Midweek Tease: Hello Again Continued

MWTease15Good morning and welcome to this week’s Midweek Tease, the weekly log hop made possible by Angelica Dawson and a gifted group of writers, all will different styles and genres to entice and entertain you. This is an open blog hop, so, if you would like to be part of it, mention it in  your comments.

Today, I will introduce the third main character in Hello Again,  my paranormal, romance, suspense, based on a Native American myth. Shirley is a feisty old lady who sees far more than most of us can. Enjoy!

HelloAgain-ebook-smallBill stood in front of Shirley’s sod house, trying to talk some sense into the feisty old woman, wondering if perhaps her memory was failing. He was here because of her, dammit, and he needed her to remember that. The storm was getting closer by the minute.

“Listen to me, Shirley,” Bill said, hoping to convince her to put down the shotgun she kept poking in his face. “Emile said you asked for us. He sent me out here to talk to you about that biker gang. You aren’t in any trouble, I swear, but you can’t go around threatening an RCMP officer with a weapon like this.”

“The hell I can’t,” she said, with just enough bravado to make him agree with her. “But, I’m not threatening you, Sergeant.” Her voice was wheezy in the heavy, humid air, but she lowered her shotgun. “I welcome all my visitors this way. An old woman living alone can’t be too careful. Just because you’re driving a fancy police car,” she continued, emphasizing the po, “doesn’t mean you’re who you say you are. No need to talk to me as if my brain’s addled. Now that I’ve seen you, I know exactly why you’re here. Besides, this damn thing isn’t loaded. I emptied both barrels into the air to scare those thieving hoodlums away, but I can’t find the box of shells to reload it. I haven’t used the thing in years. Glad it worked and didn’t blow my fool head off, but those bikers took the bison calf and ripped up my garden something awful.”

Bill looked around the small farm. Shirley’s home, a modernized, one story, sod house, built using large, thick rectangles of prairie grass, covered with wheat-colored stucco for durability, blended seamlessly into the landscape. The tin roof was flat, and someone had painted the metal to prevent corrosion and eliminate glare. The front of the house boasted two windows set deeply into the thick walls. He’d seen a few of these soddies when he’d been stationed near Lloydminster. They were well-insulated and inexpensive, and from the wires running to it, he knew she had electricity. The small building, with the crescent moon cut into its door, on the far left near the back of the house, in front of what appeared to be a small hill, and the water pump on the other side of the house near the garden, suggested she didn’t have running water. The only other building, a ramshackle barn that had seen better days, looked ready to fall in on itself. A large rain barrel on the right side of the house near the garden would collect water from the roof and was most likely used to irrigate the plants, but the garden itself was in bad shape.

The remaining stalks of corn were broken, the squash plants trampled. Green tomatoes mixed with ripening ones on the ground and half the root vegetables had been torn out. This food had probably been intended to supplement her winter diet, and now, most of it was ruined.

Anger burned in his stomach. This place was isolated. Where were the members of her family? Shirley Smoke had been an elder’s wife, was considered a medicine woman, so why wasn’t she being treated with more respect? It was dangerous for her to be alone out here, even if there weren’t any biker gangs terrorizing the area.

Tamping down his ire, he smiled. “You could’ve been seriously hurt,” he continued. Unloaded or not, he still didn’t like having a weapon pointed in his face.

“I was protecting my land and my property,” she said grudgingly. “That bison calf was a symbol of my people and our heritage. Allowed to mature, he’d have sired more of his kind, but to them he was nothing but meat on a spit. I hope they choked on him. Those vegetables were supposed to feed me through the winter. Now what am I going to do?”

“I know you get money from Aboriginal Affairs, Shirley, so don’t play that card with me…”

“There isn’t much left from that check after I pay my bills each month,” she grumbled. “Utilities cost the earth, and with the price of food, there isn’t enough for extras. My widow’s pension barely covers the wages I give the men who harvest my fields for me.”

“What about your children and grandchildren? Can’t they help out?”

“Our daughter, Winona, disappeared thirty five years ago. We had a fight … I thought she’d come back—call at least—but after she left, we never heard from her again.”

