As promised, here's the list of what I'd like to accomplish--writing wise--in the 2011.
2011 Writing Goals
* Proofread and submit novel, Cassidy’s War
* List at least 6 or 7 ideas for short stories for True Romance and True Confession magazines
* Write and submit stories
* Finish first draft of time travel novella
* Revise, edit, polish and submit
* Outline series of science fiction romance novellas based on novel I put aside
* Plot out first novella
* Write first draft for first novella
I accomplished all of my writing goals for last year, except one and that's because I took a wrong turn with a new story I wrote over the summer. My goal for this year is to convert that story into a series of novellas.
What goals do you have for the new year, writing or otherwise? I'd love to hear them.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Finally in the home stretch
After putting aside my sci-fi romance the end of the summer, I've been revising, editing and this week completed proofing the entire file of my post Civil War romance, Cassidy's War.
Today I plan to print out the file, then put it aside for an entire week. Then I'll proofread the printed copy to try to catch any typos or mistakes I missed on the Word file.
After that, it goes back to my editor. I hope when I hear back on it, I'll be able to announce a new book contract.
My next post will be my list of writing goals for the new year.
Today I plan to print out the file, then put it aside for an entire week. Then I'll proofread the printed copy to try to catch any typos or mistakes I missed on the Word file.
After that, it goes back to my editor. I hope when I hear back on it, I'll be able to announce a new book contract.
My next post will be my list of writing goals for the new year.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Winner of my excerpt contest
The winner of my excerpt contest is Vonnie Davis! I'll be sending Vonnie a $25.00 gift certificate to The Wild Rose Press.
Send your email address to susanmacatee@aol.com so I can send your prize.
Congratulations and happy reading!
Send your email address to susanmacatee@aol.com so I can send your prize.
Congratulations and happy reading!
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Merry Christmas!!
Wishing everyone who celebrates a happy, holy and peaceful Christmas! And to everyone else, happy holidays!!Hope every one of your wishes comes true!
Stop back tomorrow for the winner of my excerpt contest.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Two excerpts for the price of one and final day of contest
Since this is the last day of my contest, I thought I'd post my last two excerpts together. The first is from Sweet Redemption, my stand-alone vampire novella, available as an e-book.
The second from my Civil War Christmas novella, part of the An American Rose Christmas anthology. Hope you enjoy both.
Excerpt from Sweet Redemption:
She eyed him coldly. "Sir, I'm not in the habit of taking prisoners."
"Sorry, ma'am." He inspected himself under the blanket. Both his greatcoat and military coat had been removed as well as his belt and revolver. "My things--"
"Are hidden, Captain. It wouldn't be wise to have them on your person if Confederate troops are hereabout."
"I agree with your reasoning, ma'am, but where are they?"
"In a safe place."
He struggled to sit, but his muscles protested, and he slumped back to the floor.
"Easy, Captain. You're very pale. Have you been ill?"
"No, I..." He recalled Arnwolf and the barn. Had that really happened, or had it just been a dream?
"Now you're awake, I'll heat up some broth. You look like you could use some."
"Thank you, ma'am."
She hesitated, a blush coloring her ivory skin. "When I took off your coat, I noticed two raised bumps on your neck. I thought they might be bites."
He fingered the bumps. So, it hadn't been a dream.
"A wild dog attacked me. Out in the woods."
"A wild dog?" She shuddered. "I didn't know there were any around here."
"It's the truth, ma'am." Even as he said it, he cringed inwardly at his lie.
Her gaze narrowed as she studied him. "But when I took off your coat, I didn't see any blood."
No blood? Come to think of it, he hadn't noticed any when he woke in the barn. "I'm not real sure how that happened, ma'am."
She rose, studied him once more, then left the room.
He lay back, reflecting on what had happened. If the man, Reverend Arnwolf was a minister, he must be a fallen one. Like me.
Was that why the creature had come to drag him to his doom? Was God angry that Jon had left the priesthood? This couldn't be a coincidence. Hopefully, the man was gone, and he'd never come across him again. But he couldn't get those glowing red eyes out of his mind.
Satan himself couldn't have frightened him more. He fingered the crucifix.
For more info and to read review, visit my vampire romance page http://susanmacatee.com/myvampireromances.html
To purchase Sweet Redemption http://thewildrosepress.com/sweet-redemption-p-3750.html?zenid=efc2f41ac353b198c6926be0514ff6ab
Sara closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Doc Ellison's kiss had scattered her senses. For months she'd dreamed of being in his arms. As he reached for the buttons on her shirt, her breath caught. His hands on her body thrilled her. She'd never felt like this before.
After loosening the buttons, he opened the shirt and gazed at her bosom.
