I'm a Sucker for Lawmen, by Paty Jager

Peggy, Thank you for exchanging blogs with me today. I’m excited to be in an 

anthology with so many talented authors.

When the subject was brought up, by the western romance authors on the Amazon forum started by an avid western reader, that we should make an anthology, I was ready to hop on board. Any time so many talented writers put together a sampling of their work is has to turn out as a win/win. Readers get great reads in one book and 

authors can cross promote.

The only catch—I couldn’t think of what to write. Then the very same avid reader who brought us together on the forum tossed out one of her monthly challenges to write a paragraph or more using five words. Marshal, Preacher, School Teacher, 

Undertaker, and Baker.

I was in the middle of two other projects but the more I thought about those words the opening for my short story, Bluffing the Marshal, came to me:

Nellie Preston stood at the top of the family cellar gnawing her bottom lip. What would Pa do when he discovered she had the preacher, school teacher, undertaker, and baker tied up in the cellar? Even more important—she hoped kidnapping the men would not only clear her brother’s name but show the handsome marshal she had the grit to be married to a lawman.

By-the-book Marshal Barkley should be charging down the road any minute. By now word would have spread she’d taken the missing men.

Her sour stomach rivaled the guilt eating away at her good sense. This had been a brash move to get the marshal out of town, but her brother’s life and her future depended on his arrival. She’d made the four men as comfortable as possible in the cellar. She’d even explained why they were here, but they hadn’t taken kindly to being kidnapped by Marcus Preston’s sister.

Dust plumed into the air a mile down the road to town. Nellie squinted, staring at the dust, hoping the marshal came alone. He’d be harder to convince if he brought a posse and his deputy. They’d say she was just like her brother—a no-good-killer.

She picked up the rifle leaning against the cellar door and prayed her parents and the younger kids didn’t come home early from visiting their grandparents two counties over. She wanted Marcus out of jail and things back to normal by the time Pa came home. Marcus was her twin, and she loved him dearly, but he did tend to get in fixes that most young men knew better to stay away from.

Pa always said of the two; she had the brains and Marcus had the muscle.

Some of her agitation fled when she spotted one horse and rider running hell bent up their lane. Marshal Tate Barkley had come by himself.

She smiled. He probably figured he didn’t need a posse to bring in one young woman.

Nellie cocked the gun and waited.

~*~

I have several books that have lawmen in them. The first book of my Halsey Series, Marshal in Petticoats has an accident prone young woman who is made marshal and the second book in the series, Outlaw in Petticoats has the two main characters ending up in law enforcement by the end of the book. All five of the Halsey Series books are available in an ebook box set.

You can read about or purchase the Halsey Brothers Series box set at:

Windtree Press             Kindle                    Nook              Kobo     

With sixteen published books, four novellas, and two anthologies, award-winning author, Paty Jager is never at a loss for story ideas and characters in her head. Her rural life in central and eastern Oregon, and interests in local history and the world around her, keeps the mystery and romance ideas flowing. She not only writes the western lifestyle, she lives it. 

You can learn more about Paty at her blog; www.patyjager.blogspot.com  her website; http://www.patyjager.net or on Facebook; https://www.facebook.com/#!/paty.jager and twitter;  @patyjag.

Guest Author - Caroline Clemmons

Do you wonder why authors choose a particular location for their books? Peggy loves Yellowstone National Park and used its beauty before it became a national treasure as a background for her wonderful stories. As a Texan, I enjoy setting my books and novellas in my state. Texas is a big state, though, with diverse landscapes. 

How do I choose? 

First, I write about locales I enjoy visiting. That’s what happened several years ago when my husband and I learned of the open house at an historic ranch about forty miles from our home. We visited the Belding-Gibson Ranch in Palo Pinto County. Part of this ranch was taken in by the formation of Possum Kingdom Lake, known locally as PK. The occasion of the open house was to announce the release of Barbara Belding Gibson’s book about the ranch, PAINTED POLE: The Beldings and Their Ranches in Palo Pinto County – Pioneer Days to Computer Age by Sunbelt Eakin Press.

