Rain Trueax's Blog, page 7

Bound for the Hills excerpt

Willy has been writing dime novels with a fictional hero-- or so she thought.

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    Pulling off his hat, he saw she was in the doorway to what appeared to be the kitchen. “Please come in and tell me about Holly. I wasn’t very polite to you and am sorry for that.”    “You did what Holly would’ve with a stranger approaching that way. Sorry I startled you, Miss Butler.”    “You have come a long way. Would you like a cup of coffee, something to eat?”    He handed her the flour sack. “I did bring you some supplies from Payson.”    She looked in the sack and smiled. “I don’t smoke.” She handed him the Luckys.    “I don’t always either, but there are times.” He put the pack into his shirt pocket.     She smiled. “Like when you are sent after a crazy woman?”    “That would qualify.” Reluctantly, he grinned.     “I’d love to hear how Holly is, but why don’t we eat first. I started a pot of beans this morning, flavored with ham. I think they’re ready.”    “Sounds real good, ma’am.”    “Willy.”    He smiled then as he followed her into the kitchen where there was a small table with two chairs. She set down a small bowl for the little dog and then dished up their food.     After eating, he sat back in the chair and studied the beautiful woman across from him. She was nothing like he had expected.     “You haven’t told me your name,” she said as she poured them each another cup of coffee.     “Cole Taggert.”

a review

A review for Bound for the Hills. If you don't do reviews for what you read or buy, really consider taking some extra time and doing it. It means a lot to future buyers as well as whoever put it out. Even a one sentence review that you liked it helps the writer get more benefits from Amazon.

"When a fan of Historical Western Romance genre books goes to bed at 4:00 am after finishing a story, you have a winner from the author. Then you can't sleep because it is rolling around in your head. I want to be in the Taggert family! The rough lifestyle and often violent situations in the wild areas of Arizona in the early 1900's, doesn't deter me from loving the history of those times. Beautiful landscapes of the mountains, greens of the valleys and lush lakes of the hills makes me want to time travel. This author has the writing talent to keep you tied to the story-line even though you go from San Francisco to Tucson to Payson and into the mountains and never lose track of the people you are reading about. The name Wilhelmina Agatha Tremaine Butler itself makes you wonder where this book is going. Willy lets you see her life in the mountains and appreciate the struggles she had in life to achieve notoriety and find love. Added to this story is a cute dog, her newborn puppies and lighthearted smiles as the animals romp into the cabin high above busy towns. I highly recommend this book and the entire series so you can encounter the Taggert men who settle on ranches in Arizona and meet the women strong enough to love these rough country hombres."

excerpt from Bound for the Hills

The seventh Arizona historical romance is out and on sale for the next week. The link is alongside. Here's an excerpt:

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    Boots on the porch had both them looking toward the door when Vince came through. “You don’t obey orders worth a damn,” he said as he kicked off his boots and walked to the table.
    “When they make sense maybe… sometimes.” Cole smiled and shook his brother’s hand. “You quit work early.”    “Had some mail.” He set a pile of letters on the counter. “Saw this in town too.” He handed Cole a paperback book. “Thought while you were laid up, you might like to read the new one.”    Cole looked down at the cover of the book where a man stood, legs spread wide with a gun pointed at the reader. “What the hell is this?”    “The latest edition of the Taggert family outlaws.” Vince laughed.    “Taggerts?” He stared at the title—The Last Taggert Faces His Fate with Guns Blazing.    “Haven’t you seen them before?”    “You are joking? You have this made up to be funny?” Disgusted, he threw it down on the table.    Vince poured himself some coffee as Holly rose to get the now protesting Josh. “Not at all. There are more of them out there. I figured you had to have seen them.”    “Who is this Will Tremaine?”    “No idea.”    “You don’t think Pa would be writing these?” It would be just like the old man.    “He claims not when I showed him the last one. I think this is the seventeenth.”    “My God, why?”     “They sell. That’s the reason things ends up in stores.”    “How come our name?  Just a coincidence?” This would not be good for his working for law officers or had it been better than he imagined. He wondered if Trask had seen it.    “You tell me. Family came out of Kansas with guns blazing.” Obviously, Vince found it amusing. Cole didn’t see it likewise. He’d worked to live down that name, and here was this jasper making it infamous. He’d like to find Will Tremaine and poke him in the nose.    “It’d just make it into a book,” Vince said sitting across from him with his coffee. He chuckled.    Cole skimmed through the book. It started off with gunplay and looked as though it didn’t let up. This Taggert could take down seven men in a shootout and not even consider it an unusual day. He’d have laughed if it hadn’t been carrying his name. He wondered if someone like that could be sued to get them to stop. “How long have these been out?”    “I didn’t see the first ones. They come out and disappear as fast as they are on the shelves. I’d guess some years since there are seventeen of them.”    “This Tremaine fellow write about more than us? That is not us but using our name?”    “A lot more. He’s pretty famous. People wait for the next one. From what Del said at the store, these go the fastest, but I saw one about a marshal, someone called the Dancing Outlaw, not sure of the name, then the Frisco Kid. That fellow came from San Francisco and…”    Cole interrupted him. “You read them?”    “Just the Taggert ones. They’re kind of fun. I like the invincible part especially.” He grinned as he saw Cole’s irritation. “You’re taking this too seriously, brother. Relax. They can’t arrest us for what happens in a dime novel.”    “You sure?”

