Sweet Saturday Samples/Christmas in September

From upcoming Christmas Regency release: The Toymaker

The neat row of dolls regarding him from his work bench reminded Phillip of the debutantes lining the walls at the last ball he’d attended… four, no five years earlier. Of course, those young ladies had been wearing fashionable white or washed-out blush-colored gowns in delicate silks and lace. He stepped back and considered his own line of debutantes, rather liking the bolder colors Monique had used for their dresses — emerald green, apple red, sapphire, amethyst. They looked a bit forlorn, a little like some of the ladies who were never asked for a dance. Maybe he should consider creating a line of men to go with them.

Silly! What young girl would want to play with a doll fashioned like a boy? He shook his head at his momentary flight of fancy and picked up a palm-sized slice of wood, already smoothed with a garnet file. The French finish would take quite some time, since each coat of shellac would need to dry thoroughly before the next could be applied. The rubbing pad of soft gray wool had already been dampened with oil. Phillip picked it up and dipped it into the basin of shellac. Next, with gentle wiping movements, he applied a thin coat of the finish to the block of wood.

As he worked, his mind drifted back a few days… to Madame Duroche’s shop and the lovely but conservative young woman he’d managed to irritate with his choice of color. A smile lifted his lips and a chuckle escaped. Angry as a cat that had been doused with water, that one had been. A deep rose blush had colored her cheeks and her eyes had flashed just before she’d narrowed a blue-eyed glare on him. Phillip suspected only her need to maintain a sense of decorum in the presence of her grandmother had allowed her to hold her tongue.

But he’d been right. Her ire had heightened her color so she had not longer been pale and wraithlike. Such a complexion would wear well with the rich purples of the velvet Monique had offered. He had no idea why apparently she was having a difficult time of it, getting noticed by suitors, but wearing the amethyst would gain her some much deserved attention from young men of noble origins.

His hand slipped, marring the surface of the block of wood he held. Cursing under his breath, Phillip adjusted his hold on the block and drew the cloth pad over the piece of oak until the surface was once again flawless. He set the block onto the wooden rack to dry and picked up the next to repeat the process.

<><><><>A Lot Like a Lady – still 99 cents on Amazon and Barnes & Noble!

<><><>Recently released –
A little contemporary western magic!

<><>Just released –
more of the Conway family…
Semper Fi, Marine Families!



My titles are available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble

**Due to unforeseen family circumstances on the part of both Kim Bowman and myself, the sequel to A Lot Like A Lady has been delayed but we ARE hard at work on bringing you Annabella’s story. Please accept our apologies for the wait!

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Sweet Saturday Sample

From upcoming release, A Lot Like a Lady, a Regency Romance by Kay Springsteen and Kim Bowman:

Magpie pressed one hand to the gown at her chest, closing the gap, as she reached with her other hand and plucked Will’s letter from the floor. When she bobbed upward again, she stood just outside arm’s reach. Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared like a scared horse when her lips parted and she drew in a sharp breath. But she didn’t step back.

“This must have fallen from your desk, your grace,” she whispered. “It may be of…impor…tance.” Her voice wobbled ever so slightly.

“Thank you,” murmured Grey, accepting the paper and tossing it on his desk. “It is…merely a letter from my brother.”

“Your brother?” Magpie blinked several times, confusion clouding her gaze. “Oh, yes. William.”

The sound of Will’s name on her lips raised Grey’s ire, and he took a step forward. “Why is it you seem to have such trouble using my name yet the names of other men so easily roll past your lips?”

Magpie retreated a step. “I-I…don’t know what you mean.”

“Indeed. ‘Are you unwell, your grace?’…’The ball was lovely, your grace.’” Grey inched forward. “‘Thank you for seeing me to bed, your grace’…”

With a soft gasp, the little bird took another step away, but found herself trapped with her back to his desk. “I’m sorry, your—I…”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly and she seemed to shrink into herself. Grey was well aware he intimidated her, even more so as he stepped closer to her. She swallowed hard. The spun gold of her hair reflected the firelight as it caressed her shoulders, and he ran the flats of his thumbs across the ends of his fingers, yearning to thread his hands through those silky tresses. The heat from the fire was as nothing compared to the need that seared him, beginning in his belly and flashing through his veins.

