Being one of those weird book people who sees characters as friends, I have to spend one day a week talking about my favorites.

We'll start with Kyle Lonnigan in Welcome Home, the first full-length novel in my Pike's Run series.

I wrote a stubborn, passionate, family-oriented guy who sticks to his guns and cares so much about those he loves, he almost loses the woman of his heart. There's a lot of emotion and tension in Welcome Home, created by Kyle's heartache.

He has to learn how to come through the grief of losing his father. And of course, he has no idea what he really needs until Emma shows up.

Two years prior, she was the woman he'd fallen head over boots for, but then she tells a lie that rips him apart.

I enjoyed revealing Kyle's layers and getting him back to the trickster, happy fellow he was before his father's death. I really didn't realize what I was getting into when I wrote Kyle, because his anger was truly formidable.

Thankfully, Emma turned out to be pretty stubborn herself. She refuses to give up on him and confronts his fury with all the love she has for him.

Kyle is my first hero. I wrote and wrote and wrote until I learned who he was. And what I found was a fiercely loyal gentleman who would do anything for those he loves. I'm proud of him, even though there were moments where I wanted to punch him.

Emma really should've punched him, but for some reason I can't explain, she didn't. Maybe because she knew his fury hid a lot of pain?

Probably.

Kyle made my heart go pitter patter, especially when he finally gets down on one knee. I was in tears by then. His longing and need for Emma made the pages in Welcome Home turn, and I wanted so much for him to forgive and let go.

I'm happy to say he's had an appearance or, at the very least, a mention in each book in my series. Kyle and Emma started it all, and I'm pleased with their performance.

Here's an excerpt for you:

Cool air brushed over Kyle as he stood outside and away from the dancing. When Emma had walked in, the barn had suddenly become too confining and he had to get out. He lost count of how many reels he’d missed as he leaned against the outside wall of the barn. All he could think about was her and the way she looked with her lavender dress, soft hair, vibrant eyes, dazzling smile…

She was femininity in all its glory. Kyle closed his eyes and recalled the last time he’d seen her as beautiful as she was tonight. Her dress had been much fancier, much more expensive.

Her hair had been more elaborately styled, and her eyes had been full of desperation…need. A need for him. A need for his love.

That night, all of society had been at her father’s house, drinking, dancing and showing off their money. But it had been just the two of them outside, standing in the moonlight, the scent of roses wafting around them. His hands had been at her waist, while hers were wound around the back of his neck.

He still felt her, even after two years.

There are  places in Texas that look like a scene from a fairy tale. These spots will prove to you that Heaven on Earth is possible.

In the Spring, the heart of Texas gets covered in wild flowers. It's a riot of color. They follow the roads, curl over the hills and hug the fence posts. I can't begin to tell you how beautiful it is, and the pictures I post won't do it justice.

If you ever want to visit Texas, come in early April and make sure you spend time in the Hill Country. You won't be disappointed.

There are a lot more. Sunflowers, daisies, thistles, blue-eyed grass....

But I can't talk about all of them. No matter how much I might want to. Texas Wildflowers have been some of my favorite things since I was five. I wait desperately each Spring for them to appear. People call me and tell me how good the season was.

If you're interested, and want to learn more, you can visit the Texas Wildseed Farm. They do God's work there.

To tide you over, because it's only January, here's a picture...

Is there somewhere, some time, that is like Heaven for you? Fairy tale scenes are everywhere, and I promise if you look, you'll fine one!

I have a star on my hand. It has been drawn with blue marker, only my skin has turned it to sort of a bluish-green.

My teacher put it there.

I know she drew it on my hand because I had a good day and this was her way of communicating that to my mother.

I wasn’t that impressed with the prize, especially when I had no idea what I had done to deserve it.

I suppose I hadn’t yelled at anyone that day. I distinctly remember one instance when I told a group of girls, “You think you’re just so smart because you’re in Ms. Otto’s class!”.

They looked at me like I’d grown two heads. But, what ELSE do you say to girls who flock together and don’t let anyone else into their group?

Mean girls…

Cute hair, cute ribbons, cute clothes, cute dimples…

I did not fit in.

