A Modern-Day Horse Story

by Amber Leigh Williams

It’s been some time since I’ve posted here at Sweethearts of the West. I apologize to my fellow Sweethearts and our readers for being away so long. I have a great horse story I hope will make up for my absence!

In the Corral

 My husband and I took a road trip with his brother and sister-in-law and two of their children a couple of weekends ago. It was a rescue mission. They are horse owners. Before our trip, they had three horses and room for one more. When they heard of a wild, abandoned horse on a large property outside Mobile, they decided to help.

The story of the horse unfortunately has a lot to do with the economic downturn. A family built a beautiful mansion in the woods outside Mobile. It’s removed from the city and sits on several acres. The family, however, couldn’t afford the house and were forced to give it up to foreclosure. Instead of finding their horses loving and caring homes, they left them to roam wild on the land that now belongs to the bank. It’s rumored that one of the horses died because by the time my brother- and sister-in-law got wind of it, there was only one horse on the property. The upside to this tragic story is that the bank was concerned for the remaining horse’s welfare, so much so that they offered it free of charge to whoever could catch it.

Several people tried and failed. One Saturday, my brother- and sister-in-law traveled with a horse trailer to Mobile to see if they could rescue the poor animal. They spent the better part of the day trying but couldn’t quite get the horse corralled. That night my brother-in-law called my husband, asking for his help. My husband agreed and the next day I tagged along for the ride.

Brother-in-law & Hubby in the Corral with the Horse

When we pulled through the gate onto the property, we spotted the horse lingering around the house. She shied at our approach even when my sister-in-law got out of the truck and tried walking to her with a bucket of feed. We parked the truck and horse trailer. While their youngest child and I watched from the house, the horse ran into the woods and the others did their best to catch her. It was a hot day, as most are on the Gulf Coast in July. Thankfully, the bank had left the back door to the house open so we could take advantage of the air conditioning and restrooms if we needed to. My niece and I watched as the horse ran from the woods and into the fenced-in pasture where it was once stabled. The others hurried to build a corral with portable fencing we had brought in the truck at the entrance to the pasture. It took them less than an hour after building the corral for them to corner her inside. The four of them were already exhausted from running across the large property, but now that they had the horse in the corral they were so close to their end goal of getting her safely into the horse trailer that they couldn’t stop.

It was now clear to everyone that the horse hadn’t had any human contact for some time. Her diet was poor and she was dirty. The fact that she was small took everyone by surprise. My sister-in-law managed to get a look at her teeth when the horse took a treat from her hand. They were so tiny, she couldn’t have been older than two years. Still, she didn’t make it easy for my husband and his brother to get her into the horse trailer. By the time they finally did so, their clothes were soaked clean through and everyone was in desperate need of some cold beverages.

Meeting her new family....

The ride back to our side of the bay was a long one, but we made it safely out of Mobile and soon brought the horse to her new, loving, caring home. It’s been a few weeks since she arrived at my brother- and sister-in-law’s house and she seems to be doing well on a healthy diet and in the shade of their front pasture. When my husband and I visited a few days ago, she even let me pet her face.

Thank goodness for people like my brother- and sister-in-law who are willing to go out of their way to help horses like this one. I thought it was an important story to tell because I know there are others horses out there who might have been abandoned or suffer from poor care. I personally don’t have much experience with horses, but I do know there has to be better options for those whose owners can no longer care for them. I also think it’s important to recognize everyday heroes like my brother- and sister-in-law, their children, and my husband who take action when an animal is in need.

Gold Discovered in 1849

By Paisley Kirkpatrick

The 1849 gold discovery sparked a mass hysteria as immigrants traveled from around the world to what soon would be known as the gold country of California. Digging for gold from early dawn until dusk was a backbreaking job, but the desire to find their fortune in gold drove these miners on. A miner had to find an ounce of gold a day to just break even. Most miners barely found enough for daily expenses.

The gold discovery wrought immense changes upon the land and its people. The peak production of placer gold occurred in 1853. Every year after that, more and more men were in California, but less gold was found. Thousands of disillusioned gold seekers returned home with little to show for their endeavors, glad to escape with their health.

After the boom, many miners -- broke and looking for wages -- headed to San Francisco. Some stayed in the towns that developed during the gold rush. I found this rebuilding of the lives and communities an exciting time in history. Some let disappointment send them into lives of drink and gambling. Others pulled together to rebuild their towns and start businesses, some of which still stand today. Placerville, known as both Dry Diggins and Hangtown during the heydays, still holds onto some of those grand houses, rock buildings, and tunnels zigzagging underneath the town.