Bill swallowed awkwardly. Winona Smoke, Shirley’s runaway daughter, could’ve been his mother. No one knew who’d left the hours-old infant in a basket, wrapped in a woven blanket proclaiming his native ancestry, on the floor of the ER at the Calgary General Hospital, but his hair color and eye color along with his skin tone told its own story. There were few red-haired, green-eyed First Nation people, and despite the blanket, woven in a traditional Sioux design and several years old, none of the local tribes had claimed the child, so he was without status. You needed to know the lineage to claim the title First Nations, and he didn’t. The odds were his mother had been one of the many homeless people who’d found herself in dire straits and had decided giving him away would guarantee him a better life. He didn’t blame her, not really. Sometimes life gave you lemons, and you couldn’t even make lemonade out of them.

He’d been raised as a crown ward, given his name by the doctor who’d found him, and placed in a foster home, but never adopted. He’d stayed with them until he’d aged out of the system. Now, they were both gone, and he was as alone as he’d been as an unwanted infant, as alone as Shirley was. He’d talk to Emile. Surely the council could do something for her, something that would keep her pride intact.

“You should’ve called 9 1 1 and someone would’ve come out here right away,” he said, forcing the uncomfortable thoughts out of his mind and getting back to the topic at hand. “Cattle rustling is a crime as is the destruction of property. We’d have arrested them on the spot.”

Fat raindrops fell on his cap. He’d been so involved with Shirley that he’d forgotten the storm. The heavy, black clouds were almost upon them.

“No time to talk about what I should’ve done now,” she said. “We’ll be safe in the house.”

Lightening split the sky, and Bill followed her inside.

Hello Again, and many of my other books are available to read for free through the Kindle Unlimited Program.

Now, please take a moment to check out the rest of this week’s teasers.

#MidWeekTease September 19, 2018


Tuesday Tales: From the Word MAD

New TT imageWelcome to this week’s Tuesday tales, the blog where select authors post scenes from their current works in progress for you to enjoy. This week’s word is MAD. Lots of room to work with that one. I’m continuing with The Price of Courage, book two of my Canadiana series.

Last week, Lucien was about to open the door to the storm cellar. Here’s what he found.  Enjoy!

Makeshift torch in hand, Lucien grabbed the metal ring and pulled the door open.

He glimpsed into the darkness and gasped as he made out three shapes huddled under a blanket.

“Have mercy, please. They’re only children,” a woman said in a language he recognized as a mix of Mi’kmaq and French.

“No one will hurt you,” he answered in the same patois. “We’re here to help. Yves,” he turned to the man behind him. “Bring in some wood and start a fire in the hearth.”

Yves nodded to Okwaho, and the men went outside, returning seconds later with kindling and logs. Using flint and tinder from his pack, within minutes, the man had a blaze going and the room grew warmer.

“It’s all right,” Lucien said. “You can come up now. You’re safe.”

When a child was hoisted up high enough that he could reach him, he did so and placed the shivering toddler on the bench near the fire. A second child made her debut, trembling as hard as her brother was. Both were in their nightclothes, their tiny feet in woolen socks.

A man had to be mad to treat children like this.

Fighting his fury at such an atrocity, Lucien removed his coat, bundled the shivering children in it, and left them on the bench where the fire would soon warm them.

He returned to the hole. “Madame, it’s your turn.”

Hélas, I can’t come up the ladder on my own. I hurt my ankle when they threw me down here,” she answered.

“Move out of the way. I’ll jump down and get you. Okwaho, come and help me,” he said, before dropping into the root cellar.

Like the pantry, the place had been looted, crocks of preserves smashed and trampled into the ground. Traces of tiny finger marks bore evidence that the children had scooped up some of the precious jam along with the dirt under it. His stomach roiled and he fisted his hands at his side.

Slowly, a figure emerged from the darkness. The woman’s eye was blackened and her lip split. She held a quilt around her, but he could see the scratches on her neck and the edges of her torn blouse. She limped, favoring her left leg. One hand cradled her distended abdomen. Horrified, Lucien approached her. What kind of monsters could do something like this?

