by Sarah | Mar 28, 2013 | Author Interview, Guest Authors, Writing
L.B. Shire is here today with a look at herself, and a glimpse into her new Historical Western Romance, The Damned. So sit back, relax and get to know her a little…
*~*
1. Can you tell us a little about yourself?
First off, Iʹd like to thank Sarah Cass for having me at her blog today! Thank You Sarah 🙂 Ok, a little about me. My name is L.B. Shire and Iʹm a writer of western historical romance. I love to write stories set in the wild west that have feisty women, horses, and cowboys (or outlaws) to die for! To date, I have four western romances out: Devil Wears Lace, Game of Hearts, Stealing the Sheriffʹs Heart, and my newest release, The Damned.
2. Are you a pantser or a plotter?
I started out as a panster, but with experience I find it easier to plot. I keep a spiral notebook full of character backgrounds and story lines.
3. Can you tell us about the challenges you faced getting your first book published?
Mine was self esteem. Is this manuscript good enough? Am I crazy to think someone would want to publish this? Finally, one day I closed my eyes and hit the send button. My first novelette, Devil Wears Lace was published by Breathless Press February of 2012!
4. Were all of your characters easy to write, or did some of them give you trouble? Any particular character you didn’t like at all?
I loved all my characters when I wrote The Damned. There was an occasional moment when Iʹd want my hero to be a certain way, and heʹd surprise me by doing something totally different. Youʹd think you could make them behave with the stroke of your keyboard…Not true 🙂
5. Do you have any advice for aspiring writers?
Write, write, and write lots more! Itʹs the best way to learn your craft. With each book you write, youʹll notice how far youʹve come!
6. Narrow down your novel. Why must we read it? (besides the obvious, it’s awesome answer…because of course it is!)
If you love a little adventure set in the old west, with outlaws, a sexy hero and a woman worth fighting for, then The Damned is for you!
7. Do you have any unique talents or hobbies?
Well aside from writing, I love taking pictures of horses. My horses tend to be my victims quite often 🙂
8. Do you have another book coming out soon?
I submitted another western romance novelette this month, and Iʹm anxiously awaiting an answer from the publisher. (bites nails)
*~*~*~*
Buy: [amazon_link id=”B00AZYTSIG” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] | Breathless Press
Blurb:
Sometimes, what a man needs is a little hope…
Travel worn, and weary, Shane Gregor rides into Hell’s Hollow for a drink and answers. On the run for a crime he didn’t commit his days are numbered unless he can find proof. What he discovers instead is a green eyed enchantress and a sheriff who’s out for blood. When the law catches up to him, can he put his hopes in a woman he’s only just met?
A widow who has fallen on hard times, Josie Talbert became a soiled dove for the sake of survival. Her life changes in the course of a night, when a dark and dangerous cowboy steps through the doors of the Dead Horse Saloon, a death sentence looming over his head. Can his words of innocence be trusted? Can a lone woman change the course of fate?
Excerpt:
Tension gnawed at Shane’s soul. The door to the holding cell slammed shut behind him. This must be what a caged animal feels like. He glanced around the room. All ready the walls were moving in on him.
“I’ll talk with you later, Gregor,” the sheriff told him before leaving him alone with only his thoughts in the darkness. Shane didn’t respond, but listened in silence while the sheriff’s boots clicked across the wooden floor. With a heavy sigh he laid on the cot. He knew he was in a heap of trouble.
Shane needed to convince the sheriff of his innocence or he’d be a dead man by the end of the week, so they’d told him. He couldn’t let Mort win so easily. The man had managed to ruin his life in one fail swoop and at present it didn’t look like there was a damn thing he could do about it.
The night dragged on in insufferable silence. His thoughts flitted to earlier in the evening. When he had entered the saloon—when he’d first laid eyes on Josie… His mind wandered as he recalled how her curls bounced about her shoulders when she moved, and those eyes—she was a brazen one. Her hands on his skin when she washed him—stop, his mind screamed. The memories were pure torture.
Josie, he had to admit, intrigued him. He hadn’t given any woman a second thought for some time. He shook his head to clear it off the woman. It would do him no good to dream of her, he was a dead man.
