Felicity's Fortune: Award Winner!

I'm so pleased to tell y'all that FELICITY'S FORTUNE won best Historical Romance in the N. N. Light Book Awards. It's such a wonderful Christmas present! Felicity and Butch went up against around 1,000 other stories and they came out as winners!

I'm truly humbled and feel so blessed that I get to do what I love. And to learn that characters I love so much are loved by others is why I write. To me, characters are real people. That's probably because they come from real people. Felicity's story is certainly based off a real person....

When we visited St. Joseph, Missouri, we had to stop at Jesse James’ house. While I was walking through those rooms, I wondered about his wife.

She’d set up a house, cooked meals, raised children…and her husband was an outlaw. She knew what he was, and that surprised me. Of course, who knew how she felt about his choices, and I’m sure it was hard to leave him since she loved him.

But I thought…what if she hadn’t known? What if a woman had married a man who was an outlaw, and she discovered it…

And turned him in.

So…FELICITY’S FORTUNE was born.

I had to give her a mighty hero, and Butch Wilder grew in my mind’s eye. And he’s a good one. He had to be a little sinful, though, but he’s got a big, big, big heart!

I loved writing this story. Felicity’s daughters are the cutest little things.

I also enjoyed sending Felicity to Hell’s Half Acre, because God bless Texas, but that place was scary. It belonged in a book.

And now, Felicity and Butch have established themselves as winners. They are very deserving, let me tell you.

Are there any other figures from history that should have their stories re-imagined? Or do you have any books to share that have already told the events of someone from the past? Share that with us by commenting below!

FELICITY'S FORTUNE

Gamblers & Gunslingers
Historical Romance
​
Felicity Capwell Archer had no idea she'd married a thief and a killer. And even though she's the one who turns him in, people still think she helped her former husband steal and is now hiding the money. To protect herself from the repercussions and attacks, she hires Butch Wilder. Gambler. Gunslinger. And a giant who hides a heart of gold.

Butch Wilder grew up on the streets of New Orleans, learning how to fight, how to gamble and how to use a Colt .45 with deadly precision. When Felicity begs him to protect her family, she's too damned pretty and too intriguing to turn down. Determined to avoid any emotional attachments and to keep it purely professional, Butch takes the job. But he finds himself sitting down to nice meals, walking her children to school and being part of a family for the first time.

Only by finding and returning the stolen loot can Felicity and her daughters ever truly be safe. Following clues she deciphers from her former husband’s letters, Felicity and Butch travel to the outlaw-infested Hell's Half Acre. It's madness, but Butch will do anything to protect Felicity. Even if it means his life.

FELICITY'S FORTUNE: AN EXCERPT

When Butch reached Rickman’s office, he tried to see through the windows to the inside, but the grimy panes allowed for nothing. Cautious but unafraid, he walked in without hesitation.

But when he found who had come calling, he about swallowed his tongue. He stopped short, his hand on the knob, his mind devoid of all thought.

“Are you Mr. Wilder?”

Her honey voice poured through him, grabbing hold of his senses.

She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt your work, sir, but I’m looking for Mr. Butch Wilder. Are you he?”

Snap out of it, man! Butch blinked then cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Yes. I’m Butch Wilder.” He shut the door.

She looked him over.

He steeled himself against the fear he might see in her eyes due to his size, but when her gaze touched his face, what he found was desperation. Confused and a little nervous, he wrapped his thumbs around his suspenders.

“Do you know who I am?”

Would it upset her if he did? But he couldn’t lie to her. Somehow she’d know if he did. “Yes.”

She twitched her lips as if frustrated by her infamy. He couldn’t blame her.

After letting out a slow exhale, she said, “My home, and by that I really refer to my children, my housekeeper and myself, has been under attack since my former husband was arrested and tried.”

So…she had gotten divorced. Or was it an annulment? He stayed quiet, not knowing what she wanted or if he was allowed to respond.

“We need constant protection until this is settled.” She waved a hand in the air. “Until either the…the hanging or…” She paused, and her gaze went distant.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. What bothered her? The event she hadn’t mentioned or the hanging?

She shook her head. “I apologize. The last weeks have been rather harrowing.”

