Welcome! I’m fortunate to be able to do what I love, which is to write romance novels, in particular, Harlequin Superromance. I love to hear from readers! email@example.com
MY BEAUTIFUL NEW COVER
I’m happy to share the gorgeous cover of my upcoming September Superromance. Love it!
Community service never looked so good
Monica Accord knows trends, not tractors…fashion, not fertilizer. But she’s stuck working on Noah Cameron’s farm after one mistake lands her with community service. Monica remembers Noah from high school, but she definitely never knew about the crush he had on her. Now it just feels as if she’s some bothersome city slicker.
Yet she soon realizes there’s more growing between her and Noah than just crops—a lot more. As long as the revelation of a family secret doesn’t ruin their chance of a lifetime…
Wheeeee! Last year’s Superromance, ALWAYS EMILY, is a finalist in the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence contest! I am absolutely thrilled!
Check out the other wonderful finalists:
Authors spend an inordinate amount of time working in isolation, never really certain how their next story will be received. Being a finalist in a contest is a wonderful affirmation, a sign that the writing is heading in a good direction!
It’s November 4th, 2014 and I’m tooting my own horn! USA Today has chosen NO ORDINARY HOME as one of three must-read romances. I am thrilled!
From the review: “NO ORDINARY HOME is no ordinary story. It’s powerful and profound, and altogether lovely…this is one riveting romance, wrapped up with a super-gratifying HEA.”
Follow this link to an interview on USA Today:
NO ORDINARY COWBOY re-released!
My books started with a series about a small town named Ordinary, Montana, in which a rancher named Hank Shelter owned a ranch called The Sheltering Arms. In NO ORDINARY COWBOY, Hank brought inner-city children to his ranch to recover from the trauma of having had cancer. Always, he sent each child home with a small white Stetson. Over the years, that amounted to hundreds of children, who remained devoted to him throughout their lives.
The heroine, as could be expected, comes to the ranch to tell him he doesn’t have enough money to keep the ranch going, so he must sell, which breaks his heart. The story is about their struggle to come to terms with vastly different philosophies.
This month, Harlequin has re-released that first Superromance in their Western Romance Collection, with a brand new, very lovely cover.
There’s an excerpt from NO ORDINARY COWBOY below.
Amy saw Hank outside her window with his hands cupped in front of him. His shirt and pants were dirty and wet, as though he’d been lying in mud and water. A moment later, she understood why. He squatted in front of the toad house in the garden, the one about which little Cheryl had been so curious. Hank set a toad down on the soil then placed the toad house on top of it.
Amy stretched her neck to watch as he snuck around the front corner of the house.
She heard the front door open.
Hank called, “Where’s Cheryl?”
Amy tiptoed to her door and peeked out. Hank stood in the hallway. The kitchen door opened and Cheryl came out in her miniature overalls. Hank scooped her into his arms and grinned. His eyes crinkled and his cheeks broadened, framing his white, white teeth. Hank had a smile that could light airport runways.
Something happened in Amy’s chest, a bubble rising from somewhere near her solar plexus.
Carrying Cheryl to the front door as though she were a rare hothouse flower, Hank exited the house, saying, “I got a surprise for you, darlin’.” The bubble rose a little higher in Amy’s chest.
She ran to the window and waited for them to round the corner of the house, her heart pounding an odd skipping rhythm.
Hank set Cheryl on the ground in front of the toad house, then knelt beside her.
“Crouch down here and I’ll show you something.”
Cheryl said, “‘Kay,” and mimicked his stance.
Amy had trouble swallowing around the bubble that had risen into her throat.
Hank picked up the toad house. The toad hopped out. Cheryl screamed and jumped against Hank, grabbing him around the neck.
He laughed. “This little guy won’t hurt you.” He took Cheryl’s hand in his own and placed it on the toad’s back.
“He feels cool.” Cheryl’s voice shook, with fear or fascination—Amy wasn’t sure which—but the child didn’t pull her hand away. She kept it on the toad’s back, tucked under Hank’s big palm.
Amy thought she could almost feel Hank’s hand on top of her own, the surrounding safe warmth of it, the rough calluses, the dampness from the June heat.
The bubble rising in her burst out of her in a joyful laugh. Hank looked up at the open window.