I didn’t really want to, though. I didn’t have any desire to play dolls, or house at recess, which is what they did. I preferred to play with the boys. Dodge ball, kickball, tag, etc.

Much better.

Though the boys never excluded me, I knew I was doing the "wrong" thing. Boys weren't going to invite me to slumber parties, or skating parties, or ask me to sit with them at lunch.

I understood that I didn't really fit in most places. My teacher had issues with me, the girls avoided me, the boys tolerated me...I knew this.

Then, one day, I got an admirer all my own...

In my wranglers and button down shirt, I walked up to the librarian and said in a very proper tone because he was the librarian, “Excuse me, but would you have any books by Rudyard Kipling?”.

After he survived his heart attack at hearing that come out of the mouth of a first grader, I became the twinkle in his eye. He didn't need me to be a boy, or wear ribbons, or listen.

I was fine just as I was.

Killian gasped hard as he woke. He blinked at the blue sky shining bright above him. Branches broke his line of sight, the leaves swaying gently in the wind.

Memories assailed him. Stunned, he sat and could barely fathom what the sapling had just revealed. He'd known Emma as a young man. He'd fallen in love with her long before.

He twisted at the waist, looking for her. When he saw her lying on the ground, her eyes closed, he rolled to his knees and shot to her side. "Emma. Love." He cupped her shoulder and gazed into her face.

She was breathing, still locked in the memories the sapling had given back to them.

"Henry, what--" Killian looked up, but whatever else he wanted to say got stuck in his throat. Henry was seated on the ground, leaning against a tree trunk and writing vigorously. He seemed in a trance.

Killian stood and walked carefully over to the boy's side. He glimpsed the pages of the book, and discovered a scene of Captain Silver and his henchmen dragging Killian back through the portal. Surprised and astounded by how the author's powers worked, Killian watched for a minute before returning to Emma's side.

As he knelt down, she grimaced and turned her head. Was it safe to wake her? Was the sapling still working its magic inside her? He stayed close, wanting to be there when she woke in case she was too disoriented to get her bearings.

After only a few more seconds, her eyes shot open and she gasped much as he had.

Her stunned gaze met his. "Killian," she breathed.

He tipped his mouth at one corner. "Love."

She sat and stared at him in awe. She cupped his face. "Oh, my God." She shook her head in disbelief. "I don't know what to think. Did you see everything I saw?"

"I think so, love." He smoothed back her hair, tucking strands behind her ear. "What was your last image?"

"They took you." Her voice broke on the words. "And I was so mad that I hadn't learned magic in time to save you."

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "I just can't believe it."

"Me, either."

They would have so much to talk about as they marveled at the memories of their time together in this cabin. He was extremely grateful they had had it, but even more thankful that he hadn't been tortured with being separated from her. Which made him wonder how they'd lost these memories.

When Emma shifted, he pulled back.

"Henry," she called.

The lad was still writing, engrossed in the words he busily scribbled on the page.

"He's been like that since I woke," Killian explained. "It's our story."

Emma pushed to her feet, and they both took the few steps needed to get to Henry's side. Killian saw that the picture now showed Zeus. Taken aback, he said, "That's Zeus."

"Who's the woman next to him?" Emma asked, squatting down beside Henry. She checked her son's face, watching him carefully as a mother would.

"Maybe Hera," Killian suggested.

Emma gave no response, but it was only a few moments more then Henry stopped, shook his head and looked up. "Mom," he said, a smile breaking over his face. "That was so cool." He closed the book and shot to his feet. "The magic in the sapling knocked y'all back, and then this buzz started in my hand, and I had to get out my book and start writing."

As he watched the boy jump from foot to foot, Killian's curiosity grew. "Lad, why were the memories taken away from us? Why is Zeus part of this story?"

"Okay," Henry paused in his excited shifting, and flipped open the book. "When Captain Silver's men dragged you through the portal, Zeus was watching, because, you weren't supposed to come to this world. Hades tried to control your fate."

"Why?" Emma asked, confused.

