Rain Trueax's Blog, page 9

Desert Inferno excerpt

Writers choose heroes who interest them for assorted reasons. I liked Desert Inferno's because he wasn't traditional for romance heroes. I set him into a contemporary action romance and his heroine descended from a pioneer family in the region-- where I'd also written some of their stories starting from 1883. Fun to write series stories. I don't know if I'll ever connect the families with the generations between, but it's always possible. America has certainly gone through enough turbulent times to make that possible.


Desert Inferno, which I wrote in the 1990s, is as pertinent today for the border issues as it was when I wrote it. Some things don't seem to change much. When I decided to bring it out in 2011, I did have to change a few things, if I wanted it to be today. It also has a little harder language than some of my books although soft for today's contemporary romances.

~~~

As Jake entered the swamp-cooled bar, the air was almost as hot inside as out. The humid air hung as heavily as the cigarette smoke. Mac, elbows leaning on the bar, looked up and recognized Jake. "Howyadoin'?" he asked, grinning as he whipped a glass from the shelf and filled it with cold beer from the tap.
"Don't ask," Jake responded.  Loosening the buttons of his shirt, he leaned back against the bar, turning to let the air from the fan blow across his chest, drying the sweat on his body and offering the only cooling, short of a cold shower, he could expect from the night.  At home he had only a small fan to circulate the air.
“Mac, this place is like an inferno. When you going to turn on the air conditioning?”Mac’s face took on an aggrieved look. “Hey that stuff costs money. It’s not that bad-- yet.”Krista Bernard walked boldly up to the bar. She smiled up as she sidled her rounded, jeans-clad hips nearly to touch his thigh. "Buy a lady a beer?"Jake looked around the room. "There one here?" he asked with a faint smile, not surprised when Krista slapped his arm.Mac brought Krista a beer as Jake reached into his pocket and brought out the fresh pack of cigarettes he'd purchased on his way back to the office."Thought you quit," Mac chided with a shake of his head.Jake lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. "I did.""How many times that make?""I don’t count."“One of these days they’ll make me turn this place smoke free. That talk is spreading.”“When it does, you’ll lose business.”"Have a hard day, big guy?" Krista asked, fluffing her straw blond hair.Ignoring the question, Jake exhaled the smoke."I heard a kind of unusual body was found down south. You in on that?" Mac gave the bar a cursory wipe with his cloth."What’s your source?" Jake asked. He should have been surprised at how fast Mac knew what was going on, but it had long since ceased to amaze him."Tony."Jake took another long drag on his cigarette and felt himself begin to unwind for the first time in what seemed days. “The county’s out checking the site.”"Tony said it was a broad found the body."Jake snorted. "That’s the part got your interest?”“I like the ladies. So’s that a crime?" “Well Tony was wrong for once. She was no broad.”"What other kind is there?" asked Mac grinning. To him, all women were broads."No category for this one. Where do you file spoiled, beautiful, rich girls?" Jake asked taking a swig of his beer."How do you know all that? Look her up, Jake?" asked Krista."Didn’t need to. It was written on her tight, little ass.""You did some looking then?" Mac asked with a chuckle."I’m human." Shaking his head, he thought how hard he had tried to avoid looking as he finished the beer in a gulp and ordered another."So, the babe was a looker?" Mac probed for more details, hopefully salacious ones. The picture over the bar was one of the sexier ones of Angelina Jolie. It wasn’t there for the customers.Jake surveyed the room casually, noting two men and a woman at one table and a couple at the back booth. He shrugged off Krista's hand, as she tried to pull him to a table.  "Not hanging around tonight, kid," he said, shaking his head. "Got a killer headache. It’s been a long day. I'm going home to bed.""That's what you always say," she complained. "When are you and me going to have some fun?"  