Kristin Holt's Blog, page 40
October 5, 2014
Home for Christmas has a new cover!
Holidays in Mountain Home, Book 1
Each book in this series stands alone and may be read in any order.
Holidays in Mountain Home, Book 2
Each book in this series stands alone and may be read in any order.
October 2, 2014
New Release $0.99 (price increases on 10-6)
~ NEW RELEASE ~
MAYBE THIS CHRISTMAS
A Sweet Historical Western Holiday Romance Novella (Rated PG)
Low Introductory Price $0.99 good through Sunday, October 5th.
September 23, 2014
Opening Scene: sneak peek of new release…coming in 8 days!
Copyright © 2014 Kristin Holt, LC
MAYBE THIS CHRISTMAS
opening scene
~ sneak peek ~
Sometimes even an old-fashioned courtship needs a deadline.
December, 1899
Mountain Home, Colorado
On December first, Effie’s dreaded day of reckoning arrived.
She’d known it would, eventually. She’d savored every last day of freedom. Two years, three months, and twenty-one days.
She’d run as fast and as far as she’d known how. More than two thousand miles. It hadn’t been far enough.
Late afternoon sunlight cast elongated shadows on the street beyond her shop window. Cold, gray shades of winter. In her nightmares, this scene consistently played out against brilliant colors of autumn.
He stood on the far side of the street, less than thirty feet away. With feet braced wide and fists upon narrow hips, his open coat displayed a federal badge.
She hadn’t seen him in five years. Dark curls hung longer than in her memory. Yet she’d know him anywhere.
An icy river flowed sluggish in her veins.
August Rose, United States Marshal.
Hunter Kendall stood at her shop’s counter, admiring each piece of the infant layette he’d come for. “You outdid yourself this time, Mrs. O’Leary. Beautiful work. Miranda will be so pleased.”
Effie tried to pull her panicked attention from Gus and focus on her patron. She blinked rapidly. Hunter Kendall was more than a client—he and his wife, Miranda, were her friends. Good friends who knew nothing of her crimes. She wished to God it were possible to bury her soiled past so deep no one in Mountain Home would hear of it.
There was no chance of that now.
Hunter refolded a baby gown made of the finest cotton. “Miranda’s anxious for the little one to come.”
He seemed to want a response, so Effie made a sympathetic sound. Her throat had constricted, her thoughts scattered to the four winds. She could do no better.
“We’re staying at the Finlays’ through New Year’s, maybe longer.”
Of course she’d want to be with her mother, though her own home was a scant mile away.
“Wish her well for me, won’t you?” How could her voice sound natural?
A four-horse team pulled a heavily loaded wagon past, blocking her view of Gus. Time slowed like molasses poured in January. Her breathing rasped too loud as her fear doubled.
“Sure will.” Hunter ambled to the shelves lining the north wall. His gaze roved over the display of fabrics and he paused to finger a cotton flannel in pale buttercup. “This is nice.”
The wagon finally cleared. Gus strode straight for her door.
Her heart skipped two beats and slammed back into rhythm.
“Is this spoken for?” Hunter was oblivious to her distress. “I picture a night dress and wrapper. A timely Christmas present for my wife, don’t you think? I want to give her something that makes her feel beautiful, especially after the baby comes.”
Effie gripped the wooden counter top, panic rooting her boots to the floor.
Run!
The back door. She could make it, just as Gus cleared the shop’s entrance. He would apprehend her within seconds.
“Do you have time?” Hunter seemed to really see her then. “Mrs. O’Leary?”
She blinked, desperate to mask her terror. If Hunter read her, he’d stay and try to help. He’d witness her humiliation as August Rose, U.S. Marshal, locked her in handcuffs.
Gus no doubt brought proof of her true identity, along with a warrant for her arrest.
Hunter, bless his good-hearted soul, took a step closer. “You feeling all right, ma’am?”
Bells hanging from the doorknob clattered as Gus pushed the door open. Winter air swirled in, but Effie was already so cold. She fought to keep her focus on Hunter…and failed.
Don’t let it be him. Please, let it be a trick of the light, a waking nightmare…
His gray eyes zeroed in on her, pinned her to the spot.
Definitely Gus Rose.