Shane wondered if morning would ever come. The cell had no windows to let him know the time of day. But when the sheriff came through the front door, a hot cup of coffee in his pudgy hand, he knew he’d survived.
“I’ve sent word to the judge up in the next county. Said he should be here by the end of the week. Then there’ll be one less lousy gunfighter roaming the territory.”
“Will I have a chance to plead my case?” Shane asked. He gripped the bars of the cell until his fingers turned white. He gathered his answer by the unsympathetic smile on the sheriff’s lips.
“No trial is needed, son.” The man snorted, his chubby chin wiggling. “They start construction on the gallows today.” The sheriff took a sip of his coffee and stared at him with a look of contempt over the rim of his cup.
“The judge coming out here is to make it all official. He’ll sign the documents and so forth,” he said, matter of fact.
Shane stepped back from the bars. So it was over for him.
“So this is how it ends,” he murmured under his breath. He would need to send word to his brother and let him know what had happened to his sorry ass. Without another word he returned to the cot placed in the corner of the cell and sat down.
He rubbed his temples, wariness of the situation made his head throb.
“I’ll get you a bite to eat after a bit,” the sheriff called over his shoulder. “I’ve got stacks of paperwork to sift through on my desk first.” His voice echoed down the empty hall.
No longer hungry, Shane laid his head in his hands. A sense of despair that he couldn’t shake off overwhelmed him. Giving into his fatigue, he lay back on the cot and closed his eyes. It would be a long week.
Author Bio:
L.B. Shire has been writing stories for as long as she can remember. A lover of most all genres, her favorites include: Western Romance, YA, Paranormal and Shifter stories, to name a few!
When not writing or researching, L.B. enjoys spending time with family, riding one of her horses, and, of course, reading anything that is set before her! She currently resides on the West Coast in a sleepy little mountain town. There, in the midst of all that beauty, she plans her characters’ next adventures.
For more information on L.B. Shire, please visit her blog @http://www.lbshire.com/ or visit her Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/authorlbshire?ref=hl
I love visitors and comments, so please stop by and say hi!
http://www.lbshire.com/
by Sarah | Mar 28, 2013 | Guest Authors, Guest Post
I’m doing things a little different today with this post. I normally post my Guest Author posts over on Sarah’s Storylines – but due to the nature of the subject and the approach the wonderful Paloma took with it, it’s very relevant to Redefining Perfect, and I’m beyond honored to have Paloma here speaking on this subject in honor or her novel, Hold My Hand.
Thanks to Sarah for having me on Redefining Perfect today. This is the perfect place to share about my heroine’s past and talk about how she learned to redefine herself… with a little help from a deliciously alpha man.
Hold My Hand is about Aubrey, young woman coping with the remnants of being an emotionally abused child. Aubrey begins the steps of moving forward with a little help from a man who teaches her to redefine her idea of perfection. In his own unorthodox way, through an alternative lifestyle, he gives her a new chance to live the life she dreams of.
Sadly enough, far too many young girls are emotionally abused by their fathers. Because their fathers never acknowledge their responsibility, and most of their relatives often never believe such abuse was even possible, the girls go invalidated. The abuse affects them for the remainder of their lives in deeply seeded ways and the then-grown women are left to cope on their own.
Psychological, or emotional, abuse is defined as “deliberately making someone feel afraid, demeaned, degraded, subservient, or humiliated.” Emotional abuse tends to occur far more frequently and with more lasting negative effects than violent physical abuse. Most often, emotional abuse of daughters is preceded by the emotional abuse of their mothers.
The abuse typically happens with the intention of controlling, dominating, isolating, or intimidating and escalates as the daughter becomes more independent, seen to have a mind of her own her father is less able to control. Her father will use insults though they aren’t necessarily directly related to her behavior. The difficulty multiplies then because there’s no way for the daughter to predict what would set him off and avoid the abuse.
For Aubrey, like with so many real-life daughters, her father would yell at her, accuse her of not being bright enough, pretty enough and of not treating him right. One of the people meant to build her up would put her down and make her feel she could do no right. She was made to feel worthless and emotionally exhausted.
The most confusing part is the father’s poor treatment then followed by exhibits of love and tenderness, sometimes going so far as to spoil his daughter. This extreme behavior confuses the daughter. Then if there is an apology at all, the apology is softened with self-righteous justification such as “You pushed my buttons,” or “It’s hard to be nice to you,” or “Stop being so sensitive.” Never is there validation for how the daughter’s feelings.
