Debonair Dog

Max's musings…

To Catch a Shadow

Book #3 in the Shadow Series
To Catch a Shadow 
is now available.

Matthew braved the war and the trail to be with her, and has finally uncovered Rebekah's secret and won her heart. Now, Anthony Friedmont, Caroline's husband, has returned and taken his wife, and Rebekah has gone out to find her. Putting them both in danger.

Matthew and his cousin Clay track the women to a camp and find several dead men but no women, and no Anthony among the dead. Following the tracks and the clues, Matthew learns that Rebekah and Caroline are now captives of Chief Gray Eagle of the Sioux and Anthony is back at Fort Laramie. For he and Rebekah to have a future, Matthew will have to win the women's freedom from the Chief, but first he has to face Anthony, and hopefully, lay Rebekah's past to rest.

Excerpt-- 

            Standing Water smiled as he sat back down outside the tepee where he could hear and understand everything they said.

So Golden Hair's name was Rebekah. Courageous woman. Beautiful woman. Stubborn woman. She reminded him of the wife he once had. The wife he'd lost. The wife whose death he still wanted to avenge.

She was as dark as Rebekah was light. She too was a white woman, but that didn't stop her own people from violently taking her life and that of his baby son. He'd found her when he'd gone to live in his father's world. He'd learned much in the white world; so much he actually believed he could live there forever. But the untimely death of his wife and son taught him just how bigoted people could be.

In hatred, he had since turned his back on all he'd learned, but the lessons never left completely. They continued to haunt him. Mystic beliefs and old traditions warred with the new belief in the white man's God. He held them at bay, but now, because of Rebekah the tempest was unleashed and rising.

If he were the warrior of his people, he would not wait. He would take her. Make her his woman. It would make no difference whether she was Cavanaugh's or not. But the missionary's words of God rang in his ears. He had accepted this God, known this God, turned his back on this God in anger.

Now, just when he thought he could make something of his life again, that same God had returned to wage war for his soul. How could he live among his people again if he wasn't the warrior he should be? It drove him to distraction. The Golden Warrior did the same. He held his head in his hands and listened.

Also look for:

When Shadows Fall 

 As the Civil War rages, Rebekah fights to keep her world intact. But loss and sorrow has seeped into her heart and mind. She sets her sights on Oregon, praying this new Eden will allow her a place of peace and a place to put her life, and that of her son's, back together again. She travels to Independence, Missouri ready to take the train west, but is denied the opportunity to join the train because she is woman alone. 

Matthew battles his way through one fight after another, all the while thinking of Rebekah. The woman who holds his heart. He longs to help her west, but fears his biggest battle lies ahead of him. Will Rebekah open up her heart to him and allow him to be the one to hold her When the Shadows Fall?

Shadowed Dreams 

Matthew has braved the war and near death with one thought in mind… Rebekah. He won her hand in marriage, and now he has a few short months to make her see how much he loves her. How much he needs her. Given the wall she's put up between them, he prays he'll have enough time. 

After fleeing the war, Rebekah is determined to go west to Oregon, only to be turned down when she tries to join the train. Matthew's proposal of marriage, in name only to help her west, becomes the miracle she needs. Loving him as she does, she dreads the idea of letting him go once they reach Oregon, but how can she ask him to stay with her, to love her? How could he love her once he's found out her secret? She must guard her heart and his.

In the Manor of the Ghost

Available Now in Paperback

It's the 1870's. The Civil War has long since been fought and laid to rest, settlers are still joining the wagon trains and heading west to the New Eden. The land is changing. But those who dwell in Clayborne Manor seem trapped in time.

Trapped amid the whispers of failure and sorrow, whispers of longing and defeat. Kaitlin hears them clearly at night. But who haunts Clayborne Manor? The ghost that restlessly walks the halls in the night? Or the ones that plague the minds and spirits of those residing there? Though not inclined to believe the dead can walk the night laden corridors, Kaitlin can see them clearly in the eyes of her husband Devlin, and hear them in the deafening silence of her son, Derrick.

Does she have the courage to search the past and face the ghosts? Does she have the faith to stay and direct all those who dwell In the Manor of the Ghost to the one who sets the captive free?

