Special excerpt for sci-fi novel The Wishing Stone by Tegon Maus

Today’s special feature is an excerpt from the soft sci-fi novel The Wishing Stone by Tegon Maus.

During his virtual book tour with Goddess Fish Promotions, Tegon is going to be awarding a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble gift card to a lucky randomly drawn winner. To be entered for a chance to win, use the form below. To increase your chances of winning, feel free to visit his other tour stops and enter there, too.

A little bit about The Wishing Stone:

The last time we used it was at the hospital the morning she died.

On that day, all three of us made a silent wish, certain the others had wished the same. Kate died that afternoon and I never thought about it again. It was the last time I believed in magic, in love or... in the existence of God... and then, after three miserable, lonely years... the unthinkable, a second chance... Warwick.

Excerpt from The Wishing Stone:

We walked in silence back to the front door and outside where the car waited. The driver opened the door for her and Williams slid over out of the way; the desire to get in with her pulled at me as she wrapped her arms around me.

"Be good," I said as we kissed. "If you can't be good... be funny."

"Three days, Ben... I'll be back... and we'll go home. Three days," she said, kissing me again. 

"Three days," I repeated and almost before I realized it she had slipped into the vehicle, the door had closed and she was gone.

I watched the car for as long as I could before it finally faded from view.

The others had returned inside, all except Director Meadows.

"Ready?" she asked, rubbing her arms, warming them in the cold air.

"So ready I'm first in line," I joked. The tug of Audrey and homesick hit me all at once.

She slipped a warm arm around my shoulder, guiding me back inside.

As we reentered Roger and the others had disappeared. We were greeted by two people, a man and a woman, both in white coats.

"Mr. Harris, this is Doctor Richard Prout and his wife, Doctor Joan Prout. They will be your -"

"Guides," the woman interrupted, leaning forward a little.

"Yes, I like that... guides... for the next few days," she continued with an odd smile. "They will help you get to the bottom of your... situation." 

"Nice to meet you," I said, shaking each of their hands in turn.

Meadows went about her way leaving me with my two new companions.

Bio:

I was raised pretty much the same as everyone else... devoted mother, strict father and all the imaginary friends I could conjure. Not that I wasn't friendly, I just wasn't "people orientated". Maybe I lived in my head way more than I should have, maybe not. I liked machines more than people, at least I did until I met my wife.

The first thing I can remember writing was for her. For the life of me I can't remember what it was about... something about dust bunnies under the bed and monsters in my closet. It must have been pretty good because she married me shortly after that. I spent a good number of years after inventing games and prototypes for a variety of ideas before I got back to writing.

It wasn't a deliberate conscious thought it was more of a stepping stone. My wife and I had joined a dream interpret group and we were encouraged to write down our dreams as they occurred. "Be as detailed as you can," we were told.

I was thrilled. If there is one thing I enjoy it's making people believe me and I like to exaggerate. Not a big exaggeration or an outright lie mine you, just a little step out of sync, just enough so you couldn't be sure if it were true or not. When I write, I always write with the effort of "it could happen" very much in mind and nothing, I guarantee you, nothing, makes me happier.

Links:

Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Tirgearr Publishing | Website

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Interview with sci-fi author Tegon Maus

Today’s special interviewee is Tegon Maus. He’s here to chat about his new soft sci-fi novel, Bob.

During his virtual book tour, Tegon will be awarding a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble (winner’s choice) gift card to a lucky randomly-drawn winner. To be entered for a chance to win, use the form below. To increase your chances of winning, feel free to visit his other tour stops and enter there, too!

Welcome, Tegon. Please tell us a little bit about yourself.

I was raised pretty much the same as everyone else... devoted mother, strict father and all the imaginary friends I could conjure. Not that I wasn't friendly, I just wasn't "people orientated". Maybe I lived in my head way more than I should have, maybe not. I liked machines more than people, at least I did until I met my wife.

The first thing I can remember writing was for her. For the life of me I can't remember what it was about... something about dust bunnies under the bed and monsters in my closet. It must have been pretty good because she married me shortly after that. I spent a good number of years after inventing games and prototypes for a variety of ideas before I got back to writing.

