Living on the Surface of the Sun by Bea Tifton

Texas is a beautiful state. It has every type of typography one would want, seashores, mountains, bayous, forests, plains, and desert. There’s so much history in quirky little towns and big cities.

But Texas is pure D hot. One summer I asked Mom why we lived here. She replied, “This is where the stagecoach broke down.” Texas usually goes from summer to winter. And with climate change, it’s hot from April to October. I read that many of the people who are streaming into Texas move back after experiencing one of our summers. (Still, so many more are pouring in and I can’t find a darn parking space anywhere. But that’s a different blog for a different day.) 

Big Bend, Texas

South Padre Island, Texas

   

       

Houston, Texas

Davis Mountains, Texas

Big Cypress Bayou, Texas

South Plains, Texas

I cannot take the heat. I went on one date with a man who knew everything. It was exhausting. He’s a runner, and when I explained that I cannot exercise in the heat he said smugly, “Everyone can exercise in the heat. You just need to hydrate.” Did you notice I said one date? But I have a friend who was an EMT. He confirmed that once someone has had heat exhaustion, they are much more prone to it from then on. And I’ve never been able to get hot; I pass out, which is quite embarrassing and inconvenient. So, I stay inside when it’s hot. Thank goodness that pretty much everywhere I go is air conditioned. The man who invented AC, Willis Carrier, should have gotten the Nobel Peace Prize. Just sayin’.

Willis Carrier

It can be disappointing, though. Texas has so many fun festivals during the hot months, and I simply can’t go. And people don’t understand why I have to say no to invitations to hike, kayak, picnic, etc. Because, of course, all I'd have to do is hydrate.

Sometimes I wish I lived in a place that had four well defined seasons. Especially fall, my favorite. I love those photos of fall colors from other parts of the country. And we do have some color changes, despite what many people say. Still, no one is going to travel to Texas in the fall just to go leaf peeping. 

Lost Maples State Park, Texas

We’re in the hottest month of the year now. But I’m safely tucked up in my house with the air conditioning.  Just like Willis Carrier intended.

Photo Credits: 

Wikimedia Commons: "Texas Lone Star State"

Pexels.com: Genevieve Ma'yet  "Asphalt Road on Wasteland"

Pexels.com: Andrea Hinajosa "White and Gray Bird on Brown sand Near Body of Water"

Pexels.com: Jeswin Thomas "A Wooden Deck in a Forest"

Wikimedia Commons: Justin Cozart "Elephant Mountain"

Wikimedia Commons: "Big Cypress Bayou" 

Wikimedia Commons: "South Plains Texas Wind Turbines"

Wikimedia Commons: "Willis Carrier in 1915"

Wikimedia Commons: "The Lost Maples State Park Fall Colors in Texas" 

Pexels.com: Cottonbro Studio "A Woman Sitting on a Windowsill While Holding a Cup of Coffee and a                     Book"

WHERE THE WAGON TRAIN BROKE DOWN By Caroline Clemmons

One of my favorite songs opens, "Summertime and the livin' is easy...." In spite of that, summer is my least favorite season. Please give me spring and fall with more moderate temperatures.  I donate my sunscreen lotion to the sun lovers while I choose to remain indoors with a good book and soothing music.

That's what I'd choose, all right, but life doesn't work that way, does it?

Once we had a dark blue car with the same color leather seats. We kept towels in the vehicle to sit on when wearing shorts. We also threw a towel over the steering wheel if we had to park in the open. Nothing like fastening a molten metal seat belt buckle over a child, right? Car manufacturers have caught on since those days, and the interior of modern cars are not quite the roasting pans of the past. 

I live in North Central Texas, and we have many extremely hot days. Once when friends from Tampa visited, the temperature was 113F, unusually high for us. Their ten-year-old son asked me, "Why do you live here?"

My usual reply to this complex question is, "This is where the wagon train broke down."

I'm still not a fan of summer. 

Happily Ever After by Kara O'Neal

I grew up outside. Playing kickball, Hide-And-Seek, Ghosts in the Graveyard, dodgeball, 4-squre and so many others. I did everything I could to keep the sun on my skin.

But if I had to be inside, then I was reading. I had to go places and do things and reading allowed me to do that when it was raining. Or when my mom was being "mom-ish" and making me stay inside.

