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

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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:

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A Writer’s Garden–Perfect Gifts by Sally Brandle

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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.

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  Looking Down from sugar peas

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  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

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#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: 

A Writer’s Garden–Cherry Tomato Snacks from Emma Lane

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A Writer’s Garden, Cherry tomato appetizers, Cherry Tomatoes, Emma Lane, Garden blog, recipe, Regency Romance, The Duke and Miss Amabell Hawkins

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 Emma Lane who will be talking about cherry tomatoes and how she uses them on a snack cracker or for a quick summer meal. Welcome, Emma.

Inside Greenhouse Three there are vigorously growing hanging nursery pots of tomatoes. These are cherry tomatoes and they come in red or yellow. Medium-sized, these fruits of the vines are just ripe for popping into your mouth without a smidgeon of preparation. Don’t ask me how I know; I’ll never tell.

Hanging Baskets of Tumbling Toms go out of the greenhouse for sale around the first of May and disappear quickly. They may need to be brought in at night, but they are already in bloom with some tiny tomatoes showing. It’s a way to get a jump start on the season for a delicious tomato taste.

Lately I’ve learned to use them in several different ways that liven up a quickly thrown together summer meal. Below are a few ideas. You’ll spin off into your own vivid imagination, I’m certain, adding salads and main dishes. This is quick and easy fixing that leaves plenty of time to enjoy the sunshine outside.

Party Picks   Crackers of Choice

There are tons of choices for the bottom of your snack which will wind up being topped by half a cherry tomato. I like plain old saltine, but I do experiment with any and all of the offerings. I need to mention that a homemade loaf of bread makes a fantastic “cracker” cut into small squares. Also, just plain toast cut into squares works well.

Next the Spread

These are just a few of the spreads I’ve used:

(1) Canned potted ham (or a chicken spread) mixed with mayo or a touch of mustard. Occasionally I use a pear relish mixed in that is delish. Mix and spread on your crackers lightly. Don’t glob or your cracker will collapse. Still taste good, but not esthetically attractive so soggy.

(2) I’m mad for the whipped cream cheese. ‘Nuff said about that. It’s pretty simple to spread on your crackers. You can add any old spice that strikes you as interesting. I’ve used Season all Salt, cinnamon, Italian seasoning or just a piece of fresh basil. All good. If you use the basil leaf, add a swipe of creamed cheese to glue it to the cracker else it’ll slide right off.

(3) I’m wild for ricotta cheese, but hubby isn’t so we get to ‘decorate’ our crackers individually.

Meat?

Here I use whatever I’ve got in the kitchen. Sliced ham bits are lovely, a sprinkle of the sausage you had for breakfast is great, a bit of corned beef (just a bit because it’s strong), another cheese either cut to fit the cracker or shredded and sprinkled over. Like the crackers, cheeses come in a great assortment chosen to taste.

You’ll find your own preferences for thickness. Slice the cherry tomato in half or into four slices and top your masterpiece. Use a bit of spread to stick it if toppings tend to slide.

Now is the delicate operation that remains a mystery you might keep to yourself. A very small dot of “Zesty Italian Salad Dressing. Shake first and I promise you, you must use only a very small dot on top the tomato. Voila!

A plateful of these colorful snack crackers will disappear in a flash. Be sure you get your share. Enjoy!

ABOUT THE WRITER/GARDENER

Emma Lane is a gifted author who writes under several pen-names. She lives with her patient husband on several acres outside a typical American village in Western New York. Her day job is working with flowers at her son’s plant nursery. Look for information about writing and plants on her website . Leave a comment or a gardening question and put a smile on Emma’s face.

Stay connected to Emma on Facebook and Twitter

The Duke and Miss Amabell Hawkins

By Emma Lane

Can an arrogant duke overcome his prejudice against a beautiful but managing female in time to find true love and happiness?

Miss Amabel Hawkins acknowledges her unusual upbringing, but she thinks James Langley, the Duke of Westerton, might be a tad unbalanced when he protests her efforts to right his badly managed properties. The duke, who has been away on the king’s business, demonstrates no respect for the beautiful but managing Miss Hawkins. Amabel has taken refuge at Westerton, fleeing from a forced marriage to a man who claims to be her relative in order to gain control of her young brother’s estate.

