Skip to main content

Lady Wynwood #7 early release Kickstarter

I worked on my first Kickstarter and it got approved! It’s for the Special Edition Hardcover of Lady Wynwood’s Spies, volume 1: Archer and the release of Lady Wynwood’s Spies, volume 7: Spinster. I contacted my graphic designer about the Special Edition Hardcover of vol. 1: Archer—it’s going to be SO beautiful! The Kickstarter focuses on the Special Edition Hardcover, but it’ll also include vol. 7: Spinster so that it’ll sort of be like a launch day for vol. 7, too. A third special thing that’ll be in the Kickstarter is Special Edition Paperbacks of all the books in the series. They won’t be available in stores, just in the Kickstarter (and later, from my website, and also in my Patreon book box tiers if I decide to do them). The Kickstarter is not live yet, but you can follow it to be alerted when it has launched. (You may need to create a free Kickstarter account.) Follow Camy’s Kickstarter

Street Team book list Excerpt - WILDFLOWER BRIDE by Mary Connealy

Here's another title added to my Street Team book list!

Want this book? Join my Street Team and for every 80 bookmarks you give away, pick two free books from my ginormous Street Team book list!

Wildflower Bride
by
Mary Connealy


Welcome to the wilds of Montana, where humor, romance, and suspense ride the range. Glowing Sun, a white woman raised by the Flathead tribe, has vague memories of her former life, including a name—Abby Lind. When she’s forced to sever all links with her adopted family, Abby wonders if she’ll ever find a home again. Tenderhearted Wade Sawyer, responsible for Abby’s survival during the village massacre, convinces the knife-wielding woman to return with him to the Sawyer Ranch, never realizing danger lurks behind every corner. Can they survive long enough to fall in love?

Excerpt of chapter one:

