Kristy McCaffrey's Blog: Author Kristy McCaffrey - Posts Tagged "old-west"
BIG EVENT!! Western Historical Romance Book Sale, Oct. 17 - 20, 2014
Another interruption to my blog series on Creativity, but I think you're gonna like this. The Pioneer Hearts group, a dedicated spot in Facebook cyberspace for readers and writers of Old West romances, has come together to offer an awesome sale. This 99c Western Romance Event will run from October 17th - 20th. Browse the selections and snap up some new reads. Most are available at Kindle, Nook and iBooks. My book, The Dove, is included. Now, you can get both The Wren and The Dove (Books One and Two in my Wings series) for only 99c each!
This sale includes dozens of books for your Kindle, and a selection for your Nook or iBooks libraries, as well. And you know what else is fun? You can win some pretty snazzy prizes!
Want to win one of two $10 Amazon gift cards? Share our sale and follow our authors!
You could also win signed books, a beautiful turquoise pendant necklace (voted a favorite by the Pioneer Hearts Readers Group!), and more!
See Rafflecopter here and win!
See Nook links here (THE DOVE isn't listed, but it's 99cents at Nook also)
See iBooks links here
This sale includes dozens of books for your Kindle, and a selection for your Nook or iBooks libraries, as well. And you know what else is fun? You can win some pretty snazzy prizes!
Want to win one of two $10 Amazon gift cards? Share our sale and follow our authors!
You could also win signed books, a beautiful turquoise pendant necklace (voted a favorite by the Pioneer Hearts Readers Group!), and more!
See Rafflecopter here and win!
See Nook links here (THE DOVE isn't listed, but it's 99cents at Nook also)
See iBooks links here
The Wings of the West Series
By Kristy McCaffrey
I’d like to share background on the formation of my historical western romance series, the Wings of the West. When I began developing characters and ideas, the titles intuitively came to me—The Wren, The Dove, The Sparrow, The Blackbird, and the forthcoming final installment, The Bluebird. How I would tie the birds into the storylines was a great unknown as I began each tale, but one thing emerged rather quickly—an underlying psychological theme of the journey of the feminine psyche.
In The Wren (Book One), the heroine Molly has been abducted by Comanche when she is nine years old. At nineteen, she finally finds the means to return home to Texas, to search for the life she’d lost so abruptly. We must all leave the safety of ‘home’ at some point in our lives to grow, whether physically or metaphorically, and the lesson is always that home isn’t a place outside of us but an internal sanctuary that we must nurture within ourselves. Molly’s journey comes full circle when she makes a home with the hero, Matt.
In The Dove (Book Two), Claire lives in a saloon run by her mama. While Claire herself isn't a soiled dove, she still faces the decisions many women face—does she live a life for herself or for others? How many times do women prostitute themselves because they don't feel they're worthy, or they perceive they have no choice? How do we 'use' others to gain our own ends? Claire also yearns to become a doctor, and this addresses the idea of healing through outside, external means. These can be effective, but only to a point. This leads to the next book.
In The Sparrow (Book Three), the heroine Emma undergoes a shamanic journey of initiation while traversing the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. During this process, she is helped by her power animal, Sparrow. Life causes wounds—we all have them—and while mending these are often sought through medicine, at some point an internal journey will be required. It’s the only way to truly heal the soul. While today we might seek the counsel of a trained psychologist, many indigenous people used the medicine man or shaman. The techniques of both are strikingly similar.
In The Blackbird (Book Four), Tess is a storyteller, A Keeper of the Old Ways; this is, and always has been, connected with imparting wisdom and magic to listeners through the telling of tales. She meets a hero who nurtures and protects this side of her, as any true life-partner should. Stories have the power to heal. It is yet the next step in mending the heart and the soul.
In The Bluebird (Book Five ~ coming October 31st), the heroine Molly Rose (niece to the Molly in the first book) yearns to travel and see the world. She connects with a man who can help her achieve these goals. The final step in the psychological journey—once healing has been undertaken and a new, better version of oneself is achieved—is to take all that’s been learned and go forth in the world. Life is an adventure and is meant to be experienced as such.
To learn more about Kristy’s work, visit her website at www.kristymccaffrey.com or sign up for her newsletter at http://www.kristymccaffrey.com/Newsle...
I’d like to share background on the formation of my historical western romance series, the Wings of the West. When I began developing characters and ideas, the titles intuitively came to me—The Wren, The Dove, The Sparrow, The Blackbird, and the forthcoming final installment, The Bluebird. How I would tie the birds into the storylines was a great unknown as I began each tale, but one thing emerged rather quickly—an underlying psychological theme of the journey of the feminine psyche.
In The Wren (Book One), the heroine Molly has been abducted by Comanche when she is nine years old. At nineteen, she finally finds the means to return home to Texas, to search for the life she’d lost so abruptly. We must all leave the safety of ‘home’ at some point in our lives to grow, whether physically or metaphorically, and the lesson is always that home isn’t a place outside of us but an internal sanctuary that we must nurture within ourselves. Molly’s journey comes full circle when she makes a home with the hero, Matt.
