Beth Trissel's Blog, page 12

Furbaby Friday with Author Lynda Cox

I have long admired Lynda’s beautiful collies on Facebook, and am happy to have her here to share her champion collie and best friend, Vander,  and her western historical romance, Smolder on a Slow Burn.

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Lynda: Third puppy on the left. That was where he was when his breeder posted a picture of his whole litter at three days of age. Third puppy on the left. Even in a picture, I saw that face, saw the rounding of the muzzle, saw the stop placement and I wanted that puppy. I knew both sides of his pedigree, inside and out. Knew the “uglies” he would go through, when he would go through them, and for how long I would joke I needed to keep a brown paper bag over him.

I contacted his breeder and told her that I wanted the third puppy on the left. I was told, “He’s a tri smooth male. You don’t need a tri smooth male.”

She was right. At the time, I had three other tri smooth males.

What I want and what I need have always been very distinct things.

I actually had hands on him when the litter was three weeks old. Again, I picked him out. He was the first puppy I saw and the rest of his litter didn’t seem to exist. It was as if for me, there were a spotlight that shone on him and him alone. I again told his breeder I wanted him. I told her that again when I once more had hands on him at five weeks and at eight weeks. I took him home when he was eight weeks old.

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He finished his championship before he was seven months of age, had his Bronze Grand Championship before he was a year old, and even though he was still a baby, that first year I showed him, he finished the year ranked in the top twenty. It was the last and only time of his show career he wasn’t in the top ten.

I’ve said of that day, when I took him home, we never looked back. But that isn’t true. I am forever looking over my shoulder and thanking his breeders, Bertha and Sarah Garrison, for allowing him to come home with me and for entrusting me to do right by him. I promised them I would take him as far as we could go. I haven’t taken him anywhere. He’s taken me. He’s taken me on the ride of a lifetime.

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We’ve been invited to participate as one of the top five dogs in his breed at The Westminster Kennel Club show. (Yes, we went. No, we didn’t win.) We’ve been to shows all over the United States. He was selected as the Best of Opposite sex winner at the Collie Club of America show last March in California. We’ve “danced” every year at the Collie Club of America Top Ten Invitational.

And when it’s all said and done, at the end of each day, he sleeps next to my bed on his favorite blanket and doggie bed. He’s known to the American Kennel Club as Platinum Grand Champion Bandor’s The Wyching Hour. His friends and admirers know him by his call name of “Vander.” I simply call him my friend and my heart dog.

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Speaking of things of the heart—as an author, I am NOT supposed to have a favorite book. It’s almost like saying as a parent I have a favorite kid. That being said, my heart book is my second book published through The Wild Rose Press, Smolder on a Slow Burn. It originally started life as a contemporary romantic suspense. I completely rewrote it for NaNoWriMo because when I pulled it out to try to update it, that “contemporary” was so dated it could have passed as an historical. I started tinkering and realized there was no way to salvage it as a contemporary. For NaNo, I picked the hero and heroine up, dressed them in period clothing, and threw them on a train heading in the right direction—ANYWHERE BUT THERE. When I got to A.J.’s first line of dialogue and he tells Allison to go sit on a hay bale in the stock railroad car they’re in before she inadvertently knocks him out the door of that rapidly moving train, I knew it was going to work.

I love these two characters so much that I’ve submitted a sequel to The Wild Rose Press.

Blurb: Smolder on a Slow Burn

Allison Webster dreams of having an adventure like the characters in the books she loves. But there is no romance in being pursued by a man who wants her dead for educating the children of former slaves. Unlike the heroines she reads about she doesn’t have a trusty companion to rescue her…until she literally runs into A.J. Adams, a former Confederate cavalry officer. Now, she just has to convince A.J. he really is the honorable man and hero depicted in the dime novel she is reading.

Branded a “traitor” for more than ten years, scarred by harsh treatment in an inhumane prisoner of war camp, A.J. Adams wants revenge. Allison Webster’s arrival into his life provides the bait to destroy the men who murdered his wife and daughters and kidnapped his little brother. The men pursuing Allison are the very same men he has sworn to kill. Falling in love and admitting he might actually be a hero means surrendering his need for vengeance. Surrender is not part of A.J.’s battle strategy.

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Excerpt:

She had been just holding the window, staring out in the night while she tried to sort through the enigma of the man. Allison shoved the window up a little more and then tried to drag it down. It wouldn’t budge past its original point.

“Allow me,” Adams’s deep baritone murmured in her ear.

Startled, Allison reared away from the window. At the same moment, the train jolted forward, sending her tumbling backwards. Her head slammed into his shoulder. His arms snaked around her, steadying her. The broad chest her back pressed up against was as solid as a stone wall and the strength in the arms circling her waist felt as strong as iron bands. Her heart leapt into her throat.

“I might begin to think that more than conversation is in your plans if you don’t stop throwing yourself at me. Of course, you can always blame it on your lack of coordination when the train is in motion.” He spoke barely above a whisper and his breath teased along her cheek, ruffling the stray wisps of her hair. Something deep in her stomach clenched, making it difficult to draw a deep breath.

“I have no motives other than trying to close this window.” Allison didn’t make any attempt to free herself of his hold.

“Then, as I stated a moment or so ago, allow me to assist you.” His chuckle sank deep into her, filling her with warmth, brushing over her like the richest of velvets.

This was going to get her into serious trouble. Allison twisted out of his arms and away from the window, and dropped onto the bench.

[image error]Author Bio:

I write steamy western historical romance, what one reviewer called an authentic blend of Old West action and happily ever after romance. My first published romance won the 2015 Laramie Award for best debut novel. Several times that first romance has sat atop the Amazon best sellers list for western romance. The subsequent three romances have all been RONE nominated.

I was born and raised on Chicago’s south side, into a family of staunch White Sox fans and Democratic Party bosses…and much to their consternation, I’m not a White Sox fan and I refuse to discuss politics. (Some things are much better left unsaid.) I also grew up with a steady diet of syndicated Western television shows, John Wayne movies, and the Sunday night staple of Lassie. I blame those television shows and movies for my lifelong love of the American West and Collies. I said when I grew up I was going to have Collies, own horses, and live on a ranch just like the Ponderosa. Two out of three isn’t bad.