I hope, by including this topic in Hold My Hand, to increase awareness of the emotional abuse of daughters. This is just the beginning of Aubrey’s healing. Book two – Heal My Soul – will be the continuation of her journey as she confronts her family.
BLURB
A story about Aubrey & William. Aubrey has been hurt in the past, discouraged by her family and degraded by a heartless father. Still, William sees something in her that won’t allow him to walk away. Instantly drawn to her but intuitive enough to take it slowly, he courts her. Then he bargains, persuades and seduces until his commanding nature ensnares her. Despite the fight she puts up in accepting William’s lifestyle, the bonds he places on Aubrey give her a freedom she desperately needs. Together, they heal old wounds and find their perfect love.
HOLD MY HAND is a contemporary BDSM-lite Romance with consensual Spanking Elements. Enjoy at your own risk.
EXCERPT ©Paloma Beck, 2013
“Aubrey.” William’s voice wafted through the line, the warm sound sliding down my tummy. “I’m held up in a meeting. Baylor will deliver you to my home and I’ll be there shortly.” I could hear voices in the background, hushed but present. I made a note to ask William soon what type of business he was in.
“Ok. That’s fine.” I wasn’t sure about being delivered; the term made me feel like a package. Perhaps I’ll try to think of myself as a special delivery. I shook my head at the absurdity of the thought. When had I ever been something special? Sometimes you’re just a waste of space, Aubrey.
“Good. I’ll see you soon. Baylor will attend to you, whatever you need.”
“Thank you.”
I thought he’d simply click the phone off then but he cleared his throat, “And Aubrey,” he paused, “I-I am sorry. I didn’t want us to begin this way.” I was still processing his apology when the call ended. I returned the phone to Baylor, grabbed up my coat and purse and followed him to the car waiting outside the door.
William’s voice – his apology had been so sincere. I couldn’t imagine it mattering that much to him. I wasn’t important enough for someone to worry over. No one had ever been concerned for me like that before. It unnerved me to consider William might actually like me enough to worry. Would he care for me eventually? I couldn’t dare believe it.
The car pulled up outside a large brick and stone home. It was big enough for a full family. The ride had been about twenty minutes so we must’ve been in one of the smaller suburbs framing Boston. As Baylor opened my door and offered his hand, I unfolded my body from the car and stood beside him, certain my mouth was hanging open.
“This was William’s home?” The quiver in my voice certainly gave away my uncertainty, my complete disbelief that this man I’ve met and have now agreed to date –if in fact, that’s what I’ve agreed to– lived in this home more suited for a full family of eleven.
“Yes ma’am.”
“He lives here?” I still couldn’t believe what I was seeing though it was right in front of my eyes. The house where I’d been raised could sit well inside this massive structure, which left me feeling small, tiny and insignificant. If nothing had yet to do it, this was the moment where my inadequacies smacked me square in the face. You’ll never be anything, Aubrey.
Baylor seemed to sense my unease, shuffling his feet next to me and waiting. He cleared his throat. “He also has an apartment in the city for times he can’t get away. This was more his weekend residence.”
“Oh,” I answered, took a deep breath and gave myself a moment to absorb this. It was so far from my reality. I could hardly make sense of it.
Hold My Hand is currently only available through Smashwords, but will release at all other major ebook retailers on April 1, 2013. You can check out Aubrey’s Pinterest Board and mark the book as WANT TO READ on Goodreads today!
About Paloma
Paloma Beck is a Romance Author living a life of contradiction… she’s a happily married carpooling mom writing erotic romance. It’s almost naughty! Paloma writes in both the Contemporary and Paranormal realms, journaling the stories her characters tell her, and they are anything but PG. She dabbles in vampires, witches, ménage, spanking and bdsm – all in her books, of course. Paloma believes a daily dose of espresso and a good book make any day better.
She is currently working on a contemporary romance series about three brothers. Finding Home, book two, will be released sometime in 2013 with Secret Cravings Publishing. She also has a paranormal romance series, The Seven Sin Sisters, contracted with Secret Cravings Publishing, which will be released sequentially between August 2012 and August 2013.
