How Effective are Book Give-a-ways or Contests? by Connie Vines

1. How effective do you think book giveaways or contests are?

The key: forethought (know your audience). Careful planning, media blitzing, and a gimmick are the elements of a very successful contest. By gimmick, I mean a creative approach, one that is not a usual contest pitch.  Am I going to give you any never fail rule/a road map to success?
No--I wish it was only that easy.

You can Google names of media savvy authors.  Or Google my name and look at my website (novelsbyconnievines.com) read my interviews, my archived contest info (the links are still on Google/ Bing, some are available on my web site).  This is not a do-what-you-see-others-do, it more of fact gathering tour.  You know your story/series, and you are the best judge of what will appeal to your fan base.

After all, what is a successfully contest for me, may not spell success for you. If you write historical novels featuring a lineage page (I do enjoy researching genealogy but. . .) your readers would probably adore winning a book of Sonnets.  While my fan base (me included) are happy with a Starbucks gift card and an autographed copy of my latest eBook.

Be creative. Have fun.  If you don’t enjoy your contest, no one else will either.

2. Do you think all the free books through Amazon and the library offered to prime members affect your efforts?

I believe the free reads and lending through Amazon (for prime members) has a positive effect on my efforts in promotion.  I’m willing to try a new author or genre because of the free read offers.  I have purchase 6 books this month as of this Amazon feature.  Since I do not participate in the lending feature, I have no comment.

3. What are the best promotions you've participated in?

I find that interviews generate the most exposure for me. Contests run as a group (with your publisher, online reader/writer group etc.) is second. Guest blogging (see I’m here!), and all of my combined online presence, is third.  I am visible in my community. I judge local and national writing contests, offer workshops and guest speaking engagement.  As for book signings—in the past this was a wonderful way to ‘meet and greet’ readers.  Signing 75 books during a 4-hour event was the norm, now appearances aren’t a sure-fired way to draw readers.

The online shopping experience, or read a book at your local library and purchase it for your book shelf, seems to be the new norm.

I believe to survive in this very completive field, contests, giveaways, and name branding is a must.
After all, a loyal readership is the key to success.  Write that ‘must read’ story that your readers love and keep your name out there!

Readers what's you take on the subject?
Happy Reading,  (remember my novels are part of the Kindle Count Down this month)

See you on Saturday!  I'm going to being trying out a podcast for the blog, too.

Connie

Cowboy Lingo by Connie Vines

When it comes to vocabulary, you could say the cowboy tends to have a rather colorful one. However, I've listed a few words he has retired (or perhaps never used much in the first place).

1. Lasso:

This is a word that was used in the early days of cattle ranching, but fell out of favor fairly early on. Unlike many cowboy words that originated from Spanish descent, this one came from the Portuguese word, “laco,” meaning “to snare.” With the exception of a few California stockmen who continued to use it, the word “lasso” was replaced with “rope” within a few short years of its introduction around the late 1800s to early 1900s. This fact makes the popularity of “lasso” among city slickers, especially journalists, in this day and age even more baffling. Bottom line, a rope is a rope. Acceptable variations include “lariat,” “lass rope” and “twine,” but never “lasso.”

2. Bucking Bronco: 

Another word that originated in the late 1800’s was “bronco,” derived from the Spanish word “potro bronco” meaning “untamed colt.” The “o” was quickly dropped and “bronc” is the word still used today. If you go to a rodeo, you will see two “bronc” riding events, bareback bronc riding and saddle bronc riding. However, if you hear just “bronc riding,” this is normally a reference to “saddle bronc riding,” whereas bareback bronc riding is simply known as “bareback riding.” Likewise, saddle bronc riders are referred to as “bronc riders” and bareback riders are known as such.  Just forget “bucking,”drop the “o” from bronco.

3. Chaps: 

This one is a little confusing. Most cowboy newbies pronounce the word “ch-aps” like “chapstick.” This is improper pronunciation of the word. It is actually pronounced “sh-aps.” As in, “Chantilly”.  And the short, knee or shin length chaps cowboys wear? Well, those are called “chinks,” pronounced exactly like you think it would be. 

4. Cowboy Up: 

Cowboys aren’t really much for following the crowd. If they were, they would be far less mysterious and cool. So, you may still hear this phrase tossed around occasionally, but likely more as a catchy story headline than a jolt of encouragement behind the bucking chutes.

