Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts

Monday, October 19, 2015

THE 14th QUILT by Robyn Echols







About The Fourteenth Quilt:



Annie, Celia and Lynn are all that are left of the Relief Society quilting class, but they are still determined to make baby quilts for the new mothers at church. Annie, who is just south of eighty years old, calls the quiltsters (short for quilting sisters) together to ask for more. She wants to make lap quilts to give to some of the “forgotten” oldsters she sings to each week at the nursing home—something to wrap them in love at Christmastime. It’s a good idea, but the trio discovers that life and making quilts don’t always go as planned.

The quilters discuss recipes and quilting ideas including a crocheted cat mat to use up their fabric selvage and trim scraps, all of which they share in the book.

Sarah and Brian meet at the university. Their first date is after Sarah’s First Saturday Block of the Month class she attends with her mom at the local quilt shop. Their romance grows, and they plan their future together—a plan that will require them to be separated for six months before their wedding. But, can they bear to be apart that long?

What wraps together this Christmas tale? The Fourteenth Quilt. 

Excerpt #1:          (Getting to Know You)         

“Would you like to go on a date?”
          “No. Oh, no,” Sarah shook her head even more vigorously. “Right now the only thing I’m interested in is getting through finals. I’m not really interested in meeting a bunch of guys and doing the dating scene.”
          “I wasn’t thinking of a bunch of guys. I was wondering if you would like to go on a date with me sometime.”
          Sarah had not expected this. She forced herself to not let her mouth drop open. She looked up again and stared at Brian as if seeing him for the first time. He didn’t have the most rock star handsome face she had ever seen, but he was good-looking. Unlike most of her family who were tall and heftily-built people, he was thin and wiry. She wondered, when they both stood up, would he even be taller than she was?
          With her eyes locked on his, she witnessed kindness as he patiently waited for her answer. Then again, for a second she worried the hint of laughter in his eyes indicated he enjoyed witnessing her discomfort.
          Sarah didn’t know what to say. He looked like a nice guy, but she didn’t really know anything about him.
          “I…I don’t know,” Sarah stammered. “We really don’t know each other. It’s not like Jenna actually introduced us or ever told me anything about you.”
          Brian chuckled.


          “You need to understand, Sarah, I didn’t know anyone on your bench. I was sitting here because I’m Len’s friend, and I’ve met his girlfriend, Terry. Terry is friends with that dark-haired girl. I think her name was Angie. Evidently, Angie knew your friend. What was her name?”
          “Jenna,” supplied Sarah. “I don’t know her all that well, although she seems to be really nice. We share a class together.”
          “But, you know her name,” Brian pointed out. “I suspect that Jenna didn’t make intros because, other than Angie, who was sitting next to her, she didn’t know anyone on my bench.

Brian




          Sarah shrugged. She could see how that could have happened.
          “I don’t want to pressure you if you don’t feel comfortable going out with me,” said Brian. “But, I like you and would like to get to know you better.”
          He doesn’t want to pressure me if I don’t feel comfortable?
Sarah blinked as she thought about his words. It seemed like everyone she knew was always trying to push her out of her comfort zone. 










About Robyn Echols:




Robyn Echols has been writing since she was in junior high school. By choice, she spent most of her evening hours in her "dungeon", as her mother called her downstairs bedroom, writing stories, only joining her family in front of the television upstairs when her favorite programs were playing. She has spent hours learning and teaching family history topics, and focuses on history from a genealogist's perspective of seeking out the details of everyday life in the past.

Now Robyn resides with her husband in California near the “Gateway to Yosemite” and has fun researching and writing the books that she hopes will interest and entertain her readers. She writes Young Adult/New Adult and contemporary fiction under Robyn Echols and adult historical romance under her pen name, Zina Abbott.

The author is a member of Women Writing the West, American Night Writers Association, and Modesto Writers Meet Up. She currently lives with her husband in California near the “Gateway to Yosemite.” She enjoys any kind of history including family history. When she is not piecing together novel plots, she pieces together quilt blocks.

Author Links:

Website  |  Blog  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Pinterest


Quilt Gateway blog (See posts for September 2015)



Purchase Links:


Monday, January 19, 2015

An Interview With Author, Clare Dargin

Interview With Clare Dargin


Author Bio

Clare Dargin is an author of Science Fiction and Romance and has been writing stories all of her life before being published in 2007. She’s a great fan of the two genres and loves promoting them.