She studied him, wondering what he was thinking. Did he like what he saw?
He dropped his hands and half-turned away.
"Please," she gasped. "Don't stop."
Turning back, his gaze roved over her. She tried to read his expression. Was that desire she saw, or disgust?
"We should be going now," he said. His gaze dropped to the hay strewn ground.
"No!" Boldly she reached out and fingered the buttons of his coat. He didn't move as she slowly undid them and parted the material. Her fingers tingled as they brushed over his shirt, feeling hardened muscle beneath.
His breath hitched, but he gently pushed her away. "Miss Brewster, we mustn't..."
"Doc!" A shout from outside, startled her. She jerked away from the doctor and scanned the barn opening. "Yes," Ellison called. He eyed her. "You'd best go."
She nodded, hurriedly fastening her buttons. One of the other stewards approached. His dark eyes slid from her to the doctor. "They don't need me in the hospital tent, and told me to come on over and give you a hand."
Ellison glanced at Sara. "We're about finished here. I was on my way back."
"All right, Doc," the soldier said. "I'll head back with you."
She swallowed, not sure she could find her voice. "Ah... I'm off duty, so I reckon I'll head back to my tent."
Ellison reached up and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I'll see you tomorrow."
She caught his gaze, trying to gauge his thoughts. Would he have allowed her to undress him if they hadn't been interrupted?
The Christmas Ball is part of the American historical Christmas anthology, An American Rose Christmas, available at The Wild Rose Press and discounted for the holidays http://www.thewildrosepress.com/an-american-rose-christmas-p-3807.html?zenid=fbfeb2eb47f18b45e780e54c46f21563
More excerpts and links to reviews are on my website: http://www.susanmacatee.com/
And be sure to check out my post on the Christmas Tree in Victorian America over at Slip Into Something Victorian.
And check back here on the 26th to see who won the TWRP gift certificate.
And be sure to check out my post on the Christmas Tree in Victorian America over at Slip Into Something Victorian.
And check back here on the 26th to see who won the TWRP gift certificate.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Excerpt from novella, Angel of My Dreams
If you like paranormal mixed with the Civil War, here's another excerpt, this one from a novella titled Angel of My Dreams, part of the Civil War romance anthology, Northern Roses and Southern Belles, an EPIC award finalist.
Excerpt:
A hand rested on his shoulder. He opened his eyes, expecting to see Monica.
The dark-haired woman gazed down at him.
"Kyle,” she said. "I've been so worried."
He lifted his head and looked around. He wasn't in his bedroom, but in a large canvas tent.
"Where am I?"
"Shh." She placed a finger on his lips. The scent of lavender invaded his senses.
He frowned when he realized he was lying on a cot wearing his reenactor clothing. Had he dreamed he'd come home?
"The doctor says you'll be fine. He dug out the bullet and stitched up your leg."
"My leg?" Kyle reached down. His pant’s leg had been cut apart at the seam. Heavy bandages wrapped around his thigh.
"This doesn't make any sense. I twisted my ankle. It's fine now."
She took his hand and stroked his forehead. Her touch sent warmth and desire through his body.
"I have to know..." He swallowed. "...your name."
She smiled. "You haven't forgotten me already?"
"I...you never told me."
"Of course I did."
She leaned away.
He held tightly to her hand, fearing she'd leave again.
"Don't go." Her hand dissolved. He couldn't hold her.
He woke in a sweat. The alarm blared. Six-thirty. He had to get ready for school.
As he hurriedly washed up and dressed, he tried to recall the dream about the woman from the reenactment, but only fleeting images remained.
As he waited for his coffee to brew, he racked his brain trying to remember, but it was gone. And so was she.
Northern Roses and Southern Belles available at The Wild Rose Press http://thewildrosepress.com/northern-roses-and-southern-belles-p-3578.html
Excerpt:The dark-haired woman gazed down at him.
"Kyle,” she said. "I've been so worried."
He lifted his head and looked around. He wasn't in his bedroom, but in a large canvas tent.
"Where am I?"
"Shh." She placed a finger on his lips. The scent of lavender invaded his senses.
He frowned when he realized he was lying on a cot wearing his reenactor clothing. Had he dreamed he'd come home?
"The doctor says you'll be fine. He dug out the bullet and stitched up your leg."
"My leg?" Kyle reached down. His pant’s leg had been cut apart at the seam. Heavy bandages wrapped around his thigh.
"This doesn't make any sense. I twisted my ankle. It's fine now."
She took his hand and stroked his forehead. Her touch sent warmth and desire through his body.
"I have to know..." He swallowed. "...your name."
She smiled. "You haven't forgotten me already?"