Enjoy this Excerpt

     Kaitlin hid behind her menu, her shroud, trying to catch her breath. All she wanted to do was stare at her husband. But her face was heated, so she studied her menu and fought to keep her eyes from wandering to Devlin. When she could read no more she turned her attention to Derrick and was struck by the similarities between father and son.

     Derrick would be a lady-killer when he grew up, Kaitlin was certain. All one had to do was look at his father to know. And Kaitlin eyes, lord help them, were intent on looking.

     Her heart thundered in her chest when she realized he looked back.

     Kaitlin was never so happy to see anyone as she was to see Tilly, their waitress for the evening. It gave her an excuse to tear her eyes away from Devlin, and the girl looked so much better. Kaitlin felt the tears well in her eyes.

     Devlin studied the girl then met his wife's gaze. "Those look familiar?" he said of the clothes Tilly wore.

     "They were in the trunk. Maybe they're your mother's."

     He nodded slowly as if he recalled the gown. Then he turned his attention to Tilly. "Good evening, Tilly," he said with a soft grin. "I'm glad to see you're up and about."

     Kaitlin was warmed by his words.
"Sir, thank you, sir." Tilly curtsied and turned beet red.
Kaitlin covered her grin. She knew exactly how Tilly felt under Devlin's gaze. He would be the topic of conversation in the kitchen once Tilly was able to get back and tell Louisa. Perhaps that explained her stammering when she tried to take their order?

     Kaitlin thought to remind Tilly that it was easier to write when one looked at the paper, but she had her own problems. How did she order, even speak, with Devlin there?

     Did the man know what a hazard he was?

     Kaitlin took a deep breath and made her order.

     Devlin laughed. "You're right, your German is atrocious," he replied after hearing her annihilate the language. "Why don't I order?" he suggested then proceeded to do so with such flawless diction, Kaitlin wondered if he'd been talking German since birth.

     "Why, Mr. Clayborne, you are a man of mystery."

     Too many mysteries.

     "Is that good or bad?" He winked.

     "I'd say it's good," she said then turned to study the room so she wouldn't have to look in those deep dark and very beautiful eyes.

Available at:

Desert Breeze Publishing:

In the Manor of the Ghost

Amazon:

In the Manor of the Ghost

  

Barnes & Noble

In the Manor of the Ghost

  

Christian Books Distributors

In the Manor of the Ghost

Marketing 101 -- Julie Lessman

Julie Lessman is an award-winning author whose tagline of "Passion With a Purpose" underscores her intense passion for both God and romance. Winner of the 2009 ACFW Debut Author of the Year and Holt Medallion Awards of Merit for Best First Book and Long Inspirational, Julie is also the recipient of 14 Romance Writers of America awards and was voted by readers as "Borders Best of 2009 So Far: Your Favorite Fiction." Chosen as the #1 Romance Fiction Author of the Year in the Family Fiction magazine 2012 and 2011 Readers Choice Awards, Julie was also awarded #1 Historical Fiction Author of the Year in that same poll and #3 Author of the Year, #4 Novel of the Year and #3 Series of the year. She resides in Missouri with her husband, daughter, son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter and is the author of "The Daughters of Boston" series--A Passion Most Pure, A Passion Redeemed, and A Passion Denied. Book 1 in her "Winds of Change" series A Hope Undaunted ranked #5 on Booklist's Top 10 Inspirational Fiction for 2010. You can contact Julie through her website at www.julielessman.com

Leave a comment for a chance to win your choice of one of Julie's books. You'll find her beautiful covers after she shares her tips on marketing.

Marketing 101

1.) Are you agented? Do you feel it important to have an agent?

Yes, I am with Natasha Kern Literary Agency, an agent who, I might add, is one of the best in the business. And if you don’t believe me, believe the fact that she sold me in a 3-book deal within six months after four years of trying on my own with 39 rejections.

And do I feel it’s important to have an agent?? Absolutely, and, in fact, it’s point #7 on my publication tips—go for an agent first, publisher second. Case in point: I actually pitched A Passion Most Pure to my current editor at a conference two years prior. Would you believe it was still in her slush pile when she contracted me? It took my agent’s reputation for excellence to finally get my manuscript a serious look.

2.) What percentage of your marketing falls to your house and agent?

