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

Wednesday Words: Operation Code Name: Desert Love by Constance Bretes

4/28/2021

6 Comments

 
I'm pleased to welcome Constance Bretes and her newest release, OPERATION CODE NAME: DESERT LOVE! I'm excited to hear more about this book, so let's dive in....
Picture
OPERATION CODE NAME: DESERT LOVE

​Her best hope for survival is the one man she never wants to see again.
 
Clarissa Maasen is a humanitarian relief worker who’s stationed in Afghanistan. When she and two of her coworkers are kidnapped by insurgents and held hostage, she can only hope that her father, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, will send his best men to rescue them—more specifically, Len Roberts of the Delta Force.
 
The last time Len saw Clarissa, it did not end on good terms. But he will risk his life to rescue this woman who is never far from his thoughts.
 
Can he rescue her in time? And will they be able to control the passion erupting between them?

Wow! OPERATION CODE NAME: DESERT LOVE sound like it's filled with suspense and tension. I admire authors who can write stories about missions. I wouldn't even know where to start! Can you tell us facts about the book? Some little tidbit about why you wrote it?

The town and state the book was written from was Suffolk, Virginia. The home I picked out was actually a home in Rochester, Michigan, called Meadowbrook Hall. I wanted to do something that had Meadowbrook Hall in it, and in this case, it became Southerllyn Estates. Because it was a military romance, I put it in Virginia. The story was loosely based on Helen Johnston, a British humanitarian worker who was taken hostage and then rescued by the SAS. My heroine was actually an American humanitarian worker taken hostage and rescued by American forces.
Clarissa must be a very tough heroine! I'll enjoy reading her story. Can you share an excerpt?

As they approached the target, Len pushed all feelings and emotions to the back of his mind. He went into his stealth mode. People became dummies in target practice. He and the team crept across the open, sandy ground unnoticed. The men didn’t make a sound, but he could feel the adrenaline.

The target of their mission would know nothing. Len never used the two-way to communicate, he used hand signals. Within minutes, everyone took their places and was ready to move in on the target.

This early in the morning the insurgents would be asleep except for a few standing guard. Len’s men closed in on the caves from a distance, hiding behind a large boulder while waiting for the snipers to let him know they were in place to take out targets before his team moved forward.

Once the snipers were in place, Len gave the hand signal to the snipers to fire. He had exactly five minutes to get the hostages out before the A-10 bomber came in and blew up the caves. There were approximately fifteen insurgents outside the caves guarding the entrances. Len and his team took them out in fast succession before they could react.

The way the men acted and their slow responses to the team’s presence told Len that they were not military, and they were inexperienced in warfare. Yelling in Pashto, rebels ran to the front of the caves, firing back with their AK-47 Russian guns. Despite the sand and smoke rising, Len and his team picked off each insurgent who came out of the cave shooting.

When no more men exited the caves, Len gave his team a ‘room by room’ hand signal. He entered the cave, his back against the wall, his arms out in front of him, pointing his gun. He spotted the shadows of two men coming toward him, but they hid themselves behind the wall. One man stepped out to fire. Len shot him in the head. Sergeant Hathaway, who followed behind Len, fired a shot at the second man as he stepped into the path to shoot. Every shot fired from silencers sent a popping noise echoing through the caves.

Sounds so real, Constance! You've painted an amazing scene. Is the book dedicated to anyone?

It's dedicated to all the men and women who serve in our arm forces.

And do you have a favorite part?

Yes! It's when the heroine and hero were playing kickball with the local children in the small town in Afghanistan and the hero was outsmarting the heroine and the kids thought it was funny.

Congratulations on writing a wonderful and rich story! I can't wait to read OPERATION CODE NAME: DESERT LOVE!

BUY OPERATION CODE NAME: DESERT LOVE

Picture
CONSTANCE BRETES

Constance started writing contemporary romance and romantic suspense fifteen years ago. She was born and raised in Michigan. After working for the State of Michigan for 38 years, she retired. She and her husband moved to Montana and lived in the mountainside of a small town. There, locked in her office overlooking the mountains, was where this story, Operation Code Name: Desert Love, was written. After living in Montana for three years, they moved to Alabama with her cat, Sunny, who owns both her and her husband. Her hobbies include basket weaving, reading mafia romance books, diamond painting, and fiddling at the piano. 