Honestly, I read a lot. I loved Rudyard Kipling when I was a child. Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, especially. I adored mysteries, or tales that took me to different time periods.

When I was around six or seven, my mom thought I ought to read Little Women. Well....

I did.

And then I died. A thousand deaths.

Poor sweet Beth. And then Jo did the unthinkable and rejected Laurie's proposal.

I couldn't understand that. Laurie was PERFECT. I mean, he let them play with him. He was so loyal. He loved Jo so much, and she broke his heart.

As a grown woman, Jo's choices make sense now, but as a child I had no words. I was torn up. Into a million little pieces.

That's when I learned to be scared of the ending.

The next book to destroy me was Great Expectations. Poor Miss Havisham. Poor Pip and Estella.

And then there was Nancy from Oliver. And not to mention Rhett Butler from Gone With the Wind. 

And last, The Little Mermaid. 

I mean....come on!

Then, one day, the sun came out. I picked up my first romance novel.

It was by Jude Deveraux. I had no idea romance novels even existed. I couldn't believe what I was reading! It was page after page after page of people falling in love. And then guess what?????

They ended up TOGETHER.

It was glorious! Oh, happy day!

By the time I found these books I was in college, and let me tell you, I inhaled them. These books taught me that "happily ever after" is possible. That heroes are real. And that happy endings are always better.

What's the point in putting in all the time to read a story only to be let down? I am not ashamed to say that I'm a girl who needs a happy ending. They are far superior than any other finish, and I'm proud to say that I write romance novels.

And thank God so do many of my friends.

So support the gals and gents who bring happiness and love, because it surely does encourage us to keep bring sunshine to this sometimes bleak world.

Kara O'Neal

Texas Brides of Pike's Run Series

Gamblers & Gunslingers Series

 

Cora Lee's Wager by Kara O'Neal

CORA LEE’S WAGER is finally here! Book 3 in the GAMBLERS & GUNSLINGERS series was quite a surprise. I had no idea the book would go in the direction it did, and I must say, it was quite exciting.

Cora Lee suffers through the death of her entire family in a yellow fever epidemic. Then her wealthy and formidable grandmother refuses to take her in. She becomes the ward of Frederick Tucker, who is also the father of four rowdy boys.

Cora becomes a member of the Tucker family quickly, and ends up falling for the oldest boy, Graham. And he falls for her.

But before they can go forward with their future, Cora is sent away. She ends up in an orphanage, and eventually becomes…

The “Angel of the Acre”. Hell’s Half Acre, that is.

She’s the gambler in this romance. Which was interesting, to say the least. A spot at her table is coveted, but her hero, the man she’s always loved despite the pain he’s caused her, is pretty straight-laced. And when he comes to find her, at the behest of her wealthy grandmother, Cora’s mettle is tested on many levels.

I adored writing Cora. I loved giving her and Graham their happy ending. They have to defeat more than one foe to have the future they’ve always wanted, but Graham is determined and won’t let anything stand in their way. Including Cora’s own fears.

It’s a beautiful story about second chances and the power of love. Happy reading!

CORA LEE'S WAGER

Gamblers & Gunslingers

Historical Romance

Book 3

Cora Lee Walsh. The Angel of the Acre—Hell’s Half Acre—never intended to be a professional gambler. But her wealthy grandmother hadn’t wanted her, and, at fifteen, she was abandoned by the Tucker family who’d taken her in as their ward. She had no other choice than to make vice her life. Now, the eldest son of the Tucker family is on her doorstep, asking for an audience.

Graham Tucker loved Cora to distraction, and when she ran away, it destroyed him. Twelve years later, he’s been ordered by Iona Evans, Cora’s grandmother, to bring Cora back to Houston. He’d rather chew glass. But Iona owns half his business, and she’s willing to sell her shares to him if he’s successful. Graham takes the deal.

When Cora and Graham meet again, they both fight old feelings. And Graham finds himself across the betting table from her, making a wager he can’t afford to lose.

But more threatens the pair, and Cora finds herself needing Graham. Can she trust him? The young man who’d abandoned her? Or will she find herself a victim…again?

CORA LEE'S WAGER: AN EXCERPT

Cora rocked lightly as birds twittered and flitted about. A fox trotted across her yard, and she smiled at the creature. Its red coat contrasted with the green of the short grass and the orange of the Indian paintbrushes that grew in patches.