By the time I was legally an adult (I refuse to grow up), I couldn’t wait to get out of Dodge, so to speak. I moved first to the wilds of central Wisconsin and then to south central Indiana to the middle of a corn field, where I currently reside with my best friend, biggest supporter, and husband, Ken. We have a beautiful piece of property in the woods of central Tennessee I escape to every chance I get. Now, to just convince hubby it’s time to put away the veterinary practice and become a backwoodsman in Tennessee. Does he really think I was learning all those survival skills because I’m expecting an apocalypse of biblical proportions?

Social Links:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lyndajcox

Web page: http://www.lyndajcox.com

e-mail: Lynda.cox@aol.com

Twitter: @lyndacox

Buy Links:

https://www.amazon.com/Smolder-Slow-Burn-Lynda-Cox-ebook/dp/B013RJVDQU

(e-book is available only through Amazon)

https://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/paperback-books/844-smolder-on-a-slow-burn-paperback.htm

(if you prefer the paperback)

Furbaby Friday with Author Peggy L Henderson!

I am happy to welcome Peggy to Furbaby Friday to share her love of animals, her cat, Hissy, and  Yellowstone Heart Song from her Yellowstone Romance Series.

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(Hissy)

Peggy: Thank you for inviting me to talk about my fur babies today, Beth! Where do I begin? I ‘ve been an animal lover for as long as I can remember. I had mice, hamsters, frogs, rabbits… you name it, when I was little. We tried getting a dog, and also a cat, but for one reason or another, it never worked out that we got to keep them, so I spent a lot of time on my uncle’s farm in rural Germany. I loved hanging out with the chickens, the cows, the horses, and the cats. For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be a veterinarian.

Fast forward to when I was a teenager and living in the US. My first job was at age 15, working in an animal hospital’s boarding kennel. From there, I worked my way up to technician, and it’s a job I held all through high school and college. After four years of Animal Science/Pre-Veterinary Medicine, I decided to call it quits on the veterinarian dream. I got married, had a house, started a family, and lived the dream of having lots of animals. I was burned out on school, but I continued to work in the field. After staying home with my kids for their first ten years, my background landed me a job in a veterinary reference lab. Now I’m loving life as a full-time romance author, but animals tend to find their way into my books to help bring couples their HEA, in the form of horses, dogs, and even a goose.

Over the years, I’ve owned dogs, cats, horses, chickens, goats, you name it. Most of the animals were cast-offs from clients at the vet clinic or rescues from shelters. There was Misty, our black barn kitty who moved into our barn, young and pregnant. I had her spayed, and she decided she wanted to move in permanently.

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(Hissy)

Then there was Wink, our one-eyed little rescue cat. Someone had dropped him off at the clinic when he was about four weeks old. He was covered in fleas and had a terrible eye infection and upper respiratory infection. He barely knew how to eat on his own. I cleaned him up, took him home, and got him healthy, except for his eye. It was unsalvageable, so we had to have it removed. Hence the name Wink, because he looked like he was always winking at someone.

Most of my horses were racetrack cast-offs or kill-lot rescues. Due to life’s circumstances, I had to give up my animal lifestyle about a dozen years ago and drastically downsize (which meant that none of the ones that passed on were replaced). At the moment, I have only one cat and my welsh pony left. My other pets and horses have all passed away from old age. I’m a huge believer that pets are for life.

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So, today, I want to give a special mention to my current fur baby, my cat Hissy, who is known on Facebook as the Writing Assistant. What kind of silly name is Hissy? Yes, there’s a story behind the name.

One day, about seventeen years ago, I was out feeding the horses when I saw this beautiful calico cat wander through the yard. She was skinny, and obviously nursing kittens. She was shy at first, but when I brought out a can of tuna, she came running and was most grateful. She came around again the next day, and I saw a tiny orange furball kitten with her. Unfortunately, the little stinker would not let me get close to him.

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(Jedi and Misty)

I talked to my neighbor, who told me the cat lived in her shed, and that two of her kittens had been taken by hawks. Right then, I made it my mission that this last kitten would not meet the same fate. Mama cat (who we named Minx, because I used to have a calico named Minx decades ago) was easy to catch. The kitten was a challenge. I had to go into the shed and all but remove most of the wooden floorboards to finally grab him. Boy, was he a feisty one. Hissing and spitting and showing me how tough he was.

I brought him into the house to re-unite with his Mama, and for several weeks, no-one was able to get close to him. He would hiss and spit at anyone getting near his crate. My then 3-year-old son decided to call him Hissy. Weeks passed, and he finally decided that living in the house, getting fed, having a safe and warm place to sleep wasn’t such a bad deal, after all. He became a lovable couch potato, but we never changed his name.

Now, he’s my 17-year-old senior cat, the best cat I’ve ever owned. He’s never been a lap cat, but he loves sleeping next to me, either at night, or during the day when I’m working, typing away on the couch. As I said before, he’s my “Writing Assistant” and his fans on Facebook love him.

Last year he adjusted to living in an RV in Yellowstone for five months, and he will be going with us again in a couple of months when we leave for another season in the world’s first national park. He has feline diabetes that has been in remission for several years (crossing fingers it stays that way), and is in overall great health for his age. I can’t imagine life without him.

Author Bio:

Peggy L Henderson is an award-winning, best-selling western historical and time travel romance author of the Yellowstone Romance Series, Second Chances Time Travel Romance Series, Teton Romance Trilogy, and the Blemished Brides and Wilderness Brides Western Historical Romance Series. When she’s not writing about Yellowstone, the Tetons, or the old west, she’s out hiking the trails, spending time with her family and pets, or catching up on much-needed sleep. She is happily married to her high school sweetheart. Along with her husband and two sons, she divides her time between living in Southern California and Yellowstone National Park.

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Find Peggy at:

Amazon | Barnes and Noble | iTunes | Blog |Facebook Page | Facebook Group | Pinterest | Twitter |mailing list |BookBub

Blurb for Yellowstone Heart Song:

[image error]Nurse and avid backpacker Aimee Donovan is offered the opportunity of a lifetime. She encounters a patient who tells her he is a time traveler and can send her two hundred years into the past to spend three months in the rugged Yellowstone wilderness at the dawn of the mountain man era. The only requirement: she cannot tell anyone that she’s from the future.

How did a white woman suddenly appear in the remote Rocky Mountain wilderness? Trapper Daniel Osborne’s first instinct is to protect this mysterious and unconventional woman from the harsh realities of his mountains. While he fights his growing attraction to her, he is left frustrated by her lies and secrecy.

