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Category: Beverley Bateman

Since it’s still International Women’s Month I thought I’d focus on a Canadian woman, Viola Desmond.                                                                                                             Viola Desmond is the first woman on a Canadian dollar bill. She’s on our ten-dollar bill.

Viola Desmond was born Viola Davis, July 16, 1914, in Halifax, Nova Scotia. She was a civil rights activist and businesswoman and beautician of Black Nova Scotian descent. She married Jack Desmond. In 1946 , she challenged racial segregation  at a cinema in New Glasgow, Nova Scotia  by refusing to leave a whites-only area of the   Roseland Theatre . For this, she was convicted of a minor tax violation for the one-cent tax difference between the seat that she had paid for and the seat that she used, which was more expensive. Desmond’s case is one of the most publicized incidents of racial discrimination  in Canadian history and helped start the modern civil rights movement in Canada. She died on February 7, 1965.

In 2010, Desmond was granted a posthumous pardon , the first to be granted in Canada. In 2016, the Bank of Canada  inaccurately announced that Desmond would be the first Canadian woman to be featured on the front of a Canadian banknote, but that honour went to Agnes Macphail , who appeared along with three men on a small print run commemorative note issued in 2017 to mark the 150th anniversary of Confederation.

In late 2018, Desmond became the first Canadian woman to appear alone on a Canadian banknote — a $10 bill  which was unveiled by the Finance Minister  on March 8, 2018. Desmond was also named a National Historic Person  in 2018.

Holly Devine - Assistant PI (2 book series) by Beverley Bateman

A Cruise to Remember

An amnesia victim found by the side of the road is befriended by Lillian, an older woman with early Alzheimer's. Lillian takes the victim, who they call Hallie, with her as a companion on a Caribbean cruise. Eric is an Interpol agent working on catching an international jewelry theft ring. He's undercover as the ship's doctor on the Caribbean cruise ship. Sparks fly when Hallie and Eric meet, but as the cruise progresses Eric’s thinking Hallie might be the thief stealing from the passengers. His reasoning is Hallie’s amnesia and Lillian’s Alzheimer's make a good cover. What’s the chance of two people traveling together having amnesia and Alzheimer’s? And then Lillian keeps coming up with pieces of jewelry passengers have dropped or lost.

 

To complicate everything someone is trying to kill Hallie and she has no idea why. Lillian finds an older cowboy who she's interested in and then there's the sleazy man who keeps hitting on Hallie. As the cruise progresses Hallie gradually starts to regain her memory. Eric decides she's not a thief, but has to find the real one and keep Hallie safe while their romance heats up.

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Excerpt

Strange.

She sat back up and twisted around to adjust Eric’s jacket. There was a hole in the back of the deck chair.

Funny, I don’t remember it being there before I picked up the jacket.

She ran her finger over the hole.

“Here we go.” Eric carried a couple of tall, red, orange and yellowed colored drinks topped off with parasols.

“What were you doing?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. There was a funny sound, like a mosquito, and I think this hole just appeared.”

“What the hell...?” Eric placed the drinks onto a nearby table. He ran his finger over the hole.

“It’s a bloody bullet hole.”

“A what? You’re kidding?”

“No, I’m not. Where were you when it happened?” Eric looked at the hole. He squinted back in the direction it would have come from.

“I guess that’s when I bent down to pick up your jacket.”

“My God, you could have been killed.” Eric pulled Hallie into his arms and squeezed her against his chest. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

“I think so. I mean, I wasn’t hit or anything. I can’t figure out what’s happening. This has to be one of the worst nights of my life.” 

 


 

A Murder To Forget (Holly Devine)

A woman disappears along with the country club golf pro. The woman's sister believes the husband has murdered the woman. The husband says they've run off together. Holly has been assigned the case to find out what happened to the woman. Her search leads her to an arms dealer with a waterfront estate in Florida and his sinister right hand, who keeps threatening Holly. The ATF are watching the man, trying to find out the details of an arms deal that's coming down, where they can arrest the man. 

The arms dealer, and husband, shows an interest in Holly. He invites her out. Holly is contacted and asked to help them with their case because she looks a little like the man's wife and t he's interested in her. She can get inside the estate and maybe, find out information about when the deal is going down. Holly agrees, even though it could put her life in danger.

 

All the protection techniques in place go awry. Will Holly survive?

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Excerpt

PROLOGUE

Brilliant oranges and reds danced against the backdrop of an inky black sky. Two red taillights drove away from the display and disappeared into the darkness.

Flames shot toward the heavens and illuminated the darkness of the night. A few scraggly palm trees stood guard in the background.

For a second, the flames almost disappeared. They withdrew to ground level and crawled on a belly of orange and white along the dirt. They flared up even higher and brighter; fingers of yellow and green reached for the sky. Soft yellows and mauves slipped in and out amongst the brilliant reds and oranges and created a beautiful choreography of color. They moved in tune to a silent orchestra.

