Kristy McCaffrey's Blog: Author Kristy McCaffrey, page 8
July 5, 2018
Win A Print Copy Of BLUE SAGE!!
My contemporary western romance long novella, BLUE SAGE, is now available in print (as well as digital). To celebrate, how about a giveaway?
Prize --> 3 print copies of BLUE SAGE
Enter --> Send an email to kristy@kristymccaffrey.com with CONTEST in subject line. I'll collect a physical address when I contact the winners.
Deadline --> I'll randomly pick 3 winners from all entrants on Monday, July 9, 2018. (Winners must be a U.S. resident; if winner is international, an eBook will be substituted.)
Good luck!
Read Chapter One of BLUE SAGE here.
June 13, 2018
Into The Land Of Shadows by Kristy McCaffrey - June #blogabookscene #westernromance #prairierosepubs @prairierosepubs
By Kristy McCaffrey
Blog-a-Book-Scene is a monthly themed blogging endeavor from a group of authors who love to share excerpts from their stories. Find us on Twitter with the hashtag #blogabookscene and #PrairieRosePubs.
June's theme is On The Road Again. This excerpt is from my historical western paranormal romance novel, Into The Land Of Shadows, in which Ethan Barstow decides to help Kate Kinsella find his brother, who he believes is her fiance.
Excerpt
Kate wondered how far she’d get on foot before the man standing a few feet away caught her and did God-knew-what.
Ethan Barstow.
Of all her bad luck. She had never met the man, but Charley’s recollections of his brother filled her head. Liar. Swindler. Killer.
“You must be Charley’s fiancée,” he said, watching her closely, his gaze dark.
Swell. He knew who she was. She nodded, deciding now wasn’t the time to share the truth about her and Charley's relationship. Instinct told her she needed to ditch Mister Barstow, but losing the donkey was a bit of a problem. Maybe she could find the animal herself on foot. But what if the three buffoons who’d stolen her horse were still out there?
“I arrived in Flagstaff three days ago looking for Charley,” Ethan said. “I was told he’d left town unexpectedly so I’ve been trailing him. I take it you don’t know where he is, either?”
She cleared her throat. “No, I don’t.”
“Is there some reason why he wouldn’t tell you where he was going?”
Well, it’s not me, but Agnes he didn’t tell. It was far too complicated to explain, least of all to this man, so she uttered, “We’ve had a bit of a misunderstanding.”
“Yeah, Charley and I’ve had a bit of a misunderstanding as well,” Ethan said quietly, almost to himself.
Kate plastered the biggest smile she could onto her face. “I think I’ll just go look for that donkey myself. I really don’t want to be a bother to you.”
She moved past the man who was a dead ringer for Charley, possessing the same angular cheek bones and long nose, the same dark hair, the same lean build as her fiancé. Her fiancé! What a ridiculous mess that was. There had been a time, far back in the beginning of her acquaintance with Charley, when she’d found him attractive and fun. It had been short-lived, especially once Agnes entered the picture. Now, she was face-to-face with a man much like Charley, but while his eyes had been green and his demeanor inviting, Ethan’s eyes were blue, almost gray, like a lake frozen over.
There were other differences, as well, and none of them flattered Ethan. He was a man who had killed other men, and Kate knew she would never find anything appealing in that.
“Hang on a minute,” he said. His hand wrapped around her forearm to stop her—a large, warm hand. “I don’t suppose you have any idea who I am since Charley and I haven’t spoken in over five years, but I came to Flagstaff to hopefully put the past in the past. I came to see if Charley and I could bury our differences. The least I can do is to help you find him, especially since we’ll be kin one day.”
She made the mistake of looking into his eyes. Up close, she could see flecks of gold buried within the blue, and a few wrinkles in the skin around the edges of his eyes. It must be her imagination that he seemed the slightest bit more friendly. Charley had charm and it would seem Ethan did as well, although Kate sensed it wasn’t without shadows.
A killer of men would undoubtedly have many shadows to keep him company. She couldn’t think of how to reply. The last thing she wanted was company, and least of all Ethan’s company. She’d find her damned fiancé herself.
“Yes, it would make sense to look together.” So much for thinking fast on her feet. Her brother, Owen, had always said she was a little slow off the mark. It would seem he was right.
“You can ride Brandy,” Ethan said as he released her arm.
He moved to his other horse and began untying the bags of supplies he’d brought with him. He moved the largest satchel to his horse and tied several knots swiftly to anchor it in place. Kate chewed her lip. She could just make a run for it. The only after-effect of her fall from the donkey was a splitting headache—her legs were perfectly fine. But Ethan would probably chase her down. And then, he’d wonder what was wrong with her. And then, maybe he’d just shoot her in the back if he decided she wasn’t worth the trouble.
The image horrified her. Perhaps she should at least be civil to the man, to ward off her immediate murder. An opportunity for escape would surely present itself.
She had a plan. This was good. She would make small talk with Charley’s brother, then run for her life when she got the chance.
Copyright © 2013 K. McCaffrey LLC
Available in digital and print at Amazon and also in Kindle Unlimited.
Connect with Kristy
Website
Facebook
Twitter
Blog ~ Pathways
Newsletter
Blog-a-Book-Scene is a monthly themed blogging endeavor from a group of authors who love to share excerpts from their stories. Find us on Twitter with the hashtag #blogabookscene and #PrairieRosePubs.
June's theme is On The Road Again. This excerpt is from my historical western paranormal romance novel, Into The Land Of Shadows, in which Ethan Barstow decides to help Kate Kinsella find his brother, who he believes is her fiance.
Excerpt
Kate wondered how far she’d get on foot before the man standing a few feet away caught her and did God-knew-what.
Ethan Barstow.
Of all her bad luck. She had never met the man, but Charley’s recollections of his brother filled her head. Liar. Swindler. Killer.
“You must be Charley’s fiancée,” he said, watching her closely, his gaze dark.
Swell. He knew who she was. She nodded, deciding now wasn’t the time to share the truth about her and Charley's relationship. Instinct told her she needed to ditch Mister Barstow, but losing the donkey was a bit of a problem. Maybe she could find the animal herself on foot. But what if the three buffoons who’d stolen her horse were still out there?
“I arrived in Flagstaff three days ago looking for Charley,” Ethan said. “I was told he’d left town unexpectedly so I’ve been trailing him. I take it you don’t know where he is, either?”
She cleared her throat. “No, I don’t.”
“Is there some reason why he wouldn’t tell you where he was going?”
Well, it’s not me, but Agnes he didn’t tell. It was far too complicated to explain, least of all to this man, so she uttered, “We’ve had a bit of a misunderstanding.”
“Yeah, Charley and I’ve had a bit of a misunderstanding as well,” Ethan said quietly, almost to himself.
Kate plastered the biggest smile she could onto her face. “I think I’ll just go look for that donkey myself. I really don’t want to be a bother to you.”
She moved past the man who was a dead ringer for Charley, possessing the same angular cheek bones and long nose, the same dark hair, the same lean build as her fiancé. Her fiancé! What a ridiculous mess that was. There had been a time, far back in the beginning of her acquaintance with Charley, when she’d found him attractive and fun. It had been short-lived, especially once Agnes entered the picture. Now, she was face-to-face with a man much like Charley, but while his eyes had been green and his demeanor inviting, Ethan’s eyes were blue, almost gray, like a lake frozen over.
There were other differences, as well, and none of them flattered Ethan. He was a man who had killed other men, and Kate knew she would never find anything appealing in that.
“Hang on a minute,” he said. His hand wrapped around her forearm to stop her—a large, warm hand. “I don’t suppose you have any idea who I am since Charley and I haven’t spoken in over five years, but I came to Flagstaff to hopefully put the past in the past. I came to see if Charley and I could bury our differences. The least I can do is to help you find him, especially since we’ll be kin one day.”
She made the mistake of looking into his eyes. Up close, she could see flecks of gold buried within the blue, and a few wrinkles in the skin around the edges of his eyes. It must be her imagination that he seemed the slightest bit more friendly. Charley had charm and it would seem Ethan did as well, although Kate sensed it wasn’t without shadows.
A killer of men would undoubtedly have many shadows to keep him company. She couldn’t think of how to reply. The last thing she wanted was company, and least of all Ethan’s company. She’d find her damned fiancé herself.
“Yes, it would make sense to look together.” So much for thinking fast on her feet. Her brother, Owen, had always said she was a little slow off the mark. It would seem he was right.
“You can ride Brandy,” Ethan said as he released her arm.
He moved to his other horse and began untying the bags of supplies he’d brought with him. He moved the largest satchel to his horse and tied several knots swiftly to anchor it in place. Kate chewed her lip. She could just make a run for it. The only after-effect of her fall from the donkey was a splitting headache—her legs were perfectly fine. But Ethan would probably chase her down. And then, he’d wonder what was wrong with her. And then, maybe he’d just shoot her in the back if he decided she wasn’t worth the trouble.
The image horrified her. Perhaps she should at least be civil to the man, to ward off her immediate murder. An opportunity for escape would surely present itself.
She had a plan. This was good. She would make small talk with Charley’s brother, then run for her life when she got the chance.
Copyright © 2013 K. McCaffrey LLC
Available in digital and print at Amazon and also in Kindle Unlimited.
Connect with Kristy
Website
Blog ~ Pathways
Newsletter
June 4, 2018
How are the energy vortexes of Sedona related to my cowboy romance story?
By Kristy McCaffrey
Cathedral Rock, Sedona, Arizona.
Photo by Kristy McCaffrey
Sedona—located a two-hour drive north of Phoenix, Arizona—is a place where spiritual and psychic energies are enhanced. While the entire town is considered to be an energy vortex, there are specific areas that people visit for maximum meditation enjoyment. The top four Sedona vortexes are located at Airport Mesa, Cathedral Rock, Bell Rock, and Boynton Canyon. Each spot radiates its own particular energy, some producing energy that flows upward while others have energy spiraling downward and entering the earth.
How did Sedona get so famous? Her reputation as a spiritual center got quite a boost in 1987 when a man named José Arguelles, a New Age artist and author, stated that a great Harmonic Convergence would take place in August, based on dates provided in a 1971 book called Lord of the Dawn by Tony Shearer. During this convergence, the earth would start slipping out of its “time beam” and risk spinning off into space, and there would be a higher incidence of déjà vu and UFO sightings. Only through the focused psychic efforts of the human race would the earth remain in place. If enough people gathered at sacred sites around the world then a New Age would begin, and the earth would remain safe and enter a new era of harmony and love. Of course, we know that our home did not spin wildly into space, perhaps because of this widespread moment of meditation of which Sedona was a major player. :-)
My daughter and I at the saddle of Cathedral
Rock, Sedona, Arizona.
But more importantly, what are these spiritual cracks in the earth? The answer may be tied to ley lines—magnetic pathways that likely hold the secret to bird, mammal, and even bacterial migrations. Confirmation by modern measurements has shown these lines to flow in gentle curves along the lay of the land. Most humans can sense a difference in a local magnetic field of only a few gammas; energetic places like Sedona have anomalies that are far stronger.
In my recently re-released western romance, BLUE SAGE, Braden and Audrey find a place with magical properties, not far from Sedona.
What do you do when a woman literally lands at your feet?