Daniel shows Aimee a side of Yellowstone she’s never experienced. She is torn between her feelings for him, and exposing a secret that will destroy everything he holds as truth. As her three months come to an end, she is faced with a dilemma: return to her own time, or stay with the man who opened her eyes to a whole new world. When the decision is made for her, both their lives will be changed forever.

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Excerpt

Aimee smiled sweetly. He could ask her all he wanted about bison. This was basic junior ranger stuff to her. How many countless ranger-led hikes had she gone on in her life? And a favorite topic of discussion on those hikes had often been bison. She could practically lead one of these bison talks herself. She had to admit, though, that her guide this time was far more interesting than any ranger she’d met in modern times.

When Daniel didn’t speak, she finally asked, “Well, how am I doing so far?”

He studied her for a moment with that intense look of his. “Where would you expect to find berries here?” he asked, rather than answer her question.

“I’d be looking around for sunny spots, I suppose, for berry bushes.”

Daniel pointed out some strawberry patches on the ground, and huckleberry bushes among the thickets. She moved eagerly in their direction, when he took hold of her arm and pulled her back. She turned her head, and raised her eyebrows in a silent question.

“Bears, remember?” he warned. He scanned the area for a moment, and inhaled deeply. “Often, you can smell a bear before you see him,” he explained.

“What do bears smell like?” She recalled the death and decay smell of the elk carcass, but she couldn’t remember now if the bear smelled like rotten meat as well, or just the air around him.

“Most of the year, bears smell like the places they visit,” Daniel explained. “In the early part of summer, they smell like the wet grasses.”

“Sweet?” she asked. He nodded.

“The tundra smells like the earth and sage, and a bear has that smell as well. It is only much more distinct. You need to train your senses to pick up the differences. Bears like to roll in their food, or anything with a strong odor, so whatever they have eaten, they will smell like it.”

“Ew. Okay. Kind of like dogs. They do that, too.” She took a deep breath, but all she smelled was the pine scent of the forest. “What else?” she asked eagerly.

“Listen to the forest. What do you hear?”

She closed her eyes and inhaled. The tranquil sounds of the forest birds, the smell of fresh pine and musty earth, even the distinctive cow scent left behind by the bison, and the rushing sound of the breeze through the tops of the tall lodgepole pines, all had an intoxicating effect on her.

“I hear the wind and birds,” she said softly.

“What kind of birds?” Daniel prodded.

She focused on the different sounds. “Oh! A woodpecker,” she said in surprise. She had never paid attention to different birdcalls before. She turned her head to listen closer. “I hear ravens, and probably some kind of jay?”

“Any other animals?” Daniel pushed her further. “You must learn to separate all sound.”

She sighed, but kept her eyes closed. Amazingly, she could, indeed, sift through the cacophony of chirps and make out individual animals. “Hey, that’s not a bird . . . that was an angry-sounding squirrel.”

She opened her eyes. In front of her, Daniel stared intently at her face. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Is it safe now?” she whispered.

Was he going to answer? She shifted her weight nervously. His intense eyes drove straight to her heart. She couldn’t read his expression, but she wasn’t about to back down and be the first to look away. Finally, he cleared his throat.

“There is no bear here,” he answered, his voice sounding a bit raspy. He motioned with his chin to the berry patches.

Relieved for the excuse to move away from him, Aimee picked handfuls of berries, and between mouthfuls carefully placed some in her backpack. “There are so many. I would love to take some of these back and make a pie!”

Daniel stood off to the side while she ate her fill, and casually popped a few berries in his mouth from time to time. He was like a security guard – constantly trained on her to make sure she didn’t make a wrong move. She tried to ignore him and concentrate on her task, but his eyes seemed to reach straight into her. Her skin tingled all over.

“Okay, I think I have enough,” Aimee said after her pack was rather full. She wished he would catch her double meaning. She’d definitely had enough of his continuous perusal, and was ready for a diversion. Daniel turned and led the way out of the forest.

“The last time I ate pie was in Philadelphia seven years ago,” he said wistfully when the trail widened and they walked side by side. Aimee was surprised he volunteered this information.

“You’re in for a treat, then. I make a mean berry pie.”

* * *

For the better part of the morning, Daniel led her through the forest. He showed her how to read different tracks, signs to look out for that an animal had been in the area, where to look for edible roots and plants, and how to watch the skies for changes in the weather. Along with the berries, she filled her backpack with mint, wild onions, licorice, and various other roots and plants.

She listened attentively as she tried to absorb everything Daniel told her. Some things she already knew, others were completely new to her. The subtle animal signs he picked up on astounded her. Silently, he had pointed out a black bear sow and her twin cubs in the distance, a moose in the thickets that she would have completely overlooked, and countless other smaller animals. He knew which critter made every track they came upon. He read the forest for information as someone in her time would read a newspaper. It was most refreshing to get a glimpse of this wilderness that she loved so much in her time from this man who carved out a living here.

Aimee savored the beauty of her surroundings. Aspen trees grew in abundance. Beaver lodges lined the banks along streams, and countless otters played in the waters. With the coming of the fur trappers to these mountains within a decade of this time, the beaver would be trapped to near extinction. Wolves would be hunted until none remained, and without this predator, the elk would take over, and cause the destruction of the aspen from overgrazing. This was a Yellowstone unfamiliar to her, but it was as nature had intended before the encroachment of man.

Despite the differences, the landscape still held a certain familiarity, and she realized Daniel was leading them back in the direction of the cabin sometime in the early afternoon. Her foot throbbed with every step she took, but today was one of the best days of her life. The raw, undisturbed landscape exhilarated her. No other hikers, no roads. Just me and this gorgeous backwoodsman.

Find Yelowstone Heart Song at: https://www.books2read.com/YHS

Thanks for stopping by! Please leave Peggy a comment.

Furbaby Friday with Cara Marsi!

I am happy to have Cara Marsi here to share her love of cats and her contemporary romance, Wedded in Vegas (Gambling on Love series).

Cats I Have Known and Loved by Cara:

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Cats have been part of my life since before I was born. Both my parents were raised with cats. I can’t imagine a world without these elegant, beautiful, independent, playful, affectionate creatures who shower us with unconditional love. I remember fondly every cat I’ve ever had, since I was a little girl. Each cat has been a member of my family. Pet owners know, as much as we love all our kitties and dogs and other pets, there are always those few that are special.

