Guess what? Today and tomorrow (5/11-5/12), Sarah's Heart is free on Amazon. I recently had the good fortune to gain back my rights to this book, previously published as Sarah's Journey, and re-write it. I like the new version released by Books We Love, Ltd., so much better, and I'm hoping Amazon will garner the attention I feel this book deserves...all positive of course (in my dreams.)
As far as good fortune goes...you'll notice I'm one of over 2600 authors featuring Jimmy Thomas on their cover. I wasn't a big fan until I found the right picture and got to know him via email. He is the nicest and funniest guy, and most helpful. I volunteered to do a "cougar" cover with him, but for reasons my mirror tells me, I don't expect any phone calls to set up an appointment. *lol*
I thought I might share one of my favorite scenes with you here and see if you like it. Oh...I guess I should share the blurb, too, so you'll know what the book is about:
Blurb:
Will the man of mixed blood
save her life, or will she save his?
When Sarah Collins sets her
sights on California for a new beginning, she never dreams a war party will
attack the wagon train she travels on.
She and her new-found friend Molly are the sole survivors, but when
Molly succumbs to her injuries, Sarah is left alone to find her way back to
civilization. While trying to mount a stolen horse, she suffers a rattlesnake
bite that threatens to accomplish what the Indians failed. Is it her time to die or does Sarah
have a purpose she's yet to discover?
Excerpt:
The orange sun had drifted closer to the horizon. Sarah
scanned the trail from her lofty perch and grimaced. She saw nothing in the
distance but endless prairie; no more trees or hills. At the thought of
sleeping out in the open, being easy prey for scavengers and in plain sight of
possible marauding Indians, she shivered. And she certainly didn’t want to
catch up with the buffalo.
She eyed
the tree crotch where her belongings were nested and thought of the possibility
of staying put until daylight. She’d never slept in a tree before, but given
her choices, it seemed the best solution. The weather was mild enough that her
jacket would keep her warm, and she could lean her head against her bedroll. She
inched down, and while holding everything, she tried to get into a comfortable
position. With her feet resting on one branch and her bottom supported by the
trunk, she tucked her valise next to her body and held her gun in her lap. The
hard wagon bed had been more comfortable than this.
The sun turned the sky into a pallet of pastels before
the blazing orange orb disappeared below the horizon. She held her breath as
the last thread of light faded and night encompassed her. The breeze that had
earlier rustled the leaves fell still, and the silence of the empty prairie
sent a shiver down her spine. Realizing isolation she’d never felt before, she
sensed a lump forming in her throat. The loneliness when her ma and pa had
passed had been horrid, but at least there were other humans around. Now, she
felt like the only person in the world.
***
Hours had passed, and no matter how hard Sarah tried,
she couldn’t sleep. Her legs had long ago turned numb, and her bottom ached
from being in the same position for so long. She moved her upper body, trying
to work out some of the kinks, wondering if the night would ever end. Her
eyelids were leaden, but still sleep evaded her. Even nestled securely in the
tree, her nerves were on edge. She heard noises below her—creatures of the
night rutting for food, and she prayed none of them knew how to climb. After
adjusting her bedroll beneath her head for the hundredth time, she quietly
hummed a lullaby. It helped drown out the skittering sounds and brought back
memories of her mother’s angelic voice.
Pain in her spine woke her; she was surprised that she
had finally nodded off. She dangled her legs on either side of the branch and
sat forward, arching her back. The half moon sat high enough in the sky to
filter though the leaves and light the ebony night. The tree's shadow stretched
out on the ground below, creating a monstrous profile, but somehow the night
didn’t seem so menacing. Sarah still kept her pistol close and grumbled at her
predicament. The illuminating slice above her showed it close to midnight;
another half of the night remained. Frustration made her want to cry. She
adjusted her position one more time and leaned back into the hammock of limbs.
Fatigue won the battle over discomfort, and Sarah
slept. In her dreams, she walked with Molly, telling tales, sharing laughter,
and… Something summoned her
back to awareness… a slow and steady ‘clopping’ slicing through their gaiety. She
opened her eyes and tilted one ear upward to listen. The sound was real, not
part of the dream, although it did resemble the steady hoof beats she recalled
when Mr. Simms rode up and down the wagon train. Her mind whirled. Other
animals had hooves. Maybe a buffalo strayed from the herd… a deer looking for
water? Perhaps an Indian? Fear clutched her at her chest and
stole her breath.
Sarah's bladder suddenly begged to be emptied. She
constricted her stomach muscles and tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling. Remaining
frozen in place, she locked her hand around the butt of her gun, keeping one
finger poised on the trigger.