Her large lavender eyes were luminous and demanding as she pulled on his arm."Maybe when I’m in the mood for fun," Jake said tersely, stubbing out his cigarette. "Except you never are," she complained.Jake looked down at her thoughtfully. The lines and hardness in Krista's eyes told him her life had been anything but easy. She was older than him-- by how many years he could only guess. He knew of at least one husband, but the rest of her life was as closed a book to him as his to her. He shook his head. "I told you before, Krista. Find yourself a boyfriend. That's what you need--a guy who'll be there for you.""Not you?" she asked with a tight smile.Jake shook his head. "The last thing I want in my life is a woman--any woman.""Not even the one from today," she snapped, angrily, the lines deepening around her mouth."Like that’s an option.""You’re right. No guy who looks like you'd have a chance with a rich bitch." Her laughter at her own joke was loud and piercing.Jake didn’t look at her, not surprised at how quickly she had gone from teasing and flirting to taunting. It wasn’t the insult that got to him. It was the vagaries of the female mind. One minute they're coming on to you like you're catnip--the next, spitting venom like a rattlesnake.Krista smile turned to a frown. "Lordy, Jake, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that.""A woman never does," Jake said. It was not like he cared. He didn't need complications in his life; and from what he'd seen of relationships between the sexes, they were always complicated.  His rule had been to keep the connection under the sheets and never see any of them in the cold light of day. A woman he ran into regularly, like Krista, didn’t qualify—even if he had found her sexually appealing, which he didn’t.Jake reached into his wallet to pay for his and Krista's drinks."You think that guy was murdered?" asked Mac as he took the bills."Didn’t Tony already tell you?""Just that there was something odd about it."Jake shrugged.  "It’s a county problem so far as I can see.""They doing an autopsy?"Jake nodded, not volunteering anything. Toxicology would tell them if the man had been under the influence of a drug. It might explain the odd behavior. It wouldn’t explain the marks of torture on his body. 

Moon Dust and a new cover

One of the aspects to publishing your own books is the need to come up with covers that depict the story in a way that will entice a reader to look at the sample and then buy the book. I've tried quite a few different images for Moon Dust with nothing quite saying all I wanted.

The book is complicated because it's about a marriage on the rocks as well as about sexual abuse and its adult ramifications. The hero is a high school principal who is dealing with militia driven youth gangs. I labeled it romantic suspense but it is also emotional suspense. It's not hard to see why romance readers turn their noses up at it. Many are looking for a relaxing read. Although I believe Moon Dust is a positive book, it does deal with difficult subjects. 

Recently I came across an image that inspired me to try a new cover for it. Don't ask me how many this book has had. The new one depicts the conflicted emotions of the hero and heroine, and it's set in the new apartment the heroine has acquired. She is looking to recreate herself after she opts to leave her marriage-- even though she still loves her husband. 

I went looking through CanStock for an apartment and found the perfect one for my interior decorator heroine. Unfortunately, I couldn't use the whole image as book covers are vertical, but I wanted to share it here as I think it'd be great for a downtown apartment, which is where she moved when she left her husband. It says a lot about the new her.


I have always had two sides to me. One would love a very modernistic room like this one. The other wants a rustic cabin in the mountains. While I'd love an apartment in downtown Portland where I'd look out at the lights of the city and see Mt. Hood in the distance, I also love my country life, where we raise livestock.

This is the new cover with an attempt to show the conflict and love between these two people who will have to not only fight for their marriage but also for survival.


 As part of reintroducing the book, I also created a new video for it on YouTube. I do trailers for all my books. Sometimes, as I get a better way of showing the book, the trailer needs a redo also-- Moon Dust Trailer.

excerpt from Moon Dust

From Moon Dust where the heroine is thinking back on the family's Thanksgiving dinner after she announced she and her husband were getting a divorce. She's home now and thinking about how the day had gone. Although I've not had a divorce, at her age, I did have a family that was not so different from Susan's. When a couple decide to separate, it impacts their family, friends, and community.

