STORM'S INTERLUDE nominated for Book of the Year

Imagine my thrill when I found out my debut book was nominated for Book of the Year at Long and Short Reviews. Every year they open their site for readers' votes on romances LASR ranks as the best. I was thrilled to be included on the list.

STORM'S INTERLUDE was at the head of the pack for a few days and then fell to number two. Now, sadly, it's at number three.

I was devastated when it lost it's first place ranking. I confess to wanting that title: Book of the Year for 2011 at Long and Short Reviews. Yeah, you could say my ego got in the way. We all yearn to be the best, don't we? Calvin, being the supportive husband, rubbed my back and said, "At least you were nominated. How many romance books were?"

"Thirty-eight." I swiped at a falling tear, feeling somewhat chagrined I was getting so emotional over a mere title. Really, in the scope of everyday life, what does a title mean? Not much when stacked against current events, illness and personal trials. For right now, my life is so charmed compared to many others battling demons and personal problems.

Take my hero's twin sister, Sunny. A single mother with a three-year old son, Sunny is battling leukemia. Her first round of chemo failed. Now she needs help to regain her strength so she can go through a second round. Seeking someone who might give her that edge she needs, she hires my heroine Rachel to come to the ranch and work with her. Rachel has a Masters in nursing and has also studied acupuncture, raiki, massage therapies and other non-traditional healing methods. She combines them--with the approval of the patient's doctor--to strengthen her patients.

Storm, the protective brother, is not too keen on all this healing "mumbo-jumbo" so he's determined to keep an eye on Nurse Rachel, which turns out to be esier than NOT watching her. In fact, she consumes his every waking and sleeping moment.

Allow me to share a scene around the kitchen table at the ranch. Rachel has just shared the results of Sunny's latest blood tests to Sunny, Storm, Jackson a love interest of Sunny's and the family's housekeeper, Noella. The cancer is no longer progressing...

“We should celebrate.” Storm was grinning. A jovial air had permeated the kitchen.

“No booze.” Jackson held his hand up in a stop gesture. “I promised Noella I’d slow down and I have. Been gettin’ drunk on love lately.” He gazed at Sunny and winked. She beamed a smile.

Storm glanced at Noella, who was giving him a warning look. “No, I was thinking of that apple pie I smelled when Sawyer and I got back from our ride. I say we live dangerously and have it for lunch, not dinner.”

           “Wif ice cream!” The child’s eyes were wide. His sweet enthusiasm, infectious.

Noella laughed. “Si, my darling boy. With ice cream. Your Unkie Storm has a good idea. Now eat all your lunch so you can have the special dessert.”

Storm turned to Rachel. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think of your diabetes. Can you have pie and ice cream?”

She shook her head. “I’d love it, believe me, but I shouldn’t have more than a bite.”

“I’ll share a bite with you. You’re part of the reason we’re celebrating, after all. Besides, no one makes apple pie like our Noella. She uses apples grown here in her orchard.” He turned to his sister. “How are you feeling? Not too tired, I hope.”

            “Are you kidding? For the first time in months, I feel alive. Rachel and I potted some plants after breakfast. Healing herbs, she calls them. I swam. Got some sun. Had a marvelous massage. You should have Rachel give you one.” She smiled at her brother, and Rachel could have sworn there was a tinge of mischievousness in her patient’s eyes. “Rachel has fabulous hands. Bet she could do wonders with your body.”

            Storm had just taken a drink of iced tea. He choked.

            “Goodness!” Sunny beamed, spearing a cherry tomato with her fork and holding it in front of her mouth. “Was it something I said?”

            The pie a la mode was served. When Storm laid his arm across the back of Rachel’s chair and brought a spoonful of the dessert to her mouth, she held up one finger. “Okay, but one bite is all I can eat.” She closed her eyes and opened her mouth. Sweetness of sugar, the tartness of apples, cinnamon, nutmeg and the cold of ice cream landed on her tongue. It had been ages since she’d indulged. The tastes mingled and melted.

            She savored, swallowed and moaned. “Heaven. That was so good it made my toes curl.” She slowly opened her eyes and stared into the piercing gaze of midnight eyes. Storm was watching her as if he were measuring and mentally recording every nuance of her reaction. “Why…why are you staring at me like that?”

            His eyes never left hers as he extended a long finger and swiped a chunk of apple from her lower lip. “I’ve never seen anyone enjoy something so much.” He held up his finger. “Here, you missed a piece of apple.”

            Rachel coiled her hand around his wrist and brought his finger to her mouth. She sucked the fruit from his finger, twirling her tongue around his skin. Storm’s eyes swept shut and he groaned. For a brief second, she enjoyed the sensual power her mouth exacted over him.

SNIPPET SATURDAY --

Rachel, a nurse who combines traditional and holistic methods for treating cancer patients in their homes, has come to the hill country of Texas to help a young mother get ready for a second round of chemo. Although they've talked on the phone and emailed many times, this is their first meeting in Storm's Interlude.

