Monday author Meetup: Lena Goldfinch


My guest this week is sweet historical romance author Lena Goldfinch.

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About the author:

LENA GOLDFINCH writes heartwarming sweet historical romance and books for teens. She loves vintage quilts, antiquing, and horses. She lives with her husband, two children, and two very spoiled black Labs. Lena’s always been fascinated by people, especially people in transition. She loves to write about characters who have to face a challenge and dig deep to accomplish a goal, whether to solve a mystery, save the day, or simply find love. (Ha! Simply! ;))

Now let’s put the spotlight on Lena’s book:

THE UNEXPECTED BRIDE

Book One in The Brides Series, Sweet Historical Western Romance

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“With unexpectedly fresh characters and twists, the imagination is kept on its toes, even while feeling entirely comfortable with the familiarity of the mail-order bride storyline…a great curl-up-on-a-cold-night read, so go grab a copy for yourself!” –Serena Chase, USA TODAY Happy Ever After

BLURB:

What’s a man to do when his father orders him a bride?

Rebecca Sullivan has been “Becky” all her life, a real hoyden. Her childhood sweetheart taught her to ride bareback and shoot a rifle, but then he chose a “perfect lady” for a wife–a real Southern belle, who’s now expecting a baby. Heartbroken, Becky signs up to be a mail-order bride to a Seattle man, sight unseen. She resolves to squelch her hoydenish ways and become a “perfect lady” for her future husband.

If logging-operation owner Isaac Jessup had wanted a bride, he’d have chosen a sturdy frontier woman, not some fragile lady from back East. Ready to explain the mistake, honorable Isaac takes one look into Rebecca’s vulnerable eyes…and knows he’ll marry her, even though this delicate waif is obviously unsuited for wild Seattle.
Could an unexpected marriage be a match made in heaven?

EXCERPT:

The lean-to was chilly and not for the first time, Isaac considered boarding it up proper and calling it a barn. He sat on the stool and began milking the goat, all the while mentally preparing for the worship service they planned to go to later that morning. The Scriptures he’d read first thing that morning were fresh in his mind, and his prayers kept returning to the problem of Rebecca. One inner voice urged him to send her back home, but another voice spoke of commitment. He’d said vows before God to love and keep her till death do them part. Those weren’t words he was willing to dismiss lightly.

“What’s her name?” Her voice was suddenly in his ear, quite close.

Isaac jumped. The goat bleated at him.

“Sorry, girl.” He patted her side and resumed milking her with slow, careful hands. He glanced over his shoulder toward the subject of his thoughts.

Rebecca stood watching him, leaning over the rail and peering in at them with curious eyes. He was surprised to see her out this early. She usually left him to his morning chores, and most times he’d get back inside the cabin and find her already up preparing breakfast.

“What’s her name?” she repeated.

“Name? The goat?” He looked at the goat dumbly. It was a goat. He’d never gotten much further than that. She gave them a daily supply of milk, but other than that she was generally a nuisance. She liked to butt down the stall door. And whenever she got loose, she’d eat what few vegetables he was able to grow in the summer. She also liked to nip at his shirts and underthings when he hung them out on the line–if he was lucky. Most times she’d tug the whole line down and drag it through the mud.

“Yes, the goat,” Rebecca said, a pleasant-sounding smile in her voice. “Don’t tell me she hasn’t got a name?”

There was something nice about hearing a woman’s voice in the morning. It reminded him a little of when he was young, and his mother had chatted with him in soft tones while they ate breakfast. As if speaking too loud would jar them too quickly out of whatever dreams they’d had the night before.

Rebecca’s soft voice put him much in mind of those times.

“All right. I won’t.” Isaac focused on his milking.

“She doesn’t have a name?” Rebecca pressed. “How can you have an animal that doesn’t have a name?”

“Never gave it much thought. She’s good for milk, but other than that she’s nothing but trouble, always munching on the laundry.”

“Well, then I think your choice is clear. Either you call her Milky or you call her Trouble.” Her teasing tone brought a reluctant smile to his lips.

“Well, then, if I have to choose, then I guess she’s Trouble.”

The real Trouble was standing behind him, her elbow propped against the top of the rail, her chin cupped in one dainty hand.

