Musings from a Writer’s Brain—Reality or Make-believe? by Amy R Anguish

Tags

Amy R Anguish, characterization tips, Musings from a Writer's Brain, No Place like Home, Sweet romance, writing tips

Reality or Make-believe?

My t-shirt reads, “Careful or I’ll put you in my novel.” It usually gets a laugh. I have a mug that says something similar. Maybe if I wrote suspense, it would be intimidating even. But I write romance.

Still, every now and then, I have to be careful to make sure my characters aren’t too much like someone I know in real life. After all, if I base one on someone I love and they feel I did it wrong, that could lead to awkward family dinners in the future. Right?

Needless to say, when I set out to write my latest novel, based on what “could have been” my life if I’d made different choices, I knew my character also needed to be a preacher’s daughter. I wanted her history to be a lot like mine. But what to do about her dad.

My dad is my biggest fan. He’s the one I can talk to for over an hour and never run out of things to say. Growing up, if I needed to vent or talk through something, his office was where I went. I’m a daddy’s girl through-and-through, probably why I don’t mind that my daughter is one, too. I get it.

But to make my preacher dad character in my book just like my dad wasn’t going to completely work. Because my character Adrian is estranged from God … and her dad. And her dad isn’t sure how to talk to her without making things worse.

My dad still has a full head of silvery-white hair. It’s gorgeous, honestly. And a beard and mustache—he’s had the mustache as long as I can remember. In my book, the dad is balding and clean-shaven. There’s a few things to differentiate the dads.

But then, some similarities snuck in even without my meaning them to. His office with a rather untidy desk full of papers and books, shelves loaded down with research volumes. His tendency to walk over to the small church building just down the block on a Saturday evening so he can adjust the temperature to be comfortable on Sunday morning. The way he rises super early on Sunday so he can study over his lesson again and make sure he remembers everything he wants to say. Those are all my dad.

Maybe it’s harder than I thought to keep my characters from having at least a few characteristics of people I love in real life. I’m sure the heroes all have a bit of my husband in them. Because how can I write someone to fall in love with without basing it on someone I love? And I know the heroines all have some of me. It would be impossible to not give them at least a little of my sense of humor or favorites things (like snickerdoodles and old movies).

Perhaps I worry too much about how much reality creeps into my books. Maybe instead, I should simply write what is put on my heart and let my readers guess about what is based on real life and what is simply made up.

Do you ever wonder how much an author includes from her own life in her stories?

Check out Amy’s newest release No Place Like Home

No Place Like Home

by Amy R Anguish

Can love secure Adrian’s wandering heart?

Roots are overrated, at least to someone like Adrian Stewart, preacher’s kid, who has never lived anywhere longer than six years. That’s why her job with MidUSLogIn is so perfect for her—lots of travel and staying nowhere long enough to have it feel like home. But when work takes her to Memphis, TN, closer to her family for the first time in years, and in the same small office as Grayson Roberts, she starts to question her job, her lack of home, and even her memories of her rocky past with the church.

Gray is intrigued by Adrian from the moment he sees her, and he’s determined to get to the bottom of why this girl who loves old movies and hums when she works won’t go to church with him. As they grow closer, he wants more, too, but how can he convince her to stay in Memphis when she doesn’t believe in home—or God? Can he use his own broken past to break through hers?

You can find No Place Like Home at Amazon

About the Author:

Amy R Anguish grew up a preacher’s kid, and in spite of having lived in seven different states that are all south of the Mason Dixon line, she is not a football fan. Currently, she resides in Tennessee with her husband, daughter, and son, and usually a bossy cat or two. Amy has an English degree from Freed-Hardeman University that she intends to use to glorify God, and she wants her stories to show that while Christians face real struggles, it can still work out for good.

Follow her at http://abitofanguish.weebly.com or http://www.facebook.com/amyanguishauthor

 Or https://twitter.com/amy_r_anguish

Learn more about her books at https://www.pinterest.com/msguish/my-books/ And check out the YouTube channel she does with two other authors, Once Upon a Page (https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCEiu-jq-KE-VMIjbtmGLbJA

Advertisement

Wednesday Writers—When Love Trusts by Judythe Morgan

Tags

Book excerpt from When Love Trusts, guest author, Judythe Morgan, Sweet romance, veteran hero, Wednesday Writers

Welcome to Wednesday Writers! Today’s guest is Judythe Morgan who is sharing an excerpt from her book When Love Trusts, Book 4 in the Fitzpatrick Family Series. Welcome, Judythe!

Last minute shopping like me? Readers on your list might like When Love Trusts. Josh and Mara are characters with grit and determination facing their real-life challenges with faith and conviction.

It’s book 4 in The Fitzpatrick Family Series: Eight Preacher Kids Each with a Sweet Love Story of their own. A heartwarming story of love, redemption, and second chances and perfect gift or personal read in this season when we celebrate the birth of our redemption.

PS: Each story in the series is a standalone novel with family members making cameo appearances in all.

PSS: Have a Merry Christmas and a blessed New Year!

When Love Trusts

By Judythe Morgan

Growing up together in a small Texas town, Josh Fitzpatrick and Mara Burke always had each other’s backs, right up until Mara dated—then dumped—his best friend. A relationship built on love and trust… until it wasn’t.

Now, an Army sniper home on medical leave, Josh’s wounds go deeper than the shrapnel dug from his thigh. Nightmares torment him. No one knows he’s responsible for a senseless tragedy and the death of his fellow soldiers. While his body recovers, he wrestles with guilt and waits for news of possible disciplinary action.

Mara’s a single mom and administrator at a home for boys, still hiding the terrible secret that created the ten-year chasm between them.

