Karen Docter's Blog, page 187

Karen’s Killer Book Bench: The Inheritance (Black Hills Legacy) by Debra Salonen

 KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!

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THE INHERITANCE

Black Hills Legacy

BY DEBRA SALONEN

Blurb

“Nothing like an unconscious doppelgänger to ruin a perfectly good day at the Mystery Spot.”

Robyn Craine has two loves: her Harley and the Mystery Spot, the Black Hills tourist attraction she bought with funds from her late mother’s estate, an inheritance that included a generous gift from billionaire Harold Hopewell. With a chance-of-a-lifetime expansion in the works, Robyn doesn’t have time to babysit the handsome Sentinel Passtime actor who shows up to do “research”–especially when she figures out his connection to the wealthy businessman/ politician trying to sabotage her new project.

Liam Temple has no intention of falling for a Black Hills local. His agent has Liam’s breakout, big budget movie deal lined up. Even though Liam likes his current Sentinel Passtime gig, he promised his late sister he’d win a Golden Globe by thirty-five. The last thing he needs is the distraction of a feisty, Harley-riding tourist trap owner caught in Liam’s father’s crosshairs for buying a hunk of land Richard Marston thinks belongs to him. But when Robyn’s doppelgänger stunt double is attacked, Liam recognizes his father’s MO and makes keeping Robyn safe his first priority.

CHANGE IS GOOD…RIGHT?

BY DEBRA SALONEN

It is Spring Break where you live? In my part of California (near Yosemite National Park), life is very green at the moment—an ephemeral sweetness that pits my hubby against rapidly growing weeds and gophers ala Bill Murray in Caddyshack.

This spring, we added something new to the mix. After thirty years in the same house, we moved. Not far. Just next door actually, but in rural terms that means a smaller house on the adjoining five-acre parcel. A million or so trips back and forth. Change is healthy…but a lot of work.

My contractor husband actually built both homes. The one we’ve just moved into was built for my mother. She’d been a widow living in Las Vegas for two years when we purchased the land to build our “dream” home. Mom decided she wanted to live closer to family so she bought the parcel right next door to ours. “Grandma’s House” was a popular place for many years, until Mom decided she was done driving. Then, the isolation of the country became too much. She moved to an independent living center for seniors and her sweet little home was rented to younger family members. Change can be a beautiful thing…this is where my two elder granddaughters grew up.

But, when my son bought his first home in nearby Mariposa and my daughter with her three little girls needed to make a big change in her life…a very good thing!–I decided this was the right time to downsize. Lovely word, isn’t it? I totally embrace the concept…in theory.

Karen’s Killer Book Bench RELEASE BLAST: Walk of Shame (Love Unexpectedly #4) by Lauren Layne

 KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!

~~WALK OF SHAME

Love Unexpectedly #4

BY LAUREN LAYNE

Blurb

Sparks fly between a misunderstood New York socialite and a cynical divorce lawyer in this lively standalone rom-com from the USA Today bestselling author of Blurred Lines and Love Story.

Pampered heiress Georgianna Watkins has a party-girl image to maintain, but all the shopping and clubbing is starting to feel a little bit hollow—and a whole lot lonely. Though Georgie would never admit it, the highlights of her week are the mornings when she comes home at the same time as her uptight, workaholic neighbor is leaving to hit the gym and put in a long day at the office. Teasing him is the most fun Georgie’s had in years—and the fuel for all her naughtiest daydreams.

Celebrity divorce attorney Andrew Mulroney doesn’t have much time for women, especially spoiled tabloid princesses who spend more time on Page Six than at an actual job. Although Georgie’s drop-dead gorgeous, she’s also everything Andrew resents: the type of girl who inherited her penthouse instead of earning it. But after Andrew caps one of their predawn sparring sessions with a surprise kiss—a kiss that’s caught on camera—all of Manhattan is gossiping about whether they’re a real couple. And nobody’s more surprised than Andrew to find that the answer just might be yes.

WALK OF SHAME

Love Unexpectedly #4

BY LAUREN LAYNE

Excerpt

And who is he, you ask?

Andrew Mulroney, Esquire.

I know this because we moved into the building on the exact same day, and right before we got into a horrendous fight over whose movers should have access to the building loading dock first, he handed me his business card.

The thick white card stock declared that he had a fancy law degree to go along with the fancy suit he was wearing on a Saturday.

Andrew handed it over with such superiority, I actually wished for a half second that I had a business card of my own that would somehow be better than his. Like, lined with gold or something. No, platinum. With a diamond in the corner. It would be too heavy for him to hold, and he’d drop it, thus having to kneel at my feet to pick it up.

But then I realized it was just as well that I didn’t have a business card.

Because it would say . . . what? Georgie Watkins, professional party girl?

Anyway, I digress. Despite the high temps of that swampy July morning, the encounter had been the start of an epic cold war.

Me, the socialite in apartment 86A against the uptight esquire in apartment 79B.

I’m not entirely sure I’m winning the war, but I’ll never tell him that.

I let my gaze drift over Andrew, even though his appearance rarely holds any surprises. The man’s a lesson in sameness, like some sort of anal-retentive version of Groundhog Day.

There’s always the black mug with some healthy gunk inside held in his right hand, Tom Ford briefcase and Armani garment bag in his left, containing what I know to be a perfectly tailored three-piece suit.

Andrew’s coppery hair is perfectly styled, although I’d swear that there’s some natural curl in there threatening to disrupt his perfect order. I imagine that annoys him, so it therefore makes me happy.

Let’s see, what else about my nemesis?

He’s got a hard, unfriendly jawline that’s perfectly shaven.

Dark brown eyes, cold and flat. Black gym bag over one shoulder.

I suppose you could say he changes up his attire, because he does alternate between black and gray gym shirts. But considering that they seem to be the exact same fit, both colors molding perfectly to his impressively sculpted upper body, we’re not giving him any points for variety there.

Same goes for the lower half. The black shorts worn in summer have given way to sleek black sweatpants now that October’s upon us, but they’re both black and Nike, so we’ll give him no credit for changing it up there either.

The shoes, though . . .

I do a double take.

Well, well, well . . .

Instead of the usual black gym shoes, the man’s shoes are red. I don’t know how I missed it before.

I drag my eyes back up his body with a grin, and he gives just the slightest roll of his eyes to indicate that he’s noticed my slow perusal and isn’t fazed in the least.

“You went shopping, Dorothy!” I say happily.

He stares at me. “I don’t shop.”

Of course not. Far too frivolous.

“No, that makes sense,” I say, pointing at his feet. “Glinda would have given these to you.”

Andrew looks down at his Rolex watch. “I’ve got to go. Have a good day, Mr. Ramirez.”

“You too, Mr. Mulroney,” Ramon says with a deferential nod. “Enjoy your workout.”