The Unexpected Bride (Book One in the Brides Series)

Available in ebook and print:

Amazon / Kindle

Barnes & Noble / Nook

iBooks / iTunes

Kobo

Google Play

Find Lena online at:

www.LenaGoldfinch.com

@Lena_Goldfinch

https://www.facebook.com/LenaGoldfinchAuthor

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Monday Author Meetup: Kit Morgan


My guest today is best selling author of sweet historical romance Kit Morgan.

Kit Morgan

About the author: A consistent Top 100 lists bestseller, Kit Morgan, aka Geralyn Beauchamp, has been writing for fun all of her life. When writing as Geralyn Beauchamp, her books are epic, adventurous, romantic fantasy at its best. When writing as Kit Morgan they are whimsical, fun, inspirational sweet stories that depict a strong sense of family and community.

Welcome Kit! Let’s begin with you describing your favorite place to write.

I live in a log cabin on twenty acres with a creek. I like writing on a bench down by the creek. I also have chairs set up around the property where I can go sit and write. I use voice recognition software a lot, and many times just walk the property while I write.

Do you ever wear your PJs or nightgown all day while writing?

Haven’t done it … yet…

LOL There’s always a first time. I don’t suppose you ever write naked either, right?

Egads! People do that?!?!?!?!

Winking smile So I hear. Getting serious, have you ever written a book together with another author?

Yes, kinda sort of. Cassie Hayes, Kirsten Osbourne and I wrote a trilogy of sorts. We each took one of three identical triplet brothers, and wrote their story which was taking place at the same time the other brother’s stories are taking place. Was quite the chore coordinating scenes with each other and having that particular scene be told from our character’s viewpoint.

That does sound challenging. What project(s) are you working on now?

Book 11 of my Holiday Mail Order Bride Series (book one is The Christmas Mail Order Bride and is a freebie on amazon if one hasn’t discovered the series yet), and another trilogy book.

A freebie, oh goodie! Mind telling us how you unwind and relax when not writing?

Ironically by reading! I’ve also gotten into listening to audio books lately which are a lot of fun!

Do you play any sports? What about hobbies?

I’m a hiker, and love a good trail! Also a flute player (I was an opera major with a flute minor in college) and of course biking!

Opera, wow! You are very versatile! Back to writing, are you a plotter or a pantser? Why?

Definite panster! Though I might have a slim outline just so I know kinda sort what direction I’m going, it often still takes a turn and I’m writing wildly along! But the story always turns out great!

Tell us about your latest release.

My latest release is book ten of The Holiday Mail Order Bride Series: His Mail-Order Valentine. I love creating towns and their quirky, odd residents. Independence is no exception. Readers are first introduced to this town in Love In Independence, where one is introduced to the antics of Mercy, Martha, and Maude, three matrons of trouble! And they create plenty when they order a mail-order bride for the new town pastor, and fail to tell him! You can start this particular series with The Christmas Mail-Order Bride, or start in with Love in Independence and go from there. The books can be found on amazon:

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The Christmas Mail Order Bride http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00FVGRX9O

Love in Independence: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00L83QEHG

His Mail Order Valentine: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SZNUM20

And if you’re interested in the trilogy you can find it here: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00R0PZEEK

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Book Blurb for Love in Independence:

They say love covers a multitude of sins, and for matchmakers Mercy, Martha, and Maude, it’s a good thing! Fearing the town’s new pastor is lonely, they decide to take matters into their own hands, and order him a mail order bride! Imagine his surprise when he finds out? Only he doesn’t! Mercy, Martha, and Maude see to that!

Winnie Longfellow has spent years caring for her sick mother, and now that she’s passed, has nowhere to go but her Aunt Eugina’s. But her aunt has other things on her mind, other problems to deal with, and so Winnie accepts a proposal from a pastor out west looking for a mail order bride. Little did she know, he was looking for so much more, anything more! He had no idea he’d sent for one! Now Winnie finds herself at the mercy of three madcap matrons, determined that love will find a way. Despite multiple misunderstandings, a horrid bully/gossip, and a woman she’s sure her intended will marry instead of her, Winnie discovers some things about herself, and finds that love really does find its way …

Excerpt:

“More tea, Mrs. Vander?” Betsy the cook/maid asked.