When the boy’s home needs volunteers after a fire, Josh steps in. The sparks from their youth soon ignite a new passion, but will sharing their secrets be enough to overcome the pain and hurt that lies between them?

EXCERPT:

Nick, Sara’s groom, gave Josh the thumbs up. “Loved the victory sign. Now you have to put both those garters on Mara’s leg.”

Josh frowned. “You’re joking.”

“Wedding tradition,” the twins said in unison.

Ethan grasped his shoulder. “Don’t even attempt to protest. Believe me, Nick and I have objected more than once about something and failed.”

Nick winked. “Oh, and there will be pictures.”

The girls nodded with impish smiles. Sammy chuckled. “Get ready, bro. Faith’s bringing Mara this way.”

Josh’s skin prickled. He rubbed his forehead. Too many people, too much noise, and way too much of Mara Burke. The pain and his memories made for an unsettling knot in his gut.

Mara stopped in front of him. The expression on her face said she was no more thrilled than he was. His cheeks screamed from the forced smile. “Looks like we’re the winners today.”

~~

Mara accepted his extended hand. “I’m not sure winner is the correct word, but I know your sisters too well. Whether we want to or not, we’re doing this.”

Her years working at VA hospitals had fine-tuned her observation skills. Vets rarely shared what they felt. Body cues told more than words anyway. Josh’s temple veins pulsed a punishing beat and the way he kept rubbing his forehead announced he fought an oncoming migraine. She could only hope it wasn’t the start of a full-blown PTSD attack.

She slid into the wingback chair, raised her skirt to her knee, and then lifted her leg high.

Josh balanced against the chair’s arm and slid first one garter and then the other up her calf. The touch of his fingers sent funny little tingles up her leg.

 “Hold that pose.” The photographer fiddled with his camera, aiming this way and that, clicking away. “One more just in case. This time with the brides and grooms.” 

Mara watched Josh’s lips press together. His face flushed. He needed to sit and take the pressure off his wounded leg. Stubborn man, he was too embarrassed to say so.

“How about if I stand, this time?” she asked the photographer.

At the approving nod, she rose beside Josh, slid her arm around his waist, and raised her skirt to display the garters.

Josh’s ramrod-straight body vibrated as he cupped her to his shoulder, steadying himself.

“Too formal, stiff looking,” Becca complained. “Why doesn’t Josh sit with Mara on his lap?”

The look Josh shot his sister should have flattened her. Mara couldn’t argue with his aim.

“Sounds like a great idea to me,” the photographer agreed.

“Me, too.” Sarah moved behind the chair and patted the back.

“Come on, guys. Let’s get this over. I want to get to my honeymoon sometime today.” Ethan’s voice carried a touch of frustration.

Nodding, Nick guided Josh into the chair gingerly. Josh looked like he’d just been handed a death sentence.

Mara perched cautiously on his good leg, crossed hers, then raised the hem of her skirt to display the two blue garters. The feel of his muscular thigh beneath her hips brought an awareness she didn’t want. She braced her hand on the chair arm to take her weight off his leg.

He covered her hand with his. “It’s okay.”

Embarrassed, she nodded, still feeling the pressure of his hand on hers.

“Everyone smile. Josh. Mara. Look happy.” The photographer raised his camera. “Good one. Done.”

Mara hopped off Josh’s knee as though she’d been sitting on a bee. Even so, a lingering buzz worked its way through her body.

He stared for several uncomfortable seconds, an odd expression on his face. He’d been as affected as she had.

“That will probably be the best picture of the lot.” Faith broke the trance. “Now it’s birdseed time.”

“Think I’ll pass.” Josh pushed from the chair, leaned on his cane. “What about you, you going to throw bird food?”

Mara crinkled her nose and gave a shiver. “No, absolutely not. Birdseed gets in places it doesn’t belong.” She lifted her hem pointed to the garters. “Thanks for the souvenirs. If you change your mind about helping at the boys’ home, give me a call.”

He frowned.

“Think about it. You’re a preacher’s kid who became an Army Ranger. That’s hero stuff. The boys will love your stories.” One boy in particular.

Blackness coated his eyes. “I don’t think so.”

She’d seen that darkness in combat weary vets before. It spoke volumes.

You can find When Love Trusts at Amazon and Barnes & Noble

About the Author:

Judythe Morgan was an Army brat then Army wife. She’s traveled a lot of this world. She’s been a teacher, an antiques dealer, former mayor’s wife, and sometimes-church pianist. Her diverse experiences have made her life exciting, her main characters vivid, and her stories authentic and award-winning.

Sign up for her free newsletter at www.judythemorgan.com to keep up with her latest news and subscriber-only sneak peaks. Besides fiction, she writes a weekly blog at www.judythewriter.com 

Friend her on Facebook and Goodreads

Follow her on Twitter

A Writer’s Garden–Summer’s End by Catherine Castle

Tags

A Groom for Mama, A Writer's Garden, Autumn Sedum pictures, Catherine Castle, Garden blog, romantic comedy, Summer's End, Sweet romance

Welcome to A Writer’s Garden where writers who are gardeners or just love gardens will be sharing their garden and flower stories, as well as a bit about their writing. Today’s writer/gardener guest is me, Catherine Castle.

Today’s post will close out this season’s garden blog. I want to thank all my contributors and readers for being part of the blog this year.  I hope you’ve enjoyed reading the posts as much as we’ve enjoyed sharing our gardens with you.

I know fall is coming to my garden when I look out the breakfast nook window and see my autumn sedums changing color. All summer long they sit on the hillside with tiny while blooms that my husband calls little cauliflower heads on the tips of the stems. (you can just barely see the white tips on the bushes to the left of the white stick at the edge of the garden wall)

Then in late August the tiny heads begin to expand and turn pale pink.

