Thursday, April 30, 2015


Slapping reins and creaking wheels disturbed the dawn's silence as Walt drove out of the yard.  Cecile waved on last time then stood shivering until he had disappeared from sight.

Suddenly, the quiet returned, this time bringing a hollow feeling that forced out her tears.  Gazing around through the blur, he realized how truly alone she was.  Just her and the animals, at least that's what she hoped as she ducked inside and closed the front door, sliding the locking bar across it.

The warmth inside felt good  next to the fire.  She choked back her sadness and resolved to be brave.  A little extra work never hurt anyone, and time alone would let her reflect on her life.  Well-earned blisters grated nosily together when she rubbed her palms back and forth over the flames, and she grimaced, knowing she would only earn more with her added chores.  What happened to those blemish-free hands she once had?

Her thoughts turned to Walt.  Where was he now?  Was he thinking of her?  She smiled, picturing his handsome face and appreciating how wonderful he made her feel.  Despite her nervousness at the moment, her life was better because he was part of it.  She looked around the dismal room, realizing she could life anywhere as long as they were together.

Although tempted to crawl back into bed and sleep until her husband came home, she admonished herself for acting so childish.  She donned her work clothes, imagining the look on her father's face if he saw her dressed for farming.  His little girl milking the cow and gathering eggs; he'd faint dead away.  She forced herself out of the cabin's coziness into the cool morning air.

"Okay Bossie, here I come.  My hands are nice and warm for you."

Destiny's Bride is available with my other work at Amazon.  This was my debut novel that earned four stars from The Romantic Times...back in 2003 when it was entitled, Prairie Peace.  If I could redo this novel again, I'd adhere to all the rules I've learned since then.  Thank you Books We Love for giving Cecile another chance.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Movie Quote Trivia ~ Are You Up For The Challenge?

I love movies, and certain lines have stuck with me over the years. I thought it'd be fun to play a game of Movie Quote Trivia. I'll give you three quotes, ones I consider easy, medium, and Movie Buff! Can you name the movie and better yet, the character who said the lines? Try not to cheat!

1) Easy

"So we finish the 18th and he's gonna stiff me. And I say, 'Hey, Lama, hey, how about a little something, you know, for the effort, you know?' And he says, 'Oh, uh, there won't be any money, but when you die, on your deathbed, you will receive total consciousness.' So I got that going for me, which is nice."

2) Medium

"How 'bout this for a number? Six. That's how old my other daughter is, eight is the age of my son, two is how many times I've been married - and divorced; sixteen is the number of dollars I have in my bank account. 850-3943. That's my phone number, and with all the numbers I gave you, I'm guessing zero is the number of times you're gonna call it."

3) Movie Buff

"Funny enough, I was just talking to my friend about that. Our speedometer has melted and as a result it's very hard to see with any degree of accuracy exactly how fast we were going."

Good luck! I'll post the answers on Saturday. Thanks for playing along.


Tuesday, April 28, 2015


Borrowed from Google Images
Sarah's Getaway
Ginger Simpson

The storm raged, and the silhouettes of dancing trees shone through the window with each lightning strike. After each flash, a crack of thunder rent the air and rumbled the old cabin walls.  Sarah huddled in a corner, shivering  beneath a blanket wrapped around her shoulders to ward off the cold.  The electricity was out, and there was no way she dared venture outside for wood to light the fireplace.  So much for a weekend getaway to forget the stress of working. What she wouldn’t give to be back in the city, snuggled in her big comfy bed with her hunky husband, Wolf, but those days were gone...wiped away the night he was killed in a car accident six months ago. Now she traveled, in a trance-like state, back and forth to the publishing office that employed her.

Her thoughts were jarred by another loud boom.  Startled, she curled into a smaller ball and pulled her woolen cover tighter.  Somewhere in the forest, a tree crashed to the ground and the floor quaked beneath her feet. Despite mourning her husband’s death, her mouth curled into a smile as the oft-asked question, “if a tree falls in the forest…” crossed her mind.  At least the timber hadn’t fallen on the mountain vacation home she and Wolf had purchased together, and that was a good thing, however from the distance between the thunder and lightning, the tempest swirled right overhead.  Maybe she hadn’t escaped Mother Nature’s vengeance yet.  Sometimes Sarah prayed for death too.  Her faith dangled the hope that she would be reunited with her beloved husband.

