Kara O'Neal - Blog

Monday Memories: The Day After

9/20/2021

I remember the sky the most the day after we sat in the hallway and sang our hearts out.

It was red....but the air wasn't hot. The sun was as bright as I've ever seen it, but it didn't hurt to look at it. I couldn't understand why that could be, but I didn't question it because so much had happened while we had fun inside.

The land was littered with branches, pine needles, wood, glass, and various other elements of debris. The trees had been picked clean. Some had fallen and were lying across our street. Some people didn't have roofs. Some families had water in their house.

We were one of those families. When you walked along the carpet, wetness squished between your toes, and your footprints were left behind. It made this sloshing sound that, if you stepped correctly, could tap out rhythm to your favorite song.

We had to pull our carpet up, which left us with cement flooring and carpet tack. We had to be careful around those strips of wood for they had tiny nails sticking up.

It was a new world. A sudden devastation I didn't understand. And it had a name. I thought that was odd, but at least when grown-ups spoke about the event, I knew what they were talking about.

Hurricane Alicia.

She came without consideration for us. She came without mercy. She came without slowing.

And she taught me a very valuable lesson....

Your life is not always in your control. Bad things do happen, and they can happen to you. And sometimes, the world needs a cleansing to remind us of that.

After that event, I told God I understood. That life was fleeting. That all that mattered was loving your fellow man. And I hoped he would never send another Alicia again.

Monday Memories: Rowin' A Boat (In The Hallway)

9/13/2021

I wasn't allowed to go outside one particular summer day in August of 1983. I about had a heart attack.

But my mother consoled me by inviting every neighborhood kid over to our house. Imagine my elation at having a big party instead of having to play school with Maria and Wendy.

Don't mistake me, I adore my sisters, but sometimes they picked the stupidest things to play.

Anyway, my mother organized us in the hallway for some strange reason, but I didn't argue because it was a funny thing to do, and my friends didn't seem to mind.

We have this really long hallway. No windows, carpeted. I imagine there was about 20 of us sitting side by side. We were stretched all the way down. I thought this was the coolest, oddest, best concession for not being allowed outside.

My mother decided we should sing songs. The one I remember singing was "Row, Row, Row Your Boat". We sang it loud. We sang it soft. We sang it fast. We sang it slow. We sang it in cannon formation.

This was enjoyable even though I didn't understand the point. Usually, if I don't understand the point of doing something, I have a difficult time following through. Since I am an "almost third grader", I usually didn't do tasks I found irrelevant. (Like Math.)

But that day, I didn't question her, or fight her, or be generally stubborn.

I'm sure she was thankful.

Because the next day, when I was finally allowed outside, I discovered why I rowed that boat....

Release Day: The Cowboy's Bride

9/8/2021

THE COWBOY’S BRIDE is book 16 in the TEXAS BRIDES OF PIKE’S RUN series.

The hero in the story, James Davis, makes an appearance in several of the books leading up to his. He’s a trickster and a mischief-maker who hates rules and only obeys the ones his parents set for him. He’s caused problems for many shop owners, farmers and the Women’s Guild. He’s put frogs in shoes, tacks on chairs, used mirrors during mass to annoy Father O’Malley and spiked the punch at barn dances.

And his antics have come back to bite him.

James becomes a victim of a prank and finds himself hitched to the judge’s daughter because of it.

Boy howdy, did I have fun causing problems for James. He’s always thought himself in control. He’s always thought he knows everything. Well…..I shook up his world and didn’t even feel bad for him. (Maybe I did. A little.)

James has to learn how to eat crow and what love really is. It’s a sweet story, and I hope y’all enjoy it!

Pike’s Run, Texas, 1887
James Davis has plans -- work his family's ranch, get married, have a family. So, how does he end up in a hayloft with Liza Talbut, the judge's daughter, who is most definitely not the woman he loves?

Liza Talbut has plans -- cook, clean, and avoid all social engagements. So how, in Heaven's name, does she end up in a hayloft with James Davis, her long-time friend?