The show continued throughout most of the night. It could have been a beautiful Las Vegas revue with the vivid colors dancing against the night sky, but unlike a Las Vegas Revue, no one was there to see it. No one enjoyed the choreography of the beautiful dance or the splendid colors that pranced around the night.

There was no applause - only a deadly silence. 

Sierra Brave is a multi-published author of heart-pounding, blush-inducing romance with put-you-in-the-moment love scenes. She enjoys writing about a variety of gorgeous alpha males who can’t resist head-strong heroines. Curvy girls have a special place in her heart and often grace the pages of her books. Tales of shifters, cowboys, twisted fairy tales, space pirates, Amazon warriors, and vampires capture her imagination as do tempting spanking and ménage scenarios, but she also engages in more down-to-earth themes such as office romance. You’ll find lots of unique characters and humor in all of her stories.

Blurb for Scarlett and the Big Bad

Promised power and position, Scarlett Capuche left her tiny village to join the prestigious Order of the Phoenix.

Monty Blackwolf never wanted a mate, especially not a human raised on a hidden farm for blood-ritual sacrifice. But his werewolf’s heightened sense of smell drew him to Scarlett’s sweet fragrance from miles away.

Duty-bound to protect her, he will break her of her religious devotion to the magical terrorist group responsible for the murders of his parents and older brother, even if he has to put her over his knee and turn her bottom as red as her hair.

She belongs to him now, and he will claim all of her despite his affliction with a unique, third shifter-form he doesn’t fully understand and isn’t able to control.

Will Monty save Scarlett, or will he prove more dangerous to her than anyone else?

Author’s Note: If you’re offended by steamy fairytale retellings with graphic language, explicit put-you-in-the-moment love scenes, elements of power exchange, and domestic discipline, you might want to look for a different book.

Excerpt from Scarlett and the Big Bad

“Elosha warned me. She said there would be people who would try to turn me against The Order, predominantly men because they can’t stand a matriarchal society with the dominant power. She said that’s why men only want to marry virgins because they’re too selfish to raise a baby that isn’t their blood.” Without waiting for his rebuttal, she ran for the exit, but as she opened the passage a couple of inches, he slapped his huge hand against the wood and forced her escape-access shut.

He pinned her against the door. “You are mine, and you aren’t going anywhere unless I say you can.”

“Talk about proving my point.” She yanked at the knob.

His breath clung to her nape as his strapping body crushed her. She closed her eyes, unable to move beneath his weight. He held each of her wrists, his palms surrounding them, and applying enough pressure she knew he could break her bones if he desired. His cock pressed against her ass, hardening as she squirmed. He brushed his cheek against the side of her forehead, prickling her skin with his beard.

“I’m sorry, Scarlett. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but you have to understand who’s in charge. You will obey me.”

Scarlett’s heart thumped as sweat trickled down from her hairline. She had no idea what to expect from this man who ran hot and cold in the blink of an eye.

Buy Links for Scarlett and the Big Bad:

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08VS2SS2N

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08VS2SS2N/

Universal Link: https://books2read.com/u/mKyePP

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The 2021 UN theme for International Women’s Day is “Women in leadership: Achieving an equal future in a COVID-19 world”, highlighting the impact that girls and women worldwide had as health care workers, caregivers, innovators, and community organizers during the COVID-19 pandemic.  Its associated Hashtag will be #IWD2021 and #InternationalWomensDay.

International Women’s Day is a global holiday celebrated annually on March 8 to commemorate the cultural, political, and socioeconomic achievements of women. It is also a focal point in the women’s rights movement, bringing attention to issues such as gender equality, reproductive rights, and violence against women.

IWD originated from labor movements in North America and Europe during the early 20th century. The earliest version was purportedly a “Women’s Day” organized by the  Socialist Party of America  in New York City, February 28, 1909. After women gained suffrage in Soviet Russia  in 1917, IWD was made a national holiday on March 8. The holiday was associated with far-left movements and governments until its adoption by the global feminist movement in the late 1960s. IWD became a mainstream global holiday following its adoption by the United Nations in 1977.

It is a public holiday in several countries. The UN observes the holiday in connection with a particular issue, campaign, or theme in women’s rights. In some parts of the world, IWD still reflects its political origins, being marked by protests and calls for radical change; in other areas, particularly in the West, it is largely sociocultural and centered on a celebration of womanhood.

IWD initially had no set date, though it was generally celebrated in late February or early March. Americans continued to observe “National Women’s Day” on the last Sunday in February, while Russia observed International Women’s Day for the first time in 1913, on the last Saturday in February (albeit based on the Julian calendar, as in the Gregorian calendar, the date was March 8). In 1914, International Women’s Day was held on March 8 for the first time in Germany. As elsewhere, Germany’s observance was dedicated to women’s right to vote, which German women did not win until 1918. Concurrently, there was a march in London in support of women’s suffrage.

