Kristy McCaffrey's Blog: Author Kristy McCaffrey - Posts Tagged "the-blackbird"
Evolution Of A Novel
By Kristy McCaffrey
I’m in the process of readying my fifth novel for release. While I would love to say that I know the ins-and-outs of this writing thing, I can’t. Each book I’ve penned presents its own challenges, and with each I was at a different stage of my composition skills.
This is the first book that I’ve written fast. I’ve always called myself a slow writer because I was. Toiling away with a small press meant no real deadlines, so I never gave myself any either. I wrote to my creative whims. If I came to a crossroads in a story and was unsure of the direction, I easily took a three month break to await inspiration. As you can imagine, it took me years to write my first four books.
An important aspect of this slowness concerned my writing confidence. While I can’t say I’m super-assured at this point, I did make a deliberate effort to improve my skills, to network with other writers who could help me, to read more, and to look up grammar issues to make sure I was getting it right. I also had the opportunity to clean up my first three books to re-release them. That was an eye-opener. The sloppiness in prose jumped off the pages. I think the simple fact that I could recognize this helped me feel more convinced that my skills have improved (all cringing aside).
I wrote the first draft of THE BLACKBIRD (Book Four in my Wings of the West historical western romance series) in one push during the month of November. I participated in National Novel Writing Month, a worldwide endeavor to finish a novel in 30 days. I’d never done anything like it before, and I’d certainly never written so quickly. I was curious to try.
To ‘win’ the challenge, writers had to type out 50,000 words. This isn’t quite the length of a novel since most are around 70-80,000 words, but the goal was to get a decent outline completed. I quickly realized that to hit my daily word count of 2000 (I knew I’d have to take off Thanksgiving at the end of the month so I wrote more than the recommended 1667 words each day), I couldn’t move slowly or dawdle too much on my characters, or descriptions, or the plot. Some writers are pantsers, living in a world where ‘what will come will come’, but I wasn’t one of those. I had to discard all my carefully laid plans of meticulous research. This was especially grueling as I built three chapters around a fort in the Arizona Territory I wasn’t even certain existed.
It was a wild November (we writers do love the crazy), but I did it. And, I pushed to get to the end of the book. I did this by glossing over certain scenes, then moving on. I skipped descriptions—the hero carried a gun and rode a horse but I didn’t know what kind. I wrote hero’s backstory (with the Apache Indians) by using markers like ‘B Indian talks to C Indian from the D tribe’. But don’t get me wrong, I did do preliminary research in October to make sure I was heading generally in the right direction. There were, however, many details I simply didn’t have time to fact-check if I wanted to make my word count each day.
This type of intuitive writing is both exhilarating and scary. It can lead to serious misdirection, and hence much rewriting, but it also lets the plot breathe through the writer unfettered. I found hidden gems in the story I had no idea were present, such as what really happened to the heroine when she was assaulted two years prior. The twist really surprised me. But in the rough edges of this first draft I also found I needed additional time to find the best way to tie it all up, to cut away the fluff. This is where my best-laid plans suffered. I was unable to meet my March 2015 release date. I pushed it to April, and began worrying about whether I’d get it done by then, too.
By mid-March, I made it through a fairly thorough edit of the first draft, cleaning up and tying bows and ribbons wherever I could, but as I got near the end I found a major glitch. I needed a better motivation between the bad guy and the heroine’s father, a rather ambiguous character who I hadn’t decided was good OR bad. My husband offered to help. Over dinner, I explained the story—and many subplots. It was impressive that he didn’t doze off. Finally, his advice was to offer a simple explanation for why something had happened in the backstory. And he was right. When in doubt, take the most obvious, easiest solution because that will make the most sense. The key, of course, is not to reveal all this to the reader, doling it out throughout the story.
So, back to another editing pass. I’m just about complete with it, then it’ll go to the editor. Despite a deadline looming, this is really the most fun part of penning a novel, at least for me. It’s when the very finest of details are added, and it always feels like packing moist, sweet earth into the cracks of the world I’ve created.
Hang tight, readers. I’ll get this published by the end of April. Cheers!
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.
I’m in the process of readying my fifth novel for release. While I would love to say that I know the ins-and-outs of this writing thing, I can’t. Each book I’ve penned presents its own challenges, and with each I was at a different stage of my composition skills.