The Duke arrives home to find his estate under the firm control of a beautiful but managing female. His suspicions are fueled by his recent task of spy-hunting and he wonders if Amabel Hawkins is just who she seems. While a dastardly spy lurks, a wicked man poses as her cousin threatening to take over the guardianship of her young brother. Amabel might be falling in love, but she knows for certain the duke would never approve of a meddlesome woman, and she decides to flee his estate. Will the duke finally realize the true value of the woman he loves or will his prejudice ruin his chances forever?

Available from Amazon

Wednesday Writers–The Price of Glory by Caroline Warfield

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archeological digs, book excerpt from The Price of Glory, Caroline Warfield, Egypt, historical romance, The Price of Glory, Wednesday Writers

Welcome to Wednesday Writers! Today’s guest is historical romance author Caroline Warfield with an excerpt of her early Victorian Historical Romance, The Price of Glory, set in Egypt 1839-1840. Personally, stories set in this time era and location have always fascinated me. I suppose it’s because as a teen I watched a lot of Hollywood movies with my mother that had to do with the archeological digs in Egypt. So, without any further rambling from me, lets welcome Caroline and get on with the reading of her book excerpt.

The Price of Glory

Richard Mallet comes to Egypt with dreams of academic glory. He will be the one to unravel the secrets of the ancient Kushite language. Armed with license to dig, he sets out for Meroë, where the Blue Nile meets the White. He has no room in his life for dalliance or entanglements, and he certainly doesn’t expect to face insurrection and unrest.

Analiese Cloutier seeks no glory—only the eradication of disease among the women and children of Khartoum. She has no interest whatsoever in romantic nonsense and will not allow notions about a lady’s proper role to interfere with her work. She doesn’t expect to have that work manipulated for political purposes.

Neither expects to be enchanted by the amorous power of moonlight in the ruins of Karnak, or to be forced to marry before they can escape revolution. Will their flight north take them safely to Cairo? If it does, can they build something real out of their shattered dreams?

Excerpt: the Journey Begins

The sight of Anastasie Cloutier climbing onto the boat caused Richard’s heart to stutter. When Bashkim introduced Dr. Navarre, he had referred vaguely to the rest of a medical party. Richard recalled Navarre from dinner with Cloutier Bey, but it never occurred to him the medical party might include Cloutier’s daughter.

A jolt of pleasure cut through him at the surprising turn of events, but the sight of her hakima garb boded ill for frivolity. ‘Medical Party’ sounded like business. For Anastasie Cloutier this would be no pleasure cruise.

We’ll have that in common then, he thought, rubbing his chin. At least the chances of interesting conversation during the journey have improved.

A thrill vibrated through him when the dahabiya finally began to move. He had come to one of those moments that divided a life between the time before and what happened after. Whatever the outcome, this moment marked a beginning.

He pushed away from the railing and headed in the direction of Anastasie Cloutier, eager to share his enthusiasm with someone, only to see a servant usher her and the woman with her behind the veils that marked off an enclosure.

“The women’s area,” Ahmed murmured, coming up the aft stairway to stand by Richard. He looked irritated. “Our gear is well packed, but a gang of boys has taken up residence at the end of the cargo barge. The little hooligans will cause mayhem.”

“Our men are there as well?”

“Of course. They know what to watch.”

He shrugged. “But eight weeks is a long time.” Dreadful thought. It almost upended his elation at being on his way at last. “Will it really take that long?”

“Allah permitting. Two thousand miles,” Ahmed said, raising an eyebrow at his employer. “Upriver. The wind will be with us, the current not.”

“Point taken. You did say you know how to play chess, did you not?” The two men grinned at each other in perfect accord. Khalil’s cousin had proven to be intelligent as well as efficient, educated as well as skilled. He promised to be an excellent tour guide as well.

Want to read more? You can find The Price of Glory  here:

About the Author

Award winning author Caroline Warfield has been many things: traveler, librarian, poet, raiser of children, bird watcher, Internet and Web services manager, conference speaker, indexer, tech writer, genealogist—even a nun. She reckons she is on at least her third act, happily working in an office surrounded by windows where she lets her characters lead her to adventures in England and the far-flung corners of the British Empire. She nudges them to explore the riskiest territory of all, the human heart.

You can find me on my website: 

Or follow me here: BookBub: Facebook: GoodReads:

Wednesday Writers–Wounded Heart by Colleen Hall

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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.