5. Giddy-Up:

I looked this up in Webster’s online dictionary and it is actually a word, spelled giddyap. Meaning: to go ahead or go faster. Now, I have been around cowboys my whole entire life and I have never (not once) heard a cowboy say “giddy-up.” Although I am not sure what the precise origin of the word is, I have heard speculation that it may come from the draft horse driving command “gee up,” which means “go faster.” The only person I recall ever using is a parent sitting a toddler on a rocking horse.

For more cowboy speak, catch Pro-Rodeo interviews on ESPN.

Or, download one of my Rodeo Romance novels!

What Woman Does Love a Cowboy?   

Click to link to Amazon.com!

Hootsuite and Social Media for Authors by Connie Vines

And the debate rages on in the Social Media world!
Hootsuite vs. Buffer—What is the Best Social Media Management App for 2016?
As we (or at least I) have discovered that managing a (my) “mini-social media empire” can be a bit of a mess.

So what makes up Connie’s mini-social media empire? you ask.
• Website (www.novelsbyconnievines.com)
• A Weblog (http://connievines.blogspot.com/)
• Twitter (https://twitter.com/connie_vines)
• Author Facebook Page (https://www.facebook.com/AuthorConnieVines/)
• Good Reads Page (https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/205731.Connie_Vines)
• Cold Coffee Press (http://www.coldcoffeepress.com/connie-vines/)
• Google + (https://plus.google.com/110488573394262216964/posts)
• Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/gothicnovelist/)
• Pinterest (https://www.pinterest.com/novelsbyconniev/)

Is there more?  Of course.  I guest blog at additional sites for book promo and name recognition (for myself and BWL).  I also have my book trailers, podcasts (under construction), promos via CTR, RST, Manic Readers, etc.

Obviously, I was happy to discover that specialized tools have been developed to aid in management.  Of course, Twitter, is still one of the most powerful media tools. Hootsuite and Buffer are two applications that are designed to present a neat interface with social media.

While Hootsuite and Buffer both have similar primary functions; they allow you to manage posts to social media websites by cross-posting at a specific time, thus allowing you to hit the key ‘read time’ of followers/trenders.  Both offer tools to interpret data such as views, click-through links (other customizable tasks are available at additional cost).

My Hootsuite Feed - There is also a scheduling window that will pop-up.

Buffer’s main focus is on Twitter.  While Twitter is a great social media there is a 160-character limit.  Buffer’s claim is for smaller business with less of a focus on profits.

I use the FREE Hootsuite account which allows me to manage up to 3 Social networks.  Since I am able to advance schedule both my social media announcements via Hootsuite and blog posts via Blogger, it’s frees up my 8:00 PM – 11:30 PM time for my writing.

Positive reviews for Hootsuite 2016 can be found at:  www.webmasterwarriors.com/hootsuite-review/

Hootsuite Alternatives:
Buffer
SproutSocial
Viralheat
TweetDeck
Sprinklr
SocialPilot
SocialOomph
SendSocial Media

I have zero personal knowledge of these programs.  However, Tweetdeck looks promising and is FREE.  However, since I already use Twitter, I don’t really see the point of this program.
Writers, are there other social media programs that work for you?

The Standard Twitter Feed

Readers, what is your personal favorite way of connecting with authors?  Is there a social network you really, really like?  Snapchat?  Vine?  Wanelo? Slack? Blab?

Please post comments. I’ll try out the new social media app that readers like and use on a daily (or nearly daily) basis.

Happy Reading and Writing,
Connie Vines

Why We Like Cowboys. by Connie Vines

This is a re-post from March--because, you guessed it, I like cowboys :-)

Who hasn't thought about the cowboys of yesteryear driving cattle across the prairie, a lawman riding for justice, a modern day rodeo cowboy, or the rancher down the road?

What woman hasn't sighed?

There is something about a man in western boots, denim, and a Stetson cowboy hat that makes a woman's heart rate jump and her mouth go dry.

Is it their manners, chivalry, sense of justice, or the fact they take off their hats and say, "Thank you, Ma'am?"  All I know-- Cowboys have the "it" factor for me and many other women.

The swagger of a rodeo cowboy, the set jaw and stance of a lawman, the easy way the rancher leans over the corral fence. . .sigh.  There is something about cowboys

I write about cowboys in both the past and now.  I try to capture the raw maleness that seems to seep from their pours.  These are men who defend a woman honor or protect a child.  Men who will fight barehanded.    They respect women.  I believe it is because in days of the old West, women were few and far between.  Men were happy to have a female to cater to, and wanted them to hang around.