Don’t forget to check out all the other posts on  Tuesday Tales

Midweek Tease: More from Hello Again

MWTease15Good morning and welcome to this week’s Midweek Tease. After a trio of cold days to remind us of what’s ahead, the heat and humidity are back for a few days–summer’s swan song. Thanks to Angelica Dawson who makes this weekly hop possible.

This morning, by request, I’m posting from Hello Again, my paranormal, romance, suspense, based on a Native American myth. Enjoy.

“Sergeant Murdock,” Emile said. “Superintendent Anderson called and said you were coming. Nice to see you again.” He held out his hand. “Hot enough for you?”

Bill chuckled. “Definitely, but I’ll take it over a miserable freezing January any time. You’re looking well, old friend. I heard you had a little trouble last winter.”

HelloAgain-ebookHe shrugged. “The body wears out before the mind. The doctors in Regina fixed me up and put three stents in my heart, but this old man gets tired, especially in this heat.”

“I’d have thought you’d retire from the council and spend your days fishing with your grandsons.”

“I do that, too,” he said and chuckled, “but today, even the poor fish are having a hard time keeping cool. Besides, Sandra tells me we’re in for a very bad storm, but we’ll be safe here. My wife is right far more often than the weather forecaster in Regina.”

“Well, if that’s true, I’d better get your statement and get the hell back to the city.”

Severe weather like that could wreak havoc, and it was always all men on deck when that happened.

Glancing over at the flower beds in front of the building, their various native plants—including Saskatoon lily—all in bloom, Bill smiled.

“I see your granddaughter’s green thumb at work here.”

“The land speaks to Laurie as it did to my ancestors.” Emile raised his hand and pushed his headdress off his forehead. He motioned to the other men standing around.

Bill didn’t miss their barely suppressed anger, nor the fact that they stared daggers at him.

“You know my fellow chiefs?” Emile asked.

“I do, but something tells me they aren’t happy with me.”

Emile chuckled. “They aren’t happy with me, either. I’ve been an obstinate old man all morning. I’m the one who insists this matter must be handled by the RCMP. Others feel we should take care of it ourselves.”

“Murdock,” Lavallee spoke loudly, his voice filled with anger and frustration. “If you can’t stop those damn bikers, we will, and they’ll face Nakoda justice regardless of their skin color. We won’t let them terrorize our women, hook our children on drugs, or scare off our herds. Those men are evil. Mark my words, people will die.”

The other chiefs nodded their agreement, but didn’t say anything.

“I hear you,” Bill answered, knowing it wouldn’t take much to set off the powder keg caused by the heat and the exasperation Lavallee and the others felt. Hell, he felt it, too. When the biker gangs moved in, they inevitably brought drugs and violence with them. His hand instinctively moved to his chest, and he forced it down before anyone noticed. He’d had one close call with those sons of bitches. He wasn’t looking forward to another.

Want to read more? Hello Again is available on any Amazon site and is free to read with KU! https://www.amazon.com/Hello-Again-Susanne-Matthews-ebook/dp/B01FGN88I6

Don’t miss the rest of this week’s teasers:


Tuesday Tales: From the Word BRIDGE

New TT imageWelcome to this week’s edition of Tuesday tales, the blog where books are born. Each week a select group of authors share their work in progress with you, by providing a scene inspired by a word or picture prompt. This week’s word is BRIDGE. I used a variation of it. Be nice! I’m continuing with my historical romance, The Price of Courage, Book 2 of the Canadiana Series.


As soon as the others joined him, they approached the house, quickly bridging the gap between it and them. Could animals have found their way inside? Lucien had seen it happen before, and a man would have to be a fool to ignore such danger. Abandoned houses and sheds made excellent substitutes for caves.

Mon Dieu, Seigneur,” he cried, jumping back as if he’d been stung. On the porch, hidden by the woodpile and snow, lay the frozen body of a young man, his throat slit ear to ear, almost decapitating him. It couldn’t have happened too long ago; otherwise the wolves would’ve been here.

“What is it?” Yves asked, musket drawn, rushing to his side and peeking around his shoulders. “Sacrament, maudite merde,” he began a string of French curses that would earn him a full year in purgatory. “Les bâtards. They did this. You know it and so do I.”

Before Lucien could answer, Okwaho raised his palm to silence them.

