Kara O'Neal
  • Home
  • Books
  • About
  • Blog
  • Coming Soon
  • Newsletter

Monday Memories: Not The Right "Fit"

1/2/2023

3 Comments

 
Picture
As I'm trying to get through fourth grade, including math, which just about destroyed me, I'm also trying to understand what's happening with my classmates.

Girls started to have boyfriends. And all the girls cared about their clothes so much. I had no idea how to keep up with them, and I was trying to figure out how to fit in without giving in.

I was astounded that the girls even knew about fashion. That they knew how to curl their hair. And used hairspray. And make-up.

How'd they learn that? When did they learn that?

I wasn't ready to care about boyfriends, fashion trends, or spending the weekends at the mall. I mean, we were only nine and ten years old. Doesn't that seem a little young to you to be worried about this stuff?
Nevertheless, it was happening. I didn't know how to ask my mom to help me, and I really didn't want to. And because I didn't want to fit myself into the clothes or their unmentioned club, I had nowhere to go.

And while the boys -- and my childhood crush -- sometimes let me play kickball, dodgeball, or baseball, I could tell I was doing the wrong thing. I lived in a constant state of anxiety -- Would the boys let me play with them at recess? If not, would they girls let me into their circle since I hadn't yet conformed to their way of doing things?

School became even harder to attend. It was a place that wasn't safe for me. I couldn't be who I wanted to, and I had no friends. Not really.

So, now, my dislike of school is no longer funny. It's just sad. Because while my teachers still plagued me with mind-numbing assignments and lectures, what was worse was the social ostracization. 

I got really quiet that year. Really, really quiet.

I watched. And I tried to learn.

But...still...I spent most of my fourth grade year on my own.

I'm sorry for the sad post, but, it's what happened. We all have those times that are harder, and we can't deny they happened. We also can't use them as a reason to ALWAYS be sad. But that is something I learned as I got older. (And it's also for another post.)

I can tell you that I'm just fine now, that things did get better. But it took a few years, because, you know, I'm stubborn.
3 Comments

Award Winner -- Felicity's Fortune

12/22/2022

8 Comments

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

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

When we visited St. Joseph, Missouri, we had to stop at Jesse James’ house. While I was walking through those rooms, I wondered about his wife.
 
She’d set up a house, cooked meals, raised children…and her husband was an outlaw. She knew what he was, and that surprised me. Of course, who knew how she felt about his choices, and I’m sure it was hard to leave him since she loved him.
 
But I thought…what if she hadn’t known? What if a woman had married a man who was an outlaw, and she discovered it…
 
And turned him in.
 
So…FELICITY’S FORTUNE was born.
 
I had to give her a mighty hero, and Butch Wilder grew in my mind’s eye. And he’s a good one. He had to be a little sinful, though, but he’s got a big, big, big heart!
 
I loved writing this story. Felicity’s daughters are the cutest little things.
 
I also enjoyed sending Felicity to Hell’s Half Acre, because God bless Texas, but that place was scary. It belonged in a book.

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


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

Picture
FELICITY’S FORTUNE
Gamblers & Gunslingers
Historical Romance

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

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

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

​

FELICITY’S FORTUNE: AN EXCERPT

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

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

“Are you Mr. Wilder?”

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

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

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

She looked him over.

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

“Do you know who I am?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Butch’s mind whirled with the implications.

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

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

Hell. That was damned laughable.

PURCHASE FELICITY'S FORTUNE

8 Comments

Wednesday Words: Jesse and the Mail Order Bride by Caroline Clemmons

10/19/2022

8 Comments

 
I adore mail order bride romances and can't wait to read Caroline Clemmons' newest release, Jesse and the Mail Order Bride! This is a sweet, historical romance that is sure to tug on your hear strings. Let's hear more!
​

Picture
Jesse and the Mail Order Bride
​Sweet, Historical Romance


What will happen when her lawman husband learns the truth about her criminal past?

Sheriff Jesse Cameron is dedicated to uphold the law of his adopted country. After leaving Scotland, he came to Texas, and learned he liked the place and the people—at least, most of them. He keeps Harrigan County free of troublemakers with his “strict but fair” policy. Now that he has a steady job and has bought a house, he figures it’s time to find a wife and start a family. He and his best friend write to the same matchmaker, hoping their brides will be sisters or friends. Jesse hopes his wife will provide a peaceful home and welcome him each evening with a good meal and a warm smile.

Growing up in an orphanage left Rosalin Arnold too naïve to avoid being trapped in the clutches of an evil man who has her picking pockets. Those who’ve tried to escape him always fail, and are severely punished—or killed.
Rosalin has been plotting to get away, and seizes her chance to escape. She takes her best friend with her, and also a boy of eight. All she and her friends want is a home where they can live without constant fear. She prays she has successfully evaded the man who has tentacles everywhere.

What will happen when her past catches up with her, and she’s forced to confess everything to Jesse? Of course Jesse will defend her, but will he forgive her lies?
​
Picture
Jesse and the Mail Order Bride: An Excerpt

He hurried up to his front door and stopped short. Did he knock? This was his house, but he didn’t want to scare her.

While he deliberated, the door opened and a wee lad stared up at him. The boy scrutinized his badge, then his face. “You must be Sheriff Jesse Cameron.”

He stepped inside and took off his hat. “That’s right. You must be Rosalin’s nephew.”

“Yes, sir. I’m Henry Bernard. Did you get the bad guys?”

