New Release: BLOOD OF ANGELS!

VERY happy to announce the release of my latest book! Blood of Angels, the second in the Blood Hunters vampire romance series, is now available from Amazon.

As you may know, the Blood Hunters series follows on from the Awakened by Blood trilogy, although it can be read on its own. And one thing I have to mention in connection with both series, is the cover art. So before I post the blurb and excerpt from Blood of Angels, here's a quick glimpse of ALL the covers - just because they're so beautiful :).

     

NAL did the Awakened by Blood covers, Kimberly Killion designed the Blood Hunters ones...

And so to Blood of Angels!

BLOOD OF ANGELS: Blood Hunters, Book 2

By MARIE TREANOR

Ebook $2.99 from Amazon. 

Obsession... a wounded hunter, a damaged vampire

Six months ago, vampire hunter and inventive genius Istvan nearly died in the seminal battle that would change the relationship between humans and vampires forever.

A year before that, he first encountered sexy vampiress, Angyalka, owner of the Angel Club, favored haunt of the undead. Istvan won that round, but when he recklessly seeks her out again in search of the secret of angels, he's alone and so exhausted he can barely stand, let alone fight vampires. Plus Angyalka's out for revenge, and very happy to use his powerful sexual attraction to her…

But Angyalka has her own secret weaknesses amd terrifying strengths even she doesn't understand. Their battle becomes one of wits and sex, but when someone bombs the club, they fight together to contain all the threats closing in on the Angel, from humans and vampires, including the sadistic killer who could just be dangerous enough to finally topple undead overlord Saloman.

As Istvan struggles to harness the mysterious power of angels, Angyalka needs a deeper strength to send away the fascinating hunter who delivers on all her deepest sensual desires and yet can't come to terms with her vampire nature.

*

István caught the vampiress Angyalka by luck. If she’d noticed him, he’d never have been able to jump her in time, slam her back hard against his body, and shove the discreetly palmed wooden stake over her heart.

Now, if she made any move to escape, she’d impale herself on the lethally sharpened stick and disintegrate. It was a classic move, perfectly executed. But it gave him no satisfaction since their quarry, the Ancient vampire Saloman, had just soared through the skylight in the glass-domed ceiling of the vampires’ nightclub, taking Elizabeth, the hunters’ bait, with him.

Fear, anger, and guilt would all have to wait. István’s immediate goal was to prevent the fiasco turning into a bloodbath. His team leader, Konrad, openly brandished a wooden stake, an understandable act of aggression which had brought Angyalka flying over the bar in the first place. Now, the backward surge of humans and the forward surge of vampires halted abruptly as everyone stared up to the skylight through which Saloman and Elizabeth had vanished.

There was even an instant when, from pure surprise, the vampiress held herself motionless as she took in her own position, clamped between István’s legs, pinioned by his arms. She couldn’t go forward onto the stake, so she strained back into him.

He followed with the stake, piercing her skin. He felt the wetness of blood under his palm, between her firm, soft breasts.

She was strong. But she wasn’t stupid. She stilled once more and then unhurriedly tilted her face up to look at him.

Her beauty crashed into him, a blow of raw, powerful lust. Short, stylish black hair framed piquant, almost elfin features that seemed oddly familiar. Fine, straight black brows sloped upwards like a devil’s over mocking, mysterious blue eyes so dark they looked navy. She had delicate, hollowed cheekbones, a short, straight nose, and a full, sensual mouth that just cried out to a man to crush it under his—if he was brave enough.

Big, jet earrings dangled from her pale shell-like ears. One caught against the creamy whiteness of her cheek as she twisted to gaze up at him. She wore a short little black silk dress with full-length, black leather boots. Long, slender legs, slim, elegant body, tiny waist, shapely breasts, and an alabaster, swanlike neck.

She looked like the angel carving over the club’s front door.

Her thick lashes drooped and rose again. The other vampires, interestingly, didn’t move. Perhaps they understood Angyalka’s danger. Perhaps she told them telepathically to be still. Her strange, dark blue eyes held his while, deceptively casual, she recited the club rules: “No fighting, no biting.”