Sarah’s pocket quivered from the pulsation of her cellphone.  She’d turned the ringer off while she worked on her first novel, but now didn’t mind a distraction from researching the old west.  Writing the genre brought her closer to her dearly departed.  She fished for her phone and grasped it, then held it to her ear.  

“Hello.”  She answered as thunder roared overhead again, causing her to duck her head to her meet her folded knees.

No one answered.  

“Hello!”  Sarah yelled a second response into the mouthpiece, still huddled in her woolen cocoon.

This is the first page from my current WIP which will be the followup to Sarah's Heart and Passion. I truly loved that story and wanted to continue the saga. Sadly, Wolf's passing is going to make a big impact on Sarah's life. I hope you'll be as anxious as I am to see what happens.

Sunday, April 26, 2015

Two Sentence Horror Stories

These are great. I posted them on another blog a couple of years ago, but they still intrigue me. I wish I could take credit for any of them but I can't. Enjoy! ~ Jamie Hill
If you're looking for a horrifying story that will keep you up tonight, don't waste all that time watching a horror movie. Reddit has provided us with pages of terrifying horror stories wrapped up in two sentences or less. Here are some favorite stories guaranteed to make you keep your lights on tonight. 

1. Therealhatman
I woke up to hear knocking on glass. At first, I thought it was the window until I heard it come from the mirror again.

2. Jmperson
The last thing I saw was my alarm clock flashing 12:07 before she pushed her long rotting nails through my chest, her other hand muffling my screams. I sat bolt upright, relieved it was only a dream, but as I saw my alarm clock read 12:06, I heard my closet door creak open.

3. Miami_Metro
Growing up with cats and dogs, I got used to the sounds of scratching at my door while I slept. Now that I live alone, it is much more unsettling.

4. EvilSteveDave
In all of the time that I've lived alone in this house, I swear to God I've closed more doors than I've opened.

5. Drrd777
A girl heard her mom yell her name from downstairs, so she got up and started to head down. As she got to the stairs, her mom pulled her into her room and said "I heard that, too."

6. Calamitosity
She asked why I was breathing so heavily. I wasn't.

7. The_D_String
My wife woke me up last night to tell me there was an intruder in our house. She was murdered by an intruder 2 years ago.

8. Doctordevice
I awoke to the sound of the baby monitor crackling with a voice comforting my firstborn child. As I adjusted to a new position, my arm brushed against my wife, sleeping next to me.

9. Hangukbrian
I always thought my cat had a staring problem - she always seemed fixated on my face. Until one day, when I realized that she was always looking just behind me.

10. Wartortlesthebestest
There's nothing like the laughter of a baby. Unless it's 1 a.m. and you're home alone.

11. Vigridarena
I was having a pleasant dream when what sounded like hammering woke me. After that, I could barely hear the muffled sound of dirt covering the coffin over my own screams.

12. Vaultkid321
"I can't sleep," she whispered, crawling into bed with me. I woke up cold, clutching the dress she was buried in.

13. JustAnotherMuffledVo
I begin tucking him into bed and he tells me, "Daddy, check for monsters under my bed." I look underneath for his amusement and see him, another him, under the bed, staring back at me quivering and whispering, "Daddy, there's somebody on my bed."

14. madamimadamimadam
You get home, tired after a long day's work and ready for a relaxing night alone. You reach for the light switch, but another hand is already there.

15. Graboid27
I can't move, breathe, speak or hear and it's so dark all the time. If I knew it would be this lonely, I would have been cremated instead.

16. Aerron
She went upstairs to check on her sleeping toddler. The window was open and the bed was empty.

17. Genetically_witless
I never go to sleep. But I keep waking up.

18. Skuppy
My daughter won't stop crying and screaming in the middle of the night. I visit her grave and ask her to stop, but it doesn't help.

19. Cobaltcollapse
After working a hard day, I came home to see my girlfriend cradling our child. I didn't know which was more frightening, seeing my dead girlfriend and stillborn child, or knowing that someone broke into my apartment to place them there.

20. Guztaluz
There was a picture in my phone of me sleeping. I live alone.

Saturday, April 25, 2015


I'm giving you a teaser from Betrayed which is now on Amazon Countdown. Get your copy while the price is only 99 cents. The special lasts until May 1. I'm currently working on the second in the series, Deceived.