Trailer: https://youtu.be/SzytwKPgJ9oAvailable at Amazon on sale until April 1: http://www.amazon.com/Bound-For-The-Hills-Historicals-ebook/dp/B01D7L0IL4
All other sites: https://www.draft2digital.com/book/157077
Paperback when CreateSpace gets it ready later this week 

Sky Daughter excerpt

Sky Daughter was my first paranormal. It's set in the mountains of Idaho, a region that is somewhat isolated. There are actually three entities trying to control the mountain community-- one isn't human. One of the humans is using techniques used by many dictators, but the other has been exploring control of the supernatural-- or so he believes.

Maggie has returned to her grandfather's mountain, which is currently nothing like the Waltons. She meets Reuben when he is trying to steal fuel from the service station where she works. He had come to this beautiful but dark region to relax and do some fishing. He didn't count on being kidnapped. 

So a love story, a cultural exploration that is as current today as it was when I wrote it in the early '90s, and the possibility of real spiritual power-- of the negative and positive sort. I did research on the supernatural exploring the sorts of things some claim to have experienced with no explanation. I'm doing more of that right now for the future paranormal, suspense romances ;). 

Excerpt from Sky Daughter:


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    How far would they hunt him? Had they manufactured evidence that they could use against him outside of Farley, something that could bring him back however far he ran?  They had everything that identified him. They could prove he was him better than he could right now. What could they make of that if they wanted to do it? Were they already using his credit cards? It all came back to the bigger question. Why had they taken him? Would whatever was behind this be enough to put him in a real prison if someone wanted?
    “I need to find out why this happened.”
    “Worry about reasons later. First get down the mountain.”
    He shook his head. Maybe I can’t run from this. Maybe it would follow me.”
    “Have you heard the definition of paranoia?”
    He smiled. “Clinically?” Then he laughed. "You call it an inner voice and think it comes from God. I call it gut instinct, and it comes from surviving.”
    “Surviving will come easier for you elsewhere.”
    “Something is going on up here, Maggie. I know it.”
    “And you think you can find out what without being killed? Heck, I don’t even know that something is going on at all, but if I believed as you did, I’d get out of here fast.”
    “Maybe I learned something which led to whatever followed.”
    “And maybe you didn’t. Maybe the reason isn’t all that unique,” she said.
    “Like what?”
    “Could you have offended someone that night? Did you flirt with a woman at the bar? Maybe irritate her boyfriend enough to hit you over the head?”
    “You are kidding, right?”
    “A lot of mountain men would look with keen disfavor on some handsome Easterner coming in and trying to take away one of their women.”
    He gave a snort. “I don’t even flirt with women in the city.”
 