In The Dove (Book Two), Claire lives in a saloon run by her mama. While Claire herself isn't a soiled dove, she still faces the decisions many women face—does she live a life for herself or for others? How many times do women prostitute themselves because they don't feel they're worthy, or they perceive they have no choice? How do we 'use' others to gain our own ends? Claire also yearns to become a doctor, and this addresses the idea of healing through outside, external means. These can be effective, but only to a point. This leads to the next book.
In The Sparrow (Book Three), the heroine Emma undergoes a shamanic journey of initiation while traversing the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. During this process, she is helped by her power animal, Sparrow. Life causes wounds—we all have them—and while mending these are often sought through medicine, at some point an internal journey will be required. It’s the only way to truly heal the soul. While today we might seek the counsel of a trained psychologist, many indigenous people used the medicine man or shaman. The techniques of both are strikingly similar.
In The Blackbird (Book Four), Tess is a storyteller, A Keeper of the Old Ways; this is, and always has been, connected with imparting wisdom and magic to listeners through the telling of tales. She meets a hero who nurtures and protects this side of her, as any true life-partner should. Stories have the power to heal. It is yet the next step in mending the heart and the soul.
In The Bluebird (Book Five ~ coming October 31st), the heroine Molly Rose (niece to the Molly in the first book) yearns to travel and see the world. She connects with a man who can help her achieve these goals. The final step in the psychological journey—once healing has been undertaken and a new, better version of oneself is achieved—is to take all that’s been learned and go forth in the world. Life is an adventure and is meant to be experienced as such.
To learn more about Kristy’s work, visit her website at www.kristymccaffrey.com or sign up for her newsletter at http://www.kristymccaffrey.com/Newsle...
Arizona State University
By Kristy McCaffrey
In 1886, the Arizona Territory offered a less-than-ideal educational environment. The Pleasant Valley War between competing cattle rustling gangs was in full swing and wouldn’t end until six years later in a fatal gunfight in the town of Tempe. Despite this, however, Tempe—with the burgeoning towns of Phoenix and Mesa nearby—would become home to the Arizona Territorial Normal School.
The school was opened on February 8, 1886 on a 20-acre cow pasture that belonged to George and Martha Wilson. The institution began with a four-classroom building, a well, and an outhouse to instruct the first 33 students. These young men and women arrived on horseback—some having ridden for miles from Mesa or tiny farming communities even farther away—and, in addition to their studies, would need to rent a room with a local family during their enrollment.
Teddy Roosevelt visits Old Main at Arizona State University
March 20, 1911
The Normal School was charged to provide “instruction of persons, both male and female, in the art of teaching, and in all the various branches that pertain to a good common school education; also, to give instruction in the mechanical arts and in husbandry and agricultural chemistry, in the fundamental law of the United States, and in what regards the rights and duties of citizens.”
Charles Trumbull Hayden
The idea for a school of higher education was spearheaded by two men, Charles T. Hayden and John S. Armstrong. Arizona Territory was struggling to achieve statehood but the national press loved to print stories of the lawlessness present. It was Hayden who sought to civilize the place with education and culture.
Today, Arizona State University is a sprawling multi-campus school with over 71,000 students and covers more than 1,500 acres in metro Phoenix.
Kristy McCaffrey is an alumni of Arizona State, along with her husband, mother, father, and two uncles. Her oldest son currently attends. As a newly-married couple, Kristy and her husband named their dog Sparky after the ASU mascot.
In 1886, the Arizona Territory offered a less-than-ideal educational environment. The Pleasant Valley War between competing cattle rustling gangs was in full swing and wouldn’t end until six years later in a fatal gunfight in the town of Tempe. Despite this, however, Tempe—with the burgeoning towns of Phoenix and Mesa nearby—would become home to the Arizona Territorial Normal School.
The school was opened on February 8, 1886 on a 20-acre cow pasture that belonged to George and Martha Wilson. The institution began with a four-classroom building, a well, and an outhouse to instruct the first 33 students. These young men and women arrived on horseback—some having ridden for miles from Mesa or tiny farming communities even farther away—and, in addition to their studies, would need to rent a room with a local family during their enrollment.
Teddy Roosevelt visits Old Main at Arizona State University
March 20, 1911
The Normal School was charged to provide “instruction of persons, both male and female, in the art of teaching, and in all the various branches that pertain to a good common school education; also, to give instruction in the mechanical arts and in husbandry and agricultural chemistry, in the fundamental law of the United States, and in what regards the rights and duties of citizens.”
Charles Trumbull Hayden
The idea for a school of higher education was spearheaded by two men, Charles T. Hayden and John S. Armstrong. Arizona Territory was struggling to achieve statehood but the national press loved to print stories of the lawlessness present. It was Hayden who sought to civilize the place with education and culture.
Today, Arizona State University is a sprawling multi-campus school with over 71,000 students and covers more than 1,500 acres in metro Phoenix.
Kristy McCaffrey is an alumni of Arizona State, along with her husband, mother, father, and two uncles. Her oldest son currently attends. As a newly-married couple, Kristy and her husband named their dog Sparky after the ASU mascot.
