Monday, I sent the first of three holiday books I plan to release this fall off to my wonderful proofreaders.
Yesterday, I participated in a super-fun Christmas in July Facebook party.
Now… I’m starting to write the second holiday book.
I think, just maybe, I’m gettin’ in the mood for Christmas.
I thought you might enjoy a couple of teasers.
From the book I just started… the hero of our tale is Thane Jordan.
What do you think of his name?
And here’s my visual inspiration for the character…
The book I just sent off to the proofreaders is the sequel to The Christmas Cowboy.
The hero of the story is Cort McGraw. Those of you who read The Christmas Cowboy, met him as Tate Morgan’s best friend.
What you don’t know is what a cutie he is!
Here’s a little excerpt from Cort’s story. Enjoy!
Starting his truck, he waved as he drove past the house on his way down the driveway. Glancing at the directions Tate scribbled out for him, he tossed the paper on the seat and tapped the address into his GPS. In less than fifteen minutes, he turned off the road onto a bumpy driveway. Overhead, a “Hanging P” sign swung from a big pole entry archway that looked like it might collapse at any moment. Staring at the sign and entry gate, he hit a big pothole that made his head brush the top of the pickup cab as he bounced off the seat, nearly swallowing the toothpick in his mouth. Slowing down, he hoped his horses hadn’t been jostled too badly.
Pulling up in front of a sprawling ranch house, painted a blah shade of beige, he glanced around and saw a big red barn in need of a coat of paint, a corral fence in need of repair, and a yard in need of a good mowing.
Wondering what kind of man allowed his place to go like that, Cort took a deep breath and got out of the pickup, tossing aside his toothpick.
A big slobbering dog met him at the end of the walk. From the mottled color blending in an unappealing swirl across its back and sides, the over-sized mutt could have been a mixture of any number of breeds.
“Hey, dog, nice doggie,” Cort said softly as he let the dog sniff him. When it licked his fingers, he decided at least one occupant of the Hanging P Ranch would to be easy to win over.
Strolling down the sidewalk, he thought he glimpsed a childish face watching him in the window before a curtain blocked his view.
Taking the porch steps in two big strides, he rapped sharply on the door and waited. Turning his back to the door, he noticed a shed full of hay and a pasture beyond the fields full of fat cattle.
The house, sitting on a hill, had beautiful views of the surrounding farmland. Observing the landscape before him, he failed to hear the door open behind him.
“May I help you?” a soft voice asked, startling Cort.
Spinning around, he stared into a pair of eyes the color of a winter sky – so light blue they almost appeared translucent. Thick, dark lashes framed those amazing eyes and a soft fragrance floated around him, throwing his reeling senses into a tailspin.
Astonished to see a woman at the door, Cort found himself further distracted by her height and beauty. A long braid fell down her back, but wayward dark brown tendrils floated around the silky skin of her face.
His fingers itched to reach out and touch her cheek, so he took a step back and shoved his hands in his pockets.
Darn that Tate. He could have warned him Casey Peters had a beautiful wife.
“May I help you?” she asked again, looking up at him in question.
“Yes, ma’am. Tate Morgan sent me over. I’m looking for Casey Peters.” Cort swiped the hat from his head as he remembered his manners.
“You must be Mr. McGraw.” The woman held out a slim work-roughened hand his direction. He took it in his, surprised as much by her firm grip as the jolt that raced up his arm.
“I am. And you are…”
“K.C., not Casey…