I had used this lake for a modern story, OUT OF THE BLUE, featuring a heroine who travels from the past to help a modern police detective solve several murders.  This was my first visit to this ranch. The Belding-Gibson Ranch started in 1859 with a 12 by 12 cedar log cabin.  Fortunately, the Gibsons who own what remains of the ranch have preserved the cabin, the smokehouse, and as much of the original homestead as possible. The ranch is beautiful with huge live oaks dotting the pastures and offering shade for cattle.

The old cabin now is a bathroom in the Gibson’s home. Hard to visualize a family living in a room that size, and at first only the Belding forefather lived there. The smokehouse is now a storage room/pantry. A cold room, actually a furrow filled with running water, kept milk cool. Now it’s a part of a hallway leading to a family room. I so appreciate people like the Beldings and Gibsons who value their heritage and preserve it.

The area was inhabited by cedar cutters and hunters in 1854—and Comanche and Kiowa. People from Colorado might laugh at the Palo Pinto Mountains and say they look like big hills. Geographically, they are genuine mountains covered in live oak, scrub oak, cedar, and other native trees such as elm hackberry, and cottonwood. The scrub oaks turn lovely colors in the fall, which is why the Native Americans named them palo pinto, or painted stick or post.

 No, they’re not as pretty as Vermont’s fall colors, but give us a break. They are beautiful in their own rite. Cedars and live oaks retain their dark green foliage among the fall hues of the scrub oaks. My favorite time to drive through this area is spring when trees and grass are green and wildflowers abound.

Live oaks are a species of oak, not an oak this is living. Of course it is living, but the tree gets its name because while it is deciduous, it bears thick clusters of dark green leaves year round. I used that feature to help the heroine of HIGH STAKES BRIDE, Men of Stone Mountain book 2, escape capture. Which brings me a chance to segue to my book BLUEBONNET BRIDE, Men of Stone Mountain, book 3.

The three Stone brothers have settled in the Palo Pinto Mountains to raise cattle. In book one, BRAZOS BRIDE, they face a drought and a heroine someone wants dead. By book three, the first two brothers have married and only Joel Stone, eldest, is single. He’s sheriff of the fictional town of Radford Springs, and an excellent lawman. While his brothers each have ranches of thousands of acres, Joel’s smaller ranch is managed by a foreman. I love setting a series of books in this locale, and I’m sure it will pop up again with spin off characters from the Men of Stone Mountain series.

BLUEBONNET BRIDE is Joel’s story, and he finally meets the woman for him. Too bad she isn’t receptive to his attention. Joel is not a man to give up easily, but he doesn’t know the terrible secret Rosalyn hides.

Here’s a blurb:

He’s a by-the-book Texas sheriff; she’s on the run from a murder conviction...

When a tornado provides Rosalyn with the opportunity to escape the gallows, she collects her daughter Lucy and flees. They travel far enough West that Rosalyn believes she’s gone to the ends of the earth. She hopes she and Lucy will be safe in this remote North Texas town where she embarks on a new life as a dressmaker. If only she could avoid contact with people, especially the handsome sheriff who pops up every time she turns around. She fears either she or her chatterbox daughter may slip and reveal too much.

Joel Stone has been content with his life, even if it’s not the one he’d dreamed. His younger brothers are married and living nearby, his aunts have moved to Radford Springs, and he is respected for the efficient job he does as sheriff. When he meets the new widow in town, his instant attraction staggers him. She appears uninterested, but he is determined to win her hand in marriage. 

But life doesn’t turn out the way either Rosalyn or Joel plan. They overcome temporary obstacles, but what of the secret she protects? Can he save her from the gallows?

Does that tempt you? BLUEBONNET BRIDE is my favorite cover so far. My friend Nelda Liles in Frisco, Texas gave me several of her excellent bluebonnet photos taken at the annual Ennis, Texas “Bluebonnet Trail.”  I found the photo representing Rosalyn on iStock. I hope you find this cover irresistible. My sweet husband combined them and completed the cover.