The saying goes:  A cowboy's hands are as strong as steel, as tough as leather, but soft enough to touch a humming bird's wing or the skin of a woman---and not disturbing the beauty of either.

Happy Thursday,

Connie Vines

What Does Shanna Hatfield Like to Do?

Perhaps I shouldn't love it as much as I do, but there are few things I enjoy as much as attending a good rodeo.
A few weeks ago, Captain Cavedweller and I spent a few days in Pendleton, Oregon, attending the world famous Pendleton Round-Up. The first Pendleton Round-Up was held in the early 1900s and has a long, rich history.

One of the great things about going to the Round-Up is the Westward Ho Parade. There isn't a single motorized vehicle in the parade, but there are oodles of horses and vintage conveyances.
I snap bunches of photos so I can pull them up and study the details when I'm working on a story.

It's not every day you have the opportunity to see horses and mules in harnesses (especially spit and polished for a parade).

And you definitely don't see this everyday. These two characters were one of the most talked about entries in the parade. Later, they hung out in the park and let people take photos on the backs of the these tame giants.

Of course, one of the other things I love about the experience, is the rodeo. Since I write a lot about cowboys in general and rodeos in particular, it provides an opportunity for me to capture hundreds of images I can later use for research purposes.

(And for fun!)

Even if this is at a modern-day rodeo, I could easily use this photo to describe a scene of someone riding a bronc in any time frame.

This was my favorite photo of all those I took. This cowboy almost looks like he's performing some intricately choreographed dance move.

And you gotta have a photo of bull riding, even if this ol' boy was a little snotty.

~*~*~

A hopeless romantic with a bit of sarcasm thrown in for good measure, Shanna Hatfield is a bestselling author of sweet romantic fiction written with a healthy dose of humor. In addition to blogging and eating too much chocolate, she is completely smitten with her husband, lovingly known as Captain Cavedweller.

Shanna creates character-driven romances with realistic heroes and heroines. Her historical westerns have been described as “reminiscent of the era captured by Bonanza and The Virginian” while her contemporary works have been called “laugh-out-loud funny, and a little heart-pumping sexy without being explicit in any way.”

She is a member of Western Writers of America, Women Writing the West, and Romance Writers of America.

Find Shanna’s books at:
Amazon | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | Smashwords | Apple

Shanna loves to hear from readers! Follow her online:
ShannaHatfield | Facebook | Pinterest | Goodreads | You Tube | Twitter

Masculine Behavior for Believable Heroes (Part 2) by Connie Vines

Thank you for stopping by for Part 2 of last week’s Dishin’ It Out topic.

Men Make Decisions; Women Form a Consensus

Even though this what I’ve learned in human behavior classes and characterization workshops—this doesn’t hold true for me.  (Perhaps it part of my upbringing in a career military family, or because I am the eldest of five siblings.)  If I state a reason, or decide to explain myself, it is only out of politeness--I’ve already made up my mind.

Now, back to what is typical behavior.

Men state what they want.  Women make their preferences known and often add reasons for their requests.  The reasons are an attempt to convince the other party.  Men do not volunteer reasons.
If you ask a reason, men feel as if they’re being challenged or that you are checking up on them.

And, the behavior guaranteed to make either one/or both of the people involved crazed:

Men Try to Solve Problems; Women Talk About Problems

(I deviate from this too, I do not have the patience to ‘talk something to death.)

Men usually make a decision, act, and move on.  Women usually wallow in the problem before or instead of acting.  Men try to help others solve problems.  Women want to talk about the problems but not necessarily solve them.

Women listen to others to give support; Men listen to others to give advice.

And, TADA, here’s the part that makes partners/friends crazed :-).  A woman who talks to a man expects to receive emotional support, and instead she gets advice.  Women talk to feel better.  This drives a man crazy, if she is that miserable, why doesn’t she do something about it?

Men are Direct; Woman are Indirect

Men tend to make statements.  Women tend to ask questions and even multiple questions.  Men use shorter sentences and fewer of them.  Women use longer sentences and sentences that are more complex and string more of them together.

Women make suggestions rather than state their wishes.