“Listen,” he whispered.

A low, muffled keening, came from inside the house.

Lucien raised his finger to his lips and stepped through the doorway. Yves followed closely as did Okwaho. It was almost as cold inside the house as it had been outside. Lucien swallowed. The place had been ransacked, the furniture, meager as it was, tossed around. The cupboards were emptied, the few wooden trenchers and cups tossed onto the floor next to the kettle and overturned pots. From what Lucien could see, not so much as a sack of dry beans remained in what must’ve been a large family home. So where were the rest of the occupants?

Another whimper, louder this time, similar to a pup’s cry. Slowly, he moved toward it, looking into the corners for its origin. The third time he heard it, he realized it was coming from under the overturned table. With Yves’s help, he righted the heavy object and moved it away, expecting to see a body, but instead, he saw a rag rug covering what must be the door to the root cellar. Horror filled him. Someone had tossed a helpless animal into the darkness and left it to die.

“Find me a light,” he said, his teeth gritted in fury.

Yves opened his pack and removed his flint, lighting a piece of wood from what must’ve once been a chair.

That’s it.   What do you think the men will find in the root cellar?

Don’t forget to check out all the other posts on  Tuesday Tales

Falling Leaves Giveaway!

Accent on Romance - September Giveaway Graphic

Days are slowly getting shorter and cooler. It’s time to relax  and enjoy your quiet evenings. Why not take the time to find some new books and authors for those long nights in the not too distant future?
Accent on Romance has just the thing! Welcome to Day 1 of the Falling Leaves Giveaway, sponsored by eBookbetty! This is your chance to pick up some great books for 99 cents or less and possibly win one of three fantastic prize in the process. Check it all out here for your chance to win! https://www.greatbooksgreatdeals.com/accentonromance.html
Have a look at these great deals:
Mystery, Paranormal, Romance from Carmen De Sousa

Homicide detectives Gino Canale and Mark Waters don’t believe in ghosts. Not yet anyway.

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New Release from Jaymin Eve


House of Royale

Secret Keepers: Book Four

By: Jaymin Eve

Release Date: September 9th, 2018

Genre: Upper Young Adult Urban Fantasy


Back Cover Copy

HOR CoverAvalon has always felt different and alone. The ocean, along with the friends she’s made under the water, is the only constant in her life. She comforts herself with the notion that alone is at least safe. There’s no one to hide her extraordinary abilities from, to hide her dreams of living beneath the crashing waves forever.

Then Xander comes for her, reluctantly, judging by his snarly attitude. But, attitude aside, he draws her into a fantasy world, one filled with family and friendship and … the home she’s always craved.

He gives her the smallest glimpse of perfection, only to then inform her that it’s not a world she can have. Political issues in Royale will make her time there temporary.

Her time in Royale and with Xander.

She will stay until the very end, though. If there’s one thing that she’s determined to prevent, it’s Laous getting his hands on the starslight stone. A stone which is keeping two worlds alive and functioning.

A happily ever after might not be in the cards for her, but she’s determined to make it happen for her friends.

Even if it’s the last thing she does.

Don’t miss the stunning conclusion to the Secret Keepers series.
Royale Teaser

Buy Link:

Available exclusively on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited
Download your copy at http://smarturl.it/HouseOfRoyale

Or the complete series at http://smarturl.it/SecretKeepers


Author Bio:

Jaymin Eve is the USA Today Bestselling author of paranormal romance, urban fantasy, and sci-fi novels filled with epic love stories, great adventures, and plenty of laughs. She lives in Australia with her husband, two beautiful daughters, and a couple of crazy pets. To date, she has sold over 1.5 million ebooks, and still can’t believe that she gets to create fantasy worlds as a job.

Author Links:

Mailing listWebsiteAmazon

InstagramFacebook Author PageFacebook Fan GroupTwitter



Midweek Tease: Continuing with Hello Again

Welcome to September and this week’s edition of the Midweek Tease. Thanks to Angelica Dawson and all the wonderful ladies who make this weekly blog hop possible. This morning, I bring you another snippet from Hello Again, my paranormal/suspense/romance based on a Native American legend.