This heavenly spot, ironically so close to hell on Earth, couldn’t be duplicated anywhere else. It was one of the reasons why she’d stayed and hadn’t sold the house after Butler had died.

She let out a sigh, sank deeper into the rocker, opened her book and just enjoyed the morning. A half-hour had passed when she felt a presence to her right. She turned her head, and her breath flew up into her throat.

Graham!

He stood on the dirt lane that went by the side of her home, his hands in his pockets, a guarded expression on his face. Their past stretched between them.

In a second, every morning she’d ever spent with him flashed before her eyes. They’d both loved the dawn. Those quiet hours before the world started. And they’d shared them together in his father’s library or on the porch just beyond the French doors.

And he must’ve decided to take a chance and see if she still woke with the sunrise.

She managed to drag in a breath but couldn’t move. She needed to get inside, hide herself from the pain he caused her. But her feet wouldn’t listen.

With a tight jaw, he took a few steps, and now he was in her yard, but still on the fringes.

He didn’t want to get close to her, either.

Well…

They’d sent her away, hadn’t they? She shouldn’t be surprised he didn’t want to see her.

So why was he subjecting them to this torture?

“Good morning,” he rumbled.

Her stomach clenched at the sound of his voice. It was deeper than she remembered.

“I need to speak with you,” he continued. He removed his hat, revealing his dark brown hair that fell attractively over his forehead.

The suit he wore helped cut him into a powerful figure. She was certain he was capable. Intelligent. Probably took care of things efficiently and to his satisfaction, regardless of whom he hurt.

He was a man now. And she thrilled at the sight of him.

Panic gripped her, and she squared her shoulders instantly, needing to get away from him, or she might beg him to explain what she’d done wrong. “I doubt we have anything to say to each other.” She twisted her lips into a sardonic smile. “You’re not someone with whom I choose to associate any longer.”

Oh, praise the Lord! She’d found the Angel of the Acre, and she would use her to block her desperation for this man.

He flinched and stiffened. “Look,” he growled, “I’ve got important business with you, and—”

“I can’t imagine why.” She shrugged. “There’s nothing you have that I could want, and I’m not interested in learning why you disagree.”

He curled his hands into fists, crushing the brim of his hat. “Maybe not, but you could at least hear me out.”

She laughed as if she hadn’t a care or concern for him. “I don’t think so. I only do business over a poker table.”

Disgust flashed in his eyes.

Good. Perhaps he would leave her alone now.

“So I’ve learned,” he spat. “Gambling is an abomination.”

She smirked. “And one I adore. There’s nothing like discovering your opponent’s weaknesses and taking him for everything he has.”

She’d never willingly done that. Or she hoped she hadn’t. She couldn’t control a man’s behavior or choices.

Graham let out a noise of disgust. “Fools. All of you.”

She shrugged. “At least we’re having a good time.”

Something shone in his eyes that she couldn’t name, but she didn’t want to look too deeply anyway. She needed to get him to leave. “Your errand is more foolish than any wager I could make,” she told him. “Best be on your way and find someone else to have your discussion with.”

He glared at her for a few silent moments. “Are you telling me that you truly only conduct business at a poker table?”

She grinned. “It’s no fun otherwise.”

With a frustrated exhale, he shoved his fingers through his hair.

Her heart flipped at its mussed state. My God. He’s gorgeous.

When he faced her again, she schooled her features back into a careless mask.

“Fine,” he ground out. “I’d like to enter tonight’s game.”

She laughed. “You can’t be serious?”

“If that’s the only way I can speak to you, then it’s what I’ll do.”

PURCHASE CORA LEE'S WAGER

Dinner And So Much More by Kara O'Neal

My first historical romance series had to have a central family. I adored the Little House books and the TV series as a child, and I wanted to write books that told tales of people from the same family and town.

Writing a book is hard. Getting the words onto the paper in ways that will enthrall readers is a labor of love, let me tell you. And according to my reviews, I have been successful with some things and not so successful with others.

The one compliment I consistently receive is how easily I weave family interactions into the story. I'm told that they seem effortless and very real.

If this is true, there's only one reason I can do that. And it all comes from experience, from the people who raised me...

And she was someone I most desperately admired. And by she, I mean my grandma. She gave us dinner and so much more...

Mashed potatoes.
Pot roast.
Gravy.
Bread.
Butter.
And jelly.