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A Writer’s Garden–What COVID Did for My Garden by Caroline Warfield

Tags

A Writer's Garden, Caroline Warfield, COVID garden, garden pictures, historical romance, Longwood Gardens, The Ahsmead Heirs, The Wayward Son

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 Caroline Warfield who is sharing the good things that COVID did for her garden. Welcome, Caroline!

Gardens are one thing; gardening is another. I generally say I love the first, but I’m not fond of the second, nor particularly skilled. Covid turned that on its head.  We could no longer plan visits to the public gardens we’ve known and loved—from Longwood near Philadelphia to Versailles and the Vatican Gardens. Worse, we had no way  to visit ones still on our bucket list, such as Kew. All we could do is stare at our own piece of earth. Perhaps that was a blessing.

The plantings across the front had to go first. At the very beginning of the pandemic, we hired a crew (masked and outside) to remove ugly yew bushes and plant flower beds. We thoroughly enjoyed the sequence of blooms all spring and summer. Four little plants, short and unassuming in the very back puzzled me. I didn’t recognize them and worried they were unrecognized weeds. They weren’t. Imagine my  delight this spring when they shot up  into glorious bloom—Foxgloves.

We spent weeks staring at sprawling patch of grass out back. We removed the dead and dying pines that lined the back lane, and planted four trees.

Charging into the second spring, we raised the vegetable patch three inches and  filled it with mushroom compost.

Then  we plunged into a tougher project, a flower border along our back patio. Removing sod  to create a new bed exhausted us, particularly when we realized the spot was heavily  clay. We learned about the uses of gypsum and hard work, but we did it. We used the rest of the compost, and lined the patio with  bee balm and other hummingbird-friendly flowering plants. I’m rather proud of it!

By then restrictions were lifting and a visit from a friend gave me an excuse to visit Longwood Gardens again. Next year it will be back to visits to great public gardens, but our own ground will be much the better for our year of Covid.

Book Two of The Ashmead Heirs has a pivotal scene in a rose garden… but that is a story for another time.

About  the Writer/Gardener:

Award winning author Caroline Warfield has been many things: traveler, librarian, poet, raiser of children, bird watcher, Internet and Web services manager, conference speaker, indexer, tech writer, genealogist—even a nun. She reckons she is on at least her third act, happily working in an office surrounded by windows where she lets her characters lead her to adventures in England and the far-flung corners of the British Empire. She nudges them to explore the riskiest territory of all, the human heart.

Connect with Caroline on her Website and Blog   Facebook    Twitter   YouTube                                            

The Ahsmead Heirs

About the Series

When the old Earl of Clarion leaves a will with bequests for all his children, legitimate and not, listing each and their mothers by name, he complicates the lives of many in the village of Ashmead. One of them grew believing he was the innkeeper’s son. He is the first of The Ashmead Heirs.

Book One: The Wayward Son

Sir Robert Benson’s life is in London. He fled Ashmead the day he discovered the man he thought was his father had lied to him, and the girl he loved was beyond his reach. Only a nameless plea from his sister—his half-sister—brings him back. He will not allow a ludicrous bequest from the earl who sired him turn him into a mockery of landed gentry. When a feisty little termagant with flashing eyes—and a musket—tries to turn Rob off the land—his land—he’s too amused and intrigued to turn away. But the longer he stays, the tighter the bonds that tie him to Ashmead become, strengthened by the powerful draw of the woman rooted on land he’s determined to sell.

Lucy Whitaker’s life is Willowbrook, its land, its tenants, its prosperity—and her precious  apiary—but she always knew it wasn’t hers, knew the missing heir would come eventually. When a powerful man with military bearing rides up looking as if he wants to come in and count the silver, she turns him away, but her heart sinks. She can’t deny Rob Benson his property; she can only try to make him love the place as she does, for her peoples’ sake. A traitorous corner of her heart wishes Rob would love it for her sake.

His life is London; hers is Ashmead. How can they forge something lasting when they are torn in two directions?

Available on Kindle Unlimited or for purchase: 

A Writer’s Garden—A Season of Roses by Everley Gregg

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A Writer’s Garden, Diamonds, Everley Gregg, flowers, Forgotten Flowers of Flanders romance series, Garden blog, gardening, Horses, medieval historical romance, perserverance in the garden and in life, roses, The Knight and the Rose

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 Everley Gregg. Everley will be talking about the roses in her life. Welcome, Everley!

