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An author with The Wild Rose Press, I strive to bring authors and readers together with a touch of Heart, Soul, and Happily Ever After.

Wednesday, November 14, 2018

Thankful Author 2018- CB Clark


I have so much I’m thankful for. I’ve been blessed with a loving and healthy family, good friends, a warm, comfortable home, nutritious food, and a safe environment. How lucky am I? 

Millions of people in this world don’t have enough food to eat. There are the homeless, civilians in war-ravaged countries, and countless refugees who risk their lives to flee their homes and escape to safer places. 

This past year has been challenging. I lost a parent, two close friends are struggling with cancer, and due to a bug I picked up on my travels, I have lingering health issues. It would be so easy to dwell on these negatives, but when I look at the big picture, I realize how fortunate I am both personally and professionally. My fourth book, published by The Wild Rose Press, was released this year, and two of my books were made into audible books. My publisher has also contracted another romantic suspense, and that book should be out in early 2019.

Though I may face challenges, and not every day is golden, I’m much better off than so many others. This is the time of year I remind myself of the importance of appreciating what I have, and I try and lend a hand to others who are less fortunate. 

I wish each and every one of you a wonderful Thanksgiving and happiness in the months ahead!


Blurb
After five years of hell with an abusive husband, Natasha Hartford vows never to trust another man. Then she stumbles onto a murder scene and meets sexy, stubborn Homicide Detective Chase Brandon, a take-no-prisoners tough guy who’ll settle for nothing less than the truth. Sparks fly, but Chase’s suspicions and Natasha’s innate distrust block the way to happiness. 
The detective struggles with his own troubled past and is determined to find the truth behind the shadows dimming Natasha's eyes. As more murders occur and a possible connection to her ex-husband appears, Chase fears her life is in danger. 
Natasha and Chase race to find the killer before he strikes again. Their survival depends on their willingness to overcome their mistrust of one another. Will they overcome their fears and find love again?

Excerpt
The thick carpet muted the tapping of her high heels as she fled through the reception area and down the hall to the elevators. In spite of her cowardly retreat, she wanted to shout in triumph. She’d been terrified of angering the surly detective, but she’d dragged up her courage and told him what she thought. Blood buzzed through her veins, fueled by the adrenaline rush. Damn. It was good to have her old fire back.
She glanced down a short corridor on her left and stumbled to a stop. How had she missed the ropes of yellow police tape blocking the entry to one of the rooms? Her breath hitched in her throat. That must be where the grisly crime had occurred.
The shocking truth struck her like a blow—Jonas Waverley was dead. Murdered in cold blood. She staggered and grabbed onto the wall.
“Ms. Hartford, wait.”
She glanced back.
Detective Brandon strode along the corridor toward her, his long legs eating up the distance, a determined expression on his face.
Her earlier spurt of courage vanished, and she whirled and dashed toward the bank of elevators. Chest heaving, heart pounding, she hit the button for the elevator, jabbing it again and again.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he said, catching up. “I was hard on you, but I’m just doing my job. A man was murdered.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I have to examine every possible lead, question every person of interest.”
She shuddered and stabbed the down button again. Person of interest? Her? She was a person of interest in a murder investigation?
“Can we go somewhere and talk?”
She shot him a look, making it clear what she thought of his suggestion.
He lifted one shoulder. “Maybe we could grab a coffee? I have a few more questions I’d like to ask.”
The elevator pinged, and the doors opened with a hiss, revealing a middle-aged man and an elderly woman who stared at them with vague interest.
Natasha stumbled toward the elevator.
Detective Brandon grabbed her arm, holding her back. “Ms. Hartford, wait.”
Warmth from his large tanned hand seeped through the thin material of her raincoat and raised goose bumps on her arm. “Let me go.” Her voice was shrill with rising hysteria. She tugged, but he held on, his grip tightening.

