Oh, The Waiting! by @KaraONealAuthor #RomanceGems

I have been waiting and waiting and waiting to write Pete's story and now it's finally here! MAGGIE'S SONG released yesterday, and I adore the cover. (My husband designs all of my covers.)

Pete has been a character in my series since my first book. He owns the livery, and he's also the town's blacksmith. When his likeness and demeanor grew in my mind over a decade ago, it was the famous hero, John Henry, that I saw. I've always loved John Henry, and writing a romance for a hard-working, giant of a man was something I couldn't wait to do. 

I hope I did him justice. In MAGGIE'S SONG, not only is he leading his community through a new endeavor, but he's slowly earning the trust of Maggie, a woman who has reasons to be wary of men. I love their story, but the best thing is Maggie's daughter, Iris. She's five and is all kinds of sweetness. 

You know, authors live with their characters for so long, that they become quite real. That's either crazy or dedicated. Not sure. Hopefully, the latter.

By the end of the story, Maggie becomes the bride she always wanted to be, but it takes a lot of courage on her part to get her there. (Takes a lot of Pete's courage, as well.)

I could ramble on forever about these characters, but, instead, I'll give you an excerpt.....

“You go on and see Pete, while I head over to Forrester’s to find Esther. You can ask him about the cupboards.”

Maggie froze. “But I don’t know where his shop is.”

Aletta laughed lightly. “Oh, child.” She pointed down the road. “It’s right there. Just past the sheriff’s office.”

Maggie turned and caught the shingle sporting black lettering proclaiming “Jerkin’s Livery and Blacksmith Services”. She gulped.

“I’ll fetch you in ten minutes,” her aunt said, leaving Maggie gaping on the boardwalk.

Ten minutes. Ten. With Pete. Whose eyes held nothing but warmth. Who looked fondly at Iris. Who’d kissed Maggie as if she were precious and all things to him. Oh, my.

She drew in a deep breath and forced herself to move. It took no time to reach the building that looked quite similar to a large barn. The double doors were propped open, and she could hear the pound of a hammer against steel. With her heart in her throat, she entered and found him immediately.

He bent over an anvil, his attention on whatever metal he shaped. His giant frame took up the area, his leather apron emphasizing the breadth of his chest and the power in his shoulders. She couldn’t take her eyes from him.

Something must have alerted him to her presence, because he looked up in mid-swing. “Maggie,” he breathed, sounding as if the sun had visited him and not just her lowly self. He put down his hammer. “Maggie,” he said again, coming around his anvil and breaking into a blissful smile.

“Hello, Pete.” She stayed where she was, unable to move, because all she wanted to do was fling her arms around his neck and spill all her secrets.

He stopped an arm’s length from her as he ran his gaze over her. “Are you well? Why are you in town?”

“We’re fine. Aletta, Esther and I needed a few items from Miller’s and Forrester’s.” When she kept her voice from trembling at his nearness, she realized she possessed a strength she didn’t know she had.

“You decided to stop by and see me, though? How nice.”

She felt her cheeks heat. “Oh, well, not exactly. Aletta wanted me to ask you a question.”

While his happiness at seeing her didn’t diminish, she sensed a change in his demeanor. She wouldn’t call it disappointment, though. Acceptance, maybe? But what was there to reconcile himself to? She gave herself a mental shake and continued. “She thinks the lower cupboards in the kitchen of the meeting house ought to be raised to four feet. George disagrees. What do you say?”

Pete’s brow furrowed in thought. “I wouldn’t want to raise them. Too many women wouldn’t appreciate that height. And if it’s really a problem, we could have a worktable for taller people.”

Surprise at his compromise distracted her from the tension inside her, and she breathed easier. “That’s a perfect solution. I’m sure Aletta will see the merits.”

He nodded once then a look she could only describe as pleasure came into his gaze. “I sure am glad to see you.”

“And I, you,” she rasped.