Here’s an excerpt from BLUEBONNET BRIDE where Joel has just hung a swing for Rosalyn’s daughter Lucy:

Lucy did as he asked. He thought he could shinny down the rope so he wrapped his legs and hands around it. He would have been all right if Mrs. Dumas hadn’t chosen that moment to come outside. She shaded her eyes with her hand, but the sunlight hit her hair and turned it molten golden red.

He stared at her and lost his concentration. His legs drooped and his fingers tired of supporting him. He dropped to the ground in a tumble. The fall knocked the breath from his lungs and he lay there amid twigs and leaves. He blinked and tried to focus through watery eyes.

Mrs. Dumas knelt beside him. “Oh my word. Sheriff Stone, are you all right? Is anything broken?”

He sat up and conked his head on the swing seat. He rubbed the spot and grinned. “Not my most glorious moment, but I’ll survive.” He stood, wincing at the pain in his back where he’d hit the broken limb.

“Please let me help you inside. Lucy, get his coat and hat.”

Going anywhere with her sounded good. She took his arm and led him into the kitchen. He didn’t feel at all guilty throwing a limp into his walk.

“Sit at the table and tell me where you’re injured.”

“I’m fine, ma’am. Just need to sit a while and clear my head.” He remembered this kitchen from when the Brown family lived here. Already she’d begun changing the appearance by moving furniture around. The table was much nicer where diners could look at the back yard while eating.

She pumped water into a glass and set it in front of him. “What were you thinking? You could have broken your neck.”

“I realize that now. At the time, it seemed an easy enough task.” He downed the water then smiled at Lucy. “I had a good helper.”

Lucy giggled. “Giant sheriffs can fall after all.”

“Apparently so. The swing’s strong enough for you, though.”

“Mommy, may I go swing now?”

“Just be careful of that broken limb until we can clear it away.”

“I’d better do that.” He started to rise.

She pushed him back onto his seat. “You sit right there until I’m sure you’re all right. Does your head hurt? How’s your vision? Do you see double?” She tilted his head so their gazes met.

“My vision is fine, ma’am, and I sure am glad. You have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.”

She jerked her hand back so fast you’d think she’d been burned. He savored the warmth where her fingers had touched his jaw.

“Humph. Apparently there’s nothing wrong with you, sheriff.” She fisted her hands on her hips. “At least no damage from your fall.”

“I’ll just move that branch out of Lucy’s way and then get back to my business.” He stood and bent to grab his coat from where Lucy had dropped it.

She grabbed his arm. “Wait. There’s blood seeping through your clothes. Sit down and take off your shirt.”

He froze and considered following her request before sanity gained a toehold. “Nothing I’d like better, Mrs. Dumas, than having you tend my cuts and scrapes. Seeing as how you’re a widow on your own, I reckon I’d better get on to Doc Ross’s and let him see if there’s a problem. This is a small town, and I sure would hate if anything I did caused gossip to smirch your good name.”

Her expression softened. “Thank you, sheriff. I appreciate that more than I can say. I’m pleased you’re truly a gentleman.”

Joel pulled on his coat and left. He kicked himself all the way to the doctor’s office. 

I’m sorry the book has not yet reached iTunes, Nook, or Kobo, but can be purchased for those e-readers at Smashwords, https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/287177?ref=CarolineClemmons

The print and e-book version are available from Amazon at

http://www.amazon.com/Bluebonnet-Bride-Stone-Mountain-ebook/dp/B00BHOC7L8/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1362152055&sr=1-1&keywords=caroline+clemmons

Caroline Clemmons is an Amazon bestselling author of historical and contemporary western romances whose books have garnered numerous awards. Her most recent novel, BLUEBONNET BRIDE, is a poignant tale of tender redemption. A frequent speaker at conferences and seminars, she has taught workshops on characterization, point of view, and layering a novel.

Caroline and her husband live in the heart of Texas cowboy country with their menagerie of rescued pets. When she’s not indulging her passion for writing, Caroline enjoys reading, travel, antiquing, genealogy, painting, and getting together with friends.  Find her on her blog, website, Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Pinterest.

