Release of "Forever After" by Paisley Kirkpatrick

 

RELEASE DAY PARTY!

 

I love a new book. Don't you? I especially love it when a long-awaited book, of a favored series, releases. Today, my friend Paisley Kirkpatrick's third book of her historical Paradise Pines Series releases--FOREVER AFTER. I've got her here today to celebrate and to also share a bit of her third book. Paisley used to laugh at how my characters came to me. She told me a while back she wasn't laughing any more. So, Paisley, do tell... Meanwhile, have a slice of cake and a cup of coffee. It's early still, we'll have the champagne later. 

 

Thanks for having me, Vonnie. I see you were baking again. You know how I love strawberries. I thought today would never get here. I am thrilled to introduce my third book. Because of this series' connection to my ancestors, each book has become a project of my heart.

I think the connection to you is one of the reasons I love this series. Here, have a slice of cake.

 

Thanks! Have you ever wondered where your story ideas come from? It is the one question people ask me the most. Until a very strange and quite remarkable occurrence happened while I wrote Forever After, I had no idea I might have someone living in my head helping me.

One of my great, great grandparents might just be the answer.

 

Oh, do tell! First, have some coffee to wash down that dry cake.  Cream? Sugar?

 

Both, please.

 

Charles Kirkpatrick was a doctor who left Illinois and traveled across country on a wagon train in 1849. He kept a journal which is now kept under glass in the Bancroft Library at UC Berkeley, in California. I can understand why it's considered five-star quality. He was quite literate and wrote a lot of what he saw and what happened around him.

 

 

I am lucky enough to have a copy of the journal and was able to share a lot of what he put on the pages in my second story, Marriage Bargain. At the time I felt blessed to have help from one of my ancestors.

His wife, Mary Kirkpatrick, wrote seven stories under the name of Mary Kirke. She is supposedly the first woman to have stories published in a magazine.

 

Whoot! A feminine trial blazer. I love it!

 

When I finally settled down and read through one of the five 3-inch thick binders of genealogy my Mother assembled, I was about halfway through writing Forever After. My heroine traveled to San Francisco on a ship without luggage and she suffered greatly from nausea. When I read my great, great grandmother's first story published in a magazine, I was caught off guard when I found two of her sentences were written verbatim to mine. Also, the scene was under the same circumstances as mine -- on a ship to San Francisco, no luggage, and constantly plagued with nausea. Eerie, spooky, unbelievable - these were the words running through my head. How could this have happen? In all fairness, I couldn't leave my story similar to hers so I ultimately did change the scene somewhat so we can both take credit for what we've written.

 

Oh, Paisley, that just gives me chills. Here have some chocolate.  I brought some home from Germany.

Mmmm, these are great! At my next Sacramento Valley Rose chapter meeting our guest speaker spoke about past lives. I told her what had happened to me and asked if I could have inherited my great, great grandmother's memories. She agreed it was possible, but thought it was more than likely I inherited Mary Kirke.

On one other note, when I read the last two sentences of my great, great grandmother's story I cried and I still get emotional telling you about them. She was standing on the wharf at San Francisco Harbor. She had just arrived after sailing from the east coast to San Francisco and was waiting for the man she was to marry to meet her. She felt his hand on her shoulder and knew she was home. I have tears telling it again.

I have no idea how her words got in my head, but if it is true and she is living in there giving me plots, I am not complaining. I have no idea where my ideas come from or why this time period and the gold country has always been important to me, but it's a gift and I intend to always nurture it. 

 

Wow, Paisley. Just wow! Time top pop the champagne cork. A story like this deserves some bubbly. Let's toast to your third book, to great sales and positive reviews. Did you bring a copy of the cover? Your publisher does great covers. I just love them.

 

Thanks. Everyone at Desert Breeze Publishing has treated me so well.  

 

BLURB: 

Abandoned by her sisters, her father in jail, Marinda Benjamin takes on the care of her ailing mother the best way possible -- working for an unscrupulous man with the power to crush her.  Forced to spy on a decent man, Marinda's honesty saves her virtue and revenge restores her self-respect.

When Ethan Braddock discovers his brother's poker pot cleaning his private office, he jumps to the right conclusion -- she's there to spy for his nemesis. Ethan can't help but find her irresistible. In spite of what his heart tells him, his brain reserves judgment on her character. Until he unravels the mystery of her connection to Danforth, trust is the one thing he can't allow himself. For that, she'll have to prove herself.