There was always jelly on her table. There were always white mounds of creamy and buttery potatoes. Her potatoes melted in your mouth like ice cream. It was glorious…

She had figurines all over her house and sofa pillows with flowers on them. She had two china cabinets filled with dishes and no dishwasher.

She played Scrabble and Skip-Bo and kept Blue Bell in the freezer. (If you aren’t from Texas, Blue Bell is the best ice cream in the country.)

She is a third generation Texan, born to migrant workers, and picked cotton throughout her childhood. She has no more than a third grade education, but has more wisdom than most PhDs.

She is my grandma.

She married Grandpa at 17 and had four children. She lived her life to take care of her family and followed Grandpa’s orders without argument.

Some disapproved of her choice to play the role of servant.

But she was married for 54 years and her husband held her hand until the day he died.

We should all be so lucky…

I owe her and many other family member so much. They have given me good times, wonderful advice and sweet memories. I will cherish every moment I spend with my family.

Kara's Books

THE DEPUTY'S DAMSEL by Kara O'Neal

I’m thrilled to introduce y’all to Joe Lonnigan and Katia Stefanski, the hero and heroine of my newest release, THE DEPUTY’S DAMSEL. This story takes us to Austin where Katia is wrongly of accused of murder, and Joe, a deputy, believes she’s innocent. Joe hides Katia, protecting her from being arrested, which is at great cost to himself. He’s risking his livelihood and perhaps his life.

But his actions caused an even stickier problem that was quite interesting and heart wrenching to write.

Joe’s cousin, Conner, happens to be the sheriff. So, not only is Joe deceiving his boss, he’s also lying to a member of his family. The scenes between Conner and Joe were just as fraught with tension as the moments of fear and despair Katia experiences being wrongly accused of murder.

The family elements in my books are strong and add so much depth to the characters. And as I wrote THE DEPUTY’S DAMSEL, I found the characters having some very real, very gut-wrenching conversations. My heart pounded hard through the last ten chapters!

Reading this romance will give you ALL the feels, I promise!

THE DEPUTY'S DAMSEL

Pike’s Run, Texas, 1887

Katia Stefanski is stunned when she learns her recently deceased step-father has arranged a marriage for her. Even worse, her step-brother intends to honor it. Despite numerous attempts to convince her brother to let her make the choice, she fails. She flees during the party intended to cement her engagement.

Deputy Joe Lonnigan crosses paths with Katia Stefanski and is struck by her beauty and fighting spirit. When he learns she's been accused of the murder of her not-wanted fiancé, he can't believe it. With her step-brother's help, Joe risks everything to keep her hidden and prove her innocence.

But Katia can't let Joe destroy his future. She’s determined to take matters into her own hands, even if it means the noose.

EXCERPT

Deputy Lonnigan sat tall in the saddle, his front dark as the moon shone from behind him. He put her in mind of a mysterious night rider, capable of taking what he wanted.

She remembered how strong his chest was, how long his arms. She refrained from gulping and strengthened her resolve. “I’m not going home. I refuse. My friend is just up this road, and I intend to stay with her for a few days.”

A moment of silence passed then the deputy said, “Well, I’m not taking you home. But you are coming with me.”

Confused, she couldn’t think of a reply.

“It’ll be the safest option.” He dismounted.

“Oh!” she gasped and back pedaled. “Don’t you dare,” she warned. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“I’ve got no time to argue.” He advanced on her quickly.

She spun on a heel, preparing to run, but he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off her feet. She bucked and kicked, dropping her bag in the process.

“Get your hands off me!” she screamed, terror fueling her jabs.

He gave slight grunts then flipped her over his shoulder.

Her breath whooshed out of her, and blood rushed to her head. “Put me down! How dare you!” She pounded her fists on his back.

He bent easily and picked up her bag with his free hand.

Frantic, she hit him harder, squirming against his hold, but his arm was a vise on the back of her legs. Tears gathered. She had no control. No power. She bit her lip to keep from sobbing in frustration and tasted blood.

After putting her bag on the back of the animal, he righted her and dumped her in the saddle. She knew the moon shone enough to reveal the silver tracks of wetness on her face, but she didn’t care. Panting from the exertion of pummeling him, she surged forward to grab the reins. But he was faster and gathered them before she could reach them. He climbed up behind her, just like yesterday, enveloping her in the cage of his arms.