Arizona State University
By Kristy McCaffrey
In 1886, the Arizona Territory offered a less-than-ideal educational environment. The Pleasant Valley War between competing cattle rustling gangs was in full swing and wouldn’t end until six years later in a fatal gunfight in the town of Tempe. Despite this, however, Tempe—with the burgeoning towns of Phoenix and Mesa nearby—would become home to the Arizona Territorial Normal School.
The school was opened on February 8, 1886 on a 20-acre cow pasture that belonged to George and Martha Wilson. The institution began with a four-classroom building, a well, and an outhouse to instruct the first 33 students. These young men and women arrived on horseback—some having ridden for miles from Mesa or tiny farming communities even farther away—and, in addition to their studies, would need to rent a room with a local family during their enrollment.
Teddy Roosevelt visits Old Main at Arizona State University
March 20, 1911
The Normal School was charged to provide “instruction of persons, both male and female, in the art of teaching, and in all the various branches that pertain to a good common school education; also, to give instruction in the mechanical arts and in husbandry and agricultural chemistry, in the fundamental law of the United States, and in what regards the rights and duties of citizens.”
Charles Trumbull Hayden
The idea for a school of higher education was spearheaded by two men, Charles T. Hayden and John S. Armstrong. Arizona Territory was struggling to achieve statehood but the national press loved to print stories of the lawlessness present. It was Hayden who sought to civilize the place with education and culture.
Today, Arizona State University is a sprawling multi-campus school with over 71,000 students and covers more than 1,500 acres in metro Phoenix.
Kristy McCaffrey is an alumni of Arizona State, along with her husband, mother, father, and two uncles. Her oldest son currently attends. As a newly-married couple, Kristy and her husband named their dog Sparky after the ASU mascot.
In 1886, the Arizona Territory offered a less-than-ideal educational environment. The Pleasant Valley War between competing cattle rustling gangs was in full swing and wouldn’t end until six years later in a fatal gunfight in the town of Tempe. Despite this, however, Tempe—with the burgeoning towns of Phoenix and Mesa nearby—would become home to the Arizona Territorial Normal School.
The school was opened on February 8, 1886 on a 20-acre cow pasture that belonged to George and Martha Wilson. The institution began with a four-classroom building, a well, and an outhouse to instruct the first 33 students. These young men and women arrived on horseback—some having ridden for miles from Mesa or tiny farming communities even farther away—and, in addition to their studies, would need to rent a room with a local family during their enrollment.
Teddy Roosevelt visits Old Main at Arizona State University
March 20, 1911
The Normal School was charged to provide “instruction of persons, both male and female, in the art of teaching, and in all the various branches that pertain to a good common school education; also, to give instruction in the mechanical arts and in husbandry and agricultural chemistry, in the fundamental law of the United States, and in what regards the rights and duties of citizens.”
Charles Trumbull Hayden
The idea for a school of higher education was spearheaded by two men, Charles T. Hayden and John S. Armstrong. Arizona Territory was struggling to achieve statehood but the national press loved to print stories of the lawlessness present. It was Hayden who sought to civilize the place with education and culture.
Today, Arizona State University is a sprawling multi-campus school with over 71,000 students and covers more than 1,500 acres in metro Phoenix.
Kristy McCaffrey is an alumni of Arizona State, along with her husband, mother, father, and two uncles. Her oldest son currently attends. As a newly-married couple, Kristy and her husband named their dog Sparky after the ASU mascot.
INTO THE LAND OF SHADOWS By Kristy McCaffrey – May #blogabookscene #westernromance #prairierosepubs @prairierosepubs
By Kristy McCaffrey
Blog-a-Book-Scene is a monthly themed blogging endeavor from a group of authors who love to share excerpts from their stories. Find us on Twitter with the hashtag #blogabookscene and #PrairieRosePubs.
May's theme is Mayday! Mayday! This excerpt is from my historical western paranormal romance novel, Into The Land Of Shadows.
In the land of the Navajo, spirits and desire draw Ethan and Kate close, leading them deeper into the shadows and to each other.
Excerpt
“Let’s head upstream and look for a crossing.” Ethan put the map back into his saddlebag and shifted his gaze to something in the distance. “That doesn’t look good.”
Kate looked over her shoulder. Three riders approached, some distance away. Kate turned Brandy so she could have a better look. Whiskey moved so close to her daughter that Ethan’s shoulder bumped Kate’s from behind.
“That couldn’t possibly be them, could it?” she asked. Appalled that the three men who had stolen her horse were still after her, and trying her best to act as if she bumped shoulders with men she found compelling every day, she made a decision right then and there. “I’m not giving up Fred [the donkey].”
“Then move it, Kinsella,” Ethan said. He pushed Whiskey into a gallop.
They rode the horses, Fred tied behind Whiskey and moving at a good clip, up a rocky incline, climbing above the waterfall to their left. They moved faster, riding parallel to the river. Kate noticed the waterway was wide and although it didn’t look deep she really had no desire to cross so close to the waterfall. A sickening feeling of falling swept over her at the thought of plunging over the mesa.
Ethan kept pushing forward and Kate thankfully had to do very little to keep Brandy on pace with him. Kate chanced a glance over her right shoulder. The riders were moving at a faster clip. Ethan pulled his gun.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, jolted with panic. She was between Ethan and the men chasing them; was he going to shoot her?