It wasn't a deliberate conscious thought it was more of a stepping stone. My wife and I had joined a dream interpret group and we were encouraged to write down our dreams as they occurred. "Be as detailed as you can," we were told.

I was thrilled. If there is one thing I enjoy it's making people believe me and I like to exaggerate. Not a big exaggeration or an outright lie mine you, just a little step out of sync, just enough so you couldn't be sure if it were true or not. When I write, I always write with the effort of "it could happen" very much in mind and nothing, I guarantee you, nothing, makes me happier.

Please tell us about your current release, Bob.

Veteran newspaper man, Peter Anderson’s career is slipping away. When he's sent to do a fluff piece about lights in the Arizona night sky, he discovers far more than he ever expected. His investigation leaves him with more questions than answers. The only thing he knows for certain, the only thing he can count on are the two words offered repeatedly by Bob, his friend and guide . . . “IS BELT.”

What inspired you to write this book?

The lights in the night sky over Arizona. When the governor came out at the news conference with the guy in a costume it pissed me off.

Excerpt from Bob:

I blinked in disbelief, too stunned to speak.

Standing in front of me, dressed in black jeans, a dark blue tee shirt with a picture of Bob Marley and a backward baseball cap was a small, no more than 5' 2", twenty something, black man.

"Hi. I'm Pete," I said, offering my hand.

"Ahh, is sad story. Bob's cousin not speak English," Bob said pushing my hand away.

"Awhhh," the little man breathed hoarsely, turning away, his arms swung loosely in response.

"Bob, he just said dude to me when he came in," I said, pointing an insistent finger at the little man.

"He tries, broken English not so good. Is Fred," he answered, spinning his hand playfully in the air, pointing, draping a large, affectionate arm over the man's shoulder.

"Fred... your Russian cousin?"

"Da," he answered simply without blinking.

"Bob... he just spoke to me and it wasn't Russian," I protested.

"Ahh, Bob's friend generous, not make Bob's cousin self-conscious. You good man, but Fred speaks no English," he argued, folding his arms.

"Ahhh, damn it, Bob. You promised me... you said I could talk this time. Shit man," Fred cursed in a raspy whisper, stomping his foot, turning away.

"Nyet, nyet," Bob scolded, grabbing Fred. He began to speak Russian, shaking his finger in the other man's face.

Fred's shoulders slumped. His head swung loosely from side to side, avoiding Bob's gaze.

"Da," he said dully, turning in my direction once more.

"His English not so good," Bob added, wiggling his hands dismissively.

"Sounded damn good to me," I said honestly.

"Bob understands. Bob's friend speak Spanish?" he asked with a little annoyance in his voice, threading his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"Nope. Can't say as I do," I answered, folding my arms.

"How you say... no speak Spanish?" he asked, folding his arms as well.

"No habla Hispano."

"AAAHHH, to Bob, Bob's friend sound like native. Bob thought he smelled burritos, heard waves on beach. Very impressed. Bob's friend has gift for language. Sure not speak Spanish?"

"Fred," I said flatly, stepping directly in front of the little man. "Do you speak English?"

"Da. Fred speak no English," he responded dully, tilting his head from side to side, his arms hung slack, swinging loosely as he spoke.

"Very sad, like Bob say. Fred's parents live too close to nuclear plant. Sure, sure, rent very cheap but Fred... no brain for English," Bob said, closing his eyes, shaking his head in a pretentious, melancholy way.

"Bob," I started.

"Very late. No time for Fred's story. Bob's friend want to see house tonight or no?" he asked, pushing himself to stand between me and Fred.

"Alright, have it your way. Let's go," I demanded now irritated, angrily grabbing my coat off the back of the chair.

"Nyet, nyet. Bob's friend almost forget," he said, turning his back quickly, wriggling his fingers.

"Dear God. Money? Now?" I said, throwing my coat across the back of the chair again.

"Business before pleasure... makes good fences."

"The saying is, 'good fences make good neighbors' not..."

"Bob's friend knows what Bob say. Not want money to be sticky bug between us."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. How much this time?" I asked aggravated, removing my wallet.

"Bob not know about such things. Must speak with cousin," he said, wrapping a huge arm around the tiny man, pulling him to the other side of the room.