Braden Delaney has taken over the family cattle business after the death of his father, but faced with difficult financial decisions, he contemplates selling a portion of the massive Delaney ranch holdings known as Whisper Rock, a place of unusual occurrences. The sudden appearance of a pretty relic-hunter while he’s collecting his livestock, however, is about to change his mind.
Archaeologist Audrey Driggs arrives in the remote wilderness of Northern Arizona for clues to a life-altering experience from her childhood. When she rolls off a mountain and lands at the feet of rugged cowboy Braden Delaney, it’s clear she needs his knowledge of the area to complete her quest. But if she tells him the truth, will he think she’s crazy?
Together, they’ll uncover a long-lost secret.
(This long novella was previously published in the anthology A COWBOY TO KEEP, and I’ve added minor updates to the text.)
Now Available:
Kindle
Nook
iBooks
Kobo
Google Play
Goodreads
Print coming soon.
Excerpt
The damned calf was stuck in the brambles again.
Braden Delaney swung down from his horse, his spurs jangling, and approached the mewling youngster. The calf thrashed in a mess of bushes beneath a stately juniper tree with shredded, red-colored bark. It reminded Braden of pulled-pork barbecue. It was on the menu tonight if Lewis, wrangler and cook during roundups, had been telling the truth this morning before the five of them had headed out.
It was late in the day and Braden’s stomach rumbled in response.
He’d take care of this problem and then head back to base camp—two airstream trailers and a horse trailer with a built-in bunk for Braden.
Braden knocked the brim of his Stetson up a notch and went to work prying the animal from the tangled jumble of branches. His gloved hands made fast work of the situation, and before long he’d set the calf on all fours. The animal took off at a lope, headed toward a band of larger cows, one of whom was likely his mama.
“You’re welcome,” Braden uttered under his breath.
It was the third rescue he’d performed on the calf in the past two days. The contrary little beast had a knack for wandering and getting into untenable predicaments. He should just usher it to the makeshift corral a few miles to the southeast, but Braden wasn’t quite ready to bring in this cluster of cattle, and he didn’t want to separate the calf from its mother.
Billy Lasco, his range foreman, would be up in a few days with two large semi-trucks to collect the cattle they’d gathered and transport them to the Delaney Ranch fifty miles to the south. Braden would guide the wayward calf and his mama into camp then. His current plan was to simply flush the cows and steers hiding out in the rocky hillside into the open plain below.
As he returned to his horse, a scream and a crash spun him around.
Had a steer just rolled down the slope? Braden circled, searching for an injured critter.
But it was no animal.
A woman lay on her back, grimacing.
Braden moved quickly to her side. “Are you all right, miss?”
She pushed to sit, leaves and sticks in her brown hair, askew in a haphazard ponytail. She wore trail pants, hiking boots and an ivory t-shirt. His eyes jerked back to the shirt, not sure he’d read correctly the word printed on it. Yep, he had. BOOBIES covered the spot where those very things resided, round and nicely shaped. Then he saw the image above the word—two birds with blue feet. Blue-footed boobies. Despite the dire situation, a smile tugged at his mouth.
Copyright © 2018 K. McCaffrey LLC
Connect with Kristy
Website
Facebook
Twitter
Blog ~ Pathways
Newsletter
Cathedral Rock, Sedona, Arizona.
Photo by Kristy McCaffrey
Sedona—located a two-hour drive north of Phoenix, Arizona—is a place where spiritual and psychic energies are enhanced. While the entire town is considered to be an energy vortex, there are specific areas that people visit for maximum meditation enjoyment. The top four Sedona vortexes are located at Airport Mesa, Cathedral Rock, Bell Rock, and Boynton Canyon. Each spot radiates its own particular energy, some producing energy that flows upward while others have energy spiraling downward and entering the earth.
How did Sedona get so famous? Her reputation as a spiritual center got quite a boost in 1987 when a man named José Arguelles, a New Age artist and author, stated that a great Harmonic Convergence would take place in August, based on dates provided in a 1971 book called Lord of the Dawn by Tony Shearer. During this convergence, the earth would start slipping out of its “time beam” and risk spinning off into space, and there would be a higher incidence of déjà vu and UFO sightings. Only through the focused psychic efforts of the human race would the earth remain in place. If enough people gathered at sacred sites around the world then a New Age would begin, and the earth would remain safe and enter a new era of harmony and love. Of course, we know that our home did not spin wildly into space, perhaps because of this widespread moment of meditation of which Sedona was a major player. :-)
My daughter and I at the saddle of Cathedral
Rock, Sedona, Arizona.
But more importantly, what are these spiritual cracks in the earth? The answer may be tied to ley lines—magnetic pathways that likely hold the secret to bird, mammal, and even bacterial migrations. Confirmation by modern measurements has shown these lines to flow in gentle curves along the lay of the land. Most humans can sense a difference in a local magnetic field of only a few gammas; energetic places like Sedona have anomalies that are far stronger.
In my recently re-released western romance, BLUE SAGE, Braden and Audrey find a place with magical properties, not far from Sedona.
What do you do when a woman literally lands at your feet?
Braden Delaney has taken over the family cattle business after the death of his father, but faced with difficult financial decisions, he contemplates selling a portion of the massive Delaney ranch holdings known as Whisper Rock, a place of unusual occurrences. The sudden appearance of a pretty relic-hunter while he’s collecting his livestock, however, is about to change his mind.
Archaeologist Audrey Driggs arrives in the remote wilderness of Northern Arizona for clues to a life-altering experience from her childhood. When she rolls off a mountain and lands at the feet of rugged cowboy Braden Delaney, it’s clear she needs his knowledge of the area to complete her quest. But if she tells him the truth, will he think she’s crazy?
Together, they’ll uncover a long-lost secret.
(This long novella was previously published in the anthology A COWBOY TO KEEP, and I’ve added minor updates to the text.)
Now Available:
Kindle
Nook
iBooks
Kobo
Google Play
Goodreads
Print coming soon.
Excerpt
The damned calf was stuck in the brambles again.
Braden Delaney swung down from his horse, his spurs jangling, and approached the mewling youngster. The calf thrashed in a mess of bushes beneath a stately juniper tree with shredded, red-colored bark. It reminded Braden of pulled-pork barbecue. It was on the menu tonight if Lewis, wrangler and cook during roundups, had been telling the truth this morning before the five of them had headed out.
It was late in the day and Braden’s stomach rumbled in response.
He’d take care of this problem and then head back to base camp—two airstream trailers and a horse trailer with a built-in bunk for Braden.
Braden knocked the brim of his Stetson up a notch and went to work prying the animal from the tangled jumble of branches. His gloved hands made fast work of the situation, and before long he’d set the calf on all fours. The animal took off at a lope, headed toward a band of larger cows, one of whom was likely his mama.
“You’re welcome,” Braden uttered under his breath.
It was the third rescue he’d performed on the calf in the past two days. The contrary little beast had a knack for wandering and getting into untenable predicaments. He should just usher it to the makeshift corral a few miles to the southeast, but Braden wasn’t quite ready to bring in this cluster of cattle, and he didn’t want to separate the calf from its mother.
Billy Lasco, his range foreman, would be up in a few days with two large semi-trucks to collect the cattle they’d gathered and transport them to the Delaney Ranch fifty miles to the south. Braden would guide the wayward calf and his mama into camp then. His current plan was to simply flush the cows and steers hiding out in the rocky hillside into the open plain below.
As he returned to his horse, a scream and a crash spun him around.
Had a steer just rolled down the slope? Braden circled, searching for an injured critter.
But it was no animal.
A woman lay on her back, grimacing.
Braden moved quickly to her side. “Are you all right, miss?”
She pushed to sit, leaves and sticks in her brown hair, askew in a haphazard ponytail. She wore trail pants, hiking boots and an ivory t-shirt. His eyes jerked back to the shirt, not sure he’d read correctly the word printed on it. Yep, he had. BOOBIES covered the spot where those very things resided, round and nicely shaped. Then he saw the image above the word—two birds with blue feet. Blue-footed boobies. Despite the dire situation, a smile tugged at his mouth.
Copyright © 2018 K. McCaffrey LLC
Connect with Kristy
Website
Blog ~ Pathways
Newsletter
May 7, 2018
INTO THE LAND OF SHADOWS By Kristy McCaffrey – May #blogabookscene #westernromance #prairierosepubs @prairierosepubs
By Kristy McCaffrey
Blog-a-Book-Scene is a monthly themed blogging endeavor from a group of authors who love to share excerpts from their stories. Find us on Twitter with the hashtag #blogabookscene and #PrairieRosePubs.
May's theme is Mayday! Mayday! This excerpt is from my historical western paranormal romance novel, Into The Land Of Shadows.
In the land of the Navajo, spirits and desire draw Ethan and Kate close, leading them deeper into the shadows and to each other.
Excerpt
“Let’s head upstream and look for a crossing.” Ethan put the map back into his saddlebag and shifted his gaze to something in the distance. “That doesn’t look good.”
Kate looked over her shoulder. Three riders approached, some distance away. Kate turned Brandy so she could have a better look. Whiskey moved so close to her daughter that Ethan’s shoulder bumped Kate’s from behind.
“That couldn’t possibly be them, could it?” she asked. Appalled that the three men who had stolen her horse were still after her, and trying her best to act as if she bumped shoulders with men she found compelling every day, she made a decision right then and there. “I’m not giving up Fred [the donkey].”
“Then move it, Kinsella,” Ethan said. He pushed Whiskey into a gallop.
They rode the horses, Fred tied behind Whiskey and moving at a good clip, up a rocky incline, climbing above the waterfall to their left. They moved faster, riding parallel to the river. Kate noticed the waterway was wide and although it didn’t look deep she really had no desire to cross so close to the waterfall. A sickening feeling of falling swept over her at the thought of plunging over the mesa.
Ethan kept pushing forward and Kate thankfully had to do very little to keep Brandy on pace with him. Kate chanced a glance over her right shoulder. The riders were moving at a faster clip. Ethan pulled his gun.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, jolted with panic. She was between Ethan and the men chasing them; was he going to shoot her?
He slowed Whiskey just a bit but didn’t take a shot. “Get on the other side of me,” he yelled.
Kate pushed Brandy ahead and to the left. Ethan protected her on one side while the river threatened to swallow her and Brandy up on the other.
The three riders gained on them and the sound of gunfire made Kate’s heart slam into her chest.
“Ride low, Kate,” Ethan commanded. He shot several times in succession and the three riders were forced to scatter. “We need to cross. Look for a low spot.”
Kate started searching the shoreline. They’d moved about a quarter-mile upriver from the waterfall so the current should have lessened but Kate really didn’t want to test that theory.
“I don’t know,” she said. “It all looks pretty much the same.”
“Then let’s go. Remember to hold tight to Brandy, especially if it gets too deep.”
Kate’s mouth went dry as she turned her horse to the left and splashed into the muddy waters. It wasn’t deep and Brandy moved swiftly. The horse jostled Kate up and down as the water rose to Brandy’s belly. Kate’s boots got wet. Brandy kept moving, but started to slow, fighting the current. Kate looked behind and saw Ethan, Whiskey, and Fred still on the shoreline. She swung her head around to look over her other shoulder. One of their assailants closed in. Kate panicked. She should do something. She tried to turn Brandy around but the horse resisted.
“Of all the times to become independent,” Kate growled. “Go back to mama, Brandy.” The horse stayed the course.