Here’s the blurb:

For Charley Winters love means loss and pain. She’s spent the last five years struggling with her grief. Existing, not living. Drawn to Saskatchewan, she travels west take the job she’s always wanted. But life gets complicated when she’s rescued from a vicious tornado by her dead husband’s double, a man who makes her feel things she hasn’t in years. Add to that a native myth, a shaman, a green-eyed wolf, and her husband’s ghost … Can she lift a millennia old curse and find joy and love again?

And your tease:

HelloAgain-ebook-smallHanging up the phone, Bill Murdock put on his regular day-to-day-uniform, grateful he wouldn’t be melting in Red Serge, tossed his Kevlar vest over his arm—no need for that at the moment … it hadn’t helped him last August anyway—and headed out the door. After visiting his favorite drive through for coffee and a chocolate chip muffin, something he’d become addicted to since the shooting, he pulled into the RCMP parking lot at exactly twenty-five minutes before shift change.

“Murdock, I thought you were on vacation?” Greer, the dispatcher who usually covered his shift, asked.

“I was. I am. I should’ve gone north yesterday, but the guy I was supposed to go with couldn’t get the time off after all. So, since it’s just me … It’s hotter than Hades out there this morning, and it’s not even seven. I was going to go fishing, but even my tough old hide would burn to a crisp in this. Without air conditioning, I’d rather be here.”

“Tough old hide, my ass. You’ve got the sun-bronzed skin of a native god and the abs to match,” she said and chuckled. “Although why you do considering the sweet tooth you’ve developed this past year, is a mystery. But as far as the AC goes, don’t get too excited. There’s a big storm coming in, and we’ve had brown outs twice since I came on at seven last night. We had to turn down the AC so the lights would be bright enough to see. I hate that reduced power even more than a black out—at least then the emergency generator kicks in. I changed shifts with Kellerman, so I’m out of here in an hour. I’m heading to the cottage for the next ten days, where I intend to immerse myself in Lost Mountain Lake as long as I can. You’re welcome to join me.” She batted her eyes at him.

“Yeah, I’m sure that partner of yours would like that.”

“Well, if you change your mind … Lucy and I have a cord of wood that needs to be split and stacked.” She batted her eyes suggestively.

Bill laughed. “Ah ha! The truth comes out. You just want me for my muscles.”

“And they’re damn fine ones. A woman can appreciate roses even if she prefers lilacs.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called a rose before. It’s a little hot for that kind of work right now, but once the weather breaks, I’ll take a ride up there and do it for you. Might pitch a tent and do some fishing if that’s okay.”

“And I’ll fry that fish up for you just the way you like it. I’ll get Lucy to bake you a chocolate cake and throw in a case of beer if you’re going to stay.”

“Sounds like a plan. The way to this man’s muscles is definitely through his stomach. I’ll be in touch.”

He waved and headed down the hall.

Kathy Greer was at least twenty years older than he was and as committed to her life partner as he’d ever seen anyone. Lucy had suffered a stroke last winter, but was on the mend. Love was love regardless of gender. It pissed him off when people belittled it. He’d give anything to find the forever kind of love they had, but so far, it wasn’t in the cards for him.

He’d dated, had done the horizontal mambo with some delectable ladies, but he’d yet to find a woman who shared his interests, wouldn’t resent the demands of his job, and could look beyond his hazy background. He’d tried dating another officer, but between shift work and distance, since they couldn’t be in the same detachment, it had been more work than pleasure.

When it came right down to it, women wanted to know everything about their chosen mates, and most women would find it hard to accept the reality of a man who had no idea who his parents were or where he’d come from, let alone one whose job took as much time and involved the level of risk his did, as the scars on his chest and back pointed out.

The most excitement his libido had had in years had been the drug induced hallucinations of the gorgeous brunette he’d seen while he’d been in that coma last August. She might not have been real, but it had certainly felt that way. His body reacted to the memory. The imaginary sex had been out of this world, but it had been more than that—they’d shared a connection of some sort. It was as if he were reliving past life experiences, and since he didn’t buy that mumbo-jumbo…

Want to read more? Hello Again is available from any Amazon site and free to read with KU.


#MidWeekTease September 5, 2018