One of my very special cats was Sabrina, a tabby. I got her in 1970 as a kitten from a co-worker when I lived in Toronto, Canada. I’d gone to my co-worker’s house with the idea of choosing a male kitten. When I sat on the floor, near the kittens, Sabrina, a sweet little girl, immediately ran to me and climbed up to my chest. She chose me, as is the case with the most memorable pets. Sabrina’s fur was thicker than most short hairs. I always figured it was from being bred in cold weather. She and I formed a bond that couldn’t be broken. She loved me totally and thought of me as her mommy. She was my baby. We were a team. I went through a rough patch at the time, and Sabrina was my rock. She saved my life.

It bothered me, but I was so consumed with new motherhood, I couldn’t give Sabrina the attention I’d always given her. All these years later, I still feel regret over that. She contracted heart problems and we had to put her down when she was twelve. That was thirty-four years ago, and I miss her. She will always be part of my heart.

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There were cats after Sabrina, and I loved them all. But I didn’t find another special cat until December 2003, when we adopted a fat, black, almost two-year-old cat from the shelter. The Humane Association told me a man had found the cat as a kitten hiding in his bushes on his property. Ebony had lived at the shelter her whole life until we adopted her. Black cats (and dogs) are the last to be adopted. My son, in college then, renamed her Killer because she was so sweet and gentle. He said it was irony. Killer didn’t like being held, but she liked to hang out with my husband and me. In the evenings while we watched TV, Killer slept on a satin pillow on the sofa between us. She wasn’t vocal, and only cried when we picked her up or tried to give her a pill for the chronic upper respiratory disease she’d gotten from her time in the shelter. Killer may not have been vocal, but she communicated with her eyes. I knew what she wanted by the way she’d look at me. Sometimes I’d say to her, “Show me what you want,” and she’d lead me to her food dish. We lost Killer in October 2015, to cancer. I miss her so much. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t think about her and miss her.

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Almost a year before we lost Killer, we brought in a little tortoiseshell stray we call Tortie. Tortie and her kittens were running around our neighborhood the summer of 2014. Neighbors fed them, but no one could get near the cats. We all thought they were feral. I contacted a rescue group, Forgotten Cats, and with their help, I trapped Tortie. It took until September of that year to get her into a trap. We couldn’t find her kittens, and I hope kind people took them in. Forgotten Cats spayed Tortie and gave her shots, then released her to us. She lived on our open porch, and my husband and I were building an outdoor shelter for her. As she got more comfortable with us, she stopped running away when she saw us. One day she wrapped around my ankles, and I realized Tortie wasn’t feral, but just a scared, abandoned little kitty. We brought her inside and she’s been with us ever since. She, like Killer, is an indoor cat. She’s a petite cat, although after being close to starvation when she lived on the street, she’s gotten a bit chubby. Tortie has the standard five toes, but one of her toes is like a thumb. The perfect name for her would be Mittens. Since Forgotten Cats called her Tortie due to her coloring, we kept the name. She’s so affectionate and gentle, I think she knows we saved her life.

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One month after I lost my Killer, I was in Pet Smart to buy cat food for Tortie. I went to look at the cats for adoption, as I always do when there. I told one of the Humane Association volunteers about Killer, and I started crying, right there in the store. Before I knew it, I left with a 10-week old tuxedo kitten named Brew. We renamed him Brewster. I’d forgotten how crazy kittens are. After bringing him home, I realized my husband and I were too old to deal with a super energetic kitten. Brewster kept trying to play with Tortie, but she ran from him. I think he scared her, small as he was then. He had, and still has, so much energy.

Brewster is the craziest cat I’ve ever had in a life filled with cats. He and Tortie get along now, and he doesn’t scare her any more. She likes to groom him, and I wonder if she thinks of him as her baby, although he’s almost twice her size.

Brewster weighed less than three pounds when I got him. He’s now a little over two years old and he weighs 17 pounds. He’s a big cat, and looks as if he may have a little Maine Coon in his DNA. He’s beautiful, ornery, and a cuddle bug. Both my cats adore me. When Brewster weighed less than three pounds, he liked to curl up under my chin while I sat and watched TV. At 17 pounds, he still tries to curl up under my chin.

He wakes me up in the morning (way too early) by licking my face. Like a Maine Coon, he’s very vocal. He’ll announce himself entering or leaving a room. He stares at my husband and cries until my husband picks him up and walks around the house with him. We recognize what he wants by his different cries. Brewster is Mr. Personality, and he still acts like a kitten and gets into as much trouble as one. He’s whip smart, too. I taught Brewster to sit on command, and it only took a few minutes and some treats.

One of the reasons I chose him is because he’s almost all black. I wanted another black cat like Killer. Brewster is a medium hair, and he has a bushy tail. Killer, while a short-hair, had thick, silky, luxurious fur. I wanted a cat with fur like hers.  I hope you’ve enjoyed my little homage to the cats I’ve known and loved.

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I sometimes include a cat in my books. It depends on the story. In Love by Chance, Book 2 of my Gambling on Love series, my heroine Laney has a fat black cat named Ebony, Killer’s shelter name. In Wedded in Vegas, Book 1 of the Gambling on Love series, my hero, Cole, rescues a black kitten. He names it Killer, my way of honoring my sweet cat.

[image error]Blurb for Wedded in Vegas:

A reluctant bride

A hot Hollywood actor

What happens in Vegas…

Bartending in Las Vegas is the means to an end for Analisa Barbero. As soon as she finishes school she can get her dream job as a teacher. With her hard-working single mom temporarily disabled, money is tight and the hours are long. Who has time for dating? But when a sexy nerd asks her out, Analisa does what everyone else in Las Vegas does: she takes a chance and says yes.

Some people come to Sin City to gamble. Some come to start over. And some come to hide out. Cole Lassiter is Hollywood’s hottest property. Fed up with phoniness and paparazzi parasites, he just wants to be an ordinary nobody for a while. But when his deception causes a pretty bartender to lose her job, he makes her the kind of offer that can only happen in the city of make-believe: Marry him for one year in exchange for a house, money, and all-expenses-paid tuition for school. If she agrees, maybe the tabloids will finally give him a break.

Neither Analisa nor Cole thought love was in the cards for them. But what happens in Vegas doesn’t always stay in Vegas. Is Analisa willing to gamble her future on a man who already deceived her once? Everyone in Las Vegas knows one thing: you have to roll the dice if you want to hit the jackpot. And love is worth the risk.

[image error]EXCERPT from Wedded in Vegas:

Cole jerked upright as a thought, like the proverbial lightbulb, went off in his head. He knew how to help Analisa, and maybe himself. If he could convince her. He glanced at the wall clock. He didn’t have much time.