Chapter 1
Montana Territory, 1877
Gunfire jerked Wade Sawyer awake.
His feet hit the floor before he made a conscious decision to move. Grabbing his rifle mounted over the door, he rammed his back to the wall, jacked a shell into the chamber, and listened.
Another shot fired, then another. The volley went on and on. Many guns blazing.
Even as he figured that out, he realized the gunfire wasn’t close. Wade yanked the shack’s door open. In the heavy woods and the dim light of approaching dawn, there wasn’t much to see, but he knew the ruckus wasn’t aimed at him. It had another target, and from the direction of the sound, he knew what. . .or rather who.
Glowing Sun. And her village.
Already dressed because he slept in his clothes, he yanked his boots on. Snagging his heavily lined buckskin coat off the peg on the wall, he dashed toward his horse, yanking the jacket on while he ran.
Living in a meadow Wade had penned off, his chestnut gelding had his head up, alerted by the shooting, staring toward the noise. Wade lassoed the horse and had leather slapped onto the animal within two minutes. Wade swung up and slid his rifle into the boot of the saddle. Letting loose a yell that’d make a rebel soldier proud, Wade kicked his horse and charged toward death.
The shots kept ringing, echoing from the Flathead village set in the meadow high on the mountaintop.
His horse was game, and terror goaded Wade to risk the treacherous trails at a breakneck pace.
But it was too far. Racing up a deer trail, he knew, no matter how fast he rode and how much he risked, he’d be too late. He was already too late when the shooting started.
The hail of bullets ended. Wade galloped on. The weapons falling silent only made Wade surer that whatever damage was being done was over. In the gray of dawn, that silence ate at him, interrupted only by his horse’s thundering hoofbeats. He reached the base of the rise surrounding the Flathead village and tore up the mountainside.
A horse skylined itself, a masked rider atop it. A struggling woman thrown over his lap, screaming, clawing, kicking. A blond woman dressed in Indian garb, her hair catching the rising sun. Screaming as only Glowing Sun could scream.
She was still alive. Wade felt a wash of relief mixed with rage and terror as he goaded his horse forward. He could rescue her. Save her. He was in time.
Wade closed the distance, his horse blowing hard as it galloped up the rugged hillside, hooves thundering. Still a long upward quarter of a mile away, Wade wasn’t close enough yet to open fire. Afraid he’d hit Glowing Sun, Wade drew his rifle and carefully fired over the man’s head.
At the instant he pulled the trigger, three masked riders topped the hill, riding at full speed.
Wade’s bullet slammed the first one backward. The man shouted. His horse reared. A splash of bright red bloomed on the man’s shirt. Grabbing at the saddle horn, the outlaw showed great skill by keeping his seat. But he lost control of his mount and plowed into the horse bearing Glowing Sun and her abductor.
Shocked and sickened to have shot a man, Wade grimly raced on toward Glowing Sun.
The masked man just behind the one Wade had wounded swung his gun at Wade in a way that struck Wade as awkward or somehow wrong. The shooter hesitated; then, without firing a shot, he abandoned the fight, whirled, and raced his horse back the way he’d come.
The third man, skinny, but beyond that unrecognizable behind his kerchief, turned to face Wade’s gunfire. The instant he saw Wade, he turned coyote like the other outlaw and ran, leaving behind his wounded friend and the man who had Glowing Sun.
Cowards.
Glowing Sun gave an impossible twist of her body and an earsplitting shriek. She kicked herself over backward, landing a bare foot in the man’s face.
He must have yanked on the reins, because the horse reared, neighing and fighting the bit, skidding and spinning. As the horse threatened to go over backward, the man threw himself to the ground.
Glowing Sun went with him, screaming but not with fear or pain. It sounded like fury, killing-mean rage. And it sounded strong. Wade prayed she hadn’t been hurt.
Wade, still galloping full ahead up the long slope, leveled his rifle one-handedly and fired again, even higher this time.
The man Wade had shot gained control of his horse, wheeled, and dashed after the other bandits.
The fallen man leapt to his feet, still holding on to Glowing Sun. Then Wade realized the masked man wasn’t holding her. . .he was fighting her off.
Shouting Flathead words Wade didn’t understand, she had one hand jammed into the man’s throat as she slashed with her knife.
With the sharp smack of his backhand on Glowing Sun’s face, the man broke her grip. Her blade slashed, catching a flare of light from the first beams of the rising sun, cutting the man across his arm and chest. The outlaw yowled in pain.
Staggering back, Glowing Sun screamed an Indian battle cry and dove at him. She caught his kerchief and pulled it down. Then her fingers slipped. fell and slid down the steep hillside on her back.
Wade fired again, his horse thundering forward.
Stay alive. Stay alive.
He’d be there in seconds. But one bullet, one slash of a blade could rob the world—and Wade --- of Glowing Sun’s courage and beauty and indomitable spirit.
The outlaw jerked his gun free and shot at Wade. There was no blast. The gun jammed or was empty. Wade thought of the volley of gunfire that had awakened him and suspected the man had emptied his gun already.
Fury twisting his face, the man, his mask dangling around his neck, gave Wade one wild look. Wade saw his face plainly. Blood poured over his thick black beard and down the front of his heavy sheepskin coat. The outlaw snatched up his horse’s reins and threw himself into the saddle, and in two leaping strides, his horse vanished over the rim, following the other outlaws into the Flathead valley.
Wade reined hard as he reached Glowing Sun. His horse nearly sat down as it slid to a stop. Wade swung to the ground and raced to Glowing Sun’s side.
Blood soaked the front of her dress, coated her hands. She jumped to her feet as he got there.
“Where are you hurt?” Frantic, Wade tried to force her onto the ground.
She fought to stay on her feet and slashed the knife.
He knew her well enough to duck. “It’s me! Glowing Sun, it’s Wade. Let me help you!” He knew what he must look like. He hadn’t shaved all winter or cut his hair. Or bathed for that matter. He had no business expecting her to recognize the wild man he’d become.
She froze. Her knife was raised to strike. Her eyes locked on his face. “Wade?” The rage switched to relief. The knife fell from her fingers and she launched herself into Wade’s arms.
He staggered down the hill a few feet as he caught her hard against his chest.
Dear God, dear God, thank You. She’s alive. Holding her feels like a taste of heaven. Thank You. Thank You.
Wade’s head cleared from the knee-weakening relief. “Where are you bleeding? Were you shot? Did those men hurt you?” She felt vital and strong in his arms, not like a wounded woman should. His hands went to her shoulders, to push her back so he could see where she’d been hurt.