"Bob, you gave me your word," Fred whispered forcefully, sending a pointed finger into Bob's chest.

"Fred say, must think about it. Fred likes Bob's friend Peter, wants give good price," he said, smiling in my direction and then began to speak rapidly in Russian.

"Damn it, Bob. You promised me," Fred whispered disappointedly.

"Fred say, four hundred dollars," Bob said, holding up four fingers of his right hand, all the while maintaining his grip on Fred's shoulder.

"Three hundred," I countered, folding my arms, returning my wallet to my hip pocket.

"Oooh, Bob's friend breaks Bob's feelings. Bob's friend would steal bread from Fred very mouth?"

"It's not in Fred's mouth just yet... three hundred," I insisted.

What exciting story are you working on next?

Service before Self.

Toby Grant has landed his dream job as a service tech for Handy Dandy Services. Things don’t go well from day one, when he's teamed up with Ryan Burnell, a twenty year veteran of the company. Toby quickly learns the hardships of being Ryan’s partner, and finds himself in one uncomfortable situation after another. Toby learns the true meaning of the company’s motto—“Service Before Self.”

When did you first consider yourself a writer?

After my first book The Littlefield Chronicles was published. I panicked because I didn’t have another to follow it up.

Do you write full-time? If so, what's your work day like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find time to write?

I’m an REO contractor… I write nights and weekends. Actually I write in my head during the day and then put it down on paper at night.

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

Writing quirk?? I can’t imagine such a thing… I do like to have a box of Fig Newtons on hand for inspiration… does that count ??

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

I’ve always wanted to build robots, androids… as time went by I switched to building parts for amputees.

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?

Please feel free to send me a note about any of my books! You can reach me at Tegon.maus@Verizon.net.

Links:

Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest | Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Tirgearr Publishing

Thanks, Tegon! 

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Book excerpt for historical romance "Taming Jenna" by Charlene Raddon

Today is a book excerpt and blurb stop for the virtual tour of the historical romance novel Taming Jenna by Charlene Raddon.

During her tour, Charlene will be awarding an e-copy of one of her books from her backlist at each stop to a randomly drawn commenter, and a Grand Prize of a $30 gift card will be awarded to a randomly drawn commenter at the end of the tour. So to be entered for a chance to win, leave a comment below (and a way for Charlene to get in touch with you). To increase your chances of winning, feel free to visit other tour stops and leave comments there, too.

Author bio:

Charlene Raddon began her fiction career in the third grade when she announced in Show and Tell that a baby sister she never had was killed by a black widow spider. She often penned stories featuring mistreated young girls whose mother accused of crimes her sister had actually committed. Her first serious attempt at writing fiction came in 1980 when she woke up from a vivid dream that compelled her to drag out a portable typewriter and begin writing. She’s been at it ever since. An early love for romance novels and the Wild West led her to choose the historical romance genre but she also writes contemporary romance. At present, she has five books published in paperback by Kensington Books (one under the pseudonym Rachel Summers), and four eBooks published by Tirgearr Publishing.

Charlene’s awards include: RWA Golden Heart Finalist, Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Award Nomination, Affair de Coeur Magazine Reader/Writer Poll for Best Historical of the Year. Her books have won or place in several contests.

Currently, Charlene is working on her next release.

Blurb:

THE WRONG MAN

Deserted by her father at the tender age of seven, Jenna Leigh-Whittington had taught herself to ride, shoot, brawl…and steer clear of the opposite sex. But now, in a lonely Utah canyon, the Pinkerton agent has drawn her gun on a rugged stranger—only to discover that, far from the dangerous outlaw she’d been tracking, he is Branch McCauley, hired gun…and the most irresistible rascal ever to tempt and torment a woman!

THE RIGHT WOMAN         

If there’s one thing McCauley trusts less than a female, it’s a female who packs a six-gun. But what a woman! Vowing to bring the sensuous hellcat to heel, McCauley has no inkling that their passionate battle of wills has just begun. Taming Jenna will be the most seductive—and satisfying—job he’s ever taken on.