He grabbed his phone and called down to the garage for his car. With a hopeful spring in his movements, he slipped on his leather jacket against the March chill and left the penthouse.

He had a woman to win over.

Cole let out his breath at the quiet when he turned down Analisa’s street. True to their word, the paparazzi had left the area. He tightened his hand on the gear-shift knob, hoping all would go well now so he’d have some big news for the press later. Mostly, he hoped his plan would help Analisa.

When he pulled into her driveway, he saw movement behind the front curtains. Busted! Anxiety clenched his stomach. He had a lot of convincing to do. First, she had to let him in.

As he exited his car, shouts from up the street drew his attention. Anger propelled him to run toward the noise. A group of young teens was throwing rocks at a black kitten. The poor creature was running in circles, trying to avoid the missiles.

“Stop it!” Cole shouted as he got close. He scooped up the trembling kitten and held it against his chest. “It’s okay,” he crooned. “You’re safe now.”

He glared at the nearest kid, one with a rock ready to throw. “Drop the rock. Now,” Cole said in the harsh tones he’d used as the superhero in his last action picture.

The kid dropped the rock. Cole’s gaze canvassed the group, locking eyes with each boy. “Are you proud of yourselves? Hurting a defenseless little cat? Didn’t your parents teach you to be kind to animals?”

“Someone dumped that cat off here coupla days ago, mister,” one of the kids said. “My mom said not to feed it ’cause it would hang around. No one wants it here. We were just having fun.”

“Yeah,” said another. “It would have starved to death anyway.”

“You would let a poor, helpless creature starve?” At Cole’s glower, they moved back. “What kind of jerks are you?”

Rage coiled his insides. No wonder the world was in such a sad state with kids like this. Dismissing them with a look of disgust, he held the kitten close and strode toward Analisa’s house. After several knocks, she opened the door.

Her beauty stole his breath. Her curling midnight hair cascaded past her shoulders. The yoga pants and top she wore hugged her lush curves. Her amazing eyes, shuttered and red-rimmed, tore a hole in his heart.

“What do you want?” Her voice and tight features communicated her distrust of him. Her eyes widened when she noticed the kitten he held. “What are you doing with a kitten?”

“I saved it from some thugs who were about to kill it. Can I come in?”

She opened the screen door, reached out, and took the kitten from him, hugging it to her. “The poor little thing.” Turning away from the door, she motioned for Cole to enter.

Rosa pushed up from the sofa when she saw him. “Hello, Cole.”

“Hello, Rosa. Good to see you again.”

“Mom, look at this dear kitten. Cole said kids were trying to hurt it.”

“Poor baby. Let me have it. I’ll take it into the kitchen and give it some milk.”

“May I sit?” Cole asked when Rosa left.

“Suit yourself,” Analisa said.

He sat on the sofa, while she perched on the edge of one of the chairs that flanked it. Hands clasped on her lap, she stared, unblinking, at him. “What do you want?”

“Hear me out. Please. I talked to Appleton but I couldn’t change his mind about your job. I’ve come up with something that might help us both.”

Silent, she studied him with cool, gold-brown eyes.

Rubbing a hand over his hair, he swallowed. “I like you a lot. We get along well, or we did before all this happened.”

At her continued silence, he said, “I think we should get married.”

Purchase Wedded in Vegas in Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/Wedded-Vegas-Gambling-Love-Book-ebook/dp/B075FXKNRC/

At Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wedded-in-vegas-cara-marsi/1127221016?ean=2940158797187

At iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/wedded-in-vegas/id1280183387?ls=1&mt=11

At Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/wedded-in-vegas

[image error]Author Bio:

An award-winning and eclectic author, Cara Marsi is published in romantic suspense, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance. She loves a good love story, and believes that everyone deserves a second chance at love. Sexy, sweet, thrilling, or magical, Cara’s stories are first and foremost about the love. Treat yourself today, with a taste of romance.

When not traveling or dreaming of traveling, Cara and her husband live on the East Coast of the United States in a house ruled by two spoiled cats who compete for attention.

Visit my website to read about all my books and sign up for my newsletter: www.caramarsi.com

I’m on Facebook and Pinterest. I’m always interested in making new friends.

www.facebook.com/authorcaramarsi

www.pinterest.com/caramarsi

Follow me on Amazon and BookBub:

http://www.amazon.com/Cara-Marsi/e/B002BMIB8S

https://www.bookbub.com/authors/cara-marsi

Thank you to Beth for featuring me today.  (My pleasure, Cara. I love hearing about your kitties. Wonderful cats).

Thanks for stopping by. Please leave Cara a comment!

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Furbaby Friday with Author Vonda Sinclair!

I am delighted to have Vonda Sinclair here to share her lovely kitties and fabulous Scottish romance, Highlander Unbroken. I remember when her sweet rescue cat, Kaylee, had these wonderful kittens. I followed their adventures on Facebook. ***Vonda is generously giving away an eBook or audio book to one winner to be chosen from those who leave comments.

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Vonda: 

I’ve always been more of a cat person, but I love dogs, too. In fact, my most painful pet loss was probably a dog almost ten years ago. I’ve lost a lot of furbabies over the years and it’s always so heartbreaking. After that last devastating one, a kitty, I decided I didn’t want another cat or dog for a while because I didn’t want to deal with the heartbreak of losing a precious animal family member again for a long while. But fate, or destiny or the angels had other ideas.

Author Miriam Newman and her Rescue Dogs! #FurbabyFriday

I’m very glad to have Miriam Newman here to share her wonderful dogs, the rescue organization she supports, and her book, Recused, the story of Dancer, the pit bull.

Miriam: Thanks to Beth for inviting me today to her lovely blog. I am always delighted to write anything about my furry friends. My advent into animal rescue came in the early 2000’s, when I was living alone for the first time in many years. When my bull terrier died from heart failure, off I went to the local SPCA to adopt a nice, small, furry pet to grace my couch and snuggle with me.

I came home with a pit bull.

Full details of the ensuing hilarity are chronicled in my book Rescued, which you will see below. After intense joy and heartbreak, my beloved pit bull Dancer succumbed to kidney failure, but she had given me an appetite for taking the dogs no one else wants.

Several years later, I saw Dancer’s doppelganger on a page for a rescue in northern New Jersey. It wasn’t even remotely near me, but that was my dog. Luckily, I found a kindred spirit in Jennifer McFadden, who heads the rescue. She and her then-little daughter brought that barfing dog all the way from near New York City to my remote farm tucked far away in Pennsylvania. Oh, the poor brave souls, but their faith was rewarded as Tia—pictured here—went a long way towards filling the gaping hole in my heart.