Before he could accomplish that, the smell hit him. Wade whirled with her still in his arms. Her feet flew out as she swung from his neck. He carried her as he dashed to the crest of the rise to see. . .
Devastation.
Smoke and bodies.
The tepees in flames.
Glowing Sun’s village laid to waste, people sprawled every-where. A dozen, maybe two dozen, all still. As death.
Gasping in horror, Wade looked at the village.
He’d made a habit of riding up here through the winter. This was the summer hunting grounds for Glowing Sun’s people, and he’d watched and waited for her to return from her village’s winter camp. He knew, even as he’d done it, the behavior was too much like what he’d done to Cassie Dawson a few years ago. But he couldn’t seem to help it. He’d needed to see Glowing Sun.
As spring had come on, he’d been more careful. Ghosting his way to the rim to study the high mountain valley to see if the Flatheads had returned. Only a week ago he’d ridden up here to find they’d come back. He’d dropped behind a scrub pine and watched until he caught a glimpse of her, alive and well and as beautiful as a dream. Then he’d slunk away like a low-down coyote.
Now, movement caught his eye. The men who’d taken Glowing Sun galloped far across the shallow bowl where this small group of Flatheads, roaming far from their reservation home, spent their summers. Wade’s hand clutched at his gun, but he was too far away for a shot.
A shot. He’d shot a man. His stomach churned. He fought nausea.
A wail of torment from Glowing Sun stopped him from dropping to his knees and emptying his stomach. He wanted to get on his horse and run from what he’d done. But he couldn’t leave Glowing with this devastation.
A flash of Glowing Sun fighting for her life ran vividly through his mind. What choice did he have but to fight for her? But it left him heartsick.
Then he looked again at the smoldering ruins of the peaceful village. Men, women, children. Killed by those four men. They’d come with rifles and handguns. The Indians were, more often than not, unarmed, at least unarmed beyond knives and spears. The Flatheads were a peaceful people. Their meager weapons were nothing against heavily armed men with repeating rifles.
Wade should be proud he’d shot one of those murdering scum. He should want to kill them all. The shame of that thought made his stomach twist again, and he thought he might vomit. He knew being able to kill wasn’t the sign of a man. He’d grown enough in his faith to understand that, but his common sense was fighting a battle with his upbringing.
“Why did this happen?” Wade asked God aloud.
Glowing Sun answered. “A massacre.” She still clung to him, but she’d lifted her head and turned to look at the butchery. She’d spoken in Wade’s language. He’d taught her English, or rather helped her rediscover her first tongue.
Wade blocked her view of the nightmare by turning and putting his body between her and the destruction. Thinking of her distracted him from his nausea.
Before he could check her for injuries, a cry of pain rose from the village nearly half a mile away in the valley.
Whirling to follow the sound, his weak stomach forgotten, he released Glowing Sun and grabbed at his horse’s reins. He jumped on, held his hand out to her. Her hand slapped into his with a sharp clap. He swung her up in front of him, remembering how she’d liked to ride.
They raced down the hill and waded into a bloodbath.
Glowing Sun snagged the reins away and swung her leg over the horse’s head. She jumped to the ground before the chestnut stopped and raced toward the loudest cries of pain.
Wade followed, relieved to see her moving and unhurt despite the blood.
Glowing Sun dropped to her knees. “Mama!”
Wade’s stomach twisted with dread as he saw two gunshot wounds bleeding from the woman’s chest. The woman opened her eyes, but they seemed unfocused. She grabbed at Glowing as if fighting her off, screaming.
“No, Mama. Let us help you.”
The older woman kept screaming, fighting.
“Flathead, Glowing Sun. Speak Flathead to her.”
Glowing Sun looked up, confused.
“You’re speaking English.” Wade pulled off his coat then tore off his shirt and grabbed his knife out of its sheath in his boot.
Glowing Sun shook her head then turned back to the woman.
Ten. . .Mama. . .Ten.”
Ten? Did that mean “mother”? Wade should have learned the language of the tribes around him. Why had he never tried? His father hated the idea. Indians were to be driven off, not treated as neighbors.
Glowing Sun spoke in the guttural tribal language.
The injured woman calmed and seemed to recognize Glowing Sun. Instead of screaming, she began a chant.
“We’ve got to get the bleeding stopped.” Wade dropped beside Glowing Sun. The chances of saving Glowing Sun’s mother were slim, but they had to try. With a loud tearing sound, Wade’s shirt split under his blade. Wade handed strips to Glowing Sun, who pressed them against the gushing wounds.
Glowing Sun began to pray in English, frantic petitions to God for mercy. Wade glanced up and saw love in Glowing Sun’s eyes. The kind of love Wade had known for his mother. A long-lost love.
Wade knew nothing of the Flathead language, but to him the woman’s chant was a dirge. To the extent he could understand, it sounded wordless, just syllables of mourning.
He joined Glowing Sun in her prayers, asking for a miracle, because only a miracle would spare this woman.
“God, please spare her life. Guide our hands. Wisdom, Lord, give us wisdom to know what to do, how to help.”
The two of them worked in desperation, one on each side of the stout woman. Stemming the bleeding, binding the wounds. Long black braids, streaked heavily with gray, hung limp. The woman’s dark eyes seemed to look beyond the sky. A cry rang from her lips. Her eyes flickered closed, but the dirge continued.
“Press harder.” Wade shoved a wad of cloth on top of the one soaked with blood. He moved Glowing Sun’s crimson-stained fingers.
The woman didn’t react to what had to be excruciating pain. She continued her death chant.
Glowing Sun’s mother’s song became weaker, quieter, sadder.
At last the noise ended. Wade felt the moment life left the woman and her spirit left her body.
With a cry of grief, Glowing Sun stopped her futile medical treatment and flung herself on the woman.
Wade eased back, staying close but knowing nothing he could say or do would help. Only then did he hear other moans. Other cries for help.
He lurched to his feet, his knees numb from the long time on the ground. How long had they worked on the dying woman? Were there others they’d neglected in their futile fight to save Glowing Sun’s Flathead mother?
He hated to leave Glowing Sun. He couldn’t insist she come. He faltered. “I’ve got to see if there are others who need help.”
She didn’t raise her eyes. Instead she started her own death chant.
Without even waiting to see if she heard him over her cries of grief, he turned and rushed toward the sound of pain.
Excerpted from WILDFLOWER BRIDE: Montana Marriages, Book 3 © Copyright 2010 by Mary Connealy.