“We did.” He hit at his leg with his hat as he looked around the parlor. Furniture had been moved and decorations added. Odd feeling, being treated like a guest in his own home. “Um, is your aunt here?”

“I am.” She swished into the room and smiled at him. “I hope you don’t mind that we’ve stayed here in your absence.”

His tongue tangled and he couldn’t form a sentence. While he gaped at the prettiest woman he’d ever met, the boy took his hat from him and hung it on the hat tree.

She gestured to the kitchen. “Mrs. Pickard brought over a pie this morning. She thought you’d be back today.”

He managed to say, “I… I better wash up. Dinnae usually look like this. Had a rough few days.” He washed up at the kitchen sink, wondering if that was all right. Wait—this was his house.

PURCHASE JESSE AND THE MAIL ORDER BRIDE
​
Picture
Caroline Clemmons

​Through a crazy twist of fate, Caroline Clemmons was not born on a Texas ranch. To compensate for this illogical error, she writes about handsome western heroes, feisty and adventurous women, and scheming villains in a small office her family calls her cave. She and her Hero live in North Central Texas cowboy country where they ride herd on their rescued pets—two cats and a dog.

The books she creates in her cave have made her an Amazon bestselling author and won several awards. She writes sweet to sensual romances about the West, both historical and contemporary as well as time travel and mystery. When she’s not writing, she loves spending time with her family, reading her friends’ books, lunching with friends, browsing antique malls, checking Facebook, and taking an occasional nap. Find her on her blog, website, Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Pinterest.

Click on her Amazon Author Page for a complete list of her books and follow her there.

Follow her on BookBub.

Subscribe to Caroline’s newsletter here to receive a FREE novella of HAPPY IS THE BRIDE, a humorous historical wedding disaster that ends happily—but you knew it would, didn’t you?

She loves to hear from readers at caroline @ carolineclemmons .com

8 Comments

Wednesday Words: Kyleigh's Cowboy by Pamela S. Thibodeaux

10/5/2022

16 Comments

 
One of my favorite authors is here to tell us about her new release, KYLEIGH'S COWBOY. I've read this story, and it's wonderful. Filled with love and second chances, and set on a ranch, it'll give you all the feels!!! So, let's have Ms. Thibodeaux give us a taste of this beautiful story!
​
Picture
KYLEIGH'S COWBOY
Contemporary Romance

She’s attempting to start a new life. He’s roamed for more than a decade. Can they let go of the past and grab hold of the future?


Seven years after the death of her husband, Kyleigh Winters turned their old vacation home into a brand new guest ranch. Not willing to join the ranks of lonely women trolling the bars or online in search of a man, Kyleigh is sure if God wishes her to have another husband, He’ll send the perfect someone in His own time. But will she be open to the possibility of new love when He does?

Searching for a place that calls to his soul, Lance Stevens has been a roaming cowboy for ten years since retiring from the Marines. He finds that sanctuary the moment he drives through the Silver Star’s gate and meeting the lovely owner speaks to more than his soul. Will he open to the healing power of love?
Get Pamela Thibodeaux's second chance romance novella today and see how love and faith conquers all!

KYLEIGH'S COWBOY:
AN EXCERPT


The two women walked from Kyleigh’s log cabin to the two-story wood and stone ranch house. Already, guests mingled in the adjoining dining and lodge rooms. More spilled out onto the huge veranda that wrapped around the front and one side of the building.

“Mercy.”

Admiration laced Ramona’s voice. Kyleigh glanced at her daughter then turned to see what she gawked at. Her son-in-law, flanked by a cowboy, strolled toward them. Her heart did an irrational little twirl, pulse scrambled into high gear. Kyleigh bit back her own murmur of appreciation of the lean physique, muscled forearms and bulging biceps poured into the shirt stretched across a broad chest. Her fingers itched to stroke the salt and pepper hair peeking out from under his hat and curled over his collar. Smooth shaven for the most part, the man’s tanned cheeks hinted at a five o’clock shadow just below the surface. Sexy. Kyleigh shook herself mentally as the two men approached.

“I think we’ve found our wrangler.” Robert said. “Ladies, meet Lance Stevens. Lance, my wife, Ramona Evans and…” He grinned and bowed low, then rose with a flourish of one arm toward Kyleigh. “Mistress of the Silver Star, my mother-in-law, Kyleigh Winters.”

​Eyes the color of dark roasted coffee swept over her in a gaze as potent as a caress, then locked with hers. Lance tipped his hat and grinned. A dimple creased his cheek. “Ma’am,” he drawled.

PURCHASE KYLEIGH'S COWBOY

Kyleigh's Cowboy releases 10/18 but you can PreOrder Your copy today from one of the following locations....
​
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BF627TZF
BB: https://www.bookbub.com/books/kyleigh-s-cowboy-by-pamela-s-thibodeaux
GR: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/62590658-kyleigh-s-cowboy



Picture
PAMELA S. THIBODEAUX
​

Award-winning author, Pamela S. Thibodeaux is the Co-Founder and a lifetime member of Bayou Writers Group in Lake Charles, Louisiana. Multi-published in romantic fiction as well as creative non-fiction, her writing has been tagged as, “Inspirational with an Edge!” ™ and reviewed as “steamier and grittier than the typical Christian novel without decreasing the message.” Sign up to receive Pam’s 
newsletter and get a FREE short story! http://bit.ly/psthibnewsletter

 
Social Media Links:
FB Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/pamelasthibodeauxauthor
Twitter: http://twitter.com/psthib @psthib
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/pamelasthibodea/
Amazon Author Page:  https://www.amazon.com/Pamela-S-Thibodeaux/e/B002BM045Q/
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/pamela-s-thibodeaux
Instagram: https://instagram.com/pamelasthibodeauxauthor
Good Reads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1268453.Pamela_S_Thibodeaux
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/pamelasthibodeaux/

16 Comments

Wednesday Words: Ten Minutes In The Sin Bin by MJ Schiller

9/14/2022

11 Comments

 
I'm so pleased to host M.J. Schiller and her new release, TEN MINUTES IN THE SIN BIN, which is book one in the DEVILISH DESIRES series. M.J. writes exceptional contemporary romance with relatable characters and witty dialogue. Let's hear more about her new romance!