IWD remained predominantly a communist holiday until roughly 1967 when it was taken up by second-wave feminists. The day re-emerged as a day of activism and is sometimes known in Europe as the “Women’s International Day of Struggle”. In the 1970s and 1980s, women’s groups were joined by leftists and labor organizations in calling for equal pay, equal economic opportunity, equal legal rights, reproductive rights, subsidized child care, and the prevention of violence against women.

The United Nations began celebrating International Women’s Day in 1975, which had been proclaimed the International Women’s Year. In 1977, the United Nations General Assembly invited member states to proclaim March 8 as an official UN holiday for women’s rights and world peace. 

By the twenty-fi rst century, IWD has been criticized as heavily diluted and commercialized, particularly in the West, where it is sponsored by major corporations and used to promote general and vague notions of equality, rather than radical social reforms. In 2009, the British marketing firm Aurora Ventures set up an “International Women’s Day” website with corporate sponsorship. The website began to promote hashtags as themes for the day, which became used internationally.  

Thank you, Wikipedia for most of this information.

Maggie McGonigal will protect her son at any cost, including her own life. After seven years in witness protection someone has found her and is trying to kill her. She contacts the man she never wanted to see again. Now to convince him to take a son he doesn’t know about back to his ranch in Montana, so she can disappear again.

 

Cody Hawkins comes running when the woman he wants to forget calls him for help. Someone is trying to kill her.

 

It’s been seven years since Maggie walked away. Why contact him now? Who would want to kill her? Can he help her and then walk away from her? Or can he convince her to return to Montana and let him protect her?

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Excerpt

Cody felt like he’d been sucker punched. 

Clutching his Stetson in front of him he glanced from Maggie to the bathroom. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

This dark haired boy with intense blue eyes, a missing front tooth and an infectious grin looked like a nice enough kid, but… “You want me to what?” 

Maggie lowered her voice. “Shh, not so loud, I need you to take Matt back to the ranch and keep him safe.” 

“Have you lost your mind? Why would you want me to do that?” 

“Because I need someone I trust to keep him safe. If Matt stays with me, he’s in danger and could be killed.” 

“You don’t just send your kid away with a stranger.” 

“Sometimes you do, but you’re not a stranger. You protected me growing up. I just need you to protect him, now. I’m sure my parents will help look after him.” 

“Protect him from what?” 

“Here, Mommy.” Matt handed her a glass. The water sloshed onto Maggie’s shoes and the carpet. 

“Thank you, honey.” She took the glass and gave him a squeeze. “Why don’t you turn the TV on? You can watch cartoons for a few minutes.” 

“Yippee.” He raced across the room to the bed, bouncing onto it.

Cody stared at her as she watched Matt grab the remote and turn on the TV. When the TV screen came into focus, Matt flopped down on his stomach and clicked until he found a cartoon channel. His chin on his hands, he stared intently on the program. 

“Okay, Maggie, give. What the hell is this all about?” Cody lowered his voice. 

5 Star Review

R. Courtright 

"Maggie is in witness protection with her six year old son, but someone is trying to kill her, probably the crime boss whose son is in prison due to Maggie's testimony. She contacts the man she once loved, Cody Hawkins, but when he betrayed her, she fled her home town in Montana pregnant with his child. Now she desperately needs his help. Cody takes Maggie and her son Matt home to his family's ranch. He isn't going to let Maggie run away again, and when he finds the boy he has already let beguile him is his son, quickly falls in love with him. Both Maggie and Cody have made serious mistakes in their past, but with killers hunting Maggie and another, persistent and vindictive woman hunting Cody, can he and Maggie find love? This story is full of great characters, and both alpha man Cody and strong woman Maggie can be ornery, but the story also circles around the very strong Hawkins family and the very loyal town's people, which adds an interesting dimension to it."

Targeted by Beverley Bateman

After and eleven year absence Janna Kincaid inherits a ranch and is forced to return to a town she only remembers with unhappiness, a man to whom she was briefly married and never wants to see again, and someone is trying to kill her.

 

Kye Hawkins has loved Janna since he first met her. They were married but a few weeks later she ran away, without an explanation. He still hasn't figured out why. Now she's coming back. Does she still love him? Can he rekindle the romance and also prevent her from being killed.

 

Janna doesn't want Kye's help in anyway, yet he always seems to be there when she's in trouble. Can they work together to find a killer, save the Native burial ground and home of the spirits, and find romance again?

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Excerpt

Someone had shot her back tire. Janna gripped the wheel to keep the vehicle on the road. She debated whether to try and outrun the shooter, wherever he was, or find cover. The windshield shattered as a third bullet entered the passenger side.