They are caught, but all is not lost. Liza doesn't have to marry James if nothing happened. And...nothing happened. But Liza wants a life out of her mother's home and to get away from her viperous sister. Liza knows she can be a good wife to James, and his kisses are too thrilling to lose.

So...she lies. And gets herself hitched.

And James finds himself with the bride he hadn't planned on...

BUY THE COWBOY'S BRIDE

EXCERPT: THE COWBOY'S BRIDE

“James!”

James shot up at the strident call, blinking rapidly.

“James!”

“Yeah?” he croaked out. What the hell? He was covered in hay. Had he fallen asleep in the loft? His head was pounding. He pressed the heel of his hand to his temple. “Damn,” he muttered.

“James.”

And the fury in the tone finally resonated. James looked up and found his father glaring down at him, along with the judge. “Pa?”

His father’s face was beet red with rage. The judge was clenching his hands into fists repeatedly. “What’s wrong?” James rasped.

The hay rustled beside him. He turned and met the gaze of Liza Talbut. Stunned, he reared back. “Oh, hell.”

Monday Memories: Kickball

9/6/2021

After Hide-And-Seek, kickball became my favorite game to play.

We didn't have enough people to make two teams, but who cares about that? Kirk and Scotty would play regardless. Maria, unfortunately, would only play when it wasn't hot.

UGH!!! So frustrating....

However, it forced me to find my favorite time of day....

Texas burns hot. It can singe your flesh and make you sweat in seconds. I didn't mind it. Maria did.

She frequently told me, "I don't sweat, I glisten."

I hated that statement. Abhorred it like any normal person abhors cooked spinach. (Maria also liked spinach.)

Thankfully, when the sun disappeared behind the pine trees the air grew cooler, the light was enough, and the lightning bugs didn't bite. This time of day was acceptable for kickball and passed Maria's test. Scotty and Kirk were always ready to play, so after supper we'd meet in my front yard.

We used the area in front of my parents' bedroom window as home, the spot where the corner of our sidewalk met the yard as first, the edge of our yard as second, and a newly planted Sweetgum tree as third. There were no outs (not yet), no winners, no losers. Just kickball.

I loved it.

Monday Memories: My Bo Duke

8/30/2021

I have returned from the Armpit, well-read, well-fed, and appropriately attired. I am also assured that should I fall into the lake, I will not drown for Mrs. Rife's swimming lessons were superb.

I spend the rest of my summer at Roxi's house or Alex's house. We sing, we dance, we fight. We talk, and talk, and talk. Those are good days.

Another family comes into the mix. I'm pretty sure they were already there, but this is my first memory of them.

We are sitting on a shag-carpeted floor, playing Monopoly. The boy to my left is younger than me, and he is a lot of fun. The boy to my right is one year older, but we're in the same grade. He's blonde-headed and blue-eyed.

He is very cute. And reminds me of Bo Duke.

This should give you an indication of just how cute he is. Because, really....Bo Duke? He was a dream!

My heart is now engaged. Even more so when it becomes clear that he doesn't mind when I try to play dodgeball with him. (And also.....he let me win.)

He's pretty much perfect.

So, he will be Bo. Simply because he is worthy of the comparison.

The Ghosts of New England: Skullery Bay

8/17/2021

Today I get to share an anthology with you! I'm so excited about these stories! There's four romances written by fabulous authors. You're guaranteed to be swept away! So, let's hear more about them!

An anthology unlike any other...
4 Different Centuries
4 To-Die-For Romances
The Same 2 Ghosts!

Widow’s Walk (1737)
RITA nominee & Best Selling Author, Lisa A. Olech
He’s the infamous pirate, Captain John Jacob Wilder.
She’s the daughter of his fiercest enemy.
Their love is the beginning of the legend.

Cast to the Wind and Waves (1837)
Best Selling & Award-Winning Author, Kathryn Hills
She’s the heiress determined to restore Fairwinds to its former glory.
He’s the solicitor working as a caretaker because of the deadly curse.
Their love will rebuild the legend.