“Ring, damn it!” Cassie sat, curled up on the sofa, and stared at the phone. For the last hour she’d fought with herself about being the one to initiate the call, but her mother’s words echoed in her mind. “Nice girls don’t call boys. They wait.”

Cassie wondered what her mother would think about this whole Internet dating scene. Mom maintained old-fashioned standards, still believing that real men opened doors and threw their cloaks over mud puddles. Cassie opened her own doors and stepped over puddles, but the one thing she couldn’t do was fill the void of loneliness inside herself.

The phone’s loud ring sliced through the silence, startling her and ending her dilemma. She took a deep breath before she answered. She didn’t want to sound too eager.


“Hi, purdy lady.”

Cassie’s heart warmed. She snuggled down on the couch and cuddled the phone between her head and shoulder.

The advertisement claimed: “Find your true love; we’ll match you with the person of your dreams.” Their irritating spam clogged her computer inbox. "Free tonight? Let’s chat." Cassie Fremont thought of hitting the ‘trash’ button, but the promises were alluring. Divorced and so lonely, Cassie signs up for the on-line dating service. What she doesn’t know is the cost of the ticket for her ride on the romantic roller coaster from hell.

Now hop on over to these other blogs and view their Sunday Snippet:

Friday, April 24, 2015


Discussions of religion and politics, as far as many are concerned, are to be avoided at all costs.  Why? We touch on nerves of those who don't share our opinions, and open topics that make us uncomfortable.

Someone has decided there is a time and place, and blogs and loops are not appropriate sites for these two delicate subjects. I'm not sure that's in keeping with the religious following of many, since the Bible, on which Christianity is based, instructs us to spread the gospel...but obviously on someone else's schedule.

I don't often speak on religion because that's something that is felt in the heart and soul.  I have a relationship with God that needs no definition, and does not require that I worship him only on a certain day and place.  I respect those who feel the same as I respect those who bring the Lord to light.

  I do however become very vocal when challenged on politics, because there is so much ignorance involved in why people vote as they do.  Many, many people know nothing of todays events and count on family legacy or party loyalty to manage our lives.  I'm not that naive.  I was born into a democratic family, but I truly believe the time for the two party system has passed and the current structure of the government is devisive.  There should be no aisle to reach across nor another group to blame.  In my opinion, the time has come to abolish the ass and elephant and rely on educating ourselves before we vote... to make sure elected officials represent the interest of their constituents and hold them accountable if they don't.  Somewhere along the line we have relinguished our right to voice or opinions and make them count for something.  It's time for a change and it's time to get rid of the stale, old geezers who have dominated for so long.  We need term limits so that political positions do not become a career with a more-than-healthy pension.  Wouldn't it be wonderful to have someone interested in padding our pockets instead of just their own, but doing it legally?

I read a post on another blog about why we haven't elected a female president and considered it a huge endorsement for a particular female condidate.  I can honestly say, while I believe in female equality, there are certain times when simply being female is not the answer to a problem.  My ex-husband was a police officer, and as stated, I understand women want to wear the uniform of the occupation, but I always held hope that if faced with a 250 pounded opponent, high on drugs, and challenging the law, my hubby's partner would be another man who might provide the bodily support he needed.  Does that make me anti-female?  No makes me logical.  A 120 pound woman is no match for the strength of a man, let alone under the stated circumstances.  Neither can a female president resolve the problems we face with Muslim Extremist nations who hold no woman in regard. I recall when I worked at an institution of higher education, and come commencement day, male Muslim graduates wouldn't even shake the hand of our female Dean as all others did when presented a diploma. We were required to change the entire process and have a male Associate Dean step in and offer his hand.  According to their religion, touching a woman other than their wife is considered sinful.  If you can't shake a President's hand, how much will your ideas and input be regarded?  Not at all, I'd say, and isn't that a critical role of the POTUS?

These are my opinions and I own them, and I force them on no one, but I am always willing to discuss them in a respectful manner.

That said...I didn't write a book to tie to this blog so I suppose I've violated some sort of ethics, and if you see this post as that, I apologize.  My goal is to encourage everyone to vote the candidate and not the party.  Just because your grandpappy voted one way is NOT a reason to continue dependence upon a party that continues to fail us.  To borrow the name of another blog....Wake Up America.