Connect with Paloma
WEBSITE http://palomabeck.weebly.com
TUMBLR http://palomabeck.tumblr.com/
BLOG http://RomanceBeckons.blogspot.com
TWITTER https://twitter.com/PalomaBeck
FACEBOOK http://www.facebook.com/PalomaBeckAuthor
PINTEREST http://www.pinterest.com/PalomaBeck
GOODREADS http://www.goodreads.com/PalomaBeck
AMAZON http://www.amazon.com/Paloma-Beck
Recommended Read
For more information on this topic, [amazon_link id=”1440504636″ target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]The Verbally Abusive Relationship: How to Recognize It and to Respond[/amazon_link], Patricia Evans is a useful guide. I encourage anyone living with any form of abuse seek professional help.
by Sarah | Mar 27, 2013 | Character Interview, Giveaway, Guest Authors, Writing
Every comment on the post is an entry to win a PDF copy of Trouble With a Cowboy. Drawing will happen on 3/29 about 9AM!! So leave your comment today for a chance to win a copy!!
I’m very pleased to have the hero of Sandy Sullivan’s latest book,[amazon_link id=”B00BL9QCU6″ target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ] Trouble With A Cowboy[/amazon_link] stop by today. Tucker Marshall had me enraptured by his Wranglers…I mean, um…ah, hell. Just read up.
Hi Sarah. It’s nice to be here on your blog.
1. Tell us a little about yourself. How did you come to your author’s attention? Occupation?
Let’s see. I own a large ranch outside of Amarillo Texas and I raise Bucking Bulls for the PBR and several rodeos all over the country. I do a lot of traveling but I got stuck in a little town in Oklahoma with one of my bulls on the way to National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas.
2. What or who is the greatest love of your life? Why? What drew you to them?
The greatest love of my life is raising bulls and Jacie. What drew me to raising bulls was the thrill of watching them compete in professional bullriding just like the riders do. They get points and compete with the other bulls on the circuit for Bull of the Year. My bull Lightning Strike is up this year with a 98% bulloff rate.
Jacie is the most important life in my life these days.
3. What’s your greatest fear?
Losing my ranch. I grew up kind of poor and there wasn’t a lot to eat some days. I wouldn’t know what to do if I didn’t have my ranch.
4. What’s your motto in life?
Live life to the fullest.
5. How do the other characters in your book view you?
The guys don’t like me because I’m with Jacie now. Several have the hots for her or are protective of her and they think I’m going to hurt her. I wouldn’t hurt her for the world. She means everything to me.
6. What do you prefer? To spread & hear gossip, or be the creator of gossip fodder?
I don’t do gossip. If I hear something I try to ignore it and move on. Gossip isn’t good and usually leads to someone getting hurt.
7. What is it about you that is going to draw us readers in?
*evil grin* I look good in a pair of Wranglers?
8. What was your happiest moment?
Probably the day I paid off my parents’ house at least so far.
9. What trait in others do you find most deplorable?
Lying. I hate liars.
10. The random question: If you were a color, what color would you be and why?
Definitely blue. I try to never lose my temper and be cool, calm and collected mostly of the time. Of course, Jacie gets my pretty fired up sometimes.
*~*~*~*
18 wheels had her heart until one hard-up cowboy found her kickin’ up her heels and propositions her to take his bull to Vegas.
Jacie Hawkins drives big wheelers for a livin’. Something not a lot of women do. Littleton Oklahoma is just a dry stopover for a few hours of rest and relaxation at the nearest bar. Jacie needs to find a hot cowboy to release some of her pent up frustrations on for the night, but wannabe’s aren’t her style.
Tucker Marshall needs a big-rig driver to haul his prize bull to National Finals Rodeo and he needs one fast. Who would have thought he’d find one shootin’ pool at the local bar dressed to kill and takin’ numbers?
Can some slashed tires and an ornery bull bring two hard-headed people together for some fun in the sun and a little more?
Buy link
http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&cPath=4&products_id=533
Excerpt
Lean hips and a bull rider belt buckle blocked her view of the multitude of cowboy boots standing nearby. Her gaze crawled up a flat, chiseled abdomen, across sculpted muscles, over a firm jaw to meet sexy brown eyes.