Scott McCord always got what he wanted. The trouble is, he doesn’t know what that is this time.

Picture
TEN MINUTES IN THE THE SIN BIN
CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
DEVILISH DESIRES SERIES
BOOK 1


Scottie McCord is an NHL forward who doesn’t do a lot of looking back. But when Elise Scofield moves to the same West Coast city he plays for, he can’t help but reminisce.


I’m psyched Elise will be close by. She’s a lot of fun, and I need to get the 411 on her breakup with Hunter. I warned him when they first started dating that I would be none too happy with him if he hurt Elise. Not that I have a thing for her. Sure, that kiss when we were kids was the hottest moment of my life, but that’s just because it was a first. She’s like a sister to me now.

Elise Scofield is making a fresh start. A move to sunny California may be just what she needs, especially with Scott there.

Scottie and I have always been close, “two straws in a soda” is my mom’s weird way of putting it. We’ve gotten over that awkwardness of having kissed a long time ago, and fallen into an easy brother-and-sister-type of relationship. He’s the best. And who knows? He might even introduce me to an eligible hockey player or two.

But when Scott’s teammate says he’d like to spend TEN MINUTES IN THE SIN BIN with Elise, Scott becomes hot enough to melt the ice that he plays on. Then when Scott finds out his opposite winger is only trying to win a bet by bedding Elise, he wants to check his teammate into oblivion. But why are his feelings always so amped up around Elise?

One thing’s for certain; he’s determined to keep Sergei from hurting Elise. And when he’s determined, he gets what he wants.
​
The only problem is...this time around he’s not sure what it is he wants.  
​
​
Picture
TEN MINUTES IN THE SIN BIN: AN EXCERPT

I put the puck on the ice between us and hoped to catch her gaze, but she was focused. Her lips were in motion; she was strategizing. I chortled. “You’re so cute when you think you have a chance of winning.”

“Shut up and play.”

I raised my brows. Ooh, touchy.

We tapped ice, then stick, ice, then stick, ice, then stick, and then with lightning speed she got the puck. In her excitement, though, she let the puck get away from her. Rookie mistake. She had to go deep into the corner to regain control, which gave me the opportunity to get in position in front of the net. Our eyes met. She knew it was over. If she took a shot, I wouldn’t let it go in, and I’d take it to the other end before she’d finished her follow-through. She skated warily to the blue line, giving herself time to think, then poured it on, weaving across the ice, going backhand to forehand and back, honed in on me, hoping I’d commit one way or another. I opened my legs to give her a glimpse of the five-hole and she bought it, taking her shot. I didn’t have goalie’s pillows to seal it off, but I still managed to block it. Elise lost an edge and went sliding into the boards with a loud thud. She moaned, lying face down on the ice.

“Elise!” Forgetting everything else I sprinted to her side. “Are you okay?”

“Oh.” She lifted her head, grimacing. “What happened?” she said shakily. She got on all fours.

I tried to assess the level of damage. “Where does it hurt?”

“Umm…” She lunged to her right, hooking the puck with the blade of her stick and swung it into the net. “Yes!”

It took me a second to realize I’d been had. “Wait. That didn’t count.”

“I didn’t hear any whistle, so the play was not dead. I won.” She rolled onto her butt and extended her arm for me to help her up.

I jerked her to her feet and again her closeness made my throat tighten. “I should have dumped you on your butt.”

She removed her bucket, shaking free all of that gorgeous hair and grinning at me. “Yes. You should have.” She tapped my lips with her finger. “But you didn’t.”

I really, really wanted to kiss her. Like, knock her onto the ice and rip off her pads. And rip off my pads. And touch her smooth skin. And feel her lips under mine. And--

“Are you coming?”

She had glided about halfway across the ice and had pivoted, looking at me with a little cocky lift of her chin. I let out a scream that was partially a deep-throated yowl, partially an unidentifiable shout and rushed her. She shrieked and jumped then tried to race away from me, but I caught her at the boards where she had been hindered by opening the gate, trapping her in my arms, my mouth at her ear.

​“You, my dear, are a cheat.”

PURCHASE TEN MINUTES IN THE SIN BIN
AMAZON

NOOK
BOOKS2READ
KOBO
ITUNES


Picture
M.J. SCHILLER

M.J. Schiller is a lunch lady/romance-romantic suspense writer. She enjoys writing novels whose characters include rock stars, desert princes, teachers, futuristic Knights, construction workers, cops, and a wide variety of others. In her mind everybody has a romance. She is the mother of a twenty-seven-year-old and three twenty-five-year-olds. That's right, triplets! So having recently taught four children to drive, she likes to escape from life on occasion by pretending to be a rock star at karaoke. However…you won’t be seeing her name on any record labels soon. 