"I...you never told me."
"Of course I did."
She leaned away.
He held tightly to her hand, fearing she'd leave again.
"Don't go." Her hand dissolved. He couldn't hold her.
He woke in a sweat. The alarm blared. Six-thirty. He had to get ready for school.
As he hurriedly washed up and dressed, he tried to recall the dream about the woman from the reenactment, but only fleeting images remained.
As he waited for his coffee to brew, he racked his brain trying to remember, but it was gone. And so was she.
Northern Roses and Southern Belles available at The Wild Rose Press http://thewildrosepress.com/northern-roses-and-southern-belles-p-3578.html
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Excerpt from Confederate Rose
This latest battle had taken a toll on him. He felt drained and needed to recoup and get some rest. Leaning back against a rock, he looked at the stars dotting the blackness. Moonlight brightened the landscape, producing an eerie glow.
Katie by his side in battle was also a new experience. Although he knew she was an experienced soldier and could hold her own, an overwhelming urge rose to protect her. A woman should be home tending to the hearth, waiting for her man to return from battle.
His thoughts drifted to Annabelle. Was she back in Richmond waiting for word of her new fiancé? Their brief encounter assured him he no longer had feelings for her, but he worried that she'd revealed his identity to her husband-to-be. Since the captain hadn’t confronted him, though, he doubted she had.
Smoke from the fire drifted to him, stinging his eyes. He wiped his sleeve across his face. When he opened them, a soldier approached. He focused his vision and realized Katie strode toward him. She'd acquired a new slouch hat from her brother-in-law. The large, black hat concealed her red curls.
When she settled down cross-legged beside him, her mood seemed pensive. She watched him a moment before speaking.
"I found something that belongs to you."
His mouth went dry. Something was wrong. "What have you got?"
"I'm hating to have to say it, since I'd accused you of being a thief, but I stole something from you." She looked away.
"What could you...?" He racked his mind trying to figure out what she could have taken.
"I went through yer pack."
"In Patrick's tent?"
"No, weeks ago back at the cabin. I went through it to try to learn more about you when you were in the stable. I found a letter and took it but didn't have time to read it until now."
Alex swallowed.
"It was a Federal dispatch. Yer a Yankee."
His chest tightened. No wonder he'd been unable to find the dispatch. She'd had it all along. "What do you intend to do?" He hoped she wouldn't discover his real motive. He could never harm her.
"You lied to me the whole time," she said, disbelief marring her delicate features.
He exhaled the breath he'd held. "I had no choice."
"If I'd known you to be a Yankee, I'd have shot you the first chance I got." Her eyes glittered in the light of the fire. "You touched me...pretended to care fer me. And all the while, you lied to me."
The raw hurt on her face broke his heart. He'd deceived her. He couldn't deny it. "What do you intend to do?" he asked again.
She shook her head slowly. "I'm sorry, Alex, but 'tis me duty to turn you in."
Confederate Rose available at The Wild Rose Press http://thewildrosepress.com/confederate-rose-p-3672.html?zenid=c2780c782c9e4f03b6975f07778c04
1st place historical category of First Coast Romance Writers 2010 Beacon Contest
for Published Authors!
2nd place historical category of 2010 New England Reader's Choice Bean Pot Award!
Read opening chapters and get links to reviews at my website www.susanmacatee.com
Katie by his side in battle was also a new experience. Although he knew she was an experienced soldier and could hold her own, an overwhelming urge rose to protect her. A woman should be home tending to the hearth, waiting for her man to return from battle.His thoughts drifted to Annabelle. Was she back in Richmond waiting for word of her new fiancé? Their brief encounter assured him he no longer had feelings for her, but he worried that she'd revealed his identity to her husband-to-be. Since the captain hadn’t confronted him, though, he doubted she had.
Smoke from the fire drifted to him, stinging his eyes. He wiped his sleeve across his face. When he opened them, a soldier approached. He focused his vision and realized Katie strode toward him. She'd acquired a new slouch hat from her brother-in-law. The large, black hat concealed her red curls.
When she settled down cross-legged beside him, her mood seemed pensive. She watched him a moment before speaking.
"I found something that belongs to you."
His mouth went dry. Something was wrong. "What have you got?"
"I'm hating to have to say it, since I'd accused you of being a thief, but I stole something from you." She looked away.
"What could you...?" He racked his mind trying to figure out what she could have taken.
"I went through yer pack."
"In Patrick's tent?"
"No, weeks ago back at the cabin. I went through it to try to learn more about you when you were in the stable. I found a letter and took it but didn't have time to read it until now."
Alex swallowed.
"It was a Federal dispatch. Yer a Yankee."