Buy from Barnes and Noble
Buy from Christianbook.com
Buy from Amazon
Buy from Books a Million

Comments

Camy Tang said…
I don't know what happened earlier. Blogger reverted back to an older saved version of this post and lost my nice shiny formatted one!

Popular Posts

No Cold Bums toilet seat cover

Captain's Log, Stardate 08.22.2008 I actually wrote out my pattern! I was getting a lot of hits on my infamous toilet seat cover , and I wanted to make a new one with “improvements,” so I paid attention and wrote things down as I made the new one. This was originally based off the Potty Mouth toilet cover , but I altered it to fit over the seat instead of the lid. Yarn: any worsted weight yarn, about 120 yards (this is a really tight number, I used exactly 118 yards. My suggestion is to make sure you have about 130 yards.) I suggest using acrylic yarn because you’re going to be washing this often. Needle: I used US 8, but you can use whatever needle size is recommended by the yarn you’re using. Gauge: Not that important. Mine was 4 sts/1 inch in garter stitch. 6 buttons (I used some leftover shell buttons I had in my stash) tapestry needle Crochet hook (optional) Cover: Using a provisional cast on, cast on 12 stitches. Work in garter st until liner measures

Toilet seat cover

Captain’s Log, Supplemental Update August 2008: I wrote up the pattern for this with "improvements"! Here's the link to my No Cold Bums toilet seat cover ! Okay, remember a few days ago I was complaining about the cold toilet seat in my bathroom? Well, I decided to knit a seat cover. Not a lid cover, but a seat cover. I went online and couldn’t find anything for the seat, just one pattern for the lid by Feminitz.com . However, I took her pattern for the inside edge of the lid cover and modified it to make a seat cover. Here it is! It’s really ugly stitch-wise because originally I made it too small and had to extend it a couple inches on each side. I figured I’d be the one staring at it, so who cared if the extension wasn’t perfectly invisible? I used acrylic yarn since, well, that’s what I had, and also because it’s easy to wash. I’ll probably have to wash this cover every week or so, but it’s easy to take off—I made ties which you can see near the back of the seat. And