“Yes, do,” I say, turning and watching as Andrew moves toward the front door of our building. “What’s on the schedule today? Treadmill, or just skipping down the Yellow Brick Road?”

Andrew Mulroney, Esquire, doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even turn before pushing through the revolving doors and stepping out into the still-dark autumn morning.

Now come on. Tell me that wasn’t at least a little bit fun, despite the ungodly hour.

Meet Author Lauren Layne. ..

Lauren Layne is the New York Times bestselling author of over a dozen romantic comedies.

A former e-commerce and web marketing manager from Seattle, Lauren relocated to New York City in 2011 to pursue a full-time writing career.

She lives in midtown Manhattan with her high-school sweetheart, where she writes smart romantic comedies with just enough sexy-times to make your mother blush. In LL’s ideal world, every stiletto-wearing, Kate Spade wielding woman would carry a Kindle stocked with Lauren Layne books.

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Links to Lauren’s website, blog, books, etc.

Link to Follow Blast:

http://tastybooktours.com/tours-master/2017/2/4/walk-of-shame-release-lauren-layne

Goodreads Link:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32491187-walk-of-shame

Goodreads Series Link:

https://www.goodreads.com/series/177149-love-unexpectedly

Buy Links:     AMAZON | B & N | GOOGLE | ITUNES | KOBO

Author Links:   WEBSITE   |   FACEBOOK  |   TWITTER  |   GOODREADS

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Thanks, Lauren, for sharing your book with us!

Don’t miss the chance to read this book!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

**Author Peek** Interview with Debra Salonen, THE INHERITANCE (Black Hills Legacy)

**Author Peek** Interview with DEBRA SALONEN

THE INHERITANCE (Black Hills Legacy)

INTRODUCING…Debra.

1. What appeals to you about the genre that you write?

Romantic Suspense adds another dimension to a relationship. The hero and heroine not only have to overcome whatever personal issues they’re dealing with, they also have an outside dilemma that keeps them busy. Since I’m a firm believer of HEA, the will-she-or-won’t-he-survive element of RS shakes things up and provides an interesting twist or two to a pre-determined conclusion.

2. Are you a plotter or a pantser (one who writes “by the seat of her pants”?

Both. I write my first draft in Scrivener. I set up a basic skeleton of the story before I begin. I love being able to save visual images of my characters here. I also save photos of my setting and anything I happen to stumble across that feels like it might have a place in this story. Since conflict is central, I try to figure out that key component and how it will be resolved before I begin. But once I start writing and I really get to know my characters, all bets are off. Even the best laid plots sometimes wind up in the Cutting Room Floor file.

3. What is your favorite part of writing?

Research. I never know where this will take me. Sometimes, the path of discovery is so convoluted I can’t remember what I thought I was looking for when I discovered exactly what I needed.

For example, there’s a scene in Black Hills Legacy that involves an Escape Room. I, personally, have never been to one, but when I stumbled across a mention in looking up something else in the Black Hills, a bright, shiny light bulb lit up in my head and I KNEW this was something my heroine would want to build at the Mystery Spot.

I wound up interviewing several people who had participated in an Escape Room challenge. The process gave me lots of ideas to include in my story.

4. If you had to give up writing and do something else, what would you do instead?

Retire and travel. But then I’d probably feel the need to blog about my experiences, which would mean I didn’t give up writing, after all.

5. What’s your favorite meal of the day?

It used to be breakfast, but, now, I’m a big fan of: linner. (My niece told me this is a combination of late lunch and early dinner.) Since I often forget to eat lunch, linner is perfect timing for me when my husband has the day off. We dine early enough to go back outside and work in the yard or garden before the mosquitos attack.

6. Which are your favorite characters to write, the female or the male characters? Why?

Male. I love how simple things look to my heroes at first. And there’s something very refreshing about the moment they realize everything they thought they knew was wrong.

7. If you had a superpower, what would it be, and how would you use it?

Invisibility. I tell people: “Anything you say or do may appear in my next novel.” They don’t believe me, but it’s true. If I were invisible, I could take notes without anyone seeing.

8. Many writers dream of having the ideal location to write. If you could live anywhere in the world, or live in a particular lifestyle, where would you be answering these questions right now?

Believe it or not, I’m there now. I just moved from the home that my husband and I built thirty years ago into the home I’ve coveted for thirty years. My new house is smaller—two-bedrooms/two-baths—with a killer view. When my husband built it for my widowed mother, she insisted on including an indoor greenhouse. That wasn’t the most practical application, but it makes a FABULOUS office. From my wall of windows I have a sweeping view of oaks, a stream and distant hillsides. I’m right where I want to be—plus, I’m too tired from the move to think about going anywhere else. Sigh.

9. Do you have any rejection stories to share? Reviews that meant something special to you?

One review that I’ve never forgotten came in the mail years ago from a man who read my book aloud to his invalid wife. He said she enjoyed my book very much, but he took exception to the name of the town in the book. He’d visited the library and consulted every atlas available and there was no town named Gold Creek in California. He wished I’d done better research.

I wrote back telling him how much I respected him for reading to his wife and that Gold Creek only existed in my imagination, but if my story made him think it was a real town, then I was a very happy writer.

10. Tell us about your next book & when is it being published?

BLACK HILLS LEGACY: The Inheritance releases wide TOMORROW!

I’m so excited about this book, which is #10 in my Black Hills Legacy series and #12 in The Inheritance Collection.

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Be sure to come back to learn more about Debra’s novel, THE INHERITANCE, on Wednesday’s Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog.

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Links to Debra’s website, blog, books, etc.

Read an Excerpt: http://debrasalonen.com/?page_id=2755

iBooks:

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/black-hills-legacy-inheritance/id1114674932?mt=11

KOBO:

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/black-hills-legacy-the-inheritance

Amazon:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06Y2JZ7KR

Amazon UK:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B06Y2JZ7KR

Amazon CA:

https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B06Y2JZ7KR

Amazon AU:

https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B06Y2JZ7KR

BN:

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/black-hills-legacy-debra-salonen/1126170910

Google:

https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=05abDgAAQBAJ

Amazon

Facebook  Twitter  Website Blog

Never miss a new release – follow me on BookBub

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**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: DEBRA SAYS…Since I’ll be unpacking during Spring Break, I can only dream of exotic locales. What’s your ideal/fantasy Spring getaway?

One winner who comments on her **Author Peek** Interview or Karen’s Killer Book Bench blogs will be chosen to receive a $15 gift card from Amazon.

Thanks, Debra, for sharing your book with us!

Don’t miss the chance to read this book!

Karen’s Killer Fixin’s **Author Special** with ECHOES IN TIME (Esterloch Book 2) author, Stacey A. Purcell ~ #recipe Applesauce Cake

Karen’s Killer Fixin’s

**AUTHOR SPECIAL**

with STACEY A. PURCELL!