His chest tightened. No wonder he'd been unable to find the dispatch. She'd had it all along. "What do you intend to do?" He hoped she wouldn't discover his real motive. He could never harm her.
"You lied to me the whole time," she said, disbelief marring her delicate features.
He exhaled the breath he'd held. "I had no choice."
"If I'd known you to be a Yankee, I'd have shot you the first chance I got." Her eyes glittered in the light of the fire. "You touched me...pretended to care fer me. And all the while, you lied to me."
The raw hurt on her face broke his heart. He'd deceived her. He couldn't deny it. "What do you intend to do?" he asked again.
She shook her head slowly. "I'm sorry, Alex, but 'tis me duty to turn you in."
Confederate Rose available at The Wild Rose Press http://thewildrosepress.com/confederate-rose-p-3672.html?zenid=c2780c782c9e4f03b6975f07778c04
1st place historical category of First Coast Romance Writers 2010 Beacon Contest
for Published Authors!
2nd place historical category of 2010 New England Reader's Choice Bean Pot Award!
Read opening chapters and get links to reviews at my website www.susanmacatee.com
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Excerpt from Erin's Rebel
I'm dedicating the remainder of this week to excerpts from all my current releases, starting with my Civil War time travel romance, Erin's Rebel. The excerpts will run from today to Friday, December 24th. Anyone who enters a comment on all four posts will be entered in a contest to win a $25.00 TWRP gift certificate. Winner, if any, will be announced December 26th.
Erin's Rebel
On a warm, sunny day in mid-June, she stood in a small, church cemetery in a rural area outside Mason, Virginia. Vivid dreams of a handsome, Civil War soldier had sent her here, but they had also driven a wedge between her fiancé, Rick Meyers, and her. To solve this mystery, she'd called off her wedding two and a half months before. And now today, she hoped what she learned in this graveyard would put a halt to her nightly visions.
Erin kneeled beside the weathered granite headstone of the Confederate captain and traced her finger over the inscription. William James Montgomery; Born September 20, 1833; Died November 23, 1864. Despite the warmth of the day, she shivered, recalling the dark-eyed man and her intense, sometimes sensual dreams. After taking a deep breath, she rose, brushed off her jeans, and snapped a few photos.
"Here's his wife." The caretaker, who'd introduced himself as John, tipped the bill of his black Orioles cap toward the stone beside Montgomery's.
Erin glanced at it. Anne Eugenia Montgomery: Born October 3, 1833; Died September 15, 1861.
"She was so young," she said.
The caretaker lifted his cap and ran a liver-spotted hand through his thinning, gray hair. Replacing the hat, he turned to indicate the old, stone-walled church. "The records show she died shortly after William enlisted in the Confederate Army."
Erin nodded. Her grandmother had told her some of this story. The couple had a daughter, Amanda, and a stillborn son. They were also buried here, along with Amanda's husband and their children.
She fingered the engraved silver frame of the brooch pinned to the lapel of her beige, cotton blazer. As she glanced at the clear summer sky, a light breeze ruffled her cropped hair. Sparrows, perched in the oaks overlooking the plots, twittered. Such a beautiful day to recall such sadness.
"My grandmother told me her great-aunt Erin O'Connell knew William Montgomery. She met him during the war. This brooch was given to her by the captain." She clasped the oval frame, surrounding tightly woven chocolate-brown hair. "It's supposed to be a lock of his hair."
"Well, I'll be." John admired the pin. "Where's this great-aunt buried?"
"In Pennsylvania in a small town named Candor. It's just north of Gettysburg. My grandmother lived there, but she died last week." Her voice broke as she recalled the dear lady.
"Sorry to hear that."
She cleared her throat. "That's why I've come here. It was one of her last requests that I find this man's grave. In addition to the brooch, she had an old Bible and photos of both her great-aunt and William Montgomery." She lifted the photos she carried with her.
"My God! She looks just like you."
Erin smiled. "There are a few minor differences." In fact, she'd found the family resemblance unnerving, especially since Captain Montgomery resembled the soldier in her dreams. "Grandma also told me Erin O'Connell had been a Federal spy."
John arched his brows and let out an appreciative whistle. "What a great story! Researching the past is fascinating. You say you're from Philadelphia?"
"Yeah. I'm a reporter for the Philadelphia Inquirer."
"Well, then, feel free to go through all the records we have." He gestured at the church. "It should be all in a day's work for you."
****
On her return visit to Pennsylvania later that night, Erin couldn't shake the eerie feeling she'd experienced after going through the ledger. The facts she'd uncovered only added to her sense of unease. As her dreams combined with the historic facts, a feeling of insanity invaded her mind.
