It's been a long year and with a new year ahead, we here at Get Lost in a Story want to wish you hope, peace, faith and love this Valentines day!
As storytellers, our hope is in the potential and possibility of what can be, despite the difficulties and obstacles thrown in the paths of our characters. In real life, we know its not always as easy and we recognize that part as well.
So as we celebrate a fresh new year, lets our hearts be washed anew with hope, with the promise of better things--especially the gratitude of little things--laughter, family, friends, kindness, the earth's beauty (and our ability to preserve it!)
HAPPY VALENTINES Week from the GLIAS CREW!!
From Amanda ~
From E.E ~
From Lizbeth ~
From Jacqui ~
From C.H. ~
From Angi ~
We encourage you to perform random acts of kindness this month and share them on post here. Let's make those good vibrations felt for all of us worldwide!
This week, enjoy four seasonal romances in the Brides of Noelle series for less than the price of a latte! Today, we'll take a closer look at a St. Patrick's Day and a Christmas bride NORAH by Amanda McIntyre On sale for 99 cents this week only! Not proud of his seedy entanglements back East, Irish Immigrant Seamus (pronounced Shamus) Malone is determined to create a new and better life in the western frontier, but despite attempts to reach the woman that captured his heart, his letters for the last four years have gone unanswered. Will a plea for help from Noelle’s new matchmaker convince his estranged wife to join him in this new world, proving his love, and that he is a changed man? Passion (and a controlling aunt) drove Norah into marriage, but when she finds her new husband dabbling in drink and dangerous liaisons, she bid him farewell, relenting to his pipe dreams of a better life, while she remained behind living in the shame of a broken marriage. But when a dark truth is discovered she must now decide if the love she once felt is enough to survive a second chance in the New West? Here's an excerpt: Seamus blinked. “I’m sorry, what’d you say? What is it you’d be needing, Felice?” He looked away before God could strike him down for his thoughts. He forced them to Norah, how she’d looked at him the last night they were together. He turned his back to check the stock on the shelves and see what he and his new partner (at least in his mind) could afford to sell. He felt a hand slide down over his trousers. “What I need, Seamus Malone, is some of this fine, Irish—” “Whisky, Felice,” he said, taking her hand and dropping it at her side. She gave him a little pout, and then her face came alive in a bright smile as she batted her lashes above captivating blue eyes. Rumor was, she’d left her husband and child to find success in the theater. Given the woman’s flair for the dramatic, the fact that she’d not made it in show business puzzled the heck out of him. “I need something special, Seamus.” Her gaze took him in, head to foot. “Something that will set my place apart from all the other places on the row.” His gaze narrowed. “What’d you have in mind?” She twirled a corkscrew tendril around her finger. “One of my regulars who’s back in town working the mine was talking about a special homemade whisky you once sold to the miners.” “Is that so?” He eyed the petite woman. “Said it was the best he’d ever drank.” She cocked her head. “I don’t suppose you’d have of that famous whisky left, would you?” And there it was. Like a sign from above. Sure, it had some risk, but maybe the old family recipe of Norah’s grand-da should be resurrected. He’d set aside for years, not having the time, and working hard to set an example for his boss. He needed something that would raise money. Maybe a few bottles sold locally, a few glasses served slightly higher than the standard fare, let news travel, and create a demand. He mentally counted how many bottles he had tucked back in the storeroom off the kitchen. “It’s me private whisky, Felice. An old family recipe. Top o’ the line.” He gave her a wink. “It dunna come cheap.” She gave him a wry smile. “Neither do I, honey.” “How much you got?” he asked, already calculating how fast he could rebuild a new still, get more bottles, maybe have a fancy new label made to showcase his fine Irish-made whisky. Felice planted her hand on her hip and, with a sultry smile, tugged at the lace ribbon of her bodice. “More than enough for the likes of you, honey.” Seamus reached out and grabbed her wrist. “I mean, money. How much are you willing to pay?” he asked. Her beautiful face crumpled in a frown. He’d offended her. Seamus raised his brows, waiting. Business was business, and few in town understood that concept better than Felice. “Same as the liquor we’ve bought before?” She patted her hair and gave him a side glance. “Two bits.” “Two dollars.” Her plump little mouth dropped open. “Two dollars?” “Per bottle. This is a well-guarded family recipe, darlin’. And don’t tell me you don’t have that kind of money, Felice. We both know who makes the most money in this town next to Hardt.” She preened a little to that comment, then shrugged. Seamus was not to be detoured. “Further, you’ll be signing a contract exclusive to me and the Golden Nugget to purchase any and all liquor for your business.” He was thinking by the seat of his pants. She didn’t look convinced. “What’s in it for me?” she asked. “I tell you what, if you send me a new client, I’ll take a few bits off your next order.” “I should be livid with you, Seamus Malone. Why, what you propose is nothing but plain horse-thievin’. You never charged Madam Bonheur such prices.” “Madam Bonhuer never got any of my whisky,” Seamus said with his most charming smile. “Well, then,” she said stepping around the bar and pressing herself against him. “If I say yes, maybe together we might find a way to seal our little partnership. Maybe have a little fun?” She giggled as she slinked her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek. Seamus placed his hands on her shoulders, intent on pushing her away. He froze when he heard the sound of a man clearing his throat. “I’m sorry. Is this the Golden Nugget? The stagecoach experienced a bit of trouble and needed repair, which is why we’re late. It was suggested that here is where our traveling companion might find a Mr. Seamus Malone?” Seamus heard nothing of what the man said, his words like the drone of a beehive in the back of his brain. He stared at the trio standing in the middle of the saloon, unable to trust his eyes. “Norah? What in bloody blazes are you doing here?”