Website: www.constancebretes.com
Email: cbretes@constancebretes.com

6 Comments

Monday Memories: Spring Fever

4/26/2021

1 Comment

 
Picture
Spring time in my town brings lots more than wishing flowers. Let's see....lightning bugs, love bugs, cool evenings that are perfect for playing kickball, strawberries, ice cream, and cowboys.

My town has a rodeo. This is a competition where men do a bunch of different activities with livestock. Such as ropin' calves, wrestlin' steers, and ridin' bulls.

It was held near the bus barn. No, we don't store our school buses in an actual barn. That's just what we call the big parking lot where all the buses go to sleep at night.

At this point in my life I don't much care for cowboys. I care for the bright lights of the carnival.

This is not a competition, but an obstacle course of sorts. The game was to ride as many rides as possible before your parents decide they are tired and need to go home.

I start with the carousel, then move on to the sack slides. There was the train, and the mini-roller coaster. And a whirly gig kind of thing that turns you upside down. The only break I took was to sit down and watch the pig races.

I save the ferris wheel for last -- always.

Usually, I win this game because let me tell you -- I am fast.

The only feat I never succeeded in was getting cotton candy. My parents were dead set against me enjoying the spun sugar treat. Guess I didn't need any more fuel than my normal rarin' to go attitude.

I consoled myself with more than one ride on the ferris wheel.

1 Comment

Monday Memories: "Please Come Over And Stop My Husband"

4/19/2021

0 Comments

 
Picture
"Drummond?" my mother calls.

"Yo!" he answers back.

"The dishwasher is broken. I'm going to call the repairman."

My father comes shooting into the kitchen. "Don't do that. I'll fix it right now."

I look up from my coloring books spread over the kitchen table and watch the exchange.

​
My mother looks a little pale. My lips twitch as I try to hold in a giggle.

"Well, do you think you have time?" she asks. "I thought you were supposed to go meet Noah for golf."

"Probably gonna rain," he explains.

As he walks into the garage to get his tools, her shoulders slump, and she sighs. I understand that sigh. God bless the man, he always has to fix things on his own. If it doesn't go smoothly, cuss words will fly out of his mouth quicker than ice melts in July.

Mama comes and falls into a chair at the table, probably mentally preparing herself for what's about to happen. She looks at us girls as we all carefully color pictures of Winnie the Pooh or Minnie Mouse.

Dad comes back in and sets his tool box down. The banging commences. We're only a few minutes into the fixing when the cussing begins. I feel bad for my dad, but sometimes, his irritation is really quite funny. Just picture Yosemite Sam, and you'll understand.

0 Comments

Wednesday Words: The Comtesse of Midnight by Alina K. Field

4/14/2021

5 Comments

 
Today we welcome one of my FAVORITE authors, Alina K. Field, and her contribution to STORM AND SHELTER, a collection of eight Regency romances. I can't wait to read all of these, let me tell you! First, let's hear about this wonderful anthology....
Picture
STORM AND SHELTER

When a storm blows off the North Sea and slams into the village of Fenwick on Sea, the villagers prepare for the inevitable: shipwreck, flood, land slips, and stranded travelers. The Queen’s Barque Inn quickly fills with the injured, the devious, and the lonely—lords, ladies, and simple folk; spies, pirates, and smugglers all trapped together. Intrigue crackles through the village, and passion lights up the hotel.

One storm, eight authors, eight heartwarming novellas.

This sounds like the perfect set-up for complex characters, lots of good tension and sweet romance! How did you end up being a part of this collection?