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And I was hooked. When Jennifer asked me to foster dogs for her rescue, I plunged in headlong. To date, I have fostered roughly two dozen dogs for several rescues. Four of them remain with me for various reasons—either I couldn’t let go or they couldn’t. (One bites everybody but me!).

Delilah was one of my first rescues. She is now our wise old lady dog. Then there is Kipsy, who thinks she is Tia’s puppy—on what grounds, I don’t know, but there you have it.

And Mushie, everybody’s favorite little mushpot that I can’t live without. How I love that dog.

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And finally we have Hank, otherwise known as Jaws. Like the Lord of the Rings, Hank does not share power, so I think my dog rescues are at an end. Still, everything finds me, from a dumped-off pregnant kitty to a riderless horse to a two hundred pound pig on the porch. Anyone who thinks life in the country is boring just doesn’t know.

The dogs are my writing companions in a collection of books on my website. Mainly these are historical and/or fantasy romance, with one exception. I have written the true story of Dancer the pit bull, with Tia posing as cover model. All proceeds from sales of the book go to Home Free Animal Rescue in Red Bank, NJ. I would be thrilled to have you share our story.

Blurb for RESCUED:

What do you do when you are alone in the world? If you’re a nice middle-aged lady with a social conscience, you go to your local shelter and adopt a rescue dog. Of course, sometimes it isn’t only the dog who needs to be rescued. That’s when life might send you a Dancer-Dog.

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AUTHOR BIO:

Fantasy poetry driven by myths and legends has been my passion for as long as I can remember. I was published in poetry before catching the romance writing bug. I bring that background to my writing along with a lifelong addiction to horses, an 18 year career in various areas of psychiatric social services and many trips to Ireland, where I nurture my muse. My published works range from contemporary fantasy romance to fantasy historical, futuristic, science fiction and historical romance. Currently I live in rural Pennsylvania with a “motley crew” of rescue animals. You can see my books at www.miriamnewman.com.

Follow Miriam’s Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Miriam-Newman/e/B005DBFZUG

Get RESCUED in Kindle and Print at Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/Rescued-Miriam-Newman-ebook/dp/B013ZX2JY8/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

At Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/rescued-miriam-newman/1122533642

Thanks for stopping by! Please leave Miriam a comment.

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Furbaby Friday with Author Cathie Dunn!

I am delighted to have my friend Cathie Dunn here to share her deep love of animals and her Scottish historical romance, Highland Arms.

Cathie: Thank you so much, Beth, for hosting me today as part of your wonderful Furbaby Friday series. I’ve been enjoying reading posts by other authors about their furbabies – both present and past – and, like some, I found it a little tricky to choose one of mine.

[image error]Ellie dog–griffon beagle cross

We currently have three cats and one dog: Tiger, our 13 ½ year old eccentric patriarch who is of Welsh origin, then lived in Scotland for a decade, and survived the long drive to the south of France where we now live; Ellie Dog, a still timid female griffon beagle cross we adopted just over a year ago; Charlie Young Cat, a Siamese girl who suddenly showed up near us, still too young, last spring, and who we took in shortly after; and Shadow Kitten – the last one of four kittens we found abandoned (by a person, as they were scrambling around next to an empty plastic bag in thick shrubs by the riverside). No worries, the three other kittens found good homes, but nobody wanted a black male boy, so he’s staying… ~sigh~

Weird Wednesday: The Cottingley Fairies

Divergent Wanderings

Elsie Wright as photographed by her cousin Frances Griffiths in 1920 with one of the most debated fairies of the 20th century.  Photo: http://www.cottingleyconnect.org.uk

This is a story that has captivated my attention since I was a little girl. It was 1917 in Cottingley, UK when two cousins, Elsie Wright, then 16 and her 10 year old cousin Frances Griffiths created two photographs- one of Frances with fairies and another of Elise with a gnome. These pictures were shown at a lecture on “Fairy Life” in 1919 and from that point sparked a debate among many prominent individuals at the time, including Sir Arthur Conan Doyle of Sherlock Holmes fame. Critics felt that the fairies looked too modern with current hairstyles and clothing to be real while others argued that no darkroom manipulation or double exposures had taken place after examining the negatives.

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Filed under: Uncategorized

New Community for #Book Lovers! #Mystery #Romance Reads + #Giveaways ~ #amreading #ABA Happy New Year

“Hear ye hear ye!” I summon in a raspy voice, after weeks of coughing. I’m a bit better now, thanks. I’ve crawled from my burrow to share some exciting news. I’m honored to be one of 12 super authors taking part in a fabulous new website, Moonlight and Mystery. This online magazine offers superb romantic suspense, mystery, and page-turning reads, some with a sprinkle of supernatural, time slips, urban fantasy, or magic. And gripping history mixed in–from me.

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Look for:

Super reads and prizes

Sweet games and contests

Behind the scenes secrets

Free ongoing mystery reads

Compelling articles (Mine will probably have historical and herbal content, or cats…gardening… but darn compelling stuff)

We invite you to be part of the inner circle, contribute to the authors’ creative process, and share your favorite books and authors.

Like our Facebook page:

https://www.facebook.com/MoonlightAndMystery

Visit our website: http://www.moonlightandmystery.com

I spent days creating an author page with more about my books at: http://www.moonlightandmystery.com/our-newest-releases/books-beth-trissel/

For more of an insiders’ view, join our Street Team:

http://www.moonlightandmystery.com/street-team

We look forward to seeing you and growing as the year unfolds. Make reading more one of your New Year’s resolutions. I’m gonna try to do that, too.  Our list of stellar authors includes:

Kathryn Knight      [image error]

Casi McLean

Alicia Dean

Tamara Ferguson

Suzanne Jenkins

Beth Trissel

Kim Hornsby

Brenda Whiteside

Renee Johnson

Emma Kaye

Maureen Bonatch

Sharon Buchbinder

Filed under: Moonlight and Mystery Tagged: author events, authors, giveaway, Happy New Year, Moonlight & Mystery, mystery, Paranormal, romance, Street Team, Suspense, urban fantasy

Furbaby Friday with Author Hywela Lyn

I am glad to welcome fellow Wild Rose Press Author Hywela Lyn to the blog with a very touching Furbaby Friday post as she shares her beloved horse, Harri, and her wonderful sci-fi romance Beloved Enemy.