Almost daily we see the flowering head change colors. From pale pink to dusty rose in early September.

and then in late September they go maroon.

In winter, if I leave the flowers on, they turn chocolate brown. 

I look forward to the two-month show of color every garden season. It reminds me that nothing is static in the garden, or in life. Things are always changing, and we have a choice to either accept the change or moan about it. As a gardener, I’ve learned to accept the seasons of nature, which helps me to accept the changes I face in life, because I realize there’s always a second chance to experience a renewal of what I know or discover something new and different on the horizon that will expand my experiences.

I’m anxiously awaiting next year’s garden and the surprises it brings–if I’m lucky enough to stay upright in 2022 and not break any more bones. I don’t need that surprise again! I hope to get my container veggie garden started next year. It was slated for this fall, but … life gave me a challenging change this year. Ah, well, there’s always next year.

Be sure to join us again in March or April 2022 for another year of A Writer’s Garden!

Happy gardening wherever you are!

Catherine

About the Writer/Gardener:

Multi-award-winning author Catherine Castle loves writing, reading, traveling, singing, theatre, and quilting. She’s a passionate gardener whose garden won a “Best Hillside Garden” award from the local gardening club. She writes sweet and inspirational romances and both of her books have won awards. You can find her award-winning books The Nun and the Narc and  A Groom for Mama on Amazon. Follow her on Twitter @AuthorCCastle, FB or her blog.

You can often see Catherine’s love of gardens in her books, and A Groom for Mama is no exception. In one scene, Mama, Jack, and Allison visit a rose garden, inspired by a garden tour Catherine and her husband took one summer.

Here’s the blurb for Catherine’s award-winning romantic comedy with a touch of drama,

A Groom for Mama. Available at Amazon and Barnes and Noble

A Groom for Mama

By Catherine Castle

Beverly Walters is dying, and before she goes she has one wish—to find a groom for her daughter. To get the deed done, Mama enlists the dating service of Jack Somerset, Allison’s former boyfriend.

The last thing corporate-climbing Allison wants is a husband. Furious with Mama’s meddling, and a bit more interested in Jack than she wants to admit, Allison agrees to the scheme as long as Mama promises to search for a cure for her terminal illness.

A cross-country trip from Nevada to Ohio ensues, with a string of disastrous dates along the way, as the trio hunts for treatment and A Groom for Mama.

Available at Amazon and Barnes and Noble

Wednesday Writers Christmas Reads–Grace-Brides of New Hope by Jo-Ann Roberts

Tags

book excerpt from Grace-Brides of New Hope, Christmas romance, clean romance, Grace-Brides of New Hope, historical Christmas romance, Jo-Ann Roberts, Wednesday Writers

Welcome to Wednesday Writers! Today’s guest author is Jo-Ann Roberts who will be sharing an excerpt from her Historical Romance Grace—Brides of New Hope. Welcome, Jo-Ann!

Grace-Brides of New Hope

By Jo-Ann Roberts

Widow Grace Donegan is no stranger to hardships. With winter coming on, and with the impending loss of her home as well as her job at the café in New Hope, Kansas, she has three options. Yet, she won’t give up her two children, refuses to join Miss Jennie’s girls at the Rhinestone Saloon, or condemn herself to a second loveless marriage. When an opportunity to save her home arises, she agrees, never imagining her salvation would arrive with a set of broad shoulders, a charming smile, a kind heart, and a pair of blue eyes making her wish for things long forgotten.

As skilled as he is with a gun, Pinkerton Agent Tripp Walker has spent the last ten years undercover, spying on Confederate informants, interrogating witnesses, and chasing outlaws. Sent to New Hope to infiltrate a gang of bank robbers, he intends to focus solely on his job. But when a woman with arresting hazel eyes flecked with gold and hair the color of summer wheat turns out to be the widow he’ll be boarding with, keeping his resolve may prove more difficult than tracking the elusive gang.

As Christmas approaches, will Grace accept Tripp’s offer of marriage just to save her home and give the children a father? Or is his proposal genuine, offering her a forever-kind-of-love? 

Excerpt:

Caleb pushed back his chair, heading for the tree. He chose a branch and slipped the loop through the needle-like leaves, just in front of a cluster of gray-blue berries. Grace joined him, looking for a spot to hang her ornament. When she bent down, her eye spotted something among the dense foliage which made her smile.

“Fiona, come look at this,” she called. As her daughter approached, Grace lifted and separated the branches.

“It’s a birdie’s nest,” Fiona breathed, a note of awe in her voice.

“Well, will you look at that,” Tripp said, hunkering down next to Fiona. He reached in, bringing the nest closer for Fiona’s inspection.

Fiona went up on her toes. “Where are all the baby birdies?”

“I guess they got old enough to fly away to start their own family, kinda like Mr. Tripp wants to do with us,” Caleb said, fingering the star he’d put on the tree.

Tripp looked up at Grace and reached for her hand. “You know, princess, there’s an old German tale which says if you find a bird nest in the tree you harvest for Christmas, you will have an entire year of health and happiness.” He squeezed her fingers tighter. “And that’s what I want with you and Caleb and your mama . . . but I want a whole lifetime of it.”

Caleb’s insight, as well as Tripp’s repeated confirmation he wanted to make them a family deepened Grace’s belief that marrying Tripp Walker would help lay to rest the ghosts of her past. When Grace was able to speak around the lump in her throat, she asked, “Is there more to the story?”

Tripp nodded. “At the very first Christmas, as the legend says, all the world’s birds burst into song when Jesus was born.”