Five years later, the handsome young man she’d loved had filled out and broadened, hardened into a lawman.
Her stomach rolled all the way over within her too-tight corset.
Hunter followed her gaze over his shoulder. He glanced at the newcomer long enough to make a decision. He covered one of her clenched hands with a big, warm palm, a soothing touch meant to convey…something. Support? Kindness? He raised one brow as if to repeat his question: You feeling all right?
She needed Hunter to leave. Now.
She didn’t want anyone to witness her humiliation, especially Hunter. The townsfolk witnessing her walk of shame, in shackles and handcuffs, would be awful.. But if anyone overheard the conversation sure to come, the sensational news would spread like wildfire. The train ran through Mountain Home once daily. By the time Gus forced her onto tomorrow’s train, everyone would know.
Hunter leaned both elbows on the counter, as if he had all the time in the world. “Think you’ve got time to squeeze that project in before Christmas?” He indicated the flannel with a tip of his dark head. “I’ll pay double your rate.” His smile said what words did not—he’d look out for her until the stranger was long gone.
For once, she wished her friend’s husband wasn’t so kind.
Effie cleared her throat, fought for breath. With trembling hands she pulled out her ledger that tracked all orders placed, materials used, hours of labor, selling price, and date of delivery or pick up. She scanned the entries, unable to make sense of it. “Yes. For you, yes.” If, by some miracle she were still here, she’d do it.
“Put it down, then. Can’t have that beautiful cloth going to anyone else now, can I?” He claimed the yardage off the shelf and set it on the counter. He’d been in often enough to know Effie set aside pieces once selected. “I’m thinking a long row of buttons down the front, to make it easy with the baby.”
“Yes, of course.” She tried to smile, quite impossible with Gus watching her every move.
“Long sleeves, high neck. Tucks?” He drew lines from his collarbone on down, to illustrate.
Fortunately, Gus remained in her line of sight, leaning against the door frame. A smile of triumph curved his mouth—like a cat who’d cornered his prey, content to toy with it.
Passersby bundled against the winter cold paused to admire the new display she’d put in the window the previous night. Two more customers stopped. Move along, keep going. How much of an audience could she tolerate?
Gus drew her attention, the quirk of a smile about his lips more amusement now than triumph. She recognized his compassion in allowing her to finish with her customer…an unexpected kindness.
“You have her measurements?” Hunter asked.
She nodded, smiled as genuinely as she could muster, praying he wouldn’t think ill of her when he heard the sordid details. He’d been a frequent patron, ordering dozens of beautiful items for his bride to replace the mourning black she’d worn until their marriage a year ago. They’d been so happy together.
Effie had never known contentment—much less love like theirs—in her ill-fated marriage.
Which lead to this fateful day.
Quickly, she documented Hunter’s order in the ledger, wrapped the baby’s layette in brown paper and tied it with string. He paid in full with a generous tip, despite her protestations.
“Thank you, Mr. Kendall.” She tried to convey far more than appreciation for his patronage. “Give Miranda my best? Kiss the baby for me.”
“You’ll come visit after the birth, won’t you? Surely you can get away on a Sunday afternoon.”
The shop was closed on Sundays, and she’d made a habit of visiting friends. She’d miss it. She’d miss everything about Mountain Home. She nodded.
The weight of all she would lose provoking tears.
She would not cry, she would not plead. She’d made her bed, and she’d lie in it.
“On second thought—” Hunter dug deep into his pocket. “Let me leave a deposit on the night clothes.” He quickly counted a few coins and set them on the counter. “We’ll settle when I pick it up. Or you can send it with Noelle.”
Miranda’s younger sister Noelle worked three days a week as Effie’s assistant. Thank goodness the young woman wasn’t here to witness Effie’s humiliation.
“Yes. Th-thank you.” Anxiety flushed her body hot and cold all at once. With Hunter’s departure, nothing stood between the pretense of normality and incarceration.
Hunter pulled on his gloves, nodded to Gus, and with the layette bundle beneath his arm, left the shop.
Cold air swirled about Effie’s ankles, swishing the hem of her widow’s weeds.
The bells hanging from the knob tinkled. The door had barely shut when Gus flipped the sign to CLOSED. He pulled down the rolling shade over the front door’s window.