Kate looked back again. Ethan had dismounted and shooed Whiskey and Fred into the river. The two animals moved toward her, kicking up a flurry of water. Brandy wouldn’t turn around so all Kate could do was wait for the other two animals to catch them. She watched with mounting concern as Ethan took cover behind a scrub brush with a gun in one hand and a rifle in the other. Enemy number one took aim at Kate. Ethan opened fire as Kate fell off Brandy’s back and into the water.
The current pulled her feet from under her and she frantically tried to hold onto something but lost her grip on Brandy’s saddle. She moved down river with surprising speed. It wasn’t deep, but her feet slipped repeatedly every time she tried to dig her heels into the soft bottom. Her hat bobbed behind her, pulling the drawstring against her neck. She choked as much from that as from the water splashing onto her face, into her mouth, and up her nose.
I have to stop. She’d fly off the waterfall any second. Her arms flailed to find anything. She tried to swim against the current, stroking with one arm then another but gasped for breath.
She jerked to a stop. Her foot was caught on a spindly branch protruding from the swirling fluid. Grabbing the smooth wood with both hands, she prayed it would hold. She was able to stand, but only a little; the water was just below her breasts. The strong current made it impossible to get to shore. She must be close to the waterfall.
Help! Help me!
In the distance she heard a voice. “Kate. Kate!”
“Ethan!” She hoped he could hear her. “Ethan! Over here!”
She searched for him on the western bank.
“Kate!”
He was behind her atop Whiskey. Brandy and Fred were with him, as unhappy as Kate if their agitation was any indication.
“Hang on,” he yelled. “I’m gonna get you.”
He detached a circle of rope from Whiskey’s saddle, unwound it then positioned himself partially in the water.
“I’m gonna throw you the rope,” he yelled. “Grab onto it.”
She nodded, although she doubted he could see her response. Her hands felt slippery on the thin wood she grasped and her breathing came in short, rapid bursts.
Ethan spun the rope above his head and cast it upriver from her. The current brought it to her and she reached out to grab it as it floated by but she missed it by inches. She spun around her wooden anchor and almost lost her grip entirely. In a panic she struggled to grab back on. She heard her voice and realized she was screaming and crying.
“Katie! Honey, look at me,” Ethan said.
Her back was to him now. She was terrified to move. “I can’t, I can’t,” she chanted to herself. If she yelled, the force of her voice might dislodge her from the only thing keeping her from rushing over the waterfall.
Get hold of yourself, Kate. But she couldn’t. Her arms were paralyzed, and she could hardly breathe. She needed to grab the rope again when Ethan tossed it to her; she needed to just extend one hand from the safety of her barely-there tree. Move your arm. She closed her eyes and prayed for courage. A sob escaped. She couldn’t bring herself to let go. As long as she held on, she survived. If she let go, the water could push her from her only anchor. She squeezed her eyes shut again.
She’d be killed. Her mama flashed through her mind. She hadn’t spoken to her in two years, had barely corresponded via letters. And now she would die and there would be no more opportunities.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she chanted. But her mama couldn’t hear her. Neither could Owen or Petey. Or Mrs. Finley. She’d die, and she was only twenty years old.
“Katie! Look at me.” Ethan’s voice was louder, closer.
She lifted her gaze; she trembled so much that the hair hanging in her face shook. Ethan was in the water, coming toward her.
Copyright © 2013 K. McCaffrey LLC
Available in digital and print at Amazon and also in Kindle Unlimited.
Blog-a-Book-Scene is a monthly themed blogging endeavor from a group of authors who love to share excerpts from their stories. Find us on Twitter with the hashtag #blogabookscene and #PrairieRosePubs.
May's theme is Mayday! Mayday! This excerpt is from my historical western paranormal romance novel, Into The Land Of Shadows.
In the land of the Navajo, spirits and desire draw Ethan and Kate close, leading them deeper into the shadows and to each other.
Excerpt
“Let’s head upstream and look for a crossing.” Ethan put the map back into his saddlebag and shifted his gaze to something in the distance. “That doesn’t look good.”
Kate looked over her shoulder. Three riders approached, some distance away. Kate turned Brandy so she could have a better look. Whiskey moved so close to her daughter that Ethan’s shoulder bumped Kate’s from behind.
“That couldn’t possibly be them, could it?” she asked. Appalled that the three men who had stolen her horse were still after her, and trying her best to act as if she bumped shoulders with men she found compelling every day, she made a decision right then and there. “I’m not giving up Fred [the donkey].”
“Then move it, Kinsella,” Ethan said. He pushed Whiskey into a gallop.
They rode the horses, Fred tied behind Whiskey and moving at a good clip, up a rocky incline, climbing above the waterfall to their left. They moved faster, riding parallel to the river. Kate noticed the waterway was wide and although it didn’t look deep she really had no desire to cross so close to the waterfall. A sickening feeling of falling swept over her at the thought of plunging over the mesa.
Ethan kept pushing forward and Kate thankfully had to do very little to keep Brandy on pace with him. Kate chanced a glance over her right shoulder. The riders were moving at a faster clip. Ethan pulled his gun.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, jolted with panic. She was between Ethan and the men chasing them; was he going to shoot her?
He slowed Whiskey just a bit but didn’t take a shot. “Get on the other side of me,” he yelled.
Kate pushed Brandy ahead and to the left. Ethan protected her on one side while the river threatened to swallow her and Brandy up on the other.
The three riders gained on them and the sound of gunfire made Kate’s heart slam into her chest.
“Ride low, Kate,” Ethan commanded. He shot several times in succession and the three riders were forced to scatter. “We need to cross. Look for a low spot.”
Kate started searching the shoreline. They’d moved about a quarter-mile upriver from the waterfall so the current should have lessened but Kate really didn’t want to test that theory.
“I don’t know,” she said. “It all looks pretty much the same.”
“Then let’s go. Remember to hold tight to Brandy, especially if it gets too deep.”
Kate’s mouth went dry as she turned her horse to the left and splashed into the muddy waters. It wasn’t deep and Brandy moved swiftly. The horse jostled Kate up and down as the water rose to Brandy’s belly. Kate’s boots got wet. Brandy kept moving, but started to slow, fighting the current. Kate looked behind and saw Ethan, Whiskey, and Fred still on the shoreline. She swung her head around to look over her other shoulder. One of their assailants closed in. Kate panicked. She should do something. She tried to turn Brandy around but the horse resisted.
“Of all the times to become independent,” Kate growled. “Go back to mama, Brandy.” The horse stayed the course.
Kate looked back again. Ethan had dismounted and shooed Whiskey and Fred into the river. The two animals moved toward her, kicking up a flurry of water. Brandy wouldn’t turn around so all Kate could do was wait for the other two animals to catch them. She watched with mounting concern as Ethan took cover behind a scrub brush with a gun in one hand and a rifle in the other. Enemy number one took aim at Kate. Ethan opened fire as Kate fell off Brandy’s back and into the water.
The current pulled her feet from under her and she frantically tried to hold onto something but lost her grip on Brandy’s saddle. She moved down river with surprising speed. It wasn’t deep, but her feet slipped repeatedly every time she tried to dig her heels into the soft bottom. Her hat bobbed behind her, pulling the drawstring against her neck. She choked as much from that as from the water splashing onto her face, into her mouth, and up her nose.
I have to stop. She’d fly off the waterfall any second. Her arms flailed to find anything. She tried to swim against the current, stroking with one arm then another but gasped for breath.
She jerked to a stop. Her foot was caught on a spindly branch protruding from the swirling fluid. Grabbing the smooth wood with both hands, she prayed it would hold. She was able to stand, but only a little; the water was just below her breasts. The strong current made it impossible to get to shore. She must be close to the waterfall.
Help! Help me!
In the distance she heard a voice. “Kate. Kate!”
“Ethan!” She hoped he could hear her. “Ethan! Over here!”
She searched for him on the western bank.
“Kate!”
He was behind her atop Whiskey. Brandy and Fred were with him, as unhappy as Kate if their agitation was any indication.
“Hang on,” he yelled. “I’m gonna get you.”
He detached a circle of rope from Whiskey’s saddle, unwound it then positioned himself partially in the water.
“I’m gonna throw you the rope,” he yelled. “Grab onto it.”
She nodded, although she doubted he could see her response. Her hands felt slippery on the thin wood she grasped and her breathing came in short, rapid bursts.
Ethan spun the rope above his head and cast it upriver from her. The current brought it to her and she reached out to grab it as it floated by but she missed it by inches. She spun around her wooden anchor and almost lost her grip entirely. In a panic she struggled to grab back on. She heard her voice and realized she was screaming and crying.
“Katie! Honey, look at me,” Ethan said.
Her back was to him now. She was terrified to move. “I can’t, I can’t,” she chanted to herself. If she yelled, the force of her voice might dislodge her from the only thing keeping her from rushing over the waterfall.
Get hold of yourself, Kate. But she couldn’t. Her arms were paralyzed, and she could hardly breathe. She needed to grab the rope again when Ethan tossed it to her; she needed to just extend one hand from the safety of her barely-there tree. Move your arm. She closed her eyes and prayed for courage. A sob escaped. She couldn’t bring herself to let go. As long as she held on, she survived. If she let go, the water could push her from her only anchor. She squeezed her eyes shut again.
She’d be killed. Her mama flashed through her mind. She hadn’t spoken to her in two years, had barely corresponded via letters. And now she would die and there would be no more opportunities.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she chanted. But her mama couldn’t hear her. Neither could Owen or Petey. Or Mrs. Finley. She’d die, and she was only twenty years old.
“Katie! Look at me.” Ethan’s voice was louder, closer.
She lifted her gaze; she trembled so much that the hair hanging in her face shook. Ethan was in the water, coming toward her.
Copyright © 2013 K. McCaffrey LLC
Available in digital and print at Amazon and also in Kindle Unlimited.
Phuket Elephant Sanctuary
By Kristy McCaffrey
I've recently returned from accompanying my husband on a business trip to Thailand, and I had the wonderful opportunity to visit the Phuket Elephant Sanctuary in Phuket. They rescue older elephants from the logging and tourism industries and do so by directly purchasing the animals with charity funds. They currently have 8 elephants in their care, most of whom have health issues and/or injuries.
In Thailand, there are many opportunities to 'ride' an elephant. Please don't support this industry. Training involves breaking a very young animal's spirit and the process is quite abusive and horrific. Additional tactics to keep the elephants in line are also harmful and kept well-hidden from the public. Phuket Elephant Sanctuary is one of several places trying to help these magnificent creatures.
To learn more, visit their website.
Here are some photos from my visit.
To see more photos, please visit my 'other' blog. :-)
Cheers!!
I've recently returned from accompanying my husband on a business trip to Thailand, and I had the wonderful opportunity to visit the Phuket Elephant Sanctuary in Phuket. They rescue older elephants from the logging and tourism industries and do so by directly purchasing the animals with charity funds. They currently have 8 elephants in their care, most of whom have health issues and/or injuries.
In Thailand, there are many opportunities to 'ride' an elephant. Please don't support this industry. Training involves breaking a very young animal's spirit and the process is quite abusive and horrific. Additional tactics to keep the elephants in line are also harmful and kept well-hidden from the public. Phuket Elephant Sanctuary is one of several places trying to help these magnificent creatures.
To learn more, visit their website.
