Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 271

Jana Richards: My Favorite Secondary Characters in the Love at Solace Lake Series

I love secondary characters. They can provide comic relief or be the villain of the story. They are trusted friends, someone the main character can confide in and use as a sounding board. They can do or say outrageous things that the main characters may not be able to.

And they are necessary to the story. I believe secondary characters help give color and depth to a story. Just as in real life, our fictional main characters don’t want to live in the world alone. They too have family and friends they love and depend on.

I recently released my Love at Solace Lake series about three sisters who inherit their grandfather’s decaying fishing lodge in Minnesota. They work together to try to bring it back to life. There are several secondary characters in the three books; some appear in all three books and some in only one. Here are three of my favorite characters.

Abby Hanson first appears in LIES AND SOLACE, book 1 of the series. She’s also an important character in book 2 (SECRETS AND SOLACE) and book 3 (TRUTH AND SOLACE). Abby was best friends with the Lindquist sisters’ deceased mother, and she’s always been someone the sisters have trusted and confided in. But Abby has secrets. She knows things, things she’s kept from Harper, Scarlet and Maggie. When she finally divulges her secrets, she’ll shake their world.

The kitchen was sunny and warm, though not terribly big. While Abby put the kettle on to boil, Harper took off her jacket and hung it over the back of her chair.

“What made you and Reese decide to come back to Minnewasta?”

Abby placed a couple of teabags into a pot. “It was time to come home. This is where we belong.”

Harper blinked at her enigmatic answer. What did ‘it was time’ mean? Time for what?

Tessa Hainstock also appears in all three books, but we learn a lot about her and her relationship with her father in book 2, SECRETS AND SOLACE. Tessa is the five-year-old daughter of Cameron Hainstock, the hero of book 2. Tessa is sunny and bright, and Cameron would do anything for her. Through her, we discover that tough-guy Cameron has a big, kind heart, even when some of the things he says might make us, and Scarlet, think otherwise. Tessa is also important in showing Scarlet that she really could love a child and be a mother, something she never thought possible.

He scooped Tessa into his arms and held her securely against his shoulder with one arm. She woke, her eyes at half-mast. “Love you, Daddy. To the moon and back.”

He kissed her forehead and repeated the mantra they used every night she spent with him. “To the moon and back, pumpkin.”

She went back to sleep, once more as limp as a ragdoll.

Phyllis Carlsson was a hoot to write. She appears only in book 3, TRUTH AND SOLACE, Maggie Lindquist and Luke Carlsson’s story. She’s Luke Carlsson’s grandmother and Abby Hanson’s mother. She can come out with funny, sometimes irreverent things that make Luke want to laugh. Or cry. Phyllis has been Luke’s rock since childhood and she continues to support him through the difficult times he’s facing now. But Phyllis is no pushover; if she thinks Luke needs to do better, you can believe she’ll let him know.

“Your mother says you haven’t been to see her in a couple of days.”

The wrench slipped and clanked against the copper pipe. Luke had no answer for her. The truth was he’d been hiding, either at the lodge or with chores at his grandmother’s house. He couldn’t make himself go to her.

“I know it hurts. I know you feel powerless because I feel that way myself. And I’m angry, angrier than I’ve ever been in my life. I’m so angry that Abby is leaving me that I want to spit. I want to hit someone. I want to break something. It’s not supposed to be this way.”

Luke’s heart thumped painfully in his chest. He didn’t want to hear about his grandmother’s pain. His own grief tore at him like a wild animal, consuming him piece by piece. He couldn’t deal with her grief as well. He fitted the wrench carefully on the pipe once more.

“But you know what, Luke? Every day I put on my big girl panties, and I suck it up to walk the two blocks to my daughter’s house. I help her wash her hair or take a bath, and I make tea and chat. Whatever she needs. But I always make sure I share a laugh with her. Because right now, it’s not about me and my suffering. It’s about Abby.”

Secondary characters are a necessary part of romance fiction. They add color and life, provide reality checks for the main characters, and offer a shoulder to lean on. And they are definitely fun to write. Who are some of your favorite secondary characters from favorite books and movies?

Love at Solace Lake Series

Love is worth the risk…

When their grandfather dies, the Lindquist sisters, Harper, Scarlet and Maggie, inherit the northern Minnesota fishing lodge that had been in their family for three generations. The inheritance is bittersweet. They were raised at the lodge by their grandparents. The natural beauty of the place hasn’t changed, but the building itself is crumbling and desperately in need of repair. The lodge also reminds them of what they lost.

Twenty-two years previously, their parents died there in what was ruled a murder/suicide.

As the sisters struggle to breathe new life into the failing lodge, old fears and questions rise to the surface even as new love presents itself. Why did their father murder their mother? What truths did their grandparents keep from them? The sisters must fight to keep the wounds of the past from putting their futures, and their fledgling relationships, in jeopardy.

Book 1 – Lies and Solace

Buy Links:

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079TDDSY4

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B079TDDSY4

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B079TDDSY4

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B079TDDSY4

She can’t live with one more lie. He can’t tell the truth.