 Thanks to Peggy for having me as her guest today. And thank you, readers, for stopping by.

Guest Author - Charlene Raddon

My special guest today is Western Historical Romance Author Charlene Raddon. Please read her very interesting post about the history of handbags! One lucky commenter will win a ebook copy of her book To Have and to Hold and a $5 Amazon gift card! Please be sure to leave your contact email in your comment!



THE BEGINNINGS OF HANDBAGS

Purses, pouches, or bags have been used since humans first found a need to carry precious items with them. Egyptian hieroglyphs show men wearing purses around the waist, and the Bible specifically identifies Judas Iscariot as a purse carrier.
During the 14^th and 15^th centuries, bags were attached to the most vital feature of medieval garb: the girdle, along with rosaries, Book of Hours, pomanders (scented oranges), chatelaines (a clasp or chain to suspend keys, etc.), even daggers. Women favored ornate drawstring purses known as “hamondeys” or “tasques”. Men used purses known as “chaneries” for gaming or for holding food for falcons.
During the Elizabethan era, women’s skirts expanded to enormous proportions and small medieval girdle purses became lost among huge amounts of fabric. Rather than wear girdle pouches outside on a belt, women chose to wear them under their skirts. Men wore leather pockets (called “bagges”) inside their breeches. Large satchel-like leather or cloth bags were sometimes worn by peasants or travelers, diagonally across the body.
In the 16^th and 17^th centuries the more visible bags were rejected and long embroidered drawstring purses were hidden under skirts and breeches instead, while some people wanted them to be conspicuous, for use as decorative containers for gifts, money, perfume, or jewels. Toward the end of the 17^th century, purses became increasingly sophisticated, changing from simple drawstring designs to more complex shapes and materials.
Following the French Revolution, narrow, high-waisted dresses became popular, leaving no room beneath for pockets. Consequently, purses, in the form of “reticules” or “indispensables” as the English called them, came into use, showing that women had become dependent upon handbags. The French parodied the women who carried the delicate bags that resembled previously hidden pockets as “ridicules”.
Victorian era developments in science and industry provided a vast array of styles and fabrics women could coordinate with their outfits. Though pockets returned in the 1840s, women continued to carry purses and spend an enormous amount of time embroidering them to show off for potential husbands, often including the date and their own initials in the designs. Chatelaines attached to the waist belt with a decorated clasp remained popular.
The railroad brought about a revolution in the use of bags. As more people traveled by train professional luggage makers turned the skills of horse travel into those for train travel, and soon the term “handbag” emerged to describe these new hand-held luggage bags. Many of the top names of today's handbags started as luggage makers (whereas, previously made purses and pouches were made by dressmakers). Hermes bags were founded in 1837, a harness and saddle maker. Loius Vuitton was a luggage packer for the Parisian rich. Modern handbag designs still allude to luggage with pockets, fastenings, frames, locks, and keys.
Early in the 20^th century handbags became much more than just hand-held luggage. Women could choose from small reticules, Dorothy bags (now called dotty or marriage bags) with matching robes, muffs, and fitted leather bags with attached telescopic opera glasses and folding fans. Working women used larger handbags, such as the Boulevard bag, leather shopping bags, and even briefcases worn around the shoulder.
After WWI, the long constricting layers and rigid corseting women wore disappeared. Perhaps the most important development during this period was the “pochette,” a type of handle-less clutch, often decorated with dazzling geometric and jazz motifs, worn tucked under arms to give an air of nonchalant youth. Rules for color coordination grew lax and novelty bags, such as doll bags (dressed exactly like the wearer), became popular. The discovery of King Tutankhamun’s tomb in 1923 inspired purses reflecting exotic motifs.
Today, purse designs continue to fluctuate, and always will. What sort of purses do you remember using when you were young? In the 1950s I had a pink and white, square plastic purse I loved. I wonder whatever became of it. If I owned that purse now, it would probably be worth a pretty penny.

