New Release: Silent Signals, A Cowboy Christmas by @lcarrollbradd

Silent Signals, A Cowboy Christmas series
by Linda Carroll-Bradd
Publisher: Prism Book Group
Release Date: 11/18/16 (24,431 words)

Silent Signals cover

Blurb for Silent Signals:

After losing half his herd in the Great Blizzard of 1886, rancher Konrad Werner needs to safeguard his cattle. Tomboy Anora Huxley trains the Australian Shepherds and Kelpies that run the family’s sheep herd. Although cattlemen and shepherds are at odds, the pair discover common interests. A threat is overheard, and Konrad rides out to Anora’s ranch to protect her. The tense situation reveals their true feelings. Will Anora be swayed by family loyalty, or will she listen to her heart that responds to Konrad’s silent signals?

Available now at Amazon Kindle.

Excerpt:

Mikel returned, dropping two rolls of wire onto the counter. “I have a new shipment of barbed wire too. Perhaps that works better for your needs?”

Konrad turned and laid a hand on the smooth wire. “The fence to pen in my cattle has several components, so this is what I need. But thanks, Toussaint.”

The shopkeeper shrugged. “Some ranchers prefer the barbed.”

“I do too, and I may have to resort to that when the winter weather sets in. But I’ll wait on that purchase.” He leaned his other hand on the counter. “This year, I’m building a brush fence. I’ll use what I can from downed branches and rocks cleared from the field that will be planted in the spring.” He shrugged and straightened.

“Makes sense.” Mikel nodded as he pulled the pencil from his ear. “I remember those types of fences in old country. Uncle had them around his vineyard.”

Konrad was sure his wasn’t the only sad story the store owner had heard over the last year. “Gotta come up with the cheapest solution for protecting my cattle.” He shook his head. “The ranch can’t withstand any more losses like last year.”

“Excuse me, sir.” A female voice floated in the air.

The tone was pitched low, almost intimate. Konrad shifted and raised an eyebrow at the tall woman dressed in an ill-fitting coat and a split skirt that showed several inches of boot-encased legs. “Are you speaking to me?”

“Have you considered using herding dogs to contain your cattle?” The blonde woman took one step closer, her gaze intent.

“No.” This stranger had an opinion about how he ran his ranch? His body stiffened.

“I train the dogs that work the sheep at Green Meadows Ranch, and I don’t see why the dogs couldn’t be used with cattle.” She glanced over her shoulder and then back to connect with his gaze. “The principles are the same, as long as the person uses the right cues.”

He squinted at the green-eyed woman who stood only a few inches shorter than his six-foot height. Wisps of blonde hair had escaped the edges of her plain black bonnet and straggled along her cheeks. Her face was pleasant enough—probably would be more so without the frown creasing her forehead. “Have we met?”

“I apologize, Mr. Werner. I’m Anora Huxley.” A blush reddened her cheeks. “I am acquainted with Gaelle.”

His younger sister by five years. Which explained why he didn’t know this woman from his schooling years. Huxley did sound familiar, though. But he didn’t have time to contemplate why because the woman now stood by his side. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a thick-set scowling man hovering two feet away who looked madder than a newly branded steer. The second member of the arguing duo.

“My dogs are exceedingly smart. A special breed with strong herding instincts. They respond to hand signs and whistles, and from a distance of more than ten rods.”

He held up a hand lest he be stuck here listening to her run down every detail. “I do not wish to be lectured on how to run my ranch. My brush fence will suffice.” Regretting the stiffness of his tone, he lifted a finger to tap the brim of his hat. “Good day, Mrs. Huxley.” He spotted the brief widening of her gaze before scooping up the roll of wire and headed toward the storeroom. Irritation at the outspoken women and her high-handed advice put an extra punch into each footfall.

Cover Contest Finalist

Also, voting is open until November 20th for the winter cover contest sponsored by Still Moment Magazine. I’m proud that Silent Signals is one of ten finalists. To vote, leave the title or the #9 in a comment on the magazine’s Facebook page.