On her drive south, the winding two-lane highway through north-western Virginia had been so open and scenic in daylight. Now in the darkness, the heavily forested road and lack of traffic caused chills to slitherthrough her as she mulled over her discoveries. She should have left earlier but had found it difficult to pull herself away. Erin had discovered the man for whom she'd been searching. But would finding his grave finally end the dreams, or would this just make things a helluva lot worse?
The moist scent of impending rain sifted though the window she'd left cracked open. Hopefully, any shower would be light. She didn't look forward to a long drive in heavy rain, especially on an unfamiliar road. After two, quick flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder, the first drops of rain hit the windshield. A deluge followed, forcing her to flick the wipers on high.
A sudden vibration shocked already frayed nerves. Where did that come from? Her cell phone was in her purse on the adjoining seat, so it hadn't come from that. The hair brooch on her lapel? When she fingered it, a sharp pulsation shot up her arm.
"What the hell?" She jerked her hand.
Despite the strange sensation, Erin remained focused on the road. Nothing ahead or behind her but forest. Dark, creepy forest encased in sheets of rain. Unable to see, she considered pulling over but wasn't sure she wanted to stop there.
As the vibration increased, she almost skidded off the blacktop. She grasped at the clasp, trying to yank the pin off her jacket.
Headlights glared in the distance and grew brighter. She had to concentrate on regaining control of the car. Tires squealed as a truck slid into her path on a rain-slicked curve.
"Oh, shit!" Heart pounding, she jerked the steering wheel to avoid a collision. She hydroplaned off the highway and swerved onto the shoulder - too late to see the tree dead in front of her.
Impact rolled as a film in slow motion. The sound of crunching metal, smell of rubber and gasoline, and a jolt through her system were the last things she remembered.
Chapter Two
Confederate Camp in Northern Virginia
June 18, 1863
A scream pierced the air. Men's shouts woke Will Montgomery from a deep slumber and dreams of his home and Anne.
What in damnation? Black coated the interior of his tent, making it impossible to see. What time was it anyway? Snatching up his trousers, he yanked them on over his underdrawers.
Emerging from the tent, he struggled to see in the ink-black darkness. No moonlight shone, and only a few, lone stars flickered through the dense clouds. The shuffling of heavy boots and the sound of men's angry voices drew his attention a few yards past the laundress' tent.
Had it been Mrs. O'Connell? A lantern glowed near her tent. Upon investigation, he found two men standing over what appeared to be a woman lying in a heap of calico skirts and petticoats. One of the men held a mare by the reins; the other hefted a lantern.
"What happened?" Will said.
"The lady fell from the horse, sir," the private holding the animal answered.
Kneeling at the woman's side, he tilted her face toward his. He motioned to the other soldier. "Bring the lantern closer."
Mrs. O'Connell, a young widow serving as one of the camp's new laundresses, lay limp and still. What the hell had the laundress been doing on a horse in the dead of night? He gazed at her placid face. Long, red-gold lashes brushed against her rounded cheekbones, ghostly pale in the candlelight. Blood oozed from one delicate nostril. Her bosom rose and fell gently, drawing his gaze to the swell of her breasts.
The first day the Irish woman had arrived in camp, feelings stirred in him he'd thought died with Anne. After his wife's death, he'd vowed not to give his heart to anotherwoman. Losing her had torn out his soul.
"What happened?" Will addressed the thin private with the lantern.
The soldier glanced at his companion and shrugged. "We think the horse reared up, sir. Then we heard her scream and came a-runnin' just in time to see her hit the ground."
Will nodded. Could be she'd imbibed a bit too much tonight. He'd heard the new laundress kept a bottle of whiskey in her tent, but so far, he hadn't witnessed any improprieties.
He studied the motionless figure. Doc Matthews could determine the extent of her injuries. As he lifted her, he smelled no hint of alcohol, but a feminine scent overwhelmed him. Soap and something sweet he couldn't identify.
He hadn't held a woman for two years. The softness of her curves increased the yearning he'd been denying. Leaving the other man to tend to the horse, he carried her across the camp to Doc.
****
Erin groaned. Her head and neck hurt like hell, and so did her nose. In fact, everything hurt. What had happened? She reached to the back of her head, where her fingers closed around a damp cloth. When she opened her eyes, a sharp pain knifed through her skull.
Focusing her thoughts, she recalled flashes of a dark, rainy highway. A truck hurtling toward her. The tree.
She turned her head and squinted into the yellow-white glow of a lantern. She wasn't in her car but lying flat on her back.
Someone moved beside her. A man with a heavy drawl spoke. "Are you all right, ma'am? Can you speak?"