Even through the relentless beat of the surrounding music, her voice wrapped around his loins like velvet, soft, dark, and seductive as sin. And it carried to the other vampires, who made no further move toward the hunters. Konrad and Mihaela, realizing they wouldn’t have to fight their way out after all, began to run for the exit in pursuit of Elizabeth and Saloman.

Deliberately, Angyalka pushed her firm bottom back into István’s hips. “What about you, hunter? Are you leaving too?” She smiled, rocking subtly against the erection he couldn’t hide. “Or are you staying to dance?”

The terrifying thing was, even with Elizabeth at the mercy of the monster they’d come to kill, he was tempted. And seeing it, she began to sway to the music, playing havoc with the lust already raging through his body.

He was far too old a hand to fall for this trick.

He stepped back. But like lightening, as soon as her hand could move, it flew up to cover his on the stake between her breasts. Electricity zinged through his fingers. He knew an urge to drop the stake and just palm her breast instead. As if she knew it, her siren smile broadened. Without warning, she spun to face him, revealing her fangs and all the very real danger that lurked below the pretended seduction of her eyes.

He’d held her immobile in front of her people. He’d humiliated her in her own bar, and she wouldn’t forget it. But he’d no time to barter words with a vampire, not even this one. He had to find and save the woman he loved, who would never ever love him.

“No dance, then,” she hissed. “Next time, it will be different.”


And of course, it is :). Thanks for reading! Hope you;re inspired to dash off and download it :).

Marie

The Next Big Thing: My BLOOD OF ANGELS

So, Happy Christmas, everyone! Hope you had a wonderful day - as I did! - and are still enjoying the Festive Season!

Today, I’m participating in The Next Big Thing blog hop, which sees writers answering questions about their works in progress, and tagging other writers to follow on. Last week, I was tagged by the wonderful, multi-talented and intriguingly named K.A. M’Lady, whom you can catch up with here:

http://kamladyotherworld.blogspot.com.

And you can read all about her Next Big Thing here. Many thanks to K for her tag!

Now, the next part of my job is to tag the next authors and their blogs – which was doubly difficult because a) I admire so many and b) everyone’s so busy over Christmas and New Year! However, I'm happy to say I have manage to pin down one of my favourites, my old friend Kate Rothwell/Summer Devon who writes beautiful, unusual and charming historicals (Kate) as well as highly imaginative, erotic paranormals (Summer). Summer's next book is an m/m contemporary called Taming the Bander, published in February by Samhain.

You can track her down here: 

http://katerothwell.com, 

here: http://summerdevon.com

and here: http://katerothwell.blogspot.com - where you can check out her Next Big Thing post next Wednesday, 2nd January 2012.

And so back to my next big thing, Blood of Angels... Here are my interview answers:

What is the working title of your book?

I’ve just been proofing the final files for BLOOD OF ANGELS.

Where did the idea come from for the book?

BLOOD OF ANGELS is the natural progression of a story that began with BLOOD ON SILK, the first of my Awakened by Blood trilogy. I’m now writing a spin off series called Blood Hunters, of which BLOOD OF ANGELS is the second book. It grew largely out of the previous stories and characters which got under my skin. Although I have to confess that Angyalka, my agoraphobic vampire heroine, actually grew out of my own realization that with writing so much I was beginning to avoid going out of the house! So I took Angyalka’s issues a stage or too further J.

What genre does your book fall under?

Paramormal/vampire romance – on the steamy side!

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

I always find this a really hard question to answer! Very seldom do I see my characters as like any actor I know. So I suppose I have to pick actors that change dramtically with each role. Johnny Depp in understated mode could play Istvan, my scientific yet kick-ass hero. Not sure about Angyalka – although Hungarian, she has a style I associate with France J, but I can’t think of a specific actress!

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

Obsession... a wounded hunter, a damaged vampire

Where do you plan to submit your book, or will you self published it?

I’ll be self-publishing it - I’m self-publishing all the Blood Hunters series

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

I can’t remember! A first draft of a full length novel can take anything from three weeks (my fastest ever!) to three months. I think this one was probably seven or eight weeks.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

Goodness, there are so many vampire romances out there that I wouldn’t know where to start! Plus, I suppose we all like to think our own story is unique J. The best comparison is probably with my other stories, especially BLOOD GUILT, the first book in this series, and with the prequel Awakened by Blood trilogy, BLOOD ON SILK, BLOOD SIN and BLOOD ETERNAL.