Website: https://mjschillerauthor.blogspot.com/
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/m-j-schiller
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/MJ-Schiller-Romance-Author/286382241460365?ref=hl
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/mjschiller/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/mjschiller
Tumblr: http://mjschilz.tumblr.com/
Instagram: https://instagram.com/mjschiller
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6479377.M_J_Schiller
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/M-J-Schiller/e/B009JOQFQQ


11 Comments

Monday Memories: The Times...They're Changing

8/22/2022

2 Comments

 
Picture
I'm nine. And I've learned a devastating truth...

Time goes by fast when you're happy. Which meant that after I blinked ten times, summer came to an end.

I had to go back to school. With short hair. And an incomplete understanding of this new craze about some movie called, Flashdance.

Thus started my fourth grade year.

I also discovered that girls no longer wanted to run around, so if I was going to have any fun, the boys would have to include me. Which they didn't really want to do.

My teacher didn't think much of me and often looked at me with an expression of equal parts displeasure and disapproval. She was young and fancy, and I wasn't the type of girl who had it all together. She liked the students who had it all together.
The cherry on top was that my crush, my Bo Duke, was in my homeroom. So I spent many days in giddy anticipation that he might talk to me, or tease me, or invite me to play kickball or baseball or dodgeball.

And...he did. He was always nice to me. So I didn't mind suffering through my teacher's dislike and the other girls' stupid fanciness with their hair and their clothes and their "valley girl" talk.

I just kept being Kara. Because I didn't know how to do the other stuff, and Bo seemed to like me just fine.
2 Comments

Release Day: Cora Lee's Wager by Kara O'Neal

8/8/2022

4 Comments

 
​CORA LEE’S WAGER is finally here! Book 3 in the GAMBLERS & GUNSLINGERS series was quite a surprise. I had no idea the book would go in the direction it did, and I must say, it was quite exciting.
 
Cora Lee suffers through the death of her entire family in a yellow fever epidemic. Then her wealthy and formidable grandmother refuses to take her in. She becomes the ward of Frederick Tucker, who is also the father of four rowdy boys.
 
Cora becomes a member of the Tucker family quickly, and ends up falling for the oldest boy, Graham. And he falls for her.
 
But before they can go forward with their future, Cora is sent away. She ends up in an orphanage, and eventually becomes…
 
The “Angel of the Acre”. Hell’s Half Acre, that is.
 
She’s the gambler in this romance. Which was interesting, to say the least. A spot at her table is coveted, but her hero, the man she’s always loved despite the pain he’s caused her, is pretty straight-laced. And when he comes to find her, at the behest of her wealthy grandmother, Cora’s mettle is tested on many levels.
 
I adored writing Cora. I loved giving her and Graham their happy ending. They have to defeat more than one foe to have the future they’ve always wanted, but Graham is determined and won’t let anything stand in their way. Including Cora’s own fears.
 
It’s a beautiful story about second chances and the power of love. Happy reading!
​
Picture
CORA LEE'S WAGER
Historical Romance
Gamblers & Gunslingers
Book 3


Cora Lee Walsh. The Angel of the Acre--Hell’s Half Acre—never intended to be a professional gambler. But her wealthy grandmother hadn’t wanted her, and, at fifteen, she was abandoned by the Tucker family who’d taken her in as their ward. She had no other choice than to make vice her life. Now, the eldest son of the Tucker family is on her doorstep, asking for an audience.
 
Graham Tucker loved Cora to distraction, and when she ran away, it destroyed him. Twelve years later, he’s been ordered by Iona Evans, Cora’s grandmother, to bring Cora back to Houston. He’d rather chew glass. But Iona owns half his business, and she’s willing to sell her shares to him if he’s successful. Graham takes the deal.
When Cora and Graham meet again, they both fight old feelings. And Graham finds himself across the betting table from her, making a wager he can’t afford to lose.
 
But more threatens the pair, and Cora finds herself needing Graham. Can she trust him? The young man who’d abandoned her? Or will she find herself a victim…again?
​

CORA LEE'S WAGER: AN EXCERPT

Cora rocked lightly as birds twittered and flitted about. A fox trotted across her yard, and she smiled at the creature. Its red coat contrasted with the green of the short grass and the orange of the Indian paintbrushes that grew in patches.

This heavenly spot, ironically so close to hell on Earth, couldn’t be duplicated anywhere else. It was one of the reasons why she’d stayed and hadn’t sold the house after Butler had died.

She let out a sigh, sank deeper into the rocker, opened her book and just enjoyed the morning. A half-hour had passed when she felt a presence to her right. She turned her head, and her breath flew up into her throat.

Graham!

He stood on the dirt lane that went by the side of her home, his hands in his pockets, a guarded expression on his face. Their past stretched between them.

In a second, every morning she’d ever spent with him flashed before her eyes. They’d both loved the dawn. Those quiet hours before the world started. And they’d shared them together in his father’s library or on the porch just beyond the French doors.

And he must’ve decided to take a chance and see if she still woke with the sunrise.

She managed to drag in a breath but couldn’t move. She needed to get inside, hide herself from the pain he caused her. But her feet wouldn’t listen.

With a tight jaw, he took a few steps, and now he was in her yard, but still on the fringes.

He didn’t want to get close to her, either.

Well…

They’d sent her away, hadn’t they? She shouldn’t be surprised he didn’t want to see her.

So why was he subjecting them to this torture?