He slowed Whiskey just a bit but didn’t take a shot. “Get on the other side of me,” he yelled.
Kate pushed Brandy ahead and to the left. Ethan protected her on one side while the river threatened to swallow her and Brandy up on the other.
The three riders gained on them and the sound of gunfire made Kate’s heart slam into her chest.
“Ride low, Kate,” Ethan commanded. He shot several times in succession and the three riders were forced to scatter. “We need to cross. Look for a low spot.”
Kate started searching the shoreline. They’d moved about a quarter-mile upriver from the waterfall so the current should have lessened but Kate really didn’t want to test that theory.
“I don’t know,” she said. “It all looks pretty much the same.”
“Then let’s go. Remember to hold tight to Brandy, especially if it gets too deep.”
Kate’s mouth went dry as she turned her horse to the left and splashed into the muddy waters. It wasn’t deep and Brandy moved swiftly. The horse jostled Kate up and down as the water rose to Brandy’s belly. Kate’s boots got wet. Brandy kept moving, but started to slow, fighting the current. Kate looked behind and saw Ethan, Whiskey, and Fred still on the shoreline. She swung her head around to look over her other shoulder. One of their assailants closed in. Kate panicked. She should do something. She tried to turn Brandy around but the horse resisted.
“Of all the times to become independent,” Kate growled. “Go back to mama, Brandy.” The horse stayed the course.
Kate looked back again. Ethan had dismounted and shooed Whiskey and Fred into the river. The two animals moved toward her, kicking up a flurry of water. Brandy wouldn’t turn around so all Kate could do was wait for the other two animals to catch them. She watched with mounting concern as Ethan took cover behind a scrub brush with a gun in one hand and a rifle in the other. Enemy number one took aim at Kate. Ethan opened fire as Kate fell off Brandy’s back and into the water.
The current pulled her feet from under her and she frantically tried to hold onto something but lost her grip on Brandy’s saddle. She moved down river with surprising speed. It wasn’t deep, but her feet slipped repeatedly every time she tried to dig her heels into the soft bottom. Her hat bobbed behind her, pulling the drawstring against her neck. She choked as much from that as from the water splashing onto her face, into her mouth, and up her nose.
I have to stop. She’d fly off the waterfall any second. Her arms flailed to find anything. She tried to swim against the current, stroking with one arm then another but gasped for breath.
She jerked to a stop. Her foot was caught on a spindly branch protruding from the swirling fluid. Grabbing the smooth wood with both hands, she prayed it would hold. She was able to stand, but only a little; the water was just below her breasts. The strong current made it impossible to get to shore. She must be close to the waterfall.
Help! Help me!
In the distance she heard a voice. “Kate. Kate!”
“Ethan!” She hoped he could hear her. “Ethan! Over here!”
She searched for him on the western bank.
“Kate!”
He was behind her atop Whiskey. Brandy and Fred were with him, as unhappy as Kate if their agitation was any indication.
“Hang on,” he yelled. “I’m gonna get you.”
He detached a circle of rope from Whiskey’s saddle, unwound it then positioned himself partially in the water.
“I’m gonna throw you the rope,” he yelled. “Grab onto it.”
She nodded, although she doubted he could see her response. Her hands felt slippery on the thin wood she grasped and her breathing came in short, rapid bursts.
Ethan spun the rope above his head and cast it upriver from her. The current brought it to her and she reached out to grab it as it floated by but she missed it by inches. She spun around her wooden anchor and almost lost her grip entirely. In a panic she struggled to grab back on. She heard her voice and realized she was screaming and crying.
“Katie! Honey, look at me,” Ethan said.
Her back was to him now. She was terrified to move. “I can’t, I can’t,” she chanted to herself. If she yelled, the force of her voice might dislodge her from the only thing keeping her from rushing over the waterfall.
Get hold of yourself, Kate. But she couldn’t. Her arms were paralyzed, and she could hardly breathe. She needed to grab the rope again when Ethan tossed it to her; she needed to just extend one hand from the safety of her barely-there tree. Move your arm. She closed her eyes and prayed for courage. A sob escaped. She couldn’t bring herself to let go. As long as she held on, she survived. If she let go, the water could push her from her only anchor. She squeezed her eyes shut again.
She’d be killed. Her mama flashed through her mind. She hadn’t spoken to her in two years, had barely corresponded via letters. And now she would die and there would be no more opportunities.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she chanted. But her mama couldn’t hear her. Neither could Owen or Petey. Or Mrs. Finley. She’d die, and she was only twenty years old.
“Katie! Look at me.” Ethan’s voice was louder, closer.
She lifted her gaze; she trembled so much that the hair hanging in her face shook. Ethan was in the water, coming toward her.
Copyright © 2013 K. McCaffrey LLC
Available in digital and print at Amazon and also in Kindle Unlimited.
Blog-a-Book-Scene is a monthly themed blogging endeavor from a group of authors who love to share excerpts from their stories. Find us on Twitter with the hashtag #blogabookscene and #PrairieRosePubs.
May's theme is Mayday! Mayday! This excerpt is from my historical western paranormal romance novel, Into The Land Of Shadows.
In the land of the Navajo, spirits and desire draw Ethan and Kate close, leading them deeper into the shadows and to each other.