Men’s Actions and Body Language Often Don’t Reflect Their Feelings; Women’s Usually Do

Men are direct when talking about concrete things, but indirect when speaking about emotional issues.  When forced to discuss emotional issues. Men may attempt to distance themselves by avoiding eye contact, slouching, or turning away.

Men tend to sprawl out while talking, especially about a serious subject.  Women tend to gather in. Men sit in relaxed sprawled positions with men or in mixed groups.  Women sit in sprawled positions with other women but sit upright in mixed groups.

I'd like to go into a little more about body language next week.

Stop by next week for Part Three!

Happy Reading and Writing,



Connie

How Plotting and Pedicures Can Work for You by Connie Vines

We've all heard it said that writing is a solitary art.  Is that why we find ourselves creating such deep bonds with other writers who share our passion/obsession?  For whatever the reason, my closest friends are fellow writers.  In fact, we're not so much friends as soul mates caught up on a similar life journey.

While many of my writing friends are cyber friends, conference friends, and RWA Chapters friends, I am fortunate to have several local friends.  One of which I have know since my salad-days when I served on the board of the Pomona Valley Writers' Association.

Several years ago the three of us decided to take a brain-storming retreat in order to take our writing and careers a step further.  We also wanted to reward ourselves for hard-won accomplishments, to to celebrate our successes.

I kept a journal of what went on.  I can't say the structure (or lack there of) will work for every critique group, or circle of writing friends, but it worked for us.

Creating your own Writing Getaway.

• Divide up the duties.  The location, schedule, food, and spa, All  require planning.  There were three of us.  We each emailed each other with update and choices.
• Secure the location.  The room needs to be large enough but must also fit everyone's budget.
• Rough-out a schedule.  One person should be a time keeper.  We worked in two-hour increments with breaks in between.  That way we could focus on one person's story.  This helped because discussions can become rather tense and we needed a break.
• Parameters and Goals. Everyone should state what she/he needs to come away with.  There will be homework.  I plot using The Writer's Journey, Pam is a GMC devotee, and Bev is a seat-of -your-pants writer.  Of course there were empty spaces in our plots but we all had the Beginning, Middle, and End sort-of figured out.
• Be honest--not brutal.  
• Enjoy.  Life is all about the journey.

So were did we meet up?  Since we all live in southern California, we took a discount flight to San Francisco (an hour away) and stayed in a quaint little hotel down town.  We were able to walk a couple of miles to a cafe with great local fair (minus the tourist prices).  The next morning, hopped a cable car to the Fisherman's Wharf to gain some some plotting time while view the bay. 

Our weekend was the most rewarding getaway I've done for myself since I sold my first novel.  I recommend a retreat to anyone who can find the time.  You don't need to fly to get there.  Though I am not an enthusiastic camper, I can pitch a tent and unwillingly sleep on the ground.  Or, book a room at a local bed and breakfast during off season.

End result?  We each finished the plotting out our novels and had a good working knowledge of our characters quirks and goals.  And a deeper friendship too.

Happy Writing & Reading!

Connie  

The Franciscan--our final night in town.
Remember, I'm not a 'camping' kinda girl :-).

Sunday Snippets from Ginger #sundaysnips

Today, I'm sharing snippets from an unedited submission that should be released very soon.  Arizona Sky was published under a different name by another publisher, but I feel it never got a chance to be a hit.  I re-read and re-worked (removed amatuer issues I've learned since writing the story) and believe me, I'd forgotten what a good book it is.  I hope you'll agree.

SNIPPET:

Zach carried her to the other side of the standing wall. A weathered bench sat among broken pottery and rusted utensils. An old coffee pot, dented and missing its lid, rested on its side next to a pile of ashes left by previous travelers. He sat her down on the rickety wooden seat. “Will you be all right while I get our gear?”

She nodded, lowering her head and making a futile attempt to brush the dirty stains from her skirt. “I suppose.”

When he returned, laden with his bedroll and her pack, and both rifles slung across his shoulder, the bench was empty. His breath caught in his throat. He whipped his gaze around and didn’t see her. She couldn’t have gone far.

  Storm nickered loudly. Zach dropped everything and dashed back to where he’d left his horse. Odessa struggled with the reins, trying to lift her foot into the stirrup. Storm snorted and reared. The girl jerked and stepped back when flying hooves clawed the air close to her head.

Zach snared the reins that now dragged the ground. “Shhh, it’s all right, boy. Calm down.”  Storm snorted again and pulled against him.