ROBYN by Jacqui Nelson On sale for 99 cents this week only! Who’s the perfect match for a flame-haired Welsh tomboy who loves driving wagons? Raised by three free-spirited older brothers, Robyn Llewellyn has learned to fight for what she wants—and now she wants to transform her boss and best friend, Max Peregrine, into a lifelong partner. Determined to become the image of what a marriage-minded man wants, Robyn trades her trousers for a dress and heads to Max’s hometown of Noelle, Colorado. But changing who she is with the help of the now happily married Brides of Noelle puts her friendship with Max at risk. Who’s the perfect match for a work-addicted Denver business owner who loves his independence? Defying his brother and grandpa’s wishes for him to stay with them in Noelle, Max Peregrine has created his dream job—leading a highly successful branch of Peregrines’ Post and Freight while working beside Robyn, the only person who makes him smile every day. But when she leaves without a word, Max follows her to Noelle where the choices they both must face could make it impossible for them to stay together beyond Christmas day. Here's an excerpt: Denver, Colorado — December 21, 1877 “She’s gone?” Max Peregrine shouted, disbelief then panic raising his voice to a roar. “Where?” Lined up shoulder to shoulder inside the Denver office of Peregrines’ Post and Freight, the three Llewellyn brothers studied him intently, not with surprise but curiosity. And something more. Something his careening thoughts couldn’t identify. Brynmor, the eldest by several years, heaved a sympathetic sounding sigh. “She’s—” “Fine,” Heddwyn interrupted, embracing his status as the swift-talking middle brother who needed to do everything quick, including driving freight wagons at breakneck speed. He shot his brothers a secretive glance. “Remember our plan. He sounds upset, but we need to know more.” “Stuff your plans!” Max threw down his pencil and stormed around the desk where he’d been working on his ledgers. He’d throttle his answers from Robyn’s brothers if need be. “Why—did—she—leave!?” Griffin, the youngest but also the largest, folded his arms over his barrel of a chest. “He sounds more than upset.” “Good.” Standing on either side of their flame-haired baby brother, Brynmor and Heddwyn spoke and nodded in unison, like matching musclebound bookends with the same auburn hair and sky-blue eyes. Except Bryn had one eye clouded white. Max had yet to learn why. The Llewellyns were fond of talk but notoriously unforthcoming on certain subjects. Like, at the moment, Robyn’s departure. “He’s regretting something,” Griffin added. Max froze. Leave it to Griff to pinpoint Max’s state of mind while never addressing his own. Griff’s hair color matched his sister’s, but his reputation as the Llewellyn sibling with a short fuse was his alone. “I regret”—he unlocked his clenched jaw and tried to speak normally—“that your sister might have put herself in jeopardy.” Heddwyn snorted. “Little Red can take care of herself.” “Hedd’s right. The wee one is all grown-up,” Bryn proclaimed with another sigh. “She’s as tough as she is beautiful.” Griff’s gaze narrowed, studying him even more keenly. “Or do you believe otherwise?” “I don’t,” Max muttered, thinking of Robyn’s lean strength, steely blue gaze, and stunning smile. A smile he’d been blessed to see every day since he moved to Denver. A smile he craved more than a miner coveted gold. A smile that had become increasingly melancholy of late. “Whatever’s wrong and wherever she’s gone, she needn’t be alone. I would’ve traveled with her.” “You sure ’bout that?” Hedd released a low whistle as he pointed at Max’s face. “Look! Dog Bone’s turning the same shade of red as Ruddy does when he’s near to exploding.” In Welsh, Griff meant ruddy, but that hothead remained poker-faced as he said, “We have eyes, Peaceful. No need telling us something we can plainly see.” Max’s entire body burned with outrage. Not because of the teasing titles the Llewellyns loved to dole out, for themselves and others. In Welsh, Heddwyn meant blessed peace, a constant source of ribbing for a man who had too much energy to stand still. Max had learned to look below the surface of their name tomfoolery after Robyn revealed her brothers called him Dog Bone because he never stopped gnawing problems into submission. He didn’t give up. A trait all of the Llewellyns found admirable. If they assigned you a name, even one you didn’t find flattering, it meant you’d earned their respect. They didn’t waste their time on people they didn’t like. Robyn’s explanation along with her easy smile had ended his dislike for long conversations. But only with her. They’d talked about everything after that, argued as much as they’d agreed, but always ended up smiling. No topic had been taboo, or so he thought. Why hadn’t she spoken to him before she left? And how could her brothers question his resolve, especially when it came to Robyn? Their lack of faith left him not only furious but frustrated and flummoxed. “If your sister asked, I’d have gone anywhere with her.” Bryn raised an eyebrow in challenge. “You said differently in the past.”