Excerpt:

No sooner had they broken into the open than a volley of shots whizzed past their ears. They hugged their mounts' necks tighter and spurred them on. Jenna took out her gun and fired an occasional wild shot, knowing Branch was doing the same, though she could barely hear the blasts above the pounding hooves and her own thundering heartbeat. Once she thought she heard Mendoza shout in Spanish, a curse or a prayer. Perhaps both.

A bullet whizzed overhead, snapping a twig from a tree in her path.

"Come on, Gent," she urged the sorrel. "Get me out of here alive, and I'll give you a whole bucketful of oats." Hot fire bit into her side, like a hitch from too much running. Jenna kept riding. She risked a glance over her shoulder and saw that both men were still in their saddles, though Branch was farther behind than she liked. The realization that he was trying to protect her wrenched her heart. Damn fool. If he gets himself killed, I'll...

Bits of lather off of Gent's neck peppered Jenna's face. She could feel the sorrel's powerful muscles quiver beneath her and knew he was tiring. She kept up her words of encouragement and prayed they'd be able to stop before the horse faltered. She hated having to mistreat her animal.

Minutes passed like hours, yards like miles. It seemed as if they had splashed through the stream a hundred times. Branches lashed her face and arms and snagged her clothes. Her hat was gone. Her thick braid slapped against her back like a whip. Tendrils tom loose by the wind stung her eyes. Gradually the firing lessened. Finally Branch was beside her, signaling her to ease up.

"No sign of being followed," he shouted when they'd slowed to a lope. "Stick close to the stream; it'll give us more cover in case we need it."

Jenna nodded. The day had become horribly hot all of a sudden. Sweat dripped in her eyes and pooled between her breasts. She sat hunched against the painful hitch that refused to leave her side. To fight off the nausea, she dragged in great gulps of air.

Branch frowned as he studied her. "Are you all right? You're as white as a Christmas Sunday."

"I'm fine, just winded."

"Are you sure? I don't like the way you look."

"I'm not fond of your looks either, McCauley. You wanna stop for a picnic or are we gonna ride?"

She kicked her sorrel and once more took the lead. Branch's brows drew down over his troubled eyes as he watched her go. He'd seen pain in her eyes. Even her words were slurred. When Mendoza came alongside, clinging to his saddle horn with his bound hands, Branch told him to keep a close eye on her and yell out if there were a problem. Then Branch dropped behind again.

Where had the day gone? Jenna wondered. It couldn't be evening already. Yet the light was growing dim. They had turned into a shallow gorge that led southeastward out of the main canyon. The ascent slowed the horses to a fast walk. Then they were running again. Jenna didn't notice.

All she felt now was pain. White hot agony centered in her side. She struggled not to give in to it, but the nausea and the dizziness were becoming worse.

For a moment she thought she heard someone call her name as night descended with amazing speed. Then she heard nothing more; no hooves thudding over the uneven ground, no wind whistling past her ear, not even her own heartbeat or Gent's weary wheeze.

She sensed something was wrong as the reins slid from her hands. Too tired to care, she let them go.

Then she was sliding…drifting…sailing into the darkness…deeper, deeper into the pain.

Links:

Twitter | Website | Facebook | Blog | Goodreads

Interview with historical travel guide author Christy Nicholas

Today’s guest is Christy Jackson Nicholas. She’s at the front-end of a virtual book tour where she has a different stop every Monday for her mystical, historical travel guide Ireland: Mythical, Magical, Mystical – A Guide to Hidden Ireland, now available from Tirgearr Publishing.

Christy will award a $20 Amazon gift card to one randomly drawn commenter. To be entered to win, leave a comment below (and a way for Christy to get in touch with you). And to increase your chances of winning, visit other tour stops and leave comments there too.

Welcome, Christy. Please tell us a little bit about yourself.

My name is Christy Nicholas, also known as Green Dragon. I do many things, including digital art, beaded jewelry, writing and photography. In real life I'm a CPA, but having grown up with art and around me (my mother, grandmother and great-grandmother are/were all artists), it sort of infected me, as it were.