Her heart raced.
Too bad the bay window didn’t have privacy shades. Several curious faces peered inside. They’d long since lost interest in the display. No, no! Must Hunter join the crowd at her window?
Within the quarter-hour, everyone in Mountain Home would know of her disgrace. Gut-twisting agony made her weak-kneed. So many friends and neighbors trusted her. Numerous orders were half-completed, and she’d accepted payment on dozens not yet delivered. They’d be justifiably angry over the loss of hard-earned money.
Her thoughts raced ahead—she’d leave instructions with Mr. McGillicudy to issue refunds—
Gus twisted the key in the lock. The soft click knocked her heart into a frantic staccato.
She expected him to pocket the key but he left it in the keyhole. Armed, twice her weight, a predator—she couldn’t escape him and he knew it.
Bile rose in her throat and she feared she’d be sick.
His boots thumped ominously on the polished floorboards.
She fell back a step. All determination to accept her fate fled like the wind. “G-Gus, listen, please. I can explain—”
Two steps closer. His feral grin widened.
Her back collided with the door to her private quarters at the back of the shop. “I can explain—I know it wasn’t right…”
If he had an ounce of compassion, if he recalled the tender feelings they’d once had for each other—
He snagged her wrist.
—he wouldn’t do this!
She expected the cold slap of iron.
Instead, he yanked on her arm, tipping her off balance. She fell against his chest and found herself looking up…way up…into eyes the color of a storm-tossed Atlantic.
“Gus, please—”
In that split second, she glimpsed the intention in his eyes—what? Surely he didn’t mean to—
Her breath snagged in her throat.
He lowered his head and claimed her mouth with a kiss.
Copyright © 2014 Kristin Holt, LC
COMING OCTOBER 1, 2014
MAYBE THIS CHRISTMAS
Holidays in Mountain Home, Book 2
Each book in this series stands alone and may be read in any order.
Book 1 is available now! click here for HOME FOR CHRISTMAS
Holidays in Mountain Home, Book 1
…and will soon have a cover that matches. Check back soon for new cover reveal.
September 19, 2014
September 15, 2014
Book Review: HARLEY, In The Company of Snipers #4
HARLEY
In The Company of Snipers #4
by Irish Winters
FIVE STARS.
As a huge fan of Military Romantic Suspense, I thoroughly enjoyed reading Irish Winters’s newest release–HARLEY. He’s a well-loved secondary character in books 1 through 3 in the series, so Harley’s story was a much anticipated read…and it did not disappoint.
Reasons why I ADORED this read:
The love story between Harley and Judy was so very real, so achingly true. They’re a committed couple who face (to date) the greatest challenge to their relationship…and I wanted desperately to see them come through it intact.
Harley’s damaged body and soul (he’s a combat veteran, after all) made me genuinely care about his outcome.
The inciting incident was so completely believable…without doubt, I could see Harley’s true-to-life reaction and the resulting fallout. In fact, throughout the book, the motivations and reactions were precisely on target. I could believe, easily, that the characters would do what they did, feel the way they felt. They won me over and I cared about their outcome.
The pacing made for a thoroughly enjoyable ride…I had a hard time putting it down.
Extraordinary use of suspense.
Respectful treatment of veterans’ challenges and the depth of the (often) life-long consequences. This read strengthened my already sound respect for the men and women who protect and defend, by allowing me to see life through Harley’s eyes (along with those who love him).
Multiple story threads wove together to create a multidimensional, 3-D tale. I’ve found myself thinking about the characters and elements of the plot, long after completing the read.
Well-loved former main characters (books 1 through 3) played valuable roles. While each book stands alone (IMHO), enjoying them in order was like visiting with old friends.
I believe Winters’s setting (Washington, D.C.) to be beautifully painted. I visited D.C. with my family just a couple months ago, and the recent experience only heightened my personal enjoyment of this read.
It’s easy to recommend this book (and the whole series!) to fans of Military Romantic Suspense, Romantic Suspense, Contemporary Romance, and frankly–fans of romance in any age.
Sometimes, only the heart remembers…
He’s...