Welcome to my Friday bonus feature called Karen’s Killer Fixin’s **Author Special**!! Today, in lieu of one of my own recipes, I’m going to introduce you to a new author who will share one of her favorite recipes. Not only will you and I occasionally learn how to make something new and delicious, but we’ll get a chance to check out some wonderful authors. Introducing author, STACY A. PURCELL, and her favorite recipe for APPLESAUCE CAKE!

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ECHOES IN TIME

Esterloch Book 2

BY STACEY A. PURCELL



BLURB

AWAY FROM THE FRONT

Roark Foster kills at work. Truly. As a sniper for the Green Berets, he’s snuffed everything ever asked of him, including all emotion. That last part was easy. After the tragedies of his youth with a Native American heritage, his heart had to go—which makes it all the more difficult to return to Esterloch, NY, to settle the estate of his recently deceased mother. And to deal with the desperate stranger he finds lurking in his yard.

…AND INTO A MINEFIELD

Dr. Monica Peterson’s first step was to hide. That’s why she came to this tiny upstate town, fleeing everyone and everything to stay safe. Next will come Plan B, when she thinks of it, but until then her secrets will stay her own. Yet one intractable soldier calls out to her with his hard eyes and harder body, promising both solace and ineffable danger. For the past is not a war you can escape, and every step with Roark will lead toward an explosion: of old enemies, of hidden pain, and of a love that can erase all want.

ECHOES IN TIME

Esterloch Book 2

BY STACEY A. PURCELL

(Editorial Note: Edited for *F language)

EXCERPT

They’re going to finish me this time.

Her face plowed into the soft, moist dirt. Leaves and twigs scraped her cheek, stinging, but seemed no more painful than a mosquito bite compared to the rest of her body. As quickly as she was pushed down face-first, her attacker flipped her over and slapped a large hand over her mouth. He straddled her while gathering her flailing arms easily with his other hand.

Please, she prayed, make it quick.

It was unlikely she’d survive another round of “persuasion.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she gave up the struggle. Every move she made increased her pain quotient a thousand times. If they were going to kill her, she wouldn’t fight. Hair, dirt and leaves were flung across her face, blocking any sight of her attacker.

Good. She didn’t want to see him anyway.

She waited for a blow. Nothing came. Instead of giving her false hope, it made her sob louder. This sorry piece of work was playing with her. Making her wait.

“Shut up,” the man growled.

She couldn’t. No power on earth could make her stop crying. Pain and fear melded into an ugly cold instrument of torment.

He pushed down harder on her mouth. “Shut the f*(k up.”

Tears flowed in earnest as she tried to shake the punishing hand off her mouth. She screamed through her throat. Agony invaded every molecule of her battered being, taking her beyond caring what was going to happen.

The man shifted his weight to sit more squarely on her chest while yanking her hands tighter in his. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

A bone moved. She jerked. Tortuous misery flashed across her chest and blessed darkness engulfed her.

****

“What? What the…” She had gone limp and stopped moving. “Hey.” He shook her hands to wake her. They fell to the side when he let go. She was out. The question was why. He hadn’t hurt her although he could have quite easily. For a burglar, she sucked.

Curiosity drove him to brush the tangled wad of leaves and hair off her face. He pulled the flashlight out of his pocket to get more light than what the measly porch light offered. He wanted a better look at his burglar. What he discovered shocked the hell out of him.

This girl looked more like an angel than a wood-clubbing thief. He pulled on his beard while he mulled over her finely arched eyebrows, high delicate cheekbones, skin like his mother’s porcelain china and soft, plump lips that begged to be kissed.

Whoa, Foster. Get your head off that track and back on to what you’re going to do with her.

A quick threat assessment told him she wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon. Why had she passed out? The way she screamed suggested pain and a lot of it. He knew he hadn’t caused it so the next step was to find the source. Everything checked out until he got to her stomach and rubbed against something rough underneath her shirt. He unbuttoned the cotton blouse and pushed it back.

Holy crap.

Someone or something had used this sweet little body as the end point of a wrecking ball and had beat the shit out of her. Purple and blue bruises bled out from under her makeshift bandage and bra. Her shoulder was swollen with four oval bruises, about an inch apart, covering the space beneath her clavicle.

Duct tape held her together. He’d seen some of the guys do this in the field to support busted ribs until they could get back to base and pain meds.

Confident she was no threat to his safety, he gently lifted her off the ground and headed into the house.

Even unconscious, her face tightened in a grimace as he jostled her in his arms. It must hurt like a motherf*)ker. Her head rolled into his chest making him catch his breath. She was…a woman. A good-looking woman. One, despite her condition and what she had been about to do, made him think about things he had no business thinking.

It had been far too long.

He shouldered open the front door and brought her straight to the couch, where he stretched her out. Before he called Todd to come haul her ass to jail, he wanted to find out what she thought she was doing. It was clear as a bell she wasn’t a career criminal and she had no survival skills to speak of. So why does a woman like this go sneaking around a house in the middle of a forest if she wasn’t looking to do a heist?

And why do it all banged up?

Too many questions and he wanted answers.

Roark took the stairs two at a time to snatch up his first aid kit. He grabbed the ammonia ampoule and headed back down. Maybe she had been in a car accident. Whatever happened, it did an ugly number on her.

He crushed the small container and waved it under her nose. She jerked her head back and forth to escape the noxious odor, but he followed so there was nothing she could do but breathe in the sharp chemical.

“No. Get away from me.” She slapped half-heartedly at his hand, a southern accent thick and slurry.

Once she came into contact with his body, her eyes flew open and there was no doubt of the message. Pure terror. Instead of struggling, she went still as if she were positioned to take a punch. Shallow pants increased in speed.

Broken ribs and abject fear were not a good combination.

“If you’re going to kill me, do it quickly. Please.” She stared at the screen door, refusing to look back at him.

“Kill you? What the hell?” He pulled on his beard. It was hard to decide where she fell on the crazy meter. “Did you escape from a hospital? Are you lost? Because if you’re a burglar, that was an epic failure.”

That did the trick. After a pause, she turned her head to look at him. “What are you talking about? Aren’t you here to kill me?”

“Okay. That’s it. You’ve got to be batshit crazy.” He headed to the phone to make the call he kicked himself for not making sooner. “Lady, you were the one sneaking around my mother’s house.” He punched in Todd Hutchins’s number, the new sheriff in Esterloch.

“Your mother’s…wait a minute. Are you Roark?”

“How do you know my name?” The phone buzzed in his ear with each unanswered ring.

“I’m Monica Peterson.”

About Author Stacey A. Purcell… 

Texas girl by birth, child of the world by choice.

While I was born in Texas, it was a momentary lay-over on our way back to Venezuela. My dad was in the oil industry and that allowed me to have my backyard in countries like Norway, Malaysia, Singapore, and Thailand. I never lived in the U.S. until my mom dropped me off for college in New Orleans. Talk about culture shock!