“What’s the frown for, pretty lady?”
She tipped the bottle to her lips to take a long drink, keeping her eyes on the gorgeous man in front of her.
Once she’d swallowed, she said, “Contemplation.”
“Huh?”
Great. Probably barely made his way through high school.
“I was trying to figure out how many of them,” she nodded to the crowd twirling on the dance floor, “are real.”
“Real?”
“Real cowboys or just wannabes.”
Brown eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled as he hooked his fingers behind his belt buckle and tilted the shiny metal up. “Mine’s real, sweet thing.”
“Is it? Where did you win it?”
“National Finals Rodeo last year. Bull ridin’.”
“Is that right?” She took another sip of her beer.
“Yeah.” The cowboy pulled his shoulders back proudly.
“You know, that’s funny. I rode last year. I sure don’t remember you. What did you say your name was?”
The man frowned as a trickle of sweat appeared over his lip. “Kyle Fredrick.”
“Kyle…” She tipped the bottle to her lips again. “Mmm…nope. I sure don’t remember you. You know what else?”
His eyes narrowed as he shifted from foot to foot. “What.”
“I have an official belt buckle in barrel racing.” She tapped the buckle at her waist with her fingernail, and then pointed toward his. “That’s about the worst fake I’ve ever seen. The real one, honey, is gold with World Champion Bull Rider on the bottom and your name engraved just above that.” She stood in front of him so they stood toe-to-toe. “That trinket might work on one of those rhinestone babes out there, but it won’t work on me. I know the real thing when I see it.”
When the music changed, bathing the bar in silence for a moment, she heard a soft chuckle to her left. Tipping her head, she locked gazes with the guy two stools down. He lifted an eyebrow and tipped his hat as a crooked, half-smile graced his mouth, showing off pearly-white teeth with a dimple in his left cheek. Before she got a good look at the color of his eyes, the cowboy in front of her pulled her attention back to him.
“You’re a bitch.”
“I’ve been called that before. You’ll have to come up with something more original…Kyle.”
With a pissed-off growl, Kyle spun on his heel, disappearing into the crowd farther down the bar. Jacie took her seat again, propping her boot heels on the rung of the chair and tipped the bottle to her lips. Beer slid down her throat in a cool wash of satisfaction.
Moments later, two-stools down cowboy moved one stool closer when the man next to her headed for the door.
Elbows balanced on the bar behind her as the bottle dangled from her fingers, she glanced sideways and her gaze met the prettiest baby blues she’d ever seen. One sweep from the top of his black Stetson and dark hair, over his broad chest and down his yummy torso, told her a lot. A working man. Dusty cowboy boots peeked out from the hem of his jeans.
“Hi,” he offered.
“Hi, yourself.”
“Name’s Tucker.” He held out his hand.
She stared at his palm. Calluses. Working hands. Short nails. Clean.
Grasping his hand in hers, she wasn’t prepared for the zing of electricity pricking her skin where they touched.
“Jacie.”
“Nice to meet you, Jacie.”
“You, too Tucker.”
“Sorry about that guy.”
“Why? Is he a friend of yours?”
A short snort left his mouth. “Not in this lifetime. I’m only hopin’ you don’t judge the whole lot by him.”
“Nah.” She smiled and lifted the bottle to her lips again, draining the remaining beer. “He’s nothing new. I’m used to his type.”
“What type is that?”
“The lay ’em and leave ’em kind. Once he gets between a woman’s thighs, he’s gone.”
The chuckle returned. “Probably right on the money.”
“Occasionally, that’s not a bad thing, but tonight…not necessarily what I’m looking for.”
He leaned closer as the music started again. The spicy, almost citrusy scent of his cologne and virile male mixed with…cattle, reached her nose. Interesting.
“Can I buy you another beer?” he asked, his breath rushing over the shell of her ear.
One shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Sure.”
Signaling for the bartender, he stood to pull some money from his front pocket, bringing his chest into close proximity with her shoulder. The heat radiating off his skin sent shivers skittering across her arm, and she fought the urge to rub the flesh to calm the goose bumps.
His tanned hand held a bottle out in front of her.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He sipped from his beer, but when he lowered the bottle his eyes found hers again. “What are you doing in Littleton, Oklahoma?”