“Good morning,” he rumbled.

Her stomach clenched at the sound of his voice. It was deeper than she remembered.

“I need to speak with you,” he continued. He removed his hat, revealing his dark brown hair that fell attractively over his forehead.

The suit he wore helped cut him into a powerful figure. She was certain he was capable. Intelligent. Probably took care of things efficiently and to his satisfaction, regardless of whom he hurt.

He was a man now. And she thrilled at the sight of him.

Panic gripped her, and she squared her shoulders instantly, needing to get away from him, or she might beg him to explain what she’d done wrong. “I doubt we have anything to say to each other.” She twisted her lips into a sardonic smile. “You’re not someone with whom I choose to associate any longer.”

Oh, praise the Lord! She’d found the Angel of the Acre, and she would use her to block her desperation for this man.

He flinched and stiffened. “Look,” he growled, “I’ve got important business with you, and—”

“I can’t imagine why.” She shrugged. “There’s nothing you have that I could want, and I’m not interested in learning why you disagree.”

He curled his hands into fists, crushing the brim of his hat. “Maybe not, but you could at least hear me out.”
She laughed as if she hadn’t a care or concern for him. “I don’t think so. I only do business over a poker table.”

Disgust flashed in his eyes.

Good. Perhaps he would leave her alone now.

“So I’ve learned,” he spat. “Gambling is an abomination.”

She smirked. “And one I adore. There’s nothing like discovering your opponent’s weaknesses and taking him for everything he has.”

She’d never willingly done that. Or she hoped she hadn’t. She couldn’t control a man’s behavior or choices.

Graham let out a noise of disgust. “Fools. All of you.”

She shrugged. “At least we’re having a good time.”

Something shone in his eyes that she couldn’t name, but she didn’t want to look too deeply anyway. She needed to get him to leave. “Your errand is more foolish than any wager I could make,” she told him. “Best be on your way and find someone else to have your discussion with.”

He glared at her for a few silent moments. “Are you telling me that you truly only conduct business at a poker table?”

She grinned. “It’s no fun otherwise.”

With a frustrated exhale, he shoved his fingers through his hair.

Her heart flipped at its mussed state. My God. He’s gorgeous.

When he faced her again, she schooled her features back into a careless mask.

“Fine,” he ground out. “I’d like to enter tonight’s game.”

She laughed. “You can’t be serious?”

​“If that’s the only way I can speak to you, then it’s what I’ll do.”


PURCHASE CORA LEE'S WAGER

4 Comments

Release Day: Evaline's Grit by Kara O'Neal

7/20/2022

2 Comments

 
​Allow me to introduce you to Evaline Cameron, the daughter of the General Store owner, a share-all who takes care of those who are sick, plans as many social gatherings as she can, and has too much curiosity for her own good. She is the heroine of EVALINE’S GRIT, book 14 in the RECLUSIVE MAN series.
 
I adored writing this type of character! Optimistic, kind, determined and, honestly, quite courageous.
 
I needed someone who could draw out a recluse, and it had to be a person who understood that love is the most important thing. She had to have experienced her own loss, so she could identify with what grief can do to a heart, and she absolutely had to have grit. Especially when dealing with a stubborn, but gentle, fellow like Jack Walsh.
 
EVALINE’S GRIT also has an element of mystery. There is a murder that needs solving, and because Evaline doesn’t give up on Jack, he learns the truth to his past.
 
It was a joy to bring these characters their happy ending! Happy reading!
Picture
EVALINE'S GRIT
Historical Romance
Reclusive Man Series
Book 14


From award-winning author Kara O’Neal, comes her first sweet and clean historical romance, Evaline’s Grit.

Grape, Texas, 1885
Evaline Cameron works in her father’s dry goods store, and the establishment is the social center of the town where she shines as the hostess. She includes everyone in her joy, and much to her father’s dismay, wants to draw out the reclusive and elusive gentleman living in a shrouded cottage on the outskirts of town—Jack Walsh. For a reason she can’t explain, she senses Mr. Walsh needs her. And he’s too vital, too handsome to spend his life shut away. She’s going to befriend him. She’s going to learn his secrets and help him. Even if it means putting herself in harm’s way.
EVALINE'S GRIT: AN EXCERPT

​Something hammered at the back of his head. He groaned and rose, but a gentle touch pressed his shoulder.

“Don’t try to move too fast.”

Alarm flashed up his spine, and his eyes shot open. His breath caught when he found an angel hovering over him. Evaline Cameron.

“How do you feel?” the vision asked, her face drawn in lines of concern and care. “What hurts?”

With her leaning over him? Nothing. And everything. As his head pounded, so did his pulse. He had to send her away. Now. “Could you…scoot back please?”

Apology shone in her wary brown eyes, and she did as he asked.

Slowly, he pushed to sit, then lifted his hand and touched the spot that burned at the back of his head. He pulled his fingers away, and some blood coated his skin.

She gasped. “Here. Press it gently to the spot.”

He glanced at her, then down at the wet handkerchief she held out to him. He hesitated. But he needed something to stop the bleeding, so with his eyes averted from her, he took the linen. He gingerly placed it on the wound, wishing the hammering would stop.

Of course, it didn’t help that the woman who tempted him to rejoin life knelt near him. She had as much to do with the battering going on in his body as his injury.

“What happened?” she asked.

He couldn’t have a conversation with her. He had to get her to leave. “Doesn’t matter. I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” she argued gently. “You were unconscious.”