An educator by profession, she possesses a Bachelor’s Degree in English from a major mid-western university. She presently resides in the Midwest and she hopes to expand her writings to include non-fiction, historical romance, and contemporary novels.
 

 
INTERVIEW QUESTIONS

 

What is the most adventurous thing you’ve ever done? 

Oh that's difficult to say.  Hmmm if I had to choose one, it would be going to Europe to the UK when I was college.

What adventure would you like to have that you haven’t done yet if money and skill were no problem?

I'd love to go to Hong Kong and/or Australia.  Just because it'd look like it would be cool.

Who are some of your favorite authors?  What commonality do you see in them? 

Inside my genre there are too many to name!  But outside my genre it would be Douglas Preston/Lincoln Child books.  I just love reading them.  They have a balance of accuracy and great story telling with characters who seem to jump off the page with life.

I believe color says something about a person’s personality.  What’s your favorite color?

I recently saw QVC and added a new favorite color to my retinue- Sea Foam Green. But if that's not around, I settle for Royal Blue.

If you could have a do-over life, what one thing would you do differently?  What would you do again?

I wouldn't stress about the little things and as for what would I do over?  I'd just let things flow as life happened and act accordingly. 

What is your writing process from conception to finished MS?

I'm a tried and true pantster<---sp?  So I usually am inspired by something or someone.  And decide on the setting, if that hasn't already happened, then research the hell out of the topic if I don't already have some rudimentary understanding of it.

Are you a planner, panster or both?

Pantster.  I tried being a plotter/planner and it drove me bonkers plus I totally didn't even follow it after like two tries.

How did you research for your book?

The internet!

What is your all-time favorite movie?  TV show?

Star Wars.  TV shows-- too many to name.  At any given time I could name a different one-- like for instance right now I'm obsessed with Supernatural.  A few years back I was obsessed with Firefly.  So it ebbs and flows.

How important do feel writing workshops are to any writer?

I think they are great for the beginning writer or the person who is ready to get their work published but may not be certain if their work is ready to be submitted.  I've used workshops through list-serves in the past (yes my age is showing) as well as through letter correspondence-- (yep that confirms it, I'm old.  But not ancient.)

If you could learn one new skill, fear and money no deterrent, what would it be?

I'd learn how to appreciate musicals.  They make me nuts.  I hate them but people swear they are an art form and one part of me says- hey Clare you are missing out.  But right now there isn't enough money in the world to pay for all the therapy I'll need if I have to sit through one musical cause they make me crazy!  I'm like -no body walks on the street singing a conversation!  Music videos, yes, that's just a song performed in front of people with like pictures but musicals are plays that take too long to be said. 

If you had a million dollars to donate to any one charity, what would it be?

I would set up a free or low cost School Fine arts in Detroit for elementary and middle school children.  That's not donating but that's a dream of mine.  

What advice would you like to give to an aspiring writer?

Know your target audience.  Know the genre in which you are writing, learn about crafting story, dialogue, pacing, etc.  And practice! Practice by writing always!

Did anyone mentor you or help you along the way?  Please tell us about your mentor and what you feel they contributed to your writing career.

There are so many people who have laid the foundation for my dream of publication and I am grateful to them all.  But the one person who stands out is DK Gaston who helped me with my first love-- my scifi romance Cold Warriors.  He really took the time to go through it and brought it up to publishing standards with his editing and I truly believe he was responsible for my first yes in the publishing world.  Thanks #DKGaston #TheFridayHouse #TaurusMoonRelicHunter <--great book!  Buy it!

What is the best advice anyone ever gave you?

You have to love yourself before you can love others.  Because you can't give what you don't have.

If you could live anywhere in the world you wanted to, where would it be? (Language is no barrier)

In one of my books right after the Happily Ever After!

Where do you write? 

Anywhere I can get some quiet and time!

How much time do you devote to writing each week?  Do you have a day every week that you take off?

It's hard to quantify really.  But it is more than ten and less than forty.

What is a genre that you have not attempted that you would like to try?

Non-fiction.  A dream of mine.  Oh and the spy thriller genre.

Is there anything you would like readers to know about you?

I always have at least two or three books in the pipeline! 
 