I earned my undergrad (French Literature and Education) and grad (Early Childhood Development) degrees from Tulane University. As soon as I finished, it was back off to Malaysia to teach! After that, I was on my way to work in Beijing when my grandfather became ill and I returned to Texas. I met my husband on an airplane and the rest is history. We now have two kids and hop planes whenever we can.

I’ve dabbled in writing my whole life. When I was a kid, I used to write and paint my own illustrations! The first “novel” I wrote (if you could call it that) was on hotel stationary while we spent the summer in London for my father’s job. The hotel staff would slip me tons of extra pages so I could finish the story. A passion that led me to being published on Amazon!

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Links to Stacey’s Website, Books, & Social Media:

Amazon:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XNPPWGN

Smashwords:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/711309

Kobo:

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/echoes-in-time-2

Website:  http://www.staceyapurcell.com/

I hope you enjoy the recipe Stacey is sharing today on Karen’s Killer Fixin’s. Happy eating!

Karen

P.S. We’re at 307 recipes and counting with this posting. Hope you find some recipes you like. If this is your first visit, please check out past blogs for more Killer Fixin’s. In the right hand column menu, you can even look up past recipes by type. i.e. Desserts, Breads, Beef, Chicken, Soups, Author Specials, etc.

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APPLESAUCE CAKE

1-1/2 cup brown sugar

1/2 cup butter

3 eggs

2-1/2 cups flour

3/4 cup buttermilk

1-1/2 cups warmed cinnamon applesauce

1 tsp. baking soda

1/2 tsp. salt

1 tsp. nutmeg

1 tsp. cinnamon

1 tsp. cloves

1 cup raisins (optional)

2 cups chopped pecans (optional)

Cream butter and sugar. Add eggs. Mix dry ingredients together. Dribble in to mixer, alternating with the buttermilk. Add warm applesauce. Fold in raisins and nuts. Pour into 2 bread pans or one large roasting pan.

350 degrees for 45 minutes for bread pans. 1hr. 15 min. for roaster.

A NOTE FROM STACEY: This recipe was handed down from my great grandmother- Amelia May Foster. (The hero’s last name is Foster and my heroine calls upon her Grandmother Amelia for guidance!)

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**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Stacey is giving away an ebook copy of ECHOES IN TIME to two lucky winners who comment on her Karen’s Killer Fixin’s blog.

Thanks, Stacey, for sharing your book with us!

Don’t miss the chance to read this book!

Karen’s Killer Book Bench: Forbidden Kisses (Blushing Bay #1) by Annie Rains

 KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!

~~

FORBIDDEN KISSES

Blushing Bay #1

BY ANNIE RAINS

Blurb

For years, Jack Sawyer’s family has been running their upscale seafood business like a finely tuned machine. But every machine breaks down eventually, and suddenly Jack needs a new office manager, a new kayak launch, and a new lease on life. Then Grace Donner shows up again. She’s smart, motivated, and perfect for the manager position, but if she’s anything like her mom, she can’t be trusted. And Jack has never been able to trust himself around Grace.

Grace hasn’t seen her former stepbrothers since their parents’ messy divorce, but she never forgot them—especially Jack. She misses being part of the big rambunctious Sawyer clan, and if there’s an opportunity to set things right, she means to do it. But she can’t ignore Jack’s irresistibly kissable lips, or the searing way he looks at her when he thinks she’s not looking. Their chemistry is more explosive than ever. And if the Sawyers can forgive and forget, anything is possible.

FORBIDDEN KISSES

Blushing Bay #1

BY ANNIE RAINS

Jack reached for a folded blanket beside the cooler and laid it down on the open floor of the boat. “I know it’s not the most comfortable surface for lying back, but I thought we could look at the stars. It’s a favorite pastime of fishermen, you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

He reached for her hand to help her lower to the floor. She held on to his tightly, surprised at how off balanced she felt. Then they lay back together, close enough that they touched. The soft hair on Jack’s arm resting against hers aroused her senses.

Were they really just going to look at the stars?

Yes, it was all very romantic, but so was doing other things under the stars. Things she’d been thinking about since stepping aboard.

Jack pointed up at the sky and started to speak. Grace was tired of talking, though. Tired of resisting what she wanted, and right now all she wanted was Jack.

Unable to help herself, uninhibited by the wine and the romantic environment, she rolled on top of him and crushed her mouth over his.

Judging by the stiff protrusion that met her inner thigh, he wanted her just as much.

“Well, hello there,” he said, smiling against her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” she said, even though she didn’t mean it.

His hand slid down her back and settled on her bottom, pulling her snug against him. “I’m not. I’d decided tonight was for romance only, but I can’t think of anything more romantic than making love to you on this boat.”

White-hot heat tore through her. She was so hot that maybe it was time to start stripping.

As if reading her mind, Jack tugged the hem of her shirt up on her back and then over her head. The rest of her clothes fell away in the wake of his needy hands until she was tipsy and naked on the floor of his pontoon boat—on a boat ride to nowhere in particular, except his body was promising to shoot her to the low-hanging full moon.

Meet Author Annie Rains. ..

Annie Rains is a USA Today bestselling author who writes small-town love stories set in fictional towns on the coast of North Carolina. Raised in one of America’s largest military communities, Annie often features heroes who fight for their countries, while also fighting for a place to call home and a good woman to love. When Annie isn’t writing, she’s spending time with her husband and three children, or reading a book by one of her favorite authors.

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Links to Annie’s website, blog, books, etc.

Link to Follow Tour:

http://tastybooktours.com/tours-master/2017/1/18/forbidden-kisses-annie-rains

Goodreads Link:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32717694-forbidden-kisses



Goodreads Series Link:

https://www.goodreads.com/series/196464-blushing-bay

Buy Links:     AMAZON | B & N | GOOGLE | ITUNES | KOBO

Author Links:   WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS

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Thanks, Annie, for sharing your book with us!

Don’t miss the chance to read this book!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Karen’s Killer Book Bench: The Pony Express Romance Collection: Historic Express Mail Route Delivers Nine Inspiring Romances by Donna Schlachter ETAL

 KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!

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THE PONY EXPRESS ROMANCE COLLECTION:

HISTORIC EXPRESS MAIL ROUTE DELIVERS NINE INSPIRING ROMANCES



BY BARBARA TIFFT BLAKEY, MARY DAVIS, DARLENE FRANKLIN CYNTHIA HICKEY, MAUREEN LANG, DEBBY LEE, DONNA SCHLACHTER, CONNIE STEVENS & PEGG THOMAS

Blurb

About Echoes of the Heart and The Pony Express Romance Collection:

This is a 9-in-1 novella collection from Barbour Books centered on the Pony Express, which ran from April 1860 through November 1861. The Pony Express already seems to be a romantic snippet of Americana, and so it seemed to make sense to write a collection of historical romance set on the trail. My story, Echoes of the Heart, features a mail order bride responding under an assumed name, a crippled station master who thinks no woman will want him, and their search for a future—together or separately.