I love to draw and to create things. It's more of an obsession than a hobby. I like looking up into the sky and seeing a beautiful sunset, or a fragrant blossom, a dramatic seaside. I then wish to take a picture or create a piece of jewelry to share this serenity, this joy, this beauty with others. Sometimes this sharing requires explanation – and thus I write. Combine this love of beauty with a bit of financial sense and you get an art business. I do local art and craft shows, as well as sending my art to various science fiction conventions throughout the country and abroad.

Please tell us about your current release.

This book is a guide to help others to have the chance to be part of the magic that is Ireland. I have included some myth and history to give readers a context, some practical tips about the culture and the planning of the trip, and then a huge section of hidden places to find. I’ve also got it chock full of photographs I’ve taken on my own travels.

What inspired you to write this book?

I am enchanted with the land of Ireland, and I think everyone should experience this magical place.

Excerpt:

The Mythological Cycle

The Mythological Cycle is mostly comprised of a set of tales known as Lebor Gabála Érenn, the Book of Invasions or the Book of Conquests, and is, like the other tales of Ireland, filled with politics, battle, love, magic, and outrageous tales of feats of strength and revenge. It recounts, via myth and story, the invasions of the different peoples of Ireland over the course of its history. How closely these invasions are rooted in reality we may never know. However, once we reach the invasion of the sons of Mil (some time before 100 BCE), we start getting into territory which is corroborated by archeological evidence; these are the Celtic tribes who migrated from northern Spain. The earliest renditions of these tales seem to have come from the 8th to 11th century, and are therefore heavily influenced by this later Christian ideal, but still manage to retain some of their pre-Christian magic.

Other parts of the Mythological Cycle are made up of the Metrical Dindshenchas, or Lore of Places, and other stand-alone tales such as The Dream of Aengus, the Wooing of Etain, and The Tragedy of the Children of Lir. If you want a delightful rendition of these tales, I highly recommend the Celtic Myth Podshow. Hosts Ruth and Gary Colcombe create many engaging dramatizations of these tales on their show, and bring the stories to life.

But let us go back, back into the mists of time before time, of land before remembering, and tales before writing. I have included a small list of names in their English versions and Irish versions in the appendix, for easier reading later on. Go back . . . back into the mists of time, a time before writing, a time before people, a time before the island of Ireland had seen its first people . . . the mists start to rise, showing the green, rolling hills, covered in trees, deer and nothing more.

What exciting story are you working on next?

I've just started working on a similar guide to Scotland – stunning, strange, and secret!

When did you first consider yourself a writer?

I made a horrible attempt at fan fiction when I was in 4^th grade, and abandoned hope of being a professional writer then. However, I’d always enjoyed writing reports in school, and have written articles, essays, trip reports and the like all my life. However, until I actually had a book that was not self-published, I figured I was just an amateur. Now, with this book, I feel like a real writer!

Do you write full-time? If so, what's your work day like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find time to write?

I do not – I am an accountant during the day, and an artist and writer in my free time. I usually sit in front of the computer in the evenings while I work on my craft, with the TV on in the background.

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

I am horrible at self-editing, and I write in frantic spurts. I’ve written 20 pages at one sitting, and then leave it alone for days, as if my muse has other things to attend to.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

That changed with my mood. At various times I’d wanted to be a travel agent, a famous artist, a policewoman, an astronaut. When I was in high school, I was determined to become a Systems Analyst, as I loved computers. However, not being able to pass Physics threw a monkey into that wrench, so to speak, so I switched to accounting.

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?

Someday I hope to actually run mystical tours to Ireland and the United Kingdom. Stay tuned!

Websites: 

www.greendragonartist.com

www.facebook.com/greendragonartist

www.facebook.com/greendragontravel

Twitter: greendragon9

http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Nicholas_Christy/ireland-guide.htm

Thanks, Christy!

Interview with historical romance authors Carley Bauer and Lynette Willows

I’m happy to have 2 authors on the blog today. Historical romance writers Carley Bauer & Lynette Willows are here to talk about the new novel, No Gentleman Is He.

Carley and Lynette are offering two giveaways to two lucky winners during their virtual book tour. Winner 1 will receive a lovely pair of colonial era earrings (U.S. only, due to shipping constraints). Winner 2 will receive a $100 Amazon gift card. To be entered for a chance to win either gift, leave a comment below. And to increase your chances of winning, visit other tour stops and leave comments there.