About Charlene:

Charlene first serious writing attempt came in 1980 when she awoke one morning from an unusually vivid and compelling dream. Deciding that dream needed to be made into a book, she dug out an old portable typewriter and went to work. That book never sold, but her second one, Tender Touch, became a Golden Heart finalist and earned her an agent. Soon after, she signed a three book contract with Kensington Books. Five of Charlene's western historical romances were published between 1994 and 1999: Taming Jenna, Tender Touch (1994 Golden Heart Finalist under the title Brianna), Forever Mine (1996 Romantic Times Magazine Reviewer's Choice Award Nominee and Affaire de Coeur Reader/Writer Poll finalist), To Have and To Hold Affaire de Coeur Reader/Writer Poll finalist); and writing as Rachel Summers, The Scent of Roses. Forever Mine and Tender Touch are available as e-books and after January 24, To Have and To Hold will be as well.
When not writing, Charlene loves to travel, crochet, needlepoint, research genealogy, scrapbook, and dye Ukrainian eggs.
Links:
http://www.charleneraddon.com/
http://www.charleneraddon.blogspot.com/
https://www.facebook.com/CharleneRaddon?ref=hl

You can purchase To Have and to Hold on Amazon.

Guest Author Caroline Clemmons

It gives me great pleasure to welcome back a wonderful author, Caroline Clemmons. The last time she visited, her book, Brazo's Bride, had just released. Now we get the second book in the Men of Stone  Mountain series.

Thanks to Peggy for inviting me to share her blog.

I’m happy as a new colt over HIGH STAKES BRIDE, Men of Stone Mountain, Book 2, in print and e-book. Of course I love this book, and I so hope readers will too.

I developed the premise for this trilogy while visiting the historic Belding-Gibson Ranch in Palo Pinto County, Texas. This is a large ranch, but only a fraction of the original size due to divisions among family members. The original home site is inhabited by Barbara (Belding) and Charles Gibson. The occasion of their opening their ranch to visitors was the release of Barbara’s book about the ranch, PAINTED POLE. I am so happy that I was able to tour this historic property in the beautiful (to me) Palo Pinto Mountains. The Gibsons have been good stewards of their heritage. The horrid fires of last summer almost destroyed the ranch, and the Gibsons lost cattle and grazing land, but the home was spared.

In the first Men of Stone Mountain book, BRAZOS BRIDE, the ranch was the setting for Hope Montoya’s ranch, but with a Spanish-style hacienda instead of a western ranch house. The smaller ranch owned by Micah Stone cozied up to the vast Montoya acreage, but without access to the river. Most ranchers at this time did not use wire to enclose their land, but Hope’s father had fenced in all of his property except that adjoining the Brazos River. When he was murdered, Micah was accused, and barely escaped with his life. For convenience, I slipped in the town of Radford Crossing a few miles away.

In HIGH STAKES BRIDE, Alice Price is on the run from dangerous men. She had known that when her stepfather died, she would have to hurriedly escape her stepbrothers. Hadn’t she heard them promise her to the meanest man in Texas as payment for high stakes gambling losses? One misfortune after another devils her until she links up with Zach Stone. He looks sturdy as his last name and invites her to his ranch where his two aunts will chaperone them. She figures life finally dealt her a winning hand.

Zach Stone has the sweetest ranch in all of Texas, at least he thinks he does. All he needs is a wife to build his family of boys and girls to carry on his ranch and name. He’s been jilted and vows he will never even speak to a woman again unless she's a relative. Then he comes across Alice Price and comes up with a crazy plan. He’s figured everything out, and is sure nothing can go wrong with his plan.

But life holds surprises for Alice and Zach... 

Doesn’t it always? Otherwise there’s no book. ☺HIGH STAKES BRIDE has several incidents based on real life, a first for me. Characters and stories pop into my head unbidden, and I don’t use anything specific from life. I qualify the statement because I believe our subconscious is a pool of combined experiences from our lives and those of people we know or have heard about. In other words, a writer’s muse steals from a writer’s subconscious well.