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Lyn: I had to think long and hard when deciding which furbaby – or furbabies to feature on for my spot for Furbaby Friday. Should it be one of my beloved dogs, now gone over the Rainbow Bridge, my first dog Bob, Bonny the beagle, Hans, the most loyal of little dogs who was by my side at the lowest times of my life, Bouncer, the dear little rescue, who had been cruelly abused by his previous owner but was the most loving and gentle little dog, my current ‘rescue’ Choccy, who is a real character… Dusty the stable cat? Then there are the ‘big furbabies’, the horses. Max, my very first horse, Smokey, Flikka, who was with me for thirty years, her daughter Star, and son Mr Fifty, and Sally, my little endurance horse, who worked her socks off for me on the long distance competitive trail rides in Wales, all now sadly gone to their rest.

The decision was made for me two weeks ago on a snowy Sunday morning. I’ve never been lucky enough to have my own land and for several years, have been renting some land and buildings about twelve miles from where I live. I received a phone call to say that my lovely black Welsh Cob gelding, Harri, who’d had arthritis for several years and was on permanent medication for it, had gone down in the field and couldn’t get up. Eventually with a lot of help he was able to stand, but there was a strong possibility he might lie down again, and be unable to get up, and if he was to be out in the snow all night, would be in a lot of pain and probably suffer from hypothermia, even though both he and my other horse T’pau have warm blankets, lying on the cold ground he would obviously get chilled and I was afraid if he was in the stable he might get cast, so the sad decision was made to save him from any further suffering and let him go over the Rainbow Bridge. He was twenty eight years old, which isn’t a bad age for a horse.

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I first met Harri (show name Pentrepiod Sovereign) about fourteen years ago when I bought him from Marie. I changed his ‘pet name’ slightly from ‘Harry’ to the Welsh version ‘Harri’. Over the years, Marie and I have become good friends and she always remembered Harri’s birthday and visited him at Christmas several times. I’d already contacted her about a couple of weeks before his passing, to let her know that putting him to sleep was a possibility and I’m really glad she came to see him straight away and was able to say her goodbyes to him.

He was very beautiful, jet black, apart from a tiny smudge of white on his muzzle, and a narrow ring of white around each hind foot. I retrained him from English to the western way of riding, having been riding ‘western’ for many years, since it first became popular in the U.K. He took to it like a duck to water, and looked very smart in his black western saddle and bridle, and bright purple and white saddle blanket. He was very laid back and unlike my other horse, a paint Quarterhorse mare, T’pau, he never spooked or bolted, but if something scared him he would plant his feet firmly on the ground and turn his head to look at me as if to say ‘mum, get off and protect me!’ T’pau, although really sweet-natured, is quite bossy and used to herd him around the field sometimes, and shoo him away from a patch of grass she had her eye on, and he’d just amble away with the equine equivalent of a shrug of the shoulders, not in the slightest bit bothered, but you could almost hear him mutter under his breath ‘bossy mare’! They were very fond of each other really though, and would happily munch together from the same hayrack, and share the stable together.

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Harri was one of the stars in a fantasy novella I wrote for the Wild Rose Press, and later republished myself as an ‘indie’ release ‘Dancing With Fate.’ He shared the limelight with Sal, and I sent them both back to fifth century Wales, where they became the mounts of a legendary magician, and a Greek muse, respectively. Harri will always have a special place in my heart and I like to think of him grazing happily with the other horses in lush pastures near the Rainbow Bridge.

BELOVED ENEMY

BLURB:

Cat Kincaid is obsessed with killing the man she believes is responsible for the torture and death of her sister, but when she eventually catches up with him, survival becomes a greater priority than revenge.

Kerry Marchant, haunted by memories, regret and self-blame, shields himself from the pain of the past by committing himself totally to the starship, Destiny, of which he is part owner. However, the beautiful, red haired woman who reminds him of his lost love, and who he suspects is working for a corrupt regime, represents a possible threat not only to the ship, but to his heart.

Marooned on an inhospitable planet, they need to work together to stay alive, fighting not only unknown assailants, but their growing attraction. But how can they learn to trust each other when he has vowed never to get close to a woman again, and she made a solemn pledge to destroy him?

This is the third book in my SF romance series, the ‘Destiny Trilogy’, each book being a ‘standalone’. It is the only one of my books that doesn’t feature a horse of some description, but it does have an alien ‘furbaby’, called ‘Shifter’ because he can blend into the background.

Here’s the bit where the main male character, Kerry, meets Shifter for the first time. (She has just saved his life, after a gun battle, and realising he is the man she has been searching for in connection with the death of her sister, has relieved him of his blaster.)

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EXCERPT:

They reached the rock their adversaries had used as a shield. With her finger on the trigger button Cat swung round it, prepared to fire if anyone moved. Then she froze. The area was clear. Not the bodies she expected to find, no sign anyone had ever been there at all.

She looked at Kerry. “They were here. They can’t have just vanished.”

He shook his head. “Unless they can teleport—which has been proven to be impossible by mechanical means. It is just possible they may have psionic capabilities.”

“No point in worrying about them now. Seems they’ve gone, however they did it.” Cat gave a long low whistle and one of the nearby boulders morphed into the tawny form of Shifter.

“What the hell is that?” As if acting on instinct, Kerry reached for his gun and then swore softly when his fingers failed to close upon it. His gaze flicked toward her. He cursed again and stared pointedly at his blaster thrust through her belt.

She ignored his stare and nodded toward the animal. “His name’s Shifter. He’s…well, I call him a chameleopard, and I’d kill anyone who tried to shoot him.”

Kerry favoured her with a cold look. “Delightful pets you have.”

“It’s only one, and yes, he is quite cute actually. Are you going to be able to walk?”

“It was my chest that was injured, not my legs.”

She ignored his sarcastic tone. Gratitude obviously did not feature among his finer points.

Available from Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Beloved-Enemy-Destiny-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B01BBCBYCS

And The WildRose Press: https://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-titles/3770-beloved-enemy.html

AUTHOR BIO

[image error]Hywela Lyn spent most of her life in Wales and the beautiful countryside and legends inspired her to write. Although she now lives in a small village in England, she is very proud of her Welsh heritage and background. She enjoys weaving romantic tales of the future, and distant, mysterious worlds. Her pen name is a combination of her first two names.’Hywela’ is Welsh and her first name but it was never used and she has always been called by her second Christian name, Lyn. One thing remains constant in her writing: The power of love. Love, not only between her hero and heroine, but between friends and siblings, and for their particular world and the creatures that share it.