Here are some photos from my visit.
To see more photos, please visit my 'other' blog. :-)
Cheers!!
April 19, 2018
My Trip To Havana, Cuba
By Kristy McCaffrey
My husband and I recently took a cruise to Cuba with several other couples, and we spent two days in Havana. This visit was a strange mix of curiosity and perplexity about what life is like for a Cuban.
Havana is the capital and largest city of Cuba, which is the largest island in the Caribbean. It’s located 90 miles from Key West, Florida, and has a whopping 11 million residents. Many dance styles such as the Bolero, the Mambo, and the Cha Cha were created here.
To visit Cuba, you cannot come as a tourist. There are 12 ways to enter the country—we came via the people-to-people educational branch, which required us to engage with the Cuban people in some type of meaningful exchange. (We did this by taking several tours.) We are required to keep documentation pertaining to this for five years.
Watching the approach into Havana.
Old Havana.
Coming into port, we immediately noticed that only two ships can be docked at a time. The remaining berths were in decay. This would be a common theme as we made our way around Old Havana.
My husband on the streets of Old Havana.
No shortage of rum in Cuba.
Wall display at the rum shop.
Our first tour was to a rum factory, except that it was closed, so we were instead ushered to two different gift shops. This didn’t really bother us—we’ve traveled before and are always willing to contribute to the local economy by purchasing souvenirs. But since my husband and I aren’t rum drinkers, we were more eager for the cigar factory tour. Here, dozens of workers hand-rolled the famous Cuban cigar, and it was fascinating. Employees may keep 5 cigars per day, and many of them sell these under the table. My husband was able to buy several that had just been rolled. When he smoked one a few hours later, he said it was the best cigar he’d ever had.
Workers making cigars in Havana, Cuba.
It wasn't openly acknowledged, but my husband was able to buy several cigars
(freshly rolled) directly from a few of the workers.
My husband enjoying his spoils.
The local beer and a cola. This was the first country I've ever traveled to with no Coke products.
My husband and I at Sloppy Joe's Bar in Havana, considered to be one of the most famous bars in the world. It reopened in 2013
after being closed for 48 years. It was the inspiration for the New Jersey Sloppy Joe sandwich, but not the one most common today. This one consists of deli meats, swiss cheese, coleslaw, and Russian dressing.
My husband with a cigar and a Cuban sandwich. I have very few photos of my dearest WITHOUT a cigar in hand. On a side note: the Cuban sandwich didn't originate in Cuba, but rather in Florida.
Cuba is a communist nation, and I won’t lie, it was hard to stomach at times because you can’t help but feel frustrated for what the Cuban people must put up with. Only ten television stations broadcast locally and satellite dishes are illegal. There is Internet, but it can only be used in city hotspots such as parks, and I wonder how throttled back it is. Families are only allowed to own one property, although in 2011 a law was passed that they could sell it and purchase another, but it could only be a cash deal. The government owns just about everything, and “I’ll pretend to work because you pretend to pay me” is very apt for many people. Schooling is free, medical care is free, but it’s only mandatory to attend school until 9th grade. University is free and it’s a matter of prestige to study law or medicine or engineering, but most people can’t make enough money in these professions, so we were told to not be surprised if a hotel bellboy is a doctor. The tourist industry offers one way for an extra income, and the Cubans were happy to welcome us.
This street in Havana was featured in The Fast and the Furious 8 film.
The people are positive and vibrant, but they seem conflicted. The tour companies want to share the history of the Cuban people and try to redeem what Castro did (he dismantled the wealthy by giving away all of their property—Cuba claims to have zero homelessness). Coming from a democracy, many in our tour group actively argued with our guide, something I’ve never encountered in my travels. The ideals of Castro may have been sound in theory (the wealthy were corrupt and had to be taken down), but he appointed himself a dictator in the process. And the Cuban people have suffered for it.
La Bodeguita del Medis, one of Ernest Hemingway's watering holes.
La Bodeguita del Medis in Havana.
Here’s a very condensed history of Cuba.
Cuba is considered a part of Latin America culture, deriving its customs from the aboriginal Taino and Ciboney peoples, the long period of Spanish colonialism, the introduction of African slaves, and a close relationship with the Soviet Union during the Cold War.
Cuba is located in the northern Caribbean where the Caribbean Sea, the Gulf of Mexico, and the Atlantic Ocean meet.
The only cars that Cuban citizens can own legally are ones created and bought before 1959. Most are used as taxis.
The United States acquired Cuba after the Spanish-American War via the Treaty of Paris of 1898, along with Puerto Rico, Guam, and the Philippines. Cuba gained independence from the U.S. in 1902. Under Cuba’s new constitution, the U.S. retained the right to intervene in Cuban affairs and to oversee its finances and foreign relations, as well as leasing the Guantánamo Bay naval base, which interestingly enough, Cuba considers to be illegal.
While a succession of leaders led to political and social corruption, the country managed to prosper in the 1920s with a booming tourist industry supported by American-owned hotels and restaurants. But a collapse in the price of sugar led to a series of revolts and leadership changes, culminating with the dominance of Fulgencio Batista, a military sergeant who soon implemented an array of repressive policies. Despite this, by the late 1940s, a stable middle class had been created through an influx of investment capital.
We saw only a few stray dogs, but an abundance of cats. Most are fed by locals and appear to be in good health.
But in 1952 Batista once again came to power, and his policies widened the gap between the rich and the poor. He suspended the constitution, revoked many political liberties, and aligned himself with the rich sugar plantation owners. In retaliation to this flagrant corruption, Batista was forced into exile in 1958 by a man named Fidel Castro.
Initially, the U.S. supported this Castro Uprising (better known as the Cuban Revolution), but when Castro legalized the Communist Party and executed hundreds of Batista supporters, the relationship between the two countries deteriorated. He also took land from the rich, many of whom were American citizens. Between 1960 and 1964, the U.S. imposed a total ban on trade between the countries, so Castro signed a commercial agreement with the Soviets. When the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991, Cuba suffered a severe economic downturn.
My husband waits to cross the street. Havana is a dichotomy of past and present. Our cruise ship can be seen in the background.
In 2008, Fidel Castro resigned as President and his brother, Raúl, took over, promising to remove some of the restrictions on freedom for the Cuban people. In 2013, Cubans were allowed to leave the country and return as long as they had a passport and a national ID card (in 1961, if residents wanted to depart they needed an exit visa which was rarely granted). However, a passport costs the equivalent of five months’ salary, so only Cubans with paying relatives abroad can take advantage of this.
Since the 1960s, the U.S. has imposed an embargo against Cuba, known as “el bloqueo” or “the blockade” among Cubans. It consists of economic sanctions against Cuba and restrictions on Cuban travel and commerce for all people and companies under U.S jurisdiction. In 2016, the Obama administration relaxed two of the restrictions, which allowed easier travel to Cuba and more commerce between the countries, but most other embargo restrictions have remained in effect. Proponents for the embargo argue that Cuba has not met conditions for removing it, which include transitioning to a democracy and improving human rights. Those against it say that it should be lifted because the failed policy is a Cold War relic and has clearly not achieved its goals. The sanctions are hurting the U.S. economy as well as Cuban citizens.
The National Capitol Building of Havana in the distance is of a similar design to the U.S. Capitol Building.
On June 16, 2017, President Trump cancelled the Obama administration’s easing of travel and trade restrictions, enforcing the ban on tourism. Effective November 9, 2017, U.S. visitors to Cuba must travel with an organization rather than on their own, so one of the few ways to visit is by a sanctioned cruise itinerary.
Would I recommend visiting Cuba? For a vacation, no. Old Havana is in disrepair and the food is average. There is also a confusing system of two currencies (the one we used—known locally as Kooks—was tied to the U.S. Dollar; the other one—used by the local population—is not; this is yet another way the government suppresses the population). But as an eye-opening experience to a culture sliding away while struggling to stay afloat on the world stage? Yes, it’s worth a look. As my husband says, “Cuba is for the traveler, not the tourist.” Maybe one day that will change, because there is so much potential here, and the people deserve better. And they do have some of the best cigars, rum, and coffee in the world.
Our traveling buddies.
My husband and I recently took a cruise to Cuba with several other couples, and we spent two days in Havana. This visit was a strange mix of curiosity and perplexity about what life is like for a Cuban.
Havana is the capital and largest city of Cuba, which is the largest island in the Caribbean. It’s located 90 miles from Key West, Florida, and has a whopping 11 million residents. Many dance styles such as the Bolero, the Mambo, and the Cha Cha were created here.
To visit Cuba, you cannot come as a tourist. There are 12 ways to enter the country—we came via the people-to-people educational branch, which required us to engage with the Cuban people in some type of meaningful exchange. (We did this by taking several tours.) We are required to keep documentation pertaining to this for five years.
Watching the approach into Havana.
Old Havana.
Coming into port, we immediately noticed that only two ships can be docked at a time. The remaining berths were in decay. This would be a common theme as we made our way around Old Havana.
My husband on the streets of Old Havana.
No shortage of rum in Cuba.
Wall display at the rum shop.
Our first tour was to a rum factory, except that it was closed, so we were instead ushered to two different gift shops. This didn’t really bother us—we’ve traveled before and are always willing to contribute to the local economy by purchasing souvenirs. But since my husband and I aren’t rum drinkers, we were more eager for the cigar factory tour. Here, dozens of workers hand-rolled the famous Cuban cigar, and it was fascinating. Employees may keep 5 cigars per day, and many of them sell these under the table. My husband was able to buy several that had just been rolled. When he smoked one a few hours later, he said it was the best cigar he’d ever had.
Workers making cigars in Havana, Cuba.
It wasn't openly acknowledged, but my husband was able to buy several cigars
(freshly rolled) directly from a few of the workers.
My husband enjoying his spoils.
The local beer and a cola. This was the first country I've ever traveled to with no Coke products.
My husband and I at Sloppy Joe's Bar in Havana, considered to be one of the most famous bars in the world. It reopened in 2013
after being closed for 48 years. It was the inspiration for the New Jersey Sloppy Joe sandwich, but not the one most common today. This one consists of deli meats, swiss cheese, coleslaw, and Russian dressing.
My husband with a cigar and a Cuban sandwich. I have very few photos of my dearest WITHOUT a cigar in hand. On a side note: the Cuban sandwich didn't originate in Cuba, but rather in Florida.
Cuba is a communist nation, and I won’t lie, it was hard to stomach at times because you can’t help but feel frustrated for what the Cuban people must put up with. Only ten television stations broadcast locally and satellite dishes are illegal. There is Internet, but it can only be used in city hotspots such as parks, and I wonder how throttled back it is. Families are only allowed to own one property, although in 2011 a law was passed that they could sell it and purchase another, but it could only be a cash deal. The government owns just about everything, and “I’ll pretend to work because you pretend to pay me” is very apt for many people. Schooling is free, medical care is free, but it’s only mandatory to attend school until 9th grade. University is free and it’s a matter of prestige to study law or medicine or engineering, but most people can’t make enough money in these professions, so we were told to not be surprised if a hotel bellboy is a doctor. The tourist industry offers one way for an extra income, and the Cubans were happy to welcome us.
This street in Havana was featured in The Fast and the Furious 8 film.