 


MERRY "CHRIS"MAS


[Ménage Amour: Erotic Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, HEA]

Jilly Reimers wants love but can't find it. Chris Spinell is a veteran of the war in Afghanistan who suffers from PTSD and a haunting feeling that something is missing in his life. Chris Poole is also an Afghanistan war veteran is ready to break out of his shell but is unsure how.

With Christmas just around the corner, they decide not to spend it alone. Believing The Love Play Matchmaking Service to be just what they need for a night of fun and passion, they sign up. But when the guys show up and see that they've been set up on a menage, the only one happy about it is Jilly. 

Their consultant, called an Eros, assures Jilly that the service has a perfect track record but she's certain they'll be the first ones to get their money back. Will they have a very merry Christmas? Or will the three spend yet another one alone?

A Siren Erotic Romance



Excerpt

Jilly idly twirled a lock of her hair as she gazed at the fire. The meal was good, a bit awkward, but all right. Now with Chris S. in the shower, she and Chris P., who’d freshened up after her, sat beside her. She hoped she’d get a chance to know him a little better, now that they were alone.

Unlike Chris S., Chris P. was quiet, more reserved. His warm smile could melt ice. They’d spoken a bit about his life in Australia and how he met the other Chris when they were on Diego Garcia, a tiny atoll in the Pacific. It was there he garnered a better perspective on life, friendships and love. She reasoned that war tended to do that to a person.

She looked at him again, admiring what she saw. He was gorgeous. If only she were a femme fatale like her friends. She pictured grabbing him by the scruff of his collar and planting a long seductive kiss on his pouty lips. Anything to ease the tension between her legs and the moisture dripping from her swollen pussy.

Golden and sun-kissed like a surfer, he had a look impossible to have around this time of year in Michigan, unless he spent countless hours in a tanning booth. But at the same time he didn’t look like the type who’d go to one. He seemed too rugged. She glanced at his short, flaxen hair, which he wore pulled back in a stubby tail. It accentuated his keen facial features. His physique, like that of a gladiator, made her want to whimper. Built like a brick wall without being too thick, he was three words—supple, etched, steel. And his Australian accent added to his raw sexiness.

Whereas Chris S. was the perfect picture type of the all-American, boy-next-door type, with light brown hair and sandy-colored tips and eyes so blue they looked like the color of tropical water. He reminded her of the high school captain of the football team who’d gone into the military and become a man, except he had a sensitive edge that permeated his being. While Chris P., who looked like he could take on a few guys at once, was more lighthearted and outgoing.

Either way, she knew she hit the jackpot because both guys were like something out of a magazine called Hot Guys “R” Us. They were a perfect ten. It was best Christmas gift anyone could have ever given her. She hoped a Chris Sandwich was definitely on the menu for the night. But how to get past the talking stage, she had no clue. She wondered if all of her Love Play’s match ups started like this.

Wearing some leggings and a cami, and he a T-shirt and shorts, she suddenly felt overdressed. The art of seduction was not something they taught in any of the schools she’d attended, and she sure as hell never picked up any pointers from her so-called “friends.” And her exes never gave her any encouragement in that department either.

This date should have come with instructions. I think I’m in trouble.

She let out a long sigh.

“Did you say something?” Chris P. asked, stirring from his long silence.

“I was just thinking how beautiful this place is,” she lied. What? How lame is that?

“It is. I’ve never been to a place quite like this.”

“Love Play has quite a reputation.”

“You’ve used it before?” He perked up, facing her.

Heat burned her cheeks. “No. It’s what I heard from some of their clients.”

“So have you been married?” he asked.

“No.”

“Neither have I. Never found anyone to get serious with,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t know. Maybe cupid’s arrow doesn’t work on me.”

“For me they’re defective. Or maybe his aim is bad,” she said, trying to suppress the memory of her ex-boyfriend.

“What do you mean?”

“My relationships, they never work out.” She shrugged her shoulders. “For whatever reason, they seem to choose my friends over me. Or it ends up that way once we get together.”

He shook his head. “Nah. They were bad blokes from the start. Believe me. I know. I’ve been around those types my entire life. The randier they are, the worse they will be. If a man wants you, he’ll stay.” His tone was soft, almost vulnerable.

“Maybe.”

“So tell me,” he said, turning to face her, “you ordered this hook up?”

Again, her face flushed. She imagined it turning its characteristic red when the blood rushed to her cheeks.