“That’s a lovely story, Tripp,” Grace said, a wistful note in her voice. While she had no memories or stories of growing up in a loving family, Tripp’s youth had been shaped by the blending of his German ancestors and his stepfather’s Texas roots. A warm glow filled her heart knowing that when she married Tripp, Fiona and Caleb might benefit from this melding of love, faith, hard work, and commitment to family.

“Can I have the birdie’s nest?” Fiona lifted hopeful eyes to Grace then to Tripp.

Just as Grace started to object, Tripp’s gaze collided with hers, his unspoken warning taunting her. If you want the honey . . .

But it was Caleb who intuitively knew how to handle his sister. “I’ll make a deal with you, Fee. If we keep the nest in the tree like Mama and Mr. Tripp wants until Christmas then you and me will take it to the woods and leave it in another tree. That way maybe another mama bird might use it for her babies. What do you say?”

Fiona twisted her lips to one side and frowned, a sure sign to Grace she was pondering her brother’s suggestion.

“Deal!” she cried, thrusting her little hand towards her brother.

While Caleb just rolled his eyes, Grace and Tripped laughed aloud. “Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into, Tripp?”

Swinging Fiona into his arm, he gathered her close to his heart. “A lifetime of kisses and more love than any man could ever hope for.”

~ ~ ~

Want to read more? You can find  Grace-Brides of New Hope at Amazon

About the Author:

Born and raised in western Massachusetts, Jo-Ann Roberts was fascinated by America’s Old West  and always felt she was destined to travel on a wagon train following the Oregon Trail. With her love of history and reading, she began reading historical romance during high school and college. Victoria Holt, Jude Deveraux, and Roseanne Bittner were among her favorites. Influenced by her father, she fell in love with John Wayne, James Garner, and her all-time favorite, James Stewart and grew up watching Wagon Train, Bonanza and Rawhide.

A firm believer in HEA with a healthy dose of realism, Jo-Ann strives to give her readers a sweet historical romance while imparting carefully researched historical facts, personalities, and experiences relative to the time period. Her romances take her readers back to a simpler time to escape the stress of modern life by living in a small town where families and friends help one another find love and happiness.

When she isn’t creating believable plots and relatable heroes and heroines, Jo-Ann enjoys spending time with her husband, children and grandson. She also enjoys baking, quilting and eating way too much chocolate.

After 38 years in public education in Connecticut and Maryland, she’s now calls North Carolina home. She is the 2018 Winner (Historical Category) of NEORWA’s Cleveland Rocks Romance Contest. Her debut romance, Lessie-Brides of New Hope Book One, is a 2020 RONE Award Nominee.

Contact Links:  Website:  Facebook:   Instagram:  Newsletter:

A Writer’s Garden–Perfect Gifts by Sally Brandle

Tags

A Writer's Garden, clean romance, Garden blog, garden tools, historical romance, Sally Brandle

Welcome to A Writer’s Garden where writers who are gardeners or just love gardens will be sharing their garden and flower stories, as well as a bit about their writing. Today’s writer/gardener guest is Sally Brandle talking about garden gifts, the kind you use in the garden. Welcome, Sally!

My family knows my love of gardening and they respond with perfect gifts. Over the years I’ve received a swell pair of shovels from my youngest son, a garden cart, and endless tools. For my birthday in October this year, my two sons sourced a lite, battery powered chopper’s delight. I now can prune bushes without my shoulders complaining.

The Garden Claws were my husband’s idea. I don’t think my collection of ‘fingerless’ gloves are unique. Long nails aren’t the issue. The Claws are great for semi-detail weeding and are about $8 a pair. Rain has prevented my determination on durability. So far, they appear sturdy and my nails are clean!

My latest book, the enhanced memoir of a dear friend, launched in May. We self-published, so the garden took second place on the chore list this spring and summer. My guilt receded after a neighbor remarked on the beauty of the butterflies hovering over the flowering shrubs and blooms. I turned the ingrained weed-alert in my brain into choosing to notice what others appreciate—the beauty of the plants, how many birds, bees, and butterflies are present, and the peaceful setting. When I look out from the windows of my office with that thought in mind, I smile and realize how very blessed I am to steward and share this beautiful piece of earth.

• 

  Looking Down from sugar peas

• 

  Looking up from sugar peas

The young woman featured in my latest book, Sapphire Promise, is now 98 and no longer the avid gardener whom I met thirty years ago. When I tire of pulling weeds, I think to myself, “Iris would love to be doing this.” That mindset can change a task to a privilege most days. I must admit, I still find morning glory and horsetail to be garden enemies!

May all your plants prosper and your back stay strong!

About the Writer/Gardener:

I grew up gardening with Mom and never lost an admiration for nature’s colors, textures, and scents. Trying to convert our tiered, half-acre plot to be senior friendly presents an ongoing challenge. I try to intersperse gardening, riding, and writing.

My series of three books published by Soulmate Publishing are contemporary, clean, romantic suspense.

iSapphire Promise is a World War II inspirational memoir beginning in 1939 Batavia, Java, Indonesia. This is a clean old-fashioned romance.

Social Media Link:   www.Sallybrandle.com

Sapphire Promise

By Sally Brandle

Loyalty to family. Trusting instincts. The will to survive. These virtues are deeply embedded in a mature Dutch teenager, Annika Wolter. Her attributes prove useful as she navigates typical coming-of-age insecurities and a blossoming romance with a handsome lieutenant in 1939 Batavia, Java.

Nothing prepares her for the distress of Hitler’s attacks on European countries followed by Japan’s bombing of Pearl Harbor, toppling her idyllic life in the Dutch East Indies colonial society and separating her from the man she loves. Uplifting events from a true story showcase how determination, nursing basics, and language skills keep a young woman and her mother alive in the worst Japanese internment camp in the Pacific. If you admire clever women and unfailing love in a tropical wartime setting, you will be captivated by Sapphire Promise.