Luckily for me, I have this history at my fingertips to inspire my stories. My first book, Paradise Pines Series: Night Angel will be released by Desert Breeze Publishing August 21st. It is a story of a hotel owner who anonymously helps the downtrodden citizens of his community by traveling through the tunnels at night to provide families with goods they need. A vibrant saloon-singing poker player arrives in town and stirs it out of its doldrums with her beautiful voice and colorful costumes.

EXCERPT:

The Scot's insensitive words snapped across her back. Amalie jerked her hands from his grasp and moved behind the chair. She barely controlled the urge to slap his face. "That's the second time you've taken my character to task, Mr. Grainger. Prostitute myself indeed."

Declan got to his feet. Disgust exuded from his powerful gaze. "Woman, you take yourself far too seriously. I did not call you a prostitute. I said--" He stepped back, stared at his feet a moment before speaking again. "You have my apologies. I meant no insult to your character. Buck Thatcher is a dangerous man and must be taken seriously. You and I both know he wanted more than a kiss for the gold nugget."

"I didn't need you to swoop in and protect me. I am not some inexperienced schoolgirl."

He threw up his hands. "My mistake."

He gave her the most pitiful, insincere look she'd ever seen.

"I should have remembered you explained all of this with eloquence outside the saloon tonight, but I couldn't concentrate on your well-chosen words with you barely contained in your black dress."

She caught the mischievous tilt to his lips. She also noticed where his gaze settled. At any other time she'd appreciate the attention, but not under these circumstances. She pulled the soft woolen blanket tighter across her breasts. He baited her, but she couldn't let his comment go. The deliciously handsome man was far too sure of himself and needed to be put in his place.

"Lily Fox doesn't need or want your advice on how to handle Buck Thatcher. She's dealt with worse than the cocksure gambler."

"Not in my presence, you haven't." He moved with slow, but determined steps toward her. "Surely you can find it in your generous heart to take pity on this most humble of men?" He placed his hand over his heart and tapped his fingers. "An uncontrollable desire to protect a woman just bursts outta me when I see her in harm's way."

When he flashed a wide grin, she relaxed her stance. "Oh, you are a charmer, aren't you?"

His low rumbling chuckle shot through her. If she was as smart as she proclaimed, she'd flee from the man's hotel this very night. He was a lot more dangerous than Buck Thatcher ever could be. She feared her defenses might not be strong enough to protect her heart from his more than abundant charm.

LEGEND OF MUSTANG JANE

Let me share the legend of a Sally Newman, the woman later called “Mustang Jane” by her vaqueros. She was born in Illinois in 1817 to Rachel (nee Rabb) and Joseph Newman. Her parents followed her maternal grandparents through several states to eventually settle in southeastern Texas and become part of Stephen F. Austin’s “Old Three Hundred.” (Sorry if you’re not familiar with Texas history, but Stephen F. Austin’s 300 is a big deal here.) As a pioneer wife, Mrs. Newman was no stranger to conflict. On at least two occasions, she thwarted attacks from Comanche or Apache with quick and decisive action while young Sally watched.

When Sally was sixteen, she registered the brand for the cattle she had inherited from her father. Although she registered the brand in her maiden name, she noted on the application that she was the wife of Jesse Robinson, a man eighteen years her senior. The alliance lasted for ten years. Custody of their children, Nancy and Alfred, was ceded to Jesse when the couple divorced in 1843. Sally kidnapped Nancy, but was forced to return her to Jesse.

Sally’s luck with her second, third, fourth and fifth husbands was no better. She went by the last name of her second husband, Sally Scull. It was while she was married to George Scull (sometimes spelled Skull) that she developed her love for and interest in horsetrading.

While she was losing husbands (with some speculation that she might have assisted a couple of them in departing this life), Sally was gaining a reputation for marksmanship. Whether in skirts or pants, she always wore two pistols belted to her waist and usually wore a bonnet. She was a dead shot with both pistol and rifle, in either hand. A tiny woman with steel blue eyes, she weighed 125 pounds at most. Her rough language was notorious, and she spoke Tex-Mex as well as if it were her native tongue. When she wasn’t traveling alone, she rose in the company of several Mexican vaqueros. She roamed the wide territory between the Sabine River and the Rio Grande, making her headquarters at a small settlement called Banquette, about twenty miles west of Corpus Christi. The vaqueros who worked for her and other Mexicans who knew her called her “Juana Mestena,” Mustang Jane. She could outshoot any of her ranch hands, roped and rose with the best of them, and could drive a herd better than any of the wranglers in her employ.