Bios:

Carley Bauer enjoys life on the eastern seaboard of the U.S. with her husband and their blue eyed feline, Noelle. After 30 years as a state contractor in a self employed capacity, she decided to try her hand at her first love, writing.

She loves being an empty nester, free to travel with her husband. Still involved with her three grown on-their-own children, Carley loves big family events, where her home is filled with a passel of precious, precocious, precarious grandchildren. Some of her other hobbies are fashion, the occasional bite of the Big Apple where the excitement feeds her natural love of city life and home decor, which boasts a collection of Fenton Glassware.

No Gentleman Is He is Carley’s first book. It was released by Tirgearr Publishing in March 2013. The first in the Sons of Liberty series, written by Carley and her co-author, long-time friend and writing partner, Lynette Willows, is ranked #1 in Goodreads Hor Reads for Summer. No Gentleman Is He can be found on Kindle, Nook, Smashwords, ITunes, Kobo, Sony, BookStrand, All Romance Books and OmniLit.

Lynette Willows is a mother, wife, and the property of two Maltese. Verbally awkward, she has always put her thoughts to paper and eventually realized this was what writers do. Hence, the profession chose her instead of the other way around.

She served ten years of apprenticeship as a freelance writer in between raising boys and serving hot suppers to a hard-working husband.

She has a love of odd facts and her favorite hobby is historical research.

She is an avid camper, fisherman, and chases storms for the adrenaline rush. Lynette is an empty nester living with her husband in rural Alberta, Canada.

Welcome, ladies. Please tell us about your current release.
No Gentleman Is He is set in 1775 Virginia. Some scenes take place in Boston, but for the most part, it is in Richmond, Virginia. Cassandra arrived in the colonies in 1774, having left the Devonshire Estate where she was raised, to create a life of horse breeding with her new husband. Within a year, he died, leaving Cassandra living above a tavern loft with four horses. With a mare showing signs of a difficult birth, she sought the help of Colton Rolfe, the dark and powerful owner of Varina Farms. Distrustful of each other, the two set their skepticism aside in order to create a superior breed of horse. Caution to the wind, she moved to Varina Farms to steward his horses, agreeing to allow the use of her horses as the base of his new breeding stock.

As their story unfolds, the war for independence from England heats up, sending them on a mission to inform Boston's Sons of Liberty of the impending attack from the British. Already suspicious of her loyalties, Colton begins to suspect she is a plant. Cassandra, eager to keep her position at Varina Farms, fears Colton will discover she is the daughter of a titled Englishman.

Together they face danger and treachery, at the same time barely able to control their own flames that burn in their hearts for one another.

What inspired you to write this book?

Lynette and I have been writing interactively for over a decade. We decided to get serious, and wrote, in six months time, enough for four books. No Gentleman Is He is the first in the Sons of Liberty series.

Excerpt:

“How much do you charge for your stock?”

Startled by the abrupt topic change, she stammered, “Well, I have not sold any yet. The colt will be the first.”

Inwardly, Colton rejoiced at her inexperience. “How much?” he pressed, in an effort to keep her off balance.

“I have given it some thought. A price of twenty-five pounds seems reasonable.”

Colton’s jaw dropped open. “Are you insane, woman?”

She flinched and bristled, then found her voice. “With my quality horses, I cannot see why I should not demand a fair price.”

“Twenty-five pounds…” he stopped. “That is five pounds more than I charge and I have the best in the county!”

“You had the best,” she corrected saucily, her blue eyes shining with mischief.

Angry at her cheek, Colton urged his horse closer to hers and leaned over close in what he hoped was an intimidating manner, staring into her eyes. He was gratified to see her quiver, her hands tightening on the reins. Still, her gaze remained steady on his. Through his anger he admired her courage. Grown men quaked at his bullying tactics, yet this slip of a girl held fast under his stare.

“You insolent wench,” he huffed.

Cassandra shivered, but did not answer. She held her ground, and he strongly suspected she knew her position was strong. They held a glaring contest for a few seconds.

A slow smile curled one corner of Colton’s mouth. “You have brass ones, woman,” he murmured. “That is one reason I want to buy your horses and make them the foundation of my breeding line.”