If you missed yesterday's post about the two Valentine's Day brides mentioned above, CLICK HERE.
We're running a contest this week for 4 FREE eBooks from E.E. Burke, Kit Morgan, Jacqui Nelson & Amanda McIntyre, and a $20 gift card. Five winners will be drawn on Monday, February 18. Leave a comment to be entered (and don't forget to leave your email so we can reach you). What was one of your favorite St. Patrick's Day or Christmas gifts, or one you'd like to receive?
Did you know? A single young woman started the Valentine's card industry? Esther Howland was a visionary artist and entrepreneur who began a gift card business by mass-marketing Valentine's cards in her home in the late 1840s. Esther cut the basic design for the individual valentines, and the assembled group carefully copied each card. Each young lady on the production line was assigned a special task; one cut out pictures and kept them assorted in boxes and another made the backgrounds, passing them to yet another worker who gave the card further embellishment. By the end of 1849 Esther Howland had fully launched her valentine business and perfected her “assembly line” technique. Ms. Howland reportedly inspected every valentine produced by the women in her family workroom. A bold woman with a plan is unstoppable! Let me introduce you to four bold women who answer a railroad advertisement and set out to become brides for settlers on the Western frontier...
I can think of no better day to give you a sneak peek at my new historical romance than on Valentine's Day. Seducing Susannah, Book 4, The Bride Train Series
The fourth book in The Bride Train series comes out March 14, 2017. This is the much anticipated story about two characters you’ve already met in the first three books: the enigmatic railroad agent, Ross Hardt, and a feisty widow, Susannah Braddock, who loves to hate him!
When all else fails, try seduction.
Ross Hardt needs to marry a proper lady in order to reclaim his inheritance. Among the few prospects in town is a smart, sassy widow who has tantalized him from the day they met–the same day she slapped his face.
Susannah Braddock journeyed west on The Bride Train in search of a good father for her young son, but on the lawless frontier few candidates meet her requirements–least of all the arrogant, demanding, unfeeling railroad agent.
As Fate--and Ross's scheming--draws them closer, Susannah glimpses surprising tenderness beneath her suitor's harsh exterior, and is tempted by the fiery passion that flares between them. But when a secret comes out that threatens their budding relationship, passion isn't enough. Only love can weather the oncoming storm.
"Why did you come out here, Mrs. Braddock?” Ross asked.
She lifted her chin, her
eyes flashed with anger, and a challenge. “For one reason--to find an honorable
man who would be a good father to my son. That is still my goal, but I won’t be
forced into a bad marriage. If you refuse me the time I need, I will somehow come
up with the money to repay the railroad.”
Hannah help him, she was
magnificent. She had more grit than most men. Even her stubbornness was to be
admired. In addition being beautiful, she was also loyal to her friends and kind
to everyone—with one exception, and he couldn’t blame her for resenting him,
despite the fact that he was only doing his job.
“Can you come up with the
money in two weeks?” He hoped she had a plan.
Her stricken expression gave
him the answer. “What will you do if I can’t?”
The question stumped him. He
hadn’t imagined it would come to that. He’d thought she would surrender and he
wouldn’t have to finish the battle
Ross moved to the desk to
give himself time to come up with a reply. If he did nothing, it would make him
appear weak and ineffectual, and a useless figurehead was exactly what the
hotheads needed to convert more men to their cause in opposing the railroad.
His other choice was to take her to court. That would make him look like a
bully, and turn his few supporters against him. Not only that, he had no
stomach for treating ladies like criminals.