A handkerchief appeared in her line of sight. Her chin wobbled, and she refused to take it.

“Please don’t cry,” he said softly, as he withdrew his offering. “I don’t have time to explain things to you. We’ve got to get off the road.”

She didn’t understand what he meant, but it wouldn’t matter if she asked. The men surrounding her weren’t listening to her anyway. She kept her mouth shut.

He clucked to the horse then kicked him into a gallop.

She tried to pay attention to her surroundings, noting that he passed the lane that led to the Cummings’ farm. They went through a shallow creek then over a rolling meadow until the shadow of a log cabin loomed.

“This belongs to a friend of mine who’s a Ranger. He’s in west Texas fighting cattle rustlers.”

She didn’t care. This man was abducting her. Her heart pounded hard, and her stomach churned with fear. If she couldn’t get away from him on the road, how would she manage to escape him once he had her tied up somewhere?

When they reached the yard, he dismounted first then lifted her at the waist. He kept his arm around her as he led her into the dwelling.

“I’m not gonna tie you up, Miss Stefanski. You’re not my prisoner. I’m trying to help you, so…” He gently disengaged from her. “Don’t run, all right? I’m gonna light a lantern, and then we’ll talk.”

He’d left the door open. The horse was still saddled. She curled her hands into fists as an insane plan developed like a lightning strike. She nodded slowly, not trusting herself to form a verbal reply since she was no good at lying.

As soon as he stepped away, she dashed out into the yard.

“Don’t,” he called.

She clutched the pommel and put her foot in the stirrup, but before she could pull herself up, he circled her waist with an arm and wrenched her back. Using all her strength, she spun and pounded on his shoulders. “Let me go!”

He switched his grip to her wrists, stopping her hits. “Stop. Please, ma’am.”

His hold wasn’t too strong, and she tried to yank away from him, but he tightened his grasp.

“Miss Stefanski, please, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then let me go,” she wailed, choking on her fear.

“I can’t, damn it!” he thundered. “You’re wanted for murder.”

PURCHASE THE DEPUTY'S DAMSEL

The Princess' Knight (A Redemption Story) by Kara O'Neal

THE PRINCESS’SKNIGHT is book 17 in the TEXAS BRIDES OF PIKE’S RUN series. And it almost never existed.

I started writing the Texas Brides series in the year 2000 and had no plans to give a story to Madeline Talbut. Because…well…Madeline is the “mean girl”, and I had every intention of keeping her that way.

Except as I went through the series, little tidbits popped up about her, and she ends up with a backstory that is pretty heartbreaking. I felt for her. I thought, “Well, perhaps she does deserve redemption.”

But I hadn’t any idea who her hero ought to be.

Then I wrote book 8 – THE EDITOR’S KISSES – and Carl Dawson, a sixteen-year-old, know-it-all who preferred a wandering life to getting hitched declared that he’d never settle down, least of all with someone like Madeline.

And that was it. THE PRINCESS’S KNIGHT was born.

I enjoyed messing up Carl’s plans, and I really enjoyed watching Madeline redeem herself. That was something I didn’t know if I could tackle correctly. I feel as if Madeline’s arc is well-done, but readers will have to tell me the truth!

THE PRINCESS'S KNIGHT

Pike’s Run, Texas, 1890

Carl Dawson finds himself in a Georgia prison with only one way out – get Madeline Talbut, the viperous ice princess and his childhood nemesis, home to Pike’s Run, or lose a year of his life in jail. He takes the deal and finds her playing hostess on a magnificent showboat.

Madeline Talbut has a past she’d like to forget, and she can do that while taking care of the guests aboard the Princess. But, as she sails the mighty Mississippi, a newcomer infiltrates her space, shaking up her heart, awakening the desire she’d thought dormant and reminding her that the past must be dealt with.

Carl learns there is more to Madeline than he’d once thought, and she’s becoming more important to him than he wants. But he must hide his identity from her, or she might not return to Texas and all the pain it holds. And, even worse, if she discovers who Carl really is, he might lose her. Forever.

THE PRINCESS'S KNIGHT: AN EXCERPT

“Miss Talbut has taken on all my duties aboard the Princess,” Mrs. Cole explained to Carl, “and I’m so grateful to her. And, as you can imagine, I can’t have anything happening to her.” She sniffed, then with care, she smoothed the hair at Madeline’s temple. “Tell me, Mr. Dawson, what do you do for a living?”