“Yes. But according to the guidelines, you would have either had to be open to it or requested it too. Right?”

He chuckled. “I see he also got the smart I asked for. Yes, I am open to a ménage.” His expression became serious. “Do you think me odd?”

“No. I’m glad we share that desire.”



ADULT EXCERPT

Chris S. slipped her undies over her round hips. They slid down her baby-like skin, exposing her shaved mound. More blood flowed to his dick, making whimper.

“God,” he said, fighting tears.

Through gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes, he forced himself to maintain control. It was getting to be damn near impossible. Everything about her was fucking outstanding. Lips, breasts, skin and pussy. He was ready to fill her pussy with his thick, hard dick.

He slid his finger into the folds of her wet interior. The thin crease surrounded by supple labia oozed moisture from her tight and tiny hole. He slid a finger inside her hole, and her taut muscles quivered at his touch.

“You want it?” he asked.

She moaned “yes” before being silenced by the other Chris’s mouth. He inched her legs apart. Moving in just right, he tasted her. Explosions went off in his brain. She was pure, simple, clean and honeyed. He wanted to mark her as his own. Delving his tongue in and out of her tight hole, he held her still, allowing her juices to saturate his mouth.

Lifting her legs, he opened her wider, curling her upward, burying his face in her mound. His breaths increased as his heart rate grew frantic. His hard dick, standing at full scale attention, threatened to bust a nut if he didn’t stop.

Pulling away, he set her down gently. “Got to go get a condom.”

The other Chris looked up, his eyes equally as dazed as he felt.

She swallowed, seeming breathless. “My bag, by the wall.”

The time for being cool had passed. Quicker than he’d wanted and less suave, he dashed toward it, finally seeing the stash. Grabbing the entire lot, along with a bottle of lubricating gel, he opened the box and pulled out two, handing one to Chris and keeping the other for himself. Setting it aside, he removed his shorts, exposing his aching dick to the room’s cool air. He grimaced as he slid the latex over his shaft. It hurt with a pain that would only be relieved by what Jilly had to offer. He squeezed the gel, which had the scent of strawberries, onto his palm. He fisted his hand and soaked his condom-wrapped rod with the smooth, thick liquid. The mere pressure of his hand gave him some relief, albeit short.

“Me first,” he said, climbing onto the bed.

Calming himself, he lay down beside her and turned her on her side. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close. He spread her legs apart as she tilted her pelvis back. She melded her body to his. There was so much of her he wanted, not only her body, but her soul, mind, and yes, even her heart.

He took a hand and placed himself at her entrance. Slowly he pushed inside. He grunted and made himself hold back, lest he spill at that moment.

She was so tight. No doubt about it. This was going to be a short run. Inch by inch, he slid inside of her, stopping at the root. His balls drew in tight. He shifted her close and moved in and out slowly. Each movement became stronger as his control slipped. He needed the release, the kind that would give his aching balls sweet relief. Back and forth his hips moved inside her. She wriggled and moaned in response. Their mouths met briefly, tongues swirling, causing his stomach and heart to flutter. He increased his thrusts. Finding his target, she keened her delight.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Don’t stop.”

She pushed her ass toward him.

“Baby, I’m going to come.”

“Come, honey. Come.”

He grunted, harder and harder. Sliding his hand down to her hard clit, he rubbed it as his panting increased. Pressure built up behind his eyes, his mind went blank as everything in the world seemed to fall away. He couldn’t stop. Harder and harder he pushed, holding her firm and tight.

With light speed, he cried out, “God!” His hips bucked upward while cum poured out of him.

Slightly dizzy, he held onto her before letting her go. “Are you all right?”

Her kiss eased the butterflies threatening to kill the moment. Sliding out of her, he sighed, relieved. He gazed into her eyes. Instantly he felt the completed connection he’d sensed along. She was the one. And he saw that she felt it too.


* * * *

Jilly recovered her breath as Chris P. gathered her up into his arms. His musky scent was so spicy and inviting. She buried her face in the crook between his shoulder and neck. She was ready.

“On your back,” he said, holding her.

She nodded.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he said, whispering in her ear.