You can find Sapphire Promise on Amazon: and Barnes & Noble

Wednesday Writers Christmas Reads–Just In Time for Christmas by Davalynn Spencer

Tags

#lovingthecowboy, book excerpt from Just In Time For Christmas, Christmas reads, Davalynn Spencer, historical romance, Wednesday Writers

Welcome to Wednesday Writers Christmas Reads! Today’s guest author is Davalynn Spencer with an excerpt from her Historical Christmas Romance Just In Time for Christmas. So without further ado, let’s welcome Davalynn and get reading!

Just In Time for Christmas

by Davalynn Spencer

She’s seventeen with a ranch to run, a fear of heights, and a cowboy intent on stealing her heart. 

Abigale Millerton leaves a Denver girl’s school and returns to her grandparents’ high-country ranch to find the boy she’d grown up with not a boy any longer—and butting in on her challenge with local timber thieves. If he’d stop telling her what to do, they might get along. 

Seth Holt has loved Abigale since before he knew better. And now that she’s back in the high country, she’s still as bull-headed as ever. But Seth can match her, and he’s determined to keep her out of harm’s way and in his line of sight. Trouble is, he’d rather keep her in his arms. 

Excerpt: 

Autumn 1875 

The Catamounts, El Paso County, Colorado Territory 

The chair tipped beneath her boots. 

Abigale fanned her arms, fighting for balance in the barn’s drafty loft, but the chair tipped further. She dove into the hay pile, cringing as wood splintered on the barn floor twelve feet below. 

That was the second kitchen chair she’d lost in three days.  

Rolling to her back, she looked up at the leaky roof. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Pop had deliberately taken his shotgun to it. But she did know better. He’d been up in years, not out of his mind.  

A tear escaped and slid to her temple. If she hadn’t gone back to school after Mams passed last year, she could have helped him more, and he might not have worked himself underneath that marker in the family plot. 

She stood and brushed hay from her hair and clothes, then kicked the wooden boxes she’d stacked in the loft. Not exactly the most stable foundation for balancing a chair. 

None of her classes at Wolfe Hall had prepared her for patching a roof without the aid of a ladder, and she didn’t relish the thought of climbing up on top of the barn, ladder or no. The loft was full of summer hay, so she’d have feed enough for the horses and milk cow, but only if she could keep the snow out. 

And it’d soon be snowing by the foot, for the aspens had already turned. 

So did the irony. Pop had called her his Aspen-gal ever since he and Mams took her in as an orphaned six-year-old. 

“Just a few letters difference is all, for a pretty little gal with yella hair,” he’d said. 

His nickname had changed everything. 

As sure as the white-barked trees slipped from green to shimmering gold each fall, a timid, lonely child transformed into one who believed she could do anything she set her mind to. 

Unless it involved heights. 

Slowly descending the makeshift ladder nailed to the barn wall, she studied the rungs and how they were spaced. Why couldn’t she build one just like it on the outside of the barn, a rung at a time? It might be safer than her balancing act in the loft, and less costly. She had only two kitchen chairs left. 

Below her, Chester yapped and wagged his encouragement. Not that she saw him. She simply knew that his happy bark meant a fanning tail. Looking down made things worse. If she didn’t look down, she didn’t have to think about how high up she was. 

As the box stalls rose into her peripheral vision, she chanced a peek. Sure enough, Chester’s feathery tail swept the air. 

“Good boy.” She stepped to blessed terra firma and rubbed the dog’s russet-colored back. “What would I do without your encouragement?” 

Pieces of broken chair lay scattered around her, as well as the fallen board she’d tried to nail on the underside of the roof, and she tossed them on a heap of scrap lumber in Pop’s work room. A neat stack of shingles from the Windsor lumber mill waited for her to be reasonable and use them to replace those that had blown off or worn through. But that meant nailing them on from the outside. 

As always, Pop’s intentions had been good. But this time they simply came too late. 

A shelf along one wall held most of his tools, aside from those that hung from nails above. Leather punches, awls, hammers, a saw. Everything looked just as he’d left it, as if he’d walk in the door any minute and ask what she was doing. Sinking into her memories of the tall, robust man, she smelled the pipe smoke that clung to his plaid wool shirts. Saw the crinkles at the corners of his laughing eyes, the shock of white hair that helped her spot him from a distance if he wasn’t wearing his old brown hat.  

It hung from a nail by a spare harness collar and she plopped it on her head. Fitting as poorly as ever, it made her feel like Pop was nearby, encouraging her on like Chester. It made her feel less lonely. 

Rather than return to the loft for the hammer she’d left behind, she chose another one from Pop’s collection, shoved it in the belt holding up his trousers, and pocketed a handful of nails. After arming herself with several shorter pieces from the scrap pile, she cinched her determination, and marched out to the mountain side of the barn. 

Chester followed. 

“This is a simple task—hold the board against the barn and drive a nail in each end.” 

The dog dropped to his haunches as if expecting a show. 

Abigale inspected the wooden siding, chose a narrow section between two vertical boards that created a shallow space, and nailed the first slat across it at knee height. The second one she hammered in level with her waist, and the third one she set even with her shoulders. Pleased with her work so far, she tugged on the rungs, testing their hold. 

So far so good. 

Craning her head back, she looked up. Way up past the barn into the gray-bellied clouds. 

With her fingers clenched like a corset around the slats, she shut her eyes, climbed up to the second rung and back down. 

Chester barked. 

“Thank you. Now if you’ll just follow me up, you can carry a shingle in your mouth.” 