Horsetrading was her primary business, a profitable one, and often under questionable circumstances. After a trip into Mexico, she always returned with a nice herd of stock, yet her money belt was still full. Sally knew all the ranches in the area. Ranch wives sometimes hinted that while Sally made eyes at the menfolk, her vaqueros were busy cutting the best horses from the herd. There were also rumors that she had assistance from the Comanche. If Sally admired particular horses and the owner refused to sell, Comanche raiders mysteriously visited the ranch shortly after Sally’s departure. No one ever caught Sally in possession of a horse for which she couldn’t show rightful ownership because she never let anyone inspect her herd.

Sally worked hard and played hard.  She was an avid poker player and her favorite haunts included Old St. Mary’s Saloon at Copano Bay, Pancho Grande’s in Corpus Christi, and several places in Refugio. She attended many a fandango due to her love of dancing. Can’t you imagine her dancing while wearing those two pistols belted around her waist?

During the Civil War, Sally’s knowledge of the southern Texas backcountry served the Confederacy. Union forces blockaded Texas ports, stopping all shipments from England. The United States could not block ports south of the border, so Mexico’s ports were open. Sally sold her stock of horses, bought wagons, and turned her vaqueros into cotton haulers. Her wagons became a common sight on the roads from San Antonio to Matamoros on what became known as the Cotton Road. Cotton was traded in Matamoros for guns, ammunition, medicines, coffee, shoes, clothing and other goods vital to the Confederacy and need by inland Texas settlements. When the war ended in 1865, Sally sold her wagons and resumed the horse business.

Sally had little to do with her son, Alfred, who lived with his father and stepmother and their eight children on Ramerania Creek, about fifty miles northwest of Corpus Christi. No one knows what happened to Alfred Robinson. Nancy and her mother were closer. Sally sent her to one of the best boarding schools in New Orleans. Nancy returned to Texas, married, and lived up to her mother’s dreams. They were close until one visit when one of Nancy’s family dogs growled at Sally and she shot the dog.

No one knows what happened to Sally Scull and no known photo of her exists. Texas mothers used to cajole their children to behave or “Old Sally Skull will get you.” Not a nice remembrance, but Sally Scull had defied all expectations of womanhood for her era or any other. She walked tall in a world of strong men and made anyone in her path step aside. She has a Texas State Historical Marker which says:

Women rancher, horse trader, champion "cusser". Ranched NW of here. In Civil War Texas, Sally Scull (or Skull) freight wagons took cotton to Mexico to swap for guns, ammunition, medicines, coffee, shoes, clothing and other goods vital to the confederacy. 


Dressed in trousers, Mrs. Scull bossed armed employees; was sure shot with the rifle carried on her saddle or the two pistols strapped to her waist. Of good family, she had children cared for New Orleans School. Often visited them. Loved dancing. Yet during the war, did extremely hazardous "Man's Work".  

FIRE EYES--PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE by Cheryl Pierson

Fire Eyes is always going to be the “book of my heart”—most special to me for several reasons. By the end of my writing career, it may not be said that it’s my best work, but it will always remain the most memorable, because it was my first one.

I know e-books are the wave of the future, but I’m old fashioned. I love to hold a real book in my hands and read from paper. And when that first box of print books arrived at my doorstep, I was elated. I can’t tell you how long I sat and fondled the books as I took them out of the box. BEAUTIFUL! My husband wondered if I was going to “rub the paint off” the covers. But there is nothing to compare with receiving your first box of YOUR OWN BOOK and opening it up—the smell, the feel , the excitement of finally bringing your story to life for others to enjoy.

Writing Fire Eyes happened by accident. I had written a much longer “saga” type novel, Brandon’s Gold, and had queried for it. I received several letters of interest back from agents, finally settling on one that I thought would be a good fit for me and for my book. His first question to me was, “Do you have anything shorter?” Through other responses received from my queries, I knew that Brandon’s Gold was far too long for a first novel; far too long to be commercially viable, so I wasn’t surprised.

I had already started working on another novel after finishing Brandon’s Gold. But halfway through that second novel, the idea for Fire Eyes occurred to me. I set my WIP aside and started writing Fire Eyes instead.

The story of Marshal Kaed Turner and Jessica Monroe unfolded quickly, but as I wrote it, I couldn’t keep from developing subplots that I feared would eventually make it too long, as well. Finally, I gave myself permission to just write the story and get it polished enough to send it out.