~~~


With a sigh of relief, Susan sunk into the large, white chair in her living room and stared at the lights of the city strung out far below. Thanksgiving with her large family had been for the most part enjoyable, delicious and tiring. Everyone wanted to know about her separation from Dane, to ask questions about what he had done to make her leave him. Half of her family had approached her at one time or another to try to either change her mind or get the full scoop on what had really happened, but since she'd been expecting that, it had been tolerable. Kicking off high heels, Susan rubbed her feet as she thought back on her conversation with Sarah. Big sister Sarah, who always wanted to take care of Susan's hurts, had wasted little time in zeroing in on this issue and putting pressure on her not to get a divorce. "But how could you just leave him?" Sarah's large blue eyes had been intent on Susan, her plump body effectively blocking flight from the family room. "Don't you know divorce is a sin, Susan?""Sarah," Susan had tried to explain, "you aren't going to understand any of this. You've got a marvelous husband and three bright kids. With a life as full as yours, how could you possibly understand the barrenness of what Dane and I had?" "Barrenness? What kind of word is that? Are you reading those wacky psychology books, Susan, is that how you got this wild idea from that psychologist pal of yours? That stuff is garbage."Susan had felt stymied, how could she explain any of this to her down-to-earth sister, who seemed satisfied with so little in life.          Knowing it was useless, Susan had tried. "How can I continue to live with a man who doesn't love me? Who closes me out of his life? Who won't share anything with me? I mean, get serious, could you live that way?" "Frankly, Susan, most men are not so good at sharing their feelings as women are, Do you think Jack tells me when he's hurt or feeling down? I just have to be understanding, not demand too much."   "But what if that wasn't enough for you?" Susan had been determined somehow to make Sarah understand. "What if you want a man to tell you how he feels, and you don't want it to take a gun to make him do it. For that matter, with Dane, I'm not sure that even at the point of death, he'd admit to being frightened or in doubt."  "So then that's just his way!"  "But it's not mine!" Both their voices had risen with their frustration level.  "Susan, divorce is wrong."  "Maybe so, but sometimes so is marriage."  "But you were joined by God. You can't divorce him."“I was joined by a contract, a piece of legal paper, and the same thing can end the marriage." Susan had walked to the large bay window, to stare out at the sheep and cows grazing in the pasture below the big, old farm house. Sarah had followed, and the two sisters, so alike and so different, stared from the window. "Dane is such a nice guy... And something else. He does love you. I'm sure of it." "Sarah, you’ve chosen the way you want to live your life. Can’t you give me the freedom to do the same?  I have to do what I believe is right just as you did."Sarah's voice had lowered to little more than a whisper. "Was the problem in bed?"Susan had laughed. "No! It was not in bed. Listen, this is something I'm not going to argue about. I know you've always thought you know what's best for me, but you have to let go of this. I'm not a kid in school. I'm a woman, twenty-eight years old, who knows exactly what she wants." Or did she I? But that had not been the time to admit that to Sarah. "Don't you love Dane?" Sarah had wailed. "I don't think that's the issue." "But do you still love him?" Susan had thought for a moment, not wanting to tell her sister, wishing she could bring herself to lie because it would be so much simpler. She had looked across at Sarah and said, "I do, but sometimes love isn't enough." Sarah had obviously been unable to fathom her sister's thinking. For a moment, Susan had been certain she would walk out of the room without another word, but she had reached out instead and drawn Susan into her arms. "I think you're wrong, but you're my sister and I love you." And so the two had a good cry before they returned to the others, who had peeked their heads in to see there was an argument, but had stayed away to let them settle it.           As Susan stared out into the black night of the city, lights twinkling to remind her other people existed, she wondered, not for the first time, where Dane had spent Thanksgiving. She looked through the darkness in the direction of their neighborhood and saw the twinkling of the first Christmas lights. 

Moon Dust is a contemporary romance set in Portland Oregon. It deals with some tough subjects including the ramification of sexual abuse on adults and our education system as well as divorce as a solution-- or is it.

Holiday novella

Last week I watched the first of the Hallmark Christmas movies. I don't watch them all week, just the new ones on Saturday and Sunday. I discovered them last year and find them simple, require nothing from me, and usually have a good life moral.

For me a Christmas movie or book has to have certain qualities. I started to watch one on the 14th and could not stand its premise, which was of a heroine who was an habitual liar, using her lies to avoid problems and get ahead. A wish made it impossible for to tell a lie and led to complications. Frankly, I couldn't stand her. I left the story before it got to where she was forced to stop telling the lies. I know this premise for a film had been used before. I didn't care for it then either.

On the other hand, I liked the one on the 15th-- Christmas Incorporated. It had a charming heroine and hero, just enough plot, and lots of Christmas. Did I mention the hero was hot? I can see that actor, Steve Lund, having a bigger career as some other stars from Hallmark have.