THE PONY EXPRESS ROMANCE COLLECTION:

HISTORIC EXPRESS MAIL ROUTE DELIVERS NINE INSPIRING ROMANCES



BY BARBARA TIFFT BLAKEY, MARY DAVIS, DARLENE FRANKLIN CYNTHIA HICKEY, MAUREEN LANG, DEBBY LEE, DONNA SCHLACHTER, CONNIE STEVENS & PEGG THOMAS

First page of Echoes of the Heart:

Hollenberg Pony Express Station

By Donna Schlachter

Kansas Territory

May 1860

Chapter 1

Catherine Malloy braced a hand against the doorframe as the stage rounded a turn. A cloud of dust encircled the coach, filtering through the gaps in the doors, the curtains, the floor, and the roof, threatening to choke her. She coughed politely behind her gloved hand, cringing at the sight of the stains on her once-white hand coverings. Her spirits were as rumpled as her sleeves and skirt. Would the dirt ever come out?

But no matter how primitive the conditions, no matter how hostile the natives or how cold the winters—all stories she’d heard about the Wild West—she would not turn back.

She had nowhere to turn back.

When she’d excitedly read the advertisement in the magazine to her friend Margaret, neither had truly contemplated just how far the Kansas Territory was from Boston. Four days on the train to St. Joseph, Missouri had been just the beginning. Three days in this bouncing torture chamber, surrounded by surly men, snot-nosed children, and sharp-tongued women caused her to question her sanity and her decision more than once. She’d already eaten more dust than she’d known existed.

In Mr. Troudt’s first letter, he’d explained that he ran a way station and needed a wife. Neither she nor Margaret knew what that was. They knew a man from Australia, who talked about working at a sheep station. Perhaps a way station was similar.

Not that any of that mattered. She had no reason to go back. No family. No job.

Not after the way Master Talbott had approached her.

She shifted her drawstring purse from its place on the floor behind her feet. Its weight clanged against the boards. While not her ill-gotten bag of coins and jewelry, the packet weighed on her heart and her conscience equally.

She glanced at her fellow passengers as they rocked in time with the movement of the stage. A man in a suit who looked like a banker or a lawyer. Next to him, a minister coming west to seek his flock, as he’d told her at least a dozen times in the past four days. Sitting beside her, a woman traveling through to California, who’d said little to anybody, instead keeping her face hidden beneath a wide-brimmed hat. Catherine had lost count of the people with whom she’d shared cramped quarters. Most were strange traveling companions, to be certain. Not that she was looking for a bosom friend.

She would stay here. Hollenberg Station, Kansas Territory. Where the Oregon and California Trails brought emigrants past what would become her new home. Very different from her parents’ house where she’d grown up. Not at all like the even grander Georgian house she’d lived in with her aunt and uncle.

Until he’d squandered her inheritance and forced her into servitude in the Talbott mansion.

Meet Author Donna Schlachter. ..

Donna lives in Denver with husband Patrick, her first-line editor and biggest fan. She writes historical suspense under her own name, and contemporary suspense under her alter ego of Leeann Betts. She is a hybrid publisher who has published a number of books under her pen name and under her own name. Her current release, Echoes of the Heart, a 9-in-1 novella collection titled “Pony Express Romance Collection” released April 1. Donna is also a ghostwriter and editor of fiction and non-fiction, and judges in a number of writing contests. She will be teaching an online course for American Christian Fiction Writers in June 2017, “Don’t let your subplots sink your story”. Donna loves history and research, and travels extensively for both.

~~~

Links to Donna’s website, blog, books, etc.

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2oTKgTL

Echoes of the Heart: http://amzn.to/2lBaqcW

www.HiStoryThruTheAges.wordpress.com

www.HiStoryThruTheAges.com

Facebook: www.Facebook.com/DonnaschlachterAuthor

Twitter: www.Twitter.com/DonnaSchlachter

Books: http://amzn.to/2ci5Xqq

~~~

**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Donna is giving away a print copy (U.S. ONLY) of THE PONY EXPRESS to one lucky winner who comments on her **Author Peek** Interview or Karen’s Killer Book Bench blogs.

Thanks, Donna, for sharing your book with us!

Don’t miss the chance to read this book!

Karen’s Killer Book Bench: Crash and Burn (The Walker Brothers Book 1) by Amanda Adams

 KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!

~~

CRASH AND BURN

The Walker Brothers Book 1

BY AMANDA ADAMS

Blurb

One woman. Two identities. He wants them both…

The guitar in his grip revives a childhood promise, but he needs sexy Erin Michaelson as his music teacher. When he sees her on stage using another name — and seducing an entire audience — she brings more back to life than just his music.

A single, sizzling backstage kiss will change both of their lives forever. Chance soon realizes that Erin is not just an itch, she’s an obsession he refuses to live without.

Publisher’s Note: Crash and Burn was previously released under the same title by another publisher.

CRASH AND BURN

The Walker Brothers Book 1

BY AMANDA ADAMS

Chapter One

Erin Michaelson spotted Mr. Suit-and-Tie the minute he walked into the store. Tall and fit with model good looks, his dark blue suit molded broad shoulders to perfection. He had wavy brown hair that looked so soft her fingers actually twitched on the glass countertop. His eyes were warm and sharply focused wherever he looked. The deep chocolate brown of his eyes were perfectly framed by lashes longer than hers, which just wasn’t fair.

Leaning over the counter to get a closer look, she knocked over the pencil container at the register with a loud bang. Pens, pencils and paperclips went flying over the glass with a loud clatter that drew his attention.

Shit. He was coming over.

Nerves on overheat, she scrambled to pick up the pens, but his damn presence made her fingers shake and she dropped half of them. What was up with that?

“Here. Let me help.” He was close now, so close she could smell his spicy cologne, like a mix of dark chocolate and cinnamon. His scent invaded her system and made her imagine nibbling on him. Everywhere. He looked a couple years older than she was and his ring finger was bare, not that she was looking. Nope. She had the insane urge to bury her nose against his neck to see if he smelled just as good up close.

In about five seconds flat he had the entire mess cleaned up and stood, watching her mouth with dark, brooding eyes. She would have donated a pint of blood right then and there to know what he was thinking, because he looked like he might be, possibly, could be, thinking about kissing her. Which made her think about kissing him back. Before she knew it, she licked her lips slowly, wondering if he’d even notice.

He didn’t move, and she started to feel like a caged bird behind the counter. “Um, thanks. For helping.”

“Sure.” He grinned and looked her in the eye. She wished he hadn’t because her heart pounded and it felt like a car had just parked on her chest.

When she remained as frozen as an ice sculpture, he gave her a quick nod and wandered toward the back, to the guitars where Samantha looked all too eager to help him select a guitar.

