Kristy McCaffrey's Blog: Author Kristy McCaffrey - Posts Tagged "old-west-romance"
New Release – The Blackbird by Kristy McCaffrey
I'm so pleased to announce that Book Four in my Wings of the West series, The Blackbird, is now available in digital formats!!
Historical Western Romance
Rating: Steamy
Kindle
Smashwords
***The links for Nook, iTunes and Kobo should be live in a few days.
Arizona Territory 1877
Bounty hunter Cale Walker arrives in Tucson to search for J. Howard “Hank” Carlisle at the request of his daughter, Tess. Hank mentored Cale before a falling out divided them, and a mountain lion attack left Cale nearly dead. Rescued by a band of Nednai Apache, his wounds were considered a powerful omen and he was taught the ways of a di-yin, or a medicine man. To locate Hank, Cale must enter the Dragoon Mountains, straddling two worlds that no longer fit. But he has an even bigger problem—finding a way into the heart of a young woman determined to live life as a bystander.
For two years, Tess Carlisle has tried to heal the mental and physical wounds of a deadly assault by one of her papá’s men. Continuing the traditions of her Mexican heritage, she has honed her skills as a cuentista, a storyteller and a Keeper of the Old Ways. But with no contact from her father since the attack, she fears the worst. Tess knows that to reenter Hank Carlisle’s world is a dangerous endeavor, and her only hope is Cale Walker, a man unlike any she has ever known. Determined to make a journey that could lead straight into the path of her attacker, she hardens her resolve along with her heart. But Cale makes her yearn for something she vowed she never would—love.
First Kiss Excerpt
After they ate and cleaned up, Tess excused herself and went behind the mesquite for privacy, limping but determined to not use her cane. After attending to personal matters, she paused to watch the still nearly-full moon shining brightly in the starry sky. The horses snorted nearby, and she went to them for a brief visit. Gideon happily greeted her with a nudge, and to Tess’s surprise, so did Bo.
She reveled in the affection of the two boys, but when she moved to Moses he rebuffed her, which also made her smile.
“I can respect that,” she whispered.
As she walked back toward Cale and the fire, her foot caught on a rock and she tripped. Falling to the side, she landed hard against a boulder with her injured leg. She must have screamed because Cale appeared within seconds.
“What happened?” he asked. “I was getting concerned when you didn’t return.”
“Nothing.” Hating her weakness, she tried to push his hands away and stand, but her leg gave out. He caught her and held her upright. “I just fell, that's all. I'll be fine. Just give me a moment.”
Cale lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the fire. He settled her atop her pallet and knelt before her. “Tess, will you let me have a look at it?”
Panic swept her. “No.”
“What are you afraid of? That I haven't seen anything so hideous before?”
A response clogged her throat.
He removed his vest, then began unbuttoning the placket on his blue chambray shirt. Alarm snaked down her spine. “What...what are you...”
“I want to show you my injury.”
“Oh.” She really couldn't reconcile her ambivalence. On the one hand, any overture by a man that came close to indicating sexual contact set her heart to pounding and filled her with an overwhelming urge to flee. On the other, slivers of curiosity sometimes whispered in her ear, of what it could be like with a man who cared, of what hidden magic such contact could hold. She carried many stories in her repertoire, and there had been those of wild, desperate longings between a man and a woman, of a love so fierce it changed the world. Could those tales be believed? What would it be like to love a man such as Cale?
He pulled his shirt over his head, and shifted to face her better. Her eyes settled onto his right shoulder. Mottled and disfigured, it was covered with scars intersecting like a spider's web. More marks ran across his chest and ribs, prohibiting the growth of hair in places. He twisted his torso to show her a large, disfigured patch of injured flesh just above his trousers.
“The attack must have been thorough,” she whispered, stunned by what she saw. “Are you in any pain?”
“At times, but it's almost a phantom pain, pulsing with a memory of what it once was.”
She nodded, understanding. “Did it reach the muscle?”
“Some. I can't rotate my arm completely.”
“How can you shoot?”
“It's not bad now. I became proficient using my left arm, for many things.”
She swallowed down her reticence, and pulled the skirt to her waist along with the petticoat. Unable to look at Cale, she kept her gaze down. She brought the drawers as high as she could then rolled the stocking to the edge of her boot so that Cale could see her leg.
He shifted closer and brought a large hand to the side of her calf, causing an involuntary flinch from her.
“Easy.” He studied her leg in the firelight.
She tried to suppress her unease, but her body began to tremble. Shifting her focus to his close proximity, she studied his wide shoulders, noticing the sheen of sweat on his muscled arms. Despite his disfigurement, it was obvious he was a strong man. It both unnerved and drew her in.
He brought his other hand to her leg and the warmth of his touch spread across her skin. As he gently probed the long-healed injury, the shaking of her body increased. Her heart drummed swiftly in her chest, and she struggled to breathe.
Cale brought his gaze to hers, and for a moment their eyes locked. The sadness reflected back caught her unaware.
“Tess, I'm not going to hurt you.” He gently repositioned her stocking, then the pantalets, then the skirt, and scooted away from her. He donned his shirt.
Tension began to drain from her, replaced by a bone-draining exhaustion. “I know.” She’d barely gotten the words out.
“Your leg doesn't look that bad.” Using a stick, he pushed the burning fire around a bit.
Tess tried to suppress the tears, but one slid down her cheek. Thankfully, Cale pretended not to notice.
“The injury is much more than the leg,” she said thickly.
He did look at her now, but she kept her eyes on the flames before her.
“You can recover from that, too.”
She hung her head. “How?” The sob escaped before she could stop it.
“What do you dream about?”
She wiped at her face and frowned. “I'm not sure what you mean.”
“What do you normally dream about?”
“I dream of mi abuela.” She shifted her injured leg to a bent position. It was sore but this sometimes helped the pulsating pain to abate. “I dream of her a lot, actually. I also dream of Hank. Those are usually angry, or rather I'm very angry. I act the role of a shrew. And I dream of...Saul. I don't like those. I try not to remember them.”
“The Apache believe dreams are much more than just stories in our heads at night,” Cale said. “Actually, I've met many Indians—and some gringos—who believe the same. Within dreams we can sometimes make peace in a way we can't do in the waking world.”
“How would I do that?”
“Next time you're with Miller, try to move in the dream differently than you normally do. Try to be more decisive. Maybe fight back.”
Rage flared inside her in an instant. “I fought back.”
“No, that's not what I meant.” He held up his hand. “I'm sorry. I'm not insinuating anything. I just meant that slowly, while inside that dream, try to change the outcome.”
“But what would that do? Turn back time? Make it never happen?”
“No, of course not. But it will heal your spirit.” His gaze met hers. “It'll take time, but it can work.”
“Has this technique helped you?”