I've had the holidays in a few of my books, but never at the center of their plots. I did that with the novella, A Montana Christmas , which takes forward a few years the ranch family in From Here to There. Rather than a romance as such, this is more a slice of life story. It has all the characters from FHtoT as well as some additions. (Writing it also suggested a future story for the family, involving an older couple, which I have yet to write because this was the year of historic romances but next year, it's in the plan.)  

Snippet from A Montana Christmas:

~~~


When Helene heard the truck outside, she went to the door to open it for her smiling uncle and Curly as they stamped the snow from their boots.“How’d it go?” she asked at the two, who were grinning as though they had been up to something.“What part?” Curly asked winking at Rafe.“The doctor part, of course.”“Oh that,” her uncle said pouring himself a cup of coffee and ignoring her frown. “Doc let me go. Looks like I’ll live to be eighty after all—if I don’t ride with Curly driving again that is.”“Dangnabit, I did not take the corner that fast,” Curly grouched as he took a big sip of the coffee with a satisfied smirk.“What else were you up to in town then?” she asked not ignoring the original grins she had seen.“Little shopping is all and don’t ask for what,” Uncle Amos said. “Tis the season and all that.”“Speaking of seasons,” she said, “with Christmas just three weeks off, I was thinking we should make some plans.”“More than the usual with Nancy, Emile and the boys?” her uncle asked.“I was thinking yes… Phillip will be here, I hope. I’d like to have the dinner up at our house. How would that be?”Amos shrugged. “Never no mind to me if it don’t matter to Emile and them.”“I invited too?” Curly asked.“Of course, and a girlfriend if you wish.”Curly snorted as he leaned back against the counter, crossing one boot over the other. “Women are too danged much trouble. Not gonna mess with one again. I’m too old anyway.”Now it was Helene’s turn to snort. “You are still a handsome man, Curly, and you know it. What happened with Sherri?”Amos was the one to laugh that time. “She found out about Jan and that was pretty much it for both of them.”“Good riddance to both. Women just wanta own a man.”“Maybe you haven’t found the right one yet,” Helene suggested.“He’s been married three times. Maybe he’s right to give it a rest.”Obviously to divert that direction for the conversation, Curly asked, “What you going to cook, Helene, not that I’d be picky or anything.”“Just traditional fare.”“So long as that means turkey, dressing, cranberries, mashed potatoes and lots of gravy,” her uncle said with a grin. “I got no complaints. But what’s this planning business about. Throw a spread, open some presents, isn’t that about it? What’s to plan for?”“There are the numbers. I’ll call Nancy to be sure they can come.” She glanced at Rafe who had said nothing. “You will come also, won’t you?”“Where else would I go?” he said with a grimace as he shifted positions and manned up to another sip of the potent coffee.“If no one minds, I’d like to include a few others. One or two that might have to sleep down here.”Uncle Amos frowned. “My sister coming?”“Heavens no.” She laughed. “Mother is in Palm Springs with her bridge buddies, and Dad is off with Sharron to wherever it is she convinced him to take her this year. No, not them. I’d like to ask Phillip’s mother, sisters and brother.”Curly choked on a swallow of coffee. When he got his voice back, he asked, “Phil okay that?” His look said he doubted it. 

 Available at various sell sites: A Montana Christmas links

secondary characters

In my writing, secondary characters are as important or almost anyway as the main protagonists. I love it when one shows up and proves to enrich every scene they're in. It's like a gift as those rich secondary characters give more dimensions to the hero and heroine.

I had one of those briefly in Arizona Dawn. He was an itinerant prospector who the hero, Rafe, didn't trust one bit. When he showed up a few years later in Lands of Fire, I was happy to finally get to know him better. I thought he'd be good for enriching the reader's understanding of the hero, but he proved better than I imagined and on multiple levels. Here's the scene when Jesse met him for the first time.