Great. Nerdy loser girl sees hot guy and freezes yet again. Why did she always freak and lose her nerve? Why couldn’t she be more like her onstage alter ego? That bitch was wild and fearless, a total animal on stage.

Her alter ego would jump the counter and follow him, but the butterflies in her stomach kept her on her side of the counter. Besides, her frayed rock band T-shirt, ragged jeans, ponytail, and bare face was very strong man repellent. And she really just needed to keep her head on straight, not get distracted by a walking daydream.

She glanced down to the song she was writing. Yep. The super-smart thing to do was to let Samantha get close to all that hotness. Samantha was beautiful, bubbly, and dressed in an adorable sweater and leggings. Where Sam never met a stranger, and could talk to anyone, Erin knew that she came across as quiet and intense on a good day. Sam was fire and Erin was ice. Today, she didn’t even want to try to compete with the ginger. Erin’s band, Fourth Strike, had practiced until two in the morning, and she’d had to be at work in the music store by eight. She’d barely had time for a shower, let alone lipstick and perfume.

Their lone customer took his time with the guitars, touching many of them with long, lean hands. He ran his fingertips over the smooth sides and rough edges gently, explored the guitars like a lover would. The visual, and the complete attention he gave to the instruments, made her squirm. His reverence for the guitars came through in the soft glide of his fingers and the serene look on his face, and she couldn’t stop her imagination from replacing the six-string under his hands with the soft dips and curves of her own naked flesh.

Meet Author Amanda Adams. ..

Amanda Adams is a contemporary pen name for sci-fi/paranormal romance author Michele Callahan. As Amanda, she writes super-sexy, new adult romance. If you can’t handle what she calls “keeping it real”, you can’t handle falling in love with her dirty-mouthed, a**-kicking Walker brothers.

The funny, sexy, sweet contemporary Magical Matchmaker series she co-writes with her one true love, and the mysterious, meddling matchmaker, Opal, is based on her real-life grandmother, who was an amazing character and inspiration for anyone who knew her.

~~~

Links to Amanda’s website, blog, books, etc.

Amazon US: 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06Y36TLDH/?tag=tydbyts-20

Amazon UK:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B06Y36TLDH/?tag=tydbyts-20

iBooks: 

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/crash-and-burn/id1223329294?mt=11

B&N: 

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/crash-and-burn-amanda-adams/1126176551?ean=2940157595661

Kobo: 

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/crash-and-burn-20

Sign up for Amanda’s VIP Reader List!

http://bit.ly/AmandaNews

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AmandaAdamsAuth

E-mail: amandaadamsauthor ( at ) gmail.com

Web:

www.amandaadamsauthor.com or www.michelecallahan.com

~~~

**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Amanda is giving away an ebook copy of CRASH AND BURN to one lucky winner who comments on her Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog.

Thanks, Amanda, for sharing your book with us!

Don’t miss the chance to read this book!

**Author Peek** Interview with Donna Schlachter, THE PONY EXPRESS ROMANCE COLLECTION: Historic Express Mail Route Delivers Nine Inspiring Romances

**Author Peek** Interview with DONNA SCHLACHTER

THE PONY EXPRESS ROMANCE COLLECTION:

Historic Express Mail Route Delivers Nine Inspiring Romances

By Barbara Tifft Blakey, Mary Davis, Darlene Franklin, Cynthia Hickey, Maureen Lang, Debby Lee, Donna Schlachter, Connie Stevens & Pegg Thomas

INTRODUCING…Donna Schlachter.

Before we get started talking about your writing, tell us a little about yourself, where you’re from, what you do for a living (if you’re not a full-time writer) what hobbies you have, etc. Whatever you’d like to share to introduce yourself.

I live in Denver with husband Patrick, my first-line editor and biggest fan. I write historical suspense/romance under my own name, and contemporary suspense under my alter ego of Leeann Betts. I am a hybrid author who has published a number of books under my pen name and under my own name. My current release, Echoes of the Heart, a 9-in-1 novella collection titled “Pony Express Romance Collection” released April 1. I am also a ghostwriter and editor of fiction and non-fiction, and I judge in a number of writing contests. I will be teaching an online course for American Christian Fiction Writers in June 2017, “Don’t let your subplots sink your story”. I love history and research, and I travel extensively for both. 

1. What appeals to you about the genre that you write? I love history and I love mysteries, because I have a strong sense of justice and I’m nosy.

2. Are you a plotter or a pantser (one who writes “by the seat of your pants”)? I am a plotter, and I used to do character charts and plot charts and all the rest – but I’ve recently learned that a good synopsis can get me through to The End.

3. What is your favorite part of writing? I love writing The End.

4. If you had to give up writing and do something else, what would you do instead? Anything that would give voice to the stories in my head. Maybe read to children.

5. What’s your favorite meal of the day? Anything that includes food J Seriously, dinner. I like meat. And potatoes. And corn. No spinach or beets.

6. Which are your favorite characters to write, the female characters or the male characters? Why? I prefer writing the male characters. Not sure why, except they don’t look at romance in the same ooshy-gooshy way, and that’s more like me.

7. If you had a superpower, what would it be, and how would you use it? I would be able to hear and remember people’s conversations. I don’t know how many times I’ve tried eavesdropping in a restaurant, for example, but then somebody at my table will ask a question and I lose what those other people were saying. I would use my superpower to write unbelievably real dialogue.

8. Many writers dream of having the ideal location to write. If you could live anywhere in the world or live a particular lifestyle, where would you be answering these questions right now?

Somewhere warm. With either a beach or a lake outside my office. And somebody else looking after the house and cooking meals. And shopping for me. So I could just write. And read.

9. Do you have any rejection stories to share ? Reviews that meant something special to you?

I once went to a writers conference and pitched my cozy mystery series, and the editor said, “Nobody wants to read about accountants. They’re boring.” Which is where I got the tagline for my series

Congratulations Week 04-03-17 Blog Giveaway Winners!

 CONGRATULATIONS WEEK

04-03-17 BLOG GIVEAWAY WINNERS!!

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Karen’s Killer Book Bench with Bill Hopkins…

**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Bill is giving away a signed and personalized copy of COURTING MURDER to one lucky winner who comments on his **Author Peek** Interview or Karen’s Killer Book Bench blogs. Thank you, Bill, for sharing your story with us.

WINNER: LINDA MOFFITT !

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Karen’s Killer Book Bench with Belle Blackburn…

**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Belle is giving away a paperback (U.S. Only) or Kindle copy of THE DOCTOR’S DAUGHTER to one lucky winner who comments on her Karen’s Killer Fixin’s blog. Thank you, Belle, for sharing your story with us.