The year 2020 was awful in many ways, but there were some bright spots. For me, one of those was being invited by the Bluestocking Belles, a group of historical romance authors, to be one of the guest authors in their 2021 story collection. It was a unique experience, and a great deal of fun, interweaving our stories and characters into the collection's setting. 
All of the stories take place in the fictional Suffolk town of Fenwick on Sea during a "storm of the century". It is the first week of April 1815, and Napoleon Bonaparte has just escaped from Elba.
​

When this opportunity arose, I was in the middle of writing Fated Hearts, my Regency-set retelling of the Macbeth story. Since Fated Hearts was set in London in March 1815, in the middle of the Corn Riots, and in the week that ended with the arrival of news of Bonaparte's escape, the Storm & Shelter project gave me the perfect opportunity for a secondary character's romance. The result is my novella, The Comtesse of Midnight, about Malcolm Comyn, the Earl of Menteith, and his search for the lady who holds the secret of his birth.

Ooooohhh! The secret of his birth! Sounds fantastically mysterious. Do you have a favorite part?
 
One of my favorite parts of the story is the hero and heroine’s first meeting. In the midst of a terrible storm, she struggles to rescue two kegs of smuggles spirits from a beached sloop. Malcolm comes to the smuggler’s aid, and very quickly recognizes that the free-trader in trousers is not a young man, but a very feminine woman. 
​
Picture
THE COMTESSE OF MIDNIGHT

A Scottish Earl on a quest for the elusive Comtesse de Fontenay rescues a French lady smuggler from the surf during a devastating storm, and takes shelter with her. As the stormy night drags on, he suspects his companion knows the woman he’s seeking, the one who holds the secret to his identity.

Marielle Plessiers may dress like a boy and go out with the local free traders, but she’s really the Comtesse de Fontenay. She trades in spirits, not secrets, but the information she holds will change Malcolm Comyn’s life forever.


Can you share an excerpt?

“Halloo,” Malcolm called.

The man scrambled to his feet. Short and slight, his oilcloth coat tented over him. He was otherwise dripping wet, a knit cap clinging down to his eyebrows. He dove under the sail again and came back with another cask.

Either he hadn’t heard or he was ignoring the greeting. “Do you need help?” Malcolm called.

The man spun around, a scowl on his young face, and shook his head.

Another wave swamped him, the sea tugging at his boots and legs. He fell back, still clutching his cargo.

Malcolm dismounted and waded into the surf. He reached a hand and pulled the delicate lad up, swept the cask out of his loosening grip, and fought his way back up the beach with the lad in tow.

Eyes flashed up at him. Gray, or green, or blue—the color was uncertain, but the lashes framing them were long, the lips full, the face a smooth heart shape filled with annoyance.

Feminine annoyance.

He swept a gaze over the coats and trousers, confirming the curves below. Almost confirming.

And if confirmed, it would be the first bit of intrigue unrelated to his earldom that he’d had in months.

He whisked the smuggler up under his free arm, swallowing a chuckle and ignoring the unmistakably female howl of protest.
* * * *
Merde. With fingers numb from fighting the storm, holding onto the casks was proving nigh impossible. And the man oughtn’t to be here.

The hand reaching out was large, the arm it was attached to a strong one, and the stranger was a full head taller. He wasn’t a revenue agent though, or not a known one. They’d all be snug in their beds in a storm like this. No, the man was not with the government, yet his scrutiny was a close one.

“Nooo.” The scold came unbidden because he’d plucked a body tight up against him, juggling the cask in his other arm.

The devil he was, and too damned presumptuous. “Put me down. You oughtn’t to be here. Go see to your horse. The animal will have the reins free in moments.”

“Ungrateful brat.” Still cradling the cask, he slogged back to the horse, soothing the creature with a gentle touch that quite impressed. Except, that he still held the cask that wasn’t his.

“You. That’s mine.”

“Aye, and I’m carryin’ it for ye. Come.” He beckoned. “Get yourself out of the surf.”

That was probably wise. Whether the sloop would be there in the morning was anyone’s guess. A pity that. Nothing about this run had been easy—the storm had changed everything. They were lucky to be alive.

“That cask is mine, and I’ll have it now.”

He picked up the other one. “I’ll carry the both. Ye’ll lead the horse.”

The beast rolled his eyes and snorted with only mild annoyance. This was a fine creature to be only a bit discomposed by his day’s work and the weather.