"Because he figured out that someday, y'all would have the ability to destroy the Dark Ones, and he didn't want that. Of course, that's not how it worked out, but y'all almost did it. Hades couldn't see the whole future. Zeus could, but he doesn't play with it, as it's not right." Henry showed them the picture of Zeus standing over some sort of fountain. "He can watch y'all in the water, and when y'all got torn apart, Hera got worried."

Henry looked at Emma. "She knew how long it would be before y'all saw each other again, and she didn't want y'all to have that pain. Mom, you had to stay here. I had to be the one to find you and bring you to Storybrooke. Hades messed with that, hoping y'all would only search for each other and end up never fighting the darkness."

Killian shared a look with Emma, then said, "So we weren't supposed to have met when we were younger."

"No, but, y'all shouldn't regret it or anything. It didn't change your future, because Zeus interfered and removed the memory. That way, y'all didn't miss each other and met when you were supposed to."

As he rubbed the back of his neck, Killian said, "I don't think I could ever regret those few days here. Right now all I want to do is remember them over and over. Those were the sweetest moments of my life."

Emma nodded and sidled up next to him. "They were perfect, and if I had been unable to find Killian..." She shook her head. "That would have been awful."

He kissed her temple. "It happened the way it should have."

Henry grinned. "And now we have a powerful sapling to take home, and I know the magic in it will release Grandpa and Grandma from the sleeping curse." He shut his book, put into the satchel slung over his shoulder and walked to the needed object. "Zeus told Hera that if y'all needed the memories back, they'd come to you. I guess touching the sapling did that." Carefully, he plucked it from the ground then looked up. "Let's go home."

With hope in his heart, the woman he loved at his side and the boy he thought of as son, Killian wrapped an arm around Emma's waist and followed the lad through the forest. Home. He had one. Finally. And he would never let it go.

“Keep your feet apart and keep a good stance. If you can’t move, you can’t attack.”

Emma licked her lips and tightened her grip on the stick she held. “All right.”

Killian gestured with his free hand. “Come at me again.”

Using the lunge he taught her, Emma surged forward, her shoes kicking up gritty sand. Her heart pumped against her chest, and she felt invigorated as their sticks clacked together.

He shouted commands and words of praise at her as she swung her blade. Instinct took over, and she twirled, smacking the base of her weapon against his just as he’d arced his toward her.

A grin spread over his handsome face. “Nicely done, love.”

But he was stronger, and her arms shook as she pressed with all her might.

“Use your legs,” he ordered her.

And she understood what he meant. Balance was just as important, and she pushed from her heels, surging forward and knocking him back. He stumbled and fell on his rear in the wet sand.

As he laughed with delight, she jumped and said, “I did it.”

“You did,” he agreed, panting.

Her breath came short, as well, and she leaned down to offer him a hand up.

He clasped her wrist and stood, but before he got his feet under him, she pulled his head down and kissed him. As her heart flew to the heavens, she dropped her stick and wrapped her arms around his neck.

His own weapon hit the grit beneath their feet, and he circled her waist, gripping her to him tightly.

True love. She couldn’t believe it. She was his true love. Like in a fairy tale.

But there would be no sleeping curses. No villain would triumph over them. She wasn’t a princess in a book, and she wasn’t about to prick her finger on a spindle or eat an apple. She was too smart for that.

As she drank from him, he lifted her off her feet, and she sighed inwardly. He was hers. And she was his. How much better could it get?

She broke away and set her forehead on his, her chest heaving, her pulse racing. “There’s nobody better than you.”

A noise of disbelief came from him, and he nuzzled his nose against her cheek. “I’ll not argue that, love, but I’m fairly certain you deserve more than a lowly deckhand.” He lowered her to the ground.

“Nope. You’re it. Always.” She grinned up at him.

“Well, I’m not going to let you get rid of me, so it doesn’t matter if some other fellow is more deserving.” He brushed a tendril of her hair behind her ear. “Wanna go again?”

“In a minute. Need to catch my breath.”

“All right.” He let go of her and stooped to pick up his stick.

“If I’m from the Enchanted Forest, who do you think I belong to?”

He paused for a moment, then faced her, a questioning look in his eyes.

“I mean,” she continued hastily, “if I have magic, and magic comes from your world, then I’m from there, right?”

