CELEBRATING INDEPENDANCE GIVE-AWAY

HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY, EVERYONE!

We've been without power for four days here in south-central Virginia thanks to a huge windstorm. A land hurricane, weather experts called it. Half of our city is without power, including us. Traffic lights aren't working. Our two hospitals are ruinning on generators. Many businesses are closed. It's a mess. Everyone is hunting for places to eat, get in out of the 104 temps and recharge batteries and access Wi-Fi. So, while I have internet access in this crowded restaurant, let me post a few quick remarks, 'cause I'm late for this event. With all that's going on, I forgot.

For those of you who leave a comment, one of you will be eligible for a drawing for a paperback copy of STORM'S INTERLUDE and a T-shirt. For a second commenter, you may also win an eCopy of THOSE VIOLET EYES. So, leave a comment and PLEASE include a way for me to reach you. How can I tell you that you've won if I have no clue how to email you? Meanwhile, stay cool and celebrate our nation's birthday.

EXCERPT FROM THE OPENING SCENE OF STORM'S INTERLUDE:

Someone swaggered out of the moonlit night toward Rachel. Exhausted from a long day of driving, she braked and blinked. Either she was hallucinating or her sugar levels had plummeted. Maybe that accounted for the male mirage, albeit a very magnificent male mirage, trekking toward her. She peered once more into the hot July night at the image illuminated by her headlights. Sure enough, there he was, cresting the hill on foot—a naked man wearing nothing but a black cowboy hat, a pair of boots and a go-to-hell sneer.

Well, well, things really did grow bigger in Texas. The man quickly covered his privates with his black Stetson. Rachel sighed. The show was evidently over. Should she stand up in her Beetle convertible and applaud? Give a couple of catcalls? Wolf whistles? Maybe not.

She turned down the music on the car’s CD player. Sounds of crickets and a lonely bullfrog in the distance created a nighttime symphony in the stillness of this isolated stretch of country road. Lightning bugs darted back and forth, blinking a display of neon-yellow glow.

The naked man strode toward her car, and Rachel’s heart rate kicked up. Common sense told her to step on the gas, yet what woman wanted to drive away from such a riveting sight? Still, life had taught her to be careful. She reached into her handbag and extracted her chrome revolver. Before he reached her car, she quickly slid her gun under the folds of her skirt.

Just let him try anything funny—I know how to take care of myself.

FOR A LIST OF PARTICIPATING AUTHORS, CLICK HERE.