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Author Bio
C.B. has always loved reading, especially romances, but it wasn’t until she lost her voice for a year that she considered writing her own romantic suspense stories. She grew up in Canada’s Northwest Territories and Yukon. Graduating with a degree in Anthropology and Archaeology, she has worked as an archaeologist and an educator. She enjoys hiking, canoeing, and snowshoeing with her husband and dog near her home in the wilderness of central British Columbia.

Thankful Author 2018- Peggy Jaeger


Blessings come in many shapes and take different forms for different people. Sometimes a blessing is a gift, given to you just when you need it the most. Other times, it can be the fact that someone was thinking about you and reached out, never knowing you were having a horrible day. Their out-of-the-blue connection helped you get through that tough time. A blessing can also be a notion that was put in your head that sparked into a full fledged idea, and then with a little elbow grease and good luck, blossomed into something that changed your life – or the lives of others.

However you define it, a blessing is always – ALWAYS – as Martha Stewart is fond of saying, A Good Thing.
           
I’m blessed in many ways. I’m healthy. I have a wonderful and close family unit and structure. I have my faith that gets me though everything on a daily basis. I live in a country where I’m not imprisoned for having an opinion. I have a roof over my head, warm clothes in the winter, and more food on the table than I can ever eat. I get to do what I love for a living and I am supported by friends and family in whatever I try.

I never take those blessings for granted. Never.
Ever.

And I tend to think I am the exception to the norm, especially during the current time we live in. In the affluent community I reside in there are homeless citizens begging on the streets. There are children who are separated from their families and living in foster homes because of incarceration or drug addiction issues with their parents. There are elderly people who must choose between eating and paying their winter fuel bill. There are children who have no access to new, warm winter clothes. There are veterans suffering from PTSD without access to the help they need. There are families who have nowhere safe to live because of the economic ravishes brought about by job loss or illness.

Where are the blessings for these people? Where is their hope?

I know I’m lucky. Believe me, I know that there, but for the Grace of God, go I.

So what’s the point of this ramble you ask? If I’m so blessed, what am I droning on about?

Just this: if you are as blessed as I am, have you ever thought about being a blessing to someone else?

Maybe reaching out and volunteering to serve a meal or two at your local food shelter/pantry? Donating the clothes you haven’t worn since you bought them to a shelter for those who have nothing but what’s on their backs?

Have you ever thought of purchasing a few extra food items when you do your weekly grocery shopping and  then donating it to your church food pantry, or the local food bank?

Have you ever adopted a child or a family for Christmas and helped them with the cost of much needed winter wear or even the ability to give a few toys to the kids?

Have you ever thought what your life would be like without your blessings?
I have. I was one of those kids who didn’t have enough food at times when I was growing up. I didn’t have a new winter coat and had to wear one two sizes too small and missing some buttons. I had no winter boots to guard against the frigid, wet snow. And because I remember what that time was like, I honor the blessings I have now by giving back. By volunteering. By trying to make someone else’s life better.

Thanksgiving is a reflective time for most people. If it is for you and you realize how good you have it, maybe you’ll consider being someone’s angel this year.

Maybe you’ll decide to be a blessing to a person or family who needs one.
Believe me, the blessings you have are nothing compared to the ones you give to others.


Blurb

Colleen O’Dowd manages a thriving bridal business with her sisters in Heaven, New Hampshire. After fleeing Manhattan and her cheating ex-fiancĂ©, Colleen still believes in happily ever afters. But with a demanding business to run, her sisters to look after, and their 93-year-old grandmother to keep out of trouble, she's worried she’ll never find Mr. Right. 

Playboy Slade Harrington doesn’t believe in marriage. His father’s six weddings have taught him life is better as an unencumbered single guy. But Slade loves his little sister. He'll do anything for her, including footing the bill for her dream wedding. He doesn’t plan on losing his heart to a smart-mouthed, gorgeous wedding planner, though. 