Excerpt
“Let’s head upstream and look for a crossing.” Ethan put the map back into his saddlebag and shifted his gaze to something in the distance. “That doesn’t look good.”
Kate looked over her shoulder. Three riders approached, some distance away. Kate turned Brandy so she could have a better look. Whiskey moved so close to her daughter that Ethan’s shoulder bumped Kate’s from behind.
“That couldn’t possibly be them, could it?” she asked. Appalled that the three men who had stolen her horse were still after her, and trying her best to act as if she bumped shoulders with men she found compelling every day, she made a decision right then and there. “I’m not giving up Fred [the donkey].”
“Then move it, Kinsella,” Ethan said. He pushed Whiskey into a gallop.
They rode the horses, Fred tied behind Whiskey and moving at a good clip, up a rocky incline, climbing above the waterfall to their left. They moved faster, riding parallel to the river. Kate noticed the waterway was wide and although it didn’t look deep she really had no desire to cross so close to the waterfall. A sickening feeling of falling swept over her at the thought of plunging over the mesa.
Ethan kept pushing forward and Kate thankfully had to do very little to keep Brandy on pace with him. Kate chanced a glance over her right shoulder. The riders were moving at a faster clip. Ethan pulled his gun.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, jolted with panic. She was between Ethan and the men chasing them; was he going to shoot her?
He slowed Whiskey just a bit but didn’t take a shot. “Get on the other side of me,” he yelled.
Kate pushed Brandy ahead and to the left. Ethan protected her on one side while the river threatened to swallow her and Brandy up on the other.
The three riders gained on them and the sound of gunfire made Kate’s heart slam into her chest.
“Ride low, Kate,” Ethan commanded. He shot several times in succession and the three riders were forced to scatter. “We need to cross. Look for a low spot.”
Kate started searching the shoreline. They’d moved about a quarter-mile upriver from the waterfall so the current should have lessened but Kate really didn’t want to test that theory.
“I don’t know,” she said. “It all looks pretty much the same.”
“Then let’s go. Remember to hold tight to Brandy, especially if it gets too deep.”
Kate’s mouth went dry as she turned her horse to the left and splashed into the muddy waters. It wasn’t deep and Brandy moved swiftly. The horse jostled Kate up and down as the water rose to Brandy’s belly. Kate’s boots got wet. Brandy kept moving, but started to slow, fighting the current. Kate looked behind and saw Ethan, Whiskey, and Fred still on the shoreline. She swung her head around to look over her other shoulder. One of their assailants closed in. Kate panicked. She should do something. She tried to turn Brandy around but the horse resisted.
“Of all the times to become independent,” Kate growled. “Go back to mama, Brandy.” The horse stayed the course.
Kate looked back again. Ethan had dismounted and shooed Whiskey and Fred into the river. The two animals moved toward her, kicking up a flurry of water. Brandy wouldn’t turn around so all Kate could do was wait for the other two animals to catch them. She watched with mounting concern as Ethan took cover behind a scrub brush with a gun in one hand and a rifle in the other. Enemy number one took aim at Kate. Ethan opened fire as Kate fell off Brandy’s back and into the water.
The current pulled her feet from under her and she frantically tried to hold onto something but lost her grip on Brandy’s saddle. She moved down river with surprising speed. It wasn’t deep, but her feet slipped repeatedly every time she tried to dig her heels into the soft bottom. Her hat bobbed behind her, pulling the drawstring against her neck. She choked as much from that as from the water splashing onto her face, into her mouth, and up her nose.
I have to stop. She’d fly off the waterfall any second. Her arms flailed to find anything. She tried to swim against the current, stroking with one arm then another but gasped for breath.
She jerked to a stop. Her foot was caught on a spindly branch protruding from the swirling fluid. Grabbing the smooth wood with both hands, she prayed it would hold. She was able to stand, but only a little; the water was just below her breasts. The strong current made it impossible to get to shore. She must be close to the waterfall.
Help! Help me!
In the distance she heard a voice. “Kate. Kate!”
“Ethan!” She hoped he could hear her. “Ethan! Over here!”
She searched for him on the western bank.
“Kate!”
He was behind her atop Whiskey. Brandy and Fred were with him, as unhappy as Kate if their agitation was any indication.
“Hang on,” he yelled. “I’m gonna get you.”
He detached a circle of rope from Whiskey’s saddle, unwound it then positioned himself partially in the water.
“I’m gonna throw you the rope,” he yelled. “Grab onto it.”
She nodded, although she doubted he could see her response. Her hands felt slippery on the thin wood she grasped and her breathing came in short, rapid bursts.
Ethan spun the rope above his head and cast it upriver from her. The current brought it to her and she reached out to grab it as it floated by but she missed it by inches. She spun around her wooden anchor and almost lost her grip entirely. In a panic she struggled to grab back on. She heard her voice and realized she was screaming and crying.
“Katie! Honey, look at me,” Ethan said.
Her back was to him now. She was terrified to move. “I can’t, I can’t,” she chanted to herself. If she yelled, the force of her voice might dislodge her from the only thing keeping her from rushing over the waterfall.