And it would take her a month to patch the roof. That would never do, for snow was sure to fly tonight. Besides, Chester didn’t climb ladders. But she could rig a rope pully and haul the shingles that way. Or fashion a sling across her back and carry them with her. Wouldn’t Miss Butterfield be impressed with her ingenuity? 

Abigale snorted—a most unladylike habit she’d been temporarily shamed out of by the Wolfe Hall head mistress. But up here in the high country where the air was crisp and bracing, and the gun-metal sky so low she could touch it, such a rebellious gesture felt somehow liberating. 

She mustered her nerve by considering the three mouths she had to feed that now grazed on winter-dry grass in the near pasture. Clearly, no one had felt compelled to take a couple of old horses and Ernestine home for the winter. You’d think someone would have fetched them, someone like the Holts from the next ranch over. 

Memories flickered by, all the hours she’d tagged along with their son Seth. But what would he want with a couple of broken-down saddle horses and a dry cow? 

Chester, on the other hand, still had a few good years in him. At the funeral, Pastor Meeks had agreed to take him home. Maybe the old dog had come back of his own accord. 

Like she had. 

She gathered more slat-like pieces from the scrap pile, slid them into her belt, and started up the so-called ladder. 

A snowflake landed on her nose. 

Nooo, not yet! 

A drumroll tumbled, but she refused to look at the peak rising behind her. She’d witnessed thundersnow once as a child, a phenomenon that Pop said required precise conditions to occur. She didn’t need those precise conditions now. She needed to patch the roof and preserve the hay. 

Pressed close as she was against the outside of the barn, she couldn’t see the wide park spreading out to the east, but she sensed the gathering storm and felt the cloud ceiling drop even lower. 

Ignoring the next few flakes, she extended her ladder by three more slats, inspiring perseverance. She stepped up on one slat with another at waist level, appreciating the semblance of security. With wooden piece in hand against the barn’s side, she set a nail at one end, and pounded it in. Emboldened by the minute, she finished another set of three and climbed up to start on the next, and then the next. 

A thunderous crash set the barn trembling, and she flinched. The hammer slipped from her hand, her fingers from the rung, and her heart lurched to her throat as bottomless space opened beneath her. 

Want to read more? You can find Just In Time for Christmas at Amazon

About the Author:

Bestselling author and Will Rogers Gold Medallion winner for Inspirational Western Fiction, Davalynn Spencer writes Western romance set along the Front Range of Colorado’s Rocky Mountains. She is the wife and mother of professional rodeo bullfighters and an award-winning rodeo journalist and former crime-beat reporter who can’t stop #lovingthecowboy. When she’s not writing Western romance, she teaches writing workshops, speaks for special events, plays piano on her church worship team, and wrangles feline mouse detectors Annie and Oakley. Connect with her at www.davalynnspencer.com

Links: Free Book and Quarterly Author Update:  Website: BookBub   Goodreads: 

Wednesday Writers Christmas Reads– Christmas Love Through the Ages with author Gail Kittleson

Tags

book excerpt from Christmas Love Through the Ages, Christmas Anthology, Christmas Love Through the Ages, Christmas reads, clean romance, Gail Kittleson, Goldmine Christmas, Wednesday Writers

Welcome to Wednesday Writers Christmas Reads! Today’s guest is Gail Kittleson who is highlighting a delightful Christmas Anthology called Christmas Love Through the Ages. I don’t know about you, but I love Christmas stories, and movies, and, well, anything Christmas. So let’s welcome Gail as she tells us a bit about this unique anthology and then she’ll share an excerpt from her story in the anthology . Welcome, Gail!

Thanks, Catherine.

Ready to get into the Christmas spirit?

Light the Yule log in your fireplace, grab a snuggly blanket and a mug of hot chocolate, and settle in for a long winter’s read of stories celebrating the season.

This festive collection honors your beloved traditions, reminds you of your moorings, and warms your heart. The authors include short stories and novellas that take you on a journey from the 19th century to today. You’ll travel from Bethlehem with the angel Gabriel to Korea with abandoned orphans, then back to the Midwest where you see old friends fall in love and new loves become best friends, then to Texas where you witness acts of selflessness in an airport.

Lena Nelson Dooley, Lisa Bell, Gail Kittleson, Cleo Lampos, and Paula Peckham offer these tales to you during this wonderful season of hope and possibility.

Welcome to Christmas Love Through the Ages.

And here’s an excerpt from my book in the collection Goldmine Christmas

Excerpt from Goldmine Christmas

By Gail Kittleson

The flashlight flickered. “Oh, drat, just a paragraph left.” The fickle mechanism finally obeyed Nel’s prodding, and the final sentences of Aunt Eileen’s letter invaded her consciousness.

This could be your opportunity to make a difference for the war effort, and to follow your own star. You would make a superb USO volunteer, and my friend says you would be welcome to stay with her parents.

Just think of it! Thousands of GIs from all over the States pass through the USOs Washington, D.C. each day, and they can get awfully homesick. A cheery word can mean so much.

What do you say? Hop on the bus and we can take the train out there together. I will await your response.

As ever,

Eileen

P.S. You have done your time with your family, dearie. You’re nearly twenty-two and deserve a life beyond Payson.

Aware of the wind strengthening, Nel stashed the letter in her sweater pocket and hurried to the house. All was quiet, with Linda still hard at work—that girl would make something of herself, for sure.

Pulling on her nightgown and settling into her corner refuge, a narrow mattress in the kitchen’s far corner, that dreadful sound still prevailed.

Slap…bang…slap… Blasted shutters. Ah well, she couldn’t sleep anyway, with visions of the nation’s Capitol dancing through her mind.

Picturing Aunt Eileen handing out donuts and steaming cups of coffee, chatting with the fellows and giving them a taste of home was easy. She’d always been so strong.