Eventually, Fire Eyes was contracted through The Wild Rose Press. I had a wonderful editor there, Helen Andrew, who literally made my dream come true. We worked on that manuscript and cut and edited until I sometimes wanted to cry. She really explained in detail why certain things couldn’t stand and had to go or be changed. But the end result was wonderful, and it couldn’t have happened without her. A lot of very hard work had gone into that story, not just from my perspective, but also from many other people who were involved in one way or another.

Fire Eyes was a 2010 Epic Award Finalist, and received many wonderful reviews, including a 4 star review from Romantic Times Magazine. It also received the “Reviewers Top Pick” award from PNR reviewer Karen M. Nutt.

Three years later, in April of this year, I asked for my rights back to Fire Eyes. I loved that story, but I wanted to put it out the way I had written it in the beginning. It was a great story, even with the edits, to be brought out in the TWRP romance line. But part of what ‘had to go’ for the TWRP guidelines was important to the story, in my mind. There were company guidelines to be followed when Helen and I had worked so hard three years ago to make it ‘fit’, and neither of us could change that. So we’d worked together to find a way to take out the parts that made it more “western” than “romance” and still came out with a fine story.

But I wanted to put it back together again, like I’d intended. I submitted the story to another small publisher who has an imprint for westerns and western romances, WESTERN TRAIL BLAZER. I was able to re-edit the book and add in much of what I’d had to take out or rewrite in the first version. It was released again, May 15, just three years shy of my first release date, with a brand new Jimmy Thomas cowboy cover and lots of renewed interest.

The e-book version is available now at Amazon, Lulu, Monkeybars, Barnes and Noble,

Sony and Apple, as well as many other e-book retailers.

Here are the links for Smashwords and Amazon:
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/162817
http://www.amazon.com/Fire-Eyes-ebook/dp/B0083JYET8

The print version is also available at Amazon and Barnes and Noble, among other retailers. I’m very happy about breathing new life into this wonderful story. I’ve ordered my print copies, and I sat on the floor and ‘rubbed the paint off’ again when they arrived. And I’m so very grateful that I’ve had two chances to get my story out there—another thrill, a second time around!

Future plans for Fire Eyes? Evidently, many of my secondary characters in that story have piqued interest and requests for those characters to have their own stories. One of the younger deputy marshals, Travis Morgan, intrigued me so much I felt the same way! He needs his own story…and he’s going to get it. In Fire Eyes, Travis has been mentored by Kaed Turner, the main character of the story. He’s learned a lot during the time he’s been riding with Kaed, but he’s still relatively young and pretty arrogant.

The more I thought about Travis, the more I wondered about where he’d come from and why he’d decided to become a U.S. Federal Deputy Marshal in the first place—it was a thankless job; dangerous, and not well-paying. Why would he do it? And what would ever make him give it up, once it became the way of life he was familiar with?

A WOMAN, OF COURSE! And one that he never suspects will steal his heart. That’s what will be coming up in the sequel to Fire Eyes. I’ve also written another book, Gabriel’s Law, that I’m still looking for a publisher for, that has Travis as a character as a young boy, so we can see where he came from and gain a bit of insight into his character and the man he becomes later on.

Thanks to everyone who stopped by today to read. Please don’t forget to comment! I’ll leave you with a blurb and excerpt from Fire Eyes:

BLURB:
Marshal Kaed Turner is given a rare second chance at love with the mysterious woman the Choctaw call “Fire Eyes.” But can he quiet the ghosts from his past and protect the love that was stolen from him once before? There’s only one way: Kill outlaw Andrew Fallon, along with the murdering band of men he leads.

EXCERPT FROM FIRE EYES:
THE SET UP: Marshal Kaed Turner has been deposited on widow Jessica Monroe's front porch by a band of Choctaw Indians with orders from the chieftain: "Do not let him die." But can she save him? He's been severely beaten by a band of renegades that run the borderlands between Arkansas and Indian Territory. The last man they brought to her doorstep died. What will become of Marshal Turner? Can she save him?

FROM FIRE EYES:
The bath could be put off no longer. Kaed lay quietly, watching Jessica's nervousness.
"Jessi." When she looked at him, his bones liquefied. She wanted him. All question of how the night would end were answered as their eyes met and held over an achingly sweet moment.

Jessica sank her teeth into her lower lip, her fingers moving to the tiny row of buttons at the front of her day dress. She slowly began to work them open. "Kaed, would you, um, I mean, well, I need to get my bath now."