“Why, thank you, Betsy. Don’t mind if I do.” Betsy poured her another cup before she moved on to the guests.

“I think we should write the young lady back and accept,” suggested Martha.

“Let’s not be too hasty. What about other applicants?” asked Maude. “Has anyone else written?”

“No, Mrs. Ridgley sent a note along with the letter,” Mercy told her. “It says Miss Longfellow is the only bride available. If we reject this one, who knows how long we’d have to wait for another to come along.”

Maude set down her teacup and sighed. “Very well, then. Martha, take a letter.”

“Why do I have to take a letter? I wrote the last one.”

“Betsy dear?” Mercy asked. “Would you mind?”

“No, ma’am.” Betsy set down the teapot and went to a small desk near the fireplace. She took out a piece of stationery, picked up a pen, dipped it in an inkpot, and turned to her employer.

“Isn’t she a dear?” Mercy asked her friends. “I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Betsy fought the urge to roll her eyes.

Maude turned to her. “Dear Miss Longfellow,” she dictated. “I think you’d make me a very happy man …”

“Should he sound so eager?” interrupted Martha. “The word ‘happy’ makes him sound too eager.”

“A man out here ought to be eager for a wife,” countered Mercy. “Any wife!”

“She’s going to make him happy, and what woman wants to marry a grump?” added Maude.

Betsy sat and stared at the three, her mind racing to decipher who the women were talking about. If she were a man, she’d think twice before letting a group of old biddies attend to something as private as his personal love life. What idiot let himself get talked into allowing them the task of obtaining a mail-order bride?

“Betsy,” her employer called across the room. “Leave in the word ‘happy’.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Betsy scribbled it down.

“My dear Miss Longfellow,” Maude began again. “Ah, let’s see, a happy man, yes … ah ha! And I think we shall be very happy together. You’ll be a fine addition to the church and community.”

Mercy stared at her. “That’s not very romantic.”

Betsy shook with suppressed laughter. The poor sap they’d suckered was even letting them answer his bride’s letter for him? Was he off his rocker? Who was this man?

“Romance is irrelevant at this point,” Maude snapped. “The important thing is to have her delivered … I mean, shipped out … brought here …”

“We all know what you meant,” Martha stated as she reached for her cup. “Which of us is she going to stay with when she arrives? We can’t just spring her on the poor man.”

“Why not?” asked Mercy.

Betsy’s mouth dropped open as her eyebrows rose in amusement. Was she saying what she thought she was saying?

“Pastor Luke has a lot on his plate – we have to be considerate of that,” added Maude.

Betsy snorted with laughter and almost fell out of her chair. All three heads turned to her as she quickly righted herself and resumed her position.

“She can stay with us,” added Maude. “If need be, we can rotate until Pastor Luke and this Miss Longfellow marry.”

Betsy could stand it no longer. “What are you talking about? Can’t Pastor Luke send for this woman himself? He’s not that busy!”

“Oh no, that would never do!” Mercy exclaimed. “You see, he doesn’t …” She quickly glanced at her counterparts. They sat as stoically as ever. “That is to say … he can’t be bothered.”

Betsy stood. “Mrs. Vander?” she began, then looked at all three faces in turn. “Has Pastor Luke given his consent for you to do this for him?”

The matrons glanced at one another with fleeting looks. “Well …,” Mercy replied haltingly. “Like I said, he can’t be bothered with such trivial things right now.”

“Trivial? A bride is trivial?!” Betsy gasped.

“I must say, Mercy, your hired help’s respect is sadly lacking,” huffed Maude.

“Now, Betsy,” Mercy began in a panicked voice. “Promise us you won’t breathe a word about this to anyone? Especially Pastor Luke!”

Betsy was about to comment when Maude cut her off. “If you do, we’ll see you fired!”

“You’ll do no such thing!” Mercy squeaked indignantly. “Why, Betsy’s been with us since we came west from St. Louis!”

“Dock her pay, then!” countered Maude. “We’ve got to get this settled and done with. Who’s in charge of the train and stage tickets?”

“I am,” answered Martha. “I’ll go down to the station first thing tomorrow morning and purchase them.”

“It’s settled, then,” said Maude. “Betsy, sign that letter, Pastor Luke Adams.”

Betsy could only stare. “You three are some kind of trouble, and you’re gonna be in a heap of it if your husbands find out.”

