Descriptions for heat levels in book list

------holding hands, perhaps a gentle kiss
♥♥ ---- more kisses but no tongue-- no foreplay
♥♥♥ ---kissing, tongue, caressing, foreplay & pillow talk
♥♥♥♥ --all of above, full sexual experience including climax
♥♥♥♥♥ -all of above including coarser language and sex more frequent

Sunday, March 2, 2014

A short story for an anthology

With our short story anthology, Rawhide 'n Roses due out March 15th with a paperback soon after, I wanted to mention something about my own story for it. I took three characters from my Arizona historical romances. Two are central to this story and one comes in as a bit of a surprise. It's someone I have someday felt might warrant a book to tell more of the story.

This one though is about a character I had liked in Tucson Moon. The short story was a chance to do more with her character. I might not have seen the last of her or her husband as I do like keeping secondary characters around.


In this historical romance, set in 1889, Connie has followed her gambler husband, Del from boom town to boom town as he looks for places he can have enough players at his tables to support them. Finding herself in a small, mining town in California's high Sierras, because of the fear some have that she is a witch, she faces a threat to her life and more importantly to that of her beloved husband.

When someone has psychic powers, powers to heal, is it a curse or gift; and how should they use such special abilities? Those are the questions probed in this short story. It also asks the questions might such gifts come and go?

Excerpt:
       A rock crashed through the parlor window, shattering glass over the frayed Oriental rug. The yell followed right behind it. “Get out of here, witch.”
Although it wasn’t winter and the high Sierra air wasn’t that cold, Connie Sicilla shivered. She moved to the wall where she’d not be seen as the shouts continued for long moments.
“We know what to do with your kind!”
“Get out of town!” Was that voice a child’s. Somehow that seemed even more frightening. She was unsure how long it went on as she tried to find peace through meditating and not hearing the hateful words, some with curses accompanying. After what seemed long moments, she realized the voices had stopped.
She gritted her teeth against the temptation to cry, got her dustpan, went down on her knees, and carefully retrieved all visible shards of glass. How would their landlord regard the damage? Would he expect Del and her to pay for it?
 

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