Sneak peek: Camy’s Kickstarter rewards

This Kickstarter is going to be awesome! I’ve been planning rewards that’ll knock your socks off! Don’t know what Kickstarter is? Check out this blog post about my Kickstarter. I posted a description of the rewards (and pictures) on Patreon. Click here to check out the Kickstarter rewards! You can Follow my Kickstarter to be notified when it’s launched, and I’ll also announce in my newsletter when it’s live. Follow Camy’s Kickstarter here

Sneak peek: Camy’s Kickstarter Pledge Levels

I’m working hard to create exciting pledge levels for my upcoming Kickstarter! Don’t know what Kickstarter is? Check out this blog post about my Kickstarter. I posted a description of the Pledge Levels (and pictures) on Patreon. Click here to check out the Kickstarter Pledge Levels! You can Follow my Kickstarter to be notified when it’s launched, and I’ll also announce in my newsletter when it’s live. Follow Camy’s Kickstarter here

ACFW booksigning at the Mall of America

Captain's Log, Stardate 09.04.2008 What: ACFW booksigning Who: 127 Christian novelists Where: Best Buy and Sears Rotundas and connecting hallway, Mall of America, Bloomington, MN When: Saturday, September 20, 2008, 1-3 p.m. Why: To meet your favorite authors! I’ll be participating in a massive Christian author booksigning at the Mall of America in Minnesota! You can buy copies of my books there or you can bring your copies for me to sign. I’ll also have a special surprise for the people who come to get their books signed, while supplies last! Here are the other authors signing with me: Mall of America Booksigners Tamera Alexander Jennifer AlLee A.K. Arenz Diane Ashley Karen Ball Janet Lee Barton James Scott Bell Joseph Bentz Terri Blackstock Robin Caroll Patricia PacJac Carroll Jeanie Smith Cash Eleanor Clark Debra Clopton Gloria Clover Brandilyn Collins Mary Connealy Lyn Cote Kathryn Cushman Margaret Daley KM Daughters Susan Page Davis Mary Davis Janet Dean Megan DiMaria Brandt Do

「戌年」連載小説 第11章

キャミー・タング著「戌年」連載小説 プロのドッグトレーナーであるマリ・ムトウは、厄年を迎えている。 犬小屋と訓練所の改築をしながら、いつも不服そうにしている家族と同居することになった。母と姉に言わせれば、犬の毛とよだれかけにまみれる仕事は、家族にとって恥ずべきものだという。彼女は元カレを説得し、数ヶ月間犬を預かってもらうことにした。しかし、彼の兄は、数週間前に彼女が誤って車に追突した、怒り狂ったセキュリティ専門家であることが判明する。 アシュウィン・ケイトウは十分な問題を抱えている。叔母が玄関先に現れ、同居を希望している。彼は彼女にすべてを借りているので、断ることができません。母親が家を出て行った後、ネルおばさんはアシュウィンと弟を引き取り、愛のあるキリスト教の家庭で育てた。しかも、弟のダスティもアパートを追い出され、居場所を求めている。しかし、彼は犬を飼っている。そして、その犬の飼い主は誰だと思いますか? しかし、旧友でオアフ島のノースショアでデイスパを経営する私立探偵のエディサ・ゲレロから依頼を受ける。マリの施設で奇妙な破壊行為があり、3年前に失踪したエディサの妹の財布を発見する。エディサはマリが危険な目に遭っているのではと心配する。警備の専門家であるアシュウィンがすでにマリを知っていることを知ったエディサは、忙しい若い女性を密かに監視することを彼に依頼する。 アシュウィンは、活発でのんびりとしたドッグトレーナーに不本意ながら惹かれていく。彼女は、幸せそうな母親を思い出させる。その母親の裏切りによって、彼は人と距離を置くようになったのだ。マリは、アシュウィンの冷たい外見を見抜き、彼が家族に忠実な男であることを認める。彼は、彼女のキャリア選択を批判するだけの母親や姉とは違う。 マリのバラバラな家庭とアシュウィンのバラバラな家庭の中で、過去を隠そうとする人たちから、彼らの周りに危険が迫ってくるようになる。彼らは、影で動く秘密に光を当てることができるのか? 過去に発表されたパートへのリンクはこちら。 *** 第11章 - タビー猫、黒猫、灰色と茶色の縞猫 彼女の母親は何かを摂取したに違いない。何を摂取したかはわからないが、代謝が急激に上がり、まるで神経質なリスのようになった。マリには、過去数日間に母親が家全体を掃除させた理由