Get hold of yourself, Kate. But she couldn’t. Her arms were paralyzed, and she could hardly breathe. She needed to grab the rope again when Ethan tossed it to her; she needed to just extend one hand from the safety of her barely-there tree. Move your arm. She closed her eyes and prayed for courage. A sob escaped. She couldn’t bring herself to let go. As long as she held on, she survived. If she let go, the water could push her from her only anchor. She squeezed her eyes shut again.
She’d be killed. Her mama flashed through her mind. She hadn’t spoken to her in two years, had barely corresponded via letters. And now she would die and there would be no more opportunities.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she chanted. But her mama couldn’t hear her. Neither could Owen or Petey. Or Mrs. Finley. She’d die, and she was only twenty years old.
“Katie! Look at me.” Ethan’s voice was louder, closer.
She lifted her gaze; she trembled so much that the hair hanging in her face shook. Ethan was in the water, coming toward her.
Copyright © 2013 K. McCaffrey LLC
Available in digital and print at Amazon and also in Kindle Unlimited.
Into The Land Of Shadows by Kristy McCaffrey - June #blogabookscene #westernromance #prairierosepubs @prairierosepubs
By Kristy McCaffrey
Blog-a-Book-Scene is a monthly themed blogging endeavor from a group of authors who love to share excerpts from their stories. Find us on Twitter with the hashtag #blogabookscene and #PrairieRosePubs.
June's theme is On The Road Again. This excerpt is from my historical western paranormal romance novel, Into The Land Of Shadows, in which Ethan Barstow decides to help Kate Kinsella find his brother, who he believes is her fiance.
Excerpt
Kate wondered how far she’d get on foot before the man standing a few feet away caught her and did God-knew-what.
Ethan Barstow.
Of all her bad luck. She had never met the man, but Charley’s recollections of his brother filled her head. Liar. Swindler. Killer.
“You must be Charley’s fiancée,” he said, watching her closely, his gaze dark.
Swell. He knew who she was. She nodded, deciding now wasn’t the time to share the truth about her and Charley's relationship. Instinct told her she needed to ditch Mister Barstow, but losing the donkey was a bit of a problem. Maybe she could find the animal herself on foot. But what if the three buffoons who’d stolen her horse were still out there?
“I arrived in Flagstaff three days ago looking for Charley,” Ethan said. “I was told he’d left town unexpectedly so I’ve been trailing him. I take it you don’t know where he is, either?”
She cleared her throat. “No, I don’t.”
“Is there some reason why he wouldn’t tell you where he was going?”
Well, it’s not me, but Agnes he didn’t tell. It was far too complicated to explain, least of all to this man, so she uttered, “We’ve had a bit of a misunderstanding.”
“Yeah, Charley and I’ve had a bit of a misunderstanding as well,” Ethan said quietly, almost to himself.
Kate plastered the biggest smile she could onto her face. “I think I’ll just go look for that donkey myself. I really don’t want to be a bother to you.”
She moved past the man who was a dead ringer for Charley, possessing the same angular cheek bones and long nose, the same dark hair, the same lean build as her fiancé. Her fiancé! What a ridiculous mess that was. There had been a time, far back in the beginning of her acquaintance with Charley, when she’d found him attractive and fun. It had been short-lived, especially once Agnes entered the picture. Now, she was face-to-face with a man much like Charley, but while his eyes had been green and his demeanor inviting, Ethan’s eyes were blue, almost gray, like a lake frozen over.
There were other differences, as well, and none of them flattered Ethan. He was a man who had killed other men, and Kate knew she would never find anything appealing in that.
“Hang on a minute,” he said. His hand wrapped around her forearm to stop her—a large, warm hand. “I don’t suppose you have any idea who I am since Charley and I haven’t spoken in over five years, but I came to Flagstaff to hopefully put the past in the past. I came to see if Charley and I could bury our differences. The least I can do is to help you find him, especially since we’ll be kin one day.”
She made the mistake of looking into his eyes. Up close, she could see flecks of gold buried within the blue, and a few wrinkles in the skin around the edges of his eyes. It must be her imagination that he seemed the slightest bit more friendly. Charley had charm and it would seem Ethan did as well, although Kate sensed it wasn’t without shadows.
A killer of men would undoubtedly have many shadows to keep him company. She couldn’t think of how to reply. The last thing she wanted was company, and least of all Ethan’s company. She’d find her damned fiancé herself.
“Yes, it would make sense to look together.” So much for thinking fast on her feet. Her brother, Owen, had always said she was a little slow off the mark. It would seem he was right.
“You can ride Brandy,” Ethan said as he released her arm.
He moved to his other horse and began untying the bags of supplies he’d brought with him. He moved the largest satchel to his horse and tied several knots swiftly to anchor it in place. Kate chewed her lip. She could just make a run for it. The only after-effect of her fall from the donkey was a splitting headache—her legs were perfectly fine. But Ethan would probably chase her down. And then, he’d wonder what was wrong with her. And then, maybe he’d just shoot her in the back if he decided she wasn’t worth the trouble.
The image horrified her. Perhaps she should at least be civil to the man, to ward off her immediate murder. An opportunity for escape would surely present itself.
She had a plan. This was good. She would make small talk with Charley’s brother, then run for her life when she got the chance.
