Work in Progress sneak peak by Kaye Spencer #prairierosepubs #workinprogress #westernromance

I work on multiple stories at the same time. I write on one until I hit a snag then I hop over to a different story and so forth. Right now, I'm working on two projects that I will submit to Prairie Rose Publications by the end of the summer.

One is a revisiting of a previously published western romance novel that deserves a good revamping prior to republishing. The other is this one that I’m sharing a sneak peek with you. It is a novella-length western romance I’m roughly halfway finished writing. The tentative title is The Locket.

The idea for the story evolved from this postcard I purchased in Kingman, Arizona a few years ago while on a round-trip train ride from Lamar, Colorado to Kingman.

I’ve changed the train robbery to a stagecoach holdup. Kissing the wimmin folk is the spark that lights the story’s fire.

Here’s the kissing scene that fans that plot flame between the hero, John Thomas (aka J.T. Barlow), and the heroine, Ada Snowden. Ada, in failing health and recently widowed, is returning home after being away for twenty years. J.T is a member of an outlaw gang that holds-up the stage she's on. The gang’s leader has demanded Ida relinquish her gold locket. Ida has flatly refused as the locket was a gift from her deceased husband. The leader is about to work her over with quirt when J.T. intervenes.

Excerpt (work in progress and subject to change)

“My parents taught me to respect women, not mistreat them. Besides, a pretty woman should be appreciated, not roughed up.” He looked her over, the lines around his eyes crinkling with amusement. “And you are sure enough a handsome woman—a woman who takes pride in keeping herself up for a man. Mmm mmm mmm.”

The illicit suggestion in his tone sent her hand flying, but he caught her arm before her palm made contact with his face. Never physically mistreated in her life, the iron grip of his fingers clamped around her wrist brought out the fight in her, especially since the sparkle in his eyes said he was still grinning.

“Widow lady, huh?”

“Yes.”She hissed the word through her clenched teeth.

“Where are you headed?”

“Burney Springs, if it’s any of your business.” Ada pulled vainly against his grip.

There was a chuckle in his voice, and the lines around his eyes deepened. “What’s your name?”

“Are you keeping a record of the women you rob?”

“Maybe I am.” He snorted a grunting chuckle. “For posterity.”

Ada saw the flicker of a frown push away the smile around his eyes, and she wondered if she’d touched the fringes of some deeper truth.

“Well,” he prodded. “You have a name?”

“Ada Snowden. Mrs. Snowden to you. I’d ask your name, but I doubt a bandit would give an honest response.”

The taunting gleam in his eyes returned. “Don’t be so hasty to judge. What you see on the outside might be deceiving.” He released her arm as he leaned into her, his broad chest pressing against her bosom. “It’s a matter of pride now. It can’t get out that we show favorites when we rob folks. Our reputations as road agents would be ruined. When we turn to robbing trains and banks…or stealing watermelons from a preacher’s garden, people have to respect us, fear us.” He chuckled softly, amused with himself. He put his gloved hand over hers where it rested protectively over her locket. “Let me have it.”

“No.” Ada grabbed the bottom of his bandana and yanked. Startled, he stepped back. She braced herself, fully expecting he’d strike her. Instead, a slow, widening grin spread over his face. A face with angular, chiseled features, strong jaw, and cleft chin. A face that was nice to look at and made her just a little weak in her already shaky knees.

“I admire a gutsy woman.” Grasping her shoulders with his big hands, he pushed her backwards until she came up hard against the side of the stagecoach with an oompf. “Now that you know my face, here’s something so you won’t forget me.”

He leaned into her. The heat from his body brought the already scorching temperature up several degrees. The moment his lips touched hers, all thoughts of resistance dissolved, and so help her, she closed her eyes and kissed him back. Why she didn’t resist this stranger’s kiss, she didn’t know. Feelings rose from a place deep down inside she’d buried ages before she’d laid her husband to rest two years ago. Neither could she say why when he put his hand over hers again that she loosened her grip on the locket and allowed him to slip his fingers inside hers. With a tug, the clasp broke, and he withdrew the locket as his lips left hers.

“Seems to me you liked that kiss.” The deep husky rasp in his voice suggested he’d gotten more than he’d anticipated. “Maybe it’s the best you’ve ever had.” Tucking the locket into his watch pocket, he pulled up his bandana, returned to his horse, and swung into the saddle. The bandits raced off behind the leader, but the man lingered.

Touching the front of his hat, he said, “Nice to meet you, Ada Snowden. Around these parts, I’m known as John Thomas. Remember my name. I’m gonna be famous.”

Until next time,

Kaye Spencer

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Ghostriders in the Sky and The Gunfighter's Woman by Kaye Spencer

My new release, The Gunfighter's Woman, is a paranormal western romance inspired by the old cowboy song, Ghostriders in the Sky, (Stan Jones 1948).