Harper Lindquist is convinced she’s found the answer to her financial prayers. Unless she pours cash into crumbling Solace Lake Lodge, she’ll lose her family’s legacy. Her would-be savior arrives in the middle of a Minnesota blizzard and she’s determined to prove to her reluctant, and trapped, financier the lodge is a sound investment. But Harper isn’t completely honest with him. And she has no idea the lake is hiding secrets of its own.

Ethan James is a liar, but his money is very real. He isn’t convinced a broken-down inn is a smart investment opportunity. But the more he understands Harper’s dreams and desires, the more he wants to be the man to make them come true. The trauma in both their pasts means neither can fully trust the other. They must find the courage to love, to trust, and to accept, or yesterday’s sorrows will keep them apart.

Excerpt, Lies and Solace:

As she stared into his dark eyes she realized how much she trusted him, and relied on him. That was something rare for her. The only people she trusted as much were her sisters.

I’m in love with him.

The thought blasted through her brain with the force of a tsunami. The tension of the last few weeks, the insecurity, the mistrust, the fear, slipped easily from her shoulders. For the first time, her mind was clear. She was in love with Ethan and she didn’t want to wait anymore. She wanted him. She wanted him to be her first, her last.

Finding courage she didn’t know she possessed, Harper slid off the stool and walked around the island. She plucked the wine glass from his hand and set it on the counter, then placed his hand on her breast. “Make love with me, Ethan.”

A fire lit in his eyes, telling her he wanted her, too. But there was a question there, a hesitation. “Are you sure?”

She’d never been more sure of anything in her life. “Yes.”

“Harper—”

“Shhh. Let’s not talk anymore.” She placed one finger over his lips, then stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

Ethan’s reaction was lightning swift. He wrapped his arms around her and brought her close, his mouth descending on hers in a wild, warm kiss. Their tongues tangled, slid over each other. She’d missed his touch, his taste. She moaned, and in the sound she heard thirty-two years of longing.

For this. For him.

Book 2 – Secrets and Solace

Buy Links:

US: http://www.amzn.com/B079WGSNWD

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B079WGSNWD

CA: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B079WGSNWD

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B079WGSNWD

No matter how deeply buried, secrets rise to the surface.

Scarlet Lindquist has agreed to help her sisters rebuild the dilapidated fishing lodge in Minnesota they inherited from their grandparents. Although the lengthy restoration is bringing the three sisters closer together, Scarlet’s support is temporary. Her leave of absence from her job in Chicago is temporary and she has no intention of staying at Solace Lake Lodge, where the lake holds dark secrets. When frightening childhood memories resurface, they are tempered by her fascination with an irritating contractor. If only she could trust her feelings for him. If only he could trust her.

Cameron Hainstock meets Scarlet at his brother’s wedding to her sister and their attraction is instantaneous. But Cam avoids the beautiful marketing executive. All his efforts are aimed at battling for custody of his only child. When the unimaginable happens and Cam faces the biggest challenge of his life, he’s reluctant to accept help to halt his downward spiral. Can they learn to trust each other and fight for a future together or will they go their separate ways?

Excerpt, Secrets and Solace:

The shock on Scarlet’s face, the disbelief and grief, made him wish he’d kept his mouth shut. The last thing he wanted was to inflict her with the same hell he was going through. He turned away from her, pushing her hand from his arm. “Go home, Scarlet.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” She grabbed his arm again, preventing him from picking up the axe, the tool he’d used to keep himself from reaching for a bottle. “I won’t leave you alone.”

Ignoring the sweat and dirt, she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tightly, resting her head against his chest. His body stirred to life at her touch, disgusting him. His world was crumbling around him and all he could think was that he wanted to bury himself inside her until she screamed his name.

“Go,” he said roughly. If she was smart, she’d run away and never look back. He was a bad-tempered, recovering alcoholic with nothing to offer her. He wasn’t worth the risk.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes clear and steady. “No. I won’t leave you.”

He pushed her up against the wall of the workshop, not sure if he was trying scare her away or make her stay. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She shook her head. “You won’t.”

Cam closed his eyes and groaned. He wrapped his arms around her in a vice-like grip, unable to resist her any longer.

God, he needed her.

He lowered his head and kissed her. There was no subtlety in the kiss, no gentleness or finesse. Only passion and raw need. But she stayed with him, returning his passion, giving solace. He greedily lapped it up, taking everything she had to give.

But he wanted, needed more. He lifted her and she wrapped her long, slender legs around his waist. He buried his face against her soft, sweet-smelling neck, inhaling her clean, floral scent. At the same time, he snaked his hand up her thigh and began to pull down her panties.

“Tell me to stop,” he rasped. “Tell me now while I still can.”

Book 3 – Truth and Solace

Buy Links:

US: http://www.amzn.com/B079WFZXV2

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B079WFZXV2

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B079WFZXV2

Au: http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B079WFZXV2

The truth could destroy them. Or set them free.

Maggie Lindquist left Solace Lake determined never to return. Circumstances have pulled her back and she’s helping to restore her family’s dilapidated fishing lodge. When she agreed to the plan she didn’t expect to have to work side by side with the man who abandoned her ten years earlier. She didn’t expect to like him, or want him ever again. But can she trust him as she once did?