Copyright © 2013 K. McCaffrey LLC
Available in digital and print at Amazon and also in Kindle Unlimited.
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Blog-a-Book-Scene is a monthly themed blogging endeavor from a group of authors who love to share excerpts from their stories. Find us on Twitter with the hashtag #blogabookscene and #PrairieRosePubs.
June's theme is On The Road Again. This excerpt is from my historical western paranormal romance novel, Into The Land Of Shadows, in which Ethan Barstow decides to help Kate Kinsella find his brother, who he believes is her fiance.
Excerpt
Kate wondered how far she’d get on foot before the man standing a few feet away caught her and did God-knew-what.
Ethan Barstow.
Of all her bad luck. She had never met the man, but Charley’s recollections of his brother filled her head. Liar. Swindler. Killer.
“You must be Charley’s fiancée,” he said, watching her closely, his gaze dark.
Swell. He knew who she was. She nodded, deciding now wasn’t the time to share the truth about her and Charley's relationship. Instinct told her she needed to ditch Mister Barstow, but losing the donkey was a bit of a problem. Maybe she could find the animal herself on foot. But what if the three buffoons who’d stolen her horse were still out there?
“I arrived in Flagstaff three days ago looking for Charley,” Ethan said. “I was told he’d left town unexpectedly so I’ve been trailing him. I take it you don’t know where he is, either?”
She cleared her throat. “No, I don’t.”
“Is there some reason why he wouldn’t tell you where he was going?”
Well, it’s not me, but Agnes he didn’t tell. It was far too complicated to explain, least of all to this man, so she uttered, “We’ve had a bit of a misunderstanding.”
“Yeah, Charley and I’ve had a bit of a misunderstanding as well,” Ethan said quietly, almost to himself.
Kate plastered the biggest smile she could onto her face. “I think I’ll just go look for that donkey myself. I really don’t want to be a bother to you.”
She moved past the man who was a dead ringer for Charley, possessing the same angular cheek bones and long nose, the same dark hair, the same lean build as her fiancé. Her fiancé! What a ridiculous mess that was. There had been a time, far back in the beginning of her acquaintance with Charley, when she’d found him attractive and fun. It had been short-lived, especially once Agnes entered the picture. Now, she was face-to-face with a man much like Charley, but while his eyes had been green and his demeanor inviting, Ethan’s eyes were blue, almost gray, like a lake frozen over.
There were other differences, as well, and none of them flattered Ethan. He was a man who had killed other men, and Kate knew she would never find anything appealing in that.
“Hang on a minute,” he said. His hand wrapped around her forearm to stop her—a large, warm hand. “I don’t suppose you have any idea who I am since Charley and I haven’t spoken in over five years, but I came to Flagstaff to hopefully put the past in the past. I came to see if Charley and I could bury our differences. The least I can do is to help you find him, especially since we’ll be kin one day.”
She made the mistake of looking into his eyes. Up close, she could see flecks of gold buried within the blue, and a few wrinkles in the skin around the edges of his eyes. It must be her imagination that he seemed the slightest bit more friendly. Charley had charm and it would seem Ethan did as well, although Kate sensed it wasn’t without shadows.
A killer of men would undoubtedly have many shadows to keep him company. She couldn’t think of how to reply. The last thing she wanted was company, and least of all Ethan’s company. She’d find her damned fiancé herself.
“Yes, it would make sense to look together.” So much for thinking fast on her feet. Her brother, Owen, had always said she was a little slow off the mark. It would seem he was right.
“You can ride Brandy,” Ethan said as he released her arm.
He moved to his other horse and began untying the bags of supplies he’d brought with him. He moved the largest satchel to his horse and tied several knots swiftly to anchor it in place. Kate chewed her lip. She could just make a run for it. The only after-effect of her fall from the donkey was a splitting headache—her legs were perfectly fine. But Ethan would probably chase her down. And then, he’d wonder what was wrong with her. And then, maybe he’d just shoot her in the back if he decided she wasn’t worth the trouble.
The image horrified her. Perhaps she should at least be civil to the man, to ward off her immediate murder. An opportunity for escape would surely present itself.
She had a plan. This was good. She would make small talk with Charley’s brother, then run for her life when she got the chance.
Copyright © 2013 K. McCaffrey LLC
Available in digital and print at Amazon and also in Kindle Unlimited.
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New Release - A Murder of Crows
Book 3 releases today!!
Hallowtide has never been scarier in the Old West! The Crow Series features a trio of bounty hunter brothers descended from a Scottish/Comanche lineage. Jack, Callum, and Kester ("Kit") Boggs fight the darker forces of the night while aiding the women they can't live without. Each short novella is only 99 cents or free in KU.
The Crow and the Coyote
The Crow and the Bear
A Murder of Crows
Bounty hunter Kester “Kit” Boggs, along with his brothers, tracks and destroys the vilest of men, both from this world and the next. With a Scottish and Comanche lineage, his connection to the supernatural is tied directly to the crow. For too long, he’s been hunting El Viejo del Saco, a demon known as The Bag Man who feeds on the blood of children. A rumor leads Kit to the Mexican frontier, where he must find a man called Hamish Kerr. But with Hallowtide descending, Kit has lost his ability to hear spirits, and his only hope is a woman whose family is a sworn enemy to the Boggs’ clan.