“Fine, then. I will lead him.”

When the man turned with the casks and stomped off toward the embankment a sharp whistle checked him.

“Not that way. We will follow the beach. It will be faster and less treacherous than taking that hillside.”

“Aye. Unless a wee wave comes and sweeps us away. And where would it be that we’re going?”

​And there it was, a guess before, but now, certainement: a Scots accent, one that sent a slither of fear up the spine. And why would another finely dressed Scotsman be visiting these parts? 

BUY STORM AND SHELTER

Picture
ALINA K. FIELD

Award winning and USA Today bestselling author Alina K. Field earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English and German literature, but prefers the much happier world of romance fiction. Though her roots are in the Midwestern U.S., after six very, very, very cold years in Chicago, she moved to Southern California, where she shares a midcentury home with her husband and a spunky, blond rescued terrier. She is the author of several Regency romances, including the 2014 Book Buyer’s Best winner, Rosalyn’s Ring. Though hard at work on her next series of romantic adventures, she loves to hear from readers!

​
 
Website: https://alinakfield.com/ 
 
Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/Alina-K.-Field/e/B00DZHWOKY
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/alinakfield 
MeWe: https://mewe.com/i/alinakfield
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AlinaKField
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/alina-k-field
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/alinak.field/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7173518.Alina_K_Field
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/alinakf/
Newsletter signup: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/z6q6e3


5 Comments

Monday Memories: Granter Of Wishes

4/12/2021

0 Comments

 
Picture


It takes some time for Dandelions to turn into Wishing Flowers. I know. Because I checked everyday.



When they hadn't changed, I wasn't sad. Seeing the yellow dotting the field made me just as happy. You might be surprised to know that I didn't pick them. I let them live.




My extreme patience surprised even me. It was, of course, further proof to my mother and everyone else that I could control my impulses. Therefore, talking during instruction and standing still in line were possible for me.

Geez...I was dumb to show adults that side of myself. But...the flowers lived longer, swaying in the breeze, and pushing their happiness up through the ground.

Then the day came when there were Wishing Flowers as far as the eye could see. As Maria tells it, I declared, "These flowers go all the way to Hazard County!" (Not Harris. Hazard. Fans of the General should know to which county I refer.)

I ran into the lot, ready to make as many wishes as possible. I did pick a couple. I closed my eyes and made my wish, raising my head to the Heavens. After I'd used the most beautiful words, I opened my eyes and blew at the white, fluffy seeds. Watching the wind catch them, I smiled in glee to see my wish carried away. Hopefully to the place where wishes were granted.

Eventually, though, I got a better idea. I certainly couldn't pick every flower. There were hundreds of flowers waiting to be wished on.

Instead, I closed my eyes and made all my wishes at once. Then, with lightning speed, I dashed through the flowers, my legs and arms kicking up the soft seeds, sending them flying and spinning into the air. Thousands of wishes swirled around me as I ran through the lot.

I stopped and looked around, my smile splitting my face. I lifted my arms and gloried in the sight of those white, fluffy seeds flying. All my wishes, shooting through the Heavens....

And the best part was I knew those seeds would hit the ground and grow new flowers. I was sending Wishing Flowers to others. It was a good feeling.

0 Comments

Release Day: Destiny's Secrets

4/7/2021

0 Comments

 
​I’m so excited to introduce you to Andrew and Ben, mischief-making twins, who are private investigators and catch the case of their life. They must reunite sisters who were kidnapped and torn apart at ages 3 and 2.
 
I have to tell you that my fingers flew over the buttons of my laptop on this one. There was so much to write, so many characters to flesh out. And I absolutely adore that steadier, calmer, and quieter Andrew gets trail-blazing, pants-wearing, veterinarian, Jo Tatum as his lady love, while fun-loving, never serious, mischievous Ben ends up with Charlotte Ryan, a math wizard who has more courage in her pinky than you can shake a stick at.
 