He moved to stand. “That’s passed. I appreciate your kindness.”

She’d also risen, her face filled with concern and alarm.

But he ignored what he saw and tried to give her handkerchief back. However, the blood staining the linen gave him pause. “I apologize. I’ll wash it and leave it with the bottles when your father delivers supplies next week.” He lowered his arm.

“Mr. Walsh, I think I ought to make sure you’re all right and fetch the doctor. Knocks on the head can be dangerous.” She smoothed a palm over her stomach, then linked her fingers together and rested her hands against her skirt.

He’d experienced worse. “I’ll be fine. Thank you for your care.”

With a look of uncertainty, she bit her lip. “No gratitude is necessary. I was glad to be here, even though seeing you lying on the ground like that frightened me.”

He grimaced. “I’m sorry about that.” If he’d been paying better attention, he wouldn’t have smashed his skull against the bottom of the upper half of the outside cupboard he used to store supplies.

She shook her head. “No need to apologize. Really.”

He needed to ask her to go. Now. He drew in a breath, but she interjected with, “You’re so alone out here that I worry for you. What if you get hurt worse than this? No one would be around to help you.”

Which suited him. He didn’t deserve to live after killing a husband, father and friend. A good man. “I’m capable of caring for myself.”

“Yes, but—”

Despite the throbbing in his head, he lifted a hand and said firmly, “Miss Cameron, I’m fine. Please, return to town.”

PURCHASE EVALINE'S GRIT

Picture
2 Comments

Rules of Engagement by Claire O'Sullivan

7/12/2022

4 Comments

 
We're a day early for Wednesday Words, but I wanted to introduce y'all to new author, Claire O'Sullivan. Her new release, RULES OF ENGAGEMENT, sounds like a winner and a great read for summer! Let's hear more about it...

RULES OF ENGAGEMENT is the first of the Ravenclaw series, a work that I’ve wanted to put together since 2014. The research was done, with some scenes complete, but the novel itself took a lot of rewriting into more conspiracies and theories to fictionalize it, and catching up to the present. And more research.

I’m great at conspiracy theories and can weave a credible theory from a monarch butterfly swirling around a flower. Since there are so many conspiracies, or conspiracy theories in the world – all at the same time, I figured it was time to start weaving. I think I got them all, all in fiction, of course <cough>.

Now I’m retired and can work on all the novels I’ve started. I live next door to a ranch, so I see a possible story in that one too. Yes, I need help. Psychiatric help. Besides my obvious psychopathy, I am a voracious reader and writer. I write mostly police procedurals, go figure, right?

​I have a very slight addiction to social media. I have an author page where I only post author stuff, and a main page where my comments often occasionally land me in Facebook jail time out <cough>. 
​
Picture
RULES OF ENGAGEMENT
Ravenclaw Series

​Army Ranger Scott Walker believes missions have been compromised. He believes someone or ‘someones’ are leaking vital military information to the Taliban. When he is tasked to protect an unpredictable scientist and find out where the plague is coming from, it is the worst case scenario. With no time to talk to her rationally, there is only one option: kidnapping. His biggest problem isn’t seemingly gaining her trust, it’s protection from her abilities. And temptation. He’s not great at winning friends and influencing people as a protection detail. Not the Army’s way. Not his way.
 
A wealthy family and politically motivated family decides to bring the world to its knees and make a killing. Both literally and figuratively. An airborne strain of Ebola has taken hold. The DoD suspects it’s terrorist funded. No one suspects a governor of multiple murders.
Cheyenne Keyes is a low-level microbiologist with a genius-automated program. She doesn’t believe Scott Walker is a protection detail. Instead, he has got to be a cultist or committing industrial espionage.
 
When she becomes infected with a spliced Ebola virus, she is certain the deathblow is imminent and works feverishly with her Israeli mentor to find a cure.

Scott returns to the field, and one after another, he finds his team endangered by leaks to enemy combatants. He must overcome his doubts in his leadership to find the leak.

Cheyenne must overcome her mistrust of the Army Ranger who said he was trying to save her life. It’s a pandemic, and Keyes, as she lays dying, wonders what might have been had she trusted Scott.

​Scott must stop the family bent on deconstructing the country with a bioweapon and find a way back to Cheyenne before she dies.   
​
RULES OF ENGAGEMENT: AN EXCERPT

Cheyenne grabbed her pepper spray and found her phone. Shallow breaths. Now deep breaths. No black zone. She raised her head. The taxi driver now began to swing his gun around.

Another crack! from outside the taxi. The cabby flew back into the driver’s side window as Cheyenne dialed 911.
The phone rang. Then again. And once again. Nothing but dead air.

Her gut clenched. She opened the back driver’s side handle. Locked.

Seriously?   


The man with the hoodie opened the driver’s seat door and pushed the cabby’s body into the passenger side, and yanked Cheyenne by her coat to the passenger side of the car, pushing her back. He trained his gun on her.
“Phone. Hand me the phone.”

She swallowed and held onto it.

He pushed the barrel to her forehead. “I said, phone.” 
 
Cheyenne slammed his wrist into the passenger window with one hand and pepper-sprayed him in the face. She dropped the spray into her lap and grabbed the back of his neck with the other, repeatedly banging it into the front of the headrest.

She yelled through gritted teeth, “You picked the wrong scientist.”

He grasped her by the throat. She grabbed his pinkie finger and pulled it backwards, then bit into the fleshy part of his palm. She drove her open hand into his face.