Who or What inspired you to write this book?

Hmm – a combination of things and people! As I say, this book is a natural progression from a story that keeps moving forward in my head. As such, I have to acknowledge my agent, Robert Gottlieb, on whose advice I first wrote BLOOD ON SILK from a long-standing germ of an idea. And my husband, who's actually the inspiration for at least part of all my heroes, including the inventive and off-the-wall Istvan of BLOOD OF ANGELS J.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

 Vampires - both scary and sexy! Need I say more? :) Well, maybe I should! 

BLOOD OF ANGELS is another stage in the saga readers might have read or at least heard of before, and my world seems to grow with every story. It features wounded and yet strong characters whom readers may have met in the past. Plus, there's a hot enemies to lovers tale - always irresistible to me! And meeting old friends such as Saloman, Elizabeth, Maximilian and Mihaela. And of course new readers to this world have a new vampire series to catch up on and follow :) 

Oh and it should be out in January 2013!

Marie

Party Winners

Just taking a moment amidst the Christmas madness around here to thank everyone who came to the party, readers and authors, commenters and lurkers! Obviously a special thank you to all our generous guest authors who partied with us. It was a wonderful party and I enjoyed every moment :).

And a quick word about the contests. Winners will be announced by each author in the Comments section of their post, so don't forget to check back to see if it's you :). It's up to individual authors when they choose to close their contests and pick their winners.

However, I can announce that the Changeling Press winner is: bn100candg. So, many congratulations to her! She's won a series of Changeling Christmas short stories, and she's chosen the White Hot Christmas set.

And finally, I'd like to wish everyone a very merry Christmas, (or indeed which ever other holiday you celebrate this season!), and I look forward to seeing you again in the New Year!

Marie x

Christmas of the Damned by Marie Treanor

My first Christmas story for Changeling Press was about miracles, though not really religious ones :). Like my new story, Damned Santa, Christmas of the Damned is set in the ruined, post-nuclear apocalypse city which began with Loving the Wolf.

Sol, my unlikely hero, performs miracles every day simply by carrying out his duties as bouncer at the City of the Damned's most popular nightclub. No one even guesses what he does, until one Christmas Eve, he rescues a wounded wolf who's more damaged than anyone else can see...







Christmas Cookies: CHRISTMAS OF THE DAMNED
By MARIE TREANOR
Short story available now at Changeling Press 


No one remembers why, but every year on the same cold December night, the survivors of the ruined City of the Damned gather to celebrate a miracle that never happens...

When a wounded wolf appears outside the city’s most popular nightclub, only Sol, the tough doorman, recognizes that the wolf is more than she seems.  But then, so is Sol.  A man of few words who hides his gift and his generosity, only he can unlock the wolf's lost humanity.

And as it turns out, the meeting of these two remarkable creatures is just one of the miracles of this Christmas night.

*

     The fur of her head was silky soft. She stiffened under his touch but didn’t move away. He began to caress her, stroking her ears and neck, feeling the matted fur and dried blood. She didn’t wince when he touched her wounds. He closed his eyes and let it crash over him, the pain of her broken rib and bruised leg, the knife cuts in her neck and back. He could bear that easily. What overwhelmed him was her internal agony, the memories of violations and terror and grief; the impossibly conflicting fears of human compassion and animal violence locked inside her.

     Deeper and deeper he fell into her pain until he couldn’t quite muffle a groan of anguish, but still he held on, feeling now the wild confusion of unsatisfied lusts within her.

     The wolf had never mated. She had half-killed a male wolf who had approached her too forcefully in her last season. A loner like him, but seeking, and fearing solitude at the same time.

     Sol’s head fell forward. He held on grimly, taking it all, until gradually, he felt her wonder, and slowly, carefully, he could begin to disperse the pain, deal with it. Eyes still closed, he held his hands over her wounded neck and back, reached down between her forelegs, seeking and finding the broken rib.

     When he opened his eyes, the wolf still stared at him, wonder and gratitude and new, desperate fear fighting for dominance in her amber eyes.

     “Come back,” he whispered. “It’s time.” And pressed his lips to her soft, furry head.

