(The) Writing Life: Kindle Backlist Book Available.

 

THE FORBIDDEN BRIDE

The wild Cornishman, descendant of a Crusader and a Saracen's daughter, exiled to America. The young woman, hidden away in a rough gold mining town in North Carolina, forbidden by her autocratic father to ever marry.

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Writing (about) Life: Christmas 2015

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, Everyone! (This is how you get two stacks of books up off the floor.)

The Writer's Cat--Or More Accurately, The Cat's Writer

Many of us writers are owned by cats. Let me introduce you to my Feline Boss, Carl (aka Bubby). He is a pre-owned model, and for months I was never sure who owned him. He began to visit, especially when I wrote outside, often joining me on the swing or on the glider or under my chair for a quiet snooze. (Writers can be notoriously boring--and apparently restful.) But he liked a little excitement, too, because he'd follow the DH around as he did assorted yard work and/or car maintenance. Visitors kept saying, "I didn't know you had a cat." And I would say, "I don't," and they would say, "I don't think he knows that." So I began identifying him as The Cat I Don't Own--despite the fact that I would feed him. And I began calling him "Carl." (I'll show you a photo of why that was later--it has to do with the Geico Insurance commercial and "Carl," the lion.) Eventually, though, the mystery began to unravel. He belonged to the Navy-Marine military family next door. (He may look like a big old orange cat, but I think he's really a "Devil Dog." Dogs try to chase him, and he either ignores them or chases them back.) His military mom, who is active duty, was reassigned, and where they were going, he couldn't go. So I said I'd take him--and I haven't regretted it for a minute, despite his rabid interest in the writing process. So this is Carl, aka Bubby, The Cat I Now Own. (Sort of.)

Writing (About) Life...

Hot summer day
Bride-to-be carrying her wedding dress
in a big black bag
Our glances cross
We both smile...

ON SALE--Kindle Version of THE CAPTIVE HEART

ON SALE: $1.99

From Library Journal

When her British officer husband's murderous deeds and his affronted dignity result in Hannah Elway's capture by the Cherokee as retribution, her only hope of staying alive is Five Killer (Robert McLarn), a half-Scot Cherokee brave, a man who was once rejected as a suitor by Hannah's father and who has, in turn, rejected his white heritage. But now, with an agenda of his own, Five Killer is forced to walk a dangerous line between love and betrayal as he works both to honor his word and save the people he loves. A study in cultural contrasts, this well-written, vividly descriptive tale skillfully juxtaposes the "savage" with the "civilized" and allows the reader to draw some occasionally unexpected conclusions. Realistic historical and cultural detail, a sensitively handled romantic relationship, a heroine who strengthens with the story, and a hero who comes to terms with his two cultures combine in a sensual, emotionally involving romance that is both brutal and tenderDand satisfying. Reavis (The Long Way Home) is a multi-RITA Award-winning author and lives in North Carolina.
Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc.

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Here's The Situation From This Writer's POV...

I do not buy Followers.

I do not buy Friends.

I do not buy 5-star reviews.

(Image by xXRunawayRobinXx)

The Real Memorial Day

Memorial Day isn't a "holiday." It was intended to be a day of solemn remembrance, one dedicated to those who made the ultimate sacrifice for this country, a sentiment which has gotten completely lost in the blatant commercialization that now surrounds it. This day is not about picnics and barbecues and the beach. It's about unlived lives. It's about the young men and women who did their duty and who never came home. The price of Freedom is always buried in the ground, and our duty on this day is not to let them be forgotten.

The photograph above is of a cousin's grave in the Henri Chapelle Cemetery in Belgium.

(The) Writing Life--THE CAPTIVE HEART

THE CAPTIVE HEART has been resurrected and tweaked, given a new cover, and Kindle-ized. It is now available on amazon. 

This is the Library Journal review when it was first published:

"...A study in cultural contrasts, this well-written, vividly descriptive tale skillfully juxtaposes the "savage" with the "civilized" and allows the reader to draw some occasionally unexpected conclusions. Realistic historical and cultural detail, a sensitively handled romantic relationship, a heroine who strengthens with the story, and a hero who comes to terms with his two cultures combine in an...emotionally involving romance that is both brutal and tender, and satisfying..."

For more info, the amazon link is HERE.

The Early Christmas Stranger

I always think of her this time of year--December 23, to be exact--hence the word "Early." It was on a night very much like this one. There was a cold, gloomy drizzle and low-lying fog--it didn't feel "Christmas-y" at all despite the Rudolph song.

And this is how the story goes:

She was my family's slightly early Christmas Stranger. She arrived on our doorstep on Christmas Eve eve many years ago, and we, my mother and I, can no longer remember her name. It was so dark out that night--no street lights where we lived. My mother was sewing my angel robe for the Christmas Eve pageant at church, and my little sister was just a baby. The pounding on our front door was so abrupt and urgent that I was afraid for my father to open it, and even more afraid of the young girl who tried to duck under his arm when he did. She was barefoot and crying, begging to be let in.

She lived in Charlotte, she was eventually able to say, and she'd been on her way to a party her father had forbidden her to attend, something she regretted even before they had gotten lost and the boy behind the wheel had become too drunk to drive. He had lost control of the car she and a number of party-goers were in and they ended up in a ditch. They managed to get the car out, but they drove off and left her in the dark, not knowing, not caring whether she was hurt or not. "Leave her!" one of them said, and so they did. She had no money. No way home. No shoes.

My mother searched her closet to find some shoes for her -- gray suede penny loafers that were a couple of sizes too big. Getting her home was a little more difficult. We all piled into the car--a 1950 green Ford coupe--and took her to the bus station in Salisbury nine miles away. I remember how strange I felt, wearing my winter coat over my flannel, nursery-rhyme print nightgown.

I didn't get to go to town very often at night, and at that time of year it was dazzling with Christmas lights, the kind you don't see anymore. Everything was so beautiful -- a real treat despite the strange young girl in the car who was trying not to cry.

My father bought her a bus ticket to Charlotte -- which literally took all the money he had -- and he insisted that we would wait with her and make sure she got on the bus. I don't think he trusted her decision-making at that point. It seemed to take forever for the bus to arrive, but eventually it came. She got on it, and that was that. She rode out of our lives and we never saw her again, never heard from her. But I always think of her and wonder what happened to her and whether she ever thought of us in return.

So I'm wishing her -- and all of you -- a very Merry Christmas and a Happy Holiday Season.

SPECIAL AMAZON PROMOTION

Beginning today, the Kindle version of PROMISE ME A RAINBOW will be available for $1.99 throughout the month of December.

The book was a RITA finalist for Best Single-Title Contemporary Romance the year it was published, and there is a smidgen of Christmas in it. It's also one of my personal favorites.

From the Publishers Weekly review: "...delicately crafted, eminently satisfying romantic fiction. Reavis works magic..."

HERE IS THE LINK.