As far as gardening talents go, mine are a bit weak. Although I absolutely love delicate flowers like the orchid and cyclamen, I struggle to keep them going. Either I water too much or not enough. Too sunny a window or not enough light. My son gifted me a miniature gardenia for Mother’s Day and I keep hoping I don’t kill it! Nearly two months and it hasn’t bloomed yet…

Roses, however, are tough. Thank goodness this flower is such a sturdy specimen.

Scattered about our home are a number of rose bushes, stubborn, tough ladies I stuck in the ground over the years and then forgot about—until, like magic, they shock me with brilliant blooms every spring. And shock me they do, because by the time they bloom, I don’t even remember what color they were supposed to be. Apparently, the two alongside my walkway are supposed to be red. And red they are—gloriously, brilliant red.

On my front steps, since last summer, was a small pot in which a miniature rose once lived. Poor thing spent the entire winter out there, a single, bare branch sticking up through the snow. Every day when I came and went, the bony, thorned finger pointed at me, accusing me of neglect. This spring, a number of times, my husband asked if he should throw it in the trash.

“You know, honey, I think that plant on the porch is dead. Do you want me to—”

“No. I’ll take care of it.”

I’m so glad the rose heard him. A few days later, tiny green leaves appeared on that bony finger.

Just last week we transplanted the struggling plant into a bigger pot, with new soil and a sunnier location—on a roller thingy so I can move it inside when winter comes. Just look at it now! It’s even got a bud on it. I wonder if these blooms will be red, like the others?

There is another red rose that has come into my life. Her name is Rose Diamond.

In 2019, I suffered a debilitating shoulder injury that cost me my career as well as many other activities I’ve enjoyed all my life: fishing, golfing, archery, bowling. My favorite sport by far, though, was riding horses. I started riding at the age of eight, and since adulthood, spent very few years “horseless.” I was informed I would likely never ride again.

So what did I do, at the tender age of 63, with limited use of my dominant right arm, when the doctors delivered this damning decree? I bought a horse.

And yes, her name is Rose Diamond. Brilliant red she is, and a diamond through and through. We snapped this photo the day she came home, my daughter showing her off.

With the help of a skilled and sympathetic occupational therapist who specializes in the equestrian sport, I now have dreams of riding again—on my Rose. Honestly, since she came into my life last fall, there were many times when she was the only thing keeping me going. Animals have almost supernatural healing powers. Horses are no exception.

Writing—my other passion, almost as essential as breathing—has been a challenge with a “stupid” right hand. But much like that stubborn rose on my front porch, I persevere. My latest romance series is medieval historical. Is it any wonder the book I was working on when Rose cantered into my life was entitled “The Knight and the Rose”? Mayhap. It is the second in my series called Forgotten Flowers of Flanders, published by Dragonblade Publishing.

So yes, the theme for my life of late has been the rose, a species known to be tough. Hardy. Difficult to kill. I so needed the inspiration of this tenacious flower over the last few, trying years. And in so many, different ways, the rose has been there for me.

My sister-in-law is a photographer who lives two states away. We finally got a chance to spend some time together last month after lockdown eased. I was telling her about my horse.

“What’s her name?”

“Rose,” I replied. “Rose Diamond. Isn’t that lovely?”

Her eyes widened. “Have I got a photograph for you!”

Terri took this photo way before Rose came into my life, back in 2019. The year I was injured. Probably the very same month…

The diamond in the center of this gorgeous bloom was her grandmother’s engagement ring. She called the photo “Diamond Rose.” I told her she was clairvoyant.

Except she got the name backwards. 🙂

About the Writer/Gardener:

Everley Gregg is in love with medieval history. She’s always been mysteriously drawn to Flanders, the area of the world now encompassing France, Belgium, and the Netherlands. If she ever gets to go back in time, 15^th Century Flanders is where she’d want to be.

In this life, Everley resides in Massachusetts with her husband of over 40 years (she’s an expert at happily-ever-after). Her other loves (besides writing) are raising Persian cats, riding dressage horses, and reading. Everley earned her MFA in creative writing from Lesley University in Cambridge, MA., and also writes award-winning supernatural suspense and women’s fiction as Claire Gem.

Everley loves to hear from her fans! Sign up for her newsletter at www.everleygregg.com.