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

   Lighting a cigarette, he didn’t bother with a lantern. A waxing moon was high enough in the sky to light the desert with a soft glow. Something rustled the rabbitbrush to Jesse’s right. Far in the distance, he heard the howl of a coyote and another answered from not far beyond his shed.    Until Jesse had come, this place had been theirs. Now, with him living in the adobe, putting a door back on it, his work on the corral, and increasing the size of the livestock lean-to, they had been pushed back. They didn’t like it. He didn’t blame them.    Bear growled. “Shhh boy,” he said, “I hear it.” He reached for his revolver on the barrel behind him. He never was far from a gun.    “You got any food, señor?” a man’s voice asked from the shadows.   Jesse rose. “Come closer where I can see you.”   “Your dog looks mean.” The voice was old.   “He is. So mind your business. Come out where the moonlight hits you.” A bearded old man, wearing a poncho walked slowly forward.    “Don’t hurt me, compadre.”   “Who are you?”   “Jose. I was gathering saguaro fruit. I got lost.”   The gathering part was possible—the accent not so much. “You have family nearby?”   “I do. They will be looking for me.”   “Jose, you are a liar.”   The old man edged closer as he nervously watched Bear. “He’s big. He bite?” he asked.   “Not if you stay where you are.” Jesse edged back in the adobe and brought out a lantern, which he set on the table and lit. “Come up here now and let me get a look at you.”   The old man came forward. “I did lie, but not about being hungry.”   “Why are you out here then? This is not near any villages. You have no horse.”   “I had a burro. She got away from me. You see her?”   Jesse smiled. “You really are a liar, aren’t you? And a poor one. What’s your real name? You aren’t Spanish, not with that accent, and don’t look Indian.”   When the man smiled, he revealed a mouth with few teeth. “What you doing out here, son?”   “Me first.” 

Lands of Fire book trailer

From the time I learned book trailers were possible, I've made one for all my books. I am not convinced they are a sale's device, but they are fun to make, require me to think about the essence of the story, and are a challenge. I think I have mentioned I am also an amateur photographer, painter and sculptor. It's not hard to see how images are something I enjoy bringing to my books. 

Below is the one for Lands of Fire, which should be out November 5th although with Amazon, when you don't do a pre-release, exact times are iffy. 

In 1902, Jesse Taggert was considered to be slow-witted which is the word I use for him in the trailer. That does not mean stupid. He had abilities and ways of seeing things that someone who 'thinks faster' might not have. The movie Forrest Gump, which I saw for the first time after I'd written Lands of Fire, illustrated how someone can be slow in one way but in other ways, see more deeply than someone who maybe thinks too fast. Jesse is not the usual hero for romance novels, but he's every bit the hero in all the ways that count. 

The music for this trailer is something I found on JewelBeat. For me, it perfectly suits this story, which is western and set in Arizona's Sonoran Desert. This is a land that is beautiful, rugged and never simple.


Available in eBook and paperback November 5, 2015 and the links will be here when the book is out.

character lists

Ever wonder how historical series writers keep it all lined up? Character lists provide help for those of us without amazing logistical skills where tons of facts can be instantly attained at a moment of need. Character lists are helpful even when there is only one book. 

Once in awhile I have even given my hero and heroine a birth month based on the characteristics portrayed and which astrology sign makes that most likely. For those of you with no interest or knowledge of astrology, you might be surprised how often the time when one is born can tell a lot about natural traits. The reason for that is not clear to me, but just I have often seen it to be so. Do not confuse a birth chart with horoscopes.

Below is an example of one from my Arizona historical character lists. It has been added onto as books were written and characters added. When I start writing any book, I add in the new characters and their births-- maybe even deaths of some older people-- death is part of life unwilling as we are to see it come to those we love. 

I have had some reservations about sharing with readers these character lists mainly because if a reader hasn't read the books, the list gives away what will happen. Of course, romance readers already know a HEA is guaranteed. For those of you who don't read my books, this is mostly to give you an idea of what you can do if you ever decide to write stories that follow a family through many years. As the little image says, these books go from 1883 to 1906 or will go to 1906 when the last one is out.

On this list, some of these characters never became more than secondary ones but when putting together a character list, it's better to add them in case somewhere down the line, they get their own book. It happens. I do a second such list that has the basics of each major character in any book I am writing. This doesn't require birth dates but personalities and interactions. Some call this kind of information the bible as such are done for screen plays.