She stared at him. Was she in a hospital? No. The gangly, sandy-haired man with the handlebar mustache wasn't wearing scrubs. He appeared to be in his early thirties and was dressed in an oversized, striped blue and white shirt draped over tan wool pants with a set of suspenders dangling to his knees. This sure wasn't an emergency room.
"Where am I?" she croaked. "What happened?" Blinding pain shot through her skull, again.
"You were thrown from a horse. Do you remember?"
"Horse?" She shook her head, then the sharp pain stopped her. "Ow, everything hurts."
The man pried the damp cloth from her hand and pressed it against the back of her head. "I don't feel any broken bones, but you've got a nice sized lump right here. I reckon you have a nasty headache. Just what were you doing on that mare this hour of night?"
"I wasn't on a horse," she said. "I've never been on a horse in my life. It was a car crash. I hit a tree when that truck slid in front of me."
"A bad fall like that could have affected your mind, Mrs. O'Connell." The man eyed her. "You're not making a lick of sense."
For more of chapter two, visit my website at http://www.susanmacatee.com/erinsrebel2.html
Finalist in the paranormal category of the Ancient City Romance Authors 2010 Reader's Choice Award!
Link for reviews: www.susanmacatee.com/Reviews.html
To purchase Erin's Rebel http://thewildrosepress.com/erins-rebel-p-3554.html
Erin's RebelChapter One
Erin Branigan had finally found the man of her dreams. Unfortunately, he'd died over one hundred and forty years ago.
On a warm, sunny day in mid-June, she stood in a small, church cemetery in a rural area outside Mason, Virginia. Vivid dreams of a handsome, Civil War soldier had sent her here, but they had also driven a wedge between her fiancé, Rick Meyers, and her. To solve this mystery, she'd called off her wedding two and a half months before. And now today, she hoped what she learned in this graveyard would put a halt to her nightly visions.
Erin kneeled beside the weathered granite headstone of the Confederate captain and traced her finger over the inscription. William James Montgomery; Born September 20, 1833; Died November 23, 1864. Despite the warmth of the day, she shivered, recalling the dark-eyed man and her intense, sometimes sensual dreams. After taking a deep breath, she rose, brushed off her jeans, and snapped a few photos.
"Here's his wife." The caretaker, who'd introduced himself as John, tipped the bill of his black Orioles cap toward the stone beside Montgomery's.
Erin glanced at it. Anne Eugenia Montgomery: Born October 3, 1833; Died September 15, 1861.
"She was so young," she said.
The caretaker lifted his cap and ran a liver-spotted hand through his thinning, gray hair. Replacing the hat, he turned to indicate the old, stone-walled church. "The records show she died shortly after William enlisted in the Confederate Army."
Erin nodded. Her grandmother had told her some of this story. The couple had a daughter, Amanda, and a stillborn son. They were also buried here, along with Amanda's husband and their children.
She fingered the engraved silver frame of the brooch pinned to the lapel of her beige, cotton blazer. As she glanced at the clear summer sky, a light breeze ruffled her cropped hair. Sparrows, perched in the oaks overlooking the plots, twittered. Such a beautiful day to recall such sadness.
"My grandmother told me her great-aunt Erin O'Connell knew William Montgomery. She met him during the war. This brooch was given to her by the captain." She clasped the oval frame, surrounding tightly woven chocolate-brown hair. "It's supposed to be a lock of his hair."
"Well, I'll be." John admired the pin. "Where's this great-aunt buried?"
"In Pennsylvania in a small town named Candor. It's just north of Gettysburg. My grandmother lived there, but she died last week." Her voice broke as she recalled the dear lady.
"Sorry to hear that."
She cleared her throat. "That's why I've come here. It was one of her last requests that I find this man's grave. In addition to the brooch, she had an old Bible and photos of both her great-aunt and William Montgomery." She lifted the photos she carried with her.
"My God! She looks just like you."
Erin smiled. "There are a few minor differences." In fact, she'd found the family resemblance unnerving, especially since Captain Montgomery resembled the soldier in her dreams. "Grandma also told me Erin O'Connell had been a Federal spy."
John arched his brows and let out an appreciative whistle. "What a great story! Researching the past is fascinating. You say you're from Philadelphia?"
"Yeah. I'm a reporter for the Philadelphia Inquirer."
"Well, then, feel free to go through all the records we have." He gestured at the church. "It should be all in a day's work for you."
****
On her return visit to Pennsylvania later that night, Erin couldn't shake the eerie feeling she'd experienced after going through the ledger. The facts she'd uncovered only added to her sense of unease. As her dreams combined with the historic facts, a feeling of insanity invaded her mind.