“It has.” Cale rubbed the back of his neck then rested an arm on a bent knee, releasing a frustrated sigh. “But some wounds are deep. They have to be peeled away layer by layer, much like an onion. I’m still working on mine, and I’ll admit that the remorse and the shame never quite disappear. But the memory doesn’t sting like a wasp anymore.
“How long do you want to keep suffering?” he continued, his voice sympathetic. “Months, years? You’re eighteen years old, Tess. You're a beautiful young woman with an injured leg, who's thinking of joining a convent so no man will never touch you again. If that's what you truly want, then so be it. But don't let that bastard take your entire life from you before you've had the chance to choose. And by bastard, I mean not just Saul, but Hank, too.”
“You speak about it like it's the easiest thing in the world.”
“Of course it's not easy. Life is a shithole sometimes.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry for the language, but I don't like seeing you recoil like a frightened animal.”
Shame flooded her from the trembling earlier.
Cale moved to her and gripped her shoulders. “You can overcome this. Not every man is out to hurt you.” He brought his hands to her face and cupped her cheeks.
She knew he would kiss her.
She wanted him to, but at the same time her body rebelled, so she closed her eyes.
“Go ahead,” she whispered.
She was surprised by the barest brush of his lips against hers. Slowly, he made more contact, kissing her gently, but with each pass he deepened the connection more. For Tess, it was achingly sweet, sweeter than she'd ever imagined. But her body shook, from head to toe, and her ragged breathing made it difficult for her to calm down, to enjoy her first, real kiss.
He settled in closer, kneeling before her. She kept her eyes shut as his thumb caressed her lower lip, as he nuzzled her cheek.
“Look at me, Tess.” Despite the demand, his voice was kind.
She opened her eyes. His face hovered close to hers, and a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. He only touched her face, nowhere else.
His blue eyes held desire, but he seemed in no hurry to move any faster.
Although he made a point to shave every few days, his newly-budding whiskers poked her. Despite his restraint, his mouth met hers with a growing hunger, stirring a longing that grew inside her abdomen. He tasted of coffee and the stew they’d just eaten, and she liked it.
His mouth retreated, but she moved forward and kissed him, not wanting the contact to stop. He responded, molding his lips over hers. Her hands grasped his wrists, wanting to touch him but hesitant to initiate more.
The kiss became more urgent, and when Tess opened her lips his tongue swept briefly inside, shocking her. She stilled.
He pulled back, but his face remained only inches from hers.
“You don't have to worry,” he said. “You can set the pace. You can always tell me to stop.”
She wanted to believe him. “Why would you do this when there are other women with far less difficulties?”
He grinned and leaned away. “None of ’em are you.”
She didn't know what to say.
Did he mean it? Did it matter if he didn't?
Perhaps she could learn to trust again, to decide if life in a convent was truly the best course of action.
Cale called to her like the magic in a story, giving hope in the words that weren't said. The taste of him lingered on her lips, and her body hummed with something other than panic.
“I have something that might help with the pain in your leg,” he said. She watched him retrieve two fist-sized stones from the fire by pushing them from the flames with a stick, then he placed them in an empty grain sack.
He came to her and crouched, and she wondered if he would kiss her again.
“I’m gonna put this around your knee,” he said. “Then you should try to get some sleep. The heat will help relax the muscles.”
She gave a brief nod when he paused for her permission. Lifting her skirt once again, he wrapped the sack and the hot stones around her damaged leg. She settled onto her pallet as he adjusted the bundle, then pulled the skirt back in place and settled a blanket atop her.
He retrieved a plain buckskin pouch from his belongings, opened it and coated a finger with the yellow substance inside.
“Open your mouth,” he instructed.
“What is that?”
“Ha-dintin. It’s tule pollen, and very sacred to the Apache. It’s also thought to aid in healing.”
She let him slide his finger along her tongue to deposit the substance. The dense powder left a slightly sweet taste.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead.
She grabbed his hand to keep him near. Impulsively, she lifted her head to bring her lips to his.
Despite the terror that pressed in on her, she wanted very much to show Cale that she welcomed his touch.
“I should’ve heated stones for you sooner,” he murmured against her mouth.
“Gracias,” she whispered.
“Sleep well, Tess. Let me guard the shadows for once.”
He slept near to her, and she was glad for his company.
Copyright © 2015 K. McCaffrey LLC
Historical Western Romance
Rating: Steamy
Kindle
Smashwords
***The links for Nook, iTunes and Kobo should be live in a few days.
Arizona Territory 1877
Bounty hunter Cale Walker arrives in Tucson to search for J. Howard “Hank” Carlisle at the request of his daughter, Tess. Hank mentored Cale before a falling out divided them, and a mountain lion attack left Cale nearly dead. Rescued by a band of Nednai Apache, his wounds were considered a powerful omen and he was taught the ways of a di-yin, or a medicine man. To locate Hank, Cale must enter the Dragoon Mountains, straddling two worlds that no longer fit. But he has an even bigger problem—finding a way into the heart of a young woman determined to live life as a bystander.
For two years, Tess Carlisle has tried to heal the mental and physical wounds of a deadly assault by one of her papá’s men. Continuing the traditions of her Mexican heritage, she has honed her skills as a cuentista, a storyteller and a Keeper of the Old Ways. But with no contact from her father since the attack, she fears the worst. Tess knows that to reenter Hank Carlisle’s world is a dangerous endeavor, and her only hope is Cale Walker, a man unlike any she has ever known. Determined to make a journey that could lead straight into the path of her attacker, she hardens her resolve along with her heart. But Cale makes her yearn for something she vowed she never would—love.
First Kiss Excerpt
After they ate and cleaned up, Tess excused herself and went behind the mesquite for privacy, limping but determined to not use her cane. After attending to personal matters, she paused to watch the still nearly-full moon shining brightly in the starry sky. The horses snorted nearby, and she went to them for a brief visit. Gideon happily greeted her with a nudge, and to Tess’s surprise, so did Bo.
She reveled in the affection of the two boys, but when she moved to Moses he rebuffed her, which also made her smile.
“I can respect that,” she whispered.
As she walked back toward Cale and the fire, her foot caught on a rock and she tripped. Falling to the side, she landed hard against a boulder with her injured leg. She must have screamed because Cale appeared within seconds.
“What happened?” he asked. “I was getting concerned when you didn’t return.”
“Nothing.” Hating her weakness, she tried to push his hands away and stand, but her leg gave out. He caught her and held her upright. “I just fell, that's all. I'll be fine. Just give me a moment.”
Cale lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the fire. He settled her atop her pallet and knelt before her. “Tess, will you let me have a look at it?”
Panic swept her. “No.”
“What are you afraid of? That I haven't seen anything so hideous before?”
A response clogged her throat.