He picked up his father’s
letter. There was another option. He could pay back the money she owed the
railroad. In part, it would make up for how he’d treated her earlier, but it
would also free her to consider other men—him, for example.
She’d as soon spit on him as
take his charity, and he hadn’t yet earned the right to woo her.
On the other hand, if he
could win her, he would be able to take a wife home to Texas. He wasn’t
marrying to please his father, but the old man would have no objection to a
lady like Susannah.
“Mr. Hardt, before you decide
on a course of action consider the fact that I have a young son.” Her tone
wasn’t pleading—she wouldn’t beg, not her—but he could sense her desperation.
That might work in his favor.
“Yes ma’am. I’m aware of
that.” He turned to face her. Two weeks, that’s all he had. He’d set the
deadline and had to stick to it. How could he free her from her obligation to
become one of the settlers’ brides, and at the same time, keep her close enough
to woo her?
Offer a chance to
earn her freedom. Susannah would be far more amenable to a discussion of marriage if
not forced to make the decision. He understood that about her, he felt much
the same way.
“Is your handwriting legible?”
Her angry frown dissolved
into puzzlement.“My handwriting is
exemplary. Why do you ask?”
“You might be interested in a
job. Pays enough to cover your fare and expenses.”
Her woeful expression changed
to one of hopefulness, making her appear younger and achingly innocent. An
illusion. She’d been married and had borne a son, so she was hardly innocent. His
deceitful former intended had feigned innocence and turned out to be a whore. Susannah was nothing like Olivia. She didn’t put on airs, didn’t pretend feelings she didn’t have. He could expect honesty from her--the
most important quality in a wife.
“What is this job? When can I
start?” She took a step in his direction, no longer wringing her hands,
appearing willing, even eager, to work her way out of her predicament—just as
he’d expected.
“You can start right now…as my assistant.”
To celebrate this new release, I'm running a Valentine’s Special on Valentine's Rose, Book 1, in The Bride Train series. Buy it for only 99 cents (normally $2.99).
Enter a Valentine’s drawing for a chance to win artisan chocolates from Christopher Elbow (my favorite local Kansas City chocolate artist), or a copy of Valentine's Rose.
Do you have a romantic Valentine's memory you can share?
The first book in my series The Bride Train features an English aristocrat named
Valentine. It wasn't by accident that I chose the name. Releasing a book around Valentine's Day might've had something to do with it. I wondered where the name had come from, and in researching the origins, conceived a story about a man who sets out on a journey to live up to his name.
The surname Valentine is a
very old, distinguished Anglo-Saxon name, and my hero, Constantine Valentine,
is a second son of one England’s noblest families.
In the late nineteenth century, a number of aristocratic families sent their sons to America to
toughen them up, and in hopes that they might make their fortunes, or at least
make something meaningful out of their lives.
Val sails to America after losing
his inheritance and embarrassing his family with his flagrant lifestyle. He
hopes to regain his fortune and return home to repair his tarnished reputation.
What's in a name?
Valentine comes from a Latin
name Valentinus, from the root word valens, which means
strong and healthy. The word “valor” comes from this root.
Indeed, Val is very
strong man. He stands six feet-six inches, which in his day meant he towered
over other men. He’s also strong willed. But even a strong man is bound to have
a weakness. In Val’s case, he suffers from what we know today as Attention
Deficit Disorder. Being misunderstood and ridiculed for his impetuous nature
has a devastating impact on his life, and it takes a special woman with a great capacity
for love to help Val overcome his past.
Meet Valentine's Rose
Rose Muldoon, an Irish laundress, grew up in Five Points, a crime-ridden slum in New York City that housed a large Irish immigrant population.After tragedy strikes, Rose signs on with The Bride Train, and heads west to replace what she's lost. Val’s aristocratic
background as far from her world as the sun is from the moon, but Rose is
determined and knows what it means to fight for what’s important, things like family and love.
I won’t spoil the story by telling you how Rose and Val end
up together, but I will say these characters discover things in each other,
and themselves, that make them a surprisingly well-suited couple. It just
takes awhile for Val to realize this.
I’m running a Valentine’s Special on this book through February 15. Buy it for only 99 cents (normally $2.99).
Tomorrow, I’ll give you a
sneak peek at Book 4 in The Bride Train series, with a cover reveal and
exclusive excerpt.
Win a sweet treat!
Over the next two days, you
can enter a Valentine’s drawing for a chance to win artisan chocolates
from Christopher Elbow (my favorite local Kansas City chocolate artist), or a copy of Valentine's Rose.
Do you remember your first or favorite Valentine? It can be a card or a gift or a story.