This is the first book that I’ve written fast. I’ve always called myself a slow writer because I was. Toiling away with a small press meant no real deadlines, so I never gave myself any either. I wrote to my creative whims. If I came to a crossroads in a story and was unsure of the direction, I easily took a three month break to await inspiration. As you can imagine, it took me years to write my first four books.
An important aspect of this slowness concerned my writing confidence. While I can’t say I’m super-assured at this point, I did make a deliberate effort to improve my skills, to network with other writers who could help me, to read more, and to look up grammar issues to make sure I was getting it right. I also had the opportunity to clean up my first three books to re-release them. That was an eye-opener. The sloppiness in prose jumped off the pages. I think the simple fact that I could recognize this helped me feel more convinced that my skills have improved (all cringing aside).
I wrote the first draft of THE BLACKBIRD (Book Four in my Wings of the West historical western romance series) in one push during the month of November. I participated in National Novel Writing Month, a worldwide endeavor to finish a novel in 30 days. I’d never done anything like it before, and I’d certainly never written so quickly. I was curious to try.
To ‘win’ the challenge, writers had to type out 50,000 words. This isn’t quite the length of a novel since most are around 70-80,000 words, but the goal was to get a decent outline completed. I quickly realized that to hit my daily word count of 2000 (I knew I’d have to take off Thanksgiving at the end of the month so I wrote more than the recommended 1667 words each day), I couldn’t move slowly or dawdle too much on my characters, or descriptions, or the plot. Some writers are pantsers, living in a world where ‘what will come will come’, but I wasn’t one of those. I had to discard all my carefully laid plans of meticulous research. This was especially grueling as I built three chapters around a fort in the Arizona Territory I wasn’t even certain existed.
It was a wild November (we writers do love the crazy), but I did it. And, I pushed to get to the end of the book. I did this by glossing over certain scenes, then moving on. I skipped descriptions—the hero carried a gun and rode a horse but I didn’t know what kind. I wrote hero’s backstory (with the Apache Indians) by using markers like ‘B Indian talks to C Indian from the D tribe’. But don’t get me wrong, I did do preliminary research in October to make sure I was heading generally in the right direction. There were, however, many details I simply didn’t have time to fact-check if I wanted to make my word count each day.
This type of intuitive writing is both exhilarating and scary. It can lead to serious misdirection, and hence much rewriting, but it also lets the plot breathe through the writer unfettered. I found hidden gems in the story I had no idea were present, such as what really happened to the heroine when she was assaulted two years prior. The twist really surprised me. But in the rough edges of this first draft I also found I needed additional time to find the best way to tie it all up, to cut away the fluff. This is where my best-laid plans suffered. I was unable to meet my March 2015 release date. I pushed it to April, and began worrying about whether I’d get it done by then, too.
By mid-March, I made it through a fairly thorough edit of the first draft, cleaning up and tying bows and ribbons wherever I could, but as I got near the end I found a major glitch. I needed a better motivation between the bad guy and the heroine’s father, a rather ambiguous character who I hadn’t decided was good OR bad. My husband offered to help. Over dinner, I explained the story—and many subplots. It was impressive that he didn’t doze off. Finally, his advice was to offer a simple explanation for why something had happened in the backstory. And he was right. When in doubt, take the most obvious, easiest solution because that will make the most sense. The key, of course, is not to reveal all this to the reader, doling it out throughout the story.
So, back to another editing pass. I’m just about complete with it, then it’ll go to the editor. Despite a deadline looming, this is really the most fun part of penning a novel, at least for me. It’s when the very finest of details are added, and it always feels like packing moist, sweet earth into the cracks of the world I’ve created.
Hang tight, readers. I’ll get this published by the end of April. Cheers!
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.
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
Naming A Series After Birds
By Kristy McCaffrey
I wrote my first novel, The Wren, more than ten years ago. I was a young stay-at-home mom with four kids all under the age of five running amuck. I'd been writing since I was seven years old, but I didn't envision penning a novel until I was too tired from mothering to realize that what I was about to attempt would be tremendously difficult, yet so rewarding. Not much different than becoming a mom, right?