For this book, though, several things just fit the book. The first was an incident that happened to my brother’s ex-fiancée once a day after Thanksgiving. The second combined with the first is in the excerpt below and happened to my neighbor when her bull--who was just being affectionate--pushed her into one of those large round hay bales. Lastly, I used an historic incident and had a real life hero help my fictional hero. A fourth incident is related to when a friend tried to dye her hair darker and had the same result as Alice.

Now here’s an excerpt from HIGH STAKES BRIDE:

  

Zach slipped into the bedroll and waited, pistol in hand. He feigned sleep, wondering what kind of man tarried nearby. Whoever it was could have picked Zach off, so the sidewinder must not have murder on his mind.

Probably up to no good hiding out like that, though, because any Westerner would share his campfire and vittles with anyone who rode into camp. Zach wriggled into a comfortable spot and lay motionless. Anger at recent events helped him remain awake.

The footfalls came so softly he almost missed them. He opened his eyes a slit, but enough to see a thin shadow move toward the fire. About then heavy clouds overhead parted and the moonlight revealed a boy who scooped up a slice of bacon and slid it into his mouth.

The culprit set Zach’s tin plate on the ground near the fire, ladled beans into it, and picked up a fork. He squatted down and balanced the plate on his knees before he commenced eating. Zach noticed he kept his left hand in his pocket the whole time.

Something must be wrong with the thief’s left arm.  Looked too young for it to have been a casualty of the War. Lots of other ways to get hurt out here. Whatever had happened to his left arm, his right one worked well enough. He forked food into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in a week.

Zach let him shovel beans for a few minutes. Crook or not, anyone that hungry deserved a meal. When the kid stopped eating, Zach couldn’t figure out what he was doing.  It looked as if he used the fork to scratch around on the ground, so he must have eaten his fill. Zach slipped his hand from beneath the cover and cocked the pistol.

“Hold it right there, son. I’d like to know why you’re eating without at least a howdy to the man who provided the food.”

The boy paused, then set the plate down slowly. “I left money here on a rock to pay for it.”

Odd sounding voice, but the kid was probably scared. Zach slipped from his bedroll and stood, but kept his gun pointed at the food robber. “Maybe.”

Zach walked toward the kid, careful to train his gaze so the firelight didn’t dim his eyesight. Sure enough, he spotted a couple of coins on the rock beside his pot of beans, or what remained of them, and his empty plate.

He faced the intruder. “Why not just come into camp earlier instead of sneaking in after you thought I was asleep?”

“I—I was afraid you weren’t friendly.”

Zach thought he also heard the kid mutter what sounded like “...or maybe too friendly.” Must be the wind, he thought, as he neared the boy.

Zach motioned with his free hand. “I don’t begrudge anyone food, but I hate dishonesty and sneaking around.  Stand up so I can see you.”

The kid stood, hat low over his face and his good hand clenched.

Zach reached to push the brim back. “What’s your name?”

The kid stepped forward. “None of your business, mister.”

A fistful of sand hit Zach’s face. He heard his assailant run. Mad as the devil, Zach brushed grit from his eyes and set out in pursuit. The kid was fast, he’d give him that, but so was Zach. His longer legs narrowed the distance between them.  With a running lunge, he tackled the kid.

“Oof. Let me go.” The lad was all wriggles and kicking feet as he squirmed trying to escape.

Zach wasn’t about to let that happen. They rolled in the dirt. In one move Zach pinned the boy’s good arm. The hat fell aside and a mass of curls spilled around the kid’s face.

His jacket parted and unmistakable curves pushed upward where Zach’s other hand rested. Zach stared in disbelief. Registering his hand pressed against a heavenly mound shocked him and he jerked his paw away.

“Well, I’ll be damned. You’re not a boy.”

The woman glared at him. “Right, and you’re not exactly a feather. Get off me.”

Zach stood and bent to help her but she curled into a ball where she lay. “Ma’am, you okay?”

“Just dandy.” She sat up, moving like a hundred-year-old. She glared at him while holding her stomach with her good hand. The other arm dangled uselessly. “You’ve likely broken the few uninjured bones I had left.”

