who settled here. I hope through these books you’ll come to love Fort Scott as much as I do.

From both of us to you and yours, we wish you Merry Christmas and promise to bring you new romances in the coming year.

What do you wish for this Christmas? Any promises for the New Year?

Use the raffle widget below to enter our drawing for your chance to win a special Christmas Romance Raffle. 

- A Kindle Fire (U.S. residents only)
- Virtual Stocking (free eBooks from both authors)

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