I'm sometimes asked how I decided on the titles for my Wings of the West series. The simple version is that they just came to me, which for the most part is true. I've long known the titles, and the order in which they would appear, before I had a clear picture of characters and storylines—The Wren, The Dove, The Sparrow, The Blackbird, and the final installment, The Bluebird. But there are deeper meanings as well.
Many years ago I enjoyed a television show called "Ned Blessing: The Story of My Life and Times," starring Brad Johnson. Maybe some of you remember it. A recurring character was a woman in town—a soiled dove—who was secretly in love with Ned. She was called "the Wren." For some reason, that stuck with me when, years later, I began developing my Old West series. In my story, however, the heroine, Molly, isn't a prostitute (that theme is addressed in the next book, the aptly titled The Dove). As a child Molly is quite adept with a slingshot, which she's named "the Wren" because she believes that the rocks she uses may have been dropped by wrens. Rock Wrens have a habit of leaving a stone path to their nests. This encompasses the broader theme of Molly trying to find her way home after she was thought dead at the hands of the Comanche ten years prior.
A Rock Wren.
In the second book, The Dove, I dealt with the well-used theme of prostitution. The heroine in this story, 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?
In The Sparrow, my 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. I will admit, this novel took a strange turn, but I did my best to follow the bones laid before me and write the story as best I could. Sparrows are known as common birds who speak to the inherent magnificence that can be present in all of us. As I wrote the tale, I knew this bird encompassed perfectly the tone of Emma's pilgrimage.
In The Blackbird, I found a Tennyson quote that mentions blackbirds. The heroine, Tess, while of Mexican descent also has an Irish papa and through him a connection to Tennyson. Blackbirds are mystical birds, linking us to the world of enchantment. 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.
The Bluebird will be published
in Spring 2016.
The last book, The Bluebird, is still a work-in-progress, but I have faith that the pieces will reveal themselves in time. This story jumps ahead several years and features Molly Rose, niece to the first Molly from The Wren. While the bird references have helped to shape the series, I always knew I'd begin with a Molly and end with a Molly, which was the nickname of my great-grandmother.
I apologize for the poor quality of the photo,
but this is Mary Agnes "Molly" O'Rourke Kearney, my great-grandmother.
Kristy McCaffrey has been writing since she was very young, but it wasn’t until she was a stay-at-home mom that she considered becoming published. She’s the author of several historical western romances, all set in the American southwest. She lives in the Arizona desert with her husband, two chocolate labs, and whichever of their four teenaged children happen to be in residence. Sign up for her monthly newsletter or visit her website for more info.
I wrote my first novel, The Wren, more than ten years ago. I was a young stay-at-home mom with four kids all under the age of five running amuck. I'd been writing since I was seven years old, but I didn't envision penning a novel until I was too tired from mothering to realize that what I was about to attempt would be tremendously difficult, yet so rewarding. Not much different than becoming a mom, right?
I'm sometimes asked how I decided on the titles for my Wings of the West series. The simple version is that they just came to me, which for the most part is true. I've long known the titles, and the order in which they would appear, before I had a clear picture of characters and storylines—The Wren, The Dove, The Sparrow, The Blackbird, and the final installment, The Bluebird. But there are deeper meanings as well.
Many years ago I enjoyed a television show called "Ned Blessing: The Story of My Life and Times," starring Brad Johnson. Maybe some of you remember it. A recurring character was a woman in town—a soiled dove—who was secretly in love with Ned. She was called "the Wren." For some reason, that stuck with me when, years later, I began developing my Old West series. In my story, however, the heroine, Molly, isn't a prostitute (that theme is addressed in the next book, the aptly titled The Dove). As a child Molly is quite adept with a slingshot, which she's named "the Wren" because she believes that the rocks she uses may have been dropped by wrens. Rock Wrens have a habit of leaving a stone path to their nests. This encompasses the broader theme of Molly trying to find her way home after she was thought dead at the hands of the Comanche ten years prior.
A Rock Wren.
In the second book, The Dove, I dealt with the well-used theme of prostitution. The heroine in this story, 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?
In The Sparrow, my 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. I will admit, this novel took a strange turn, but I did my best to follow the bones laid before me and write the story as best I could. Sparrows are known as common birds who speak to the inherent magnificence that can be present in all of us. As I wrote the tale, I knew this bird encompassed perfectly the tone of Emma's pilgrimage.