     A whimper escaped her. There was more pain, unbelievable, unbearable, but he took that too, head thrown back against the sofa for support while the wolf’s body twisted and changed, limbs lengthening, bones altering shape and position. The fur began to vanish from her shoulders and back, her face shortened and re-formed, hairless and white as her long, slender limbs.

     A lovely woman knelt between his knees, trembling.



Commenters on all Changeling Press posts - including this one! - will be entered to win a past Changeling Christmas series! 

Who the Punk Do You Think You Are? By Megan Slayer

Silly title for a silly post, right? You’re right. I like to write characters that are human and by that I mean they have nuances that make them different and can get them in to trouble. Pixie is one of those characters.

What’s so bad about Pix? Well, she’s in charge of the teddy bear line. You know, make the bears, fluff them, put a nice bow on them and see that they go on their way onto the child on the nice list. Sounds like a nice, cushy job, right?

Pixie puts her own spin on those bears. Some are tie-dyed. Some are black with a neon green bow and pink feet. Some have tattoos. Some have piercings. Yep, they are punk bears. Santa’s wondered about Pixie for years. He’s reprimanded her for not following protocol. But then he’s completely shocked when those bears, the bears he thinks won’t end up under any Christmas tree, are requested. Yep, they are.

For all her bravado, Pixie is kind of like her bears. She puts up a good front and hopes someone will end up requesting her. But she hasn’t had any takers. Up on the North Pole, her originality isn’t as cool as she wishes it was.

That’s where Glow and Nitro come in. Glow is the punk band she loves and creates fan art for. The band is her one outlet for creativity when she gets into trouble. Nitro? He’s the one person who understands her...except he’s in Ohio and she’s at the North Pole.

Will these two get together? Only time will tell—well, time and Christmas Glow. Grab a copy! You’ll be glad you did. J

~~~

And now a little more about Christmas Glow.

One concert changed her mind, but can one night truly change her life?

Pixie Elf's days of designing punk teddy bears just aren't cutting it. She wants more, including the sexy radio jockey she met at a Glow concert. That is, if he's up for grabs.

Nitro Hicks loves playing the latest rock tunes, but he can't get a certain elf off his mind. Does he have what it takes to rock her world for the long haul?

Magic happens in the Christmas Glow.

Buy link: http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1955

~~~

And now a little bit about me!

When she's not writing the stories in her head, Megan Slayer can be found luxuriating in her hot tub with her two vampire Cabana boys, Luke and Jeremy. She has the tendency to run a tad too far with her muse, so she has to hide in the head of her alter ego, but the boys don't seem to mind.

When she’s not obsessing over her whip collection, she can be found picking up her kidlet from school. She enjoys writing in all genres, but writing about men in love suits her fancy best.

Currently hanging out every Wednesday and Friday at the Menagerie Authors site, hunting Hotties for the Saturday posts, and working on the next great story brewing in her head! 

The cabana boys are willing to serve, unless she needs them. She always need them. So be nice to Javier or he will bite--on command.

She also masquerades under the name Wendi Zwaduk and is published through Changeling Press, Liquid Silver Books, and Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Megan’s site: http://wendizwaduk.com/indexMegan.htm

Megan’s blog: http://theauthormeganslayer.blogspot.com

Megan on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/meganslayer

Megan on Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5330530.Megan_Slayer

Megan on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/theauthormeganslayer

Megan on Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/MeganSlayer

Excerpt from Christmas Glow:

Santa waved his hand. "Okay. The reason you're here is your Christmas list. You've been original, yet invaluable on the stuffed animal production floor." He sighed. "I see you'd like two concert tickets. Glow? Seems like I do something involving them every year."

"Yes. There's someone very special I want to invite." Pixie narrowed her eyes. If she didn't just ask, she'd never get the courage to go through with her plan. "That's where being your helper on the sleigh this year would help out."

His brows rose. "I knew it wasn't something as simple as going on Stub Hub. Lay it out for me."

Pixie sank down into the nearest chair. She'd gotten past the first hurdle, getting into the office and asking. Next obstacle. "My birthday present to myself was the ticket to see Glow in Montreal. That and a plane ticket. Anyway, I met this person there. We clicked and started talking. I had to head home and so did he, but we continued chatting online. I'm putting my heart out there, but I think this is our chance to have the magic from Montreal once more."