She is crazy about all animals, especially horses. She lives with her long suffering husband, Dave, and her horse, Flying T’pau, a feral cat, Dusty, and an adopted lovable but slightly manic terrier called Choccy.

Hywela Lyn’s debut novel, ‘Starquest’, a futuristic romance is published by The Wild Rose Press who also published her second book in the Destiny Trilogy, ‘Children Of The Mist’. Beloved Enemy, the third book in this series, was shortlisted for the UK Romantic Novelist’s Association Romance Novel Of the Year Award, 2017, 2nd Runner Up in the RONEs 2017 and winner of the ‘Best Banter’ Contest 2017, run by the MMRWA.

LINKS:

AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE: https://www.amazon.com/Hywela-Lyn/e/B002BMBXH4/

WILD ROSE PRESS AUTHOR PAGE – http://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/138_hywela-lyn

WEBSITE / BLOG – http://www.hywelalyn.co.uk

http://www.hywelalyn.blogspot.com

FACEBOOK – https://www.facebook.com/HywelaLynAuthor?ref=hl

Filed under: Furbaby Friday Tagged: animal therapy, Author Hywela Lyn, Author writing companion, horse, riding, romance, Sci-fi, show horse, therapy, Wales, Welsh Cob horse

Christmas is a time when you get homesick — even when you’re home. ~Carol Nelson

As evident from this family photo of me and my three siblings, I was a big Christmas lover as a kid. ***Note. Hum Somewhere in My Memory from Home Alone as you read this.

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From age three until not quite six, I lived in Taiwan with my parents and younger brother, John, where my mom and dad taught English at Tunghai University. Christmas gifts were hand-me-downs from other Missionary families, which John and I were ecstatic to receive. We knew no better than gently used toys, until our family returned to America and we discovered modern toy stores, television, and were bombarded with commercials. The stupendous merchandise wowed us, and we were ardent believers in everything Christmas.

My grandmother, called Mommom, prepared for the big day all year long and was a devotee of the holiday. She made Christmas a mystical blend of the Nativity and Santa Claus, which worked for me. The generous old guy in the red suit was equally devoted to Christmas and a great boon to a family with limited funds. However, I learned Santa could be touchy and kept a naughty list. I hoped he had absentmindedly omitted my name. Fortunately, I also learned the Christ Child forgave sins, and prayed Jesus gave Santa a heads-up on the forgiving Beth thing. A miracle transpired because I never got switches in my stocking as my ancestral Uncle Gus was said to have done. That horrifying tale struck fear into his descendants, and I was super good those last few days before Saint Nick’s timely arrival.

Visiting Mommom and my aunt, uncle, and five cousins at the old Virginia homeplace for Christmas was like being part of a Hallmark movie. Nothing could match the wonder I experienced there as a child. My uncle even reported seeing reindeer hoof prints in the snow on the roof, and one year a jovial neighbor dressed up as Santa–I recognized him– came to the house to delight us kids. I was concerned this facade might offend the REAL guy, and he’d stay away. But we heard the sleigh bells out in the meadow, as we did each Christmas Eve. The warning jingle sent us scrambling to bed before Santa’s arrival, and inspired the title of my holiday romance, Somewhere the Bells Ring. The home in this ghostly time slip Christmas romance was also inspired by the homeplace pictured below. Built in 1816, Chapel Hill, as it’s called, has been in the family for generations and is where I spent some magical holidays.

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(Virginia Family homeplace in the Shenandoah Valley)

With such fantastic childhood memories, Christmas as a bigger kid/adult was a bit of a letdown. Maybe it is for everyone. Christmas really belongs to children, but I still cherish it in my heart. As Scrooge says after hard lessons learned, “I will honor Christmas in my heart and try to keep it all the year.” And so I do.

My mantle is perpetually decorated with angels and lights. Also a Dalek Supreme and the Tardis…a little random, I suppose. Still, it’s festive year round. The holidays can be rather overwhelming. I try to keep our celebration simple but fun, especially for the small people in my life. I truly must love Christmas because I’ve written three romances with the holiday as a central theme and I’m pondering a fourth. Maybe with an angel in the story…I love angels. But not the weeping kind, thanks to the creepy ones in Doctor Who.

Don’t blink.

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(My mantle)

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(I especially love angels.)

Several years ago, my mother found a number of vintage Christmas cards in an old trunk. This marvelous find took us on a trip down memory lane, back to people who lived before I was born. I’m terrible about remembering to send cards, but these are great. I may have shared some of them before, but here’s another look at a few.

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(Vintage Santa and a Norman Rockwell print on cards among Mom’s finds.)

Somewhere the Bells Ring (Somewhere in Time)

Blurb:

December 1968: Caught with pot in her dorm room, Bailey Randolph is exiled to a relative’s ancestral home in Virginia to straighten herself out. Banishment to Maple Hill is dismal, until a ghost appears requesting her help. Bailey is frightened but intrigued. Then her girlhood crush, Eric Burke, arrives and suddenly Maple Hill isn’t so bad.  To Eric, wounded in Vietnam, his military career shattered, this homecoming feels no less like exile. But when he finds Bailey at Maple Hill, her fairy-like beauty gives him reason to hope–until she tells him about the ghost haunting the house. Then he wonders if her one experiment with pot has made her crazy.

As Bailey and Eric draw closer, he agrees to help her find a long-forgotten Christmas gift the ghost wants. But will the magic of Christmas be enough to make Eric believe–in Bailey and the ghost–before the Christmas bells ring?~

I really think Hallmark is waiting for me with this story.

From Romancing the Book: “Ms. Trissel captivates her reader from the moment you start reading the first page. She has written a compelling love story that spans some fifty plus years and keeps you entertained every step of the way with the story within a story…I fell in love with her characters and look forward to the next delightful story ready with Kleenex box in hand. A must read for every romance fan.” ~Reviewed by Robin

Somewhere the Bells Ring is available in eBook from all online booksellers. Plus a smashing new audio version from Audible is out at Amazon. For the kindle and audio visit:

Follow my Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Beth-Trissel/e/B002BLLAJ6/

(Tag from the earlier 20th century)

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Filed under: Christmas Tagged: angels, Beth Trissel, childhood memories, Christmas romance, holiday romance, old family homeplace, Somewhere in my Memory, Vintage Christmas cards