Connect with Everley on Facebook: Twitter:  BookBub: Goodreads:

The Knight and the Rose

By Everley Gregg

Will a proud knight fight for the widow’s honor . . . and heart?

Fifteenth Century, Burgundy

Beverielle Buchanan wears a shroud of guilt she didn’t earn. The daughter of a tavern wench in the Flemish port of Antwerp, she is one of many of Duke Philip’s bastard daughters. But the duchess, Lady Isabella, brings the girl home to court to raise as a lady. Beverielle’s Scottish roots rise to the surface when she meets the brawny Highlander knight. But in a cruel twist of fate, she is betrothed to an Italian merchant of the duke’s choosing. Only three months married, and she finds herself a widow. Her hopes for capturing the heart of the Scottish knight renew until she discovers she may already be carrying the Italian’s child.

Honoring the Auld Alliance, Knight Ròidh Keegan left the Highlands to join Duke Philip’s army in defense of Burgundy. His fealty over, he’s planning his trip back to Scotland when Beverielle, the flame-haired girl he met at Coudenburg, arrives at Germolles Castle. The then-gangly child has blossomed into a lush young woman. Now, however, she is a widow, and a pregnant one at that. Can the knight, soon to be laird of his own castle, still consider the Scottish lass for his bride? His heart says aye, though a long journey and many obstacles lie in their path. But Keegan is a knight, trained to fight.

Will he take on the battle for Beverielle’s heart and honor?

Want to read more? You can find The Knight and the Rose at Amazon

Musings from A Writer’s Brain–Egypt, Romance and History by Caroline Warfield

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Caroline Warfield, Early Victorian Romance, Egyptian history, essay, historical romance, Musings from a Writer's Brain, The Price of Glory

I’ve never been to Egypt.  I often set books in places I’ve visited—and I’ve been to over fifteen countries­—but I’ve never been to Egypt, except in imagination. My great passion is history, however, and Egypt is a history lover’s dream. I couldn’t resist it as a setting for a novel.

It is hard to write about the 19^th century and not bump into issues surrounding the long, slow, disintegration of the Ottoman Empire and what the English called “the Eastern Question.” England needed the Ottoman Empire as a buffer to Russian expansionism in ways too complex to go into in  detail. (Think trade routes to India, for one thing.) In researching various books, I became intrigued by the figure of Muhammad Ali Pasha, nominally viceroy of Egypt on behalf of the Ottoman Sultan. In digging deeper, I discovered:

courtesy of Wikimedia

• Muhammad was actually Albanian, a solider in service to the Sultan sent to drive the French from Egypt. He did so well, he set himself up as governor.
• Over decades he also absorbed all of Palestine including what is now Syria under his rule. His son, head of the Egyptian Army, threatened to take Constantinople and topple the empire not once but twice. Russian intervened the first time. England, Austria, Prussia, Russia, and (eventually) France the second time, clipping Muhammad’s wings.
• His armies also took Nubia (what is now northern Sudan) and grafted it on to Egypt, They built Khartoum as  a military outpost.
• He was modern and forward thinking in many ways, bringing Western engineering, education, and medicine to Egypt.
• Under his rule they even opened a medical school for women in 1832. Women graduates were called hakimas, healers, and cared for women and children.
• He was also despotic, ambitions and cruel. The source of much of his wealth came from trading in and using the labor of enslaved people. Khartoum was a slave trading center.

However, I don’t write straight up historical fiction. I write romance, and I like to think I write “family  centered” romance. The heroes and  heroines of recent books are the children of characters in my earlier books.  When my English hero, raised by a tribe of ferociously  strong women  (his mother is the heroine of Dangerous Works), meets the daughter of a French doctor, trained in the famous medical school, but raised in a male dominated home with a jaundiced view of marriage, their relationship is complicated, to say the least.

I was able to weave that background together with what I learned about Egypt into their story in Cairo, as they  travel down the Nile to Khartoum, and as they are forced to flee back  to create The Price of Glory and I’m thrilled with  the results.

The Price of Glory

by Caroline Warfield

Richard Mallet comes to Egypt with dreams of academic glory. He will be the one to unravel the secrets of the ancient Kushite language. Armed with license to dig, he sets out for Meroë, where the Blue Nile meets the White. He has no room in his life for dalliance or entanglements, and he certainly doesn’t expect to face insurrection and unrest.