Luke Carlsson rushes home to tend to his ailing mother. Her lengthy illness means he needs to stay, at least temporarily. And to stay, he needs to work. Solace Lake Lodge offers him a job and an opportunity to work with the woman he’s never stopped loving. But the restoration is unleashing secrets hidden for decades and no one is left unscathed. Especially not Maggie and Luke, whose love needs to be resilient enough to forgive, and strong enough to build a future together.

Excerpt, Truth and Solace:

“Luke?” Maggie’s voice was husky with sleep.

“It’s all right, baby. Go back to sleep.”

The sheets rustled and the bedside lamp snapped on, creating a small pool of light that illuminated her tense face. “You’re leaving?”

He heard the disappointment in her voice, saw it in her dark eyes, even in the dim light.

“If I don’t leave now, my grandmother will know I’ve been with you all night. Harper and Ethan will see my truck here in the morning, and they’ll know we slept together.”

“Harper and Ethan are staying in Minneapolis tonight, but even if they were home, it wouldn’t matter. I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks, not even my family. We’re grownups now. We don’t have to sneak around to be together like we did when we were kids.” She lowered her gaze, her hands clutching the sheet to her breasts. “Unless you don’t want anyone to know. Unless you’d rather not be here.”

“Maggie—”

“It’s okay, really.” She looked away and shrugged a small shoulder. “It’s no big deal.”

He couldn’t leave her like this. He sat on the bed beside her and stroked her hair. “It’s a big deal to me. There’s nothing I want more than to stay, but it wouldn’t be fair to you.”

Her eyes flashed in disbelief. “Wouldn’t be fair to me? What are you talking about?”

“In a few weeks, after my mother is…gone, I’ll go back to my job in California. And you’ll be here.”

“And never the twain shall meet?”

“It’s not what I want, but it’s reality.”

“What about what I want, right here, right now? Maybe we don’t have forever. Nobody does. If I’ve learned anything from your mother’s illness, it’s that we can’t take anything for granted. We can’t let uncertainty and fear stop us. If we only have a short time together, so be it. At least, we’ll have had that time. I won’t regret it.”

She was amazing. She was still the strong, forthright, vibrant girl he’d fallen in love with that summer.

And he had loved her. Deeply. They’d been far too young to sustain a lasting relationship. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t loved her.

I still love her. I never stopped.

The sudden insight rocked him.

About Jana Richards

When Jana Richards read her first romance novel, she immediately knew two things: she had to commit the stories running through her head to paper, and they had to end with a happily ever after. She also knew she’d found what she was meant to do. Since then she’s never met a romance genre she didn’t like. She writes contemporary romance, romantic suspense, and historical romance set in World War Two, in lengths ranging from short story to full length novel. Just for fun, she throws in generous helpings of humor, and the occasional dash of the paranormal. Her paranormal romantic suspense “Seeing Things” was a 2008 EPPIE finalist. In 2015 “Always a Bridesmaid” was nominated for a Rone Award in the Steamy Contemporary category, and though it didn’t make the finals, it was an honor to be nominated. “Always a Bridesmaid” did, however, receive Best Opening Hook from Trans Canada Writers in their Maple Leaf Awards.

In her life away from writing, Jana is an accountant/admin assistant, a mother to two grown daughters, and a wife to her husband Warren. She enjoys golf, yoga, movies, concerts, travel and reading, not necessarily in that order. She and her husband live in Winnipeg, Canada with an elderly Pug/Terrier cross named Lou. She loves to hear from readers and can be reached through her website at www.janarichards.com

Social Media Links:

Website: http://www.janarichards.com

Blog: http://janarichards.blogspot.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/JanaRichardsAuthor

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/JanaRichards_

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/janarichards

Amazon UK Author Page: http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B002DEVWWG

Newsletter Signup: http://janarichards.com/contact.html#newsletter

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2892274Jana_Richards

Google+ Profile: https://plus.google.com/100820406211390323245

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jana-richards

Royal Mania

I’m a wee bit embarrassed to admit, because I’m not a silly-frilly girl, but I’m gaga over the upcoming royal nuptials.

I’ve always thought Harry was cute and funny, and I remember that sad little boy who followed his mama’s coffin down the streets. I want him happy.

Then there’s Megan… She’s American and so poised and friendly—and can I say that I’m beyond thrilled she’s biracial? It says so much about Harry that he’s going for her, against all tradition. I can’t help but hope they are fabulous together as a couple.

So, my dd has been very patient with me as I wiggle and squirm all the way to next Saturday when the big event happens. In fact, she’s throwing a “high tea” party—with “tea and crumpets” and pink kiddy tiaras for the whole family—starting at 5:00 in the morning, because we’ll all be up and planted in front of the TV to watch the spectacle!

How about you? Are you excited? Are you planning to watch? Are you crazy like us and throwing a party? What element are you most excited to see? The kiss? THE DRESS? Their happy faces?

