Under a Western Sky boxed set and The Comanchero's Bride by Kaye Spencer set #westernromance #PrairieRosePubs #boxedset #amreading

My novel, The Comanchero's Bride, is in the company of five other outstanding western romance novels in the Prairie Rose Publications’ boxed set, Under a Western Sky. Six great novels in one tidy package. How wonderful is that?

A little about The Comanchero's Bride...

The country music artist, Marty Robbins, has been an influence in my writing since...well, since forever, it seems. Themes and snippets from his gunfighter ballads and songs of the Old West show up in my stories as my little way to pay homage to a man I greatly admire.

His ballad, Meet Me Tonight in Laredo, is the inspiration for The Comanchero's Bride. I expanded upon the 'forbidden love' between the woman (Elizabeth Bradford White) and the former Comanchero (Mingo Valderas), and added the woman's spurned and revenge-seeking suitor (a well-connected politician).

Meet Me Tonight in Laredo on YouTube

Here is an excerpt from The Comanchero's Bride.

At the livery, Mingo remained in the shadows where he could see both ways along the street. Opening the wagon doors just wide enough to allow him to pass through, he eased his way inside. Speaking in a low soothing tone to his horses, he packed and saddled them under the moonlight coming in from two windows. Opening half the double doors, he led the two riding horses out the back, tied them to a corral rail, and returned for the packhorse.

He no more than reached the packhorse when a cold voice in the shadows stopped him in his tracks.

“Don’t turn around, Valderas.”

Mingo froze. A few more steps and he would have been on the off side of the packhorse, but where he was, he had no protection.

“I’ve got a good bead right between your shoulders. I know about your fast draw and the price on your head. I’ve also heard stories about your throwing knives, so keep your hands where I can see them.”

“You know me. But who are you? What do you want?” Mingo didn’t care. He knew the challenge from the shadows was a bounty hunter. He needed the man to talk so he could pinpoint his location.

“I came out of El Paso. A man named Jack added to the price on your head—dead or alive—and some politician is offering a pretty penny on top of that to bring in the woman you have with you. He wants her alive.”

From the sound of the man’s voice, he hadn’t moved and was off to his right. Mingo fought the urge to whirl and fire, but shooting blindly was not his way. He wouldn’t risk wild shot that could injure a horse, and gunfire would bring others into the fray. Shadows were both his enemy and ally, depending upon how he used it.

“The way’s clear behind you, so back towards the open wagon door, and keep your hands away from your body. When I heard the talk of a Mexican man traveling with a white woman, and they were staying at the hotel, I fig-ured I’d hit pay dirt. I was just supposed to worry you into making a wrong move. Never thought I’d be the one to catch you.

“I’m taking the woman to El Paso. You, I’m locking up in the back room of the saloon for safe keeping…unless you give me an excuse to kill you right now, which I’ve a yearning to do. I can’t miss at this range. It wouldn’t do my reputation any damage to be the man who took down Mingo Valderas.”

Now, he knew who he was up against. Earl Johns was vicious and a killer, a back-shooting coward. Mingo inched backward, buying thinking time.

“Where’s the woman, Valderas?”

“There is no wom—”

“She’s too close for your comfort.” Elizabeth’s voice cut through the night. The sound of a shotgun hammer pulling back was an angry, lethal sound that made the hairs on Mingo’s arms prickle.

Under a Western Sky is available on Amazon.com
$0.99 digital
Read for free with KindleUnlimited

Purchase Link:

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Until next time,

Kaye Spencer

 

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The Comanchero's Bride by Kaye Spencer – June #blogabookscene #PrairieRosePubs

The #blogabookscene theme for June is On the road again.  The traveling excerpt below is from my western romance novel, The Comanchero's Bride. Mingo and Isabel are on the run from a powerful man hellbent on killing Mingo so he can marry Isabel.

EXCERPT

Isabel lost track of the days. Hour after weary hour, creaking saddle leather, plodding steps of horses’ hooves, and the wind worrying the grass were the only sounds. Sometimes, she couldn’t remember what it was like to be warm. Other times, she shed her heavy garments. Horseback riding for pleasure had been one of her favorite pastimes, but with a sidesaddle and only on short jaunts, not for grueling miles at a stretch in a saddle that she had to straddle in an unladylike fashion. Still, tiresome though it was, crossing the prairie on horseback was like attending a traveling school. Each hour, each day brought something new, and she soaked it up with the exuberance of a child who has just learned to read and then realizes an entire world of unimagined adventure awaits her discovery.