“Hanging out with you.”
“Yeah, right. A babe like you doesn’t hang out in small town honky-tonks.”
She flinched at his comment as she dropped her gaze to the front of his shirt. “Just passin’ through.”
“I see. Mysterious. Works for me.” He set his beer on the bar behind her. “Care to dance?”
Do I really want those hands on me? Hell yeah!
“Sure.” She set her bottle next to his before they headed for the dance floor.
The song changed to a slow ballad causing her to cringe. Slow dancing with this gorgeous, rugged cowboy could send her right between the sheets with him in a heartbeat. Good or bad, she wasn’t sure he would be the type to easily walk away from. When she turned, she sucked in a ragged breath before she slipped her hands up around his neck. He settled his palms on her hips. Her heartbeat hitched up a notch and her fingertips itched to run along the solid ridges of his pecs—ridges that came from hard work, not a gym.
*~*
Sandy Sullivan is a romance author, who, when not writing, spends her time with her
husband Shaun on their farm in middle Tennessee. She loves to ride her horses, play
with their dogs and relax on the porch, enjoying the rolling hills of her home south of
Nashville. Country music is a passion of hers and she loves to listen to it while she writes.
She is an avid reader of romance novels and enjoys reading Nora Roberts, Jude Deveraux
and Susan Wiggs. Finding new authors and delving into something different helps feed
the need for literature. A registered nurse by education, she loves to help people and
spread the enjoyment of romance to those around her with her novels. She loves cowboys
so you’ll find many of her novels have sexy men in tight jeans and cowboy boots.
by Sarah | Mar 26, 2013 | An Uncivil War, Books, HerStory - Pagan Writer's Press, Hump Day Hook, Publishing Credits, Writing
Another Hump Day Hook!
With all this talk about [amazon_link id=”B00BEMN5SC” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Changing Tracks[/amazon_link] and my upcoming Masked Hearts, I haven’t bestowed on my friendly hookers anything about the wonderful anthology I got to be a part of this past month.
[amazon_link id=”1938397495″ target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]HerStory: Fiction Honoring Women’s History Month[/amazon_link], is a compilation of stories about strong women throughout history. From the medieval times, to the recent past, and through into the future. 31 stunning stories of strength of the female spirit, told by 27 authors.
I was honored to be a part of the anthology with my own story, An Uncivil War. Cathay is a nurse in the US Civil War, and on the fields of Gettysburg she takes a chance and bucks the traditional role of nurse.
In this hook, the doctor that is upset the female nurses are even near the battle, is about to head out into the field. She asks to go along:
“You’ve already seen too much.”
Cathay bit down hard on her tongue to withhold a sassy reply. Her skirts bunched up in her fists until her hands grew almost numb. “Aye. I have, doctor. I haven’t let it scare me though. I believe I have performed my duties well and without the weakness you attribute to my sex. Sir.”
*~*~*
Hump Day Hook asks authors to post one paragraph of one of their stories, whether a WIP, one contracted, or already published. Please visit and comment on the participants – you might just stumble on the next great read for your library! To see more participants, click on the HDH banner below:
by Sarah | Mar 19, 2013 | Books, Hump Day Hook, Masked Hearts, Writing
Another Hump Day Hook!
This week I’m so excited to reveal my disturbingly gorgeous cover! Dawne Dominique did an amazing job at capturing just what I wanted and couldn’t get for myself.
Minnie and Roy are unlike any other couple I’ve written before. Their strength is quiet, their relationship simple and complex all at once. I created their story as a challenge to myself…to write something shorter than my typical 300k story that required breaking down into a series.
I wanted a set story, and went so far as to plan it out (and I succeeded, with only one surprise thrown in). Minnie and Roy did not come easily, both were so guarded about their past and themselves, but once they warmed to each other, they let me in a little more.
So here’s a little hint of Minnie and Roy…the blurb will follow. No release date yet, but hopefully soon I’ll have that for you 🙂 In this snip, Roy is trying to get Minnie to talk to him. To explain why she hates the Cheyenne that are part of their travelling wild west show, inevitably he turns her reasons back on herself:
“You stay.”
“I have no choice.” Her jaw worked. A glimmer of a tear shimmered at the corner of her eye before a rapid blink carried it away.