Elf Ahearn: A Rogue in Sheep’s Clothing

In a recent issue of Romance Writers Report, there appeared an article about authors with attention deficit disorder. A primary requirement for many of these unfortunate souls is absolute silence before they can jot down a word. This revelation has led me to believe I’ve got a burning case of ADD.

When I’m not being distracted from writing by pine cones falling, trucks passing, or the thump of my cat as she dismounts from her favorite chair, I tutor. One student meets me at a small library in New York State, which is run by the world’s loudest librarians. These ladies treat the place like it’s their private social club; they talk at full volume, shout across the room, and chatter like parakeets behind the checkout desk. The ringleader is a tall, thin thing with half orange, half white hair, which she parts so not a single orange strand mingles with a single white strand. Plus, she wears horn-rimmed glasses and is nasty.

One time, my student and I arrived to find her and another librarian gossiping in the study room we’d grown accustomed to using. Very politely, I asked if they’d be in there much longer. “What are you, a tutor?” she asked, emphasizing “tutor” as if it were slang for poop. “Tutors aren’t allowed in here. You can use one of those tables.” She waved at a few knee-high structures in the Children’s Section.

We slunk into the tiny chairs and tried to get through the lesson. As she and her compatriots bellowed above our heads, I thanked fate for not making me a citizen of this besieged township. Libraries, after all, are typically a refuge for those of us with an anchovy’s attention span.

A Rogue in Sheep’s Clothing

In Lord Hugh Davenport’s opinion, women of the tonperpetually hide behind a mask of deception. That’s hard for Ellie Albright, the daughter of an earl, to swallow—especially since she’s disguised herself as a stable hand to get back the prized stallion her father sold to Hugh to pay a debt. If Hugh learns her true identity she’ll lose the horse and her family will go bankrupt. Somehow, though, losing Hugh’s affection is beginning to seem even worse…

Already only a step away from being snagged in her own web of lies, Ellie’s deceit threatens to spin out of control when Hugh’s mother invites Ellie and her sisters to a house party. Now Ellie has to scramble to keep Hugh from knowing she’s the stable girl he wants to marry, while simultaneously trying to win his trust as herself. Can she keep her costumes straight long enough to save her family? And even if she does, will it be worth losing his love?

Get your copy here!

EXCERPT from A Rogue in Sheep’s Clothing

Ellie took a few limping steps after him. “I’ll need your assistance.” He came back and eyed her suspiciously. “Your arm, in fact,” she told him.

His lips hardened, but he looped her arm through his. As they passed a row of seated grande dams, every eye watched with envy.

At an alcove, Hugh stopped to let her pass. “In here,” he said.

“I can’t go in there alone with you.”

“Did you see a free chair on the floor?” he said. “Because what I saw was a row of plump sugar plums, and none of them likely to abandon her seat.”

“People will say I’ve been compromised.”

“Nonsense. I couldn’t possibly compromise anyone in an alcove shielded by a simple palm tree. A young lady compromised in such a manner either wants to be or wants to pretend she was. Which one are you?”

“Neither,” snapped Ellie.

“Then sit.” He whacked back the palm revealing a gilded bench by the wall. “Besides,” he continued, following her into the alcove, “your reputation will swell in direct correlation to the amount of time spent in my company.”

As she sat, she rolled her eyes. “La, what an extraordinary view of oneself.”

BUY LINKS for A Rogue in Sheep’s Clothing and The Secret Life of Lords

Amazon.com A Rogue in Sheep’s Clothing: Book 1 in the Albright Sisters series

Amazon.com The Secret Life of Lords: Book 2 in the Albright Sisters series

Elf Ahearn

“Regency romance with a Gothic twist.”

The Albright Sisters Series: A Rogue in Sheep’s Clothing, The Secret Life of Lords

www.Elfahearn.com

https://www.facebook.com/elf.ahearn

Diana Cosby: Advantages of Selling Your Novel to A Publisher Later in your Career (Contest)

Diana Cosby ©2018

When I began writing, I remember sending out my first partial, smiling, telling everyone the manuscript’s title, and that my book was going to sell. Then how, months later, I received a rejection letter. I was devastated. How could a publisher not want the book of my heart? And the rejection letter, Dear Author . . ., it could have been written to anyone!

Over the years I discovered that I had a deft skill for acquiring rejections. I remember one day my oldest son, who has now served a tour in the Marine Corps, carrying in a manila envelope saying, “Hey, Mom, you received another rejection.”

Happy Mother’s Day!

So, my dd is my shopper. What I don’t buy online, I send her to purchase. Well, last-minute-Nelly here needed flowers and a card for my mom for mother’s day. I sent her to the store.

The garden goose is what she bought for my mom. Love it! Perfect! And she returned with my flowers and card…and a story…

Well, she said it was hilarious trying to muscle her way into the card aisle. Every husband in town was doing his shopping at O-dark-thirty. And a big red-headed guy seemed to be following her around from aisle to aisle. When she stared at him, he said he wasn’t following, but he was stuck for what to buy. In the clearance aisle, he glanced at mini-trampoline.

My daughter shook her head. “No. Just no.”