Bound for the Hills excerpt

 I am into the final edit for the seventh Arizona historical romance due out this month, Bound for the Hills. So far so good :). It's a little different than the others, but does carry on some familiar characters. I always think of my books as novels as much as romances. As a novel, it stands up fine, hopefully also as a spicy romance ;)

This excerpt is in the edit mode; so may change by the time it is actually published. Image above is Willy as she arrives in Payson, a strange world indeed for a lady from San Francisco.

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   Mr. Gibbons also had worried at a woman going off by herself to live in a lonely cabin. He had tried to convince her that Payson had lovely cottages. “Why not one of those? If not those, there were places that would give you privacy heading east along the Tonto Rim. At least then, there’d be those passing by if you ran into trouble,” he’d said.   She had smiled and insisted she needed a more remote location and finally he had told her of this one. “Jared Smith had it built but his wife hated it.”   “It was poorly built?”   “Beautifully built, as pretty a cabin as I’ve seen, but it was so far from everyone else. Oh, an occasional miner might come through but otherwise, she felt she’d go insane being so alone. She tried. You can tell that by the shrubs she planted but it just wasn’t home to her.”   It had sounded perfect to Willy and she’d smiled and asked for lease papers.   “I will draw them up with an option to buy. That will ensure that you don’t have someone buying it out from under you.”   “Thank you. I didn’t know it was for sale.”   “It has been for someone with cash.” He had handed her the papers. “I hope you are notifying your family where you will be,” he’d said as she perused them before signing.    “My family is all gone on now, Mr. Gibbons.”   “Then friends.”   She had few, who would care, but she had written to her best female friend. Holly was the reason she had even known about Payson and these mountains. The two had gone to university together. They had lost touch, but when she had decided she needed this experience, needed to get completely away from San Francisco, she’d written of her father’s death, where she intended to be, and that she would be writing a book—she hoped. She had not shared the rest of why she needed to find this respite, this total break from all she had known. Perhaps if they met someday, she would explain the rest. Half of what she was feeling she couldn’t even explain to herself.   “Yes, I did. I trust that you won’t tell anyone where I am should anyone come asking,” she had said rising to leave his office.   “Of course not.” He’d huffed a little.   “If there becomes a problem where you feel I should know of it, please send a missive with Mr. Contrell who will be bringing me supplies twice a month.”   “I am relieved at least of his returns to check on you.”   “I am not a fool, Mr. Gibbons. There are reasons I need this level of privacy. Perhaps someday I can tell you more of them.” He’d nodded with a sigh.

Arizona Sunset excerpt

Arizona Sunset is the first book of what became the Arizona historical romance series. I wrote it in the early '90s but didn't do anything with it for twenty years. That might seem unusual to those who aren't writers, but if you are a writer, you write-- that does not mean you necessarily even want to publish. When I decided to become an indie writer, it was on the list of those I intended to bring out. I had no idea even then that it would be part of a series. 

It turns out the seventh in what I've called the Arizona historical romance series, will be out later in March. It is set in 1905 and carries on some of the earlier characters with new additions. Here is a snippet from a book that will always be dear to my heart for a host of reasons:

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     "It had its moments,” he said, nuzzling her neck. He needed a shave as usual at the end of the day. The bristle against her skin added to her excitement. She sighed.
        "Like with Lieutenant Gardiner?”
    She pushed off his hat as she ran her hands through his hair.
        He looked ruefully down at the hat on the floor. "You know how much that Stetson cost?”
       She heard the smile in his voice. "I'm sorry," she said. "Can I find any way to make it up to your hat?"
        "I doubt it."
        "I could pick it up and put it properly on its rack."
        He shook his head. "Not a good idea because to do that, I'd have to let you go, and I don't want to do that."
        She smiled, taking his hand into hers and nipping one finger. "You really had a good time?”
        “It had its moments,” he repeated, his eyes teasing.
        "Couldn't you see yourself living like that--like Ralph Reimer for instance?"
        "Maybe for some men that's all right, but for others it won’t work."
        "And which ones are you?"
        “Abby, quit trying to change what is. Life is how it is. Sometimes it’s too late to change.”
        "You can’t believe it is for you. You are a young man. You can change what you want. You have to know you cannot go on as you are.”
        “For awhile.”
        “And then what?”
    “There are no guarantees in life.”
        She felt the passion draining from her body. “Why did you marry me, Sam? What did you want?”
        “What do you think?”
        “If it had been just sex, you’d have taken me the first night. You could have. I couldn’t have stopped you.”
        "I don't rape women."
        "We both know it wouldn't have been rape, not then or now."
        "I did want you. Still do, but not if the terms are my pretending something I know isn’t so. I am who I am. Is that good enough for you or not?"
        “Are you saying you might want a life with me? A forever kind of life?”
        “If I did, would it change anything?”
        She couldn’t answer that. She had never thought she’d stay with Sam, never imagined a real life here. Or had she? “Well, whatever I want,” she said, “it wouldn’t be for much of a life if you go riding off all the time to rustle other men’s cattle. Someday you will get shot or caught and then what?"
        “I could go riding out in the hills here and have my horse fall and break my neck.”
        “It’s not the same.”
        “Isn’t it?”
        She felt angry and disappointed. She had hoped so much that things would change. She had told herself this was all for the moment. In her heart she had known from the beginning, from the time she had seen him in Tucson. She wanted more than she could ever have. It wasn’t to be. He didn’t want what she did. She felt so disappointed that tears welled up. She would not cry in front of him. She also couldn’t risk making a baby with a man who wouldn’t want forever with her. She wouldn’t leave herself a child to raise alone.
        “Good night, Sam.”
        She wished he would say something to stop her, would promise her things that could make it work, but he didn’t. He just let her go.
  

Desert Inferno excerpt

Excerpt from my one Arizona contemporary. There will be more coming probably in May. Shorter books than I've been writing. Desert Inferno  is set in Nogales and the desert. Jake is with Border Patrol and Rachel is a painter. Her ancestors were also in the Arizona Historical Romances.

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"Let it go, Rachel. Look, I don't get it.” The expression in his eyes hardened. “What's a woman, who looks like you, doing with a guy with a face like mine, a guy whose own mother couldn't stand him, who has a brother doing time? I’m not your kind of guy, Rachel O’Brian." She leaned forward, reaching out, lightly tracing his face with her fingertips, her fingers wreaking havoc with his resolve to keep everything casual between them. “How do you know what my kind of guy is?” she asked huskily, trying to keep her tone light and knowing she was failing."I am an ugly man, inside and out." Her fingers tipped his chin up and she looked into his eyes. "Obviously," she whispered, "we don't see your face the same way. Know what I see when I see you?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I see a strong face but with too much sadness. Your face is like the desert, craggy and rugged. The desert is not ugly but beautiful."Before he could respond, she pressed her fingers against his lips. "You’ve protected yourself all these years by not caring. You figured that worked.” She felt an almost unendurable surge of sadness to think of what Jake had said and not said about the little boy he’d been, the man he was. She wondered then why she knew so well who he was inside. She knew it better than he knew himself. She had no answer for why that might be true."It does work.""Does it?  Or has it only left a lonely boy inside a lonely man?"“People do what they have to do. I don’t want pity."She shook her head. "I don't pity you, but can't I feel sympathy for what you've been through?"“Are you a fixer upper? One of those women who goes around finding people who need somebody to redo them.”She laughed. “So you think I’d want to remodel you?”“You sure couldn’t want me as I am, but I don’t want remodeling. I am not here for any woman and that’s how it is.”“It’s how it has been.”“You don’t give up. Listen, I told you about my brother so you’d see this interest you think you have in me is not going to work.”"Because of your past? The past is just that—done and gone.""It colors today, tomorrow. You see your world in bright, shiny colors. You've grown up to be a princess, surrounded by luxury.""And what have you grown up to be, Jake?"He stared at her. “What are you getting at?”“Back to the start of all this conversation. Why did we meet?”His smile was faint. “I do a fair amount of interrogations, and that sounds like a trick question to me.”“Not really, but you said you’d never normally have been where you were that day. You didn’t have to decide you’d be the one to come out to the ranch. Don’t you ever think that some people are meant to meet? It’s fate. I won’t say why or even know, but there is more going on with human life than meets the eye.”“Babe, it’s all biology.”“I don’t think it is. I think with you and me there was something there that first day, and we both could have walked away from it. You would have.”“And why didn’t you?”“Because I hadn’t felt it before, that magnetic pull to get close to a man, to learn who they were, to follow the trail where it went with them. I wasn’t sure I ever would again if I walked away from what was possible.”“What is possible is a dead-end.”“I won’t deny that could be, but don’t you want to know—for sure? Some things aren’t logical. Feelings don’t always fit facts. Sometimes though they are strong enough to surmount what might seem insurmountable.”“You think that’s what this is?” “Jake, ours is a story that hasn’t yet been written. It could be by us.” Her smile was confident and so sexy that he felt as though the wind had been knocked from his lungs. "How would you write our story? If I am the princess, who are you?”“I wouldn’t write a story about us because there isn’t an us.” 