Cassandra snorted in derision, obviously surprised at his offer. “Do you honestly think I would give up my horses after all I have sacrificed to keep them?”

“You admitted you are in a bad way.” He shifted in his saddle. “Tom Hardwick is a fine horseman and good foreman, but unfortunately the man is illiterate, only able to work out numbers with great effort. With my planned expansion I have need of a knowledgeable steward.” He studied her reaction at this unorthodox suggestion. “I also need a housekeeper. Martha is not able to read or write, either, and she is getting old. My sister, Frances Anne, who normally would take over the household duties, is abroad and not due home for a year or more. Therefore, I propose you be my housekeeper as well.”

Colton could see suspicion rising in her deep blue eyes. A fetching creature, he doubted she lacked admirers. He supposed she wondered if the proposition was business or if his pleasure would also be part of the bargain. Inexplicably, the latter thought made his groin tighten.

Proper English women were reared to manage a substantial household. Colton was unaware of her heritage, but assumed she garnered these qualities as a governess or housekeeper to prominent English families before coming to the Colonies. War with England was on their heels and Colton made it clear he was willing to make an investment in the fight for independence with his horses. Knowing her background beyond that of Seth Brooks’ widow may not set well with him, but he needed her horses to produce stronger stock if the Colonialists were to get independence from the Crown.

Cassandra sniffed haughtily. “I do not see how your offer could possibly tempt me.”

Colton’s eyes fixed intently on her, belying the informal way he rested his elbow on his thigh, leaning toward her.

“I want sole rights to your stallions to service my mares, Mrs. Brooks. I also claim sole ownership of any foals resulting from breeding our stock.”

Her mouth dropped open at his outrageous proposal. He continued, undaunted.

“The annual wage as steward and housekeeper at Varina Farms is two hundred and forty pounds. It is more than generous, you must admit. You can save up enough to open a small shop, or snag another husband, when my sister returns to take over the household. It is not often a mere woman is offered such an opportunity,” he added.

“You arrogant boor,” Cassandra huffed. “Just when I think you might be a gentleman, you manage to change my mind!”

What exciting story are you working on next?
Our current work in progress is the second book in The Sons of Liberty series. Much to the chagrin of both Lynette and I, we have not settled on the perfect title yet. We are excited about this book, though. We both learned so much in the writing of No Gentleman Is He, we feel much more confident this time around.

Our hero in our WIP is Jackson Lee who was an enormous hit in No Gentleman Is He, as the charming, womanizer of Lee Court Plantation, and loyal friend of Colton Rolfe. Swearing off any relationship that leads to more than courting, Jackson finds himself in a quandary when he falls head over heels for the last person on earth he ever expected to steal his heart. Set in 1776, his obligations to the Sons of Liberty pull him in one direction while his heart strings draw him in another. Readers will find Book Two of the Sons of Liberty series packed with action!

When did you first consider yourself a writer?
Easy. The editing process of this book.

Do you write full-time? If so, what's your work day like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find time to write?
Outside of taking on a bit of self-employed contracting work, yes I write full-time. My most productive writing times are between 9 a.m. and 2:30 p.m. Also try to switch off. Four to five days I write. The other two are spent paying bills, cleaning, running errands, and the like.

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
That I must get up and pace when I'm stuck. Nothing else works.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

I knew I wanted to write. I would day dream about my name in print, spent hours mulling over pseudonyms. (Always knew I would write under a different name. My original pseudonym had to be tossed since I gave the name to my only daughter!) When I won several writing contests in middle school, it only served to the fuel the write flame.

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?
Yes. I am willing to bet if you give No Gentleman Is He a read, you'll fall in love with the characters, their story, and the time period.

Thank you, Carley. And thank you, Lynette. Happy touring and writing! Readers, don’t forget about the 2 giveaways! Leave a comment if you’d like to be entered for a chance to win.

Links: 

Carley Bauer
Facebook | Twitter | Blog | Pinterest | Goodreads | Amazon author page | About me  

Carley/LynetteFacebook Fan Page 

Lynette Willows

Facebook | Twitter | Blog | Goodreads 

Purchase links

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