Scott lunged forward, freeing her surprisingly powerful grip from his gun hand and head butted her, knocking her backwards.

Cheyenne clapped a hand to her head and slung vile words at him.

“I did not want to do that.”

She yelled, “Oh yeah, you were forced.” More odious words.    

He swept up her phone, tossed it into the ditch, and left the front seat.

Opening the passenger door, he said, “If I have to knock you unconscious, I will, but if you keep your mouth shut, this will go a lot smoother.” He slid his Glock into its concealed holster, pulled her up to the rear seat, and duct-taped her hands and mouth.

Her eyes seeped fury. Eyes narrowed, nostrils flared, she directed a withering glare at him.

He yanked Cheyenne from the back seat, crooking his arm around her neck. He popped the hood of the trunk, and said, “Sit on the edge and I’ll help you in.”

She shook her head. “Mmmph-mmmph! Mmmph… oooh!”

“Fine, have it your way.” He picked her up, but even with hands and feet secured, she fought against him, attempting to kick, and still swearing through the duct tape. Scott lifted her and dumped her into the back without ceremony.  

“I’ll explain everything when you cool down,” he said.

“Cooo daw? Cooo daw?”

“Yes. Cool down.” He slammed the trunk lid, slid into the driver’s seat of the cab, and wiped the blood from his lip. He pulled the taxi back onto the street and headed towards home her safe house for now. With only one way in or out: through him. Oh, she’ll love that, all right.

PURCHASE RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

PURCHASE ROMANCE UNDER WRAPS


Picture
BIO: CLAIRE O'SULLIVAN

​You can find and subscribe to my website/newsletters at claireosullivan1.com, my Twitter: (21) Claire O'Sullivan (@authorclaire1) / Twitter; Facebook: (my non-PC page) - (20+) Claire O'Sullivan | Facebook and author page: (20+) Author Claire O'Sullivan | Facebook.

Since I am very unoriginal, you can find me on Instagram; http://authorclaireosullivan1.com/ and on MeWe (99+)MeWe - The Next-Gen Social Network due to FB infractions vacations.

​And my least visited and very lonely blog, 
Claire O'Sullivan – Suspense … Romance (claire-osullivan-author.com) primarily because I haven’t spent the money to get high traffic from Google. So visit it! It also has links.
4 Comments

Wednesday Words: Reinventing Riley by Liz Flaherty

6/1/2022

4 Comments

 
Hello, my fellow bookworms! Today we have Liz Flaherty sharing her newest release, REINVENTING RILEY. I'm excited to host Liz and her new contemporary romance. She writes very real and relatable characters. I'm sure y'all will enjoy learning about this book!
Picture

REINVENTING RILEY
CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE

Rye Winters grew up in Chicago, and she loves it there. After many years in a small-town subdivision, the forty-something widow is champing at the bit to go back. She’s sold her business and her house and made plans right down to the kind of apartment she wants to lease or buy—no more lawn-mowing or weed-eating for her! She’s not going to need a car—which is great because she hates to drive. She’d reinvented herself once—she could hardly wait to do it again.

But before making her final move, she goes to Fallen Soldier, Pennsylvania, population 2922, to be her best friend’s “widow of honor” in her wedding.

Where she meets the preacher, falls in love with a cottage on the lake, and can’t stop looking at a downtown building that has so many possibilities. Hmm…
He’s afraid a second time at love wouldn’t live up to his first. She’s afraid a second round would be exactly like her first.

Pastor Jake McAlister and businesswoman Riley Winters are in their forties and widowed. Neither is interested in a relationship. They both love Fallen Soldier, the small Pennsylvania town where they met, even though Rye plans to move to Chicago, and Jake sees a change in pastorates not too far down the road. Enjoying a few-weeks friendship is something they both look forward to.

However, there is an indisputable attraction between the green-eyed pastor and the woman with a shining sweep of chestnut hair. Then there’s the Culp, an old downtown building that calls unrelentingly to Rye’s entrepreneurial soul. And when a young man named Griff visits Jake, life changes in the blink of a dark green eye.
Picture

​REINVENTING RILEY: AN EXCERPT

He walked her to the door and waited while she unlocked it.

She looked up. “Do you want a glass of wine?” While being alone seldom bothered her, the evening ahead looked long with only Hagar for company. “Maybe watch a movie? I start watching Christmas movies on Thanksgiving night, so I guarantee you’ll have plenty of opportunity to roll your eyes.”

He hesitated long enough for it to hurt, and she drew back. “Never mind. You don’t have—”

“I want to,” he said. “Maybe a little more than is good for either of us. I don’t want to let you in for the gossip that often goes along with dating a single pastor.”

The relief made her feel a little silly. “Probably not as much as if I dated a married one.”

But who was talking about dating? He was a dedicated minister with little left over to offer to a relationship. Besides, the sudden appearance of the boy called Griff was enough for him to have on his mind. Not that Rye didn’t want to spend time with Jake, but dating and depth didn’t go together for her. Sometimes, when she allowed herself to worry about things, she worried that she wasn’t capable of depth.

She wasn’t going to think about that now. She was going to think about wine and cheese while watching the 1951 version of A Christmas Carol. If a handsome man sat on the loveseat beside her, that was all right. That’s all, just all right.

“So?” She hated the breathiness of her voice that made her sound like the stereotype of a beauty pageant winner. She wasn’t the breathy type. Breathiness went with depth, didn’t it?