 

Love Waits excerpt from the fourth Oregon historical romance

My fourth Oregon historical romance involves a conspiracy, some spying and a volatile time in the history of the United States, being only a short time after the Civil War has ended. In Love Waits,  high level government officials and the military try to stop a rebellion before it gets started. The hero has been called to The Dalles to request he become involved in ferreting out the traitors. 

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“We can tell you this-- there is a Pinkerton on the job. And although we do not have an official spy agency, we have sent in a man who has proven competent in spying during the Civil War.”“Am I to know who either of these men are, and will I be expected to contact them?” Rand had already decided he would take the assignment, short of spying on Hardman. If he had a traitor in his unit, he needed to know it. He didn’t want another rebellion to lead to another war. With Belle working for Forester, he had a personal reason to do what he could to assure her safety. She presented a personal complication in stopping at the Hardman ranch. He didn’t want to have to hide his knowledge of her marriage and current abode. Maybe they already knew though. It’d been six months since he’d stopped by. He walked to the window staring out at the Columbia. “Yes, you will need to know who they are. And one more thing, Rand.”He turned back. “Your brother was befriended by Forester before he left San Francisco. I don’t know how involved he is with the cause. He had not been working for him that we knew, but Jason left The Dalles this morning on the stage for Canyon City.”Hellfire. He hadn’t seen his younger brother in years. Their father had found Rand to be a disappointment for reasons Rand never quite understood. Jason had continued to live with him. It didn’t make sense though that he would befriend someone like William Forester. For what purpose? “How loyal do you consider your father to be?” Williams asked watching his face.He turned to stare back at the Secretary. “He was a well decorated general before he retired. As far as I know has always served with honor. Why would you ask such a thing?”“Since his retirement, General Phillips has had some... friendships that have been regarded as questionable—one of which had been with Forester. I realize that alone doesn’t mean much. Often powerful men are attracted to each other.”Rand tried to think what he knew. He’d never heard the name William Forester before the man arrived in Canyon City. “Perhaps you know that I am not close to my family, but last I knew, my father was in Maryland.”“They were both in San Francisco up until last week. Our sources there lost connection with your father. It’s uncertain where he is now.”“He and Jason were together?” At one time, his father had been estranged from both his sons. Had that changed?“Yes, in San Francisco,” Williams said. “How they left there is a bit of a mystery. Jason left a clear trail north. Your father signed out of his hotel, and disappeared.”“No train or ship tickets?”“Nor renting a driver.”“Could he have died?” He should have cared more than he realized he did.“Although we don’t believe that to be the case, we don’t know. We need more information than we have and you seem to have the best chance to get that.” “Will you take the assignment, Captain?” Schaeffer added.Reluctantly, Rand nodded. “I don’t know how effective I can be though.”“We know the caliber of man you are, Captain. I am confident you will do your best,” Schaeffer said. “I have a dossier for you to study on Forester to learn what you can. Burn it when you finish. Take a few days here in town before you head out. You look exhausted.” “If any names stand out for you,” Williams added, “please file a report before you go. But from this time on, be careful how you contact us. Leave no clues that you are looking into this as it could be very dangerous for you-- at least until you know who not to trust at your back.”

a rough draft

Yesterday I finished the rough draft of Bound for the Hills. I had begun the book 1/4/16 and finished it February 9, which meant 36 days (if I don't count the weeks or months ahead of writing where I am thinking and researching). 