Mingo showed her how to keep her directions straight in the dark by using the North Star as a fixed point and to tell time at night by the position of the constellations. Watching The Hunter’s trek across the sky helped her endure many long, cold hours, and when it hung low in the western sky, she knew sunrise was near and that usually meant food and rest in the warmth of Mingo’s arms as they snuggled under the blankets in some secluded hideaway. She learned how to go without hot meals and baths, but most useful of all, she learned how to sleep in the saddle as miles of dark, monotonous prairie sameness lulled her into a stupor.

 

She loved listening to the stories Mingo told of his life, which helped to pass the time. Then other times, he often didn’t speak for hours, needing silence in order to hear the night noises—coyotes yipping, owls hooting, the breeze humming through the greasewood and scrub trees, and an occasional cow lowing or dog barking in the distance. He said these things talked to him, explaining to him what stirred out in the dark places where he couldn’t see.

 

Always, though, he focused on the land, constantly surveying it from near-to-far and back, both ahead and behind, and Isabel soon fell into the same observations. He made decisions with the seasoned confidence of a man who knew how to make their passing virtually invisible.

 

He was a mercurial spirit, constant, yet ever changing with uncanny intuition, which prompted him to leave an obvious path for a trail only he could see. They left tracks. He covered their tracks. They doubled back, and they circled around. He purposely chose rough terrain to discourage followers and to make their passing difficult to trace. 

 

Sometimes they rode by daylight and rested by night. He plotted their way from water source to water source then, for no reason she could discern, he would pass up watering holes when they needed to refill their canteens. When she asked, he could only shrug and say he listened to his instincts. Even though he thought out every move with deliberate care, the moment she was comfortable with their routine, he changed it. She observed his every movement, questioned him to find out his thoughts in order to learn everything she could.

 

She prayed nothing would separate them again, but always in the back of her mind, the possibility lurked. And she knew it was those same fears, although he never said so, that pushed him to teach her how to live and survive without him. He told of landmarks to watch for in order to keep her bearings straight for the Rio Grande. She memorized the names of allies along the way and where they lived. He assured her as long as she kept her path southerly, someone in his family would eventually locate her.

 

 

The Comanchero's Bride is also included in the boxed set Under a Western Sky.

 

 

 

 

The Comanchero's Bride is available as a single novel HERE.

 

It is also included in the boxed set, Under a Western Sky, which is available HERE.

 

 

 

 

Until next time,

Kaye Spencer

 
 

As I don’t send a newsletter, you might consider following me on these social media venues:

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‘Beware the ides of March’ - and a treacherous excerpt from THE COMANCHERO’S BRIDE by Kaye Spencer #blogabookscene #westernromance #PrairieRosePubs

Two days from now... Beware the ides of March.

This phrase conjures images of danger, destruction, and death. It is a dire warning that bad things are coming your way.

Where did this dark association with the 15th of March originate?

As with many phrases we use today, we can trace their origins to William Shakespeare. While historically, we know Julius Caesar was assassinated on March 15, 44 BCE, it was Shakespeare who immortalized that phrase in his play Julius Caesar in Act 1, Scene 2.

But, poor, poor maligned March 15th. There isn’t anything inherently worrisome, sinister, or foreboding about this date. In fact, every “month has an “ides". It’s simply the 15th of the month.

Referencing a 2017 USA Today article [HERE]—

…the word ‘ides’ is a derivative of the Latin verb iduare/idus, which means “to divide”. The ides denoted the Roman method of signifying the day in the middle of the month. More specifically, the ides related directed to the way lunar phases were calculated at the time. The full moon in any given month typically fell between the 13th and the 15th. Before Caesar was in charge of... [well, just about everything...] and he changed the calendar, the ides of March was the date of the new year and a time for celebration.