On her drive south, the winding two-lane highway through north-western Virginia had been so open and scenic in daylight. Now in the darkness, the heavily forested road and lack of traffic caused chills to slitherthrough her as she mulled over her discoveries. She should have left earlier but had found it difficult to pull herself away. Erin had discovered the man for whom she'd been searching. But would finding his grave finally end the dreams, or would this just make things a helluva lot worse?
The moist scent of impending rain sifted though the window she'd left cracked open. Hopefully, any shower would be light. She didn't look forward to a long drive in heavy rain, especially on an unfamiliar road. After two, quick flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder, the first drops of rain hit the windshield. A deluge followed, forcing her to flick the wipers on high.
A sudden vibration shocked already frayed nerves. Where did that come from? Her cell phone was in her purse on the adjoining seat, so it hadn't come from that. The hair brooch on her lapel? When she fingered it, a sharp pulsation shot up her arm.
"What the hell?" She jerked her hand.
Despite the strange sensation, Erin remained focused on the road. Nothing ahead or behind her but forest. Dark, creepy forest encased in sheets of rain. Unable to see, she considered pulling over but wasn't sure she wanted to stop there.
As the vibration increased, she almost skidded off the blacktop. She grasped at the clasp, trying to yank the pin off her jacket.
Headlights glared in the distance and grew brighter. She had to concentrate on regaining control of the car. Tires squealed as a truck slid into her path on a rain-slicked curve.
"Oh, shit!" Heart pounding, she jerked the steering wheel to avoid a collision. She hydroplaned off the highway and swerved onto the shoulder - too late to see the tree dead in front of her.
Impact rolled as a film in slow motion. The sound of crunching metal, smell of rubber and gasoline, and a jolt through her system were the last things she remembered.
Chapter Two
Confederate Camp in Northern Virginia
June 18, 1863
A scream pierced the air. Men's shouts woke Will Montgomery from a deep slumber and dreams of his home and Anne.
What in damnation? Black coated the interior of his tent, making it impossible to see. What time was it anyway? Snatching up his trousers, he yanked them on over his underdrawers.
Emerging from the tent, he struggled to see in the ink-black darkness. No moonlight shone, and only a few, lone stars flickered through the dense clouds. The shuffling of heavy boots and the sound of men's angry voices drew his attention a few yards past the laundress' tent.
Had it been Mrs. O'Connell? A lantern glowed near her tent. Upon investigation, he found two men standing over what appeared to be a woman lying in a heap of calico skirts and petticoats. One of the men held a mare by the reins; the other hefted a lantern.
"What happened?" Will said.
"The lady fell from the horse, sir," the private holding the animal answered.
Kneeling at the woman's side, he tilted her face toward his. He motioned to the other soldier. "Bring the lantern closer."
Mrs. O'Connell, a young widow serving as one of the camp's new laundresses, lay limp and still. What the hell had the laundress been doing on a horse in the dead of night? He gazed at her placid face. Long, red-gold lashes brushed against her rounded cheekbones, ghostly pale in the candlelight. Blood oozed from one delicate nostril. Her bosom rose and fell gently, drawing his gaze to the swell of her breasts.
The first day the Irish woman had arrived in camp, feelings stirred in him he'd thought died with Anne. After his wife's death, he'd vowed not to give his heart to anotherwoman. Losing her had torn out his soul.
"What happened?" Will addressed the thin private with the lantern.
The soldier glanced at his companion and shrugged. "We think the horse reared up, sir. Then we heard her scream and came a-runnin' just in time to see her hit the ground."
Will nodded. Could be she'd imbibed a bit too much tonight. He'd heard the new laundress kept a bottle of whiskey in her tent, but so far, he hadn't witnessed any improprieties.
He studied the motionless figure. Doc Matthews could determine the extent of her injuries. As he lifted her, he smelled no hint of alcohol, but a feminine scent overwhelmed him. Soap and something sweet he couldn't identify.
He hadn't held a woman for two years. The softness of her curves increased the yearning he'd been denying. Leaving the other man to tend to the horse, he carried her across the camp to Doc.
****
Erin groaned. Her head and neck hurt like hell, and so did her nose. In fact, everything hurt. What had happened? She reached to the back of her head, where her fingers closed around a damp cloth. When she opened her eyes, a sharp pain knifed through her skull.
Focusing her thoughts, she recalled flashes of a dark, rainy highway. A truck hurtling toward her. The tree.
She turned her head and squinted into the yellow-white glow of a lantern. She wasn't in her car but lying flat on her back.
Someone moved beside her. A man with a heavy drawl spoke. "Are you all right, ma'am? Can you speak?"