Eliza McCulloch’s ancestors hail from Scotland, her clan carrying an ancient curse and a warning—a McCulloch may never bind herself to a Boggs. When Eliza learns that Hamish Kerr stole her family’s book of spells, the McCulloch Grimoire, nearly two decades ago, she sets out to reclaim it. Often called witch, she possesses a unique skill to open doorways to the other side. But when she finds herself beholden to a Boggs for protection, her abilities take an unexpected turn.
As Kit and Eliza unearth far more than a stolen book, they must work together if they are to survive. But with the past pushing into their future, can they resist the growing desire between them? Is it possible for a Boggs and a McCulloch to find lasting love? Or will defeating the demon separate them forever?
Excerpt from A Murder of Crows
“There are more of you?” Eliza asked.
Kester gave a nod. “But I’m currently alone.”
“Would you help me, Mister Crow?”
“Like I said, you can call me Kit. Why are you looking for Kerr?”
“Unfinished business.”
“Why would you get into bed with a Boggs?” He immediately regretted his choice of words, not only from the withering look Eliza cast upon him, but also because bedding her was a desire that had taken residence in his head, and he doubted it would leave anytime soon.
A Boggs is never to touch a McCulloch.
Kit set his jaw. It was definitely Granny in his ear. Hell of a time for her suddenly to confide in him. He bristled at the smug authority in her tone, transporting him back to his boyhood when Granny’s exasperation with him inevitably led to a rant.
“Kester, your stubbornness will lead you into trouble. I’m trying to help you. It’s my duty to teach you. Heed my warning, grandson.”
“I’m not offering you my body, Crow,” Eliza said, an edge to her words.
“What are you offering?”
“You’re a hunter of the night. I’ll pay you to help me track down Hamish Kerr.”
Leaning back in the chair, Kit stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankle. He almost laughed. This whole thing was going south, and fast. As much as he’d like to help the pretty McCulloch, she had no business going anywhere near Hamish.
“I’m afraid I’ve got my own agenda,” he answered. “You should let this go, and you should leave town as soon as possible.”
Eliza arched an eyebrow. “Let me get this straight. You tell me I’m incapable of handling this myself, but when I ask for your help, you say no.” She shook her head, her look dismissive. “Then I will leave.” She stood.
He immediately came to his feet, blocking her path to the door. “No.”
“You don’t want to bed me, and you don’t want to help me. I think we’re done here.”
How wrong she was on the first count, but he didn’t voice it aloud.
“Get out of my way,” she demanded. “I’ll find Kerr on my own.”
It would seem he wasn’t about to be free of the McCulloch siren after all. And despite the danger, a traitorous part of him was glad for it.
Kit brought his hand to her dark hair and lifted the strands spilling over her shoulder. The awareness between them was palpable. It pleased him that she didn’t pull away.
“Fine.” He watched her, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I’ll help you.”
“A McCulloch cannot bind herself to a Boggs,” she whispered, then raised her gaze, renewed once again with a flash of hard determination. “I offered to pay you, not to pleasure you.”
He didn’t bother to hide his grin, which soon turned into a full-on laugh.
Copyright © 2018 K. McCaffrey LLC
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A Virtual Arizona Visit
By Kristy McCaffrey
We're going through a tough time worldwide. I'm fortunate to live in the beautiful state of Arizona, so let's relax our minds, take a few deep breaths, and enjoy the scenery.
View of the Grand Canyon from the South Rim
My daughter Hannah atop Black Mountain.
Behind her is the Phoenix Metropolitan Area.
My dad on a hike to The Wave, a sandstone formation located along the Arizona/Utah border.
The Wave.
Downtown Flagstaff in Northern Arizona.
Desert storm near our house in Phoenix.
Lake Powell.
This photo was taken by my daughter Hannah at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Tourists like to feed the squirrels, so they're a little chubby.
The serenity of the Sonoran Desert.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
"Wild Geese" by poet Mary Oliver
All photos by Kristy McCaffrey (unless otherwise stated)
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Blog ~ Pathways
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We're going through a tough time worldwide. I'm fortunate to live in the beautiful state of Arizona, so let's relax our minds, take a few deep breaths, and enjoy the scenery.
View of the Grand Canyon from the South Rim
My daughter Hannah atop Black Mountain.
Behind her is the Phoenix Metropolitan Area.
My dad on a hike to The Wave, a sandstone formation located along the Arizona/Utah border.
The Wave.
Downtown Flagstaff in Northern Arizona.
Desert storm near our house in Phoenix.
Lake Powell.
This photo was taken by my daughter Hannah at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Tourists like to feed the squirrels, so they're a little chubby.
The serenity of the Sonoran Desert.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
"Wild Geese" by poet Mary Oliver
All photos by Kristy McCaffrey (unless otherwise stated)
Connect with Kristy
Website
Blog ~ Pathways
Newsletter
Author Kristy McCaffrey
Kristy McCaffrey writes western historical and contemporary romances. She and her husband live in Arizona with their two dogs. Visit her online at kristymccaffrey.com.
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