In the case you do want to check out my books.  My Amazon page is a great way to glimpse them all.

Thursday, April 23, 2015


Jennifer stepped outside on the brick patio, needing to escape the continual bragging of the stockbroker whose only subject was himself.  Closing the French doors behind her, she shut out most of the noise and laughter from the party inside, a welcome relief.  

Surprised she had the patio to herself, she rested her hand on the iron railing and inhaled the cool November air, her gaze absorbing the magnificent houses and lush foliage of this elegant Coral Gables neighborhood.  Some day she hoped to have a home of her own, but she knew she could never afford a spacious mansion such as this.  But that was fine with her: a more modest house would suit her nicely.  The fragrance of night-blooming jasmine drifted her way, carried by a light easterly breeze.  She stared upward at the clear sky where a sprinkling of stars and a couple of planets overcame the competition of bright city lights.  She’d return to the party in a few minutes, but for now, she wanted time to herself.  She’d had a rough week and wanted just a few moments alone.

 “A beautiful night, isn’t it?” 

 “Oh!”  She swung around to stare at the stranger,. “You scared me!  You shouldn’t sneak up on a person like that.  I didn’t hear the doors close.”  Dressed in a black suit, white shirt and dark tie, he stood a few feet away, next to the door.  Tall, dark, and handsome.  The cliche slipped easily from her mind, but it was true.  At least his hair was dark, but his skin was the palest she’d ever seen, as if he never got enough sunlight.  On him, the combination was fascinating.  If Helen of Troy had a face that could launch a thousand ships, this man had the good looks to send a rocket to Mars.

 He smiled.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”  He nodded toward the party inside.  “It was getting much too noisy in there.”

 She tilted her head at him.  “I didn’t see you there.” 

 “But I saw you across the room, and I wanted to meet you.  I hope you don’t mind.” 

  His dark eyes focused on her.  Those eyes!  She could gladly sink into them and never come up for air.
 Even here, she caught a faint trace of laughter from inside.  “Normally, I like parties, but sometimes–“  She shrugged.  “–sometimes I like to be by myself.”
 “I, also.  Present company excepted.”  He smiled and moved closer.

Now hop on over to Juliet Waldron's blog for another interesting post:

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

A Jamie Hill by Any Other Name...

The internet is a fun place to hang out, but a person must be wary of what they read online. 

For example, there's this little thing called a Google Alert. Anyone can set it to send an email whenever something about them appears online. I set one up many moons ago so I'd know when a new review came out, or something similar. I get a weekly email from Google. 

You would be amazed at how many Jamie Hills there are online. At least one's a lawyer who tries some really interesting cases. One's a football coach (he has his own Wiki page). One is an actress, on Castle I think it said. One was a contestant on The Amazing Race. And one dated Kenny Chesney, or so the rumor goes. 

None of those are me. My Google alerts are almost never about me. And that's okay. Some of those other Jamie's make for pretty good reading! (Or writing. Do I see a story in here somewhere?)

I am fairly high up on the list when you Google my name, somewhere in the top three or so. My website ranks pretty high, and my Facebook page too. 

At Amazon, if you enter my name under 'books' you'll get a list of my books, and any other books with the name 'Jamie' or 'Hill" in the title or author's name. Sometimes you'll see my author page (big smile, silver locks) and sometimes you'll see a fellow by the same name who writes 'BAM! How to do this or that online' books that sell for 99 cents. It's kind of funny, really.

I'm not sure what this musing is leading up to, other than the hope that anyone who is looking for a book written by me, (big smile, silver locks) will either go to my website: or my publisher's website, Books We Love: and not rely on the list of books you see on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or any other book retailer. There's a Jamie Hill who writes religious books (God Bless her), and one who writes the opposite style (you go, girl!) But if you wonder if I wrote something, please check it out on one of the official websites.

And the next time you see an article that starts the way my recent Google alert did: "A drunken Jamie Hill was arrested..." you can probably rest assured it wasn't me. I rarely drink more than a sip or two, and usually not even that. I'm tracking my calories, and I've no room for that nonsense!