His temper flared. “Hey, lady, don’t try to put the blame on me. If you’d been honest and come into camp like any other traveler, I’d have shared my food with you.”

“Yeah, well a woman on her own can’t be too careful and I don’t know you or anything about you.”

Zach saw her point. Though most Western men would respect a woman, it wouldn’t help if she ran into one of the exceptions.

“What’s wrong with your arm?”

She glared at him and appeared to debate with herself before she said, “Fell out of a tree. My arm caught in the fork of a branch. Pulled it out of socket and I can’t get it back.”

Well hell. As if he didn’t have enough on his mind. Now that he’d decided not to speak to another woman unrelated to him, this bundle of trouble showed up needing a keeper.

Resigning himself to one more stroke of bad luck, he said, “Take off your coat and come over here to my bedroll.”

The campfire sparked less than her eyes. “I’ll do no such of a thing. Don’t be thinking you can take liberties because I ate your food and I’m injured. I paid for the food.”

Zach exhaled and planted his fists on his hips. “Ma’am, there’s not enough money in Texas to pay me to take liberties with you. If you’ll move to my bedroll and lie down, I’ll put your arm back in place. You’ll likely have to take off your, um, your shirt.”

She looked him up and down as if she weighed him and found him lacking. “I figured you for a rancher. You a doctor then?”

“Ranchers have to know a good bit about patching people.”

She straightened herself and swished past him as if she wore a ball gown instead of a man’s torn britches. Watching the feminine sway of her hips as she sashayed to the other side of the campfire, he wondered how he ever mistook her for male. He followed her and tried not to appreciate her long legs or the way the fabric molded to them like a second skin.

When she reached the blasted bedroll he’d been stuck with, she slid out of her jacket. A grimace of pain flashed across her face as the weight of the light coat slipped down her injured arm. In one graceful move she plopped down on the bedroll.

“You’re sure you can do this?” she asked and looked up at him.

Flickering firelight placed her features in shadow. Moving closer, he figured the poor light played tricks on him, for he couldn't tell the color of her hair. He decided she had light brown or dark blonde curls. Whatever color her eyes were, maybe blue or green, they were big and watched him with suspicion.

“Yes. Sorry, I don’t have any spirits with me to deaden the pain.”

“I never touch alcohol. If you’re sure you can do this, just get on with it.” She unbuttoned her shirt and winced as she slid the injured shoulder and arm free, and then stuck her chin up as if she dared him to make an improper comment or gesture.

He knelt beside her, keenly aware of the differences that proved her womanhood. A chemise of fabric worn so thin as to be almost transparent pulled taut across her breasts. He swallowed and willed himself to ignore the dark circles surrounding the pearly peaks thrusting at the flimsy material. The memory of the lush mound he’d touched briefly wouldn’t leave him. He’d been alone too long and had better concentrate on the job at hand.

“Stretch out and try to relax. I’ll be as gentle as I can, but this will hurt.”

“Hurts already, but I better put my bandana in my mouth so I don’t scream. I’m not a whiner, mind, but wouldn’t want to draw attention if there’s others nearby.” She slipped the cloth knotted around her neck up to her mouth like a gag, then laid down.

She moaned but didn’t fight him. Zach had seen this done numerous times over the years and had performed it twice. He probed her shoulder gently, then rotated her arm to slip it back into place.

He listened for the snick of the bone reseating itself in the socket. When he finished, he massaged the muscles of her upper arm and shoulder. She’d likely be sore for weeks, but the harm she had done wasn’t permanent.

“Have to give it to you, ma’am. You were the quietest patient I’ve ever seen.”

She lay with her face turned away from him. When he leaned over, he realized she’d passed out.

And it’s no wonder, is it? If this post has intrigued you, here are the places you can buy HIGH STAKES BRIDE in E-Book:

Smashwords:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/238238?ref=CarolineClemmons

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/STAKES-BRIDE-Stone-Mountain-ebook/dp/B009F7JLTK/ref=sr_1_27?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1348783897&sr=1-27&keywords=caroline+clemmons

In Print:

http://www.amazon.com/High-Stakes-Bride-Stone-Mountain/dp/1479253596/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1348786075&sr=1-1&keywords=caroline+clemmons+HIGH+STAKES+BRIDE

I’m currently at work on the third in the series, BLUEBONNET BRIDE, and it should be released for Christmas.