There are a plethora of recordings of this song including those by Vaughn Monroe, Bing Crosby, Frankie Laine, Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Christopher Lee (the actor), Eddie Arnold, Peggy Lee, Gene Autry, Burl Ives, Sons of the Pioneers, Judy Collins, Roy Clark, Lawrence Welk, Baja Marimba Band, Slim Whitman,Tom Jones, Boston Pops Orchestra, Elvis Presley, Chris LeDoux. Blues Brothers,  Dean Martin, and my favorite, Marty Robbins.


The legend of the ghost rider has its roots in Europe, particularly Britanny, Ireland, Wales, Scandinavia, Spain, France, and Germany. Jacob Grimm of the fairy tales Brothers Grimm, developed the idea of the 'wild hunt' through comparative mythology that he published as Deutsche Mythologie (1835) "...as a folkloristic survival of Germanic pagan tradition, but comparable folk myths are found throughout Northern, Western and Central Europe...The Wild Hunt is an ancient myth of a spectral or otherworldly hunting party that sometimes appears at night."*

The Wild Hunt: Asgårdsreien (1872) by Peter Nicolai Arbo**

 The warrior-leaders most associated with some form and version of the Wild Hunt are Wodin, Wodan, Odin, Herne the Hunter, King Arthur, and Old Nick. A few modern works of literature that use the Wild Hunt myth as part of the story are Sir Artur Conan Doyle's The Hound of the Baskervilles, William Butler Yeats' 1893 poem The Hosting of the Sidhe, and Susan Cooper's 1973 book series The Dark is Rising. There are also comic books, movies, and operas with the wild hunt/ghost rider theme woven throughout or as the predominate story line. I've read that Ghostriders in the Sky was the inspiration for the song Riders on the Storm by the Doors.

I incorporate the wild hunt in the form of the cowboy ghost riders in The Gunfighter's Woman as a motivating force in the hero's life to change his ways. This story was originally published in 2006 as a novella, and now, nine years later and with a significant amount of plot added to the story, it is novel length with a deeper romance and a nastier villain. The ghost riders still want to claim the hero's soul, but he's not going down without a fight now that he's found the love of a good woman.


Blurb:

When beautiful widow Brenna Gérard comes upon semi-conscious gunfighter Matt Caddock, all hell is about to break loose. An unholy storm’s a-brewin’, and Brenna makes a split-second decision to save Matt from the spectral fire-eyed cowboys who forever chase the devil’s herd—and pick up lost souls along the way.

Once they reach the safety of the ranch, Brenna cares for Matt’s wounds and makes him welcome—no questions asked. But Matt must learn to accept the fact that Brenna is being guarded for a while longer by her deceased husband’s spirit—and he’s not leaving her just yet.

Though Matt and Brenna are fast falling in love, there’s the matter of a fortune in gold that stands between them—gold that Matt never wanted, but now must find and use to keep Brenna’s ranch from failing. Archer, an outlaw who Matt once partnered with, wants that gold just as badly—and he’s prepared to kill for it.

Can Matt settle the score with Archer and keep Brenna safe? And when the ghost riders return on the next lightning-laced storm, will they be taking Matt with them? Or will the love of THE GUNFIGHTER’S WOMAN be enough to ensure the future they hope for together?

Excerpt:

“Brenna!” Matt left the bed in one frantic heart-pounding leap, sending the bedside table crashing. “Brenna!” With a Colt clamped in his fist, he stood with his back to the far wall. Raking his gaze over every inch of the moonlit room, he searched the shadows and corners.

The door flew open. “Matt! What—” Whirling out of modesty, she put her back to him.

Matt made a catapulting leap onto the bed, snatched up his trousers, and grabbed Brenna’s arm on his way out of the room. Hustling her along through the kitchen, he hit the porch door with such force it wedged open and ripped the cheesecloth from the upper half.

Words came fast as he pulled on his trousers while clutching his revolver. “Someone… A man. There was a man standing at the foot of my bed. One second he was there and the next he was gone. Just gone. What in hell fire was that? Who was that?”

Brenna’s smile turned to giggles. “Gregory.”

Comprehension arrived on frowning silence. “But…he’s… Hell, you said he was dead. How could he be in that bedroom?” He shook his gun toward the door.

“That was our bedroom, and he died there. I changed bedrooms after he started visiting me in the night. I didn’t think he would return to that bedroom once he began rocking in his chair by the fireplace. Obviously, I was wrong.”

Matt stepped back, his gun arm lowering. “He rocks in a chair?” He blew out a slow, hard breath. “That’s plumb crazy.” Wagging a finger at her, he accused, “I think you’ve been alone out here too long. You’ve got a case of prairie madness.”

