GIVING MORE THANKS

by Judy Ann Davis

Thanksgiving has come and gone. We have so much to be thankful for in the United States that I thought I would just re-post a poem I always loved at this time of the year. It’s by an unknown artist. 

I hope everyone had an enjoyable Thanksgiving with friends and family. My husband and I usually spend the day cooking together. Both our sons live too far away (Alaska and S.C.) to join us for only a short time. We do try to sneak in a Skype meeting sometime during the day to converse with them and the little ones. If anyone is traveling this weekend I wish you a safe journey home. 

Let’s also hold those who are fighting for their freedoms around the world in our hearts, minds, and prayers. Freedoms are precious desires and needs and are essential in all our lives.

 Giving Thanks - Author Unknown

For the hay and the corn and the wheat that is reaped,
For the labor well done, and the barns that are heaped,
For the sun and the dew and the sweet honeycomb,
For the rose and the song and the harvest brought home -
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!

For the trade and the skill and the wealth in our land,
For the cunning and strength of the workingman's hand,
For the good that our artists and poets have taught,
For the friendship that hope and affection have brought -
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!

For the homes that with purest affection are blest,
For the season of plenty and well-deserved rest,
For our country extending from sea unto sea;
The land that is known as the "Land of the Free" -
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!

 

NEW - NEW - NEW     

COURTING BETSY -Book 3 of the Ashomore Brothers Series

  

                          VISIT MY AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE FOR ALL MY BOOKS 

 

Our Christmas Feast by Kara O'Neal

I'm so excited to finally share this! I've been waiting for this final day in November to tell y'all all about our Christmas feast.

It's a wonderful Christmas tradition. The first weekend in December we pull out the Christmas decorations -- we have A LOT -- so we can trim the tree and the house.

While the kids and my Prince Charming put everything out, I cook. I make all kinds of appetizers and finger foods. I use all my best and cute party platters, and our table is FULL of food. We eat for days after, which is just another great thing about it.

We listen to Christmas music, and the kids get all excited about each ornament they pull out and hang up. It's wonderful.

Y'all should know that I spend about 5 hours in the kitchen. My feet and back kill me by the time I'm done, but it's soooo worth it. I wouldn't trade it at all. The menu consists of:

1) Deviled eggs -- a riot ensues if I don't make these
2) Pigs in a blanket
3) Cheese tray
4) Cream cheese with jalapeno jelly
5) Jalapeno poppers
6) Pizza rolls
7) Parmesan crusted chicken tenders
8) Stuffed mushrooms
9) Veggies and dip
10) Egg rolls
11) Cookies galore
12) Taco sticks
13) Apples and a fruit dip
14) Pot stickers
15) Queso
16) Salsa

It's a lot. But it's sooooo great.

Once everything is done, we fill our plates and watch Home Alone. And the kids still giggle. They're 22, 20 and 16 now, but it doesn't matter. They love every bit of this day, and we have every intention of continuing it even after they're grown and gone. My daughter has started to help me with cooking, and she does a great job. When she helps, it only takes three hours. I sure wish I had two ovens, though. That's for the next house, I guess.

Here's a little look into what it's like for us. The kids are younger in this video.

It's traditions like these that make it easy for me to write like I do. The best thing about my books is the family feel in them. I think it's become a trademark for me, because my readers remark on it often.


I'm glad I can evoke homey feelings in my stories. Hopefully it shows the love I have for my family and friends, and gives readers a sense of what life is all about.

What reminds you of family? What do you look forward to -- it doesn't have to be a Christmas tradition. Let us know!

VISIT KARA O'NEAL

TEXAS BRIDES OF PIKE'S RUN SERIES

GAMBLERS & GUNSLINGERS SERIES

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

This Life by Kara O'Neal

At night, when I pray, I start by thanking God for all the good things in my life. 

He's blessed me so many times over -- my family is in good health, we have what we need, my children are happy, my husband and I have stable jobs, we have wonderful friends...

But over the last several years, I've also thanked Him for the peace He has given us. And that would not have been possible if others hadn't made the ultimate sacrifice. There are even soldiers out there right now keeping us safe. Even the Ukrainian men and women who are fighting daily are doing it for more than just their own kin.

And here I sit, peaceful, writing this post to share with y'all.