These sisters don’t know each other, and Andrew and Ben must bring them together. It’s a story filled with joy, sorrow and bravery. I loved writing every word of it.
Picture
Pike’s Run, Texas, 1882
Andrew and Ben Lonnigan, brothers and private investigators, have accepted an important case—to reunite the long-lost DuBois daughters with their rightful inheritance. Abducted from their childhood home in New Orleans when they were three and two-years-old, Jo and Charlotte were adopted by separate families.

Andrew heads north to find Josephine Tatum—a pants-wearing, spitfire veterinarian who challenges his mind and captures his heart. Ben travels south to find Charlotte Ryan—the financial mind behind her father’s ranch, with a sweet disposition and, unfortunately, a fiancé.

​As the sisters journey toward destiny, Charlotte must guard her heart against Ben, a man too daring to ever return her love. And Andrew must hide his feelings from Jo, a woman determined to carve her own path. While the foursome battle feelings, they must also war with a villain from the sisters’ past, one with the will and the means to destroy everything the DuBois daughters hold dear.

BUY DESTINY'S SECRETS

“You aren’t gonna talk just because I won’t sleep in the tent with you?” Andrew asked.

Jo took a deep breath and glared at him, trying to rein in her temper.

“That’s more of a punishment for you than me,” he went on. “I’m not much for conversation. My brother is better at it. I prefer silence, but you sure seem ready to explode with things to say.”

He looked at her with such ease that her good sense left her. “I think it’s rude of you to tell me outright that you find me ugly.”

“When did I say that?” he replied.

“When you told me you weren’t going to sleep in the tent with me.”

He made a face. “No, I don’t think I said that.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. You implied it.”

“No, you inferred it. I implied something altogether different.”

She sat ramrod straight. “What do you mean? What else could you have meant?”

He shrugged. “Maybe I can’t share that cramped space with you because I find you too damned attractive.”

She reared back.

“Maybe I’m trying to protect you from my inability to leave you be and not touch you.” He watched her carefully, his gaze direct and intent.

Her breath came more quickly. “Do you mean to tell me…that you…you find me desirable?”

“I do.”

She almost declared the ridiculousness of the statement. But it wasn’t. Not at all. It shouldn’t be. What was absurd was his honesty. And even more unbelievable…she tried the control of someone as disciplined as he.

Pleasure burst through her. She couldn’t help but grin at him.

He cursed.

The heat in his gaze made her pulse race, and she stood.

He shot to his feet.

And now she picked up on his nervousness. It was subtle, but she could tell he considered running away. He’d
given her a powerful piece of information, and he didn’t even know if she found him attractive.

She walked the ten paces necessary to get to him.

He didn’t back away, but she could sense he steeled himself against whatever she planned.

“You can sleep in the tent with me. I’d like that very much.” She heard the husky note in her voice.

His brown eyes went warm, and her body melted. She refrained from leaning into him.

“We probably ought not to,” he ground out.

“Why?” she murmured, stepping even closer. Her breasts almost pressed against his chest. “I won’t tell anyone.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Have you done this before?”

“What?”

“Seduced a man.”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

​“Yes,” he clipped.

BUY DESTINY'S SECRETS

Picture
0 Comments

Monday Memories: Wildflower

4/5/2021

0 Comments

 
Picture
I stretch. I yawn. I scratch my head and then jump out of bed. It's Saturday.

I get dressed and brush my teeth as fast as I can. I do NOT brush my hair. Who has time for that?

After I scarf down my cereal, I rush outside, my heart pounding in anticipation.

I race down the front walk as fast as Speedy Gonzalez, but come to a grinding halt at the end of my driveway. I stare straight ahead of me, my eyes wide, my mouth wreathed in a cheek-breaking smile. Even though I knew it would be there, I'm still amazed.

A field of yellow flowers waves in the morning wind before me. The lot across from my house has turned into Heaven as Spring has sprung.

They are Dandelions. Otherwise known as Wishing Flowers. Isn't that fabulous? I live right across from a field of Wishing Flowers. God must REALLY love me.

I sit down at the end of my driveway and take in their beauty. And my good fortune.

I sit for more than hour, soaking up as much of their happiness as I can.

But...I am also waiting...

0 Comments

    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: kara@karaoneal.com

    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