He removed his vest, then began unbuttoning the placket on his blue chambray shirt. Alarm snaked down her spine. “What...what are you...”
“I want to show you my injury.”
“Oh.” She really couldn't reconcile her ambivalence. On the one hand, any overture by a man that came close to indicating sexual contact set her heart to pounding and filled her with an overwhelming urge to flee. On the other, slivers of curiosity sometimes whispered in her ear, of what it could be like with a man who cared, of what hidden magic such contact could hold. She carried many stories in her repertoire, and there had been those of wild, desperate longings between a man and a woman, of a love so fierce it changed the world. Could those tales be believed? What would it be like to love a man such as Cale?
He pulled his shirt over his head, and shifted to face her better. Her eyes settled onto his right shoulder. Mottled and disfigured, it was covered with scars intersecting like a spider's web. More marks ran across his chest and ribs, prohibiting the growth of hair in places. He twisted his torso to show her a large, disfigured patch of injured flesh just above his trousers.
“The attack must have been thorough,” she whispered, stunned by what she saw. “Are you in any pain?”
“At times, but it's almost a phantom pain, pulsing with a memory of what it once was.”
She nodded, understanding. “Did it reach the muscle?”
“Some. I can't rotate my arm completely.”
“How can you shoot?”
“It's not bad now. I became proficient using my left arm, for many things.”
She swallowed down her reticence, and pulled the skirt to her waist along with the petticoat. Unable to look at Cale, she kept her gaze down. She brought the drawers as high as she could then rolled the stocking to the edge of her boot so that Cale could see her leg.
He shifted closer and brought a large hand to the side of her calf, causing an involuntary flinch from her.
“Easy.” He studied her leg in the firelight.
She tried to suppress her unease, but her body began to tremble. Shifting her focus to his close proximity, she studied his wide shoulders, noticing the sheen of sweat on his muscled arms. Despite his disfigurement, it was obvious he was a strong man. It both unnerved and drew her in.
He brought his other hand to her leg and the warmth of his touch spread across her skin. As he gently probed the long-healed injury, the shaking of her body increased. Her heart drummed swiftly in her chest, and she struggled to breathe.
Cale brought his gaze to hers, and for a moment their eyes locked. The sadness reflected back caught her unaware.
“Tess, I'm not going to hurt you.” He gently repositioned her stocking, then the pantalets, then the skirt, and scooted away from her. He donned his shirt.
Tension began to drain from her, replaced by a bone-draining exhaustion. “I know.” She’d barely gotten the words out.
“Your leg doesn't look that bad.” Using a stick, he pushed the burning fire around a bit.
Tess tried to suppress the tears, but one slid down her cheek. Thankfully, Cale pretended not to notice.
“The injury is much more than the leg,” she said thickly.
He did look at her now, but she kept her eyes on the flames before her.
“You can recover from that, too.”
She hung her head. “How?” The sob escaped before she could stop it.
“What do you dream about?”
She wiped at her face and frowned. “I'm not sure what you mean.”
“What do you normally dream about?”
“I dream of mi abuela.” She shifted her injured leg to a bent position. It was sore but this sometimes helped the pulsating pain to abate. “I dream of her a lot, actually. I also dream of Hank. Those are usually angry, or rather I'm very angry. I act the role of a shrew. And I dream of...Saul. I don't like those. I try not to remember them.”
“The Apache believe dreams are much more than just stories in our heads at night,” Cale said. “Actually, I've met many Indians—and some gringos—who believe the same. Within dreams we can sometimes make peace in a way we can't do in the waking world.”
“How would I do that?”
“Next time you're with Miller, try to move in the dream differently than you normally do. Try to be more decisive. Maybe fight back.”
Rage flared inside her in an instant. “I fought back.”
“No, that's not what I meant.” He held up his hand. “I'm sorry. I'm not insinuating anything. I just meant that slowly, while inside that dream, try to change the outcome.”
“But what would that do? Turn back time? Make it never happen?”
“No, of course not. But it will heal your spirit.” His gaze met hers. “It'll take time, but it can work.”
“Has this technique helped you?”
“It has.” Cale rubbed the back of his neck then rested an arm on a bent knee, releasing a frustrated sigh. “But some wounds are deep. They have to be peeled away layer by layer, much like an onion. I’m still working on mine, and I’ll admit that the remorse and the shame never quite disappear. But the memory doesn’t sting like a wasp anymore.
“How long do you want to keep suffering?” he continued, his voice sympathetic. “Months, years? You’re eighteen years old, Tess. You're a beautiful young woman with an injured leg, who's thinking of joining a convent so no man will never touch you again. If that's what you truly want, then so be it. But don't let that bastard take your entire life from you before you've had the chance to choose. And by bastard, I mean not just Saul, but Hank, too.”
“You speak about it like it's the easiest thing in the world.”
“Of course it's not easy. Life is a shithole sometimes.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry for the language, but I don't like seeing you recoil like a frightened animal.”
Shame flooded her from the trembling earlier.
Cale moved to her and gripped her shoulders. “You can overcome this. Not every man is out to hurt you.” He brought his hands to her face and cupped her cheeks.
She knew he would kiss her.
She wanted him to, but at the same time her body rebelled, so she closed her eyes.
“Go ahead,” she whispered.
She was surprised by the barest brush of his lips against hers. Slowly, he made more contact, kissing her gently, but with each pass he deepened the connection more. For Tess, it was achingly sweet, sweeter than she'd ever imagined. But her body shook, from head to toe, and her ragged breathing made it difficult for her to calm down, to enjoy her first, real kiss.
He settled in closer, kneeling before her. She kept her eyes shut as his thumb caressed her lower lip, as he nuzzled her cheek.
“Look at me, Tess.” Despite the demand, his voice was kind.
She opened her eyes. His face hovered close to hers, and a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. He only touched her face, nowhere else.
His blue eyes held desire, but he seemed in no hurry to move any faster.
Although he made a point to shave every few days, his newly-budding whiskers poked her. Despite his restraint, his mouth met hers with a growing hunger, stirring a longing that grew inside her abdomen. He tasted of coffee and the stew they’d just eaten, and she liked it.
His mouth retreated, but she moved forward and kissed him, not wanting the contact to stop. He responded, molding his lips over hers. Her hands grasped his wrists, wanting to touch him but hesitant to initiate more.
The kiss became more urgent, and when Tess opened her lips his tongue swept briefly inside, shocking her. She stilled.
He pulled back, but his face remained only inches from hers.
“You don't have to worry,” he said. “You can set the pace. You can always tell me to stop.”
She wanted to believe him. “Why would you do this when there are other women with far less difficulties?”
He grinned and leaned away. “None of ’em are you.”
She didn't know what to say.
Did he mean it? Did it matter if he didn't?
Perhaps she could learn to trust again, to decide if life in a convent was truly the best course of action.