From her tall Adonis, she was ready to receive all he gave her. Trust welled up within her heart. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

Placing her on back like she weighed nothing but a feather, he positioned himself on top of her. A lock of his blond hair obscured his face. She opened her legs. She felt his solid, round tip prod her hole. Panting, he pushed inside of her, his raw strength causing her pussy to clench. Each muscle spasmed to accommodate his thick and meaty cock. She cried out along with him. He braced himself.





 GIVEAWAY ALERT!! Clare will be giving away an e-copy of  COLD WARRIORS to someone who comments. Be sure to include your email address in your comment to enter.

Monday, January 12, 2015

How Open-Minded Are You?


How open-minded are you? 

You know, it's easy to look at someone, and yet, actually look straight through them. What do you see when you see a person in a wheelchair? Do you even see the person? Or just the chair?

How do you refer to a person in a wheelchair? Do you use terms such as Disabled, Handicapped, Physically Challenged, or Mobility Impaired? You know, a person can be in a wheelchair for any number of reasons.

I know someone in a wheelchair. He prefers not to be labeled as "Disabled", "Handicapped", or "Physically Challenged". To him, those words have a negative connotation. He tolerates the phrase Mobility Impaired.


I challenge you to open your eyes, and your mind. No. I'm not saying dash up to a person in a wheelchair and offer unwanted help. I'm just saying, "Open your eyes, and your mind. Be aware that a person is sitting there."

In my new release, the hero, Craig Johnston, is a paraplegic.

Give Away Alert!! Mickie will be giving away an e-copy of her new book, Christmas Crush to someone who comments. Be sure to include your email address in your comment to enter.


CHRISTMAS CRUSH

Blurb:
Although Ashley Wagner feels more like Scrooge than Santa, she keeps her promise and accompanies her sister back home for a Christmas wedding. Her three-day weekend is off to a rocky start, thanks to the unexpected run-in with her womanizing ex-husband, and his very pregnant new wife. She manages to get away with her dignity intact, but later, with old wounds ripped open, the professional crisis manager ends up in the middle of her own life-altering predicament.

Then, sports journalist Craig Johnston, wheels to her rescue.
Will Ashley spend Christmas brooding over bitter memories? Or will Craig, a dynamic paraplegic, present the deserving divorcée with a gift she can't resist?

Excerpt:
Driven to perfect his sports news piece, Craig glanced from his laptop to the telephone when it rang. In a way, he was glad for the interruption. The knot in his neck said he’d been hard at work for hours. “Yeah?”
“There are two ladies here to see you.” The female voice on the phone advised.
Since the station operated on a skeleton crew because of the holiday, the call was from the security officer in the building’s lobby. Adjusting the rolled up sleeve of his white shirt, he asked, surprised, “Visitors to the station on Christmas Eve, Donna?”
“They say it’s about this morning.”
Those words commandeered his attention. “This morning?” He slapped down the cuff of both sleeves. “I’m on my way.” Quickly, he buttoned them, pushed back from the desk, then rushed from the office. His door shut with a bang. Craig took the hallway to the elevators, almost running down a co-worker when he turned the corner.
“Hey! Where’s the fire, Craig?”
“Sorry,” was all he had time to say as he continued on his way.
The elevator seemed to take a long time to arrive. Finally, the doors opened, and he dashed to board.
Memories flooded back to him on the ride down. Craig remembered how he recognized the woman was in trouble. Her luminous eyes held a faraway look. Nevertheless, in no way did that obscure their charismatic beauty. He reminisced about the cottony soft skin of the hand he held.
The elevator bell dinged.
Abruptly, he was a bundle of nerves. Big, strong, athletic sportsman, Craig Johnston experienced something he hadn’t in years—immediate infatuation—for a stranger, no less.
Chances of a slow reveal past as the security officer beckoned in his direction. The two pivoted together. Their resemblance was so remarkable. Although one appeared slightly older, he surmised a familial relationship. The younger one failed in her attempt to hide what he assumed was pity and alarm. His wheelchair probably caused her reaction. The woman he rescued never batted an eye of surprise. To his amazement, he watched her stroll over. A majestic smile curved her luscious-looking lips.
“I’m Ashley Wagner.” She extended her hands to him. “I believe you’re the one I should thank for being so kind to me this morning.”
Taking her outstretched hands, Craig looked at her. No longer in a rush, he took time to analyze Ashley. A feeling, akin to this morning’s enchantment, zapped him. “Are you all right?”
At that point, Ashley’s action mystified him. Craig watched her close her eyes. But, she never removed her hands from his fingers.
“Ask me that question again,” she urged.
Baffled, he obliged. “Are you all right?”
“That voice.” Her eyes reopened. They seemed to shower him with a joyful gaze. “I would recognize that chivalrous rumble anywhere.” Ashley squeezed his hands as if to impart power to her gratitude. “It is you.”