Sometimes, only the heart remembers…
He’s in the fight of his life…
Suddenly back in Iraq, US Army Corporal Harley Mortimer searches for the men he left behind. He finds himself lost in a world where guilt never lets go and nothing seems real. Dead men talk and die over and over again. There is no peace or rest. Only war. Only despair. Only—didn’t he survive this exact scenario once before?
And who the hell is Judy?
She is a force to be reckoned with… Judy O’Brien’s future is planned and perfect until Harley, the man she intends to marry, goes missing. Mysteriously, Kelsey Stewart disappears the same day. He and Kelsey have a shared history, but do they love each other—that way? Worse, is he the murderer the FBI claims he is? Judy must come to grips with the man she thought she knew. And all of his secrets…
Goodreads | Amazon.com | Barnes & Noble
The wife of one handsome husband and the mother of three perfect sons, Irish divides her time between writing at home and travelling the country with her man while – writing. (Seriously, what else?)
She believes in making every day count for something and follows the wise admonition of her mother to, “Look out the window and see something!”
To learn more about Irish and her books, please visit www.IrishWinters.com.
Irish Winters is an award-winning author who dabbles in poetry, grandchildren, and rarely (as in extremely rarely) the kitchen. More prone to be outdoors than in, she grew up the quintessential tomboy on a farm in rural Wisconsin, spent her teenage years in the Pacific Northwest, but calls the Wasatch Mountains of Northern Utah home. For now.
September 15th ~ Kristin Holt – Review/Guest Post
September 16th ~ The Pleasure of Reading Today – Review
September 16th ~ TBA
September 17th ~ My Secret Bookspot – Review/Top Ten
September 17th ~ Cabin Goddess – Guest Post
September 18th ~ Fangirlish – Interview/Guest Post
September 18th ~ TBA
September 19th ~ Jen’s Reading Obsession – Review (Series)
September 19th ~ Reads All The Books – Review (Series)
Hosted by:
September 8, 2014
Coming October 1
Coming October 1, 2014
Kindle and Paperback
Maybe this Christmas
Holidays In Mountain Home, Book 2
A Sweet Historical Western Holiday Romance Novella (Rated PG)
[The books in this series are loosely connected and may be read in any order.]
Colorado, 1899
Luke Finlay intends to court Effie O’Leary as soon as she puts aside her widow’s weeds. He’s in no hurry…until August Rose, a beau from her youth, steps off the train in Mountain Home wearing a federal badge.
Effie’s not sure if August—Gus—tracked her down to face criminal charges, or because he’s still sweet on her. Either way, Gus’s arrival causes her all sorts of grief. If Gus isn’t underfoot in her tailor shop, then Luke is. It seems the two men have decided she’s a prize to be won…and the escalating competition between the two leaves her torn.
She survived one disastrous marriage, so why would she accept either Gus or Luke? But these two can be most persuasive, and have a way of showing her that maybe this Christmas it’s time to open her heart to love.
Sometimes even an old-fashioned courtship needs a deadline.
Copyright © 2014 Kristin Holt, LC
September 1, 2014
Book Signing Event
I’ll be at the First United Methodist Church Craft Bazaar at the Utah Romance Writers of America’s booth. The event runs for two days, and I’m only one of several authors signing paperback books for sale at this event. As it draws nearer, I’ll post more specific information.
If you’re local, please stop by! I’d love to meet you.
First United Methodist Church
1339 W 400 N, Ogden, UT 84404
Friday, October 24th: 12 PM to 6 PM
Saturday, October 25th: 9 AM to 4 PM
August 22, 2014
Why?
I write sweet romances appropriate for all audiences.
Why?
I love romance. Everything about it! There’s nothing quite like the satisfying resolution (earned by triumphing over scads of conflict) for two people truly committing to one another in the forever sort of way. I read and write romance because I’m a believer in happily-ever-after. When I’ve read the last page and sigh with contentment, I want to believe these two will survive—thrive! —facing every disaster life will throw at them. Together. They’re so much better off, infinitely stronger, because of their partnership.
My romances are sweet (clean; rated G/PG)…with language and content appropriate for all audiences. My reasons include three daughters (ages 16 to 22); preferably, my daughters won’t have to learn the hard way that sex does not equal romantic love. The most convincing proof of romantic love certainly can be illustrated without sex.
You be the judge; did I succeed in proving this hypothesis?
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