The Bootlegger’s Daughter (1924)
Best Selling & Award Winning Author, Nancy Fraser
She’s the daughter of one of the FBI’s most wanted criminals.
He’s her bodyguard, and not at all what he seems.
Their love will return dignity to the legend.

Jilly’s Dilemma (Present Day)
Best Selling & Award-Winning Author, Nancy Fraser
She’s the new owner of Fairwinds, a flaky artist who talks to ghosts. Repeatedly.
He’s the staid, young professor there to document Fairwinds' history.
Their love will make you believe in the legend.

WATCH THE BOOK TRAILER

BUY THE GHOSTS OF NEW ENGLAND: SKULLERY BAY

LISA A. OLECH—loves art, pirates and a cranky curmudgeon she affectionately calls the Wizard of O. Currently the author of eight Romance titles in both the contemporary and historical genres, she uses witty dialog with a side order of sexy to bring to life multi-faceted, adventurous, smoldering characters you’ll not soon forget.

A 2018 RITA Award nominee for her book, Within A Captain’s Soul, the final book in her Captains of the Scarlet Night series, Lisa’s won a variety of writing contests and achieved the ranks of Amazon Best Seller with her debut book in 2014.

Living on the shores of On Golden Pond, Lisa shares a drafty, old Victorian house with a wizard and two schizophrenic cats she brought into the house in an attempt to fill her empty nest and keep her from talking to herself in a British accent. As an author, artist, Justice of the Peace, and aspiring beekeeper, Lisa finds true inspiration in the beauty and love that surround her. And, she takes full credit for three homes on her quiet New England street now proudly flying the Jolly Roger from their flagpoles.

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Instagram ~ Pinterest
Amazon Author Page ~ Goodreads
~ ~ ~
KATHRYN HILLS—The rich history and many mysteries of New England are the perfect backdrop for many of Kathryn’s books. Winding roads lined by old stone walls, forgotten cemeteries, grand homes with shadowy pasts...all sparks for her imagination. Whether it’s a quaint seaside town or the vibrant city of Boston, it’s easy for this “hauntingly romantic” author to envision the past mingling with the present. No surprise, some of Kathryn’s favorite stories involve time travel. And ghosts! Sprinkle in some magic, and you’re off on a great adventure.

When not writing, this best-selling author is researching, gardening, or cooking up something special in her chaotic kitchen. She shares her colonial home in the north woods with those she loves most – her wonderful husband and daughter, and three crazy dogs.

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Amazon Author Page ~ BookBub
~ ~ ~
NANCY FRASER--Jumping Across Romance Genres with Gleeful Abandon--is an Amazon Top 100 and Award-Winning author who can’t seem to decide which romance genre suits her best. So, she writes them all.

Nancy has published over forty books in full-length, novella, and short format. When not writing (which is almost never), Nancy dotes on her five wonderful grandchildren and looks forward to traveling and reading when time permits. Nancy lives in Atlantic Canada where she enjoys the relaxed pace and colorful people.

Website ~ Blog ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Bookbub
Amazon Author Page ~ Goodreads ~ YouTube ~ Newsletter

Monday Memories: An Answered Prayer Of An Almost Third Grader

8/16/2021

My mom arrived in the Armpit after we'd been there one week. Which meant I didn't get out of taking naps anymore.

It also meant I had to eat spinach whenever my grandmother chose to cook it.

And shopping. We went shopping at Valley View Mall. Clothes shopping.

This was fun for Grandmother and Mom. They chatted, they got drinks, they pulled ridiculous looking clothes off racks and held them up to my chest. They chatted, they got drinks, they pulled hideous pink monstrosities off racks and bought them.

"Mom!" I cry. "Jeans and t-shirts. Jeans and t-shirts. Please....jeans and t-shirts!"

She shakes her head. "You will dress nicely, Kara Denise. Jeans and t-shirts are not appropriate school attire."