Linda Carroll BraddAbout the Author:

As a young girl, Linda was often found lying on her bed reading about fascinating characters having exciting adventures in places far away and in other time periods. In later years, she read and then started writing romances and achieved her first publication–a confession story. Married with 4 adult children and 2 granddaughters, Linda writes heartwarming contemporary and historical stories with a touch of humor from her home in the southern California mountains.

Linda’s Links:     Website     Blog    Facebook     Twitter     Goodreads

#Holiday #Recipe + Spotlight on Deadly Alliance by @RowlandKathleen #Tirgearr Romantic Suspense

Christmas treats

Photo by belchonock from depositphotos.com

Kathleen Rowland leads off our 2016 Holiday Romance and Recipes author exchange with a spotlight on her romantic suspense, Deadly Alliance, published by Tirgear. Kathleen rings in the holidays with healthy Goat Cheese Tartlets with Spiced Apple-Fig Compote.  This festive appetizer is 50 calories per serving and makes 30 tartlets.

Goat Cheese Tartlets

Goat Cheese Tartlets with Spiced Apple-Fig Compote

Ingredients

  • 30 item(s) mini phyllo shell(s)
  • 1/3 cup(s) fat-free cream cheese, softened
  • 1/3 Tbsp soft-type goat cheese, softened (1/3 cup)
  • 1 item(s) egg white(s)
  • 2 Tbsp honey
  • 1 Tbsp all-purpose flour
  • 2 medium Granny Smith apple, peeled, coarsely grated (about 3/4 cup)
  • 1/2 cup(s) jam, fig variety
  • 1/8 tsp ground allspice
  • 1/4 cup(s) mint leaves, fresh, for garnish

Instructions

  1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Arrange phyllo shells on a cookie sheet.
  2. In a medium bowl, using an electric mixer, combine cream cheese, goat cheese, egg white, honey and flour until thick and creamy, about 5 to 6 minutes; spoon 1 teaspoon of filling in each shell. Bake until set, about 15 minutes; remove from oven and let cool.
  3. Meanwhile, in a small saucepan, combine apple, jam and allspice; set over medium heat. Cook, stirring frequently, until jam melts and mixture thickens slightly (juice from apples will evaporate); remove from heat and let cool to room temperature. Just before serving, spoon 1 teaspoon apple compote onto each tart; garnish with mint. Yields 1 tartlet per serving.

Deadly Alliance coverHere is the blurb for Deadly Alliance:

Finbar Donahue, former Army Ranger, walked on the wild side in Iraq, but now he lives in the shadows. After his evasive partner, Les, was shot in a random drive-by, Finn discovers cash is siphoned monthly. He fights to keep his investment company afloat. When the late partner’s girlfriend, Amy Kintyre, applies for his bookkeeping job, Finn suspects she knows about his company drain and hires her.

Amy needs a nine-to-five with free evenings and weekends to get her fashion design business back on track. She unearths Les’ s secret bank account and alerts Finn. Freezing of the money laundering account sets off havoc within an Irish gang. Amy witnesses a gang fight between a brutal ISIS fundraising organization and the Irish. Desperate to escape a stalker’s crosshairs, she seeks refuge with Finn. As danger heats up, sparks fly hotter.

Deadly Alliance Excerpt:

 The front door opened.

“Sorry, we’re closed.” Holding a broom, the owner of the bar swept behind the bar. Burlie didn’t look up.

Finn stepped closer. Drunken merrymakers, they were not. His heart hammered like it was stuck in overdrive.

“We offer protection.” Speaking with a Spanish accent, the shortest of the trio dressed like the others, and donned the ISIS-style black ski mask.

“I have protection.” Burlie’s big mouth nailed his coffin.

A second thug grabbed the bartender’s hand and pulled out clippers. “You’ll change your mind, one finger at a time.”

“I just paid the Irish.” Panic burrowed into Burlie’s high-pitched cry. He thrashed his arms as he tried to pull his hand back.

“Us you pay.” His utterance with the object in the first position identified him as an Arab speaker.  Light glinted off shiny metal.  The thug pulled a combat knife, grabbed Burlie’s arms, spun him, put the blade to his neck. Finn dialed 911 and then shouted, “Finn Donahue here. Gang trouble. Burlie’s Jazz Club.”  To grab their attention even more, he heaved in a breath and released a long whistle. His distraction worked.