Cale called to her like the magic in a story, giving hope in the words that weren't said. The taste of him lingered on her lips, and her body hummed with something other than panic.
“I have something that might help with the pain in your leg,” he said. She watched him retrieve two fist-sized stones from the fire by pushing them from the flames with a stick, then he placed them in an empty grain sack.
He came to her and crouched, and she wondered if he would kiss her again.
“I’m gonna put this around your knee,” he said. “Then you should try to get some sleep. The heat will help relax the muscles.”
She gave a brief nod when he paused for her permission. Lifting her skirt once again, he wrapped the sack and the hot stones around her damaged leg. She settled onto her pallet as he adjusted the bundle, then pulled the skirt back in place and settled a blanket atop her.
He retrieved a plain buckskin pouch from his belongings, opened it and coated a finger with the yellow substance inside.
“Open your mouth,” he instructed.
“What is that?”
“Ha-dintin. It’s tule pollen, and very sacred to the Apache. It’s also thought to aid in healing.”
She let him slide his finger along her tongue to deposit the substance. The dense powder left a slightly sweet taste.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead.
She grabbed his hand to keep him near. Impulsively, she lifted her head to bring her lips to his.
Despite the terror that pressed in on her, she wanted very much to show Cale that she welcomed his touch.
“I should’ve heated stones for you sooner,” he murmured against her mouth.
“Gracias,” she whispered.
“Sleep well, Tess. Let me guard the shadows for once.”
He slept near to her, and she was glad for his company.
Copyright © 2015 K. McCaffrey LLC
The Blackbird is FREE until Oct. 24.
~ Special Promotion ~
Download THE BLACKBIRD FREE October 20-24th!!
Amazon
Haunted by a deadly attack, Tess Carlisle turns to bounty hunter Cale Walker to find her missing padre. But in the land of the Apache, can he free her heart?
2015 Laramie Winner for Best in Western Romance
Download THE BLACKBIRD FREE October 20-24th!!
Amazon
Haunted by a deadly attack, Tess Carlisle turns to bounty hunter Cale Walker to find her missing padre. But in the land of the Apache, can he free her heart?
2015 Laramie Winner for Best in Western Romance
Release Day ~ THE BLUEBIRD
By Kristy McCaffrey
I'm thrilled to announce THE BLUEBIRD, Wings of the West Book 5, is now available.
Amazon
FREE in Kindle Unlimited.
Paperback copies coming shortly.
Molly Rose Simms departs the Arizona Territory, eager for adventure, and travels to Colorado to visit her brother. Robert left two years ago to make his fortune in the booming silver town of Creede, and now Molly Rose hopes to convince him to accompany her to San Francisco, New York City, or even Europe. But Robert is nowhere to be found. All Molly Rose finds is his partner, a mysterious man known as The Jackal.
Jake McKenna has traveled the bustling streets of Istanbul, exotic ports in China, and the deserts of Morocco. His restless desire to explore has been the only constant in his life. When his search for the elusive and mythical Bluebird mining claim lands him a new partner, he must decide how far he’ll go to protect the stunning young woman who’s clearly in over her head. A home and hearth has never been on The Jackal’s agenda, but Molly Rose Simms is about to change his world in every conceivable way.
A sensuous historical western romance set in 1892 Colorado.
Excerpt
“Aren’t you cold?”
Molly jumped at the sound of Jake’s voice, holding the goblet away from her gown so the fluid didn’t spill. “A little.”
He strode toward her, removed his jacket, then placed it onto her shoulders.
Immediately she was engulfed in McKenna’s smell—musky and wild and distinctive. “Thank you.” A wave of longing swept through her, primal and fierce. It was as if she were a coyote who’d just caught the scent of her mate…or a jackal.
He sat beside her although the post holding the railing divided them. His white shirt all but glowed in the dark night that embraced them. He loosened his tie and undid the top button.
Molly watched from the corner of her eye, trying not to stare.
How could she even consider some boy named Carl when she’d already met a man like Jake?
She took another gulp of wine and stared straight ahead. Had Esme spoken the truth? Was Jake courting her?
“Go easy,” Jake said, his voice a caress in the night air.
“Why?”
“Because you’ll regret it tomorrow.”
She considered his advice then stared at the corral. “Did you tell Esme Patterson that you kissed me?”
“No. Is she spreading rumors?”
His voice sounded amused, which emboldened Molly to move forward. Or was it the alcohol? “There seems to be talk that you…and I…that we…”
She glanced at him, and his tenacious gaze caught her attention. She couldn’t look away.
“That we what?” His voice, deep and hypnotic, washed over her like a warm rainstorm.
She shook her head, suddenly bashful. “Never mind.” She was being silly. Jake McKenna wasn’t courting her. She needed to remember his reputation. Swallowing another sip of wine, she forged ahead. “You apparently have the distinction of being a scamp around these parts. I was cautioned to avoid you, by more than one woman, I should add.”
“I’m a what? A scamp? That’s a new one.” Shaking his head, he chuckled. “What do you think, Molly Rose?”
“I don’t think anything. I don’t know you.”
“Don’t you?”
Confused, she reiterated, “No, I don’t. Isn’t that what I just said?” Her muddled thoughts swirled in her head. Damn the wine.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know.”
“I’m not.”
He grinned. “I spent some time in Istanbul, and while I was there, I studied a poet and philosopher named Rumi. He was a great observer of life, of how important the smallest thing can be. What you seek is seeking you.”
She watched him, perplexed.
“Maybe we’ve been searching for each other,” he added.
She laughed, but it was more of a snort. Embarrassed, she straightened, trying to sound indifferent as she asked, “Is this how you sweet-talk women?”
“No. Just you.”
“I think I’ve had too much to drink.”
He reached over and took the goblet from her. His fingers brushed hers, sending a shiver through her, and, for a moment, she thought he might kiss her again. Did she just swoon toward him?
As he downed the remainder of the liquid, she stared at his mouth. “How did you get away from Winston?”
“I’m The Jackal.”
A smile stretched clear across her face before she could rein it in. “You’re full of bluster, just like every other man.”
His expression sobered. “And how many men have you known?”
“Some. A few.” She nodded. “Some. Beatrice Perkins has me all but engaged to her son Carl.”
Jake’s eyes narrowed. He tensed and turned his face from her. She didn’t like it. Had she offended him? She lifted her hand to touch his arm, but when he swung his gaze back to her, she hid the gesture by pretending to swat at a nonexistent fly.
“I want to check out the Chigger. Since you’re my partner, do you want to come?”
She giggled. Heavens, she needed to curb her drinking. “How scandalous. You’d really let me go with you?” Don’t sound so eager, Molly. Act like a woman. She sought to compose herself.
“Yes. You can stay with Ivan and Pearl Krupin. They have a place in the hills.”