“Wanna help me shape a horseshoe?”

Bashful, she lowered her lashes. “I don’t know, I—”

“Come on.” He reached for her hand and pulled her forward. “It’s easy. I’ll be right there.”

She had no choice but to follow, and now the strain of being close to him resurfaced with a vengeance. She clammed up and allowed him to maneuver her in front of his anvil while he stood behind her. He took her basket from her and set it on the ground.

“Here.” He gave her the hammer. “Hold this.”

She took the handle and gasped at its weight. “I didn’t expect it to be so heavy.” She could carry it, but it was much more substantial than any cast iron pot.

“It’s got to be, in order to shape metal.” Using the tongs, he picked up the shoe he’d been working on when she’d walked in and put it back in the fire. After half a minute, he withdrew the iron, and it glowed red.

“All right,” he said, setting the metal on the anvil. “Here we go.”

He put his large hand over hers and helped her hit the shoe in the right place. The bang resonated up her arm. “Oh, goodness,” she exclaimed, but it was more from the feel of being surrounded by him. As she stood in the well of his arms, with his fingers wrapped around hers, desire shot through her like a cannon blast.

“Hit it a little harder this time,” he instructed.

She lifted the hammer, and with his guidance with aim, she pounded the metal with as much force as she could. This time the reverberations moved through her whole body. She gasped.

He laughed. “That’s the way. Give it another go.”

BUY MAGGIE'S SONG

Pike’s Run, Texas, 1883

In the dead of night, Maggie Nelson flees New Orleans with her five-year old daughter, Iris. Maggie can’t live with her abusive husband any longer and seeks safety in the home and arms of her aunt, Aletta Williamson in Bordersville, near Pike’s Run, Texas. When she arrives, surprising her dear aunt, Maggie tells her Haywood died. She is too ashamed to tell the truth about her marriage.

 Pete Jerkin, the town blacksmith and livery operator, is a leader in Bordersville. He is taken by Maggie and Iris, especially since the child doesn’t fear him. With his large stature, he usually puts off females and children. As Iris tugs on his heartstrings, his gaze strays to the lovely Maggie. But he’s promised himself he wouldn’t ever court a woman. Not again.

However, love is sneaky, and Pete can’t help himself. Neither can Maggie. As the weeks pass, she grows more scared each day that Pete will learn the truth about her husband, that Haywood will come knocking. And ruin everything.

If you're looking for more books to read over the summer, click here and you can enjoy many Historical Romances for FREE!!!! 

Needles and Thread by @KaraONealAuthor #RomanceGems

My husband's mother, sister and aunts are quilters.

Ok, that doesn't accurately describe them. They are masters. I've never seen such talent. They've placed in national contests and have won multiple awards. They teach classes, go on retreats and visit quilt stores in the smallest of towns.

They love their craft and thank goodness they do. It's wonderful that they have so much passion for an art that is hundreds of years old. Especially when there are machines that'll make quilts for you.

My family benefits from their talent as we have a ton of quilts. When Texas froze, we sure as heck didn't! Some of the quilts they've made for me hang on my wall because they're just too beautiful to fold up and put in a trunk.

Here's one of the first ones my mother-in-law made for me. It's a Log Cabin quilt. The colors are gorgeous, but the piecing around the star is amazing.

This next one my sister-in-law made. (Can you figure out that I like my state?) This one has such intricate quilting. You might be able to see the blue thread on the white part of the flag. She's won awards for her quilting.

And this last one is another that my sister-in-law made for me. I'm sharing it because all the fabrics she used were fabrics that were popular during the Civil War era. This one I fold up and lay across the end of my bed.

These are pieces of art, but more importantly, they have stories. And while they are stitched together, stories are told around them. I think one of the most lovely activities from the past are quilting bees. I'm so glad my family keeps this tradition alive.

I had to put this custom into one of my books, and my most current release, THE COWBOY'S EMBRACE, had the perfect moment. I've shared an excerpt below and an image of the square the heroine, Lily Spero, sews into the quilt.