Rachel was in yellow cotton pajamas, combing out her wet hair when she heard a soft knock at her door. Comb in hand, she opened the door and came face to face with her new patient, Sunny Brentwood. As expected, she was bald, thin and pale, but her wide smile beamed her inner warmth and beauty. Her dark eyes, now devoid of lashes, held what appeared to be pain and dread.


Sunny took Rachel’s hands and squeezed them. “I’m so glad to finally meet you. I know it’s late, but I wanted to welcome you to the Triple-S.” She strolled into the room. “Did you find everything you need?”

“Yes, thank you. You have a lovely home.”

“It’s a tomb.” Sunny shoved her hands into the pockets of the white terrycloth robe that nearly swallowed her and shrugged. “Sorry. Don’t mind me. I’m in a mood tonight. I think that’s why Sawyer couldn’t relax enough to go to sleep.”

“Children sense our moods. I’m sure with you being sick, he’s become more intuitive.”

“Yes, and it breaks my heart to put him through this.” Her thin hand fluttered to her scalp. “Having a bald mother has to be scary for him.”

Rachel placed a hand on Sunny’s arm. “When you hug him and whisper words of love, do you think he cares you’re bald?”

Sunny shrugged and swiped at a falling tear.

“So tell me, why did you call this house a tomb?” She meant to get to the bottom of that negative remark.

Her patient started roaming around the room. “Because everyone in this house whispers now, as if my diseased body can’t handle normal noise.” Pulling back one of the white drapes, Sunny gave a quick glance to the darkness of the night. “It’s so damned quiet here that I almost welcome Sawyer’s tantrums.” She smiled and tilted her head. “Almost.”

“This was my room growing up. I was pregnant with Sawyer when I moved back here, so I took the suite of rooms across the hall since it had a nursery on the other side of the bathroom.” Sunny pulled the drapery back again and looked out. “I used to climb out this window onto the branch of that big ol’ live oak and shimmy down to meet Jackson, my childhood sweetheart.”

She turned to Rachel and smiled. “Oh, the antics we used to pull. My daddy threatened to tan my hide many a time, but he was more bark than bite, especially with me. My brother’s just like Daddy in that regard. He explodes and simmers, but he’s harmless. Don’t let his bluster intimidate you.”

“I won’t. I’m a nurse, remember? I’m used to male doctors flexing their egos.”

Sunny laughed. “Fewer men have egos as big as my brother. He thinks he can boss everyone around. Still, for all that, he’s a loving man. I depend on him more than I should, I suppose, but he’s one of the few men in my life who’s never let me down. Although, he can be a bit of a tyrant. ‘Rest,’ he commands. ‘Keep the house quiet for Sunny,’ he orders.”

Sunny turned and strode to the love seat, picked up a yellow and pink striped throw pillow and fluffed it before flinging it back onto the love seat. “I swear the quiet in this house will drive me batty. Noella won’t even play her mariachi music anymore. I grew up dancing and stomping to that lively beat.” A harsh bark of laughter escaped Sunny’s lungs. “She’s even taken to tiptoeing through the house. Can you believe it?”

Well, Rachel’s first order of business was certainly evident. She’d dispel the tomb image tomorrow. No matter what this brother and the housekeeper said, she’d fill the house with music and laughter.

“They’re all natural responses when you don’t know what to do or how to handle a situation. I gather Noella loves you very much.” She was pleased to see a show of spirit. If Sunny could complain, she could fight.

“Yes, Noella raised my brother and me after Mother left. Storm and I were loud, rambunctious twins, and Mother was too high strung to put up with us. Thank God we had Daddy. He was the best.”

“Mine was, too.” A stab of pain pricked her heart; thinking of her father who’d died a year ago still brought sadness. “I’m sure your mother’s leaving was hard on you.”

“It was hardest on my brother, I think. He had nightmares for a long time afterward.”

“How old were you when she left?”

“Five.” Sunny fussed with the daisies and pulled one out of the vase to smell it, twirling it in her hand. “I barely remember her. My only image is of her being all dressed up, hurrying out the door and blowing us kisses. She spent a lot of time elsewhere.” She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “My fear is I’ll leave my son before he’s old enough to form lasting memories of me. Will Sawyer suffer the way Storm did, I wonder.”

Rachel’s heart twisted at Sunny’s words. She had to do all she could to help Sunny. “Then we have to work doubly hard to see that doesn’t happen.”

Sunny swiped at a tear and nodded. “You’ll meet my brother, Storm, tomorrow. He runs the ranch.”

“How is he handling your illness?”

“Not well. Everyone around here acts as if this were the land of the walking dead. I hate it. I want my life back.” Finally, as if she’d run out of steam, Sunny flopped onto the love seat. “You’ve looked at my medical records. What do you think?”