“Where will you be?”
“I’ll use the Krupin’s place as a base to go scouting. I’ll see you every night.”
“Can I scout with you? Will you teach me?”
He nodded, his gaze softening. “Yes, I’ll teach you.”
Molly had the oddest feeling that they spoke of more than just prospecting. “Should I tell Robert?” she asked softly.
He hesitated. “Probably. He’ll worry if you don’t.”
“You think he’ll stop me?”
“I think you’re his sister, and he loves you very much. He’ll always have a need to keep you safe and sound.”
She considered the situation. “How long would we be gone?”
“Not more than a few days.”
“Alright. When do we leave?”
“I can get horses and supplies together tonight,” he said. “But I’m not sure how to get you out of this house.”
Archie came to mind. “I think I might have a way. I’ll meet you at the dip in the road beyond the entrance to the ranch.”
“When?”
“Before sunup,” she answered.
He nodded. “Should I ask how?”
“No.”
Jake’s body exuded warmth and Molly swayed. He was a heady combination of rugged male physique—broad shoulders, rolled sleeves revealing muscled forearms, a freshly-shaved chiseled jaw. She had to force herself not to reach out and touch the smooth skin of his cheek.
“You’re not that irresistible.” Had she just uttered the words aloud?
He grinned. “Are you sure about that?”
No. I’m not sure at all. “Why did you kiss me in the tunnel?”
The amusement left his eyes, replaced by a penetrating gaze that awakened an ancient feminine part of herself, always present but never acknowledged. Until now. Until Jake. The Jackal.
“Because I wanted to.”
Copyright © 2016 K. McCaffrey LLC
*************************
I'm pleased to share that all the books in my Wings series are now available in print.
The Wren
The Dove
The Sparrow
The Blackbird
The Bluebird (coming)
I'm giving away two autographed sets of the series at my Facebook page. Be sure to enter!! If you'd like an autographed set at a reduced price, contact me directly at kristy@kristymccaffrey.com.
**********************
Connect with Kristy
Website
Facebook
Twitter
Blog ~ Pathways
Newsletter
I'm thrilled to announce THE BLUEBIRD, Wings of the West Book 5, is now available.
Amazon
FREE in Kindle Unlimited.
Paperback copies coming shortly.
Molly Rose Simms departs the Arizona Territory, eager for adventure, and travels to Colorado to visit her brother. Robert left two years ago to make his fortune in the booming silver town of Creede, and now Molly Rose hopes to convince him to accompany her to San Francisco, New York City, or even Europe. But Robert is nowhere to be found. All Molly Rose finds is his partner, a mysterious man known as The Jackal.
Jake McKenna has traveled the bustling streets of Istanbul, exotic ports in China, and the deserts of Morocco. His restless desire to explore has been the only constant in his life. When his search for the elusive and mythical Bluebird mining claim lands him a new partner, he must decide how far he’ll go to protect the stunning young woman who’s clearly in over her head. A home and hearth has never been on The Jackal’s agenda, but Molly Rose Simms is about to change his world in every conceivable way.
A sensuous historical western romance set in 1892 Colorado.
Excerpt
“Aren’t you cold?”
Molly jumped at the sound of Jake’s voice, holding the goblet away from her gown so the fluid didn’t spill. “A little.”
He strode toward her, removed his jacket, then placed it onto her shoulders.
Immediately she was engulfed in McKenna’s smell—musky and wild and distinctive. “Thank you.” A wave of longing swept through her, primal and fierce. It was as if she were a coyote who’d just caught the scent of her mate…or a jackal.
He sat beside her although the post holding the railing divided them. His white shirt all but glowed in the dark night that embraced them. He loosened his tie and undid the top button.
Molly watched from the corner of her eye, trying not to stare.
How could she even consider some boy named Carl when she’d already met a man like Jake?
She took another gulp of wine and stared straight ahead. Had Esme spoken the truth? Was Jake courting her?
“Go easy,” Jake said, his voice a caress in the night air.
“Why?”
“Because you’ll regret it tomorrow.”
She considered his advice then stared at the corral. “Did you tell Esme Patterson that you kissed me?”
“No. Is she spreading rumors?”
His voice sounded amused, which emboldened Molly to move forward. Or was it the alcohol? “There seems to be talk that you…and I…that we…”
She glanced at him, and his tenacious gaze caught her attention. She couldn’t look away.
“That we what?” His voice, deep and hypnotic, washed over her like a warm rainstorm.
She shook her head, suddenly bashful. “Never mind.” She was being silly. Jake McKenna wasn’t courting her. She needed to remember his reputation. Swallowing another sip of wine, she forged ahead. “You apparently have the distinction of being a scamp around these parts. I was cautioned to avoid you, by more than one woman, I should add.”
“I’m a what? A scamp? That’s a new one.” Shaking his head, he chuckled. “What do you think, Molly Rose?”
“I don’t think anything. I don’t know you.”
“Don’t you?”
Confused, she reiterated, “No, I don’t. Isn’t that what I just said?” Her muddled thoughts swirled in her head. Damn the wine.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know.”
“I’m not.”
He grinned. “I spent some time in Istanbul, and while I was there, I studied a poet and philosopher named Rumi. He was a great observer of life, of how important the smallest thing can be. What you seek is seeking you.”
She watched him, perplexed.
“Maybe we’ve been searching for each other,” he added.
She laughed, but it was more of a snort. Embarrassed, she straightened, trying to sound indifferent as she asked, “Is this how you sweet-talk women?”
“No. Just you.”
“I think I’ve had too much to drink.”
He reached over and took the goblet from her. His fingers brushed hers, sending a shiver through her, and, for a moment, she thought he might kiss her again. Did she just swoon toward him?
As he downed the remainder of the liquid, she stared at his mouth. “How did you get away from Winston?”
“I’m The Jackal.”
A smile stretched clear across her face before she could rein it in. “You’re full of bluster, just like every other man.”
His expression sobered. “And how many men have you known?”
“Some. A few.” She nodded. “Some. Beatrice Perkins has me all but engaged to her son Carl.”
Jake’s eyes narrowed. He tensed and turned his face from her. She didn’t like it. Had she offended him? She lifted her hand to touch his arm, but when he swung his gaze back to her, she hid the gesture by pretending to swat at a nonexistent fly.
“I want to check out the Chigger. Since you’re my partner, do you want to come?”
She giggled. Heavens, she needed to curb her drinking. “How scandalous. You’d really let me go with you?” Don’t sound so eager, Molly. Act like a woman. She sought to compose herself.
“Yes. You can stay with Ivan and Pearl Krupin. They have a place in the hills.”
“Where will you be?”
“I’ll use the Krupin’s place as a base to go scouting. I’ll see you every night.”
“Can I scout with you? Will you teach me?”