“So, would you like me to open the wine? I’m good with a corkscrew.”

They still stood inside the door, the lights on the Christmas tree she’d put up the night before lending ambiance to the little house. “Yes,” she said. “I’ll slice some cheese. Do you have a favorite?”

“White kinds. I might not be too knowledgeable about cheese.”

“Do you like Christmas songs?”

“Is the Pope Catholic?”

Rye’s list of holiday music played softly as they worked together in the tiny kitchen, bumping into each other every minute or so and laughing each time. It wasn’t self-conscious, the laughter, and she reveled in it. How long it had been since she shared that particular kind of joy with a man she…liked? Yes, liked. No more, no less.

After the third clashing of elbows, Jake set down the glasses he’d taken out of the cupboard and took the knife from her hand. “Let’s do this,” he said, and took her into his arms. Not close or tight, but warm, and danced with her through the kitchen and hallway, ending in the glow from soft light from the tree in the living room. They stood, swaying together.

“Your eyes,” he said, “are extraordinarily blue.”

“Yours are extraordinarily green.” His sweater, the same color as his eyes, was soft under her hands, covering shoulders and arms more muscular than she had expected. He was just the right height to dance with, too. Looking up didn’t hurt her neck, but he was enough taller than she to reduce her tendency to lead. “Is this our first date?”

He looked thoughtful. “No. Actually, I think we’ve had several. We’ve just kind of avoided calling them that.”

“That’s good then.” She sounded breathy again, but the truth was, she was feeling a little winded by his proximity and how it made her feel. “Because, I wouldn’t want to be known as someone who…you know…would kiss on the first date.”

“No, that wouldn’t be good, would it?” His arms tightened. “But maybe after several dates it would be okay?”

“I think so. A nice kiss goes well with wine and cheese and Ebenezer Scrooge’s story.”

“Does it?” His lips, warm and firm, met hers then. Searching. Tasting. Releasing. For a moment. “If one goes well, how would they be with two?”

“Oh.” She raised her hands, threading them through his thick, soft hair. “I think they’d be even better.”

The wine, cheese, and movie were wonderful after four kisses, splendid after five. The wine had had plenty of time to breathe and the cheese had warmed so that its flavor was rich and its consistency creamy.

Kind of like the kisses. Not the creamy part, but warm and rich and leaving her with a wish for more.

PURCHASE REINVENTING RILEY

Picture
BIO: LIZ FLAHERTY

USA Today bestselling author Liz Flaherty started writing in the fourth grade when her Aunt Gladys allowed her to use her portable Royal typewriter. The truth was that her aunt would have let her do anything to get her out of her hair, but the typewriter and the stories it could produce caught on, and Liz never again had a day without a what if… in it.

She and Duane, her husband of at least forever, live in a farmhouse in central Indiana, sharing grown children, spoiled cats, and their grandkids, the Magnificent Seven. (Don’t get her started on them—you’ll be here all day.)
To find out more about her, stop by http://lizflaherty.net/ or sign up for her newsletter at http://eepurl.com/df7dhP. 


​http://lizflaherty.net/
http://www.facebook.com/lizkflaherty
https://twitter.com/LizFlaherty1
http://wordwranglers.blogspot.com/
http://windowoverthesink.blogspot.com/
https://www.amazon.com/Liz-Flaherty/e/B001J919R4%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3336348.Liz_Flaherty
https://www.bookbub.com/authors/liz-flaherty
https://www.instagram.com/lizkflaherty/?hl=en
4 Comments
<<Previous

    Kara O'Neal

    An author who has too much to say is dangerous.

    The subjects on this blog:


    Monday Memories -- My Childhood

    Wednesday Words -- Books!

    To be a guest on my blog:

    Contact: [email protected]

    Monday Memories: Cast

    Kara -- Me
    Maria -- sister
    Wendy -- sister
    Bill -- brother

    M'Lynn -- mother
    Drummond -- father

    Grace -- mother's redheaded friend
    Liam -- Grace's husband
    Gorgeous (Georgie) -- oldest son and friend
    Phillip -- middle son and friend
    Andrew -- last child and friend

    Jo -- mother's "big idea" friend
    Noah -- Jo's husband who builds things
    Jack -- oldest son and friend
    Roxi -- middle daughter and friend
    Lela -- last child and friend

    Alex -- friend who travels the country and lives in Dallas
    Blossom -- friend who lives in Dallas and sells houses

    Miss Holly -- next door neighbor
    Kirk -- middle son
    Scotty -- youngest son

    Lou -- uncle on my dad's side who likes baseball
    Evaline -- my dad's sister who's crazy funny
    Luke -- oldest son and my cousin
    Han -- younger son and my cousin

    Clark -- my mother's brother who bleeds maroon

    Alexander -- my eldest cousin on my dad's side

    Dawn -- cousin on my dad's side that is the same age as Maria

    Archives

    January 2023
    December 2022
    October 2022
    September 2022
    August 2022
    July 2022
    June 2022
    May 2022
    April 2022
    March 2022
    February 2022
    January 2022
    November 2021
    October 2021
    September 2021
    August 2021
    July 2021
    June 2021
    May 2021
    April 2021
    March 2021
    February 2021
    January 2021
    December 2020
    November 2020
    October 2020
    September 2020
    August 2020
    July 2020
    June 2020
    February 2020
    January 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    September 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    November 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    September 2017
    January 2017
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    April 2016
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014

    RSS Feed

    This blog updates during the week.
Proudly powered by Weebly