Purchase Christmas Crush at:


Author, Mickie Sherwood

I'm a cruise-loving, people-watching, picture-snapping baby boomer with time on my hands. So, I create sweet, and spicy relationship-based, mainstream contemporary, and romantic love stories.

Find me at:

Thanks to TRR for sharing my newest romance.

Monday, December 15, 2014

Coming Home by Tracy Garrett

COMING HOME is here!

Do you remember the first time you were in a new place or met a new person and felt you belonged, that you’d finally come home? Maybe it’s a new house, where you walked in the front door and said to yourself, “This is what I’ve been looking for.” Mine was the first date with my future husband. I knew this man was my “home” no matter where life took us—and it’s taken us quite a few places!

In my short story, COMING HOME, Jericho Hawken meets Maryland Henry and her three nieces and knows he’s found what he’s been searching for. But there are some big boulders in their path to happiness.

I’m so happy to share that Coming Home has been released as an electronic short story for only .99! [It was first released as part of the Hearts and Spurs anthology from Prairie Rose Publications.]

Here’s a little taste:



COMING HOME:  Sometimes it takes two to make dreams come true.

When a man who believes he’ll never have a home and family…
Former U.S. Marshal Jericho Hawken should have been shepherding a wagon train to new territory, but he unwillingly left them vulnerable to a vicious raider. The murder of the settlers he was supposed to be guarding is the hardest thing he’s ever had to face…until he meets the sister of one of the settlers.

…finds a woman who has lost everything…
Instead of a joyous reunion with her brother, Maryland Henry has come to River’s Bend to take responsibility for her three orphaned nieces. Fired from her teaching position and with no other family on whom to rely, Mary believes Jericho Hawken is responsible for all her woes. Or is he what she’s been searching for all along?

It takes a lot of forgiveness and a few fireworks to realize that together their dreams can come true.


Excerpt:
Jericho met her gaze. “I was hired as extra security for their wagon train and was assigned to ride with the group of wagons they traveled in. I spent a lot of nights at your family’s fire on the trip out from Saint Louis. Your brother and his wife were kind and generous people.”
He watched Mary’s throat work as she battled back tears that made her blue eyes seem huge in her pale face. When she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, he knew his time for avoiding the truth was over.
“What happened, Mr. Hawken?”
Self-loathing threatened to choke him. “I’m not sure.”
She glanced at Matt, then returned her piercing gaze to Jericho. “I don’t understand. Did it happen at night? Was it too dark for you to see?”
He gulped down the liquid in his glass and carefully set the crystal aside when he wanted to hurl it against the stone hearth. “I wasn’t there.”
“Where—”
“I was in jail.”
The tiny bit of color the brandy had given her drained away. “What!”
“You can’t hate me more than I despise myself, Miss Henry.” He rose and prowled the room. “I saw—someone I knew. From my past. Someone I thought never to lay eyes on again. It’s no excuse, but I got drunk. When the law decided I needed to extend my stay in their little town, the wagons went on without me. I followed as soon as they let me go. I was only a couple of hours behind, but… It was one hour too long.”

I’m giving away an electronic copy of COMING HOME to one reader who leaves a comment today.

Coming Home will be released on DECEMBER 4. Find me on Facebook (TracyGarrett.author), Twitter (TGarrett_author) or stop by my website, www.TracyGarrett.com, to keep up on what’s new. And thanks for visiting today!

Tracy



BUY LINKS: Only 99 cents
Smashwords--  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/497634
Barnes & Noble 


TRACY GARRETT

BIOGRAPHY:

Award-winning multi-published author Tracy Garrett has always loved to disappear into the pages of a book. An accomplished musician, Tracy merged her need for creativity, love of history, and passion for reading when she began writing western historical romance. First published in 2007, Tracy joined the Prairie Rose Publications in its inaugural anthology in 2013. She is a regular blogger on Petticoats and Pistols. Tracy resides in Missouri with her husband and their fuzzy kid, Wrigley.