He nodded, his gaze softening. “Yes, I’ll teach you.”
Molly had the oddest feeling that they spoke of more than just prospecting. “Should I tell Robert?” she asked softly.
He hesitated. “Probably. He’ll worry if you don’t.”
“You think he’ll stop me?”
“I think you’re his sister, and he loves you very much. He’ll always have a need to keep you safe and sound.”
She considered the situation. “How long would we be gone?”
“Not more than a few days.”
“Alright. When do we leave?”
“I can get horses and supplies together tonight,” he said. “But I’m not sure how to get you out of this house.”
Archie came to mind. “I think I might have a way. I’ll meet you at the dip in the road beyond the entrance to the ranch.”
“When?”
“Before sunup,” she answered.
He nodded. “Should I ask how?”
“No.”
Jake’s body exuded warmth and Molly swayed. He was a heady combination of rugged male physique—broad shoulders, rolled sleeves revealing muscled forearms, a freshly-shaved chiseled jaw. She had to force herself not to reach out and touch the smooth skin of his cheek.
“You’re not that irresistible.” Had she just uttered the words aloud?
He grinned. “Are you sure about that?”
No. I’m not sure at all. “Why did you kiss me in the tunnel?”
The amusement left his eyes, replaced by a penetrating gaze that awakened an ancient feminine part of herself, always present but never acknowledged. Until now. Until Jake. The Jackal.
“Because I wanted to.”
Copyright © 2016 K. McCaffrey LLC
*************************
I'm pleased to share that all the books in my Wings series are now available in print.
The Wren
The Dove
The Sparrow
The Blackbird
The Bluebird (coming)
I'm giving away two autographed sets of the series at my Facebook page. Be sure to enter!! If you'd like an autographed set at a reduced price, contact me directly at kristy@kristymccaffrey.com.
**********************
Connect with Kristy
Website
Blog ~ Pathways
Newsletter
A Westward Adventure by Kristy McCaffrey - February #blogabookscene #PrairieRosePub @PrairieRosePub
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 #PrairieRosePub.
The theme for February is ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE. The following is an excerpt from my short novella A Westward Adventure, a sweet historical western romance.
Excerpt
In near darkness, Amelia washed Riggs in a tub of water behind Aunt Teddy's house. The dog was uncommonly good-mannered about it, panting in happiness and swinging his head to her every few seconds to plant a wet kiss on her face. Her dress was soaked as she scrubbed the dog's fur.
Aunt Teddy wasn't put out by the arrival of Riggs, of which Amelia was glad. Her aunt had told Ned that he needed a dog if he planned to live in the Parker house all by himself. Amelia couldn't help but feel that Teddy wasn't just talking about a pet, but about the fact that Ned needed a wife, too.
"What's that smell?" Ned's voice startled Amelia from her thoughts. "Are you drinking?"
"No." She scooped water with a bucket and dumped it over Riggs. "I'm washing him with rum."
"What on earth for?"
"It's wonderful for cleansing the hair--I've used it myself--and it can defer disease. Riggs was filthy, and I'd wager housing unwanted critters in his fur."
"Smart, except he'll smell like he was just at Laramy's. I'll bet he needs a double-washing."
"He's certainly dirty, but he's a happy fella." She let Riggs lick her face. "And maybe just a bit into his cups."
"Where'd you get the rum?"
"Teddy had a bottle and said I could use it."
"Do you need help?"
"No. I'm almost done." It's now or never. She shored up her courage, since she had no idea if Ned would be here come morning. "Ned, I wondered if I might ask you something." She became breathless as her nerves kicked up a notch.
"Sure."
She cleared her throat and was glad for the darkness that blanketed them. From where he stood on the back porch, he couldn't see her hands shake. Setting down the bucket, she buried them into Riggs' wet, liquor-infused fur. "I wondered if, well, I wanted to ask you if, well...if you happened to be looking for companionship, then I'd be interested."
"I beg pardon?" He sounded confused, but it was too late to turn back now.
"I like you, Ned. You're very handsome, and I'm impressed by your rugged occupation. I don't think I'm a bad-looking woman, and I'm seeking the company of a man." She chanced a glance at him and even in the darkness she felt his stillness, his rapt attention on her words. She really had no idea how this was going.
"You want me to court you?" he asked.
"Well, that would be nice of you, but that's not necessary. I'm willing...to be your woman without it."
He slowly took the steps and came to the tub. Riggs wagged his tail, sending water flying into Amelia's face. She stood, wiping her eyes, and hoped for a favorable reaction from Ned. Maybe he'd even kiss her. In hopeful anticipation, she waited.
"Amelia, I guess it's no secret what's between us. It's crept up rather fast, I'll admit. However, I never thought I'd say this, but I take offense by your assumption that all I'm good for is taking advantage of a woman, that I'd think nothing of ruining your reputation."
"But you're a renegade, you're a man who doesn't stay put anywhere. You ride with the wind."
He stood close enough that she could see his frown.
"I'll admit I haven't set down roots," he said, "but, as I told you, I'm changing that with my purchase of the Parker place. And, one of these days, I'm lookin' to get married."
"I don't want to get married."
"Well, good, 'cuz I'm not asking you."
"Oh." Now she felt foolish. "Well, of course."
"Why in tarnation are you throwing yourself at me?" he asked.
"I'm not. I just thought to speed up the romance. Isn't that what men like you expect?"
"You seem to think you know a lot about me." His voice held an edge of anger to it, fueling an equal indignation in herself. "Amelia, I think quite a lot of Teddy. I'd never dishonor her by taking up with her niece, treating you like nothing more than a lady at Laramy's."
Riggs jumped out of the tub and shook, forcing Amelia close to Ned. His hands settled on her shoulders. The dog began running around, spraying water in all directions. Amelia moved toward the mutt, but Ned held her in place and leaned his face near. She forgot to breathe, and knew she was in over her head. A man like Ned would likely overwhelm her.
His mouth came to hers in a gentle, yet firm, kiss, surprising her with its sweet restraint. His warm hands left her shoulders and framed her face, and his mouth shifted as he tasted her, giving of himself while exploring her lips. She'd been kissed before, but never like this. Maybe it was the fresh mountain air and the pine trees, or the wide blue skies and simple life so close to Mother Earth, but Ned's gesture intoxicated her, evoking freedom and passion and an unnamed yearning. She'd felt it when she made it past the Mississippi River on her journey here, and it flooded her now.
She sank into him and rose on her toes, a hunger unleashed for more.
Ned broke the kiss. "Amelia, you're a beautiful woman, and you should know that I want you. But I won't bed you unless you marry me."
"We hardly know each other."
"And yet you propose we become lovers?"
"Isn't that what independent-minded women do?" He released her, and she immediately missed his touch.