Lady Wynwood #7 early release Kickstarter

I worked on my first Kickstarter and it got approved! It’s for the Special Edition Hardcover of Lady Wynwood’s Spies, volume 1: Archer and the release of Lady Wynwood’s Spies, volume 7: Spinster. I contacted my graphic designer about the Special Edition Hardcover of vol. 1: Archer—it’s going to be SO beautiful! The Kickstarter focuses on the Special Edition Hardcover, but it’ll also include vol. 7: Spinster so that it’ll sort of be like a launch day for vol. 7, too. A third special thing that’ll be in the Kickstarter is Special Edition Paperbacks of all the books in the series. They won’t be available in stores, just in the Kickstarter (and later, from my website, and also in my Patreon book box tiers if I decide to do them). The Kickstarter is not live yet, but you can follow it to be alerted when it has launched. (You may need to create a free Kickstarter account.) Follow Camy’s Kickstarter

Grace Livingston Hill romances free on Google Books

I wanted to update my old post on Grace Livingston Hill romances because now there are tons more options for you to be able to read her books for free online! I’m a huge Grace Livingston Hill fan. Granted, not all her books resonate with me, but there are a few that I absolutely love, like The Enchanted Barn and Crimson Roses . And the best part is that she wrote over 100 books and I haven’t yet read them all! When I have time, I like to dive into a new GLH novel. I like the fact that most of them are romances, and I especially appreciate that they all have strong Christian themes. Occasionally the Christian content is a little heavy-handed for my taste, but it’s so interesting to see what the Christian faith was like in the early part of the 20th century. These books are often Cinderella-type stories or A Little Princess (Frances Hodgson Burnett) type stories, which I love. And the best part is that they’re all set in the early 1900s, so the time period is absolutely fasci

Frogs

I know I blogged about this on my Writing Diary Blog , but I don’t think I blogged about this here. I read a few writing and productivity books, and I’ve been trying to form better daily habits. The problem is that my self-discipline is very bad. As in, embarrassingly bad. One of my goals has been to form a better writing habit. Since I’m a full-time writer, I already write every day, but I think there are things I can do to tweak my schedule so that I can be able to focus better when I write. I tend to get distracted by the thought of things I need to do that day which I haven’t done yet. I don’t know why my brain is like this, but I haven’t been able to break this tendency. So for example, while I’m writing, I’ll suddenly think about the fact that today’s the day when I need to change the bathroom towels, or mop the kitchen floor, or change the bedsheets. It’ll distract me for a few moments before I tell myself I’ll do it later and I need to focus on writing now. Then a few

Tabi socks, part deux

Captain's Log, Stardate 07.25.2008 (If you're on Ravelry, friend me! I'm camytang.) I made tabi socks again! (At the bottom of the pattern is the calculation for the toe split if you're not using the same weight yarn that I did for this pattern (fingering). I also give an example from when I used worsted weight yarn with this pattern.) I used Opal yarn, Petticoat colorway. It’s a finer yarn than my last pair of tabi socks, so I altered the pattern a bit. Okay, so here’s my first foray into giving a knitting pattern. Camy’s top-down Tabi Socks I’m assuming you already know the basics of knitting socks. If you’re a beginner, here are some great tutorials: Socks 101 How to Knit Socks The Sock Knitter’s Companion A video of turning the heel Sock Knitting Tips Yarn: I have used both fingering weight and worsted weight yarn with this pattern. You just change the number of cast on stitches according to your gauge and the circumference of your ankle. Th