“They aren’t going to find out, are they?” Maude said with her eyes narrowed to slits.

“Don’t look at me,” said Betsy. “I ain’t gonna be the one to tell them. Besides, they’ll find out just as soon as that mail-order bride steps off the stage and goes looking for poor Pastor Luke!”

“Then we’ll just have to make sure one of us is there to meet her so that doesn’t happen,” said Martha.

Betsy shook her head. “You do that, and good luck. Because once Pastor Luke finds out what you three have been up to …” She sighed. “… he’s gonna be preaching nothing but fire and brimstone every Sunday for a month!”

Find a complete list of Kit’s books on her website, as well as links to her Facebook page and twitter. You can also sign up for her newsletter and link to her alter ego, Geralyn Beauchamp’s website.

Kit Morgan | Bestselling Author of Sweet Historical Romance

Giveaway Nearly Over!


Dianne@DiiBylo

A little Spice with that #Suspense, please @LynHornerAuthor Rescuing Lara Spotlight & Giveaway http://tometender.blogspot.com/2015/02/lyn-horner-presents-rescuing-lara.html … pic.twitter.com/1b8nyHt1N4

 

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There’s Still Time to Win!


Yes, you can still win! Just stop by Tome Tender and enter. I’m giving away 4 copies of RESCUING LARA – 3 digital copies and one autographed print copy! tometender.blogspot.com/2015/02/lyn-ho…

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Giveaway & Spotlight on RESCUING LARA


Rescuing Lara is in the spotlight! Visit Tome Tender for details. Don’t forget to read Dianne’s glowing review while you’re there. She is among Amazon’s TOP 500 Reviewers!

http://tometender.blogspot.com/2015/02/lyn-horner-presents-rescuing-lara.html

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Kindle: http://amzn.to/1sSwh8y

Nook: http://bit.ly/13QMQey

Kobo: http://bit.ly/18RCy0C (cover not yet up)

In Print on these sites:

https://www.createspace.com/4498630

http://amzn.to/1DiGLG2

http://bit.ly/1ufjrqQ (Barnes & Noble)

Monday Author Meetup: Kathryn Albright


Today, it’s my pleasure to welcome Harlequin Historical author Kathryn Albright.

Aboutt theKathryn Albright Author:

Kathryn Albright writes American-set historical romance for Harlequin Historicals.

From her first breath, she has had a passion for stories that celebrate the goodness in people. She combines her love of history and her love of story to write novels of inspiration, endurance, and hope. She lives in a small town in the Midwest and has recently had the good fortune to leave her day job behind to become a full-time writer.

Visit her at www.kathrynalbright.com, on Facebook , Twitter, or Goodreads.

Inspiration for The Gunslinger and the Heiress

“I enjoy the history of my hometown, San Diego. Many of the unique facts I learn show up in my stories. 1888, the setting for The Gunslinger and the Heiress, was a time when Wyatt Earp owned three businesses in town, when the famous Hotel Del Coronado had its grand opening, and when a young boy appeared in town saying he had been living with pirates off the coast. No one believed him until he produced a few items from the stolen pirate booty. I also love reunion stories—the perfect blending with Caleb and Hannah from my first book, The Angel and the Outlaw.”

luxury resort

Hotel Del Coronado

Now, let’s put the spotlight Kathryn’s newest release:

The Gunslinger and the Heiress

9780373298150

Blurb:

Hannah Lansing, heir to a large shipping venture on the west coast, must discover the fate of her lost ships or marry to save the family business. Unfortunately, the one person that can help her is a man she once bitterly betrayed.

Caleb Houston still carries the scars of his last encounter with the Nob Hill princess although wild horses wouldn’t drag that fact out of him now. The sooner she gets her answers and leaves town, the easier he’ll breathe.

But when her digging unearths more than the missing cargo, disturbing a sleeping rattler, she becomes a target. And Caleb finds that guarding her life could mean he’ll lose his own heart.

Excerpt:

The strong odor of fish filled her nose. They were close to the wharf. Another block and the sparkling harbor water greeted them, along with one tall sailing ship and a steamer vying for a place at the long pier. Halfway down, passengers crossed over a slanted gangplank to board a ferry. Along with the people, several buggies were lined up to make the trip.

