Another trip down anthology memory lane by Kaye Spencer #prairierosepubs #westernromance #anthology

In my June article (HERE), I revisited an anthology Prairie Rose Publications put out in the summer of 2014 (Lassoing a Mail-Order Bride).

For my July article, I’m revisiting another PRP anthology that saw its one-year publishing anniversary on July 4, 2020—

– a collection of six western historical novellas
that are hotter than a two dollar pistol and 4^th of July fireworks –

        

The stories and their authors are:

• Fake Marriage with a Dash of Desire by Karen Michelle Nutt
• The Lady Piano Player by J. Arlene Culiner
• Duty by Angela Raines
• Diamond Jack’s Angel by Elizabeth Clements
• A Summer to Remember by Julie Lence
• Give My Love to Rose by Kaye Spencer

A little more about my story—

Music often inspires my stories. In the case of Give My Love to Rose, Johnny Cash’s song of the same name gave me the basic idea for the plot. Rose in his song became my main character. The man who came across the dying man in my story is a deputy U.S. Marshal.

Here’s the song.

And here’s an excerpt.

Clint Callahan stopped a few feet from the covered front porch. “Is this the Griffin place? Lon Griffin’s?”

“Yes. It is.” The younger of the two women came forward, her gaze dragging from the back of the mule to look at him. “I’m Rose Griffin. This is my mother-in-law, Bess.”

Clint’s mental image of Rose crashed. Rose was hardly more than a girl, and Lon was…Well, he was old enough to be her father, maybe even grandfather. This put a different slant on the situation, and he wasn’t altogether comfortable with it.

Rose’s chin lifted with the set of her shoulders. “Was he dead when you found him?”

This was the hardest part, explaining. A woman’s reaction revealed much about her character. He’d seen it all from throwing themselves on the body in fits of wailing grief to outright joy the no-good scoundrel was dead.

“No. I found him at dusk not far from the railroad tracks.” Clint dismounted. “He’d fallen out of the saddle and lacked the strength to get up. When I knelt beside him, I could tell he didn’t have much time left. I asked his name and where he was going. He said he had to get home to Rose. I told him I’d take him home, but he was in too much pain to move. I offered to fetch you. He said no. He didn’t want to—”

“—to die alone,” Rose murmured.

Clint nodded. “Yes, ma’am. There was a buffalo wallow off from the tracks where the night wind wouldn’t hit us straight on, so I got him laid out on his bedroll. I put up a makeshift lean-to over him and built a fire close by. I boiled a piece of jerky and helped him sip on the broth. He dozed off and on all night. Sometimes he muttered nonsense in his sleep, other times he was wide awake and making sense. He must have told me his life’s story.”

Available on Amazon.com

Kindle | KindleUnlimited | Print

Until next time,

Kaye Spencer

Stay in contact with Kaye—

Amazon Author Page | Instagram | Blog | Twitter | Pinterest | Facebook | BookBub

A memory trip down Anthology Lane by Kaye Spencer #westernromance #anthology #prairierosepubs

June 2014—  Six years ago... Prairie Rose Publications released the mail-order bride anthology that included the first story I wrote for PRP.

Ain’t it funny how time slips away? ;-)

Back to our regular broadcast after that commercial interruption from Willie.

This anthology is Lassoing a Mail-Order Bride, and it has four novellas:

• THESE ROUGH DREAMS—Cheryl Pierson
• HER HURRY-UP HUSBAND—Tanya Hanson
• THE BIG UNEASY—Kathleen Rice Adams
• A PERMANENT WOMAN—Kaye Spencer

Available on Amazon. Click HERE.

Set-up for an excerpt from A Permanent Woman— 

Widower Simon Driscoll lost his only son and daughter-in-law, with whom he was estranged, in a cholera epidemic. He receives al letter as next of kin granting him custody of his three grandchildren, who he has never met. The children are in an orphanage, and he cannot take custody unless he shows up with a wife and the documentation to prove the marriage is legal. He has 90 days before he loses his grandchildren, and a month has already passed. Desperate men take desperate measures…

Reputation tarnished and professional career compromised, Tessa Morris wants to start a new life—somewhere, anywhere, as long as that place is far away from here. The problem is, where? Other than attending a university, she’s never lived anywhere else. As the community latest pariah, the life and career she’s built in her hometown is finished. At 42, her future seems grim at best. When she happens upon a recent edition of the Matrimony Courier, she finds herself intrigued by one of the advertisements for a wife. That she doesn’t bother her in the least, because desperate women take desperate measures…

 

EXCERPT

“Excuse me. Mr. Perlman directed me here. I’m responding to an advertisement in the Matrimony Courier. Are you Simon Driscoll?”

Simon closed his eyes, fortifying himself to face another woman with a façade of interest. “Yes, I’m Simon Driscoll. Your name?”

“Tessa Morris.”

He opened his eyes, frowning as he mentally ticked off the names on the list. Still gazing out the window, he asked, “Did you send a letter under a different name? I don’t recall a Mrs. Morris.”

“Miss. Miss Morris. I’ve never been married and, no, I didn’t send a letter. In fact, I came across your advertisement but five days ago.”

Simon turned. “I’m sorry, but the deadline—” The words died on his lips. Ben was in the doorway, pointing to the woman and nodding.

“Mr. Driscoll, is something wrong?” She followed Simon’s stare and looked over her shoulder right as Ben stepped out of the doorway.

His insides went topsy-turvy. Ben had a way with people. He couldn’t leave him to talk to this woman alone.

No letter of introduction. He didn’t know anything about her, and he sure as hell didn’t know what to say.

“You’re quite pale, Mr. Driscoll. I think you should sit.”

He cut her a sidelong glance. She was close enough that he could feel her body heat, and the scent of her perfume made him a little lightheaded. When she took hold of his hand, the soft warmth of her touch made his heart leap into his throat. She led him to a chair and, situating herself beside him, positioned hers so their knees touched. His breath hitched, and he scooted his chair, which prompted her to move her chair even closer. He was too old for parlor games, and she seemed determined to make him uncomfortable with her casual familiarity. The other women had kept a safe, proper distance across the table barricade.

She filled a glass with water from the pitcher at hand and gave it to him. “Here, drink this. You’ll feel better.”

Dumbly, he accepted the water, but she didn’t let go when he wrapped his big hand around the glass, trapping her fingers under his. It gave him a start, and he released his grasp like he’d been burned. That’s when he looked at her. Really looked.

Damn.

A Permanent Woman is also available as a single-sell.

Click HERE.

 

 

Until next time,
Kaye Spencer

Stay in contact with Kaye—

Amazon Author Page | Instagram | Blog | Twitter | Pinterest | Facebook | BookBub