I have no way of knowing if this is true, but I feel that about 75% of my marketing is done by my publisher and 24% by me and maybe 1% by my agent.

3.) Do you have a brand? Why is it important to have a brand?

Well, an author “brand” is basically an image, perception or identity to market a particular author. For instance, my “image” in the CBA is of an author who writes Christian romance that is more romantically (and I hope, more spiritually) passionate than the average Inspy romance. Thus my tagline is “Passion with a Purpose.”

I think this “branding” is important because you want the readers to remember YOU, not a particular title or genre. I want them to walk into a bookstore and ask for anything written by Julie Lessman, not just specify “A Passion Most Pure” or “Christian Romance.” Think of it like ordering a Pepsi instead of just a “cola,” you know? When I walk into a restaurant or store and buy a Pepsi, I know I am going to get a cola with more carbonation that tingles my tongue. Likewise, when ordering a Julie Lessman book rather than, let’s say, an Amish book—my brand assures the reader that when it comes to romance, there will definitely be more “tingle.”

I think another reason branding is important because it solidifies your reader base. What I mean by that is when a reader is looking for what I have to offer—clean and spiritual romantic passion—they identify my name with that, not only for themselves, but for their friends who are looking for the same. According to the American Religious Identification Survey conducted by the Barna Group, “nine out of ten women nationwide consider themselves to be Christian.” Unfortunately, the majority of these women turn to the secular market to satisfy their need for compelling novels with strong romantic passion. But wouldn't it be wonderful if they were drawn to a novel of passion and encountered God's ideas on sexuality along the way? Hopefully my brand will help to accomplish that.

4.) Are you on any social networks? (Twitter, FB, Pinterest, Linked In. etc.)

Yes, Facebook, Twitter, and Amazon Author Page.

5.) Book clubs? (ACFW, Goodreads, Etc.)

ACFW and Goodreads.

6.) Writing Groups? (ACFW, yahoo groups, etc.)

ACFW, Christian Fiction Writers, Christian Review of Books, The Book Club Network, Writers to Encourage, Fiction Addiction Fix.

7.) Do you feel being in these groups are important? Do they help you with promotion? Give an example of how?

Yes, because any networking you can do helps with promotion, and in the case of the groups above, I am able to promote my books via giveaways or announcements.

8.) How much time do you spend on these sites?

About 15-30 minutes a day.

9.) Can you over promote yourself?

I don’t see how … J

10.) Do you have a blog? How often do you blog?

Yes, I am part of a fabulous group blog of authors called Seekerville that encourages, teaches, prays for and promotes writers on the road to publication, and I blog about once a month there. Then I have my own personal blog which is called Journal Jots  where my reader friends (I hate the word “fans”!) can learn what I'm up to on my books, giveaways, fun things I'm doing or even my own personal devotional for the day, and I blog here once a week on Fridays.

11.) Do you use book trailers? Do you feel they are useful for promotion? Vlogs?

No, I do not. Yes, I think they can be useful for promotion if done well, as Vlogs can be as well.

12.) What do you know about Author Videos?

Not sure if this is the same thing, but CBD.com has video-interviewed me several times, and I think it’s a great idea for promotion for both the author and the bookseller.

13.) Do you travel for book signings and other promotion? How often? What would take to be prepared?

Rarely anymore because quite frankly, I don’t think they’re worth the time and effort that has to go in to it. I do think it’s a real plus if you can teach workshops at ACFW, however, which Ruth Axtell Morren and myself did last year together. But the prep time is a killer, submitting workshop application, writing the workshop, creating handouts, practice, etc.

14.) Do you attend conferences? Other than learning and getting to talk with editors and agents do feel conferences are beneficial in marketing?

I usually always attend ACFW and yes, I do feel conferences are beneficial in marketing, especially if there is a bookstore or book signing involved like with ACFW.

15.) Do you use libraries for promotion? How?

Rarely, although I’ve done a couple of Skype workshops with libraries.

16.) Have you ever stopped doing a certain kind of promotion because you found it'd didn't work for you? Or was a waste of your time.

Yes, book signings and in some cases, blog interviews with giveaways because it’s a lot of time spent for very little return, although I do continue with some blog interviews because I love interacting with my reader friends via comments.