I'm glad we have this day where we can remember and honor those who have fallen. It grounds us, makes us acknowledge that there are things more important than the next television series or Marvel movie. (Although, my cousin who is a veteran would scold me and say, "Kara, we fight for your ability to enjoy your life without fear. So enjoy it and don't feel guilty.")

He's right. I know it.

So...yes. I will spend time with my family. We will play cards, and we will eat good food and be silly together. And we will give thanks to the soldiers.

And....I will make Apple Butter today! (For those of you who don't know, it's a kind of jelly.)

Now, it's not apple pie -- and I do make a glorious apple pie -- but it's the next best thing. Apple Butter is a staple in my father's family. My grandpa loved it and always had butter and jelly on the table at EVERY meal. 

So, today I will be up to my elbows in apple peelings, sugar, maple syrup and a few other ingredients. And I will be singing this lovely poem I made up many, many, many years ago...

Oh, apple butter. 

Oh, how I love you.
Your apple cinnamony sweetness gives happiness so true.

The way you melt with peanut butter is so fine,
I cannot wait until you get in that mouth of mine.

When I see you sittin' on my grandma's table,
my stomach growls and is unstable.

Until I can spread you on a biscuit so fluffy,
my temperament is terrible and I'm a little huffy.

Oh, apple butter.
Oh, how I love you.

Thank you for the sweetness that always rings true.

Visit Kara O'Neal at www.karaoneal.com

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

Why I Wrote Katie's Gamble by Kara O'Neal

I’m excited to introduce y’all to the first book in my Gamblers and Gunslingers series – KATIE’S GAMBLE.

This series was born while I was writing MAGGIE’S SONG, which is book thirteen in my Texas Brides series.

You see, I do this thing where I fall in love with secondary characters. I can’t help it. Once a picture forms in my mind, a story usually follows. And then I just have to write it. Even if the character is a villain.

During MAGGIE’S SONG, I met Rowdy Denton. Gambler. Gunslinger. Collector of debts. And he had no give in him.

But somehow I felt that underneath the harshness beat a heart of gold. And I had to find out why.

And that’s how KATIE’S GAMBLE came to be.

Rowdy Denton meets Katie McCord, the sister of his boss, notorious gambler and unfeeling rogue, Johnny McCord. Rowdy ends up having to protect Katie, and while he does his level best not to fall for her, he loses the battle.

I adored giving Rowdy his happy ending, looking through the walls he tried to erect and saving him from being a villain forever. He gets a family. And everything else he could ever want. It’s just so beautiful that I dare you not to cry at the end!

KATIE'S GAMBLE

Katie McCord bears much weight on her shoulders–single-handedly running her family’s business, McCord’s Confectionery, and caring for her three younger siblings. And her little shop is in trouble, which forces her to seek help from her brother, Johnny McCord, a notorious gambler living in New Orleans, or lose everything.

 Rowdy Denton might be a gambler working for Johnny McCord, but one look at Katie’s sweet innocence tugs at the ache and guilt in his heart. For his peace of mind, he’s determined to get her out of the opulent hotel and brothel kept by her brother and back to the little town in Texas where she belongs—far away from Rowdy.

 When Johnny refuses to sell his share to Katie, he sends Rowdy to her hometown to cause her further trouble. But, instead, Rowdy finds himself working as her hired hand and helping her keep everything together.

 Katie knows Rowdy has another purpose for being in Echols. He works for her brother, after all, and is a gambler himself. So, why is he helping her? When she discovers the answer to her question, she races back to New Orleans, prepared to make the biggest gamble of her life.

KATIE'S GAMBLE: EXCERPT

Katie McCord paced the space in front of one of the settees, her hands on her hips. Perhaps she could find Johnny herself. She eyed the corridor on the opposite side of the lobby and tried to gather her courage.

While the possible consequences of her hunt played through her mind, a man in a long, black coat, dark green brocade vest, and black trousers entered. He removed his gambler’s hat, and his coat stretched with the movement, revealing the gun belt riding low along his hips.

His dark brown hair fell over his forehead as he paused a moment in the center of the rug to dust off his hat.

He had a strong jaw, broad shoulders, and had to be over six feet. He wore a serious expression, instead of the jovial, eager one the other patrons exuded. An energy rolled off of him, as if nothing ever missed his notice, as if he were aware of his entire surroundings, though he hadn’t even assessed the space.