She picked at the white fuzz lining the edge of her skirt. He hadn't replied and barely moved. Santa lowered his gaze to the desk. He still didn't say anything. Her heart sank. The longer he stayed quiet, the worse her chances of the wish coming true.

Santa pressed a button on his desk. "Mrs. Claus, I'm in need of your perspective on something." He folded his thick arms and leaned back in his seat. "I'm over my head."

Moments later, his wife strolled into the office. "Hi, Pix. More bears?"

Pixie groaned. Damn bears, anyway.

"What's up?" Mrs. Claus perched on Santa's knee. "This has got to be relationship stuff. You never ask me for help with the production floor."

"Later. I've got some ideas I want to... send your way." He wriggled his brows.

Pixie groaned again. If she didn't think gagging would jeopardize her wish, she might have done that, too.

"We're embarrassing Pix." Mrs. Claus giggled. "Male or female?"

"A man, I believe." Santa tapped the keys on his computer. "Looks like a Nitro Hicks. What a name... Nitro? You've got a thing for a guy named Nitro?"

"Why don't you check on the run of tricycles?" Mrs. Claus stood. "They've been a little slow down there."

Santa's shoulders dropped. "Fine." He climbed out of his chair. "But I'll remember this later."

"You'd better." Mrs. Claus took his vacated seat and waited until he left the room to speak. "You and Nitro, aka Nolan Hicks. Hot and heavy? Spit it out with all the details."

Pixie always had liked Mrs. Claus's no-nonsense style. "It's like this. We met at the concert, but I'm shy. He spoke first and made me feel like I belonged there. We talked, laughed and shared some secrets. I mentioned I might want something more than what I have here in the North Pole. He drove me to the airport. We kissed, talked and had to go our separate ways. Thrilling."

"He's easy on the eyes, I'll agree, and if he kisses the way he looks then, yes, it was probably thrilling. What did he say when he found out about the elf thing?"

"Cleveland was cold like the North Pole. He could dig the chill."

"Cute on all accounts."

"We've chatted and Skyped since the concert. Lots of times." She wasn't about to admit to how hot the chat sessions got. "I'm scared I'm really putting myself out there, but I have to give it a chance."

Commenters on all Changeling Press posts - including this one! - will be entered to win a past Changeling Christmas series! 

Inspiration behind Her Christmas Elf by Sarah Makela

Santa’s Helpers: Her Christmas Elf

By Sarah Mäkelä

Traveling alone in Finland around Christmas isn’t exactly what Vera Hayes had imagined she’d be doing. When her longtime boyfriend dumps her before the trip at the last minute, she decides to go anyways. However, she gets lost in a forest in Lapland and starts to panic until she runs into a magical man who looks suspiciously like an elf without the pointy ears. Pekka, one of Santa’s elves, soothes away her worry and helps her find her way back to her cabin, giving her a Christmas Eve to remember.

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1960

~~~

Winter is my favorite season. I love snow and cold weather. Although, I don’t get either of those nearly enough. So when I saw the call for Santa’s Helper stories, I knew I had to write one.

My story, Her Christmas Elf, came about after doing research on Finland. I’d been researching faeries and elves for another story, when I stumbled upon the Finnish Christmas variety. They were a lot different than the version we’re all used to. They fascinated me since they were seen more as dwarflike humans as opposed to actual elves. Of course, my hero has magical abilities, which make him look normal unless his concentration wavers.

I’ve only been to southern Finland a few times, once even during the Christmas season! Unfortunately, I didn’t see any sexy Christmas elves. But I digress. I set the story up north since Rovaniemi, Finland–which is in Lapland–is supposedly where Santa lives at Santa Claus Village. How perfect for my Santa’s Helpers story! *grin*

My hero and heroine are in the forests outside of Rovaniemi. My hero is watching a herd of reindeer, while my heroine is utterly lost and starting to get really cold. I hope you’ll read it to find out how the story ends up!

~~~

Sarah Mäkelä lives in North Carolina with her husband and cats. In her spare time, she enjoys reading, computer and console games, and traveling all over the world. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, as well as the Heart of Carolina Romance Writers and the Fantasy, Futuristic, and Paranormal chapters. Find her online at www.sarahmakela.com.