17.) Do you do public speaking? Do you feel that is important for promotion? What other public venues do you use for marketing?

Yes, I do some public speaking, and yes, I think it is very important for promotion. Other public venues include radio, newspaper and magazine interviews.

18.) What have you found to be some of the best uses of your energies for marketing?

Blog tours, Facebook and Twitter.

19.) What marketing ideas or guideline might you give an author who is just starting out?

Blog tours, FB, Amazon, CBD Author Pages, personal blog, group blog, Twitter, FB party giveaways.

20.) Do you hold contests? Do giveaways? Have they been helpful for promotion? Why or Why not?

All the time—in blog giveaways and newsletter contests, which I post on my website calendar and on my website “Contest” tab, and yes, I think they are helpful because they A.) hopefully get your book in a new reader’s hands and B.) Solidify a personal relationship with a reader.

Love At Any Cost

A Hope Undaunted

A Heart Revealed 

A Love Surrendered  

                              

A Passion Denied  

A Passion Most Pure

A Passion Redeemed

NOTE: I HAVE AN EXCERPTS PAGE ON MY WEBSITE WITH SPIRITUAL AND ROMANTIC EXCERPTS FOR EACH BOOK, OS HERE'S THAT LINK: http://www.julielessman.com/excerpts/

HERE'S ONE FROM A HOPE UNDAUNTED:

“Katie, are you okay?” Luke loosened his tie and stared, concern creasing his brow as he watched her, her body slumped at the window with a hand to her eyes. She didn’t move, and the tightness in his gut increased. He approached quietly, afraid he would startle her. “Katie?”

“Oh!” She whirled around, staggering against the sill with a hand to her chest.

He clutched her arm to steady her, and the color drained from her cheeks. Softening his hold, he absently grazed her skin with his thumb, then ducked his head and smiled, eyes tender as he studied her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. Are you all right?”

She nodded stiffly, her gaze glued to the massive hand on her arm.

Worry wrinkled the bridge of his nose and he braced both palms on her shoulders, convinced something was wrong. Her face was white and her breathing labored, and he could swear he felt a hint of a tremble. “No, I can feel it. Something’s bothering you.” He pressed his hand to her forehead. “Are you sick?”

She jerked back from his hold and butted up against the window, arms crossed and hugging her waist. “No!” she said too quickly to suit him, clearly avoiding his eyes. “I mean maybe a little dizzy, but nothing serious. I just need to go home …”

He shifted, suddenly concerned it had to do with him. He plunged his hands in his pockets and softened his tone. “Katie … is it me? Did I say or do something to upset you?”
She shook her head, gaze bonded to the floor. “No, Luke, really, please, I just need to—”

He nudged her chin up with his thumb, and her lips parted with a sharp intake of breath. And then he saw it. The gentle rise and fall of her chest, the soft rose in her cheeks, the skittish look in her eyes, flitting to his lips and then quickly away. Comprehension suddenly oozed through him like heated honey purling through his veins. Could it be? Was it possible that cold, callous Katie O’Connor was beginning to warm up? To him, of all people—Cluny McGee, the leper from her past? The thought sent warm ripples of shock through his body, thinning the air in his lungs. His gaze gentled, taking in the vulnerability in her eyes, the fear in her face, and all he wanted to do was hold her, reassure her.

As if under a spell, his gaze was drawn to her lips, parted and full, and the sound of her shallow breathing filled him with a fierce longing. “Oh, Katie,” he whispered, no power over the pull he was suddenly feeling. In slow motion, he bent toward her, closing his eyes  to caress her mouth with his own. A weak gasp escaped her as she stiffened, but he couldn’t relent. The taste of her lips was far more than he bargained for, and he drew her close with a raspy groan. With a fierce hold, he cupped the back of her neck and kissed her deeply, gently, possessive in his touch. His fingers twined in her hair, desperate to explore.