CHARACTER LIST FOR ARIZONA HISTORICALS

1837          Charles Provo (exact date and place uncertain)
1838          Jeremiah Taggert b. Illinois; James Redman b. Iowa1839          -1840                Rose Jarred b. Missouri1841                --1842                --1843               Roman Alexander Oliver b. Kansas1844                Raul Cordova b. Mexico1845                Robert Mitchell b. New York1846                –1847                Delbert Sicilla b. West Virginia1848                –1849                Maria Jacinta b. Mexico1850                Constance Banyon b. Maryland1851                Wei Song b. California1852                Samuel Ryker (O’Brian) b. Kansas1853                --1854                Cordell O’Brian b. Kansas1855                Joseph Coburn b. Missouri1856                ---1857                James Redman m. Rose Jarrod Missouri; Clint Adams b. Nebraska1858                Abigail Spenser b. Illinois1859                --1860                Vincent Coburn b. Kansas; Frances Johnson (Oliver) b. Kansas1861                Priscilla Wesley b. Georgia1862                --1863                Ellen Buchanan b. Texas1864                --1865                --1866                Asa Taggert b. Utah; Rafael Cordova b. Mexico1867                Cole Taggert b. Utah1868                Jesse Taggert b. Utah1869                Juan Cordova b. Mexico m. Josita; 1870                Raquel Cordova b. Mexico  d. 18691871                –1872                James Angus b. Illinois 1873                Felipe Valencia b. Arizona1874                Clint Madison b. Illinois1875                Eliza Wallace b. California1876                Gabriel Cordova b. Arizona; Holly Jacobs b. Illinois1877                Grace O’Brian b. Kansas1878                Anita Cordova b. Arizona1879                Alexa Johnson (Oliver) b. Kansas; Lily Jacobs b. Illinois1880                Wei Zian b. Arizona1881                –1882                Sam & Abigail meet June and m. June and Nov. Tombstone1883                –1884                David Ryker b. Circle R Ranch1885                Priscilla & Cord talk; Grace arrives in Tucson1886                cabin—Jan; earthquake May 3; marriage—July1887                Alice Ryker b. Circle R Ranch1888                Jesse O’Brian b. Circle O Ranch; Raquel Valencia b. Tucson1889                Daniel Cordova b. Circle O Ranch Jan.1890                Ellen m. Robert Mitchell; Jose Valencia b. Tucson1891                Alica O’Brian b. August Circle O1892                Roberto Cordova b. December Tucson1893                Grace leaves for back East; Royce Johnson (Oliver) b. Kansas1894                –1895                James Redman dies Feb. Tucson; James O’Brian b. Circle O, July1896                –1897                Rafe Joins Rough Riders; Margarita Valencia b. Tucson1898                Rafe mustered out Feb. 15; Grace returns to Tucson June; Marries Rafe Sept.1899                Donovan Cordova b. November Tucson on the Cordova Ranch; Rose Redman m.Roman Oliver. Tucson 1900               Holly Jacobs meets Vince Coburn in April – marries in July.1901                Jesse marries Lily1902                Tyler Taggert b. March- son of Vincent: Joshua Taggert b. April- son of Jesse1903        -1904        -1905        -

from Diablo Canyon

The cover is new. It represents one couple, who continue through the book, first as hero and heroine and then as secondary characters in the next two romances.  Diablo Canyon, which began with a dream, became one novella and then three, has been one of my more interesting writing experiences. Its writing brought together fantasy, metaphysics, science, ranch life, and the very human emotion of falling in love. 

When writing a fantasy, the one rule is the book must stay true to the world it created but otherwise-- anything goes. Because in Diablo Canyon, spirit guides and even monsters got their own points of view, it may have led to some reader confusion, which might be more difficult for readers not familiar with paranormal thinking.   The spirit guides take on a point of views in the three stories, as they struggle with fulfilling their goals. They operate (sometimes with frustration) through the small, still voice of wisdom. Only a rare human can directly see or talk to them. 

I believe I have a muse (what I call him) but can't say I've heard him arguing with anybody but me-- and a lot of what I believe to be his inspiration is through dreams, coincidences, or my subconscious (and I can pay attention or not). Having this inner voice doesn't block me from seeing the physical reality around me-- nor does he order me to do things. 

My muse or someone like him has been with me all my life. As a small child, I saw him as a playmate. My talking about what the two of us did and that he had a name worried my parents and eventually I quit seeing him. I don't think he left... although might we have different ones at different points in our lives? Regarding this, I don't know-- except in Diablo Canyon, where it was my choice-- the guide job is a lifetime commitment-- and sometimes a frustrating one.