WINNER: EILEEN ABERMAN-WELLS !

~~~

EVERYONE’S A WINNER WHEN YOU READ A DOCTER NOVEL!!!

Enter to Win

60+ Heroes in Uniform Romance

&

A Kindle Fire!!!

FINAL DAY APRIL 10, 2017

I’ve teamed up with more than 60 fantastic Heroes in Uniform Romance authors to give away a huge collection of novels to 2 lucky winners, PLUS a Kindle Fire to the Grand Prize winner!

You can win my novel COP ON HER DOORSTEP (currently discounted at $1.99 for limited time), plus books from authors like MELISSA FOSTER and DALE MAYER.

Enter the giveaway by clicking here: bit.ly/hero-uniform-rom

Cop On Her Doorstep Buy Links:

Amazon: http://goo.gl/bUHNMu

B&N: http://goo.gl/6uoZTd

Kobo: http://goo.gl/fd92aB

~~~

KILLING SECRETS

A Thorne’s Thorn Novel – Book One

by K. L. Docter

**LIMITED TIME** Discount $3.99!!

Blurb: Some secrets are better left dead. Too bad the Angel Killer’s digging them up. Rachel James’ ex-husband is released from prison determined to reclaim her and her traumatized child, his key to the James fortune. Patrick Thorne isn’t interested in helping another of his parents’ charity cases, especially after losing his unborn son and wife to suicide. Only trust will untangle the secrets that dominate their lives, free a child of her silent prison, and save them both from a killer who stands too close.

“This romantic suspense is full of wonderful secrets, twists, turns and has an evil serial killing villain. The kind of killer we see on the TV show CRIMINAL MINDS.”–RT Book Reviews, Bernadette Cychner

All of Karen/K.L. Docter books are stand alone novels. No cliffhangers!

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2m6Bv4P

B&N: http://goo.gl/wsqVxB

Kobo: http://goo.gl/KM563U

iTunes: http://goo.gl/pg58wN

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21965828-killing-secrets?ac=1&from_search=true

HAPPY READING!

~~~

All giveaway winners chosen by random.org from reader comments with the exception of Rafflecopter giveaways which are determined and announced offsite by publisher/authors. Thank you!

Karen’s Killer Fixin’s **Author Special** with THE DOCTOR’S DAUGHTER (Journey to Justice) Author Belle Blackburn #recipe ~ White Chocolate Raspberry Cheesecake

Karen’s Killer Fixin’s

**AUTHOR SPECIAL**

with BELLE BLACKBURN!

Welcome to my Friday bonus feature called Karen’s Killer Fixin’s **Author Special**!! Today, in lieu of one of my own recipes, I’m going to introduce you to a new author who will share one of her favorite recipes. Not only will you and I occasionally learn how to make something new and delicious, but we’ll get a chance to check out some wonderful authors. Introducing author, BELLE BLACKBURN, and her favorite recipe for WHITE CHOCOLATE RASPBERRY CHEESECAKE!

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THE DOCTOR’S DAUGHTER

Journey to Justice

BY BELLE BLACKBURN



BLURB

Everybody, including her mother, believes that Kate’s father committed suicide. Determined to prove otherwise, Kate sets out on a fascinating and sometimes hysterical journey through antebellum law and medicine. Set in 1860s Nashville and told with a biting wit, determined Kate finally discovers the truth – but at what cost? Will she ruin her own life trying to defend the life of her dead father?”

THE DOCTOR’S DAUGHTER

Journey to Justice

BY BELLE BLACKBURN

EXCERPT

We tied bonnets on our heads and wrapped up warmly.  Mama grabbed her bag and I swathed the stew pot in woolen rags to keep it warm and keep the handles from burning my hands.  Danny sat at the front of the wagon with his father, and Mama and I sat in the back facing Danny’s mother.   We took off with a jerk, with the pot a warm oasis between my feet.

“What fortunate timing this is for the Goads, with their daughter in town,” Mrs. Davis said.  “Now she won’t have to come back for the funeral.”

Mama nodded.  “Mr. Goad has been so ill the last weeks, it really comes as no surprise.”

Harley Goad was a crusty old octogenarian who was married to Minnie, an even crustier octogenarian.  I had heard many adjectives used to describe Minnie Goad but ones I had never heard included sophisticated, genteel or sweet.  Ones I had heard were ornery, cantankerous and vexatious.   She also seemed to be missing the gate most people have that keeps the things you think in your mind from jumping out of your mouth.

Mrs. Goad had really gotten my goat awhile back when she stopped me and said, “I saw your daddy the other day.  He had a brick in his hat and was weaving down the road like a Virginia fence.”   My gate was apparently functional since I did not call her a nasty old hag and tell her I hoped she fell off her broom, which I wanted to.  Daddy occasionally would take to drink when he was feeling despondent over his business but it was not that often and it was rude and unkind of Mrs. Goad to make an issue of it.

To say the Goads had a contentious marriage was putting it mildly, but I guess they liked it that way since they had been together for sixty-five tumultuous years.  Mrs. Goad was a believer in hellfire, brimstone and damnation and seemed intent on raining it down on her husband.  Early in their marriage Mrs. Goad got wind that Mr. Goad was involved in a card game.  She grabbed her shotgun and went to reiterate to her husband that no one in their household would ever play cards.  When Mrs. Goad got to the barn where the sin was occurring, she walked in, pointed the gun level at the head of her husband and told him to git.  Commotion ensued and shots were fired and Mrs. Goad lost an eye, though no one knows for sure who fired that shot.  Her eye was sewn shut then.  She continued to try to stalk Mr. Goad into religious submission throughout their marriage and he continued to evade it.

I asked my father why he stayed married to her and he said that for every man there was a woman and there was a nut for every bolt, so while her voice was grating to everyone else, it was probably music to her man’s ears.

A crowd had gathered by the time we arrived and the house was filling up.  Someone had taken on the job of building the coffin, evidenced by the hammering and sawing sounds from the barn.  The table groaned with food and pots sat on the hearth near the fire.

Danny and I wandered from the crowd to look for Mr. Goad and found him in his bed.  A candle on the bed table flickered in the waning sunlight.  He was in a suit so obviously he had been bathed and dressed.  He was not lying on planks like they sometimes were while still on the bed before the coffin was ready.  His hands looked like two spotted frogs lying crosswise on his chest: translucent, fragile skin dotted with brown spots overlying small, delicately threaded veins and pale blue nails.

I leaned over for a better look.  His beaked nose rose prominently off his face like a lone mountain on a plain and the tissue-thin skin covering it sank in under his cheekbones.  His neck looked like a grizzled little chicken’s.

I was reaching out to smooth back a wisp of wayward hair when I saw a flutter of his eyelids, then his eyes popped open and fixed on me.

“Oh, damnation!”  I squealed and leaped back, bumping Danny into the wall behind with a resounding thud.  My heart was hammering and I clapped my hands over my mouth to mute any other expletives that might jump out.

Mr. Goad continued to stare at me and whispered, “What do you want?”

I certainly didn’t want to tell him why we were there but before I could come up with an explanation, people started coming into the bedroom to see what the commotion was.

Mrs. Goad pushed her way past them and lumbered in her wide-based gait over to the side of the bed, hands on her hips, yellow-white, pencil-thin braids circling around the back of her head.  She focused her one icy blue eye on me, then on her husband.

“What the hell is going on, you old crow?” He growled in a whisper, trying to clear his throat weakly.

“These people have come to pay you respects, so act right.”

He glanced down at himself and observed his suit curiously before stating the obvious.  “I ain’t dead.”

“You will be soon enough.  We ain’t burying you ‘til tomorrow.”

“Why, you…”  Whatever Mr. Goad was going to say was interrupted by a long, low, rumbling cough that seemed to start at his toes and work its way slowly up to a weak exit from his mouth.  He licked his dry lips.

Mrs. Goad swung her arm back toward the people in the doorway, loose flesh making her sleeve wave underneath, and nodded her head toward Mr. Goad.  “Do you want your own daughter and her family to miss your wake?  You know they have to leave Tuesday and can’t come back.  You need to think of someone besides yourself for once.  And you best be getting right with the Lord because you’re about to meet Him.  Now I got things to tend to.”

Apparently Mr. Goad’s undead status was a surprise to everyone else in the room, too. After Mrs. Goad walked out, the group stood in befuddled silence, looking around as if to see if anyone had any idea what the protocol was in having a wake for a live person.   Everyone just seemed generally uncomfortable.  Mama went after her bag so I knew she was planning to tend to Mr. Goad.

What a waste of time for the Goads’ neighbors!  All of us had chores and work to tend to at home.  We had done the honorable thing, leaving to come help bury Mr. Goad, only to discover he was still alive.

Annoyed, I reached over and snatched the black cloth off the face of the mirror.  There was a collective gasp from the others.  I stood in front of the mirror, looked at myself, then turned to them.

“I am the first person to see my reflection and I’m not going to be the next to die and do you know why?  Because there is no one dead here.”   I saw Mama flash me that “act nice in front of other folks” look as I went out the door, still clutching the black cloth.

Leaving Mama with Mr. Goad, the rest shuffled behind me as a group into the front room.  Mrs. Goad was at the other side of the room, bent over a pot on the fire she was stirring, her broad backside shaking with the effort.

“Should we go home?” Martha Kennedy whispered.

“She rang the bell knowing full well he was still alive.  I expect she would skin us alive if we left,” Judson Owens answered.

“But what about the old man?” Tim Kennedy asked.  “I’m not sure I would be too keen to wake up at my own funeral.”

“He’s probably hoping his time really has come,” Kenny Bailey whispered.  “I doubt he has any fear of death seeing as he’s been living in hell for the last sixty-five years.”

Danny raised his eyebrows in a resigned look.  “I suppose we’d best just take part in this Last Supper.  If that’s what it is…”

“All the same, someone needs to shut the barn door,” Mr. Owens said quietly.  “Even if you’re hoping to die, it still has to blow a chilly gust up your spine to listen to your coffin being built.”

Everyone stayed for the wake, first the meal and then quietly and uncomfortably singing hymns through the night with an occasional nervous tiptoe into Mr. Goad’s room for a peek.  I don’t know where he had hidden it or if someone did it for him, but there was a playing card sticking out of his front pocket – one last jab at his wife.  I’m sure if he had had the strength Mr. Goad would have doused himself in whisky just to irritate her.

Mrs. Goad thoroughly enjoyed the company and all the attention and her prediction proved true – he was dead by the next morning.  I don’t think anyone has ever been so thoroughly checked for a pulse or a breath as Mr. Goad until he was finally pronounced cold as a wagon tire.  Mama stayed by him for hours, and he had become stiff by the time the wagon was ready to take him to the church the next day.  She said she had never been so glad to see rigor mortis in her life.

I decided that night if I ever had a marriage like the Goads, I would be willing to be buried alive myself.”

About Author Belle Blackburn… 

I was the little nerdette with a library card in my kindergarten hand, reading the kiddie books and planning what I would write. Come college time accounting seemed a more certain way to bring in a dollar so journalism was a minor. Writing was put on the back burner while dollars were made and kids and parents were raised, however, reading was always on the front burner. A conversation with my husband 20 years earlier about suicide vs. murder percolated in the back of my mind and then announced it wanted to be written. I obeyed and out came The Doctor’s Daughter: Journey to Justice. The history of Nashville during the Civil War is just so interesting and so important at that time but most people won’t sit down with a history book so I sneaked the history and the antebellum law and medicine in with a good story.