And then all at once, beyond his comprehension, her body melded to his with an answering groan, and he was shocked when her mouth rivaled his with equal demand. Desire licked through him, searing his body and then his conscience. With a heated shudder, he gripped her arms and pushed her back, his breathing ragged as he held her at bay. “We can’t do this,” he whispered. He dropped his hold and exhaled, gouging shaky fingers through disheveled hair. His gaze returned, capturing hers and riddled with regret. “Believe me, Katie, as much as I want to, I’ve learned the hard way to take things slow. I should have never started this, and I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”

Forgive him? She stared at him through glazed eyes, her pulse still pumping in her veins at a ridiculous rate. She never wanted this, couldn’t stand the sight of him, and now here she was, tingling from his touch and desperate for more. Addicted to the “King of Misery.” The very thought inflamed both fury and desire at the same time, muddling her mind. Dear Lord, she was torn between welding her lips to his or slapping him silly. With a tight press of her mouth, she opted for the second and smacked him clean across the face.

His jaw dropped a full inch, complemented nicely by a slash of red across his cheek.
Her chest was heaving, but at least it wasn’t from his touch. She narrowed her eyes and clutched her fists at her side, not all that sure she wouldn’t slap him again. “So help me, if you ever touch me again, you will be the sorriest person alive.”

He slowly rubbed his cheek with the side of his hand, exercising his jaw as if to make sure it still worked. His eyes glinted like blue glass, sharp and deadly. Even so, the swaggering smile of old eased across his face. He bent forward, his tall frame looming over her like a bad omen, and his voice held that cocky drawl so reminiscent of his past. “What’s the matter, Katie Rose,” he whispered, “does my touch make you nervous?”
The heat in her cheeks went straight to her temper. She iced him with a cool gaze. “Nervous? Around you? Hardly. You can dress up in a suit all you like, Luke McGee, but to me you’ll always be the same cocky street brat with a twang in your voice and grime on your face.”
She knew her words hit their mark when a red blotch crawled up the back of his neck like a rash gone awry. A nerve pulsed in his temple, but his smile never wavered despite the steel edge of his jaw. One blond brow jagged high in challenge. “Is that a fact? Well then, how about a little experiment? Kind of like when you were eleven and I bet you couldn’t be nice?”

He leaned close, his voice as hard as his eyes. “What d’ya bet I can make you nervous now?”

She tried to shove him out of the way. “I’m going home.”

“Not yet,” he whispered, blocking her in with a push to the wall. His voice, like the dominance of his hold, was a force to be reckoned with. “You always packed a wallop for a little girl, Katydid, but this time you picked the wrong street brat. You can turn your nose up at me all you want, but we both know that slap wasn’t so much about an innocent kiss …” He bent close, his eyes on fire and his breath hot  against her face. “As how it made you feel.”

His words seemed to vibrate through her, low and thick in the air. She shuddered, and the force of his savage look trapped all protest in  her throat.

“To you I’ll always be riff-raff, something vulgar and crude. Well, welcome to my world, Miss O’Connor. And, please, let me show you how we do it on the ‘streets.’ Because if I’m going to take a beating, you can bet your bottom dollar on two things for sure. One—I’m going to get my money’s worth.” A dangerous smile surfaced as his gaze focused on her lips. “And two …” His mouth hovered just above hers while his voice trailed to a whisper. “I’m gonna make you real nervous in the process.”

In a catch of her breath, he took her mouth by force, his late-day beard rough against her skin. A faint moan escaped her lips and all resistance fled, burned away by the heat of his touch, leaving her weak and wanting. His mouth roamed at will, no longer gentle as he devoured her, ravenous against the smooth curve of her throat, the soft flesh of her ear. With a guttural groan, he jerked her close with powerful arms, consuming her mouth with a kiss surely driven by the sheer will to ravage.

And then in a frantic beat of her heart, he shoved her away. She gasped, numb as she thudded against the wall. His chest was heaving and his eyes were hard, focused on her with cool disregard. “There. Now that makes two of the sorriest people alive.” He grabbed her purse from the floor and threw it on her desk, then rubbed his mouth with the side of his hand. “Better run home, Katydid. God knows the riff-raff that roam the street this time of night.”
He turned and walked into his office, slamming the door hard.

She stared, her body still quivering from his rage. Closing her eyes, she sagged against the wall, too stunned to move and too shaken to care. She pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, her lips swollen from the taste of him. She was doomed, she realized, and the thought shivered through her like a cold chill. She wanted a man she didn’t really want, and the very notion weakened her at the knees. He had called her one of the sorriest people alive. She grappled for her purse and put a hand to her eyes.

And God help her, she was.