Not an odd question, but he felt it was going to lead somewhere. But what could he reveal without giving away who he was? He continued to sense it was better that Madeline not know his connection to her. At least, not yet. “I don’t have a profession. I travel, do odd jobs here and there.”

Mrs. Cole smiled at him. “And save damsels in distress everywhere you go, I bet.”

He’d aided ladies, yes, but not everywhere.

“I’m quite certain you’re nothing but a gentleman. A true knight,” Mrs. Cole remarked, while Madeline shifted uncomfortably.

“I try, ma’am,” Carl answered.

Mrs. Cole removed her hand from Madeline’s tightly linked fingers and leaned forward. “I have complete faith that you do, and I must ask for your assistance.” She gazed at him in earnest. “Would you watch over Miss Talbut for me? Be her protector while she carries out her duties?”

Well…damn it all. Relief poured through him. He glanced at Madeline again and saw her lips had pinched, and she looked ready to argue. But…she didn’t. Another revelation.

“I’ll pay you, of course, and it’s temporary. My husband will get better, and no one would dare harm Miss Talbut when he is present.” Mrs. Cole gave a sharp nod to emphasize her statement.

He studied Madeline for a brief second, realized she would abhor him guarding her. But did he have any other choice? “I’ll take the job.”

“Wonderful!” Mrs. Cole exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

Madeline looked ready to spit nails.

Well, he’d seen her tantrums. He could handle them.

PURCHASE THE PRINCESS'S KNIGHT

THE TEXAS BRIDES OF PIKE'S RUN SERIES

December Weddings Are Snowy White (Even in Texas) by Kara O'Neal

I should've gotten married in December. All these glorious, romantic Christmas movies just show how sweet a December love story can be.

If you're like me, you've spent a portion of your December watching these movies and sighing with heart eyes. My favorites are:

1) While You Were Sleeping

2) Last Holiday

3) White Christmas

4) The Holiday (but really just the Miles and Iris story)

and my newest favorite:

5) A Castle for Christmas (Cary Elwes is still getting it done)

I think that making wedding bells chime in December is not a new thing because.....

1) Our best friends got married in December.

2) My parents got married in December.

3) My husband's parents got married in December.

4) And my grandparents got married on Christmas Day. It was the only day my grandpa could get off from work.

So, honestly, for me, I'm wishing more people "Happy Anniversary" during the month of December than any other. (And I thought June was supposed to be the month? Maybe it is....)

Welp, whichever, I do think I like December weddings better than June ones. Because falling in love during the Advent and Christmas season seems so precious and bright and joyful and "snowflaky". (I just made that word up! Ha!)

I've got my own Christmas romance. I dedicated it to my grandparents because not only does it take place during Christmas -- which is when my grandma got married -- the heroine is a true lady. She's very accomplished in all things dealing with etiquette, and that reminds me of my grandmother and my grandma. They were ladies, tried and true. I miss them soooo much.

Here is a bit about THE CHRISTMAS BRIDE. Not only is it $0.99, but it placed third in the National Excellence in Story Telling contest.

THE CHRISTMAS BRIDE by Kara O'Neal

Truly Cunningham flees after her fiancé jilts her for her sister. With nowhere to go, she ends up in Pike’s Run, Texas, hiding in the town’s opulent Royal Hotel. As she nurses her pain, finding no comfort in the Christmas season, she is slowly running out of funds. She must find a way to support herself or return to Dallas where her sister is the wife Truly had planned to be.

 Alfred Taylor, manager of the Royal Hotel, hates Christmas. The decorations. The celebrations. The presents. All of it. And he must help the Ladies’ Auxiliary put on the Christmas Eve social. The only bright spot is the presence of a new guest, Truly Cunningham. She is beautiful, mysterious, and warming parts of his heart he thought dead.

 When Truly asks for a position in his hotel as hostess of the establishment, Alfred immediately hires her. Which becomes dangerous. He can’t stay away from her, and even worse, wants to spill his secrets. Will he lose his one chance at happiness, or will Christmas finally give him the hope it promises?

EXCERPT: THE CHRISTMAS BRIDE

Did he need her?

Yes.

Hell, yes.

But he wasn’t going to pursue her. She probably still loved the ass in the dining room, and Alfred had innocent blood on his hands. She deserved someone far better than him.

