Good Morning Readers,
I’m paranormal romance author, Tabitha Shay. Welcome
to my blog site. I know there are some of you out there who probably wonder
just how much research goes into writing a novel. Well the answer is, at least
for me, sometimes a lot, sometimes not so much. When I wrote Witch’s Brew, I
thought I’d never finish researching Salem and witches, *giggles* but when I
wrote Send Him an Angel, it was a totally different thing. I was lucky that I’d
been to Deadwood, S.D., so was quite familiar with the history and the tales
behind the history. Like, I bet most of you believe there was something special
between Calamity Jane and Wild Bill Hickok. According to the tour guides and
historians from Deadwood, nope, there wasn’t. In fact, Will Bill barely
tolerated Calamity Jane. But as a final joke on poor old Bill, the citizens of
Deadwood, at the time of Calamity’s death, decided to bury her beside Bill. So
their final resting place is side by side. One of the things I found
interesting when we visited Mount Moriah Cemetery, was the fact that there was
money lying all over his grave and no one touched it or tried to take it. I
guess there are some who wished to give him the money to play a final round of
poker. Hey, we’re guilty too. We left a little cash on his grave for him also.As hubby and I were walking down the narrow streets of Deadwood, a funny thing happened. I looked up and coming toward us was this slender, dapper dressed man with a big mustache and a gun strapped to his hip, long hair, and certainly Wild Bill would have been impressed with this impersonator. It was like a blast from the past. He stopped to chat with for a minute and I asked him if he was the man who got shot in the back of the head. His reply, “Every damn day, three times a day.”
Strolling through the town and entering saloon after saloon (mostly gift shops these days) it got me to thinking. The niggling of a story started growing in the back of my head. I thought of all the *soiled doves* who once walked the streets of Deadwood or worked in the numerous saloons and I thought instead, why not angels? Why not have angels on the streets of Deadwood, instead of the women who worked and died in such a cruel way? And so my book, Send Him an Angel was born.
I hope you enjoy the blurb and excerpt from my latest release. Be sure and scope out the other SCP author’s blog sites this weekend for some great prizes. Please leave a comment for a chance to win a pdf copy of Send him an Angel, and oh yes, I highly recommend Deadwood and the surrounding area for a wonderful vacation spot. You won’t regret it.
BLURB/SEND
HIM AN ANGEL/ SHAY
In
the Badlands of the Dakota Territory, a war rages between good and evil,
between angels
and Satan’s three sons…
Earth
Angel —Elizabeth Bonner’s plans for her wedding dissolve when she discovers her
fiancé cheating. To escape the pain and humiliation, she flees to the rowdy
mining town of Deadwood Gulch where one person stands between her and
hell—Gabriel King.
Dark
Angel —Gabriel is feared by most, but he meets his match with Elizabeth. 1876,
Dakota Territory is no place for a lady whose innocence is tempting as sin.
Toss in a couple of trouble-making cherubs, and the Old West will never be the
same.
Elizabeth
and Gabriel —more than one war is brewing in the Black Hills…
He
spread the makeshift covers over both of them and drifted into sleep. Elizabeth
closed her eyes and joined him in blissful sleep.
She
didn’t know how long she slept, but the oddest sensation of being watched
tugged her out of the light sleep she’d drifted into. Opening her eyes, she
squeaked at the sight of horse’s hoofs surrounding their small bed. About ten
sets of horses circled them. “What?” She rose halfway up careful to hold the
clothes against her bosom.
Gabe
slid his arm around her waist. “What is it?” he mumbled.
Elizabeth
dug her nails in his hand, her breath caught in her throat. “Wake up,” she
whispered urgently.
“What?”
Gabe sat up, his face registering surprise. “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah,
that’s kind of what I thought. Who are they?”
“Cheyenne.
Let’s hope to hell they’re peaceful.”
Elizabeth
eyed the younger man in the group. He sat astride his painted pony, straight
and proud, his long, black hair hanging around his shoulders. He was handsome,
but a bit scary and intimidating. He stared back at her, his expression solemn
as a fence post, but she had the awful feeling he was laughing at them. There
was something in his dark eyes, a touch of smugness she couldn’t quite define.
Then she knew. He’d seen them making love. For whatever reasons, he and his
whole little band of natives had observed them being intimate. “Oh, God,” she
whispered. “They know what we did.”
Gabe
nodded. “I believe you’re right. Damn.”
“Oh,
God,” she repeated, and lowered her head, embarrassed.
“Look
at this way, sweetheart. None of them likely speak English, so aren’t apt to
tell anyone we know what they witnessed.” Gabe grabbed his pants and slipped
them on under the cover. “Downright degrading catching a man with his pants
down,” he uttered. Cautiously, he rose to his feet, bare-chested and
bare-footed. “I’m Gabriel King. This is my wife, Elizabeth.”
The
Indian nodded, his lips quirking. “I’m Grey Wolf. I speak English very well, as
do all the members of my small band, but we don’t gossip like old women.”
Elizabeth
squeaked and hid her face under the covers. “Can’t speak English, huh?”
She
heard masculine laughter and peeped over the covers. What the heck did those
savages find so funny?
The one called Grey Wolf nodded at her. “I
understand a riverboat exploded. Are you two survivors?”
Elizabeth
swallowed back a sharp breath at his perfect English.
Gabe
nodded. “We could use a ride to Yankton. That is, if you’d be willing to give
us one.”
Grey
Wolf nodded. He said something in his native tongue and one of the men slid off
his horse. “You can take Little Eagle’s mare. Do not worry about returning it.
Keep it. It’s a gift.”
“But…we
can’t just take a man’s horse,” Elizabeth protested.
“Maybe
one day, I will need a favor from you,” Grey Wolf said.
/Be sure and scope out the other SCP author's blog sites for prizes and great stories.//http://secretcravingspublishing.blogspot.com/ There are lots of prizes.
Posts