See you around the WWW. 'Til next time,


The Laird
Tricia McGill

It became apparent that most of those left behind were going to sleep in this hall. Most of the children already slept, huddled together in one corner like a litter of puppies. It seemed they were just left to run wild until they collapsed with tiredness. One of the women handed Liz a grubby sheepskin. She stared down at it, and didn't know whether to toss it on the floor, or the fire.
It took about half an hour for them all to finish seeing to their needs. Then, with a lot of shuffling, snorting and friendly pushing and shoving they settled down. Some couples began to make wild noises which could not be construed as anything other than lovemaking. Liz fidgeted. They sure didn't have any inhibitions.
"I guess we may as well make ourselves comfortable near the fire," she suggested, feeling as awkward as a gauche girl. She'd spread the rug to one side of the fireplace where no one else had settled and there was a moment's silence as she and Andrew looked at their makeshift bed. He must have also been doing his best to ignore the muffled giggles, panting and unrestrained sounds of pleasure coming from various spots around the hall.
"Shall we go into the tower and see if anything happens?" Andrew knew his voice came out thick and awkward. Her face was scarlet. With embarrassment, he guessed, not because of the heat thrown by the fire. His head felt as if it was stuffed with cotton wool. "I think you were right, Parker, I shouldn't have had that second cup of booze. It was potent. Well, what do you think? Shall we give it a try?" He gestured to the stairs, endeavouring to act as if they both didn't know that quite a few of the couples spread about the hall were engaged in hot sex. Good God! What a way to live.
"If you like." She coughed again. Poor Liz. She didn't know where to look. "But I have a feeling that nothing will happen without the badge and cloak."
"I'm going to give it a try. You can wait here if you like. But I'm not going to sit about without giving it a go."
Liz didn't fancy going into the darkness of the tower. But the thought of sharing that rug with Andrew was just as daunting. "No way. I'm sticking to you like the proverbial glue. Supposing you did get whisked back, and I'm left here alone?"
"Oh well, you'd have the admirable Travis. He seems quite taken with you. He couldn't seem to drag his eyes off you. And his hands kept wandering to your hair." There was a touch of acid in his tone. Liz glanced sideways at him, but his expression gave nothing away.
"So they did. But if you're going anywhere, I'm going with you."
No one made any attempt to stop them ascending the steps. Liz couldn't stop shaking as they peered into the dark tower room. It wasn't quite as pitch black now the door was open. The flares in sconces high on the walls of the hall had all been extinguished, but the fire still sent out a bright glow. "Wedge something in the gap please, Andrew," she said, knowing she sounded weak and feeble. "We don't want the door to slam on us."
Silently he went down and came back with one of the heavy stools which he propped in the doorway, ignoring the heads lifting from the sparse beds scattered about the hall, and the curious eyes following his every movement. 
Andrew ensured the heavy door was securely fixed ajar, then said, "Right. Hang onto the waistband of the kilt. I'll need both hands free to feel my way around the walls."
Liz didn't need any prompting. She clung, feeling more confident as the warmth from his body surrounded her. She tried to stifle a laugh, but couldn't. This situation was ridiculous.
"Pleased you find it amusing. You have a strange sense of humor, Parker." Privately he was glad she could find something to laugh about. He certainly couldn't see anything amusing about this whole escapade.
"I just think it's odd, don't you? The pair of us shuffling about in this dank dark place like a pair of wombats. Perhaps I'm getting hysterical, and need a good laugh to ease the tension. Do you think we'll ever return?" Her laughter died, and Andrew heard the note of real fear in her voice. For a moment he was tempted to take her in his arms and convince her everything would be all right, that she had nothing to be afraid of. But how could he? The situation seemed hopeless. He was feeling very scared. Not that he would admit it to her.
Blurb for The Laird:

Andrew, a wealthy Australian architect, takes life too seriously, whereas his PA Elizabeth is outgoing and fun-loving; a perfect foil for her somber boss. She is passionate about Celtic lore and language. With great reluctance Andrew answers a plea from his two elderly aunts to travel to Scotland before his uncle dies. He has no desire to visit the land his father left under a cloud many years ago, but Liz persuades him to take her along.
In the draughty and dilapidated castle, while exploring a disused attic, the pair set off a course of events that propel them back in time to 1050 where they meet Travis, coincidentally Andrew's double. 

Previously published as White Clover

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