She lowered her arms and bit her lip. She’d made the wrong choice, coming here. A letter might have sufficed, as Mr. Cummings had suggested. She had no idea how to handle the environment in which she had placed herself.

The man looked up, his gaze going directly to her.

She held herself still, afraid to move should any twitch make him want to approach her.

Slowly, he let his eyes travel the length of her, and when his attention returned to her face, his expression was unreadable. But somehow she knew her presence irritated him.

He turned away and sauntered to the desk. He spoke in low tones to the lobby attendant, and Katie saw the newcomer’s shoulders tense at the attendant’s answers to his questions. He then glanced over at her, and his eyes narrowed.

After saying a few more words to the attendant, the man turned on a heel and strode toward her.

Frightened, she backed up, and her legs bumped into the edge of the settee.

“Miss McCord?” he asked, his voice hard and gruff.

“Y-Yes. I’m Katie McCord.”

He jerked his head at the doors. “You need to go.”

She gulped and curled her hands into fists. “I need to speak with my brother.”

The fellow shook his head. “No. And this is not a place for a lady like you. You need to go before it’s too late.”

Was he concerned about her safety? If so, then the best thing would be for him to let her see Johnny. “I would like nothing more than to leave, sir, but I can’t until I talk with my brother.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “That’s not gonna happen. Best to give up.”

The thought of what she might lose if she left here without Johnny’s half of the confectionery drew her up. She lifted her chin. “I can’t afford to. Do you know where he is?”

He didn’t reply, only watched her with a hard glint.

“Please, take me to him. I can’t stress the importance enough.”

That muscle jumped again. “I’m sure you have your reasons, but McCord won’t see you.”

His flat statement punched her in the stomach, and she felt panic rising within her. “He can’t ignore me. Please.”

Something flashed behind the rigid light in his eyes, but it disappeared so quickly that she had no time to determine what it was. “Miss McCord, I suggest you leave before the evening crowd arrives. Find yourself a safer hotel or return to your home.”

Anger flared. “My home is in Texas. It was once Johnny’s, and he has been neglectful. I’m here to discuss personal matters with him so that I can continue providing for myself and our siblings.”

The gambler, and probably gunslinger, rolled his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he studied her in silence.

After a few, quiet moments, during which she refused to fidget, he finally said, “He won’t listen, won’t care. It’s best that you just go and find an alternate way to take care of your kin.” His gaze swept over her once more. “Get married. That ought to do it.”

She let out a frustrated exhale. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, and I demand that you take me to my brother or send him out here to me.”

One corner of his mouth quirked. “Finding your backbone, huh?”

She set her jaw, sensing if she said more, she’d only end up giving him a laugh.

He shook his head. “The McCord temper might run in your veins, but this is no place for a woman like you. Heed me and go home.” With that, he turned around and strode toward the hall on the opposite side of the lobby.

PURCHASE KATIE'S GAMBLE

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!!!!!

COASTING INTO FALL!

By Caroline Clemmons

We’ve survived summer, and we’re coasting toward fall. In North Central Texas, summer lasts through September and sometimes into October. August usually brings our hottest temperatures. Fortunately, this year was kinder.

My family recalls 1980, a year we had so many consecutive days over 100 degrees F that many people got the T-shirt touting they’d survived. We had guests from Tampa, Florida on a day that was 113 degrees. One of the sons asked, “Why do you live here?”

Hmm, at the time I didn’t have a good answer. I still can’t explain it except to say, “It’s a Texas thang.” We’ve lived in other states—California and Florida. Both are lovely places with many benefits and attractions. But, we always come “home” to Texas. But I digress.

Fall is my favorite season. Mother Nature paints most trees lovely shades of gold, orange, and red. Our weather becomes bearable so we can enjoy being outside.

In fall, we pick up the anticipation of the approaching holidays. Indeed, from now until December 24, I’m filled with plans and happiness. You see, I’m a Christmas-aholic. I’m not being irreverent, because I’m a devout Christian who reveres the “reason for the season.”

At the same time, I love the joy of giving gifts to those we love and to those in need. Don’t you giggle inside with anticipation of how pleased a loved one will be with what you’ve chosen? I do. Of course, we don’t always see the loved one or friend open the gift, but we have a good imagination.

A friend and I enjoy choosing names from an Angel tree and try to get those in the same family. That way we’re assured that each child’s gifts will be similar—at least in value. Again, we laugh inside when we imagine the happiness each child will feel.