She trembled…or perhaps he did.

He sighed, and then found himself pleading softly, “Do you think—just this once—you might find it within you to call me by my name?”

Of a sudden, the tension drained from her and Magpie straightened her back. Then she smiled, and a hint of mischief sparked in her eyes. “Which name would that be, Graeme Roland Dominick Markwythe?”

Grey’s throat went dry when she spoke his name. He struggled to swallow back the rise of emotion from his chest.

“Or perhaps I should just call you…Grey,” she whispered as he crowded her against the desk.

“Grey,” he murmured as his mouth brushed over hers and retreated a fraction. “Definitely Grey.” He crushed his lips to hers. His body exploded in a conflagration of shameless desire, and Grey settled his hands on the magpie’s waist, spanning it with splayed fingers. When she didn’t resist, he gave himself over to the moment and molded her gentle curves against him.

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Sweet Saturday Sample 02/04/12

From work in progress The 13 of Hearts – tentatively scheduled for July 2012.

Her wallet was decidedly lighter when she returned it to her purse after paying for their meal, but it was worth it to give Nate and RJ just the tiniest bit of a normal Friday night. She wished their budget extended to renting a movie for the temperamental DVD player Mrs. Dalton had allowed her to set up in the room, but even a dollar in the Big Box was pushing it after their meal out. One day it wouldn’t have to be one or the other, she vowed, picking up the tray of food and turning from the counter.

The man in line behind her stepped back out of her way, but too late. Lin ran blindly into his chest. The large vanilla milkshake slid forward and Lin could only watch with horror as it tipped over the half-inch lip of the tray and dumped the frozen concoction down the front of the man’s olive green T-shirt. White globs slid slowly toward the floor like melting snowballs and landed with large plops.

“I-I-I’m s-so sorry,” stammered Lin.

The man blinked once as though stunned. Then he looked down at the mess on his shirt and blinked again. Another shapeless blob rolled down and landed with a splat on the tip of the man’s white athletic shoe.

Lin shook herself out of her daze and moved quickly to set her tray on the counter behind her. She grabbed a handful of napkins, and then used her other hand to grab even more. “I’m so sorry. It’s completely my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She began wiping at the mess, dismayed to find all the cheap paper napkins did was push the slop around. “Oh, these aren’t working.” She brightened. “But I have some baby wipes in my car that’ll probably help. We can just step—”

Without warning, the stranger clamped his hand around Lin’s wrist. “Stop.”

“Oh!” Lin cried out in surprise and then froze in place, trying to control the trembling that had started with his sudden movement. Her eyes went wide and she settled her gaze on his hand grasping her arm, struggling to catch her breath as her heart galloped madly in her chest.

The man followed her gaze and instantly released her, staring at his hand as though he couldn’t believe it belonged on the end of his arm. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and then raised his face and café au lait eyes looked into hers. “Sorry,” he repeated. He removed the wad of napkins from her fingers and his mouth twitched upward into a weak smile. “It’s my fault. I was crowding the line.” He finished smearing the milkshake around on his shirt and chucked the napkins into the trash. “It’s nothing that won’t come out in the wash.”

“I-I should have been watching where I was going…”

The scowl on the strangers face pushed the words on Lin’s tongue back down her throat and she backed up a step.

“Okay, um, I have to get going. I’m really sorry.” Lin turned to the counter where she’d left the meal, grasped the tray firmly in both hands and fled to the seating area.


Also part of the series and available now (click on a picture for more information):

Coming in May 2012: Everlasting Echoes, book 3 in the Echoes of Orson’s Folly series:

          And still 99 cents on Amazon:


Come back next week for a special announcement regarding a special project.

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