He said, “But she could use it.”

She said, giving him the “uh-huh” head-shake, “You’re telling her she’s fat.”

His eyes got really big, and he headed back over to the flowers.

Hope you didn’t get a mini-trampoline.

True Heart is out!

I have a two-fer series, which includes True Heart and Lone Heart, that follows the Wyatt men who own a ranch in Colorado. True is the straight-arrow brother, who bends his own rules when he meets the woman he falls for like a ton of bricks. Lone, who’s a footloose rodeo cowboy, finds a reason to stick around when he meets his true love.

True Heart is out now! Lone Heart is following very, very soon. So, buckle up! You know it’s going to be a hot and fierce ride.

True Heart

Two men plus one woman equals three bodies on fire…

True Wyatt’s hands are going to be full enough keeping the herd alive through the dead of winter. The last thing he needs to hear is that his brother Lonny rented out their isolated hunting cabin to a reclusive writer—especially a sassy, disaster-prone brunette. Who has the time to babysit a city girl until Spring?

With a deadline looming, erotica writer Honey Cahill is looking forward to six distraction-free weeks to finish her next book. However, between Lonny’s flirty sensuality and True’s hard-edged intensity, the Wyatt brothers set the stage of her imagination for a winter of wicked delights.

However, the fire that destroys the cabin is as real as it gets. Forced to shelter under True and Lonny’s roof, the temptation to experiment—all in the name of research, of course—is overpowering.

Get your copy now!

 

Stephanie Queen: Derby de Mayo

Cinqo de Mayo has always sounded like such a fun holiday, a celebration of spring and flowers and margaritas. (I especially love margaritas, yes more than I love flowers and spring weather.) (Myren, my chauffeur is tsk-tsking me right now as if I’m a teenager expressing forbidden desires. I wish.)

Anyway, this year the celebration was extra special because May 5thhappened to also be the same day as the running of the Kentucky Derby. (Forget the mint juleps. Picture ladies in big hats—maybe a few sombreros—sipping big fat icy margaritas with salted rims.) I digress.

It’s not that I go wild every year on May 5th. It isn’t always on a Saturday and sometimes I don’t look up from my computer long enough between May 4thand 6thto notice that Cinqo de Mayo just happened. (Myren, my chauffeur is laughing at me now and I’m not really sure why… so I slap his arm and stare him down until he stops. Politely.)

But this year, this was the year the Derby ran away with the Cinqo and I went to a Derby de Mayo party thrown by an old college friend and had a ball with a dozen or so ex-UConn huskies. I’ve included pictures as proof. We wore hats and bet on the race and there was a prize for the best hat—pictured here. Not a UConn alum, but I feel obliged to illustrate how far some people will go to win a prize. She deserve it.

For me and my friends, the fun had little to do with the derby or the cinqo and everything to do with old friendships still alive and well (Myren pointed out that we ought to be happy that us old people were alive and well never mind the friendships. I slapped his arm again and threatened a punch in the nose. Politely. He offered a smug look in return. Darn chauffeur.)

We became friends forty years ago and have managed to get through the grind of life in the intervening years without losing our zest, or sense of humor and fun and sense of what’s most important. Our people.

Also, we drank lots of beer and sangria and margaritas, not unlike we did forty years ago, and celebrated our friendship and raised a glass to Derby de Mayo for giving us the perfect excuse.

As an author, no celebration would be complete without a new release. Beachcomber Danger is just out and the 8thinstallment in the Beachcomber Investigations romantic detective series is the best yet. (Myren finally shakes his head in agreement, but not because he’s taking my word for it, only because he read it in a review.)

Beachcomber Danger is $.99 for a limited time or free on Kindle Unlimited.

Beachcomber Danger

Amazon

StephanieQueen.com

A puzzling reminder…

Cheesy subject line, I know. I had a guest scheduled today but sent my reminder too late. Therefore, I have an open date and no blog prepared.

So, please play. Once you see the final picture, maybe you’ll be reminded of what’s coming Friday…

Pele’s curse? Or is it me…?

Okay, this is going to sound like a big line of crap. However, in my family, it’s been a long-standing joke that wherever I go, disaster follows. I went on a cruise that included a stop in Haiti—that big earthquake followed very shortly after. I went to New Orleans, a big tropical storm brought floods. I went to Florida, a hurricane followed.

So, when I told the family I was going to Hawaii…

Here’s a picture of a snippet of a conversation I had with my cousin, writer Brent Archer, back in February. He was trying to convince me to come to a conference in Seattle, but I told him I was done with travel after Hawaii…

Well, after more than 500 earthquakes and multiple eruptions, I’m thinking I really should stick to home…

Is it coincidence or the “Curse of Delilah”? What do you think?

Read Chapter One of True Heart!

I moved up the release date for True Heart! It comes out this Friday, so I thought I’d tempt you with a peek inside the story. Read the first chapter and meet True and Lonny Wyatt—your next book boyfriends! Did I mention there’s a sexy threesome, too? Enjoy!

True Heart

Coming May 11th!