"I suppose that means I need to at least turn my head." His mouth was dry. It was hot in the cabin all of a sudden.

"Uh-huh." She kept right on unbuttoning the buttons, caught in his gaze. "And close your eyes."

Yeah, well it wouldn't matter if he did. He'd still see the picture she burned in his mind as she stood there opening those buttonholes.

Her fingers hesitated at the button just above the rich swell of her breasts. Kaed wet his lips, not turning his head or closing his eyes.

"Kaed?" Her voice was a husky whisper. That made him close his eyes. The sound of his name on her lips had him imagining doing all the things that a man did with a woman. All the things that were soon to come.

God. The heat was unbearable.

"Huh?" He slitted his still-swollen eyes open and saw she had released that button and moved down to the next one. He gritted his teeth.

"Turn…your…head." A teasing smile played about her mouth, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking, what he was imagining.

Turning away would be a good thing right about now. If he could only persuade his neck to cooperate.

"Yeah. Okay." He turned his face toward the window. Sort of.

"I'm trusting you."

Kaed sighed, frustrated. "I know." It was the one thing she might've said that would have kept him true to his word, that part about trusting. He couldn't betray that. "I've gotta move slow. Hurts."

"Don't—" The dress whispered to the floor.

"I won't," he gritted, the words bitter in his mouth.


OH MY! I wonder what happens after that bath?
Please leave a comment. I love to hear from readers and other writers! For all my books and short stories, go to:
Cheryl's Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/cherylpierson

WOULD YOU BE A MAIL-ORDER BRIDE?

By Callie Hutton

In AN ANGEL IN THE MAIL, my heroine, Angelina Hardwick, is surprised to discover her deceased father’s estate is penniless, and her step-mother has arranged for Angel to be a mail order bride. To a man with five children! Having spent her entire life being catered to by servants, to say her new life was a shock, is an understatement.

During my research for this story, I found a book called HEARTS WEST by Chris Enss. The book relates true stories of mail order brides on the frontier. These women were brave, or in some cases, desperate. The lure of the gold fields depleted the number of marriageable males in so many cities in the east.

These men missed female companionship. Most of the camps and quickly-sprung-up towns had their share of brothels, but many men longed for more than a quick tumble. They missed the idea of the comforts of home that only a wife could provide. And children to pass on the land they worked so hard to cultivate after they gave up on striking gold.

So began the practice of advertising for women to travel west to marry a stranger. I often think of how it would feel to leave everything you’ve known your entire life, and travel to a strange part of the country to meet a stranger that would be your husband. I’m sure that time period had its share of unsavory men, just as today. Although in romance, we make the hero strong and handsome, the heroine pretty and loveable, I imagine in real life that didn’t necessarily work out that way.

One of the stories in HEARTS WEST tells is of a woman whose stagecoach was held up on the way to her new home. One of the bandits had an unusual tattoo on his hand. She was dismayed to find out at her wedding that her new husband had the same tattoo on his hand. She backed out. Smart girl.

What about you? We put so much stock today in being ‘in love’ before we would consider marriage, how would you feel about marrying a stranger?

My first love is being a mom. Second, reading, which naturally segued into writing–for me, anyway.
I’ve been making up stories since elementary school, and writing gave me a way to turn off the voices in my head.  I’ve had a number of articles and interviews published over the years, and about two years ago, decided to put it to the test and write a book.
Three of my Historicals have been published by Soul Mate Publishing. A RUN FOR LOVE (Oklahoma Lovers #1), and it’s first sequel, A WIFE BY CHRISTMAS (Oklahoma Lovers #2), and AN ANGEL IN THE MAIL.  In October, book number three of my Oklahoma Lovers Series will be released from Soul Mate Publishing, A PRESCRIPTION FOR LOVE.
Although I’ve lived in several states, Oklahoma is where I’ve hung my hat for the last several years, but I hail from New Jersey. I’m an Okie-Jersey girl. And proud of it.
I love my animals, two rescue dogs and a rescue cat, as well as my son’s dog who is temporarily living with us—along with my son. My daughter, Anna, still lives at home while she works on her Law Enforcement degree at Oklahoma State University. Add to our group my hubby of thirty-five years, and things are always hopping.
You can catch me hanging out at Facebook, Twitter- @CallieHutton, and my home base, www.calliehutton.com. Stop by sometime and say hello.