Diablo Canyon involves the paranormal, ranch life, Montana, some unscrupulous humans, and oh yeah, a different love story for each of the three parts (or novellas depending on how someone bought them)-- the last with a rather unusual heroine.  

This is the only story/stories my partner and I published with an option. (When Fates Conspire, The Dark of the Moon, and Storm in the Canyon are offered as novellas without the spice (sensual but all descriptions stop there). Diablo Canyon, with all three parts, has the kind of heat readers can expect in my books-- ♥♥♥♥). This snippet is from the second part-- The Dark of the Moon.



     “What are you two doing here?” Racine asked-- not that she wasn’t grateful.     “Curiosity,” Remus responded and then looked toward the horseman who had now stopped and was watching them.     “Who are you?” Pace asked his gaze moving from one to the other.     Racine didn't like that one bit. It was disturbing. He saw them and believed he could talk to them. That was not how it was supposed to be.      “The bigger question,” Justus said, “is who are you that you see us?”     “And can talk to us?” Racine added, trying not to sound annoyed and knowing she probably failed.      “Well, you aren’t exactly keeping yourselves secret, now are you?” Pace hooked his knee over the horn of the saddle and lit a cigarette. “What are your names?”     They told him. “Generally we are unseen,” Remus added with a bemused expression.  “It’s not often we run across a human who is aware of the third dimension.”     Pace smoked. “I didn’t ask for it.”      “Heritage then?”        He nodded. “It can be inconvenient.”       “Get you institutionalized if you aren’t careful,” Justus agreed with a laugh.      “So I’ve been told. You already know who I am. Now I want to know why you are here. Not on Aganes’ side, that much is obvious.”        “You know the demon's name?” Justus now sounded more surprised than disturbed.        “I’ve met up with him before in my… uh work.”      “Cole hired you for the job,” Remus said. “We heard that much. He didn’t know all about you though did he? Not all about you.”      Pace shrugged. “He could have. He and I have not actually met. He hired me through the investigative agency where I work. Dirk Langston runs it. The thing is, Cole wouldn’t have hired our agency if he hadn’t wanted something more than the usual.”      “Why would Cole want that that?”        “At the moment, I can only guess,” he said with a smile.       “How much does Myra know?” Racine asked, feeling increasingly troubled by this whole conversation. Humans should only be able to see spirits when they died. Pace seemed very much alive. Was he a warlock or sorcerer.      “Neither,” he said, as if he’d heard the question she knew she hadn’t voiced.      “Your buddy was right. I inherited it. It came down through the men in my family. When I was small, my father taught me not to fear what I was seeing but then added don’t let others know—at least not until you can trust them.” He drew deeply on the cigarette.     “So it was a gift,” Remus suggested.     Pace’s laugh held no humor. “It is what it is-- as I have observed a lot with life. The question I have is what are the two of you doing here? I’ve seen the little beauty there around.” He gestured toward Racine. “You two are new.”     “How much do you really know of the other side?” Remus asked.     “No more than I have to..."
 

Excerpt from 'Lands of Fire' due out November 5th

My Arizona historical series grew from its first book, Arizona Sunset. I knew with it that I had a second with Tucson Moon but had no idea there would end up being seven-- if that's all there will be. Although they have continuing secondary characters (who might have been hero or heroine in earlier or future books), each book stands alone.  

Echoes from the Past introduced three brothers. The youngest of these gets his own romance November 5th in Lands of Fire-- Book 6 Arizona Historicals: The Taggerts. This is not just a love story of two people but also of the Southwest and its beautiful desert. 

The following is a snippet, with one more edit still due; so this might change some by the time it comes out.