As he propped the bottom of his weapon in the sand, he replied, “Probably.”

She cocked her head, excitement thrumming through her. “What kind of people have magic?”

“All kinds.”

That didn’t help her.

“Fairies, witches, royalty, the common folk.” He lifted one hand in uncertainty. “Magic chooses the person, and just because one has it, doesn’t mean one is better than another.”

Concern flashed through her. “I don’t think I’m better than you.”

He grinned. “I know. I didn’t mean it that way.”

Relieved, she slumped her shoulders. “Good.” After a second of silence, she said, “I just keep thinking that if I’m from your land, I should go back there. Maybe…” She swallowed. “Maybe my parents didn’t mean to give me up. Maybe I was sent away because I have magic.”

He rubbed his chin in thought. “Maybe.” His brow furrowed. “What are you getting at?”

She bit her lip and stepped toward him. “If, or when, Liam finds you…do you think we could go back with him? I mean, do you think I could go back?”

Hesitancy moved in his gaze. “Of course, love.”

Thoughts and hopes raced through her mind. “Could I think of my parents as we jump into the portal, and then all three of us would be transported to them?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes.”

Elation whipped through her. She might be able to find her family. She might know what had happened, why she’d been given up. Or sent away.

But his worried expression gave her pause. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

After a slight upturn of his lips, he replied, “Nothing really. It’s just…well…” A sheepish look come over his face. “Your family might not…that is…I might not be found in favor as a suitor for you.”

Taken aback, she could only blink at him. When she recovered, conviction rang in her tone as she promised, “Nothing and no one will keep us apart. If you’re my true love, then we’re destined to have a future, right?”

He ducked his head. “Of course, love.”

Concerned she hadn’t convinced him, she cupped the back of his neck with her hand and looked directly into his eyes. “Hey.”

His gaze connected with hers.

“Nobody tells me what to do, and nobody tells me who to love.”

A flicker of hope gleamed in his blue depths.

“We will always be together, and if anyone thinks you aren’t good enough, well, they’ll feel my sword.” She lifted her chin.

And now a gorgeous smile graced his lips. “I’m glad I’m teaching you how to use it, then.”

She let out a chuckle.

He lowered his forehead to hers. “Emma…my love.”

As she turned her mouth toward his, flashes of light split the sky. She gave a yelp and jumped. Before she could get her bearings and see what had invaded their space, Killian shoved her behind him.

“Captain Silver,” he growled.

Emma gasped and peeked around Killian’s shoulder. A man in a long leather coat and vest glared while a portal spun behind him. Three more men walked through, each wearing clothing similar to Killian’s. They’d found Killian!

“Do you know how many bloody people I had to kill to get beans?” The captain stormed toward Killian. “You are in servitude to me, Killian Jones, and I’ll be damned before I lose money on your foul self.” The vortex closed.

Emma felt Killian tense and his hands clenched into fists. She whipped around and searched for her stick. It was the only thing she had. Spying it in the sand, she raced toward it and scooped it up.

Sounds of fists hitting jaws reached her ears, and she spun around. Killian fought like the very devil, but the other people who’d come through the portal bore down on the dueling sailors.

“No,” Emma shouted, and she shot toward them, blood roaring in her ears. Fear gave her wings, and she swung her weapon high and hard into the face of one of the men. He grunted and went down.

“Emma!” Killian cried. “No!”

She knew he worried about her safety, but she had to help him. She couldn’t lose him.

The remaining scoundrels glared at her and laughed.

She could hear the grunts from Killian and Captain Silver behind her. She held her stick at the ready. “Come on,” she dared, her muscles vibrating with the need to stop them from whatever they planned.

But neither challenged her. Confused, she took one step forward, but before she could attack, an arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her high. She bucked and kicked, doing anything she could to get free. She swung her stick, trying to connect with her assailant, but she couldn’t see him.

More ribald laughter sounded, and Killian cried her name. “Don’t hurt her, Jenson. I’ll kill you.”

Emma flew, and she screamed. She landed in the dirt, her skin scraping against the grit.

“You’re a dead man,” Killian shouted.

Sand had gotten into her eyes, and she heard more punches and snarls.