The people are positive and vibrant, but they seem conflicted. The tour companies want to share the history of the Cuban people and try to redeem what Castro did (he dismantled the wealthy by giving away all of their property—Cuba claims to have zero homelessness). Coming from a democracy, many in our tour group actively argued with our guide, something I’ve never encountered in my travels. The ideals of Castro may have been sound in theory (the wealthy were corrupt and had to be taken down), but he appointed himself a dictator in the process. And the Cuban people have suffered for it.
La Bodeguita del Medis, one of Ernest Hemingway's watering holes.
La Bodeguita del Medis in Havana.
Here’s a very condensed history of Cuba.
Cuba is considered a part of Latin America culture, deriving its customs from the aboriginal Taino and Ciboney peoples, the long period of Spanish colonialism, the introduction of African slaves, and a close relationship with the Soviet Union during the Cold War.
Cuba is located in the northern Caribbean where the Caribbean Sea, the Gulf of Mexico, and the Atlantic Ocean meet.
The only cars that Cuban citizens can own legally are ones created and bought before 1959. Most are used as taxis.
The United States acquired Cuba after the Spanish-American War via the Treaty of Paris of 1898, along with Puerto Rico, Guam, and the Philippines. Cuba gained independence from the U.S. in 1902. Under Cuba’s new constitution, the U.S. retained the right to intervene in Cuban affairs and to oversee its finances and foreign relations, as well as leasing the Guantánamo Bay naval base, which interestingly enough, Cuba considers to be illegal.
While a succession of leaders led to political and social corruption, the country managed to prosper in the 1920s with a booming tourist industry supported by American-owned hotels and restaurants. But a collapse in the price of sugar led to a series of revolts and leadership changes, culminating with the dominance of Fulgencio Batista, a military sergeant who soon implemented an array of repressive policies. Despite this, by the late 1940s, a stable middle class had been created through an influx of investment capital.
We saw only a few stray dogs, but an abundance of cats. Most are fed by locals and appear to be in good health.
But in 1952 Batista once again came to power, and his policies widened the gap between the rich and the poor. He suspended the constitution, revoked many political liberties, and aligned himself with the rich sugar plantation owners. In retaliation to this flagrant corruption, Batista was forced into exile in 1958 by a man named Fidel Castro.
Initially, the U.S. supported this Castro Uprising (better known as the Cuban Revolution), but when Castro legalized the Communist Party and executed hundreds of Batista supporters, the relationship between the two countries deteriorated. He also took land from the rich, many of whom were American citizens. Between 1960 and 1964, the U.S. imposed a total ban on trade between the countries, so Castro signed a commercial agreement with the Soviets. When the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991, Cuba suffered a severe economic downturn.
My husband waits to cross the street. Havana is a dichotomy of past and present. Our cruise ship can be seen in the background.
In 2008, Fidel Castro resigned as President and his brother, Raúl, took over, promising to remove some of the restrictions on freedom for the Cuban people. In 2013, Cubans were allowed to leave the country and return as long as they had a passport and a national ID card (in 1961, if residents wanted to depart they needed an exit visa which was rarely granted). However, a passport costs the equivalent of five months’ salary, so only Cubans with paying relatives abroad can take advantage of this.
Since the 1960s, the U.S. has imposed an embargo against Cuba, known as “el bloqueo” or “the blockade” among Cubans. It consists of economic sanctions against Cuba and restrictions on Cuban travel and commerce for all people and companies under U.S jurisdiction. In 2016, the Obama administration relaxed two of the restrictions, which allowed easier travel to Cuba and more commerce between the countries, but most other embargo restrictions have remained in effect. Proponents for the embargo argue that Cuba has not met conditions for removing it, which include transitioning to a democracy and improving human rights. Those against it say that it should be lifted because the failed policy is a Cold War relic and has clearly not achieved its goals. The sanctions are hurting the U.S. economy as well as Cuban citizens.
The National Capitol Building of Havana in the distance is of a similar design to the U.S. Capitol Building.
On June 16, 2017, President Trump cancelled the Obama administration’s easing of travel and trade restrictions, enforcing the ban on tourism. Effective November 9, 2017, U.S. visitors to Cuba must travel with an organization rather than on their own, so one of the few ways to visit is by a sanctioned cruise itinerary.
Would I recommend visiting Cuba? For a vacation, no. Old Havana is in disrepair and the food is average. There is also a confusing system of two currencies (the one we used—known locally as Kooks—was tied to the U.S. Dollar; the other one—used by the local population—is not; this is yet another way the government suppresses the population). But as an eye-opening experience to a culture sliding away while struggling to stay afloat on the world stage? Yes, it’s worth a look. As my husband says, “Cuba is for the traveler, not the tourist.” Maybe one day that will change, because there is so much potential here, and the people deserve better. And they do have some of the best cigars, rum, and coffee in the world.
Our traveling buddies.
April 5, 2018
Reviews By Kristy
All Reviews By Kristy McCaffrey
(Links are to Amazon, but many of these books are available at B&N, iBooks, Kobo, and Google Play.)
This epic novel alternates between two women—Catherine Velis, a computer expert living in New York City in 1972, and Mireille de Rémy, a novice at Montglane Abbey in the south of France in 1790. Their fates are intertwined due to the Montglane Chess Service, an ancient (and possibly magical) chess set once owned by Charlemagne. As both women are compelled into searching for the chess pieces scattered around the world, their lives are forever changed, because entering the Game means a race for unlimited power. This novel was published in the 1970s but still holds up today. Ms. Neville has woven fiction around history, with many famous players showing up—Catherine the Great, Napoleon Bonaparte, and French mathematician Fourier—and the resulting story is so seamless that you will be hard-pressed to distinguish fact from fabrication. She also deeply explores the science behind her fictional Montglane Service, and you won’t be disappointed by the revelations. I guarantee you’ll never look at the game of chess the same again. This is a gripping, hard-to-put-down novel that will make you feel smarter from having read it. I highly recommend.
The Eight by Katherine Neville
*****
In 1876, sixteen-year-old Nel Higgins suffers at the hands of her abusive pastor father while trying to protect her younger siblings and her mother. When tragedy strikes, she is forced to face the world in ways she’d never imagined. She and her younger sister, Annie, soon find themselves on the famous riverboat, the Far West, and are swept into the violence and heartbreak of Custer’s Last Stand.
The entire book is told in diary entries and it is to Ms. Jeppsen’s credit that this technique works so well. I was riveted to the story and couldn’t put it down. Nel is an engaging character, who is, at turns, frightened and heroic. She filters life’s events through an impassioned lens of curiosity. You will cheer her along while hoping for the happily-ever-after she so deserves. A heartfelt and captivating tale.
Far West by Linell Jeppsen
*****
For centuries, rogue waves have been the topic of myth and local lore, stories shared by ancient sailors who spoke of their colossal size and destructive force. Even today, with the technological advances of satellite tracking and computer modeling, we are still unable to accurately predict these giant monsters. Ms. Casey delves into the scientists who study them and the brave surfers who attempt to ride them. She writes about Lituya Bay in Alaska, a protected inlet just north of Sitka, and the freak waves that have repeatedly scoured the steep canyon walls and killed whomever happened to be in their path. In 1854, a purported 395-foot wave ripped through the bay with such force that the bark was stripped from trees. Casey also interviews marine salvagers and the nonstop work they do in a stretch of water in the Indian Ocean known as the Agulhas Current, which lies along the tip of South Africa. Numerous freighters and cargo ships are frequently in trouble in these waters, some disappearing before aid can be rendered with no trace of crew or cargo. Giant waves can literally snap a vessel in half.
Why do these waves occur? Seismic activity and underwater geological formations play a role, as does the climate. Her conclusions are chilling, especially considering climate change. If you live on the west coast of the United States, the threat of a destructive tsunami is very real. But the most interesting part of the book is the big wave surfers such as Laird Hamilton. These men (and, at the time of the book’s publication, one woman) chase random and behemoth waves around the globe in the hope of riding one. Hamilton fine-tuned the art of tow surfing specifically to reach ocean conditions of this type. The surfers’ relationship to the unfathomable power of these waves is inspiring and outrageous and humbling.
The Wave is filled with hard science, heartbreaking disaster, and frightening predictions of future tsunamis hitting coastal cities. It’s also a testament to our desire to challenge the awesome sovereignty of nature.
The Wave by Susan Casey
*****
Fighter pilot Alisa Marchenko has been left stranded after suffering injuries during a war in which her side—the Alliance—overcame the tyranny of the Empire. She decides to steal a freighter to return to her home planet in order to retrieve her daughter. With Mica, an Alliance engineer, by her side, they compile a motley crew which includes a bodyguard named Beck and an Empire cyborg named Leonidas, although he’s more man than machine. A few passengers come along as well and soon become major characters as they fight off pirates and attempt to learn why a cyborg facility was massacred.
This is a fun story filled with action, adventure, a strong heroine in Alisa and a brooding yet honorable hero in Leonidas. This is the first of a multi-book series, so many plot points aren’t immediately resolved but it promises to be an entertaining saga.
Star Nomad (Fallen Empire Book 1) by Lindsay Buroker
*****
In the near future, London is policed by an army in search of clairvoyants. Those who possess such gifts commit treason simply by existing. Paige Mahoney is a dreamwalker, a very rare voyant, making her valuable to the criminal underworld. When she is caught and imprisoned, she believes death will be her fate. She soon learns, however, that something worse is at play. Living side-by-side with humans are a race called the Rephaim, and they also covet Paige’s gift. She’s placed under the care of a Rephaite called Warden, but it quickly becomes clear that humans are slaves of the Rephaim. If Paige hopes to escape, she must get close to her otherworldly captor, but that proves even more dangerous as she develops feelings for him. The Bone Season is an ambitious first novel, and while the world building was somewhat confusing at times, I was swept along with the story, flying through the pages to see how it would end. Thankfully, there’s a second book available to pick up where this one ends.
The Bone Season by Samantha Shannon
*****
Scottish Highlander Iain MacKinnon captures an Englishman’s daughter in retaliation for the kidnapping of his young son. As he bargains for a trade, it becomes clear that the Englishman has no interest in his daughter Page. While Iain gains his son, he also must ponder what to do with the girl. Feeling that no one should be denied by their father, he takes her with him. The bulk of the story encompasses the growing relationship between Iain and Page. This is an old school romance novel with an emphasis on inner dialogue and lengthy love scenes, and I loved it. Iain is a tortured and compelling hero, and Page is a plucky heroine despite the circumstances. The romance was smoldering, and I cheered the ultimate happily-ever-after.
The Mackinnon’s Bride (The Highland Brides Book 1) by Tanya Anne Crosby
*****
English soldier Piers Montgomerie, also known as Lyon, has been given land in Scotland as a reward for service. As he struggles to make peace with the Highlanders that surround him, Meghan Brodie literally walks right into his hands. Once he lays eyes on her, he knows that his world has changed dramatically. Marrying her will solidify his standing with the Brodie clan—Meghan’s three brothers—but even more than the advantageous union, Lyon comes to realize that Meghan is unlike any other woman he has ever known. This is a wonderfully compelling romance of a stern hero hiding deep philosophical angst and a headstrong heroine struggling to be seen for her mind rather than her beauty. Their banter is delightful and, at times, downright hilarious. I couldn’t put this down and read it nearly straight through. If you’re looking for a sigh-worthy romance with a dash of humor and some major heat, then this book is for you.