In The Blackbird, I found a Tennyson quote that mentions blackbirds. The heroine, Tess, while of Mexican descent also has an Irish papa and through him a connection to Tennyson. Blackbirds are mystical birds, linking us to the world of enchantment. 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.
The Bluebird will be published
in Spring 2016.
The last book, The Bluebird, is still a work-in-progress, but I have faith that the pieces will reveal themselves in time. This story jumps ahead several years and features Molly Rose, niece to the first Molly from The Wren. While the bird references have helped to shape the series, I always knew I'd begin with a Molly and end with a Molly, which was the nickname of my great-grandmother.
I apologize for the poor quality of the photo,
but this is Mary Agnes "Molly" O'Rourke Kearney, my great-grandmother.
Kristy McCaffrey has been writing since she was very young, but it wasn’t until she was a stay-at-home mom that she considered becoming published. She’s the author of several historical western romances, all set in the American southwest. She lives in the Arizona desert with her husband, two chocolate labs, and whichever of their four teenaged children happen to be in residence. Sign up for her monthly newsletter or visit her website for more info.
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...
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
Fort Bowie, Arizona
By Kristy McCaffrey
Fort Bowie—located in southeastern Arizona—would become one of the most important military posts in the Arizona Territory. It not only guarded Apache Pass and its important water supply, it was situated directly in Chiricahua Apache country.
Fort Bowie
Apache Pass is a shallow saddle that separates the southeastern Arizona’s Chiricahua Mountains from the Dos Cabezas. When the United States acquired the area from Mexico, they inherited a corridor that became nationally prominent as the Southern Overland Mail Road, connecting the eastern U.S. to California. Unfortunately, Apache Pass lay in the heart of Apacheria. Because there was a fairly reliable water source at Apache Springs (at the pass), this location was frequented by the Chiricahua Apache Indians.
Apache Pass
The first Fort Bowie—named for Colonel George Washington Bowie, commander of the regiment that established the fort—was built at Apache Pass in 1862, consisting of a 4-foot high stone wall that was 412 feet long. The wall surrounded tents and a stone guard house. During the next six years, patrols attempted to subdue the Apache, who raided and killed travelers not escorted by the military. Living conditions at the fort were undesirable: isolation, bad food, sickness, crude quarters, and the constant threat of Apaches led to low morale and frequent troop rotation.
In 1868, construction began on a second Fort Bowie and encompassed barracks, houses, corrals, a trading post and a hospital. In 1876, most of the Chiricahua Indians were taken to the San Carlos Reservation, but Geronimo escaped, launching the start of a 10-year battle known as the Geronimo War. During this time, Fort Bowie was the center of military operations against the Chiricahua. Geronimo’s final surrender came in 1886. After that, Fort Bowie settled into a more peaceful existence. It was finally closed in 1894.
Fort Bowie, 1893.
Geronimo departing for Florida from Fort Bowie, 1895.
*****
My book THE BLACKBIRD features Fort Bowie and was a Laramie Winner in Western Romance.
*****
Connect with Kristy
Website
Facebook
Twitter
Blog ~ Pathways
Newsletter
Fort Bowie—located in southeastern Arizona—would become one of the most important military posts in the Arizona Territory. It not only guarded Apache Pass and its important water supply, it was situated directly in Chiricahua Apache country.
Fort Bowie
Apache Pass is a shallow saddle that separates the southeastern Arizona’s Chiricahua Mountains from the Dos Cabezas. When the United States acquired the area from Mexico, they inherited a corridor that became nationally prominent as the Southern Overland Mail Road, connecting the eastern U.S. to California. Unfortunately, Apache Pass lay in the heart of Apacheria. Because there was a fairly reliable water source at Apache Springs (at the pass), this location was frequented by the Chiricahua Apache Indians.
Apache Pass
The first Fort Bowie—named for Colonel George Washington Bowie, commander of the regiment that established the fort—was built at Apache Pass in 1862, consisting of a 4-foot high stone wall that was 412 feet long. The wall surrounded tents and a stone guard house. During the next six years, patrols attempted to subdue the Apache, who raided and killed travelers not escorted by the military. Living conditions at the fort were undesirable: isolation, bad food, sickness, crude quarters, and the constant threat of Apaches led to low morale and frequent troop rotation.