“That’s enough,” a voice bellowed.

Emma brushed her hand across her face and shoved to her feet. When her vision cleared, she found Killian, being held by two men, his head hanging in defeat. “No,” she rasped and took a step forward.

Captain Silver shot out his arm. “Stay where you are, girl. If you care for him, you’ll not move closer.”

She froze. As she panted, she wracked her brain for how to get Killian away from them. “He belongs here. With me.”

Snickers came from the brutes holding Killian.

“You’re wrong,” Captain Silver declared. “Whatever he’s told you, it’s a lie.”

Emma sneered. “He would never lie.”

“Emma,” Killian gasped and looked at her. Blood streamed from a cut on his face. Helplessness shone from his perfect eyes.

“He’s coming with us.” Captain Silver removed an object from a pocket in his vest. “He has a debt to work off.” The captain tossed the item he held in the air, and a portal appeared.

Fear shot up Emma’s throat. “No,” she shouted and hurried forward.

The men backed away.

“No,” she cried again and threw up her arms. White light blasted from her fingers, knocking one of the deckhands to the muddy bank.

Panic overcome the men, and Emma stared in disbelief at what she’d done. The scoundrel she’d hit scrambled to his feet.

“Love,” Killian breathed, still trapped by the strong holds of his captors. Killian struggled. “You did it.”

Sparks flashed from her hands, and she stared down at her palms, breathing heavily. “Oh my God.”

“Let’s get out of here,” someone shouted.

“Go,” Captain Silver commanded in a forceful tone.

Emma jerked her head up. “Killian,” she cried as she threw her hands at the escaping sailors. Magic surged once more, but it was swallowed up as the portal closed, blasting her with air.

And then there was nothing. No sound. No Killian.

She sank to her knees. “Killian,” she sobbed.

Energy surged inside her, and she lifted her hands before her eyes. She could’ve stopped them. If she’d known how to control it, she could’ve…

Resolve strengthened inside her, and she swiped the tears from her cheeks. “I will find you, Killian. No matter what. I will always find you.”

I'm so excited to finally share this! I've been waiting for December so I could tell y'all about it.


My family has a wonderful Christmas tradition. We call it Christmas Feast.


The first weekend in December we pull out the Christmas decorations -- we have A LOT -- so we can trim the tree and the house.



While the kids and my Prince Charming put everything out, I cook. I make all kinds of appetizers and finger foods. I use all my best and cute party platters, and our table is FULL of food. We eat for days after, which is just another great thing about it.

We listen to Christmas music, and the kids get all excited about each ornament they pull out and hang up. It's wonderful.

Y'all should know that I spend about 5 hours in the kitchen. My feet and back kill me by the time I'm done, but it's soooo worth it. I wouldn't trade it at all. The menu consists of:

1) Deviled eggs -- a riot ensues if I don't make these
2) Pigs in a blanket
3) Cheese tray
4) Cream cheese with jalapeno jelly
5) Jalapeno poppers
6) Pizza rolls
7) Parmesan crusted chicken tenders
8) Stuffed mushrooms
9) Veggies and dip
10) Egg rolls
11) Cookies galore
12) Taco sticks
13) Apples and a fruit dip
14) Pot stickers
15) Queso
16) Salsa

It's a lot. But it's sooooo great.

Once everything is done, we fill our plates and watch Home Alone. And the kids still giggle. They're 19, 17 and 13 now, but it doesn't matter. They love every bit of this day, and we have every intention of continuing it even after they're grown and gone. This year my daughter helped me with cooking, and she did such a great job. It only took three hours. I sure wish I had two ovens, though. That's for the next house, I guess.

Here's a little look into what it's like for us. The kids are younger in this video.

It's traditions like these that make it easy for me to write like I do. The best thing about my books is the family feel in them. I think it's become a trademark for me, because my readers remark on it often.

I'm glad I can evoke homey feelings in my stories. Hopefully it shows the love I have for my family and friends, and gives readers a sense of what life is all about.

What reminds you of family? What do you look forward to -- it doesn't have to be a Christmas tradition. Comment below and I'll send a copy of any book in my series to one lucky person -- winner can choose the book. Please leave your email!