Lyon’s Gift (The Highland Brides Book 2) by Tanya Anne Crosby
*****
Seana lives in the forest away from the major clans but is desperate to find a better home for her ailing father. She has convinced herself that she loves Broc, but with him showing little interest in her beyond friendship, she turns to Colin Brodie—Broc’s best friend—for help. Colin has a reputation with the ladies that is hardly a secret, and when Seana starts to fall for him she knows it’s the stupidest thing she’s ever done. I have to admit that I was very curious to see how Colin and Seana would come together, and Ms. Crosby did a fine job with it. It was very romantic and believable, with a dash of Scottish magic thrown in. But would you expect anything less in this wonderful series?
On Bended Knee (The Highland Brides Book 3) by Tanya Anne Crosby
*****
Why does a seasoned hunter die when catastrophe strikes in the wilderness, but a four-year-old child manages to stay alive? What separates the victim from the survivor? Mr. Gonzales has written a comprehensive book on the subject, analyzing accounts of tragic misfortunes for clues. And at the center lies the brain. How quickly a human adapts to a rapidly deteriorating situation—whether it be the sinking of a boat in the ocean or a broken limb on a mountainside or the imprisonment in a World War II German POW camp—has everything to do with letting go of preconceived notions of how the situation should be and instead facing the reality of what lay before them and how to develop a plan of action. We must plan, but we must be able to let go of the plan as well.
Gonzales states, “The environment we’re used to is designed to sustain us. We live like fish in an aquarium. Food comes mysteriously down, oxygen bubbles up. We are the domestic pets of a human zoo we call civilization. Then we go into nature, where we are least among equals with all other creatures. There we are put to the test. Most of us sleep through the test. We get in and out and never know what might have been demanded. Such an experience can make us even more vulnerable, for we come away with the illusion of growing hardy, salty, knowledgeable.”
In the end, he boils it down to the following rules of adventure: perceive, believe, then act—intelligence is a matter of “guessing well.” Avoid impulsive behavior; don’t hurry. Know your stuff—a deep knowledge of the world may save your life. Get the information you need for the activity you plan to engage in. Commune with the dead—meaning, understand how other people got into trouble and why they died. And most importantly, be humble. Embrace the beginner’s mind. A Navy Seal commander stated that “the Rambo types are the first to go.”
A comprehensive and well-written book.
Deep Survival by Laurence Gonzales
*****
This is an excellent resource for an author to understand his/her work in the context of the current e-publishing market. While Quinn’s advice seems obvious, it surprised me how much I gained from her insights. I’ve written for both love and money, and now I can put both to rest in my mind instead of struggling endlessly to sell a book that might not be all that marketable. And, as Quinn states, that’s okay. Along the same lines, writing for money is an important tool that an author must understand if they hope to find some measure of success with a writing career. While other books present similar ideas, Ms. Quinn offers it in a fast, easy-to-digest format.
For Love Or Money by Susan Kaye Quinn
(Links are to Amazon, but many of these books are available at B&N, iBooks, Kobo, and Google Play.)
This epic novel alternates between two women—Catherine Velis, a computer expert living in New York City in 1972, and Mireille de Rémy, a novice at Montglane Abbey in the south of France in 1790. Their fates are intertwined due to the Montglane Chess Service, an ancient (and possibly magical) chess set once owned by Charlemagne. As both women are compelled into searching for the chess pieces scattered around the world, their lives are forever changed, because entering the Game means a race for unlimited power. This novel was published in the 1970s but still holds up today. Ms. Neville has woven fiction around history, with many famous players showing up—Catherine the Great, Napoleon Bonaparte, and French mathematician Fourier—and the resulting story is so seamless that you will be hard-pressed to distinguish fact from fabrication. She also deeply explores the science behind her fictional Montglane Service, and you won’t be disappointed by the revelations. I guarantee you’ll never look at the game of chess the same again. This is a gripping, hard-to-put-down novel that will make you feel smarter from having read it. I highly recommend.
The Eight by Katherine Neville
*****
In 1876, sixteen-year-old Nel Higgins suffers at the hands of her abusive pastor father while trying to protect her younger siblings and her mother. When tragedy strikes, she is forced to face the world in ways she’d never imagined. She and her younger sister, Annie, soon find themselves on the famous riverboat, the Far West, and are swept into the violence and heartbreak of Custer’s Last Stand.
The entire book is told in diary entries and it is to Ms. Jeppsen’s credit that this technique works so well. I was riveted to the story and couldn’t put it down. Nel is an engaging character, who is, at turns, frightened and heroic. She filters life’s events through an impassioned lens of curiosity. You will cheer her along while hoping for the happily-ever-after she so deserves. A heartfelt and captivating tale.
Far West by Linell Jeppsen
*****
For centuries, rogue waves have been the topic of myth and local lore, stories shared by ancient sailors who spoke of their colossal size and destructive force. Even today, with the technological advances of satellite tracking and computer modeling, we are still unable to accurately predict these giant monsters. Ms. Casey delves into the scientists who study them and the brave surfers who attempt to ride them. She writes about Lituya Bay in Alaska, a protected inlet just north of Sitka, and the freak waves that have repeatedly scoured the steep canyon walls and killed whomever happened to be in their path. In 1854, a purported 395-foot wave ripped through the bay with such force that the bark was stripped from trees. Casey also interviews marine salvagers and the nonstop work they do in a stretch of water in the Indian Ocean known as the Agulhas Current, which lies along the tip of South Africa. Numerous freighters and cargo ships are frequently in trouble in these waters, some disappearing before aid can be rendered with no trace of crew or cargo. Giant waves can literally snap a vessel in half.
Why do these waves occur? Seismic activity and underwater geological formations play a role, as does the climate. Her conclusions are chilling, especially considering climate change. If you live on the west coast of the United States, the threat of a destructive tsunami is very real. But the most interesting part of the book is the big wave surfers such as Laird Hamilton. These men (and, at the time of the book’s publication, one woman) chase random and behemoth waves around the globe in the hope of riding one. Hamilton fine-tuned the art of tow surfing specifically to reach ocean conditions of this type. The surfers’ relationship to the unfathomable power of these waves is inspiring and outrageous and humbling.
The Wave is filled with hard science, heartbreaking disaster, and frightening predictions of future tsunamis hitting coastal cities. It’s also a testament to our desire to challenge the awesome sovereignty of nature.
The Wave by Susan Casey
*****
Fighter pilot Alisa Marchenko has been left stranded after suffering injuries during a war in which her side—the Alliance—overcame the tyranny of the Empire. She decides to steal a freighter to return to her home planet in order to retrieve her daughter. With Mica, an Alliance engineer, by her side, they compile a motley crew which includes a bodyguard named Beck and an Empire cyborg named Leonidas, although he’s more man than machine. A few passengers come along as well and soon become major characters as they fight off pirates and attempt to learn why a cyborg facility was massacred.
This is a fun story filled with action, adventure, a strong heroine in Alisa and a brooding yet honorable hero in Leonidas. This is the first of a multi-book series, so many plot points aren’t immediately resolved but it promises to be an entertaining saga.
Star Nomad (Fallen Empire Book 1) by Lindsay Buroker
*****
In the near future, London is policed by an army in search of clairvoyants. Those who possess such gifts commit treason simply by existing. Paige Mahoney is a dreamwalker, a very rare voyant, making her valuable to the criminal underworld. When she is caught and imprisoned, she believes death will be her fate. She soon learns, however, that something worse is at play. Living side-by-side with humans are a race called the Rephaim, and they also covet Paige’s gift. She’s placed under the care of a Rephaite called Warden, but it quickly becomes clear that humans are slaves of the Rephaim. If Paige hopes to escape, she must get close to her otherworldly captor, but that proves even more dangerous as she develops feelings for him. The Bone Season is an ambitious first novel, and while the world building was somewhat confusing at times, I was swept along with the story, flying through the pages to see how it would end. Thankfully, there’s a second book available to pick up where this one ends.
The Bone Season by Samantha Shannon
*****
Scottish Highlander Iain MacKinnon captures an Englishman’s daughter in retaliation for the kidnapping of his young son. As he bargains for a trade, it becomes clear that the Englishman has no interest in his daughter Page. While Iain gains his son, he also must ponder what to do with the girl. Feeling that no one should be denied by their father, he takes her with him. The bulk of the story encompasses the growing relationship between Iain and Page. This is an old school romance novel with an emphasis on inner dialogue and lengthy love scenes, and I loved it. Iain is a tortured and compelling hero, and Page is a plucky heroine despite the circumstances. The romance was smoldering, and I cheered the ultimate happily-ever-after.
The Mackinnon’s Bride (The Highland Brides Book 1) by Tanya Anne Crosby
*****
English soldier Piers Montgomerie, also known as Lyon, has been given land in Scotland as a reward for service. As he struggles to make peace with the Highlanders that surround him, Meghan Brodie literally walks right into his hands. Once he lays eyes on her, he knows that his world has changed dramatically. Marrying her will solidify his standing with the Brodie clan—Meghan’s three brothers—but even more than the advantageous union, Lyon comes to realize that Meghan is unlike any other woman he has ever known. This is a wonderfully compelling romance of a stern hero hiding deep philosophical angst and a headstrong heroine struggling to be seen for her mind rather than her beauty. Their banter is delightful and, at times, downright hilarious. I couldn’t put this down and read it nearly straight through. If you’re looking for a sigh-worthy romance with a dash of humor and some major heat, then this book is for you.
Lyon’s Gift (The Highland Brides Book 2) by Tanya Anne Crosby
*****
Seana lives in the forest away from the major clans but is desperate to find a better home for her ailing father. She has convinced herself that she loves Broc, but with him showing little interest in her beyond friendship, she turns to Colin Brodie—Broc’s best friend—for help. Colin has a reputation with the ladies that is hardly a secret, and when Seana starts to fall for him she knows it’s the stupidest thing she’s ever done. I have to admit that I was very curious to see how Colin and Seana would come together, and Ms. Crosby did a fine job with it. It was very romantic and believable, with a dash of Scottish magic thrown in. But would you expect anything less in this wonderful series?
On Bended Knee (The Highland Brides Book 3) by Tanya Anne Crosby
*****
Why does a seasoned hunter die when catastrophe strikes in the wilderness, but a four-year-old child manages to stay alive? What separates the victim from the survivor? Mr. Gonzales has written a comprehensive book on the subject, analyzing accounts of tragic misfortunes for clues. And at the center lies the brain. How quickly a human adapts to a rapidly deteriorating situation—whether it be the sinking of a boat in the ocean or a broken limb on a mountainside or the imprisonment in a World War II German POW camp—has everything to do with letting go of preconceived notions of how the situation should be and instead facing the reality of what lay before them and how to develop a plan of action. We must plan, but we must be able to let go of the plan as well.
Gonzales states, “The environment we’re used to is designed to sustain us. We live like fish in an aquarium. Food comes mysteriously down, oxygen bubbles up. We are the domestic pets of a human zoo we call civilization. Then we go into nature, where we are least among equals with all other creatures. There we are put to the test. Most of us sleep through the test. We get in and out and never know what might have been demanded. Such an experience can make us even more vulnerable, for we come away with the illusion of growing hardy, salty, knowledgeable.”