"I wouldn't know about that," he said. "Don't you want to marry one day? Surely you had opportunities back in New York."
"Yes." She attempted to compose herself. Riggs had run off. She needed to go after him. "But I don't want to be tied down. Aunt Teddy isn't. I plan to live like her."
"Sounds lonely."
"It doesn't have to be, and I thought you didn't want to marry me."
"I didn't think one kiss would change that, but it has."
Amelia started to speak but couldn't think of a response because he was right. His kiss had altered something, but she didn't have the peace of mind to sort it all out at the moment.
"I have to find Riggs," she said.
"I'll get the dog. Then, starting tomorrow, I'm gonna court you, Amelia Mercer."
"Why?"
"Because, if I don't, then you might throw yourself at some other fella."
She let out a snort of amusement. "Then you haven't looked in a mirror lately."
An amused gleam reached his eyes. He bent near again. "I think what we have here is love at first sight."
"That's ridiculous. It doesn't exist."
"I'll remind you of this conversation on our fiftieth wedding anniversary."
"You're a wild ruffian of the west. Men like you don't settle down." Why was he acting like this? He was ruining the image of the hero in her novel.
"Maybe not. But then I laid eyes on you."
"What does that have to do with it? Surely I'm not the first woman you've met."
"No. That's true." He gave a peck to her cheek and grinned at her as departed to find Riggs. "But I think you're gonna be the last."
She watched him disappear into the dark and tried to fathom what had just occurred. The conversation had gone nothing like she'd planned.
Copyright © 2015 K. McCaffrey LLC
A Westward Adventure is available as a single-sell short e-novella for 99 cents.
AMAZON
The story is also included in the western romance anthology Cowboy Kisses (digital and print).
AMAZON
Both books can be found in the Kindle Unlimited program.
*************
Connect with Kristy
Website
Facebook
Twitter
Blog ~ Pathways
Newsletter
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 #PrairieRosePub.
The theme for February is ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE. The following is an excerpt from my short novella A Westward Adventure, a sweet historical western romance.
Excerpt
In near darkness, Amelia washed Riggs in a tub of water behind Aunt Teddy's house. The dog was uncommonly good-mannered about it, panting in happiness and swinging his head to her every few seconds to plant a wet kiss on her face. Her dress was soaked as she scrubbed the dog's fur.
Aunt Teddy wasn't put out by the arrival of Riggs, of which Amelia was glad. Her aunt had told Ned that he needed a dog if he planned to live in the Parker house all by himself. Amelia couldn't help but feel that Teddy wasn't just talking about a pet, but about the fact that Ned needed a wife, too.
"What's that smell?" Ned's voice startled Amelia from her thoughts. "Are you drinking?"
"No." She scooped water with a bucket and dumped it over Riggs. "I'm washing him with rum."
"What on earth for?"
"It's wonderful for cleansing the hair--I've used it myself--and it can defer disease. Riggs was filthy, and I'd wager housing unwanted critters in his fur."
"Smart, except he'll smell like he was just at Laramy's. I'll bet he needs a double-washing."
"He's certainly dirty, but he's a happy fella." She let Riggs lick her face. "And maybe just a bit into his cups."
"Where'd you get the rum?"
"Teddy had a bottle and said I could use it."
"Do you need help?"
"No. I'm almost done." It's now or never. She shored up her courage, since she had no idea if Ned would be here come morning. "Ned, I wondered if I might ask you something." She became breathless as her nerves kicked up a notch.
"Sure."
She cleared her throat and was glad for the darkness that blanketed them. From where he stood on the back porch, he couldn't see her hands shake. Setting down the bucket, she buried them into Riggs' wet, liquor-infused fur. "I wondered if, well, I wanted to ask you if, well...if you happened to be looking for companionship, then I'd be interested."
"I beg pardon?" He sounded confused, but it was too late to turn back now.
"I like you, Ned. You're very handsome, and I'm impressed by your rugged occupation. I don't think I'm a bad-looking woman, and I'm seeking the company of a man." She chanced a glance at him and even in the darkness she felt his stillness, his rapt attention on her words. She really had no idea how this was going.
"You want me to court you?" he asked.
"Well, that would be nice of you, but that's not necessary. I'm willing...to be your woman without it."
He slowly took the steps and came to the tub. Riggs wagged his tail, sending water flying into Amelia's face. She stood, wiping her eyes, and hoped for a favorable reaction from Ned. Maybe he'd even kiss her. In hopeful anticipation, she waited.
"Amelia, I guess it's no secret what's between us. It's crept up rather fast, I'll admit. However, I never thought I'd say this, but I take offense by your assumption that all I'm good for is taking advantage of a woman, that I'd think nothing of ruining your reputation."
"But you're a renegade, you're a man who doesn't stay put anywhere. You ride with the wind."
He stood close enough that she could see his frown.
"I'll admit I haven't set down roots," he said, "but, as I told you, I'm changing that with my purchase of the Parker place. And, one of these days, I'm lookin' to get married."
"I don't want to get married."
"Well, good, 'cuz I'm not asking you."
"Oh." Now she felt foolish. "Well, of course."
"Why in tarnation are you throwing yourself at me?" he asked.
"I'm not. I just thought to speed up the romance. Isn't that what men like you expect?"
"You seem to think you know a lot about me." His voice held an edge of anger to it, fueling an equal indignation in herself. "Amelia, I think quite a lot of Teddy. I'd never dishonor her by taking up with her niece, treating you like nothing more than a lady at Laramy's."
Riggs jumped out of the tub and shook, forcing Amelia close to Ned. His hands settled on her shoulders. The dog began running around, spraying water in all directions. Amelia moved toward the mutt, but Ned held her in place and leaned his face near. She forgot to breathe, and knew she was in over her head. A man like Ned would likely overwhelm her.
His mouth came to hers in a gentle, yet firm, kiss, surprising her with its sweet restraint. His warm hands left her shoulders and framed her face, and his mouth shifted as he tasted her, giving of himself while exploring her lips. She'd been kissed before, but never like this. Maybe it was the fresh mountain air and the pine trees, or the wide blue skies and simple life so close to Mother Earth, but Ned's gesture intoxicated her, evoking freedom and passion and an unnamed yearning. She'd felt it when she made it past the Mississippi River on her journey here, and it flooded her now.
She sank into him and rose on her toes, a hunger unleashed for more.
Ned broke the kiss. "Amelia, you're a beautiful woman, and you should know that I want you. But I won't bed you unless you marry me."
"We hardly know each other."
"And yet you propose we become lovers?"
"Isn't that what independent-minded women do?" He released her, and she immediately missed his touch.
"I wouldn't know about that," he said. "Don't you want to marry one day? Surely you had opportunities back in New York."
"Yes." She attempted to compose herself. Riggs had run off. She needed to go after him. "But I don't want to be tied down. Aunt Teddy isn't. I plan to live like her."