In 1868, construction began on a second Fort Bowie and encompassed barracks, houses, corrals, a trading post and a hospital. In 1876, most of the Chiricahua Indians were taken to the San Carlos Reservation, but Geronimo escaped, launching the start of a 10-year battle known as the Geronimo War. During this time, Fort Bowie was the center of military operations against the Chiricahua. Geronimo’s final surrender came in 1886. After that, Fort Bowie settled into a more peaceful existence. It was finally closed in 1894.
Fort Bowie, 1893.
Geronimo departing for Florida from Fort Bowie, 1895.
*****
My book THE BLACKBIRD features Fort Bowie and was a Laramie Winner in Western Romance.
*****
Connect with Kristy
Website
Blog ~ Pathways
Newsletter
Labor Day Sale!! @McCaffreyKristy #romancebooks
I've got two books on sale this holiday weekend.
Blue Sage by Kristy McCaffrey
What do you do when a woman literally lands at your feet?
Braden Delaney has taken over the family cattle business after the death of his father, but faced with difficult financial decisions, he contemplates selling a portion of the massive Delaney ranch holdings known as Whisper Rock, a place of unusual occurrences. The sudden appearance of a pretty relic-hunter while he’s collecting his livestock, however, is about to change his mind.
Archaeologist Audrey Driggs arrives in the remote wilderness of Northern Arizona for clues to a life-altering experience from her childhood. When she rolls off a mountain and lands at the feet of rugged cowboy Braden Delaney, it’s clear she needs his knowledge of the area to complete her quest. But if she tells him the truth, will he think she’s crazy?
Together, they’ll uncover a long-lost secret.
This long novella was previously published in the anthology A COWBOY TO KEEP.
AMAZON
NOOK
iBOOKS
KOBO
GOOGLE PLAY
* * * * * *
Book 4 in the Wings of the West Series.
Can be read as a standalone novel.
The Blackbird by Kristy McCaffrey
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.
A steamy historical western romance set in 1877 Arizona Territory.
2015 Laramie Award ~ BEST in Western Romantic Fiction
Don’t miss all the books in the series~
The Wren: Book 1
The Dove: Book 2
The Sparrow: Book 3
The Blackbird: Book 4
The Shiny Penny: Short Story, Book 4.1 (available exclusively to newsletter subscribers)
Song Of The Wren: Short Novella, Book 4.2 (available exclusively to newsletter subscribers)
The Bluebird: Book 5
Echo of the Plains: Short Novella, Book 5.5
AMAZON
NOOK
iBOOKS
KOBO
GOOGLE PLAY
Blue Sage by Kristy McCaffrey
What do you do when a woman literally lands at your feet?
Braden Delaney has taken over the family cattle business after the death of his father, but faced with difficult financial decisions, he contemplates selling a portion of the massive Delaney ranch holdings known as Whisper Rock, a place of unusual occurrences. The sudden appearance of a pretty relic-hunter while he’s collecting his livestock, however, is about to change his mind.
Archaeologist Audrey Driggs arrives in the remote wilderness of Northern Arizona for clues to a life-altering experience from her childhood. When she rolls off a mountain and lands at the feet of rugged cowboy Braden Delaney, it’s clear she needs his knowledge of the area to complete her quest. But if she tells him the truth, will he think she’s crazy?
Together, they’ll uncover a long-lost secret.
This long novella was previously published in the anthology A COWBOY TO KEEP.
AMAZON
NOOK
iBOOKS
KOBO
GOOGLE PLAY
* * * * * *
Book 4 in the Wings of the West Series.
Can be read as a standalone novel.
The Blackbird by Kristy McCaffrey
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.
A steamy historical western romance set in 1877 Arizona Territory.
2015 Laramie Award ~ BEST in Western Romantic Fiction
Don’t miss all the books in the series~
The Wren: Book 1
The Dove: Book 2
The Sparrow: Book 3
The Blackbird: Book 4
The Shiny Penny: Short Story, Book 4.1 (available exclusively to newsletter subscribers)
Song Of The Wren: Short Novella, Book 4.2 (available exclusively to newsletter subscribers)
The Bluebird: Book 5
Echo of the Plains: Short Novella, Book 5.5
AMAZON
NOOK
iBOOKS
KOBO
GOOGLE PLAY
Heaviest Themed Book I've Written
By Kristy McCaffrey
The heaviest themed book I’ve written is hands down The Blackbird.