“What a hullaballoo,” Caleb muttered, and then startled her by grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the way of a man with a large barrel over his shoulder. With a surly look, Caleb let go as quickly as he’d gripped her. She nearly stumbled after his release. Glaring at his back, she followed in his wake as he maneuvered through the crowd on the boardwalk and led her out on to the wooden pier.

At the base of the ferry’s ramp, Hannah hesitated while Caleb continued up to the deck. The rocking of the boat brought back images she’d rather leave tucked away for good. Her heart started a scattered pounding in her chest as she gripped the railing with one hand. It had been her constant hope that she could escape this type of situation. A foolhardy hope, especially in her line of business, but a hope nonetheless. Even Grandfather had never suspected her fear, and here she would expose it to the one man she needed to appear strong before.

She stepped onto the wooden planks, forcing herself forward. First one foot, then the next. Concentrate on your breathing. Don’t look down. Act natural. It will be over soon.

Her heartbeat rushed in her ears. Her stomach roiled, and then a wave of dizziness hit her with the force of a northern gale. Halfway up the ramp she froze and locked both hands to the railing. Her knuckles whitened. Ten feet below, harbor water lapped steadily against the pier pilings, drawing her, pulling her She felt all over again her mother’s arms letting go, releasing her…then the water swirling…pulling Mother away.

“Hannah?” Caleb’s deep voice came from far away.

She couldn’t answer. Couldn’t break whatever had a hold on her. This was a mistake. She had to get to solid ground.

Turning abruptly, she hit a wall of satin-covered muscle. Caleb stood so close she could feel his body heat. His hands grasped her upper arms, steadying her. She stared at the shell button on his vest directly in front of her. “I…I don’t feel well,” she mumbled through numb lips.

“Can’t say all this hoopla thrills me either, but this is your party.” He grasped her elbow and put his other hand to her back, spinning her around to face the ferry. “Come on, Miss Lansing. Show some of that grit the Lansings are famous for.”

She swallowed hard, feeling the insistent push of his fingers against her spine.

Ten leaden steps and she was on the boat. Without taking a breath, she walked briskly to the center of the ferry and grabbed on to a solid-looking pole. Her heartbeat slowed to a more recognizable rhythm as she sucked in a deep, steadying breath.

Caleb studied her intently from a few feet away. “Brute force is not your best attribute, Mr. Houston,” she said, trying to regain her composure. She brushed off an imaginary piece of lint from her skirt to keep from meeting his gaze. When she felt sufficiently recovered, she looked up again.

He had the gall to smile. To smile! It was small, barely a hint of an upturn at the corner of his mouth, and then it was gone. “What was all that?” he asked.

“I already explained. I prefer land travel.”

His gaze hardened, and she had a feeling she’d stirred a hornet’s nest. He wanted more than a pat answer, more than a brush-off.

“You dropped this.” He held out her parasol.

Feeling foolish and embarrassed, she took it. He was looking out for her, she supposed, and she was grateful for that. The small steamer let loose with its shrill whistle, making her jumpy all over again.

“Boats never used to bother you. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“I don’t buy that. Not when I see you huggin’ that pole like a starfish hiding from a barracuda.” She clamped her lips together. She knew precisely when things had changed–the day she first spoke. Somehow, when the hypnotist had unlocked her voice, he’d also unlocked the memory of her mother’s drowning…and the overwhelming fear Hannah had felt at the time. It seemed, she couldn’t have one without the other.

He didn’t press further for an answer, but his gaze remained contemplative. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the scent of brine and feel of the breeze on her cheeks. The ship’s steam engine whined and clanged as it propelled the vessel across the harbor. She took comfort in the sound. As long as she heard it, she’d reach the other shore safely even if the ferry was moving at an abysmally slow crawl.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

His words washed over her. Safe. Comforting. She opened her eyes to find him watching her, the sea reflecting in his eyes, deepening the green. It would be nice to believe him, nice to be able to rely on him as she once had, but she knew she couldn’t. He was only with her because she was paying him.

She pressed her lips together and turned, staring over the white-capped water’s surface to the far dock, willing the shoreline closer, closer, closer….

To purchase Kathryn’s newest release click below:

Amazon

Harlequin

Barnes & Noble