SUNRISE OVER TEXAS

It’s ironic, really, that my book Sunrise Over Texas releases when I’m watching the sun rise in California 🙂 Please excuse the craziness of this post. No pictures or anything, because I’m oh-my-God tired and need to get some sleep! But I wanted to share my contest with you, and an excerpt from Sunrise!

Okay, the contest is on my Facebook fan page. I have two parts. I’m asking daily questions and picking a winner from the comments. That winner will get a free download of either Sunrise or Don’t Look Back, Friday’s release. On Monday and Friday, the actual release days, the winner will also get a pair of handcrafted earrings from Firespirit Beads.

Also, at the end of the week, I’ll choose one random fan for a $25 Amazon gift card. IF I get more than 100 fans (I know, sounds sad, doesn’t it?), I’ll give a $25 gift card to two lucky fans. Sounds fun, right?

Okay, excerpt time.

Kit pushed the door of their quarters open with her backside, balancing Mr. Watson’s dirty dishes and her sewing basket.

Agnes looked up from stirring the fire. “He’s getting well?”

“And hungrier.” Kit set the basket on the table and wiped her hair back from her face with her wrist. Mr. Watson had drunk the gruel straight from the bowl and eaten two pieces of the awful bread, but she’d still heard his stomach grumbling when she left the room. Her own

had rumbled in response as he unknowingly ate her share of the bread. “I don’t know how we can continue to feed him. Have you seen the size of him?”

“No, you won’t let us go over there.” Mary pouted from the table where she kneaded more bread.

If they continued to use the bread starter and wheat at this rate, they’d spend the rest of the winter eating porridge. Kit’s taste buds rebelled. What she wouldn’t give for a sweet, juicy apple. Or apple pie. She didn’t even have what she’d need to make the crust.

“I don’t trust him.” Bad enough she’d let him know that no men were about. So far he was too weak to take advantage of the situation. If he decided to…well, she would ensure she alone suffered for her mistake.

“Why not?” Mary countered.

Kit set the basket on a nearby chair with a thunk. “I know nothing about him.”

Mary flipped her hair over her shoulder. “You spend enough time over there.”

“When he was fevered. Not when he’s awake and regaining his strength with every bowl of gruel.” She carried the dishes over to the wooden tub, so weary she could barely stand.

She would not admit to them that she missed the scent of a man, that being in the room with him reminded her of the cozy life she’d had with John, before he had brought her out here and abandoned her.

“Is he handsome?” Mary asked.

Silly romantic girl. Had Kit been so foolish? Had she changed? Because she did find him handsome, especially when he smiled and his cheeks dimpled and white teeth flashed.

She sniffed, trying to mask her reaction with disdain. “He’s dirty and smelly.” And young and strong. What would it be like to have someone to lean on again, to take some of the weight from her shoulders?

No. She’d promised herself she would not let anyone take charge of her life again, make her decisions for her. If this was the life she had to lead to keep that vow, so be it. She would be in control of her destiny from now on.

“He’s young,” Agnes remarked, sitting at the table near where Mary worked.

Kit tensed at the older woman’s disapproving tone. “That he is.”

“You need to watch yourself. Men have ideas about widows, especially young ones. You need to be on your guard.”

“I know.” She was always on her guard. She wished she could let it down, just for a bit. She tightened the cloak about her shoulders. “We need more wood.”

Grateful for the excuse to be out from under Agnes’s scrutiny, she walked into the yard. She stopped short at the sight of Mr. Watson standing in the doorway of the second lieutenant’s quarters, his hands braced on either side of the door as he inspected the yard. She wasn’t readyfor him to be on his feet. She needed more time to think, to prepare. She swept up her skirt and rushed across the open space.

“What are you doing out of bed?”

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