Since a few writing days I didn't write anything, some I wrote five thousand words, a few maybe only a thousand, I don't have an average number per day (and have no intention of ever keeping track of that. This is one of the first times I actually know when I started and ended a book). I write what I get and usually that is several scenes, but I like to have time between events to think what might happen next. I am both a plotter and a pantser. I know where it's going but how it gets there, I find out a lot along the way.

Whatever the word counts, it was a lot of hours, but I feel good about the book. Next comes editing and roughly I am guessing the book will be out in March but not figuring on a date until I do the first edit and know how many problems I have. I put off my edits at least a week, usually more, to get some distance. Anyway, this is a snippet from early in the book. Again, remember, it's a rough draft which means it might change.

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     Ironically, it had been her last year in high school when two events changed her life. A friend loaned her one of the popular dime novels. She had snickered through it, at the same time she was writing a thesis on Nathaniel Hawthorne’s Twice Told Tales. The praise for the book had come from the greats of Hawthorne’s own time, not the least of whom had been Longfellow, who stated the short stories and Hawthorne’s writing was “characterized by a large proportion of feminine elements, depth and tenderness of feeling, exceeding purity of mind.”      It was then that her mind had begun to spin with the possibility of merging the dime novel with the elements of classic plots and her own writing. She had to learn about guns and such, but she found them rather interesting anyway.
     A month later, she had sent off her first manuscript to one of the publishing houses, noted for the dime novels. A contract returned quickly, with an option for more. Was this her making or her downfall? In some ways, she thought, as she took another sip of sherry, it had been both. She had sold out the classics as she mined them for plots on which she spun a western tale.      When requests came for the mysterious author, Will Tremaine, to appear at book signings or to give lectures on the West, her editor, Matthew Jefferson, the only one who knew there was no Will Tremaine, brushed them off with various excuses. Having these lusty, sometimes brutal westerns written by a woman would never do was his reason. She had her own. 

excerpt from Desert Inferno

"At one time, I thought maybe you hoped there would be a more permanent merger with Mr. Ramirez. One involving me.""I’d be in hell before I’d let that happen," her father said coldly, "Diego may have hoped that. I can’t say. He’s an odd bird. I was glad you never wanted to be involved with him, but you are old enough to be finding someone, to think about marriage. I'd feel better if I knew you had a man if something ever happened to me." She looked at him again, aware of the strain in his voice."It's been that little problem of meeting the right person." She wasn't ready to talk about Jake. There were so many variables and uncertainties attached to him. Could they put their lives together? Add to it, she wanted to be sure of his intentions before she said anything."Sure you aren't looking for the perfect man?" he questioned with a grin. "You know there is no such animal, right?"Letting her voice deepen, she imitated his. "Men are no good, out for everything they can get and not to be trusted. Always assume they don't mean any of the promises they make. Be careful because they are beasts!"He laughed. "Now I didn’t put it quite that way, but you do have to be careful. There are a lot of men out there who do not have honorable intentions toward beautiful young women.""Sometimes women aren't honorable toward men either.""That's the warning fathers give to sons." He smiled. "Get out more, princess. An apartment in town is a good idea. Or maybe even in Tucson, just to meet more people. Go to the right places where you can meet a nice guy, one like Mark Sandoval, a guy who wears a suit, comes home on time for dinner. You won't find a man like that out in these hills."Rachel smiled, thinking how little Jake would fit her father's criteria for a husband. Remembering Jake's childhood, with no parental love, she felt a renewed surge of gratitude for the stability and love her father had provided especially after her mother died. "I love you," she whispered, moving over to kiss his bristly cheek."I love you too, honey. You know I just want you to be happy.""Hey, you should take some of your own advice; find a woman to be with, to marry."He laughed with disbelief. "That's different. I'm an old man.""Hah," she snorted, remembering the power of his body as he hugged her.He started to leave, but then turned back. "Hear anything more about the man who died out here?""No. Why?""Nothing. I just wondered. I'll leave you to your work. See you at dinner."