La clémence de César, Abel de Pujol, 1808

Abel de Pujol creator QS:P170,Q704494, La clémence de César,
marked as public domain, more details on Wikimedia Commons

Since the #blogabookscene theme for March is treachery here is an ‘ambition gone wrong’ excerpt from my western historical novel THE COMANCHERO’S BRIDE.

EXCERPT

Grayson walked idly around the room as he talked, picking up framed family tintypes and daguerreotypes from the top of a sideboard then replacing them carelessly and moving on to other items with the same disregard. “The irresponsibility you’ve shown in not returning home when you were summoned is disturbing. Considering you gave Edward no choice but to send you here, and then you defied him when he ordered you home...” He paused, glancing at her with a scowl of displeasure.

His disapproving glower had no more impact of putting her in her proper place now than it had any other time he’d threatened her with it. She remained silent in her experience that to comment was wasted effort.

“Needless to say, your behavior is unconscionable, and you should be ashamed at the trouble you’ve put us through.” Grayson ended his stroll directly in front of her.

When he reached to embrace her, she recoiled as if his touch would burn her skin. “How did this become my fault? I wrote and explained quite clearly that I wasn’t returning. It was your choice to come here, not mine. I gave ample warning.”

“Elizabeth, I’ve just checked into what I will loosely refer to as a hotel. There are no carriages or horses available for hire, so I had to walk here. I’m tired, and I have no intention of bandying any more words with you. Pour me a drink. We need to discuss how soon we can leave.”

“No, I won’t pour you a drink, and you’re not welcomed here. I want you to go.” Nothing had changed. He was every bit as boorish and domineering as she remembered.

“Damn it!” he bellowed. “This is nonsense. We’re spending the winter in Denver with your parents. I’ve already arranged several important dinner parties, and we’re on guest lists at the Tabor, Byers, and Evans’ homes during the Christmas season.” His face reddened, and a purple vein throbbed on his temple.

“How awfully nice for you,” she goaded, hoping to fuel his ire. “I’m sure my parents will be delighted to spend the holidays with you.”

In one long, powerful stride, he towered over her, shaking a thick finger in her face. “I have to be accepted into Denver political circles in order to gain some critical support in Ohio. I also have a hunting expedition with Baron Van Doren coming up, and I expect you to do your part with entertaining the right people during our stay. You already have an appointment to attend some silly women’s group holiday tea at the Cooper mansion. You know these activities are vital for my political future. I won’t have it any other way.”

She batted his hand down. “Your political career is only important to you and my parents.” She clenched her fists at her sides, aggravated that she’d allowed herself to be drawn into conversation instead of walking away. It was fully dark and well past time to meet Mingo. “I have a prior commitment.”

Waving her off, he said, “What you have is a duty to your family and to me as my wife, you missed—”

“I am not, nor will I ever be, your wife.”

He pushed right over her interruption. “You missed a gubernatorial inaugural dinner party in Columbus last winter and several other important events since then. I’m tired of making excuses for your absence. I won’t do it any longer.” He leaned forward. “So, congratulations. You’ve made your point. Now, it’s time to come with me and get on with the business of being my wife.”

Fuming, she held her ground. “I’m not going to marry you, and I’m certainly not your political or social plaything. Don’t forget that it was you who convinced my father to banish me here. You sent me away from everything I knew—from all the things I thought I needed to be happy. Then I found out that not only do I not need them, I no longer want them. Listen to what I’m saying, Grayson. You’ve made the trip here for nothing. I’m staying in Laredo.”

“This is ludicrous!” His booming voice bounced off the walls. “Our wedding date is set and invitations have been sent.”

He loomed over her like large tree branches bending toward the ground in the raging onslaught of a violent wind. He was a formidable man when he wasn’t angry, and she’d often seen him use his physical size to intimidate people. Although she’d never once backed down from him, she now fought the urge to turn from his wrath.

She drew herself up with every ounce of her courage. “Then un-announce it. I’m not marrying you. Not now. Not ever…”

 THE COMANCHERO'S BRIDE

Kindle | Print | KindleUnlimited

also available in the boxed set

UNDER A WESTERN SKY

Kindle | KindleUnlimited

Until next time,

Kaye Spencer

As I don’t send a newsletter, you might consider following me on these social media venues:

Amazon Author Page | BookBub | Blog | Twitter