It's so wonderful that these stitches, made by loving hands over countless hours, will carry on through the generations after me.

THE COWBOY'S EMBRACE

Lily Spero is searching for her stolen heritage, for a place in the world that is all her own. Sixteen years ago, she lost her parents and siblings to a villain on a white horse. Since, she's hungered for family, for that love she'd once known. When she visits the Swinging A Ranch, her past collides with her present, opening wounds long buried and shockingly creating hope where none had been before.

Deacon Tolbert is the foreman and a contributing partner to the Swinging A Ranch. He's carved a niche in the world all his own, finally feeling worthy of the goodness he's found for himself. But when Lily Spero arrives, the girl he abandoned years ago, he's forced to face the most gut-wrenching moment of his life.

Despite the pain, love surprises them and blossoms, bringing hope for the future. But the villain from the past comes to haunt them, to steal what they're trying to build. Deacon and Lily must brave vile evil in order to stay together, and fight with all they have to keep the promises they made to each other.

THE COWBOY'S EMBRACE: AN EXCERPT

Deacon cupped Lily's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze before continuing. “One of the ladies, Esther Epperson, asked if you’d have time to help sew a square onto a quilt the ladies are making, and I fear if you choose to listen to me speak to the men, you might cause a rift with the women.”

Lily wouldn’t dare slight the feelings of people she’d just met. "Of course. I'd love to help." She had hoped to be a help to Deacon, to assist him in finding words that would inspire the men of Bordersville to take the necessary steps for their race. But it was more important to make a connection with folks before she started blazing trails. “Besides, I’d like to contribute to the project. We ladies tell stories through our sewing.”

He ran his hand down her arm and looked at her with love.

“None of that now.” Esther marched toward them, her strides that of a general with a mission. Lily had a feeling she organized the neighborhood events and led the families of Bordersville through daily life.

“We don’t show our affection in public here,” the woman continued. “Least of all in front of the Sister Aunts.”

Hazel sucked air through her teeth and rolled her eyes. “You’re too young for that attitude. He could kiss her all he wants.”

The gleam in the older woman’s eyes made Lily chuckle and Deacon to take her up on her offer. He planted his lips on hers for a brief second then lifted his head and winked at the ladies. They tittered while he tipped his hat and sauntered away.

Esther harrumphed and muttered under her breath that his behavior was unfitting then took Lily by the elbow. “Come on in to my house,” she commanded, though not rudely. “I have tea and the quilt already set up.”

All the women followed her to a home in the center of the first row where some females already sewed. After making more introductions, Lily found a seat between Pixie and Ruth. The chances Lily would remember everyone’s name were slim, but she would try hard.

When Claire, a young girl around the age of fifteen, gave her a set of fabric squares, Lily took the offering. She ran her hands over the cream, purple and goldenrod colored material. As talk swirled around her, she thought about what she would make, what emotion she wanted to evoke. She recalled the times she’d sewn with her mother, and an idea formed that made love swell and not grief. Struck, she could only sit and soak up the feeling.

She took in the women around her, observed their closeness and happy expressions, and she let out an exhale.

“Are you all right, honey?” Miss Ruth asked her.

With contentment in her tone, Lily replied, “Yes, ma’am. I am.”

A knowing light entered the woman’s eyes, and she nodded once.

Lily then bent her head to her task, taking up a pair of scissors in order to cut a dove from the cream fabric square. The only detail her mother had ever shared with Lily about their escape from Mississippi had been that a dove, in one of Hannah and Matthew’s darkest hours, had led them to freedom. While Lily had wanted her to elaborate, her mother had chosen not to for reasons Lily believed she understood as an adult.

She could create her own version of the symbol. Because now she’d found peace and love. And belonging. Her heart quaked with the beauty of it.

BUY THE COWBOY'S EMBRACE

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