He could imagine. From the arrest, to the trial, to now…

A portion of what she’d said registered in his mind. “I’m sorry, ma’am. But why are you here? You mentioned…protection?” Hell. Was she going to ask him to…

“Yes. The sheriff’s office can’t provide anyone, so he suggested I hire you.”

Butch’s mind whirled with the implications.

“I will pay you well, plus meals, because I would prefer it if you moved into my home. People come at all times of the day and night. I’m fearful of what has occurred in my absence for the last few hours.” She pressed two fingers to her temple and rubbed. “Not that I can do anything about it,” she muttered. She let out a weary exhale.

While she struggled with exhaustion, he tried to make sense of what she was offering. It was ridiculous. Him? Butch Wilder? Protect her? And her family?

Hell. That was damned laughable.

PURCHASE FELICITY'S FORTUNE

GAMBLERS & GUNSLINGERS

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

My Favorite "True Love's Kiss" Moments by Kara O'Neal

One of my favorite moments in a story is when the hero or heroine kisses his or her true love and the curse breaks. It's such a wonderful thought, that love is strong enough to cure any ill.

For me, it's more than a thought, though. It's a belief. Love has the ability to soothe any villain, comfort the grieving, and liberate the oppressed.

And, of course, I have a few favorite true love moments....

1) When Emma Swan kisses Henry, her son, and wakes him from the sleeping curse in Once Upon A Time.

2) When Prince Philip kisses Sleeping Beauty and wakes her from the sleeping curse.

3) When Wesley and Buttercup kiss at the end of The Princess Bride.

4) When Emma Swan and Captain Killian "Hook" Jones triumph in the ultimate true love test in Once Upon A Time.















And last....

5) When Stephen Dawson kisses Constance Forrester for the first time in The Editor's Kisses. (Unfortunately, I don't have a picture of this. Because this is from one of my books!)

Yes, #5 is one of my own, and while there isn't anything literally magical about it, it does wake up Stephen and he's able to unchain himself from the toxic control another woman had over him. It was absolutely beautiful how it worked out, and even though you can't see it happen, you can read it...

Scene: The parlor of the Talbut home

Problem #1: An embarrassing parlor game – being locked in a broom closet with a member of the opposite sex

Problem #2: Stephen and Constance are in a fake courtship – Stephen is trying to make someone jealous and Constance gets to be a reporter for his paper

And now...a beautiful "true love's kiss" moment...

Madeline’s spinning of Constance was a little rough, but Stephen held his tongue. When their hostess let go, Constance fumbled for a moment before Stephen raised himself up and yanked her into his lap.

The shouts of excitement and delight that went around the room nearly deafened him. People playfully called out “cheater”, but Stephen didn’t care, especially when Constance whisked off her mask and looked immensely relieved to see he’d successfully caught her.

They headed to the closet without fuss. Constance almost looked as if she was dying to climb inside. She probably wanted to get the farce over with.

Once they were squeezed into the confining space, with their chests pressed together in a way Stephen had only fantasized about, she said, “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done—”

He covered her mouth with his hand, having dislodged it from his side. Then he leaned near her ear. “They might be able to hear us,” he whispered.

She flinched.

He lowered his arm, and she let out a slow breath. He wished he could see her face. For more reasons than to satisfy his worry she was all right.

He did everything he could to ignore the touch of her body along his front. He tried not to remember how she looked, how her eyes lit up, how her expression sharpened when she was interested in something. Why had he watched her all night?

But he knew. He knew very well. She was captivating. Intriguing. And so damned lovely.

Why was he having feelings for her? Wasn’t his love for Madeline strong enough to withstand attraction for another woman? But if it was, he would be in the closet with his hostess and not the lady he pretended to the world held his fancy.

He had to kiss her. He had to discover if this attachment was real. Besides, if he didn’t kiss her, everyone would wonder why. And for some strange reason, he needed every fellow out there to understand Constance Forrester was his. He closed his eyes and realized his attitude was no better than a caveman’s. But the need to possess and brand raced through him without pause, and he couldn’t fathom how to check it. Except to kiss her and get her out of his system once and for all.

“Constance,” he uttered. “I’m gonna kiss you.”

She flinched again.