But visualizing herself in a great metropolis created quite the challenge. The very thought led to a perennial question: How on earth had Eileen and Mama ended up such opposites? Mama cared about one thing—pleasing Dad. And all he cared about was the Gold Mine Saloon and drinking.

Want to read more? You can find Goldmine Christmas and the other Christmas stories on Amazon

About the Author:

A former college writing instructor, Gail lives with her retired Army chaplain husband in Northern Iowa and writes Women’s Historical Fiction, memoir and non-fiction. She enjoys grandchildren, gardening, and learning about history. In winter, she writes from Arizona’s beautiful Mogollon Rim Country.

No matter how dire the circumstances, you can count on Gail’s make-do World War II characters to discover new strength and move forward under duress. Facilitating writing workshops and retreats provides Gail’s “teaching fix” and a chance to cheer on other writers. 

Follow Gail on social media at:

Gail Kittleson: Facebook: Twitter @GailGkittleson: @gailkittlesonauthor (Instagram)

A Writer’s Garden–A Cottage Garden from Gail Kittleson

Tags

A Writer's Garden, cottage gardens, flowers, Gail Kittleson, WWII romance

Welcome to A Writer’s Garden where writers who are gardeners or just love gardens will be sharing their garden and flower stories, as well as a bit about their writing. Today’s writer/gardener guest is Gail Kittleson, talking about her cottage garden. Welcome, Gail!

It’s been interesting watching our cottage garden grow this year, especially since the hero of my novel-in-progress was growing one, too. 

A Nineteenth Century British woman, Clare Lucas Balfour, wrote:

“What a desolate place would be a world without a flower! It would be a face without a smile, a feast without a welcome. Are not flowers the stars of the earth, and are not the stars our flowers of heaven?” Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Political (1917)

What would the heavens be without stars? And we might echo this thought concerning the earth and flowers. The beauty stars and flowers bring to our world, though, cannot be measured in exactness.

            How often did glancing out the window at our cottage garden warm my heart this summer? How many times have your spring or summer or fall flowers lightened yours?

          I could add a few pages of quotes here—but this one from Joseph Addison will do. “There is nothing that makes its way more directly to the soul than beauty.”

When we’re really down, we need encouragement in the worst way. Sometimes we can barely hold our head up, and things like flowers and stars can make an enormous difference. The fictional hero who spent the summer with me knew this because he’d grown up with his grandfather’s garden.

And his grandfather patterned his gardens after…drum roll…writers! Check out the cottage gardens of Thomas Hardy and Beatrix Potter!

About the Writer/Gardener:

Gardening “grew” on Gail Kittleson, who writes World War II fiction. She’s always dabbled, but having lived long enough to see the consequences of planting a sprout or seedling, now spends more time thinking through her gardening decisions. Since victory gardens became so vital during the Forties, they play a role in several of Gail’s novels.

Follow Gail on social media at:

Gail Kittleson: Facebook: Twitter @GailGkittleson: @gailkittlesonauthor (Instagram)

You can check out Gail’s books on Amazon

Land That I Love

by Gail Kitteson

Set in the German Hill Country of Texas during World War II, Land That I Love is a sweeping literary novel of love and loss; friendship and animosity; fathers and sons; and coping during times of war and peace. Yet it is more than a love story. It is about the racism and bigotry that still exist in our world. As author Gail Kittleson’s characters struggle with the problems of everyday life, they teach us that we survive hard times by being good neighbors despite our differences and that hatred can be conquered by love, understanding and forgiveness.

Wednesday Writers–Wounded Heart by Colleen Hall

Tags

book excerpt, Colleen Hall, Inspirational historical romance, Native American History, Wednesday Writers, western romance, Wounded Heart

Welcome to Wednesday Writers! Today’s guest is Colleen Hall, author of the Inspirational Historical Romance Wounded Heart. Colleen is sharing some of the research she discovered while writing this sweet romance. She’s also included an excerpt from the book. Welcome, Colleen!

Thanks, Catherine.

While doing research for Wounded Heart, I learned that life in the West during the Indian Wars was complex. During that time the possibility of white women being captured by the tribes was a reality, and my research unearthed a wealth of information on the topic. The subject fascinated me, and I felt that it deserved recognition, so I decided to explore that scenario in my story.

Not all of the tribes treated their white female captives the same. A female captive could expect to be raped, often multiple times. Some women experienced horrific violence, while others were met with kindness. Some white women were kidnapped to replace a Native American family member who had been killed by white men and were adopted into the family in place of the dead relative. Other white captives married into the tribes and had families while adopting the tribal culture. Sometimes the women were considered to be slaves.

In white society, husbands admonished their wives to reserve the last bullet for herself to prevent capture. For white women, taking their own lives to prevent a “fate worse than death” was considered the decent thing to do. Submitting to a Native American man put a white woman in the same category as a prostitute. Although not all communities adopted such a censorious attitude toward rescued white women, the Victorian sentiment that a decent woman would take her life before submitting to a Native American man pervaded the West. Women who were recovered from captivity usually had difficulty assimilating back into white society. Many never made the adjustment, and some ran away to return to their Indian husbands.

Shane’s mother is a composite of all the captured white women whom I learned about in my research. I felt that her story should be told. Della’s experience as a captive in the Cheyenne camp tainted her in the eyes of many white people. I enjoyed portraying her fighting spirit to overcome the stigma.

Wounded Heart

By Colleen Hall

            Della Hughes longs for adventure and for freedom from the strictness and austerity of 1870s Boston society. When her uncle and guardian, General Clint Logan, uses his fortune to purchase property in Colorado and set up a horse ranch selling remounts to the western army, Della decides she must accompany him and his family to the West. Along the journey, Della encounters more adventure than she bargained for.