~~~

Links to Belle’s Website, Books, & Social Media:

Amazon:  

https://www.amazon.com/Doctors-Daughter-Journey-Justice-ebook/dp/B009M7TDIM/

Website:  belleblackburn.com

I hope you enjoy the recipe Belle is sharing today on Karen’s Killer Fixin’s. Happy eating!

Karen

P.S. We’re at 306 recipes and counting with this posting. Hope you find some recipes you like. If this is your first visit, please check out past blogs for more Killer Fixin’s. In the right hand column menu, you can even look up past recipes by type. i.e. Desserts, Breads, Beef, Chicken, Soups, Author Specials, etc.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WHITE CHOCOLATE RASPBERRY CHEESECAKE

Courtesy of Cindy Catudal Shank/AllRecipes.com

http://allrecipes.com/recipe/25642/white-chocolate-raspberry-cheesecake/

Ingredients:

1 cup chocolate cookie crumbs

3 T. white sugar

1/4 cup butter,  melted

1 (10 oz.) package frozen raspberries

2 T. white sugar

2 tsp. cornstarch

1/2 cup water

2 cups white chocolate chips

1/2 cup half-and-half cream

3 (8 oz.) packages cream cheese, softened

1/2 cup white sugar

3 eggs

1 tsp. vanilla extract

Directions:

In a medium bowl, mix together cookie crumbs, 3 tablespoons sugar, and melted butter. Press mixture into the bottom of a 9 inch springform pan.
In a saucepan, combine raspberries, 2 tablespoons sugar, cornstarch, and water. Bring to boil, and continue boiling 5 minutes, or until sauce is thick. Strain sauce through a mesh strainer to remove seeds.
Preheat oven to 325 degrees F (165 degrees C). In a metal bowl over a pan of simmering water, melt white chocolate chips with half-and-half, stirring occasionally until smooth.
In a large bowl, mix together cream cheese and 1/2 cup sugar until smooth. Beat in eggs one at a time. Blend in vanilla and melted white chocolate. Pour half of batter over crust. Spoon 3 tablespoons raspberry sauce over batter. Pour remaining cheesecake batter into pan, and again spoon 3 tablespoons raspberry sauce over the top. Swirl batter with the tip of a knife to create a marbled effect.
Bake for 55 to 60 minutes, or until filling is set. Cool, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 8 hours before removing from pan. Serve with remaining raspberry sauce.


Aluminum foil can be used to keep food moist, cook it evenly, and make clean-up easier.

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