I groan. I moan. I beg and plead. It does no good.

So, here I am....in the Armpit, taking naps, eating spinach, and wearing pink slacks. I pray for a respite. I beg the Lord for a bright, shining moment where something will go my way.

After church, we head over to my great-grandmother's. She has a table set with various types of toasted bread. We run in and hug her. Before I tell you what she says to us, I simply must tell you that it is 9:30 a.m.

Great-grandmother, my namesake, says, "Did you have your ice cream?"

I smile. "Not yet, G.G."

"Go get your ice cream."

I dash off for the drug store, not worried at all that my mother will call me back and dispute G.G.

I laugh in glee and wicked excitement. God has helped me thwart my mother. Oh, happy day! Praying really does work!

Monday Memories: Moors y Cristianos

8/9/2021

She was born in 1892 in a valley in Spain. Her mother died when she was six. She left Spain when she was in her twenties and lived in Argentina and Cuba. She married her childhood sweetheart in 1919. She lived the remainder of her days in the Armpit. Which was a long time. She was 101 when she died. I was a senior in high school.

Dionisia. My great-grandmother.

I am named after her -- Kara Denise.

She was a plump woman with a ready laugh, a shy, quiet nature, and an overwhelming need to feed you. Her constant question, "Are you hungry?" was the first thing out of her mouth when she saw you.

Which worked out great for me because I was ALWAYS hungry.

One of my favorite stories about her centers around food. Beans and rice to be specific.

Beans and rice is a staple of the Catholic family during Lent. We don't eat meat on Fridays, so beans is our substitute. My great-grandmother made fantastic beans and rice, or "Moors y Cristianos" as she called it.

Into a bowl would go the rice -- or Cristianos. Then the beans -- or Moors. Separate cultures, a defined people -- which isn't what God intended -- who fought each other relentlessly.

Then she'd mix the beans into the rice -- just like the Moors mixed with the Cristianos. She would hand you the bowl and say, "See? Now you 'no can tell the deeference."

I loved her. Though she came to America and probably missed her home, never once did she expect you to embrace her culture in order for her to feel like she could practice it. She didn't scream her identity or force you to acknowledge the world she loved. She just was. She was an immigrant who had a great deal of respect for structure and opportunity in America. She became American. And loved her country. But...she was Spanish. And respected the people who came before her.

I was astounded by her. Truly impressed with how she risked changing her whole world for future happiness. She lived independently in Argentina, working and going to the opera, waiting for my great-grandfather to establish his business. Her strength humbled and inspired me. Her wisdom was unparalleled.

And there was one more reason to adore her --

My mother couldn't argue with her....

Release Day: The Deputy's Damsel

8/7/2021

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!

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.”

THE DEPUTY'S DAMSEL
Historical Romance

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.

BUY THE DEPUTY'S DAMSEL

Monday Memories: The Sights Of The Armpit

8/2/2021

Be sure to hold back your ooohs and ahhhs....

Let's take a tour around town.

As you come upon this town that time forgot, a drawbridge looms before you. It is in working order and provides a crossing over the arroyo. The road made a high humming sound as you went over. This noise could be translated into English by Wendy. The bridge usually said, "We missed you, Wendy!"

Once you're on the other side, to your left is the car wash my uncle made his riches from. Also to your left, across from the car wash, is the public library. You should not be surprised when I tell you Grandmother created that library. And ran it.

Main Street takes you through town. There's no reason to stop because there's no traffic. You pass by the junior high and the high school -- built with bricks. You pass a church -- Baptist. You pass the grocery store -- family owned.

Then you pass my granddad's business. The drugstore.

After that is the post office, and then a BUNCH of cotton and grapefruit.

There was a Luby's. Wait, no. If you wanted to eat at a restaurant, you had to go to the big city. Which we did. On Thursdays. After choir practice at St. Helen's. (Grandmother also directed the choir.)

When we went to Luby's we always got a table in the back. We were assured the area because she always went early to save the seats.

And by she....I mean my namesake.