Excerpt:

Shivering, Vera Hayes watched the soft snow falling around her. The landscape was so pretty and so dangerous at this chilling temperature, especially considering she had no clue where she was. She'd gone on a walk when the sun had been up, but now darkness rapidly descended on the forest.

Damn it!

This trip had been nothing but trouble, and she'd been stupid to actually take it. Her ex-boyfriend Steve had wanted this, not her. She'd gone ahead with it thinking it would help free her somehow, but this was far from freeing.

Vera stomped her feet and huddled deeper into her coat, which was starting to feel a little too thin for the current weather. She leaned against a birch tree and hunched her shoulders, beyond frustrated with her current predicament.

Snow dusted her, and she scanned the forest again. Hope failed her, and she set off walking again. Damn, damn, damn.

Faint rumbling sounded in the distance behind her and she stopped. The noise grew louder until she could identify it.

Hooves. Lots and lots of hooves. Adrenaline flooded her veins, but her body froze in place from fear.

In the distance, she spotted a herd of reindeer running in her direction. A quick look around her showed no trees with low-hanging branches. So much for easy climbing. She reached for the closest birch, its bark broken by the frost. She wrapped her hands around it and began to climb.

Behind her, the noise grew louder. Among the trees, a herd of reindeer led by a massive gray bull trampled its way through the forest. Snow and frost caved beneath their hooves with almost no resistance.

The glance startled her, and her feet slipped down the birch. Panic struck her chest as she dropped to the ground.

To her left, she saw a small clearing among the trees. She tried to sprint through the almost knee-deep snow, but her progress was too slow. With the herd not far behind, she screamed. When would this nightmare end?

Just as she reached the clearing, a man grabbed her by the arm. He pulled her toward him then and shoved her against a tree, his firm body nestled against her back.

Her breath came out in pants, and not only from her running. "Let me go," she yelled, fear audible in her voice.

"Hush. The herd will ignore you." The man's low, accented voice calmed her a little.

For a moment, Vera considered kicking him and racing away, but his grip tightened on her. He pressed her tighter to the tree. His body molded to hers as if they were puzzle pieces. She only had a second to ponder that as the herd of reindeer stampeded through the clearing.

The large reindeer bull slowed to a stop beside them. Intelligence gleamed in its black, glaring eyes as it waited for the rest of the herd to pass.

"She won't hunt your kin, Old One. I'll look after her," the man said. The reindeer turned its gaze to the man and snorted, shaking its head.

Vera trembled. The cold and numbness she'd been fighting against was draining away her energy. She barely made out the man saying something she couldn't catch. Her attention now focused on the huge bull that stood close enough for her to reach out her hand and touch. The other reindeer were easily her height from hoof to head, but this one made them look small in comparison.

The reindeer stared at her then blew a cloud of steam from its nostrils, obviously not impressed, before galloping after the rest of the herd.

She watched it go until it was barely in sight, then the man grabbed her shoulders. He spun her around, and his gaze dipped to take her in. His expression soured, and he returned his gaze to hers. "What are you doing out here dressed like that?"

Surprise at his audacity had her pulling away from him. His clothing didn't exactly inspire confidence in his sense of fashion either. From what she could tell, his clothing looked to be made of animal pelt. She placed her glove-covered hand against his chest and marveled at the sleek fur.

He snagged her wrist yet didn't move her hand. "There's a storm coming. You shouldn't be out here. You'll die." His gaze whipped over her again, and he grimaced. "Where are you staying?" His words held a melodic lilt that was so pleasant.

"At the cabins." Her teeth chattered a bit more, and she huddled in on herself.

He gave her a quizzical stare then cursed an almost lyrical string of sound. "You're far from safety. What are you doing way out here?"

What did he mean? She hadn't been walking for that long. Or maybe it just hadn't seemed so.

He scooped her into his arms, and she considered falling asleep in the warmth of his grip. But she didn't know anything about him, and after what had just happened with the reindeer...

Commenters on all Changeling Press posts - including this one! - will be entered to win a past Changeling Christmas series! 