Two men plus one woman equals three bodies on fire…

True Wyatt’s hands are going to be full enough keeping the herd alive through the dead of winter. The last thing he needs to hear is that his brother Lonny rented out their isolated hunting cabin to a reclusive writer—especially a sassy, disaster-prone brunette. Who has the time to babysit a city girl until Spring?

With a deadline looming, erotica writer Honey Cahill is looking forward to six distraction-free weeks to finish her next book. However, between Lonny’s flirty sensuality and True’s hard-edged intensity, the Wyatt brothers set the stage of her imagination for a winter of wicked delights.

However, the fire that destroys the cabin is as real as it gets. Forced to shelter under True and Lonny’s roof, the temptation to experiment–all in the name of research, of course—is overpowering.

Pre-order your copy here!

Chapter One

True Wyatt prided himself on control—control over the multitude of responsibilities that came with riding herd over a successful ranch; control over his brother, who thought life should be enjoyed rather than conquered; and control over the desires he’d kept in rein since the demise of his marriage. And yet, the sight that greeted him this cold winter day told him he’d only been fooling himself.

From his perch high atop the ridge overlooking the lonely cabin, True Wyatt watched the shapely brunette as she made another trip to her car to pull boxes and suitcases from her backseat, one after the other. Grumpily, he wondered how she’d managed to stuff so much inside a Corolla. The trunk had held a similar assortment of printer-paper-sized boxes, which she’d manhandled into the house, her face growing rosy with exertion.

Despite the biting wind, she’d dispensed with her down coat and wore only a sweater with a crew neck, the sleeves pushed off her wrists. The dark blue knit hugged her upper torso, defining a lovely bosom and narrow waist. Every time she bent to pull out another box her designer jeans hugged her small rounded bottom, and his loins tightened.

Which annoyed the hell out of him. Fact was, he wished he could turn his horse away and pretend he hadn’t noticed trouble had arrived on his mountain—and he knew exactly who to blame. His anger smoldered like hot coals ready to erupt into a full blaze. The clop of hooves approaching behind him carried just the fuel to add to the fire.

“Did you know?” True barked without glancing back.

“Know what?” his brother asked, humor underlying his slow drawl as he pulled up alongside him.

“That our tenant is a woman.”

“Sure did. I’m surprised that you’re surprised since I gave you a copy of her latest book. Picture’s right there on the back cover.”

The book in question sat on the credenza in True’s office. Exactly where his brother had left it two days ago. The fact he hadn’t bothered turning it over made True’s cheeks heat. Dammit.

Lonny had asked him just last night if he’d read the story. The wicked gleam in his eyes when he’d said it should have clued True in that his little brother was enjoying a joke at his expense.

Tightening his hands on the reins, he bit out, “You do know this is gonna complicate things. If we weren’t busy enough after letting go of the seasonal hands, now we have to babysit—”

“She’s not looking for anyone to babysit her, True. She said she wants privacy to finish up a book.”

True speared him with a glare. “We can’t leave her alone. What the hell does she know about surviving a winter in high country?”

Lonny arched an eyebrow. “Probably not any more than the male author you thought you were gettin’.”

True gritted his teeth as Lonny’s mouth stretched into a gleeful smile.

“Tell the truth. No matter what you say, you planned on having to check up on Mr. H.A. Cahill. You don’t trust tenderfoots.”

“But I wouldn’t be as worried. If a man’s stupid enough to get himself into trouble out here, it’s a damn shame, but not something I’d lose sleep over. But she’s…” He waved his hand toward the woman hopping down the steps for another load.

Her breasts bounced enticingly, distracting him from what had to be said. At Lonny’s chuckle, True swung back with a narrowed gaze. “It’s not safe. Does she know she could be shut in for a month? That bears and wolves pretty much think a cabin is a drive-through?”

Lonny grunted. “The bears are hibernating. She’ll be gone before they stir. And you know wolves are shy of humans.”

“Does she know how to shoot a gun? Dammit, does she even own one?”

Lonny shrugged. “I asked if she needed me to leave one. She gave me a funny look.”

True cursed. “You show her how to light that cantankerous stove?”

“Showed her twice.”

The woman bent, reaching deep to the back floorboard of her car. Her sweater rode up, exposing a set of deep dimples right above her sweetly curved ass.

“Electricity’s bound to go out,” True muttered.

“There’s plenty of gas in the shed for the generator. ’Sides, she said candlelight gets her in the mood.”

True’s gaze swiveled back.

Lonny raised the hand not holding his reins. “For writing her stories. Although gotta wonder myself if she wasn’t talking about more. Her book was damn hot.”

“You thinking to give her inspiration?” True growled, his voice rising.

“Well, she did invite me down for a meal…” At True’s deepening scowl, his brother flashed a grin. “Out of gratitude. Said when Leroy’s hunting cabin went up in that brushfire her plans for a retreat were all shot to hell. She’s forever in my debt.” He waggled his eyebrows at the last statement.

True looked away, hoping to keep from saying something really nasty, because for whatever reason, the thought of his brother with the curvy woman below made him feel even meaner.