Analiese Cloutier seeks no glory—only the eradication of disease among the women and children of Khartoum. She has no interest whatsoever in romantic nonsense and will not allow notions about a lady’s proper role to interfere with her work. She doesn’t expect to have that work manipulated for political purposes.

Neither expects to be enchanted by the amorous power of moonlight in the ruins of Karnak, or to be forced to marry before they can escape revolution. Will their flight north take them safely to Cairo? If it does, can they build something real out of their shattered dreams?

Preorder here.

Note to readers: This book is a Historical Romance, early Victorian, set in Egypt 1839-1840 and is a sensual, but not steamy romance.

About the Author

Award winning author Caroline Warfield has been many things: traveler, librarian, poet, raiser of children, bird watcher, Internet and Web services manager, conference speaker, indexer, tech writer, genealogist—even a nun. She reckons she is on at least her third act, happily working in an office surrounded by windows where she lets her characters lead her to adventures in England and the far-flung corners of the British Empire. She nudges them to explore the riskiest territory of all, the human heart.

My website:  http://www.carolinewarfield.com/

Or follow me here: Bookbub: Facebook: Good Reads:

Tasty Tuesdays–Medieval Stuffed Eggs from Olivia Rae

Tags

A Life Redeemed, Christian Historical Romance, Medieval Stuffed Eggs, Olivia Rae, recipe, Tasty Tuesdays

Since I write mostly romantic Christian historical books, I started researching and looking up old Medieval recipes to use in my newsletter. I was surprised how many of them evolved into the foods we eat today. For summer, I thought it would be fun to share my Medieval Stuffed Egg recipe (with a few of my own changes). It has a nice fresh exotic taste!

Medieval Stuffed Eggs

Ingredients:

6 to 12 eggs

¼ tsp. Cinnamon, ground

½ tsp. ginger, ground

¼ tsp. pepper, ground

¼ tsp. sage, finely chopped

1 tsp. parsley, finely chopped

1 apple, peeled and finely chopped

bread crumbs

small amount of milk

A small amount of mayo (optional)

Method:

Boil eggs, allow to cool, peel and cut in half

Remove yolks and place in bowl with spices and mix with mayo

Take egg whites and place in milk and then coat with bread crumbs

Drop egg whites in hot oil or butter for a few minutes until bread crumbs are brown

When whites are cooled scoop in egg mixture. You can also not include the mayo and fry the egg whites with the egg yolk mixture inside the egg.  Your choice!

Enjoy this great Medieval summer treat!

When you’re ready to enjoy this new treat, grab your plate and check out Olivia’s Romance  A Life Redeemed.

A Life Redeemed

By Olivia Ray

Everyone has a secret, who can a queen trust?

Upon Queen Elizabeth’s order, Audrey Hayes travels to the borderlands of Scotland to learn where the fierce Laird Armstrong’s loyalties lie. Is he aligned with his mother’s English roots in support of the queen, or does he hold with the beliefs of his father, who wishes to see Mary of Scots on the English throne? The fate of Audrey’s family rests on her success in finding the answer.

After losing his lands in a wager and being betrayed by his kin, Gavin Armstrong entered a loveless marriage to obtain the funds to buy back his family home, Warring Tower. Now a widower, struggling against countless border wars, he is on the verge of losing his home and lands again. With few resources, he reluctantly makes another risky wager, one he cannot hope to win without trusting the secretive Audrey Hayes, a woman he suspects is an English spy.

As the two work together to save Warring Tower, their attraction to one another grows. But when Audrey finally gains the information she seeks for Queen Elizabeth, she realizes that the only way she can save her family is to betray the man she loves.

Want to read more?

A Life Redeemed is available on Amazon:  Barnes and Noble:  Apple:  Kobo:

About the Author:

Olivia Rae is an award-winning author of historical and contemporary inspirational romance. She spent her school days dreaming of knights, princesses and far away kingdoms; it made those long days in the classroom go by much faster. After becoming a teacher, she decided to breathe a little more life into her childhood stories.

Olivia is the winner of the Angel Awards, Book Buyer’s Best Award, Southern Magic Award, New England Readers’ Choice Award, the Golden Quill Award, the American Fiction Award, and the Illumination Awards.

Connect with Olivia on her  Website: Twitter: Instagram: Facebook