If you’ve read the first four Wings novels, then you might be aware of the overarching theme of healing in each one. (The Wren is about finding your way back home, physically and metaphorically, and honoring your truest self. The Dove is about outward healing using medicine. The Sparrow is about spiritual healing. And The Blackbird is all about soul healing.)
The heroine, Tess, has experienced trauma, and with it lingering PTSD (but it wasn’t called that in the 1800’s). Full disclosure—in her backstory she was raped by one of her pa’s gang members. This is not on page. My goal wasn’t to focus on such a heinous act, but to follow Tess’s path back to a place of love. And for that I knew my hero, Cale Walker, would need to be very special.
Cale’s backstory includes a brush with violence (he rode with Tess’s father’s gang years prior), but he managed to extricate himself knowing the broken morality such a path carried. This insight allows him to straddle both worlds (good and evil) so he can lead Tess through it and ultimately help her find the peace she needs.
As a writer myself, I’m fascinated by the magic of storytelling, and so I developed Tess’s character into a cuentista, a kind of professional storyteller. It becomes a way for her to help others and also herself with mythical narratives. Finding the tales I used in the book was a big challenge, but I included local Hispanic lore alongside Apache stories as well as Irish ones (Tess is part-Mexican, part-Irish).
The alchemy that a storyteller practices is as real as a blacksmith’s hammer and anvil. I hope that I was able to show through Cale and Tess’s love story that pain can be transformed into something better and more beautiful.
While The Blackbird carries a heavy theme, it’s a book I’m deeply proud of, and I was thrilled it won the 2015 Laramie for Best in Romantic Western Fiction.
Cale and Tess’s eldest daughter, Dolores, will appear as a side character in the next Wings of the West book. The Swan will release July 10, 2025.
*****
If you missed any of my other posts about my books, here are the links.
The Most Challenging Books I’ve Written
My Most Favorite Books I’ve Written
Books That Were The Most Fun To Write
Favorite Scene I’ve Written
The heaviest themed book I’ve written is hands down The Blackbird.
If you’ve read the first four Wings novels, then you might be aware of the overarching theme of healing in each one. (The Wren is about finding your way back home, physically and metaphorically, and honoring your truest self. The Dove is about outward healing using medicine. The Sparrow is about spiritual healing. And The Blackbird is all about soul healing.)
The heroine, Tess, has experienced trauma, and with it lingering PTSD (but it wasn’t called that in the 1800’s). Full disclosure—in her backstory she was raped by one of her pa’s gang members. This is not on page. My goal wasn’t to focus on such a heinous act, but to follow Tess’s path back to a place of love. And for that I knew my hero, Cale Walker, would need to be very special.
Cale’s backstory includes a brush with violence (he rode with Tess’s father’s gang years prior), but he managed to extricate himself knowing the broken morality such a path carried. This insight allows him to straddle both worlds (good and evil) so he can lead Tess through it and ultimately help her find the peace she needs.
As a writer myself, I’m fascinated by the magic of storytelling, and so I developed Tess’s character into a cuentista, a kind of professional storyteller. It becomes a way for her to help others and also herself with mythical narratives. Finding the tales I used in the book was a big challenge, but I included local Hispanic lore alongside Apache stories as well as Irish ones (Tess is part-Mexican, part-Irish).
The alchemy that a storyteller practices is as real as a blacksmith’s hammer and anvil. I hope that I was able to show through Cale and Tess’s love story that pain can be transformed into something better and more beautiful.
While The Blackbird carries a heavy theme, it’s a book I’m deeply proud of, and I was thrilled it won the 2015 Laramie for Best in Romantic Western Fiction.
Cale and Tess’s eldest daughter, Dolores, will appear as a side character in the next Wings of the West book. The Swan will release July 10, 2025.
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If you missed any of my other posts about my books, here are the links.
The Most Challenging Books I’ve Written
My Most Favorite Books I’ve Written
Books That Were The Most Fun To Write
Favorite Scene I’ve Written
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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