She stared at him. Was she in a hospital? No. The gangly, sandy-haired man with the handlebar mustache wasn't wearing scrubs. He appeared to be in his early thirties and was dressed in an oversized, striped blue and white shirt draped over tan wool pants with a set of suspenders dangling to his knees. This sure wasn't an emergency room.
"Where am I?" she croaked. "What happened?" Blinding pain shot through her skull, again.
"You were thrown from a horse. Do you remember?"
"Horse?" She shook her head, then the sharp pain stopped her. "Ow, everything hurts."
The man pried the damp cloth from her hand and pressed it against the back of her head. "I don't feel any broken bones, but you've got a nice sized lump right here. I reckon you have a nasty headache. Just what were you doing on that mare this hour of night?"
"I wasn't on a horse," she said. "I've never been on a horse in my life. It was a car crash. I hit a tree when that truck slid in front of me."
"A bad fall like that could have affected your mind, Mrs. O'Connell." The man eyed her. "You're not making a lick of sense."
For more of chapter two, visit my website at http://www.susanmacatee.com/erinsrebel2.html
Finalist in the paranormal category of the Ancient City Romance Authors 2010 Reader's Choice Award!
Link for reviews: www.susanmacatee.com/Reviews.html
To purchase Erin's Rebel http://thewildrosepress.com/erins-rebel-p-3554.html
Monday, December 20, 2010
Free Christmas Story
Christmas is fast approaching and I'd like to remind all my readers that my free Civil War Christmas story, A Kiss Under the Mistletoe, is still available at The Wild Rose Press.But will passion re-ignite when they share a final kiss under the mistletoe?
And the link: http://www.thewildrosepress.com/a-kiss-under-the-mistletoe-p-1091.html?zenid=a4412b677b2f490df7f1954b9ad2eb1f
If you haven't yet read this story, I hope you'll enjoy it.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Winner of box of SFR books!
I've chosen my winner over at SFR Brigade blog and it's Jennifer Mathis! I've already contacted her and am awaiting her reply and mailing address.
Thanks to all who left comments.
Thanks to all who left comments.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Book giveway!!
I'm posting at SFR Brigade blog today and I'm giving away a box of books, all science fiction romances. If you leave a comment there today, you'll be included in the random drawing for the books--14 in all.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Talking about how easy it was to change your name...
I'm over at Slip Into Something Victorian today continuing my posts on name changes during the 19th century. Clerical mistakes could make an entirely new person out of you.
Tuesday, December 07, 2010
A Pre-Christmas Treat
Since we're now past Thanksgiving, I thought I'd remind everyone about my novella, The Christmas Ball, from the American historical Christmas anthology, An American Rose Christmas.The anthology came out a year ago and The Wild Rose Press is offering an e-book copy for the price of $4.20. It's also available in print.
Excerpt from The Christmas Ball:
Sara closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Doc Ellison's kiss had scattered her senses. For months she'd dreamed of being in his arms. As he reached for the buttons on her shirt, her breath caught. His hands on her body thrilled her. She'd never felt like this before.
After loosening the buttons, he opened the shirt and gazed at her bosom.
She studied him, wondering what he was thinking. Did he like what he saw?
He dropped his hands and half-turned away.
"Please," she gasped. "Don't stop."
Turning back, his gaze roved over her. She tried to read his expression. Was that desire she saw, or disgust?
"We should be going now," he said. His gaze dropped to the hay strewn ground.
"No!" Boldly she reached out and fingered the buttons of his coat. He didn't move as she slowly undid them and parted the material. Her fingers tingled as they brushed over his shirt, feeling hardened muscle beneath.
His breath hitched, but he gently pushed her away. "Miss Brewster, we mustn't..."
"Doc!" A shout from outside, startled her. She jerked away from the doctor and scanned the barn opening.
"Yes," Ellison called. He eyed her. "You'd best go."
She nodded, hurriedly fastening her buttons. One of the other stewards approached. His dark eyes slid from her to the doctor. "They don't need me in the hospital tent, and told me to come on over and give you a hand."
Ellison glanced at Sara. "We're about finished here. I was on my way back."
"All right, Doc," the soldier said. "I'll head back with you."
She swallowed, not sure she could find her voice. "Ah... I'm off duty, so I reckon I’ll head back to my tent."
Ellison reached up and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I'll see you tomorrow."
She caught his gaze, trying to gauge his thoughts. Would he have allowed her to undress him if they hadn't been interrupted?
The Christmas Ball is part of the anthology An American Rose Christmas. For more information visit my website http://susanmacatee.com/americanrosechristmas.html
To purchase from The Wild Rose Press http://www.thewildrosepress.com/an-american-rose-christmas-p-3807.html
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