"Sounds lonely."
"It doesn't have to be, and I thought you didn't want to marry me."
"I didn't think one kiss would change that, but it has."
Amelia started to speak but couldn't think of a response because he was right. His kiss had altered something, but she didn't have the peace of mind to sort it all out at the moment.
"I have to find Riggs," she said.
"I'll get the dog. Then, starting tomorrow, I'm gonna court you, Amelia Mercer."
"Why?"
"Because, if I don't, then you might throw yourself at some other fella."
She let out a snort of amusement. "Then you haven't looked in a mirror lately."
An amused gleam reached his eyes. He bent near again. "I think what we have here is love at first sight."
"That's ridiculous. It doesn't exist."
"I'll remind you of this conversation on our fiftieth wedding anniversary."
"You're a wild ruffian of the west. Men like you don't settle down." Why was he acting like this? He was ruining the image of the hero in her novel.
"Maybe not. But then I laid eyes on you."
"What does that have to do with it? Surely I'm not the first woman you've met."
"No. That's true." He gave a peck to her cheek and grinned at her as departed to find Riggs. "But I think you're gonna be the last."
She watched him disappear into the dark and tried to fathom what had just occurred. The conversation had gone nothing like she'd planned.
Copyright © 2015 K. McCaffrey LLC
A Westward Adventure is available as a single-sell short e-novella for 99 cents.
AMAZON
The story is also included in the western romance anthology Cowboy Kisses (digital and print).
AMAZON
Both books can be found in the Kindle Unlimited program.
*************
Connect with Kristy
Website
Blog ~ Pathways
Newsletter
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.
Connect with Kristy
Website
Facebook
Twitter
Blog ~ Pathways
Newsletter
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.
Connect with Kristy
Website
Blog ~ Pathways
Newsletter
The Songbird is on Pre-Order
By Kristy McCaffrey
I'm so excited to announce a new story in the Wings of the West series. I wrote this novella for the fans, who have shown so much love for the series over the years. If you’ve ever wondered what life was like for Matt and Molly after THE WREN, then you won’t want to miss this fun read. (Although they do appear in the short story ECHO OF THE PLAINS, which takes place after THE SONGBIRD.)
This novella serves two purposes – a reunion with fave characters from the series, as well as acting as a bridge to the next set of Wings novels, which will star the daughters of Matt and Molly, and Logan and Claire (from THE DOVE). Keep reading to learn the name of the next novel!
The release date for THE SONGBIRD is December 28, 2021, which also happens to be my 30th wedding anniversary.
Here’s the official book blurb:
Join characters from the Wings of the West series in this novella set fifteen years after THE WREN.
A fair in Denton, Texas, draws folks from far and wide, and Matt and Molly Ryan have come to close a horse deal while also enjoying a bit of rest and relaxation. It’s a family affair with Matt’s brother, Logan, and his wife, Claire, joining them, as well as Nathan and Emma Blackmore, and Cale and Tess Walker.
Meet the daughters of the second generation—Katie and Josie Ryan, belonging to Matt and Molly; and Anna, Sarah, and Sophie Ryan, Logan and Claire’s girls. Ranging in age from eleven to fourteen, they attempt to help a boy falsely accused of theft, but in doing so they uncover a deeper secret. And the connection may lead back to Molly’s time with the Kwahadi Comanche when she was a child.
Look for each of the girls to be featured in a future novel.
You can pre-order your copy now!! (Google Play is coming and the story will also be available in print.)
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Amazon CA
Amazon AU
Amazon DE (English Edition)
Nook
Apple Books
Kobo
Add it to your Goodreads shelf and be notified on release day.
Goodreads
The Wings of the West Series Reading Order
Book One: The Wren
Book Two: The Dove
Book Three: The Sparrow
Book Four: The Blackbird
Book Five: The Bluebird
Book Six: The Songbird (Novella)
Book Seven: Echo of the Plains (Short Story)
Book Eight: The Starling (Coming Soon)
The cover reveal for THE STARLING will be in December for my newsletter subscribers. Sign up here if you haven't already. I'd love to see you there!
An excerpt from THE SONGBIRD
The look on Cale’s face told Matt there was more news.
“Do I have to drag it out of you?”
A smile came and went on Cale’s face. “I fear you’re gonna hate this rumor more than the previous one. McCabe wants to have supper with Molly.”
In disbelief, Matt said, “Does he want to court my wife? I damn well have something to say about that.”
“McCabe’s a prick. That’s no secret. But I think it has more to do with her time with the Comanche.”
That was something Matt preferred to keep private, if only to protect her. He and Molly had been married for fifteen years, but he still couldn’t abide her past being the subject of gossip. However, in the years since she’d had their children, she had spoken on occasion with them of her abduction when she was nine years old, along with the ensuing years she had lived with the Comanche before being rescued by an old miner named Elijah, the very man for whom they had named their son. She was even teaching Katie to speak Comanche.
“It’s up to Molly whether she wants to discuss her past with him,” Matt said. “But I’ll be there if she does.”
Logan and Nathan appeared wearing chaps, their spurs clinking.
“When does the race start?” Cale asked. “Which one is it again?”
“The three-eighths-mile dash,” Logan said. “And it begins in an hour. The purse is up to $50. I hear the betting is favoring me.”
“That’s horseshit,” Nathan said. “If anything, it’s that pony over there getting all the interest.” He nodded toward a corral where an impressive mare pranced back and forth. The man who was watching the animal triggered recognition.
“Is that Bill Harner?” Matt asked.
Nathan looked closer. “I’ll be damned. I think it is.”
Logan pulled on his leather gloves. “Who’s that?”
“Back in ’75, he was on the Rangers with us,” Nathan replied, referring to his and Matt’s time with the Texas Rangers. “But he was just a youngster. That was right before I got Matt away from Cerillo. After that, I don’t know what happened to Bill.”
“Well, he’s standing beside McCabe,” Cale said.
Matt grimaced. “It’s almost enough to avoid Harner, but I’ll go and say hello.”
“We need to head over to the starting line,” Nathan said, his gaze encompassing Logan. “Wouldn’t want our winning boy to miss his moment of glory.”
“You’ll be eating my dust, Blackmore.”
“Good luck,” Matt said as the two of them departed. Matt headed in the opposite direction, but then stopped and turned back to Cale. “You coming? If McCabe starts gabbing like a hen about Molly, I’ll need your backup.”
Cale cocked an eyebrow. “You want me to hold your hand?”
“Like hell. I might need you to pull me off him if he pisses me off. Molly won’t take kindly to me sitting in a jail cell for disorderly conduct. She’s expecting me for supper.”
“Don’t worry. Sheriff Mars owes me a favor. You wouldn’t be in jail for long.”
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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