From where she sprang, I do not know, but she had to come from The Glass Is Half-full Chantilly Lace And A Pretty Face Dance Like No One Is Watching It Doesn’t Matter If People Know What Color Your Underwear Is, Texas.

She’s always got her hair let down and a deck of cards ready to go. She can cook as well as her mother and has a smile that melted her father’s heart.




She married her high-school sweetheart…he didn’t stand a chance, and raised two boys who fancied themselves members of the Galactic Alliance.

I’ve seen her do the “Roam Around”, learned several things about the birds and the bees from her jokes, and found out she is the only living person who got my mother to say “fart” spontaneously.

She is unsinkable like Molly, uninhibited like Gypsy Rose, prissy like Mary Poppins, precocious like Shirley, and giving like Melanie Hamilton.

She is the glue that holds my dad’s family together. She is the noise when the silence must be broken. She is the smoother of ruffled feathers, the champion of spades, hearts, and pinochle and second only to Grandma in Scrabble.

She is my aunt. The youngest of four--her older siblings all boys--she cracks a whip that bites with humor and kindness and I have craved her company all of my life.

Laughter is the best medicine. Anyone who says differently needs to know my aunt. No one leaves her without feeling fine and glad to be alive.

So, I shall call her Evaline, an English name meaning “life”, for a woman who is an inspiration to all who spend their lives too much in their own head.

Thank you, God, for creating her. You not only broke the mold when you did, but whatever cooks the mold probably broke, too!

Hug, hug, kiss, kiss, Aunt Evaline!

While we’re on the subject of Lou, I should introduce the rest of his family.


Lou and my dad have been friends since the first grade. He married my dad’s sister and had two sons…some of my most favorite people.


I loved, loved, loved my cousins! They were my heroes!





The oldest was sweet and calm, protective and understanding. He reminds me of Luke Skywalker, all charm and kindness with the ability to take on the bad guy.

The youngest was outrageous and energetic, bold and sarcastic. He reminds me of Han Solo, willing to be a hero as long as he can break the rules while he’s saving you.

Luke and Han were my role models at the very early age of 6. I wanted nothing more than to do everything they did. (I taught them patience, I think.)

Spending time with Luke and Han was a treat and something I frequently begged for. (I don’t think they were always very flattered.)

But, they loved me and we are still pretty close even today. Luke and Han…those are really great names for them. (Tee hee!)

Oh, yeah, and they have a mom. Well, of course they have a mom! She is my dad’s sister and my aunt.

And…

There is no way I can write about her today. She needs a whole entry all to her pretty, crazy self! Stay tuned!

I always knew when we were going to Grandma and Grandpa’s because there were all these hills on the freeway. You know, those hills that make room for the roads underneath them…

However, even though there were a bunch of those hills, we weren’t going to Grandpa’s. Instead, my dad was taking me and Maria somewhere else entirely.



When we got there, I was speechless. For ten seconds.

“OH, MY GOSH!”, I yell. “THAT’S ONE BIG, ROUND BUILDING!”

Don’t know what it is? I’ll give you a hint…they called it the eighth wonder of the world.

Still don’t know? Well, it’s the Astrodome.

My dad and my uncle were taking me and Maria and my cousins to a baseball game. An Astros game.

They were now, officially, the coolest people ever!

I got to eat peanuts, and cotton candy, and see people who were on TV. Not to mention participate in all the cheers going on in that noisy place. There was one I remember yelling at the top of my lungs.


A trumpet would sound and then everyone yelled, “CHARGE!”. I had no idea how ball players were supposed to charge, but I yelled it. I’m pretty sure the Boys of Summer could hear me, too.

My uncle, we’ll call him Lou on account of the great Mr. Lou Gehrig, had no idea what he started, but I soon began a love affair with baseball and the Astros. I will forever remember that day, sitting in the stands watching my team, yes, MY TEAM, win. And we stayed for the whole game.




Throughout the years, Lou took me to other sporting events, but I will always remember that first one as the best one. Not only was it a fantastic day, but he thought of me. He didn’t take me to a fancy ballet, or some trussed up tea party.

He knew me way better than that…