When he glanced back down the hill, his gut clenched. H.A. Cahill had stacked two boxes and was walking slowly toward the porch. The height of her burden was taller than the top of her head.

“Dammit,” he cussed and nudged his horse forward. She was gonna break her neck—and on his property. Sooner he helped her get inside, the sooner he could move on to more important things, like moving the last of the cattle to the box canyon where they’d stay to weather the worst of the winter.

As his horse picked its way down the slope, he kept sending darting glares her way, willing her silently to stay put. The brief thaw they’d experienced the past week had ended. Snow clung to patches of shaded earth but had melted away everywhere else, leaving mud and slicks of slush. However, today’s cold snap was re-freezing the ground, the roads—the damn steps.

She slowed as she approached the steps, kicking out one booted toe to find them. Then tentatively, she stepped up. His worst fear was realized when she took another step and her foot slid out from under her. She toppled backward to the ground, giving a startled yelp as her boxes opened and the wind carried away pages of paper.

He kicked his horse’s sides, hurrying him down, ignoring the pounding of his brother’s horse behind him.

Before his own palomino came to a full halt beside the woman struggling to sit, he was out of his saddle and glaring downward.

Ready to tear into her for her carelessness, he opened his mouth—but a strange thing happened. One look into her cornflower blue eyes, and his breath hitched. The caustic complaint he was about to voice stuck in his throat.

“You must be the brother,” she said breathlessly, her voice impossibly chipper for a woman who looked as though she’d gotten the wind knocked right out of her. “True, right? Your parents…got really creative with…your names,” she gasped. “I like that. Don’t be surprised…if they turn up in a book somewhere.” And then she grinned.

True’s dick hardened in one blazing instant, and he knew with a fatalistic certainty just what kind of books she wrote.

 

Honey had never seen a man look so angry and flummoxed at the same time. And that shouldn’t have been the case since she managed to ruffle men’s feathers faster than a hurricane. It was a talent.

She came up on her elbows in the mud and glanced at the papers cartwheeling across the yard. If you could call it a yard. The space around the cabin was more of a rough-cut clearing.

Nothing fancy, Lonny had warned her. He hadn’t over-represented the small two-room cabin with an efficiency kitchen and tiny bathroom.

And yet the rugged utility of the place appealed. The cabin smelled of pine sap and wood smoke, and when she’d stood on the porch, the view of the mountains around her took her breath away.

Right this second, the view from the ground wasn’t that bad either.

“I’ll get those,” Lone Wyatt said. He gave her a quick glance, raised an eyebrow at his brother, then dismounted in a fluid, graceful move that had her envious of every flex of muscle that delivered him to the ground. Could any two brothers be more alike, and conversely, so different at the same time?

True Wyatt moved with rugged force. She couldn’t help wondering how that economy of motion and deliberation translated to how he moved in a bed. True wore “Cowboy” like some men wore Armani.

Her gaze crept upward from his scarred boots, past legs encased in sturdy, mud-stained denim, to a dark, dirt-streaked coat that fell to his knees. He looked like he’d stepped out of an old western movie. Even the cowboy hat, broad-rimmed and shadowing his deep-set eyes, emphasized his individualistic, rugged appeal.

Her glance flew back to Lonny, who chased the newspaper clippings and her own dog-eared notes across the clearing.

Lonny was a sweetheart. A flirty man with wicked intentions written in his dark green eyes. She’d already decided she wouldn’t turn down an invitation to go to bed with the man. But that was before she’d clapped eyes on the brother…

She came back to True to find his gaze narrowed on her face. All brooding darkness and hard-edged features. Same dark green eyes, weathered skin, and dark brown hair as the brother, but his expression set him apart. Made him seem even older than the thirty-six years Lonny had volunteered.

Lonny was in his late twenties, still footloose and straining against obligation. Facts she’d gleaned easily the first time they’d met. After all, she was a writer and a master at pulling information from a person without him realizing just how she did it.

Something told her big brother wouldn’t be nearly as easy to pump for information. “Pump” stuck in her mind, and her brain again leapt to sexier pursuits.

She’d gathered a lot of information during her brief encounter with little brother at the diner in town. She’d arranged to meet her original landlord to pick up the keys to the hunting cabin she’d rented for a writing retreat. Lonny had been hovering over the counter, sweet-talking a waitress, when he’d overheard her dilemma. After accepting his invitation to coffee, where she’d winnowed out his life story, she’d also managed to acquire an invitation to stay in the Wyatts’ hunting cabin, situated in a “lonesome high meadow”. She’d smiled at his attempt at waxing poetic, amused that he was trying to impress her after hearing she was an author.

Likely, he’d hoped that she’d use some of her pain-staking research into human sexuality and desire to show him how truly grateful she was for his last-minute save. Not that she felt under pressure to provide a little sexy quid pro quo.

Lonny was easy on the eyes and built like a brick house. Very like his brother in that respect. Although she was pretty sure by the way his gaze burned over her that True didn’t need the benefit of her expertise.

Pulled between two forces of nature, her attention was drawn once again to the tall brooding man who stood over her, his thickly muscled legs braced apart, the impressive bulge at the apex holding her attention longer than was polite.