“What the hell were you…?”   His harsh tone faded when he noticed her eyes were wide as silver dollars, her chest heaving.

“I’m sorry.”  Tears clouded her eyes. “Please don’t have me hung for being a horse thief. I just…” Her chin sagged to her chest and she sobbed.

“Oh, don’t cry. I hate when you women do that.”  Zach clucked his tongue against his teeth. “No one’s getting hung, so stop your caterwauling.”  This wasn’t exactly the reward he expected for his good deed.

Odessa sniffed and swiped her sleeve across her nose. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I’ve been in the sun so long it’s baked my brain. I should be thanking you instead of trying to leave you stranded. Can you forgive me?”

Those eyes again. How could he say no?  He lowered his gaze and kicked at a pebble then looked up. “I guess I can, but how do I know you won’t try it again?  Am I gonna have to tie you up?”

Her mouth gaped. “You wouldn’t?”

“It’s your call. This horse means more to me than you do.”

“I promise I won’t do anything so addlebrained again.” She clasped her hands beneath her chin and flashed a weak grin.

“And why should I trust you?” He cocked his head, still holding the reins.

“Because I give you my word, and my pa, may he rest in peace, taught me about honor.”  She dropped her arms and squared her shoulders.

“I guess you must have forgotten a few minutes ago, huh?” He patted Storm’s forehead. “But then, you don’t know anything about me, so I reckon I understand.”

Her shoulders sagged. “I’ll be good. I swear on my mama’s grave. Pa’s too, if I knew for sure he had one.”

Good news....all of my books are now available via Books We Love.  You click on the cover, download the format you need and pay using a credit card or Paypal....your choice.  So...if you like what you've seen, check out the page and keep an eye out for the cover.  It should be available anyday.  In the meantime, you might enjoy something else I've written: http://www.bookswelove.com/authors/simpson-ginger/

In the meantime...hop on over to the other authors who post Sunday Snippets and see what they have in store:

http://authorjamiehill.blogspot.com/  (Jamie Hill)

http://triciamg.blogspot.com (Tricia McGill)

http://romancingscifi.blogspot.com (Vijaya Schartz)

http://connievines.blogspot.com (Connie Vines)

http://yesterrdayrevisitedhere.blogspot.com/ (Juliet Waldron)

Western Roundup Event - Ginger's Turn Again

Howdy!  I'm back.  This is the last day of the Western Roundup Giveway FOR ME to help you realize your love of the old west. Rita will end our 'tour' tomorrow.  I hope you'll use this link to visit the other participants who have taken time from their busy schedules to share their work and provide winning opportunities for you BUT...not before you read my post.  *smile* 

I'm a definite lover of the old west, and I've written many books to show my passion with Cowboys and Indians.  Today, in White Heart, Lakota Spirit, you get a little of both.  I hope you enjoy what I have to share.

Blurb:

Caught between the world of red and white, how will Grace Cummings choose? A normal morning turns to disaster when a small war party attacks Grace Cummings' family and slaughters everyone but her. She returns to the Lakota camp filled with hatred, anger and fear, but through the help of another white woman in camp, learns the Lakota way. When white soldiers invade the camp and presume to rescue Grace, she must decide where her heart lies.

Excerpt: 

Papa scraped the last speck of egg from his plate and set it aside. “I s’pect Kev and me’ll find gold any day now. People are discoverin’ it all around us. When we make our strike, we can findsome land and build a real house. It’s sure to happen soon… afore summer is past and the weather turns cold. In fact, Sassy, you and yer ma might want to start gatherin’ fair-sized stones and rocks for our fireplace.”

He pointed to the lean-to, still in progress. “In the meantime, Kev and I will finish our temporary shelter, so we can spread out a bit.”

No more climbing in and out of a wagon to sleep. Grace clapped. “Oh, Papa, that sounds so good.”

She sobered and flashed the look that always won him over…the half-pout, wistful gaze. “When we finally settle in our real house, it will be near a town, won’t it? Otherwise, how do you expect me to be courted out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“I’m not so sure I want you to be cour...” He jerked around  and looked over his shoulder. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Kevin asked.

“I hear it, Papa,” Grace chimed in. “Sounds like yelling.”

Her father stood and scanned the horizon. He pointed. “Look. There!”

A group of riders emerged from a dust cloud in the distance. The yelling grew louder as they came closer.