“And Max?”
“There’s a price on his head, and he’s old. He has no choice.”
“And me?”
“You don’t matter.” She tossed aside the tomahawk, and then turned to leave. “You’re one of them.”
BLURB:
Minnie Woodward lives a lie. After barely surviving the Bear River Massacre she’s spent her life in the white world of her guardian, Mister Rawlins. The burden of her life debt to Rawlins grows heavier with each passing day. The last thing she needs is Roy’s continuing attempts to gain her favor. With her fate sealed she’s never believed in hope, and not even Roy can make her start now.
Roy Ornum rescues Minnie every night in the traveling Wild West show. The job he took to pay his debts and break his gambling habit brought him a new addiction – her. He knows she doesn’t want to be rescued, but maybe he does. She’s the key to a past he lost, one he wants to find again more than anything.
As the two grow closer old wounds are reopened and their burgeoning trust is shattered. When lives hang in the balance of their choices they’ll need to put aside their fear and work together. Otherwise everything will be lost before hope can be found.
*~*~*
Hump Day Hook asks authors to post one paragraph of one of their stories, whether a WIP, one contracted, or already published. Please visit and comment on the participants – you might just stumble on the next great read for your library! To see more participants, click on the HDH banner below:
by Sarah | Mar 18, 2013 | Books, Hybrid, Tuesday Tales, Writing
The prompt this week was Tight. I finally managed to name this bad-boy…and she will be henceforth called Hybrid (at least until I decide to hate it and change it).
There will be no Tuesday Tales next week (~whimper~), so this is it for two weeks…hope I didn’t leave you hanging too badly. 😉
Remember, this is a meme with many contributing authors, so make sure to click the link at the bottom of the image to take you to see more!
Anyhow, as always this is un-edited mostly, so forgive any errors. :
An arid breeze stirred along my skin. The familiar scent of phlox blooming in the dusk relaxed even my worst nerves at being home. Distant peaks jutted against the deep purple and red of the setting suns.
I stepped onto the ledge just yards from the door we’d entered through and soaked in the familiarity. Where I stood now would be, to a human on the Terran plane, Liberty Island. The peaks and pits of the mountains were city buildings, skyscrapers. Millions of people occupying a land that in our world was desolate save for loners and wildlife.
Beside me, my father’s human veneer, which moments ago had sagged with regret, grew tight against his true form. Silver scales gleamed through the thinning human flesh, his eyes sparkling silver.
My own flesh became taut, pulling and stretching against my body’s instinct to grow taller and larger. Red lines etched along my arms, adding to the pattern of flowers and scale-like arches.
“I will have to break my arm to cover the signs with a cast at this rate. We shouldn’t remain long.” Even through my words I didn’t move, compelled to stay where I was as I reacclimated to the plane. The songs of dragons began to carry on the breeze, welcoming their king home, and me as well.
Our conversation weighed heavy on my mind, and my father’s quick agreement to my accessment the war wouldn’t be fight here on the Wyvern plane. Instinct clawed its way through my belly and twisted it into knots.
“You’re right, Father.”
“About what, Jyoti?”
“I am a very good tactician. You knew what I would say, that I would return and fight for the plane. You knew what was happening, there was nothing in that box and that’s why you didn’t force my hand.”
My accusations didn’t draw anger, but a smile creased his lips. “And why do you say such things, child? Accusing your father like that is dangerous.”
“How many are there?”
The smile faded and he clasped his arms behind his back. Lines returned to his face, etched deep along his forehead and around his mouth. “Jyoti.”
“You said I was the only one. The only one! Father, what have you done?” My heart pounded in my chest, bile rising in my thorat. “You said the experiments ended because none other would work. No hybrids survived but me because of the griffin…”
“Griffin blood gave you an edge that any other natural born hybrid did not and could not mimic. Our greatest minds attempted to find a solution. They did.” His silver eyes bore into mine, almost black in the depth of pain he tried to convey. “Our race would have died without the hybrids.”
“You let them use me? My blood?”
“The only pure, natural hybrid alive.”
My heart ceased its incessant pounding, in fact it stilled completely. Where heat had burned my veins and flesh now felt chilled and dead. “How many?”
“Approximately one hundred.”
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