Lone Star Angel by Linda Carroll-Bradd

In my historical Christmas story, Lone Star Angel, I wrote of a heroine, Carnelian Wendell, who just wanted to spend the holiday in a safe place. For five years, she’d been estranged from her large family of five siblings, parents and grandparents back in Houston. Her teenaged hasty decision to run off with an adventurous man turned to tragedy when he was gunned down during a stagecoach robbery. A visit to her sister who is a cook on a small west Texas ranch seems timely, as well as a great place to hide out. Carni is as full of life and activity as hero Luc Tarrant is quiet and set in his routine. Times are tough although Luc would say his ranch is getting by. Carni needs to shake off her bad experience and looks for ways to make a celebration. She turns the household upside down by changing the menu, creating holiday decorations, and bringing color into his life. Luc is helpless against her infectious spirit.

Excerpt:

“Whoa, Star, just a little breeze. Nothing more.” Carni Wendell pulled the reins to the left, wondering if she should have paid the stable master to drive her out to the Bar-T Ranch. This time she promised herself she wouldn’t be a burden as a visiting relation, so she’d hired the horse and cart for the month.

In the distance, dark clouds chased the afternoon sun from the base of a craggy mountain. A chilly wind blew across the west Texas hard-packed prairie, twisting a dirt devil and tossing stray tumbleweeds across the path. Star stopped and nickered as an apparition appeared on the horizon.

A dark horse with a rider cantered in her direction and stopped not ten feet away, scraping up a dust cloud.

“Take a wrong turn, lady?”

The broad-shouldered man’s voice was deep and full of suspicion.

“Easy, Star.” With effort, she pulled the prancing horse back to an uneasy stand and turned her attention to the stranger. His hat shaded his eyes, but couldn’t hide a strong jaw covered with beard stubble and a tight mouth pulled down at the edges.

A loose tendril of hair tickled her forehead. With a gloved hand, she tucked it under the knitted scarf wrapped over her ears and neck to fight off the chilly air. “I’m looking for the Bar-T Ranch. Would you know if I’m on the right lane? Can’t really call this uneven, pot-holed path a road.” She paused, expecting the silent stranger to answer.

Leather creaked at his shift in position. He rested a forearm across the pommel and stared.

“The stable master in Wayside Gap told me to turn south at the double fencepost. Not that I’m too good with directions, but those were the only double posts I saw.”

“Thought I recognized Einhardt’s mare.”

What? The man commented on ownership of a horse, not about the boundaries for a cattle ranch? She waited for his confirmation she was headed in the right direction. “So, I did take the correct turn?”

“Could be.” The man stood in the stirrups to peer over her shoulder. “What’s your business here?”

Carni’s gaze was pulled to the muscles straining the thighs of his muddy denims. The man obviously worked hard for a living. How dare a ranch hand question her? Rudeness was not to be tolerated. Grasping the reins with one hand, she reached under the cart seat to collect the velvet reticule lying at her feet. “I’m tired and I’m cold. As wonderful as our conversation has been, I need to get to the Bar-T ranch. I’ll pay you four bits to direct me to the ranch house.”

She dug out the coins and held them suspended over the side of the cart, staring with a narrowed gaze at the man’s shadowed face. When he sat as still as a statute with only his eyes tracking her movements, her temper simmered. However, discussing her personal business with a ranch hand was unthinkable. She shook her hand and raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Okay, six bits.” Another coin was added to her hand.

The wind teased her skirts, flipping back the hem to reveal several inches of a red petticoat.

His gaze flicked to the exposed lingerie and the right side of his mouth quirked for just a second.

She saw his reaction and steamed even more. He’d taken advantage of the wind’s mischief instead of averting his gaze like a gentleman would. “A dollar for the directions. Take it now, I won’t be offering more.” Money well spent to remove herself from the belligerent company of this quiet man.

Several moments passed before he clucked out of the side of his mouth and urged the horse forward until abreast of the cart. “Whoa, Hades.” He held a cupped hand under her outstretched one, looked up from under the brim of his black hat and winked.

Heat flashed through her at his bold gesture. With a quick movement, she released her hand and let the clinking coins drop into his gloved hand. “Your boss will be hearing about your surly attitude.”

He shrugged and wheeled the horse, guiding it to the middle of the path. “Follow me.” Without a look over his shoulder, he trotted up the small rise and disappeared over the top.

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