The furrows in her father’s brow frightened Grace. “What is it, Papa?”

He darted for the wagon. “It’s Injuns! Hurry! You two women get inside and keep low. Kevin, get yer rifle!”

Grace’s heartbeat quickened and fear clutched her chest, making it hard to breathe. She’d heard about savages, but never saw one up close. She didn’t want to.

Her mother stood frozen in place. Grace grabbed her hand and pulled. “C’mon, Mama,  we’d better do as Papa says.”

They ran around to the back of the wagon, and her mother boosted her up and over the closed tailgate. Grace dove inside, her mind filled with horrible thoughts. Would she get scalped or worse…were they all going to die? All the while, piercing yells sliced the air while thundering hooves pounded the ground.

Realizing her mother hadn’t followed, Grace rose up on her knees and peeked outside. A pack of whooping Indians rode round and round the wagon, their voices creating a din of eerie screams while bullets exploded. The hair on Grace’s arms stood on end. She covered her ears, crouched against the sidewall and prayed the savages would go away.

Shots rang out from beneath the wagon when Papa and Kevin returned fire. Fretting over her mother, Grace peeked out again. Mama shrieked and grabbed for the tailgate, but a mounted marauder pumped a bullet into her shoulder. She fell, silenced for the moment, but tried to struggle to her feet. The Indian shot her again.

Grace’s screams echoed in her own head. “No! Oh God, Mama,” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “Mamaaaa...”

Overpowered by hopelessness, Grace looked on as the painted rider stopped next to Mama’s fallen body and emptied another round into her. A stream of bright red trickled through the dry dirt, and her beloved mother lay motionless. Bile rose in Grace’s
throat. She collapsed into a cowering heap, silenced her sobs with her hands, and clenched her teeth to keep from screaming.

God hadn’t intervened so maybe the ordeal was all a bad dream and Mama wasn’t really dead. Still, the shooting and whooping continued. Pounding hooves sent dust seeping into the wagon, and Grace sputtered. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t awaken from the terror.

The gunfire suddenly ceased. She listened for the awful war cries but heard nothing but stony silence. Terror brought her breathing in ragged gasps. Were her brother and father still alive? And what about Mama?

Grace wanted to look, but feared what she’d see. Were the Indians gone? Summoning courage, she forced her eyes open and lifted her gaze even with the edge of the tailgate. Her heart seized when she found herself nose to nose with a scarred face covered with paint. Hate-filled eyes glared at her, and in his hand, a wooden club with dangling feathers loomed directly over her head. In fear for her life, she recoiled and covered her mouth to stop the scream rising in her throat.

A second face, not as old or menacing, peered in at her. The younger Indian grabbed the arm of the other and said something indistinguishable. They both stared at her. Tears stung her eyes then drizzled down her cheeks. “Please, don’t kill me, please.

The angry one grabbed her arm and dragged her over the splintered tailgate. A piece of wood pierced her side. She grimaced, scrunched her eyes closed, then hit the ground with a painful thud. Was this the end for her?

The savage stood over her, burning her with his hateful glare. Why? She didn’t know, although she’d heard stories about the Indians’ anger over the miners being in the Black Hills. But to kill over gold? That couldn’t be why. It just couldn’t.

Looking past him, she noticed others still mounted, beyond them the body of her mother. Through blurred eyes, she glanced back to the younger man then scanned beneath the wagon, searching for her papa and brother. Their lifeless bodies lay sprawled next to one another. Her heart ached at the needless loss. She no longer had a family.

She glared up at the Indian whose bright, lightning-bolt markings did little to hide the evidence of his encounter with a sharp blade—a jagged scar ran from his ear to his chin. Well-deserved, she supposed. Despite her grief and trembling legs, rage overcame her. She jumped to her feet and pummeled the chest of the one she believed responsible. He reeked of death.

“You...you savage. I hate you, I hate you,” she yelled.

The younger man grabbed her wrists; the look in his eyes warned her to stop. She lowered her head and stared at the ground. Her falling tears sprinkled the sparse grass and glistened in the sun.

Again, in a language she didn’t comprehend, the two men spoke in raised voices. The older one shoved the younger one away, grabbed Grace’s hands and trussed them together with a long piece of rawhide. Yanking hard on her tether, he pulled her toward his horse. Once mounted, he glowered at her with piercing eyes beneath a brow creased from years of frowning. He nudged his horse forward and led her like a pack mule, slow and steady at
first. She flashed a pleading look back at the younger one, but he mounted his horse and averted his gaze. Why didn’t they just kill her and get it over?