Thanks to Peggy for hosting me.

Guest Author - L.B. Shire

 

It gives me great pleasure today to welcome western romance author L.B. Shire to the blog.

Please introduce yourself. Tell us a little about the person behind the pen.

Hi everyone, my name is L.B. Shire and first I'd like to thank Peggy for having me on her blog today. I'm a writer of Western Historical Romance with my short, sexy read Devil Wears Lace out currently with Breathless Press. Stealing the Sheriff's Heart is available for pre-order now at Breathless Press, and will be available September 21^th. Then I've recently signed for two more short stories with Breathless Press, another Western Historical Romance titled The Damned. Then if your into super hot reads with a touch of paranormal, I wrote a short story for the Breathless Press Crimson Anthology titled In the Cover of Darkness with a vampire cowboy hero. Last of all, I have a novelette titled Game of Hearts with No Boundaries Press release date still TBA. I've had an exciting year with all these contracts! I began writing when I was just a youngster, stories that included horses and cowboys and haven't looked back since!

Why did you decide to write Western Historical Romances? What is the appeal?

I love the history and wildness of the old west! I'm also a horse crazy gal and the idea of horses as daily transportation always excited me.

How much research goes into your books, and how do you tackle that? I love to research, and can spend entirely to long with my nose in the history books. Especially history on women outlaws and women who could handle a gun, Annie Oakley being one of my all time fav's. I tend to write myself out a list of questions for my story, then try to keep my research specific to those questions.

What is the best comment you ever received from a reader? The worst or weirdest?

My favorite is "Never underestimate the determination of a woman...”

Tell us a little about your writing style? Do you plan and plot your stories, or do you just plow through them?

Well, like most authors I do both. Recently I've been working on being more organized and plotting my stories out. I need to buy stocks in sticky notes and spiral bound notebooks!

Have you ever had writer’s block? How do you deal with it?

Yes grr, you never know when the evil monster will strike! I take a ride into the surrounding forest on my Kiger mustang who's name is Cowboy. We love to explore the wilderness together. The quiet mountain trails are a wonderful inspiration.

What else do you have in store for your readers?

Well, for the upcoming year I hope to sub my latest, a Contemporary Western Romance tentatively titled  A Cowboy's Love, then I have another historical western romance in the works.  Also I've written a YA paranormal romance that is being published with Wild Horse Press, and book two of the series is completed, just needs polished and sent off! I have lots of exciting stories to come!  Most all with colorful characters set in my favorite place, the wild west!

Where can we find you and your books?

 http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B007AYAZC2/ref=s9_simh_gw_p351_d0_i1?pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_s=center-2&pf_rd_r=12Z8MZA2MSHZGCQ4W2F1&pf_rd_t=101& 

http://www.breathlesspress.com/index.php?main_page=product_free_shipping_info&cPath=4&products_id=37 

http://www.lbshire.com/ 

https://www.facebook.com/authorlbshire?ref=hl 

Blurb for Devil Wears Lace

Sara McAllister wants two things in this life: revenge and a new start for the future.

Sara wants revenge. The thought of avenging her family has kept her sane these past years. Now she is so close to reaching her final goal. Joseph Murry, the man who murdered her family, will pay—with his life. She needs only to win the horse race this corrupt politician is sponsoring, finish him, take her winnings, and head west to begin a new life. But someone she never expected to see again has crossed her path, possibly changing the course of her future forever.

Slade hadn't expected to find Sara in Devils Cove—and inside a seedy little saloon, to boot. But here she is, standing before him, stunning as ever. She tells him she is going to win this race and take care of business. Slade recalls her tortured past: a man had murdered her family and left her for dead. He thought he was here to win a race, but instead finds he must protect Sara. For even though they had decided long ago to go their separate ways, the only way she will survive is if he remains by her side.