I treasure all the decorations. I’m not alone—some people leave their tree up all year. A week or so before Christmas, Darling Daughter 2 and I drive around to look at the lights. We ooh and aah at the elaborately decorated homes.

Before then, there’re Halloween and Thanksgiving.

I’m amazed that Halloween has become as big on decorations as Christmas. The knowledge makes me a little sad because it means Christmas is less special to those people. But, I suppose it’s all in fun.

Thanksgiving is not a huge holiday at our house. We try to be thankful all year, so one day of thanks seems contradictory. Still, we get together for a special meal. Being together is a reason to be thankful.

Fall arrives officially in a few weeks. Do you welcome the change or long for summer weather all year?

Life changes quickly as it speeds by. Enjoy each day! 

COMPETING FOR A COWBOY

 

Sunday, May 20, 2018

Competing For A Cowboy -- Sibling Rivalry

by 

Laurean Brooks

Hello out there, fans of Smart Girls Read Romance blog. I've given considerable thought to what to post this month and finally settled on a topic.  Because it's May, and my favorite TV cowboy will celebrate his birthday on May 30^th,  I decided to devote this blog post to him.

Since heart-throb Clint Walker, better known as Cheyenne, arrived on the screen in 1963, my heart has never been quite the same. My sister Jewell and I fought over this handsome, lanky, and muscular cowboy. Every fall, Jewell and I watched for the premieres of new TV Westerns. We would watch the first shows then decide who got to claim which cowboy. We divvied them up equally. This method worked out well with Bonanza, The Virginian, and the other Westerns.

Until . . .Cheyenne Bodie trotted in on a stallion, flashing his crooked grin right at me (Jewell insists he was grinning at her). Alas, our carefully made-up rules flew out the window. One look at this cowboy brought out the competitive spirit in two normally agreeable sisters. Neither of us gave in. When I yelled, “He's mine, I saw him first!” she would yell back, “No, I saw him first!” (Not.)

After weeks of debate that did nothing to settle the matter, we knew the only option was to share Cheyenne. At night, after everyone was in bed, we lay awake in our twin beds and took turns imagining scenarios then relating them, about life in the mid-1800s and our respective courtship with Cheyenne Bodie. Usually, we incorporated silly scenes that sent us both into hysterics.

The trouble was, Mama was a light sleeper. If her bedroom had been anywhere but across the hall, our giggles wouldn't have awakened her. But, with our luck, that's exactly what happened.

She'd yell from her bed, “If you girls don't quieten down and go to sleep, I'm coming in there. And you are NOT going to like it!”

I hate to admit this, but a couple of times she did march across the hall. When she stood over us, between our beds,  pointing her finger at us, we pretended to be fast asleep. It saved us, but my heart beat so loud I was sure she heard it. After, “Okay, this is your last warning!” she swept out of our room and back to hers. Out of sheer terror, we shut our mouths and willed ourselves to fall asleep.

Clint Walker will turn ninety this month. I can't believe how fast the time has flown. I still have the glossy picture of him (from his fan club) in a billfold I carried through junior high. It's even autographed, “Best Wishes.” And for what it's worth, Jewell does NOT have his picture.

Eat your heart out, Sis.

I hope you enjoyed this post. If you did, please leave a comment and tell us who your favorite heart-throb was. Some of us were born decades later, so we will have varying ideas on which guys made the list. Still, 'm sure our blog readers would love to compare our crushes with theirs.

                                            ****************************************

If you enjoy a romance with multi-faceted characters who get themselves into  humorous situations, along with an intriguing plot, BENEATH A MACON MOON is the story for you. 

Click on link below.

https://www.amazon.com/Beneath-Macon-Moon-Laurean-Brooks-ebook/dp/B00UZXUL88/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top?ie=UTF8

When Jaela Andrews learns distressing news, she packs her bags and heads to Macon. But if she thinks she will find solitude and a quiet place to rethink her life in the Victorian home, she is wrong. 

Enter Eric Larsen, the Handyman, who is renovating Jaela's refuge. Sparks fly over the noisy tools. And who could guess the hilarious situations they fall into? You will laugh, you will cry.

Can a rich girl find common ground with a simple carpenter? The chemistry and attraction are strong, but is their mutual love enough to make it work?