She quickened her pace to keep from falling. Her bare toes struck an occasional rock, and she winced in pain. Now she wished she’d listened to Mama and worn her shoes. Mama! Her wonderful, beautiful, Mama. Through tears, Grace forced herself to glance back for one last look at the family she’d never see again.

**********

White Heart, Lakota Spirit can be found on my Amazon Page with all my other books.  Now, once you've downloaded your own copy (hint, hint), please leave a comment, then feel free to mosey over and visit the other "partners" (link in first paragraph) participatin' in this here roundup.  Thanks a lot for coming and visiting with us this week.  Ya'll come back, ya here?. :)  And keep reading those westerns. You don't have to ride a horse to love a Cowboy!

Western Roundup Event - Ginger Simpson's Up

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Welcome to the Western Roundup Giveaway Hop.  I'm so delighted to be one of the many participants, and I think I speak for my co-blogger, Rita, when I say that western romances are among our favorite genres to write.  During this blog hop, we'll be sharing some of our pertinent work with you, and I'm going to start off today with my debut western historical romance, Prairie Peace, which as "debut" indicates, was my foot in the door of becoming a published author.  I loved the story then, and I love it now, and I was thrilled beyond belief when my very first novel earned a 4-star review from the Romantic Times Magazine.  Back then, they were very tough on e-book authors, and I had an upset stomach until my review actually came through, then I happy danced for a week.  *smile*
This blog event is all about featuring books about Cowboys, but in this story, you also get an Indian Hero.  :)

My impetus for making western historical my primary and favorite genre comes from years of being "fed" a steady diet of TV westerns and reading everything published by Laura Ingalls Wilder when I was in grammar school.  As an adult, my reading passion turned to everything written by Madeline Baker and other western historical authors who, through their amazing "showing" talents, put me into the story and let me walk in the heroines shoes.  I think I managed, with the help of my first editor, to turn my own story telling skills into the showing of an entertaining novel.  I hope you agree.

Blurb:
 In the 1860's, Cecile Palmer is the envy of the single girls of Spring City and the object of every young man's fancy-until she experiences love at first sight. She meets and weds Walt Williams in less than a week. The newlyweds journey to her husband's newly-purchased ranch and a life for which this naive and pampered only child is ill-equipped. A series of events turns her life upside-down. An injured Indian brave stumbles into her doorway while her husband is away. Destiny changes Cecile's life in a way she could never have imagined. She discovers she's pregnant, and when her husband doesn't return with supplies, Lone Eagle offers to take her to winter with his people. She accepts his offer, knowing her chance of surviving on her own is not good. Then a trader comes to the village with evidence Walt may still be alive. Cecile now faces a difficult decision. Self-sacrifice, betrayal and lasting love lay on the rocky road ahead.


Here's an excerpt:

As if sensing her uneasiness, Lone Eagle urged his horse closer and patted her hand.  The entire village came alive, and much to her chagrin, clamored around their horses.  Smiles greeted Lone Eagle, as the people pushed closer, curious to see who rode with him.  She followed his lead, maneuvering her mount through a sea of bodies, while strange hands reached up and tugged at her clothing.  The men viewed her with open curiosity, but the women's hostile stares made her want to spur her horse in the other direction.  As the mob continued to press forward, blocking her path, Lone Eagle took her animal's reins and led her through the crowd.  She sat firmly in the saddle, holding her breath, fighting the panic building inside her.

At the chief's tepee, the masses parted and allowed Lone Eagle to dismount.  Frozen in place, she trained her gaze forward, fearing to look down into the strange faces still surrounding and picking at her.

Next to a distant tepee, apart from the rest of the crowd, one woman stood with arms folded in a domineering stance.  Her coal-black eyes locked in a bone-chilling stare with Cecile's, issuing a silent challenge.

You can find this book along with all my other work on my Amazon page.  To visit the other blog participants, click here for the list of urls.

On the 26th, both Rita Karnopp and I will select a winner to receive their choice of any of the books we've featured during this event.  Hope you'll continue to come back and enter a comment, and don't forget to at least check back at the end of the day on the 26th to see who we announce in the comment's section as our winners.  Two authors, two winners...several choices.  *lol*