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    “You have a gift with horses, I hear,” she said trying to find something to say that didn’t leave her feeling like a fool. That wasn’t it.    “Maybe,” he said. He was looking down at her. Being so close to him made her even more aware of how very tall he was. She’d never been near a man that height. It was a bit intimidating.    “You think you can teach me to ride?” That was another dumb comment. She was furious with herself for having lost her wits.    “If you want.”    “I should want.” Again, she was annoyed at what she was saying. Of course, how could she instead say he was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen, and would he pose for a painting?    “Ma’am, the horse will react to what you feel.”    “Oh, you mean if I don’t want to ride him, he will sense it?”    He nodded. “They feel you. You need to feel him too. Then it will work.”    “How do I do that?”    “Come.” He turned and led her back down to the corral. Jethro had come to the rails as soon as he saw him. Jesse reached out and stroked his forehead. Or she guessed they called it that.    Jesse turned back to her. “Put out your hand.”    “He won’t bite me?”His smile softened as he shook his head. She didn’t know why she knew she could trust him, but she did. She held out her hand and let the soft nose of the horse sniff of it.    “Good,” Jesse said. “Now pet him gently.”    She liked the feel of the horse’s face. He seemed not to mind her touch. “I thought he might be as afraid of me as I am of him.”    “That’s why you let him sniff of you. He knows you don’t mean bad by him.”    “They can tell?”    “More than most humans.”    She looked up at him. His smile was a little crooked, faint as before, but it seemed warm. He liked being with the horse. She felt their joined energy. It was beautiful.    “I might as well tell you now, ma’am,” he said. She stopped petting Jethro. “What?”    “I am dumb. You will figure it out sooner or later. I do better with horses than people.”    “But you can talk.”    “Stupid.”    She remembered then what Holly had told her. ‘Jesse is... slow in how he thinks.’ So, he saw that as stupid. “You don’t seem stupid to me,” she said.    “Not yet, but I will.”    “Why?” She could not believe any of this, not after seeing him with the horse, and then looking up into his eyes. They were intelligent and seemed to speak without words.    “I can’t reason, lady, not like you.” He shut his mouth, and she saw the muscle jump in his cheek. He was clenching his jaw. Clearly, he hadn’t wanted to say what he had. Why had he?”    He smiled then. “Because we will be working together on the... horse.”    “You read minds?” She smiled then. Feeling finally relaxed, she reached out again to pat Jethro’s nose.    “Sometimes.”

And then it gets complicated

 David Bannister is known for being slick and good at his work as an investigative agent. He's come to Portland, gotten undercover, ended up very uncovered and begins to have his life threatened. What's going on? This piece is from Bannister's Way-- contemporary adventure romance set in Oregon with some secondary characters from an earlier romance. Did I mention he has an ex-wife? *s*


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     On one of the dark narrow lanes, he became aware of a car coming up fast behind him. He looked in the mirror, trying to assess the make of the vehicle, but its headlights were on bright and nearly blinded him. Veering to the right, he angled as far as possible to the edge of the road, leaving more than adequate room for the vehicle to pass. Too late he realized it had no intention of passing.   With the powerful vehicle coming straight for the rear of his motorbike, he swerved sharply and felt his front wheel leave the edge of the road. For a moment he thought he had control, and then the bumper of the larger vehicle tapped his rear fender, and all control was gone.     His only thought, as the bike went over, was to roll off the pavement and away from the bike. If he landed on the roadway, whoever had hit him could too easily back and finish the job. Landing hard on one shoulder, he pitched into a somersault that left him winded and flat on his back.     He levered himself up, looking for the car. All he saw were disappearing rear lights. His motorcycle was lying at a sad angle on the low bank of the road.Son of a bitch, he thought, still feeling the shock of the fall and scarcely able to believe it had happened. Was it a careless driver or had someone just tried to kill him? Shakily he got to his feet and walked to his bike. With the rear fender pushed into the wheel and broken spokes, he wasn't going to be riding it anyplace soon.     Rubbing his arm, he debated if he had pulled a ligament or something more serious. His shoulder hurt and reaching up, he found a bleeding abrasion where the shirt had ripped. Still shaking, he took longer than usual to unfasten his helmet and secure it to the damaged bike. That helmet had probably saved his life or at the very least stood between him and another ugly head injury.     Forests on all sides of him, the nearest house at least a block away. He wished his role here hadn’t proscribed no cell phone and tried to think how far back Bonie's house might be, but he couldn't even remember the roads he'd taken down the hill, let alone had any hope of making it back up them.     When he began to walk, he discovered he'd twisted his left ankle. Limping, he smiled grimly at his realization that this was the perfect ending to an already tough day--painfully walking in the dark, on a road he didn't know, heading for no place. The story of his life. What kind of a life was that?