When her ex-fiancĂ© comes back into the picture, Colleen must choose between Mr. Right and Mr. Right Now. 

Excerpt

I stared at him for a moment, mulling over how I wanted to ask him what I’d been dying to ask since we’d been in my office.

Finally, because there was no other way to get around it but bluntly, I said, “I feel like we need to discuss your father. Come to a decision about where he fits in the wedding.”

When the warmth in his expression shifted to ice, a weaker-willed person might have stopped there. Since I’m not weak and my parents have always told me I have a real problem with knowing when to quit, I pushed on. “It seems to me as if Isabella wants him to be included. Whether in a father-of-the-bride role, or simply as a guest, I really do think she’d like him to attend, but, for whatever reason, she’s reluctant to press you on it.”

Did I say ice? What’s colder than ice? Because whatever it is, that was the expression floating in Slade’s eyes right then as he glared at me.

Warning bells blared in my head, but that thing about me not knowing when to quit? Yeah, it’s real.

“I think Isabella’s afraid of upsetting you if she tells you how she feels or asks your permission. She loves you so much and respects your opinion.”

“You don’t know anything about my sister. Or me.” He lowered his hands from his hips, kept them fisted at his sides. “Or our relationship with our father.”

“True, but I get the sense—”

He barreled over me as if I hadn’t said a word.

“You’ve been hired to do a job, Miss O’Dowd. I suggest you do it and keep your thoughts about my family to yourself. You’re a wedding planner, not a family counselor.” His voice dropped a level, deepening as it became softer. The cadence became clipped, the tone more...lethal.

If this was the way he acted in business, it was a wonder he hadn’t been convicted of corporate homicide yet.

“Look, I’m not asking simply to be nosy,” I said, my voice rising in opposition to his. “I really do have to plan all this out. There’s still the rehearsal and the dinner after it left to deal with. Then there’s the reception seating. Plus, if he is included, I’ll need to make sure he has a room, a tuxedo, and find out if he’s bringing a guest.”

“What aren’t you understanding about this, Miss O’Dowd?” Slade asked, taking a step toward me. If he’d thought to intimidate me with his height, he’d miscalculated. Retreat wasn’t a word in my lexicon. I simply lifted my chin and stared right back at him.

“I understand a lot more than you think, Mr. Harrington. About all sorts of things. Arrogant and pigheaded men included.”

When he continued to stand like a plank of wood in front of me, his mouth turning down and creasing the sides of his jaw, I knew—knew—I should stop.

But...

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Blurb

Hope Kildaire gave up her dream of becoming a nurse practitioner when a car accident killed her father and left her mother an invalid. Working two jobs and caring for her mother leaves the twenty-seven-year-old with no time for fun or relationships. When a law firm representing her paternal grandparents sends her several letters, Hope ignores them. She despises the family who disowned her father and wants nothing to do with them.

Lawyer Tyler Coleman's job is simply to obtain Hope's signature on a legal document. Getting it is harder than planned, though, when an unexpected attraction blossoms between them. If Ty is honest with Hope about why he's in Willow Springs, he'll fulfill his assignment but may risk hurting her.

The opportunity to have everything she's ever desired is at Hope's fingertips. Will her dream come true at the expense of Tyler's love?

Excerpt

As he started back toward the inn, his hands secured in his pockets against the night chill and his neck burrowed under his scarf, he realized he needed to tell her who he was before this went any further. He should have done it tonight, as he’d originally planned. Why he hadn’t was as clear to him as the night sky above: he was frightened once she knew the truth she’d want nothing to do with him.

Could he blame her? While he hadn’t outright lied, he hadn’t told her the truth, either. Which was worse? An intentional fabrication or a lie of omission? Both felt equally wrong right now.

Disappointment had clouded her face when he’d broken their kiss. She felt something for him. That look proved it. He could only hope once she knew who he really was and why he was in her home town, she’d be able to forgive his subterfuge.

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