Brenna crossed her arms. “Then we’re both crazy. You saw him, too.”

Matt opened his mouth then clamped it shut. “Damn.” Shoving his Colt into the waistband of his trousers, he went to the edge of the porch and stood in the doorway...

Available on Amazon - KindleUnlimited and Purchase - The Gunfighter's Woman

I'll give away two digital copies of The Gunfighter's Woman from comments left on this post. Please leave your contact information with your comment, so I'll have a way to contact you in case I draw your name. I’ll keep this comment-to-win opportunity open until 6:00 p.m. MDT October 15th, 2016.

Until next time,

Kaye
www.kayespencer.com
Writing the West one romance upon a time

*https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wild_Hunt
**http://www.athenasweb.com/MegalithicMyths.html

New from Prairie Rose Publications: The Comanchero’s Bride by Kaye Spencer

      My new release, The Comanchero’s Bride, is a western tale of love, jealousy, and revenge. The story was originally published nine years ago as a 40k novella, but even then as I finished writing the story, I knew there was a larger story to be told.  So, over the ensuing years, I wrote and rewrote the story, and expanded it to its current full-length novel edition that releases today with Prairie Rose Publications.

The story-behind-this-story has two components:

• It is a retelling of the Marty Robbins song, Meet Me Tonight in Laredo.
  AND
• The underlying themes of strength and sacrifice are based on the Germanic rune, Uruz.

So what are runes, and what are the lyrics to the song? Well, I happen to have a quick-read article about runes and Marty Robbins and their relationship to The Comanchero’s Bride. It's just a click away:

The Comanchero’s Bride – from idea to book

 What is the story about?

Beautiful heiress Elizabeth Bradford White is exiled to Texas with family friends until she “comes to her senses” and agrees to marry the prominent politico her parents have chosen for her. Grayson Beal is certainly not the man of her dreams—she finds him so revolting she welcomes her exile and makes a new life for herself in south Texas.

When she is approached at a fiesta by dark-eyed, handsome Mingo Valderas, she knows her heart will never be her own again. But Mingo has a checkered past—a reputation as a Comanchero, and a man who is as fast with his knives as he is with his gun. An ex-outlaw with many secrets, Elizabeth gives her trust to him, and their whirlwind courtship begins.

But Grayson Beal will stop at nothing to claim Elizabeth and her inheritance, along with the political influence her parents have. In a deadly cross-country race for her freedom, only one man stands between her and the monster who follows her. Fueled by their love and dreams of a future together, Elizabeth and Mingo stay one step ahead of Beal…but will that be enough?

Excerpt

In one long, powerful stride, Grayson towered over Elizabeth, 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, and I expect you to do your part with entertaining the right people during our stay. 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, Grayson 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, Elizabeth 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.

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

Grayson grabbed her, slammed his mouth on hers, crushing her lips as he lifted her almost off her feet. Struggling against the iron grip of his bear-like hands, she wrenched an arm free and slapped him with her gloved hand hard enough to knock his spectacles askew. Yanking out of his grasp, she reeled backward. Adjusting his glasses with deliberate care, he appeared outwardly under control, but Elizabeth knew he was seething, and would find some way to punish her for striking him.

“Had I bedded you a year ago, we would not be having this conversation. We’d be married, and there would be a child on the way.”

Until now, she’d never been frightened of him, only annoyed with his loutish manners toward her and everyone else he considered beneath him, but the lusty gleam in his eyes was new. A repulsive, crawling quiver skimmed along her skin.

She sensed movement behind her an instant before she heard the slight jangle of Mingo’s spurs. Whirling, she saw him in the middle of the room, feet spread, coat opened wide, and his eyes glowing with a dark, lethal fire. Grayson took advantage of her distraction and grabbed her arm. Jerking her back, he held her trapped against his body, and the more she struggled, the tighter he held her.

“Hombre, remove your hands from Isabel, or I will kill you where you stand.”

Recognition registered on Grayson’s face that Mingo didn’t wear his gun belt for show. Beal released her. Mingo motioned for her to move behind him. Grayson took his time looking Mingo over as he rubbed the deep red hand print on his cheek and smoothed his hair down.

“What is this Isabel nonsense? And who the hell are you?”

“Domingo Valderas.” His voice was level and sure. “If any man marries Isabel, it will be me.”

Grayson stared then burst into condescending laughter. “You? Good lord, man, you’re nothing but a Mexican—”

“Be careful with your words, pendejo.”

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Comment to win

I'll give away a digital copy of The Comanchero’s Bride to one commenter. Please leave your contact information with your comment, so I'll have a way to contact you in case I draw your name. I’ll keep this comment-to-win opportunity open until 6:00 p.m. MDT March 19^th, 2016.

 

 Until next time,

Kaye Spencer