Gold Mining

www.laurirobinson.blogspot.com

The gold rushes of the 1800’s spurred immigration, migration, settlements and businesses of all kinds in several areas of the United States (and the world). Gold mining actually proved unprofitable for the majority of miners and mine owners, however a few became extremely rich by it, and that was enough to keep men and women dreaming and searching for the mother load. Merchants and transport companies made huge profits and often mines that were lucrative enough, expanded to include these other services, therefore double and tripling the money they made.

Mines were often started by an individual panning for the gold. A simple process of washing the gold out of the sand and gravel with a ‘pie pan’ shaped wash basin. Once it was determined there was significant findings, the individual would set or file a claim and perhaps build a sluice box or rockers, and most likely hire or partner up with other miners. Though the investment at this point was relatively minimal, the work was hard, usually too much for one man to handle. The gold in the stream beds would usually be gathered rather quickly, leaving the miner to search for the vein that had fed the creek bed findings, or move on.

When searching for the feeder vein, more men would be needed to tunnel into the earth, find and transport the ore. Here more capital was needed as well and miners often sold out their claim to larger operations who’d then oversee the extraction of the ore, delivering it to stamp mills, where they’d crush the large rocks, and eventually to the smelters where the gold would be extracted from the other telluride minerals. Sometimes these minerals proved more valuable or plentiful than the gold. Many once gold mines evolved into silver mines, or even lead, zinc, or copper mines.  

Though many advertisements lured folks to the gold mines with promises of nuggets lying on the ground like apples falling from trees, that was far from the case. Mining towns of the old west were some of the roughest places, Tombstone, Deadwood, Telluride. In many of those places it wasn’t the miners causing trouble, it was those striving to ‘make it rich’ by relieving the miners of their hard-found gold.

In March of 2013 Inheriting a Bride will be released by Harlequin Historicals. The story is about Kit Becker who travels to Colorado to claim the gold mine she’d inherited from her grandfather. There she not only meets Clay Hoffman, her grandfather’s partner, but learns family secrets that tear her apart. I dedicated that book to Chris Ralph, a man I will most likely never meet in person, but after I stumbled across his blog, he and I conversed through email and phone conversations, and he taught me more about gold mining than I could have ever hoped to learn.

That Sweet Old Familiar Feeling by Jeanmarie Hamilton

Earline Barnes oil painting "Floral"
gives me that sweet old familiar feeling

It isn’t just about love. The title of my blog this month can apply to many things. It could be a favorite home, a vacation spot, a park, a beach, or anywhere. It could apply to a comfortable chair, bed, etc. It could be a beloved object of some kind, a piece of china that belonged to your family, or grand parents, or someone close to you, or that you’ve seen somewhere. It could be a book, or characters in a book, or a setting in a book. It could be a movie, or a play, or someone who entertains you. It could be a painting, a sculpture, or anything. What gives you that sweet old familiar feeling?

I’m thinking about books, stories, and characters today. I love to read romances, stories with a happily ever after feeling. I’ve read lots of romances over the years that I’ve been reading romances. I’ve read single title romances that don’t have characters which continue in a similar story in a follow-up book, and I’ve read series romances which have returning characters along with new characters in all of the books in the series. The setting stays pretty much the same too. But I have to say that for me it’s the returning characters that give me that sweet old familiar feeling.

 You know that feeling. When it comes to books, the feeling makes me want to curl up in my favorite chair with a cup of coffee or a soda, and some chocolate, and settle in to read for hours. I feel like I know the characters in the story, and I know how they’ll react. It’s a warm fuzzy feeling that makes me comfortable, like I’m returning to a favorite place I’ve enjoyed before. It’s as if I can take a deep breath, because the characters are people I know and love. They’re good friends within the pages of a story, and I know how they will behave. It’s a good feeling. Have you had that sweet old familiar feeling while reading?

Since I discovered that I like to read series stories with returning characters, I’ve decided to write series stories. I want to give readers of my stories that same sense of the sweet old familiar when they discover characters they’ve known and enjoyed in previous stories I’ve written.

Do you have a favorite series that gives you that feeling?

I have a new novella coming out July 25, next week, that is part of a new series I’m writing. The series is Hondo, Texas Wolves, and this novella is the second book in the series. It’s titled "Guardian of Her Dream."

You can find it at Siren BookStrand Publishing, under my author name, Claire Adele.

I wish you stories to curl up with and read.

Jeanmarie Hamilton
                 
http://www.JeanmarieHamilton.com
aka Claire Adele
Hondo, Texas Wolves
Wolves of West Texas