            Rustlers, Indians, and rattlesnakes add danger to the trek. A persistent cavalry captain who believes that Della would make him the perfect wife and a Cheyenne chieftain’s son who tells her she’s brought sunshine to his heart complicate her life. And the handsome army scout who ramrods their wagon train guards a secret from his past that makes him believe that he’s not worthy of loving Della. She must meet the challenges of the West and convince the man of her heart that love is worth risking everything to gain.

EXCERPT:

            An air of impenetrability settled over him. He appeared to have reached the limits of what he’d allow her to question. Still, Della’s curiosity prompted her to push for one more inquiry. “Mr. Hunter, I can’t help but wonder . . . why haven’t you married?”

            He swung his head toward her. “I’m not a marryin’ sort of man,” he said, his tone gentle.

            “Surely, you must want a wife and a family.”

            “Not all of us are so fortunate as to have such a blessin’. My life isn’t one that I can ask a woman to share.”

            “You do us women an injustice. Not every woman would shirk a life with you.”

            Hunter smiled, a regretful smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth and tugged at Della’s heart. “You’re very kind to say so, Miss Hughes, but you have no idea of what a life with me would entail. I can’t ask a woman to endure that sort of hardship.”

            Della shook her head and started to protest, but Hunter reached out and covered her lips with gentle fingers.

            “Shh . . . There are things about me you don’t know or understand that make it impossible for me to marry.” His hand dropped to his side.

            “But . . .”

            “No more questions. Just accept the fact that I can’t marry. I came to terms with my lot in life a long time ago.”

Want to read more? You can find Wounded Heart at Amazon

About the Author:

Colleen Hall wrote her first story in third grade and continued writing as a hobby all during her growing-up years. During her teaching days, she taught a high school writing class. In Wounded Heart, she was able to combine her love of writing with her love of history and the West. In her spare time, she enjoys spending time with her husband and family, horseback riding, reading, and browsing antique stores. She lives in South Carolina with her husband and family, one horse, and three very spoiled cats.

SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS:

Website: Facebook: Twitter

A Writer’s Garden–Hoping for a Harvest by Amy R. Anguish

Tags

A Writer's Garden, Amy R Anguish, Candy Cane Wishes and Saltwater Dreams, Christmas Anthology, Garden blog, Mistletoe Make-believe, vegetable garden

Welcome to A Writer’s Garden where writers who are gardeners or just love gardens will be sharing their garden and flower stories, as well as a bit about their writing. Today’s writer/gardener guest is Amy R. Anguish talking about the uncertainty of gardening. Welcome, Amy!

You Never Know

Every year, when we plant the seeds in our garden, we have no idea what the outcome will be. Obviously, we have our hopes and dreams of what will happen to those plants throughout the summer. But every year brings different weather, bugs, diseases, and sometimes just bad seeds.

Still, we poke the tiny seeds into the earth, give it lots of water and as much sunshine as God will send, and then wait.

Waiting is the hard part.

As the tiny green shoots poke their heads up, branching out and expanding, blossoming and growing, our hope grows right along with it. How can it not? The excitement of seeing those first little green tomatoes or tiny green beans comes every time.

This year, we picked around 40 pints of green beans, canning most, sharing some. We ate and ate tomatoes, as well as making several batches of salsa and spaghetti sauce. And we picked squash until we were all sick of it.

But as we watched and waited for the cucumbers, which last year came in abundance, nothing but disappointment grew. In fact, something destroyed the first two plants we had come up, and we had to replant. Twice.

Same with our pumpkins. And sunflowers.

• 

• 

Just about the time I was ready to give up on the watermelon, it stretched out and actually gave us a nice basketball-sized one.

And just when I had decided we would just settle for the cucumbers we’d gotten from friends, we got a nice big one, with more coming on. In late summer, no less. Only weeks from autumn.

My five-year-old was thrilled, to say the least.

You never know what you’re going to get when planting seeds, but isn’t it exciting when you do get something? Just like in everything in life, it’s always worth it to try. Even if you only get a few carrots from a whole pack of seeds. Those few carrots are always worth it to my children.

And most of the time, anything we’re willing to put a little effort into, will bring us at least a small harvest.

What have you tried that may not have turned out exactly as planned, but was still rather sweet?

About the Writer/Gardener:

Amy R Anguish

Author of An Unexpected Legacy, Faith and Hope, and Saving Grace

Amy R Anguish grew up a preacher’s kid, and in spite of having lived in seven different states that are all south of the Mason Dixon line, she is not a football fan. Currently, she resides in Tennessee with her husband, daughter, and son, and usually a bossy cat or two. Amy has an English degree from Freed-Hardeman University that she intends to use to glorify God, and she wants her stories to show that while Christians face real struggles, it can still work out for good.

Follow her at  her website Facebook  Or Twitter

Learn more about her books at https://www.pinterest.com/msguish/my-books/

And check out the YouTube channel she does with two other authors, Once Upon a Page (https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCEiu-jq-KE-VMIjbtmGLbJA)

Mistletoe Make-believe by Amy Anguish

(From the Christmas Anthology Candy Cane Wishes and Saltwater Dreams-a selection of five sweet beach read Christmas novellas)

Charlie Hill’s family thinks his daughter Hailey needs a mom—to the point they won’t get off his back until he finds her one. Desperate to be free from their nagging, he asks a stranger to pretend she’s his girlfriend during the holidays.

When romance author Samantha Arwine takes a working vacation to St. Simons Island over Christmas, she never dreamed she’d be involved in a real-life romance. Are the sparks between her and Charlie real? Or is it just her imagination?

Buy Link