He led her into the office. “I wanted to give you the menu and plans for the dance. The Auxiliary, which is headed by Katherine Talbut, made an outline of everything.” He tugged open the top, right-hand drawer and withdrew three sheets of paper. He held them out to Miss Cunningham.

She took them, interest on her face.

He watched her peruse the items listed and wished he knew her well enough to determine what she thought of their ideas. Would she want to change anything? He hoped not. Not that he cared, but that would put her on the wrong foot with those ladies.

“It appears they’re making all the centerpieces,” she murmured. “I should probably call a meeting to introduce myself and see if they need my help.”

He put his hands in his pockets. “Whatever you prefer.”

She looked up. “Where can I find Mrs. Talbut?”

“I can take you over. I have time.”

Her brow furrowed. “I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble. Can you fetch your coat? We can walk over.”

She nodded then left the office.

He waited for her in the foyer, leaning an elbow against the registration desk. The Cunningham family appeared from the dining room, wearing sour and troubled expressions. Mr. Cunningham stopped and considered Alfred.

“Are you the man who hired my daughter?”

Alfred chose not to play dumb. “I am. We’re grateful she’s going to be handling our events.”

Mr. Cunningham shook his head. “I’ll not have this. She’ll return with us in the morning. I’m afraid you’ll have to find someone else.”

The ass who jilted her smirked.

“Something funny?” Alfred questioned.

But the sister stepped forward. “We can’t understand any of this. She needs to come home, and—”

“Missy,” her father warned.

Missy. Alfred smoothed his beard to smother his laugh. He straightened and sobered. “Mr. Cunningham, I didn’t intend to get in the way of family business and would appreciate it if you left me out of it. She offered her services. I accepted because we need the help, and she’s obviously skilled. In fact, we’re on our way to meet the leader of the Auxiliary.”

At that moment, Miss Cunningham came down the stairs, bundled for the cold. “Is there a problem?”

Alfred shook his head. “Are you ready?”

As she passed her family, she smiled at him. “I am. I have the lists, as well.”

And because he wanted to aggravate the ass, he offered his arm to her. When she took it, he pulled her next to him as tightly as he could without alarming her.

She snuggled up to him. Did she understand he wanted to needle her former fiancé, or was she taking pleasure in being near him?

Hell. He hoped it was both.

PURCHASE THE CHRISTMAS BRIDE

Interested in more of the TEXAS BRIDES OF PIKE'S RUN? Click HERE to see the rest of the series and for links to purchase! You can never have too many books!

Giving Thanks by Kara ONeal

I feel bad for Thanksgiving. It finishes pretty quickly compared to some of the other holidays. While it might be cliché, or seem silly to state the obvious, it's beautiful that there is a day set aside for food, rest and gratitude. I wish it lasted longer. And, you know, it can if we remember the spirit of it as we go forward.

Before I delve into my list of what I appreciate, I first want to ask that we pray for, or think about, those who don't have the opportunity to celebrate this season and want to. Or wish they could. This is just another reason to be grateful, to count your blessings and not take anything for granted.

And here is what I'm counting:

1) God, His Son, and the Holy Spirit
2) Mary

3) My family
4) My friends

And not necessarily in this order, but also:

5) These books

6) The way books smell

7) When Mr. Darcy proposes to Lizzie

8) When Jim and Dwight have to plan a party together

9) When Emma Swan tells Captain Killian Jones that he can't handle it

10) When Anne smashes her slate over Gilbert's head

11) All things Texan: bluebonnets, our historical markers, the Alamo, the brisket, the tacos, the kolaches, the MUSIC, the word "friend", the spirit, the Baylor Ruins, the Antique Rose Emporium, Blue Bell Ice Cream, the sports we play, the art we make, Prasek's, floating, the speed limit, and so, so, so much more

12) Brookwood

13) "Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya."

14) The stuff Rachel giggles about and plays

15) The stuff Jake sings and draws

16) The stuff Noah says and draws

17) The end of "Amarillo By Morning" and the whole song actually

18) Musicals -- especially Meet Me In St. Louis and Singing In The Rain

19) Jane Austen

20) the Dyson vacuum

21) When Chuck says, "Guys, I know Kung Fu."