Burlie broke from the hold, and Finn thanked God for the curious.

“Where are you?” Heavy boots pounded toward him.

Finn’s phone vibrated, but he killed the call and darted into the first door he saw, the one with the frosted pink window. He spotted Amy at the sink and pointed his index finger up.

He took off his coat and wrapped it around his fist. After rapping on the glass, he wound up and threw a hard punch through the window. Glass splintered as he connected with the thug’s nose. Prepared to jump aside, he opened the door.

Amy followed and jumped over the guy spread on the floor, holding a hand over his bleeding nose.

He struggled to stand. Finn patted him down, took his gun, and pointed it at him. After the guy stood, Finn walked him to a chair. “Don’t move.”

“I’ll phone the police.” A high-pitched squeal came from the back of her throat. “Never mind. Police are here.”

From the street, the blue light of a cop car radiated across the club’s interior like a strobe. Uniforms burst through the door.

The first officer made radio contact with homicide, and the second, much younger, rushed to the nearest thug and pulled out flex-cuffs.

“Stand over there, Amy.” Finn motioned toward a corner.

She rolled her eyes and dashed toward Burlie who wrestled with the Arab and tried to keep him from moving toward the young rookie. Amy pulled an item from her purse. A Swiss army knife? Out came a miniature cork screw.

The rookie cop turned the Arab around to be handcuffed and leaned him against a wall. The thug used the hard surface as leverage to throw himself against him.

Finn saw it coming. A switchblade sprung from the Arab’s sleeve. In a split second, he drove it into the cop’s shoulder, but Amy stabbed him in the back with the wine opener.

The Arab spun and pulled a knife from his jeans’ pocket. Amy dodged, but he thrust it into a cop’s gut before running.

Finn waited for an opening and shot him in the hip.

 Howling about uncivilized barbarians, he dropped.

Up from his chair, the loser with the broken nose swung his fists, raining blows and a kick to the nuts which Finn deflected.

“Don’t make me shoot you.” Finn stunned him with a chop to the neck, caught him in a headlock. With a gun at his back, he marched him forward.

Amy broke into the center of the room and turned around, taking in the menacing scene. The girl-next-door had street smarts, competency with the corkscrew, and fearless determination.

He walked over and touched her weapon-holding hand. “You didn’t have pocket-knife experience on your resume.” It didn’t make her invincible. Nor did it mean he should hire her.

She shook her head. “Never used it this way. It’s handy when hiking She looked at her pocket knife, folded and stuffed it in her pocket.  Her eyes blinked in frenzy in spite of her bravery.

Available at: Amazon US, Amazon UK and Nook.

Author Kathleen RowlandAbout the Author:

Book Buyers Best finalist Kathleen Rowland is devoted to giving her readers fast-paced, high-stakes suspense with a sizzling love story sure to melt their hearts.   Lily’s Pad and the Intervenus Series: A Brand New Address and Betrayal at Crater’s Edge are sweet.  Deadly Alliance and her work-in-progress, Unholy Alliance, are contracted with Tirgearr Publishing and written for adults.

Kathleen used to write computer programs but now writes novels.   She grew up in Iowa where she caught lightning bugs, ran barefoot, and raced her sailboat on Lake Okoboji.  Now she wears flip-flops and sails with her husband, Gerry, on Newport Harbor but wishes there were lightning bugs in California.

Kathleen exists happily with her witty CPA husband, Gerry, in their 70’s poolside retreat in Southern California where she adores time spent with visiting grandchildren, dogs, one bunny, and noisy neighbors.  While proud of their five children who’ve flown the coop, she appreciates the luxury of time to write.  If you’d enjoy news,  sign up for Kathleen’s newsletter at http://www.kathleenrowland.com/

Connect with her online:

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/786656.Kathleen_Rowland
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Kathleen-Rowland/e/B007RYMF7S/
Twitter: @rowlandkathleen
Blogs: https://kathleenrowland.wordpress.com/
http://www.kathleenrowland.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kathleen.rowland.50