In the end, he boils it down to the following rules of adventure: perceive, believe, then act—intelligence is a matter of “guessing well.” Avoid impulsive behavior; don’t hurry. Know your stuff—a deep knowledge of the world may save your life. Get the information you need for the activity you plan to engage in. Commune with the dead—meaning, understand how other people got into trouble and why they died. And most importantly, be humble. Embrace the beginner’s mind. A Navy Seal commander stated that “the Rambo types are the first to go.”
A comprehensive and well-written book.
Deep Survival by Laurence Gonzales
*****
This is an excellent resource for an author to understand his/her work in the context of the current e-publishing market. While Quinn’s advice seems obvious, it surprised me how much I gained from her insights. I’ve written for both love and money, and now I can put both to rest in my mind instead of struggling endlessly to sell a book that might not be all that marketable. And, as Quinn states, that’s okay. Along the same lines, writing for money is an important tool that an author must understand if they hope to find some measure of success with a writing career. While other books present similar ideas, Ms. Quinn offers it in a fast, easy-to-digest format.
For Love Or Money by Susan Kaye Quinn
March 17, 2018
Seven Things About My Writing Life by Kristy McCaffrey
By Kristy McCaffrey
I recently came across an old post on Facebook from a few years back in which my author friends were challenging one another to reveal seven things about their writing life. And since I’ve been a bit brain dead lately from promoting my latest release, I thought I’d regurgitate my response into a blog post. Reuse and recycle, as my husband likes to say.
1. An early spark of interest in writing occurred when I was young and read Mary Stewart’s King Arthur Trilogy. I remember wondering how in the world she came up with her dialogue.
2. My first real writing happened in high school. I penned fan fiction in Anne McCaffrey’s Dragonriders of Pern universe (I’m not related to her, unfortunately). I had one of my Pern stories published in a fanzine. I was so very excited. I have to give a shout-out to my mom because she helped me to write it.
3. My first published novel was also the first full-length book I ever wrote (The Wren). Yep, I had no rejection letters. (I have some now.) I was with a small press run by a wonderful woman who gave me a break, but the editor she assigned did very little editing and I was too green to do anything about it. I’ve since cleaned up that early version, although it’s still not my most polished book. But it’s one of my favorites, teaching me much about plot, character, and writing from the heart.
4. Why I started out writing westerns is a mystery to me because it’s so dang hard. I know nothing about guns or horses, and history was never my favorite subject in school. However, I’m anal about research and always do quite a bit for each project.
5. My writing routine has changed over the years, but one constant remains—writing a story is like riding a rollercoaster with my eyes closed. I hang on and hope I’m good enough to get to the end.
6. I figure out most of my story problems when I first wake up. My husband thinks I’m a late sleeper, but I’ve usually been awake for a while before heading to the kitchen. (Hubby and I both work from home.)
7. I tend to see stories in symbols. (I view everyday life this way, too.) I’m always looking for archetypal moments in a tale, times when there’s a double-meaning in a scene, or a larger picture than what the details convey. This isn’t a fast process, and I’ve frequently come up short when trying to finish a work quickly. I’ve always felt that writers are, in essence, healers. A good story can patch up a weary soul.
Time to get back on the rollercoaster…
Did you know there's a free follow-up novella to my new book DEEP BLUE? Sign up for my dedicated Pathways newsletter and get the download code today for a digital copy of DEEP BLUE: AUSTRALIA.
I recently came across an old post on Facebook from a few years back in which my author friends were challenging one another to reveal seven things about their writing life. And since I’ve been a bit brain dead lately from promoting my latest release, I thought I’d regurgitate my response into a blog post. Reuse and recycle, as my husband likes to say.
1. An early spark of interest in writing occurred when I was young and read Mary Stewart’s King Arthur Trilogy. I remember wondering how in the world she came up with her dialogue.
2. My first real writing happened in high school. I penned fan fiction in Anne McCaffrey’s Dragonriders of Pern universe (I’m not related to her, unfortunately). I had one of my Pern stories published in a fanzine. I was so very excited. I have to give a shout-out to my mom because she helped me to write it.
3. My first published novel was also the first full-length book I ever wrote (The Wren). Yep, I had no rejection letters. (I have some now.) I was with a small press run by a wonderful woman who gave me a break, but the editor she assigned did very little editing and I was too green to do anything about it. I’ve since cleaned up that early version, although it’s still not my most polished book. But it’s one of my favorites, teaching me much about plot, character, and writing from the heart.
4. Why I started out writing westerns is a mystery to me because it’s so dang hard. I know nothing about guns or horses, and history was never my favorite subject in school. However, I’m anal about research and always do quite a bit for each project.
5. My writing routine has changed over the years, but one constant remains—writing a story is like riding a rollercoaster with my eyes closed. I hang on and hope I’m good enough to get to the end.
6. I figure out most of my story problems when I first wake up. My husband thinks I’m a late sleeper, but I’ve usually been awake for a while before heading to the kitchen. (Hubby and I both work from home.)
7. I tend to see stories in symbols. (I view everyday life this way, too.) I’m always looking for archetypal moments in a tale, times when there’s a double-meaning in a scene, or a larger picture than what the details convey. This isn’t a fast process, and I’ve frequently come up short when trying to finish a work quickly. I’ve always felt that writers are, in essence, healers. A good story can patch up a weary soul.
Time to get back on the rollercoaster…
Did you know there's a free follow-up novella to my new book DEEP BLUE? Sign up for my dedicated Pathways newsletter and get the download code today for a digital copy of DEEP BLUE: AUSTRALIA.
February 26, 2018
DEEP BLUE releases today!! @McCaffreyKristy #romance #oceanadventure
It's here!! I hope you'll join me on an ocean adventure with a determined shark researcher, a hunky underwater filmmaker, and a bevy of great white sharks.
In the deep blue ocean lives an ancient predator…
Dr. Grace Mann knows great white sharks. As the daughter of an obsessed shark researcher based at the Farallon Islands, Grace spent her childhood in the company of these elegant and massive creatures. When a photo of her freediving with a great white goes viral, the institute where she works seeks to capitalize on her new-found fame by producing a documentary about her work.
Underwater filmmaker Alec Galloway admires Dr. Mann and jumps at the opportunity to create a film showcasing the pretty biologist. As he heads to Guadalupe Island in Baja California Sur for a three-week expedition, it’s clear that his fan-boy crush on Grace is turning into something more serious. But even more pressing—Grace’s passionate focus on the sharks just might get her killed.
How about another excerpt?
“I’ve only had one ex who drew blood,” Alec said. “How’d you get the bite?”
The waitress reappeared with two more tall beakers of beer. She also set a basket of wings on the table. “It’s from John.”
“Thank you,” Grace said, a hungry glint in her gaze as she looked at the food.
The waitress grabbed the previous glasses, now empty, then left them alone once again. Grace unrolled her napkin and removed the silverware tucked inside, then pushed the edge of the white cloth into the neckline of her dress. She grabbed a wing, dipped it into the accompanying cup of ranch dressing, and ate like a ravenous teenage boy.
“Why didn’t you say something?” Alec said.
“What do you mean?” Barbecue sauce smeared her upper lip.
“I’ll buy you dinner if you’re hungry.”
“This isn’t a date, Galloway.”
No, it wasn’t. “Got it,” he said, annoyed by the sting of her comment.
Apparently with Dr. Mann it was two steps forward and one step back. He snatched a wing since she was already on her second one. At the rate she was going, he’d be lucky to get another.
“So?” he prompted, biting into the spicy meat. “The scar?”
“Right. It was a great white.”
“But you said you only freedived that one time in the presence of a white.”
She dropped a carcass of bones back into the basket and licked her fingers. “It happened when I was a kid. My dad spent several months each year stationed at the Farallon Islands researching the whites.” She removed the napkin at her neck, wiped her mouth, then her hands. “Once Chloe and I were old enough, he’d bring us along for a week or two at a time.” She laughed. “My mom hated it. She didn’t think it was safe. My dad and I agreed never to tell her how bad it was when I got bit, but Chloe eventually spilled it. After that, Mom threatened to never let us go again, but Dad eventually wore her down.”
Alec stared at her, slack-jawed. The Farallones—a collection of granite peaks jutting from the Pacific Ocean and known as the Devil’s Teeth—were just a hop, skip, and a jump from San Francisco Bay. The water was undeniably cold year-round, not to mention murky, and the weather was hell most of the time. “You got in the water around the Farallones?” he uttered in stunned disbelief. “When you were a kid?”
She’d finally wiped most of the wing sauce from her appendages, although a faint smear still rested on her cheek. When she looked at him again, she paused, noticing his shock. “It wasn’t on purpose. I was out with Dad on the small outboard he used to visit shark attacks on the seals when the love of his life bumped us. I was perched on the gunwale. It was entirely bad luck.”
“No shit,” he choked out.
“I fell in, and a big beautiful sister sideswiped me, ripping off my lifejacket like it was a piece of tissue. Her teeth grazed my neck enough to slice it open, but thankfully it wasn’t a deep wound.”
“A sister?”
“It’s what the researchers call the large females, the twenty-footers. There’s only ever been a handful of them documented over the years. They generally travel alone and always dominate the feeding grounds.” Her eyes went glassy. “There’s nothing like them anywhere on earth. They’re a sight to behold.”
“How old were you?”
“Twelve. Dad yanked me out before Bonnie came around for another pass.”
Where had he heard that name before?
Recognition surfaced. “I think I know your shark.”
“Really?” Excitement animated her face.
Overcome with an urge to touch her, Alec grabbed his napkin and wiped the sauce from her face. She immediately brushed her fingers across both cheeks, attempting to find anything else left behind.
“You’re good,” he muttered, reluctantly withdrawing his hand.
“Well?” she prompted, her complexion flush in a rosy glow.
But he knew it wasn’t for him. If he’d learned anything about Grace Mann in the last day and a half, it was that it wasn’t just her father who’d had a love affair with great whites—his daughter was head over heels as well.
“I dived the Farallones once, and only once, two years ago. Even now, it still makes my heart skip a beat and my palms sweat.”
Copyright © 2018 K. McCaffrey LLC
Purchase Links for Digital Copies
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Amazon CA
Amazon AU
Amazon IN
iBooks
Nook
Kobo
Google Play
Also available in print.
And I've got a special treat for my newsletter subscribers - an exclusive novella not available anywhere else.
When shark researcher Grace Mann accompanies her boyfriend, underwater filmmaker Alec Galloway, to Western Australia for a commercial shoot with great whites, she envisions relaxing days in the sun and smoldering nights between the sheets. But as Alec’s mood becomes increasingly distant, Grace worries that maybe the chemistry they shared—so effortless in the beginning—was starting to fizzle. Is his reticence related to her, or something else? And can she find a way to help him get the footage he needs before his behavior places his life in danger?
Current newsletter subscribers will receive the download code this week. Keep an eye on your inbox. If you're not a subscriber, sign-up here.
In the deep blue ocean lives an ancient predator…
Dr. Grace Mann knows great white sharks. As the daughter of an obsessed shark researcher based at the Farallon Islands, Grace spent her childhood in the company of these elegant and massive creatures. When a photo of her freediving with a great white goes viral, the institute where she works seeks to capitalize on her new-found fame by producing a documentary about her work.