22) Dorothy, Blanche, Sophia, and Rose

23) When Captain Steve Rogers picks up Thor's hammer

24) When Falcon says, "On your left."

25) When Edward kneels down

26) Ireland -- Let me say that one again. IRELAND.

27) Fiddles and cellos

28) Fairy tales

29) When Flynn Rider climbs the tower

30) When Brenda Lee says, "You first."

31) Libraries and librarians

32) Pocket rosaries

33) Keeping score at a baseball game at Minute Maid Park

34) The number seven

35) Wildflowers. As far as the eye can see. God bless Texas.

And last....but NOT least.....

The TEXAS BRIDES OF PIKE'S RUN series. 

It's my series, my baby, and it's filled with characters that will make you laugh, cry and sigh in contented wonder. God bless writing, God bless authors, and God bless books!!!!!

Harvest Time and #GTT by @JacquieRogers

 Harvest Time and... #GTT

by Jacquie Rogers

This is such a busy time for me!  Besides keeping up with my regular chores, there's the fall harvest.  And boy howdy, did we ever get a LOT of produce!  Right now, I have delicious red-ripe tomatoes everywhere I look.  Green ones, too.  

I'm saving this beauty for a BLT in the morning!
Makes me drool just looking at it.

We'll only get another week, maybe two, until it frosts here in SW Idaho, so I'll have to figure out how all these durn maters are gonna get processed.  So far, my daughter and I have canned tomatoes plain, and we've also canned them with Indian butter chicken flavor, chili flavor, stewed tomatoes, and tomato juice.  We've canned lots of salsa, too--mild and hot.  We never seem to manage to hit the medium mark. Hahaha.

Mostly plain tomatoes and chili mix in 
the latest batches.

Right next to the boxes of jars is the dehydrator.  It's brand new, and believe it or not, I've never dehydrated veggies before.  I've dried herbs in my toaster oven but that's about it.  My daughter suggested that I could dehydrate veggies and make my own soup mix to take with us when we travel.  Good idea--throw some meat, broth, and dried veggies in the Instant Pot and voila! Soup.  The bags of veggies would be less bulky and weigh far less then canned goods, so I'm going to give her suggestion a go.  We do have to pay attention to weight in our new Casita (which we've named Tillie the Tank).

Only the peppers were grown in the garden, 
we bought the carrots and celery.

All this while Mr R is still working on the kitchen remodel (it's now officially a year into this project--we don't call him Mr. Speedy for nothing).  The latest accomplishment...okay, so it's not done yet but is functional...is the oven/coffee center.

Top left is the microwave and under that, the Advantium 240v oven.
The right side is the coffee center.
Mr. R is still working on the cabinet, obviously.  In case you're wondering,
the drawers will be painted purple and orange. 
I like color.

Meantime, I thought you might like to know what it's like to stare at a screen with only 70-80,000 words left to write.

The writers who see this will know exactly what this means. LOL.

So what's #GTT?

Well, in the olden days Southerners often had to give up their property and a lot of them headed to Texas, so they'd write GTT on the door or gatepost and leave.  Later, GTT was used for an outlaw who was on the lam--they'd Gone To Texas.  Didn't matter where they actually went, people still said they'd GTT.

And we're headed to Texas in a few weeks, so #GTT.  We're not outlaws but we'll be visiting some pretty dicey characters, among them the famous author Caroline Clemmons.  That woman has a wicked sense of humor and keeps me laughing so this is gonna be a ton of fun, for sure.  We'll see how patient Mr R and Hero are with us.  Throw in their daughters, and we know for certain we'll have a very, very lively and entertaining week.  Oh yeah.

Stovetop oven in our dinky Casita travel trailer.

I'm really excited to have an RV this trip.  I have food allergies so we needed a place where I can cook my own food.  It's never fun when you stop by a burger joint and they try to poison you.  The Casita is a dinky little fiberglass travel trailer, but we can cook, poop, and sleep in it so I'm happy.

After we leave Caroline's house, we'll be headed to Arizona to see my longtime buddy Ann Charles.  She's always a hoot, and I'm looking forward to visiting with her and her crazy family.

I guess I better get some words on the page before someone starts throwing rotten tomatoes at me.

Until next month, Happy Reading!

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Keep up with Jacquie Rogers' latest news at the

Pickle Barrel Gazette!
Honey Beaulieu - Man Hunter series
Hearts of Owyhee series