Marinda Benjamin won't marry until she finds the forever after kind of love. Has the man she's dreamed of loving been beside her all along?

 

 

Have some fruit, ladies. We're eating more fresh fruits and vegies around here thanks to the diabetes. Now, Paisley, share your excerpt with us. I can't wait!

EXCERPT:

 Fulton County, Illinois

August 1850

 

"I'll bet this little lady against whatever you've got in your hand."

A sudden hush stifled all the noise in the Hidey Hole Saloon. Master against novice. Who would win? Then quiet snickers began to echo off the wood walls. The regulars of the saloon moved in for a closer look.

Marinda Benjamin stared around at all the patrons who just witnessed her humiliation by Danforth's claim. She latched onto the back of her employer's chair to steady her crumbling nerves. Jonas Danforth had bet her, body and soul, in a card game.

Fancy women dressed in garish attire crowded around the poker table. Some stared at her with pity while a few sneered in obvious enjoyment of seeing another Benjamin sister fall from grace.

She wracked her brain for a way of preventing the ridiculous bet, but she knew Danforth held all the cards. Yet she had to stop this travesty. "Enough!" She stepped up beside his chair. "You can't do--"

The menace in Danforth's glare as he looked at her stopped her from saying more.

A malicious sneer marred his face. "As long as I hold the loan on your house, you'll do as I say. Is that clear?"

She wanted to run, but her feet refused to move. She wanted to speak her piece, as she always did, but now was not the time. So instead, she held her head high. She refused to allow Jonas Danforth to see her frustration. He had broken her father's spirit. He would not break hers.

The town's mischief-maker sat across from Danforth. Patrick Braddock glanced her way. "She looks like she might be worth five twenty-dollar gold eagles and I could use a servant. I call your bet. Let's see what ya got."

The knot in her stomach tightened.

Danforth put his concentration back to the table. He placed three kings on the table -- a heart, a diamond, and a spade. He leaned back and twirled his waxed mustache around his pinky finger. The smirk he directed her way turned her blood cold.

 

BUY LINKS:

 

Amazon
http://www.amazon.com/Paradise-Pines-Forever-After-ebook/dp/B00FK8BWAO/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1380674597&sr=8-3&keywords=paisley+kirkpatrick

 

 

Desert Breeze

http://www.desertbreezepublishing.com/paradise-pines-forever-after-epub

 

 

WHEW! WE HAVE PARTIED HEARTY TO CELEBRATE THE RELEASE OF FOREVER AFTER. PAISLEY, WISHING YOU GREAT SALES, MY FRIEND!

She Was a Graduate of Miss Feather's School for Refined Ladies of Culture and Proper Decorum by Vonnie Davis

      Annalee didn’t know which was more disconcerting: the fact she’d fainted on the stagecoach or that the marshal now held her like a baby. She shifted in his arms, nervous at being held this close. Her burns throbbed so badly, she could barely think. “I can walk, you know. I only fainted.”

       “You might have hit your head. Caused an injury.” He tilted his head to the side and stared at her, an unsettling warmth in his brown eyes. “No need to frown like that. You’re not heavy. As soon as the doc’s through with your shooting victim, I’ll carry you inside.”

       “I did not shoot the driver.” She pursed her lips and glared at him. Up close, the marshal had an interesting face. A bump on his nose indicated it had been broken, probably in a brawl or two. His square jaw proclaimed stubbornness—something she could relate to—and a scar from the corner of his lower lip to the cleft of his chin no doubt signaled a life of violence. Dark, wavy hair hung over his jacket collar and nearly brushed his shoulders.

       Boone cleared his throat, arching one dark eyebrow. “Are you through with your examination? I could take my boots off so you can count my toes.”

       Her hackles rose at his remark. “Put me down, you annoying man.” She shoved at his hard chest. His hold tightened, increasing her pain. She gritted her teeth to keep from crying out.

       The lawman tilted his head to the side again and his eyebrows furrowed in thought. “I wonder…”

       “What?”

       “Were you born cranky or have you been practicing on a daily basis? Frankly, I’ve never met a more peevish woman. Now Widow Morrison, she’s a mite cranky, but rumor has it she’s got trouble with her bowels…”

       Annalee gasped, her cheeks heating with the blush of embarrassment. “Shut up. I’ll have you know there’s nothing amiss regarding my disposition. Why, I’m a graduate of Miss Feather’s Finishing School for Refined Ladies of Culture and Proper Decorum.” She gave an imperial sniff and hiked her chin a notch.