Since he hadn’t offered to help her up, she cleared her throat, pushed a half-filled box off her lap, and struggled to sit.

A hand dangled in front of her face. A large hand with thick, callused fingers.

Her heart hit a speed bump before hammering faster inside her chest. She accepted his firm grip and came up more quickly than she’d expected. She swayed against his chest before she got her feet underneath her. Then she had the whimsical thought that if he leaned forward just an inch, her mouth would graze the canvas material of his duster coat just over his heart. True was a big man.

“Thanks,” she said breathlessly.

Slowly, he eased his hand from hers then took a step back, his glance going back to her car. “We’ll finish the unpacking. Those boots of yours aren’t made for walkin’.”

“Really?” she said, glancing down at the pretty cowboy boots she’d bought for her retreat that now had a thick layer of mud crusted around the bottom.

“Why do you think you fell on your ass?” He cleared his throat then stomped away.

Honey didn’t know whether to take his comment as an insult or not, but she liked the sound of his deep growl. It rasped along her nerves, stirring long-dormant desires she’d sublimated in order to write the kind of surly, dominant men her readers seemed to love. Fictional men were easier to say goodbye to.

She stepped forward to help him, unwilling to just stand by and watch him do her work. However, a twinge of pain pulled across the muscles of her lower back, and she grimaced, reaching back to rub the spot only to discover her backside was covered in mud. Her grimace deepened.

“Did you hurt yourself?” Lonny asked, striding toward her with his hands clutching her papers. His gaze trailed down her body to where her hand rubbed.

“Just a twinge,” she said. “What with the heavy lifting—”

True snorted and stepped past her, his arms filled with three boxes stacked high.

Her gaze followed him, wondering whether she should call him on his rudeness or let it pass. Something made her want to challenge him.

“He’s always like that,” Lonny said, smiling. “Don’t take any offense.”

“I didn’t. Much,” she murmured. She aimed a tight smile his way. “Would you two care for a hot cup of coffee when you’re through?”

“We don’t have time to chit-chat,” True said, stomping right back out the door and down the steps.

She stepped into his path, forcing him to halt or slam right into her. “Did I say something that offended you?”

True’s hands came up, gripped her waist and picked her up to set her to the side.

Her jaw dropped. Heat filled her cheeks. When he walked away, she glared at Lonny. “He always does that, too?”

Lonny’s eyebrows were high, a little smile curving one corner of his mouth. “That’s not something I’ve ever seen him do. Whatever you said to him—”

“I didn’t say a thing.”

He shook his head. “Something sure as hell set him off. I better go give him a hand before he tries to walk right through me without the courtesy of moving me first.” He handed her the papers he’d rescued and followed his brother to her car.

Feeling off-balance because she didn’t understand what had angered the gruff cowboy, or whether he’d simply taken an instant dislike, she wandered up the steps and into the cabin, scuffing off the mud on the doormat before striding inside. The boxes were stacked near the kitchen table where she’d decided to set up her office. The rectangular surface already held her laptop and portable printer.

She wondered what they thought of her array of boxes. There were reams of paper, a couple filled with research, but she’d shoved clothes and camera equipment into the rest because she’d been in a hurry to escape the telephone when she’d left her snowbird house on South Padre Island.

True stomped in again and set three more boxes beside her. “These are the last and kinda light,” he muttered.

Probably held her underwear. The thought tugged a grin from her mouth.

His gaze dropped to her lips for just a second, and then it swept her body—so quickly she might have mistaken the once-over for a blink. When he’d finished, he tipped his hat and stomped out of the house.

Maybe he always stomped. Might not have a thing to do with her.

Lonny hovered in the doorway. “If you don’t mind, I’ll come by later to check in and see if you need anything.”

Did she need anything? A hug? A smile to assure her she hadn’t grown a second head or a wart on her nose. “I’d like that.”

Lonny flashed a grin then hurried down the steps. Big brother was already riding back up the ridge, his broad shoulders stiff.

Still, the sight of him, his sturdy body outlined in the snowfall that had begun sometime in the last few minutes, made her chest hurt. He wore loneliness like he did his long, dark duster.

She closed the door, shutting out the cold and the view. A shiver reminded her she’d better check the wood-burning furnace again. It was time to get to work anyway.

She hadn’t come all the way to the Colorado mountains in the middle of winter to pine over a man she didn’t even know and probably wouldn’t like if she did.

Honey bent and tugged off box tops until she found the ones holding her favorite knit scarf, another pair of clean jeans and a gray sweater. She shucked off her boots and muddied clothes, dressed in the clean ones, and wound the sky-blue angora around her neck. Then she hunted for the bottle of scotch she’d packed, knowing she’d need it to get to sleep as the anniversary approached.

She poured herself a finger of amber anesthesia into a coffee cup she found in the small cupboard over the sink and settled down in front of her computer.

Her glance strayed one last time out the window beside the door. Snow had begun to fall steadily in fat flakes. Not that she minded. She’d wanted solitude.

Looked like she’d get it too—other than the occasional visit from one sexy young cowboy.