Underwater filmmaker Alec Galloway admires Dr. Mann and jumps at the opportunity to create a film showcasing the pretty biologist. As he heads to Guadalupe Island in Baja California Sur for a three-week expedition, it’s clear that his fan-boy crush on Grace is turning into something more serious. But even more pressing—Grace’s passionate focus on the sharks just might get her killed.
How about another excerpt?
“I’ve only had one ex who drew blood,” Alec said. “How’d you get the bite?”
The waitress reappeared with two more tall beakers of beer. She also set a basket of wings on the table. “It’s from John.”
“Thank you,” Grace said, a hungry glint in her gaze as she looked at the food.
The waitress grabbed the previous glasses, now empty, then left them alone once again. Grace unrolled her napkin and removed the silverware tucked inside, then pushed the edge of the white cloth into the neckline of her dress. She grabbed a wing, dipped it into the accompanying cup of ranch dressing, and ate like a ravenous teenage boy.
“Why didn’t you say something?” Alec said.
“What do you mean?” Barbecue sauce smeared her upper lip.
“I’ll buy you dinner if you’re hungry.”
“This isn’t a date, Galloway.”
No, it wasn’t. “Got it,” he said, annoyed by the sting of her comment.
Apparently with Dr. Mann it was two steps forward and one step back. He snatched a wing since she was already on her second one. At the rate she was going, he’d be lucky to get another.
“So?” he prompted, biting into the spicy meat. “The scar?”
“Right. It was a great white.”
“But you said you only freedived that one time in the presence of a white.”
She dropped a carcass of bones back into the basket and licked her fingers. “It happened when I was a kid. My dad spent several months each year stationed at the Farallon Islands researching the whites.” She removed the napkin at her neck, wiped her mouth, then her hands. “Once Chloe and I were old enough, he’d bring us along for a week or two at a time.” She laughed. “My mom hated it. She didn’t think it was safe. My dad and I agreed never to tell her how bad it was when I got bit, but Chloe eventually spilled it. After that, Mom threatened to never let us go again, but Dad eventually wore her down.”
Alec stared at her, slack-jawed. The Farallones—a collection of granite peaks jutting from the Pacific Ocean and known as the Devil’s Teeth—were just a hop, skip, and a jump from San Francisco Bay. The water was undeniably cold year-round, not to mention murky, and the weather was hell most of the time. “You got in the water around the Farallones?” he uttered in stunned disbelief. “When you were a kid?”
She’d finally wiped most of the wing sauce from her appendages, although a faint smear still rested on her cheek. When she looked at him again, she paused, noticing his shock. “It wasn’t on purpose. I was out with Dad on the small outboard he used to visit shark attacks on the seals when the love of his life bumped us. I was perched on the gunwale. It was entirely bad luck.”
“No shit,” he choked out.
“I fell in, and a big beautiful sister sideswiped me, ripping off my lifejacket like it was a piece of tissue. Her teeth grazed my neck enough to slice it open, but thankfully it wasn’t a deep wound.”
“A sister?”
“It’s what the researchers call the large females, the twenty-footers. There’s only ever been a handful of them documented over the years. They generally travel alone and always dominate the feeding grounds.” Her eyes went glassy. “There’s nothing like them anywhere on earth. They’re a sight to behold.”
“How old were you?”
“Twelve. Dad yanked me out before Bonnie came around for another pass.”
Where had he heard that name before?
Recognition surfaced. “I think I know your shark.”
“Really?” Excitement animated her face.
Overcome with an urge to touch her, Alec grabbed his napkin and wiped the sauce from her face. She immediately brushed her fingers across both cheeks, attempting to find anything else left behind.
“You’re good,” he muttered, reluctantly withdrawing his hand.
“Well?” she prompted, her complexion flush in a rosy glow.
But he knew it wasn’t for him. If he’d learned anything about Grace Mann in the last day and a half, it was that it wasn’t just her father who’d had a love affair with great whites—his daughter was head over heels as well.
“I dived the Farallones once, and only once, two years ago. Even now, it still makes my heart skip a beat and my palms sweat.”
Copyright © 2018 K. McCaffrey LLC
Purchase Links for Digital Copies
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Amazon CA
Amazon AU
Amazon IN
iBooks
Nook
Kobo
Google Play
Also available in print.
And I've got a special treat for my newsletter subscribers - an exclusive novella not available anywhere else.
When shark researcher Grace Mann accompanies her boyfriend, underwater filmmaker Alec Galloway, to Western Australia for a commercial shoot with great whites, she envisions relaxing days in the sun and smoldering nights between the sheets. But as Alec’s mood becomes increasingly distant, Grace worries that maybe the chemistry they shared—so effortless in the beginning—was starting to fizzle. Is his reticence related to her, or something else? And can she find a way to help him get the footage he needs before his behavior places his life in danger?
Current newsletter subscribers will receive the download code this week. Keep an eye on your inbox. If you're not a subscriber, sign-up here.
February 10, 2018
Pre-Order DEEP BLUE by Kristy McCaffrey
I'm excited to share that DEEP BLUE is now available for pre-order at all e-book vendors!! Buy now and it will automatically load onto your e-reader on February 26.
Don’t miss this first book in a sexy and suspenseful new series!!
In the deep blue ocean lives an ancient predator…
Dr. Grace Mann knows great white sharks. As the daughter of an obsessed shark researcher based at the Farallon Islands, Grace spent her childhood in the company of these elegant and massive creatures. When a photo of her freediving with a great white goes viral, the institute where she works seeks to capitalize on her new-found fame by producing a documentary about her work.
Underwater filmmaker Alec Galloway admires Dr. Mann and jumps at the opportunity to create a film showcasing the pretty biologist. As he heads to Guadalupe Island in Baja California Sur for a three-week expedition, it’s clear that his fan-boy crush on Grace is turning into something more serious. But even more pressing—Grace’s passionate focus on the sharks just might get her killed.
Contains strong language and sexual content.
Read Chapter One at my website.
Additional Excerpt
“Have you ever been filmed before?” Alec asked.
“For a full-blown feature?” Grace lifted her glass to her mouth again and downed a big gulp. Either she was very thirsty or nervous. If it was the latter—and he hoped it was—then maybe she wasn’t immune to him after all.
All the bullshit about workplace romances circled inside his head for a brief, annoying moment. If she gave him a chance, would it be worth the risk of screwing up their professional relationship? Would he have the strength to say no to a woman like her?
“No.” She answered her own question.
Shaking off his randy thoughts, he said, “I’ll want to film just about everything you do, and we’ll likely need to set up shots as well. And I’ll do direct interviews as we go.”
“Just like The Bachelorette.”
“I do want you to speak openly about your feelings for every shark,” he teased.
“I don’t know. It’s usually better not to show all your cards at once.”
Alec loosened his tie. “But then you might lose that one special fish.” He unbuttoned his left cuff link and rolled the sleeve to his forearm.
“There’re plenty more where he came from.”
He repeated the action on his right arm. “The best ones are always endangered.”
He enjoyed the sparkle in her eye as she gave a slight smirk and a blush crept up her face.
She definitely wasn’t immune to him. He couldn’t keep the shit-eating grin from his face.
“Don’t get too happy, Galloway.” She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. “Stewart said he hasn’t told you everything about the expedition.”
“And?”
She paused, pressing her lips together. “I’m planning to do something I’ve never done before at Guadalupe. I’m going to freedive with the whites. I know you have a lot of experience filming sharks, but this will be different. You’ll likely have to leave the cage. I need to know that you’re up for it.”
Alec watched her. The dark burgundy lipstick was long gone, and she hadn’t bothered to replace it. He preferred women without a lot of fluff, but when Grace cleaned up, she was nothing short of stunning. But what really grabbed him, especially now, was the gleam in her eyes as she spoke about her work.
“My partners and I can use rebreathers.” The lack of bubbles and noise from a rebreather was exactly why Alec used one for long dives, but they were riskier than normal scuba equipment, so he didn’t operate one unless needed. “And I’ve been outside the cage before. How many times have you freedived with whites?”
Grace cleared her throat and licked her lips. “Including my famous photo? Once.”
Copyright © 2018 K. McCaffrey LLC
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Don’t miss this first book in a sexy and suspenseful new series!!
In the deep blue ocean lives an ancient predator…
Dr. Grace Mann knows great white sharks. As the daughter of an obsessed shark researcher based at the Farallon Islands, Grace spent her childhood in the company of these elegant and massive creatures. When a photo of her freediving with a great white goes viral, the institute where she works seeks to capitalize on her new-found fame by producing a documentary about her work.
Underwater filmmaker Alec Galloway admires Dr. Mann and jumps at the opportunity to create a film showcasing the pretty biologist. As he heads to Guadalupe Island in Baja California Sur for a three-week expedition, it’s clear that his fan-boy crush on Grace is turning into something more serious. But even more pressing—Grace’s passionate focus on the sharks just might get her killed.
Contains strong language and sexual content.
Read Chapter One at my website.
Additional Excerpt
“Have you ever been filmed before?” Alec asked.
“For a full-blown feature?” Grace lifted her glass to her mouth again and downed a big gulp. Either she was very thirsty or nervous. If it was the latter—and he hoped it was—then maybe she wasn’t immune to him after all.
All the bullshit about workplace romances circled inside his head for a brief, annoying moment. If she gave him a chance, would it be worth the risk of screwing up their professional relationship? Would he have the strength to say no to a woman like her?
“No.” She answered her own question.
Shaking off his randy thoughts, he said, “I’ll want to film just about everything you do, and we’ll likely need to set up shots as well. And I’ll do direct interviews as we go.”
“Just like The Bachelorette.”
“I do want you to speak openly about your feelings for every shark,” he teased.
“I don’t know. It’s usually better not to show all your cards at once.”
Alec loosened his tie. “But then you might lose that one special fish.” He unbuttoned his left cuff link and rolled the sleeve to his forearm.
“There’re plenty more where he came from.”
He repeated the action on his right arm. “The best ones are always endangered.”
He enjoyed the sparkle in her eye as she gave a slight smirk and a blush crept up her face.
She definitely wasn’t immune to him. He couldn’t keep the shit-eating grin from his face.
“Don’t get too happy, Galloway.” She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. “Stewart said he hasn’t told you everything about the expedition.”
“And?”
She paused, pressing her lips together. “I’m planning to do something I’ve never done before at Guadalupe. I’m going to freedive with the whites. I know you have a lot of experience filming sharks, but this will be different. You’ll likely have to leave the cage. I need to know that you’re up for it.”
Alec watched her. The dark burgundy lipstick was long gone, and she hadn’t bothered to replace it. He preferred women without a lot of fluff, but when Grace cleaned up, she was nothing short of stunning. But what really grabbed him, especially now, was the gleam in her eyes as she spoke about her work.
“My partners and I can use rebreathers.” The lack of bubbles and noise from a rebreather was exactly why Alec used one for long dives, but they were riskier than normal scuba equipment, so he didn’t operate one unless needed. “And I’ve been outside the cage before. How many times have you freedived with whites?”
Grace cleared her throat and licked her lips. “Including my famous photo? Once.”
Copyright © 2018 K. McCaffrey LLC
Purchase Links
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Amazon CA
Amazon AU
Amazon IN
iBooks
Nook
Kobo
Google Play
Print Coming Soon
Author Kristy McCaffrey
Kristy McCaffrey writes western historical and contemporary romances. She and her husband live in Arizona with their two dogs. Visit her online at kristymccaffrey.com.
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