       He grinned, a sight that made her insides flutter, before he inclined his head and whispered, “You flunked that part, didn’t you?”      

       His warm breath against her ear caused her toes to curl in her black leather, high-button shoes and a shiver to race through her system, reactions she found troubling. She pierced him with an imposing glare. “I beg your pardon?”

       “The decorum part. You flunked that, didn’t you?” The corners of his mouth twitched as if he were fighting a smile. “Because every time you get riled, your mouth turns as nasty as a cowpoke with saddle sores.”

       He had her there. Her “devil tongue,” as Miss Feather called it, had earned her more demerits and kitchen duty than she cared to admit. Thus she’d been dubbed with the disparaging title of the “Demerit Damsel.”

       She’d not share that morsel of information with this infuriating stranger. She shot the marshal a sideways glance. For some reason, he grated on her nerves. “You, sir, have a brainless tongue that goes off half-cocked with what little sense God gave you.”

 

 

BUY LINKS:

Still Moments Publishing Library: http://www.stillmomentspublishing.com/2013/02/a-man-for-annalee.html

 

Still Moments Publishing eBook Store: http://www.stillmomentspublishing.com/p/ebook-store.html

Still Moments Publishing Print Library: http://www.stillmomentspublishing.com/p/print.html

 

http://www.amazon.com/A-Man-for-Annalee-ebook/dp/B00BHK7ZW8/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1361256339&sr=8-1&keywords=a+man+for+annalee

Two Stars From New Zealand by Vonnie Davis

There's a lovely, talented young star in New Zealand who writes the most imaginative stories. Her name is LaVerne Clark, and she sent me my fifth star today by nominating Vintage Vonnie for Blog of the Year. I'm thrilled, but first, let's go back a minute to my remark about her writing the most imaginative stories. Folks, this author thinks on a very deep level. Have you ever wondered how the atomic bomb dropped over Japan might have altered the genes of some of the survivors? That perhaps they now possess special powers? Not I. My mind doesn't think like that. Thankfully hers does or I wouldn't have had the chance to read Affinity. Check out LaVerne's blog at http://www.laverneclark.blogspot.co.nz

This award is unlike other awards that you can only add to your blog once. This award can be updated with additional stars. For every time your blog is nominated, you get to add an additional star.

There are a total of “6” stars to collect. Which means that you can check out your favorite blogs—and even if they have already been given the award by someone else—you can still make your opinion count and pass it on to them again and help them (or me) reach the maximum of “6” stars.

The rules of the award are simple:

1. Select the blogs you think deserve the 2012 Blog of the Year Award.

2. Write a blog post and tell us about the blog(s) you have chosen—there’s no minimum or maximum number of blogs required and present them with this award.

3. Please include a link back to this page: Blog of the Year Award. http://thethoughtpalette.co.uk/our-rewards/blog-of-the-year-award/ and include these rules in your post. (Please don’t alter the rules or the badge!)

4. Let the blogs(s) you have chosen know that you have given them this award and share the rules with them.

5. You can now join our Facebook page – click the link here. ‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award (http://www.facebook.com/groups/BlogoftheYear/) and then you can share your blog with an even wider audience.

Here are the blogs I've chosen to receive this award:

http://maevegreyson.blogspot.com/ I love Maeve Greyson's books. She takes a bit of Scotland, a bit of muscled brawn, a bit of magic, throws it into her magic culdron of talent and stirs with her own brand of delightful humor and **POOF** she's got another winner. But beyond all that, I just love Maeve, the woman. And I thoroughly enjoy her blog.

http://carolineclemmons.blogspot.com/ I've stated many times how I feel about history, the beauty of the West and cowboys. Caroline Clemmons loves those things, too, and her blog is a font of information. I lurk there often to learn something historical. She's very supportive of other authors and does great interviews, too. Have you read Home Sweet Texas Home? Artfully written, folks. And I confess to being in love with her cat, Sebastian. He's gorgeous.

http://blog.rolynnanderson.com/ Rolynn was a recent guest here. I just love her to pieces. In fact she was my muse for my second entry in the Honky Tonk Hearts series. We met on The Wild Rose Press yahoo loop and again as bloggers on Voices of the Heart, blog for RWA's online chapter, From the Heart. She's got a great series going on right now--suspenseful, humorous in spots, thought provoking in othes. A great combo, if you ask me.