“I won’t hurt you, I swear it. But if I don’t kiss you…they’ll all question us and our…attachment.” He was an ass. He was using their agreement to coax her into acquiescence, and while he knew it, and was ashamed of it, he continued. “It will only be for a second. I’ll just brush my lips with yours.”

In the darkness, he felt her slight nod against his chin. His heart pounded at her quiet surrender.

When she pulled back as far as the space would allow and lifted her head to his, heat slashed through him. He’d never needed a kiss as much as he needed hers.

Madeline had kissed him. Once. Behind the schoolhouse when they were sixteen. And that moment hadn’t caused nearly the anticipation this one did.

He lowered his head and swallowed her gasp. It wasn’t a brush, even though he only set his lips on hers. It was a fire. A shot of whiskey that whipped through him and pooled in his gut. He deepened the connection, and she let him, sighing and sinking into him despite already being as close to him as he could get her.

He melted. He needed to move to the ground and cover her, press her down and make her his. He used his tongue, tasting her. She capitulated instantly and opened her mouth under his. He took what she allowed without hesitation as his free hand came up to grip her waist.

The damn closet was too small. His left hand was wedged between her side and the slender door. But though he couldn’t get his arms around her, he didn’t stop the kiss. It went on and on, stealing his breath, tightening his chest and making him doubt everything he’d ever known about his heart.

Rapid footsteps had him surging backward, and he knocked his head on the wall.

The door flew open, and cool air blasted his cheeks. He and Constance fell out of the space, their limbs tangling as they tried to right themselves.

Peals of laughter rung around them as Stephen reached out a hand to balance her. She latched on as if she didn’t want to let go, and his muscles vibrated with hope she had enjoyed the moment as he had.

It had taken less than a few seconds for him to realize kissing her had been the wrong thing to do. But also the most right, most perfect, most sound judgement he’d ever made in his life.

As those who’d crowded around the entrance to the kitchen went roaring with laughter back into the parlor, he gazed at Constance. And his world tilted.

Her flushed cheeks and bright eyes made his heart constrict with an emotion he was too afraid to name at the moment. But he knew what it was. He knew.

How in the devil had it happened? Was he a fool? A fickle man?

He swallowed. “Do you want to leave?”

And before his eyes, he witnessed a transformation that set his blood on fire. Determination changed her expression, and she lifted her chin.

“Certainly not. I’m quite all right, I assure you.” She gave a shake to her skirts. “We’ve a job to do, Stephen Dawson, and I’ll not let you down.”

She exited the kitchen with a swirl of satin, and he followed with less sure steps. She wouldn’t let him down, he knew it. But he feared he might disappoint her, for if she knew the direction of his thoughts, she would never forgive him. Constance Forrester had no time for any man. She had plans. Plans that didn’t include caring for the heart of the newspaper editor.

TEXAS BRIDES OF PIKE'S RUN SERIES

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

Summer Dates and Summer Nights by Kara O'Neal

My husband and I celebrated our 24th anniversary this month. I told him that I wanted to ride the ferris wheel with him, so we traveled to Kemah. It's a gulfside town in Houston. They have a boardwalk and rides and shops...all the things you would need to have a day of summer fun!

This is us at the top of the ferris wheel and there's a Texas sunset behind us. We had a lot of fun.

My husband is absolutely my prince charming, and I'm so glad I get to do life with him! He's steady and strong, and always so very patient. I've never met someone who's more patient than my husband.

He's quite talented, too. He's an artist. My hallway is covered with his artwork -- and our children's -- and my cupboards are filled with pottery he's made.

I'm always amazed by how he sees things. He looks at objects very differently and pulls out nuances that I hadn't noticed. When we visit art galleries, he's able to explain why a Jackson Pollock painting is worth so much. (And I think that's quite a feat!)

And, of course, he's designed my book covers for me. (And always with a smile on his face no matter how hard it was.) Here they are.....

They're like a rainbow, huh?

I could talk forever about my husband. About all the little facts he harbors, his never-ending knowledge about history and the presidents, his jokes and his athletic ability. But I won't.

Instead, I'll end with saying that I love my hero, my prince charming, my reason for living and my inspiration for the romances I write. Thank you, honey....I'll love you for forever.

KARA O'NEAL

LOVE & LONE STARS

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

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

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

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!