So much for outrunning the shooter.

She scanned the area and spotted an outcropping of rocks a few feet ahead on her right. She aimed the vehicle in that direction.

Two more shots, and both the back tires went down.

Definitely find cover.

Janna ducked low behind the steering wheel until the vehicle reached the rocks. When the car stopped, she grabbed the keys from the ignition and her purse and dove out the door. Bullets bounced off the rocks behind her as she scrambled for cover. Whoever was doing the shooting was serous. Anyone of the shots could have hit her.

She reached the rocks, keeping low until she got to the middle where she curled up as tightly as possible, her back against a rock. Her heart pounded in her ears, her breathing came in gasps. This was getting to be a habit. First someone tried to kill her in Seattle, and now, out in this god-forsaken country.

What the hell is going on? Why are they shooting at me? Was it the same person who shot at me in Seattle? That doesn’t seem likely, but who even knew I was coming here? Maybe it’s someone just trying to rob a stranger.

Yeah right, be honest, Janna, does this road look like many strangers came this way? And if they did, would they have a lot to steal? You really think this person selected a spot in the rocks where he would have a good shot at my vehicle. Coincidence? Not damn likely.

At least she’d worn boots and jeans—even if they were designer jeans. Now they were filthy, and so was her red sweater and jean jacket.

Another shot hit the rock behind her. She rolled over onto her stomach, shaded her eyes, and squinted into the sun. He must be up on the cliffs straight ahead. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she might have glimpsed a light, maybe a reflection off his scope.

Terrific! Now what? My gun is in my purse. I could fire back, but that would be a waste of bullets at this distance. 

She yanked out her cell and punched in 9-1-1.

Damn—no reception.

A pounding pulsed through the ground and came closer. Janna could feel the vibrations. It felt like horses. She glanced around, without raising her head, to see what was coming.

Suddenly there was a hand in front of her face.

“Grab it and jump on.”

The deep, rumbling voice was not asking. It was an order.

Janna grabbed the strong hand. In one smooth motion, she swung up behind a man on his horse. Seconds later, she had her hands wrapped around his well-developed, muscular chest, as the big chestnut thundered across the ground, out of the bullets’ range.

The man wore a leather jacket over a sweater. Her hands slid under the jacket for better grip. Even through the sweater she could feel sinewy muscles. She laid her head against his back and his braid. She took a breath in, inhaling the rich scent of leather, trying to calm her racing heart rate.

She glanced behind her. The cliffs were fading into the distance. The muscles of his well-developed shoulders bunched and relaxed as he led the horse at a gallop across the field. She felt safe for some unfathomable reason.

He had a familiar woodsy scent that made her think of sex under pine trees, not that she’d ever made love there. In fact, her sex life was pretty negligible these days.

They’d been riding for several minutes when Janna leaned forward. “You can put me down any place. I can manage now.”

“Really? And just what are you going to do out here, miles from town, by yourself, with someone shooting at you?”

The voice was deep, but soft, and rolled over her like warmed brandy. It triggered something in the back of her memory. The earthy scent, the sinewy body, the braid, the voice… She knew this person who had ridden up out of nowhere to save her.

“I have my cell. I’ve already called 9-1-1,” she snapped.

“And did you get an answer?”

Janna yanked her cell phone up where she could see the screen again and re-tapped in 9-1-1. And then there was that famous phrase—No Service.

There was a deep chuckle. “That’s what I thought. There’s no service in this area. The mountains block it.”

It’s Women’s History Month.

Women’s History Month is an annual declared month that highlights the contributions of women to events in history and contemporary society. It is celebrated during March in the United States, the United Kingdom, and Australia, corresponding with  International Women’s Day   on March 8, and during October in Canada, corresponding with the celebration of   Pers ons Day  o n October 18.

In the United States, Women’s History Month traces its beginnings back to the first   International Women’s D ay  in 1911. In 1978, the   school district   of  Sonoma, California  participated in  Women’s History Week , an event designed around the week of March 8 (International Women’s Day). In 1979 a fifteen-day conference about women’s history was held at   Sarah Lawrence Col lege   from July 13 until July 29, chaired by historian  Gerda Lerner . It was co-sponsored by Sarah Lawrence College, the   Women’s Action All iance , and the Smithsonian Institution. When its participants learned about the success of the Sonoma County’s Women’s History Week celebration, they decided to initiate similar celebrations within their own organizations, communities, and school districts. They also agreed to support an effort to secure a National Women’s History Week

In February 1980, President Jimmy Carter issued a presidential proclamation declaring the week of March 8, 1980, as National Women’s History Week. The proclamation stated, “From the first settlers who came to our shores, from the first American Indian families who befriended them, men and women have worked together to build this nation. Too often the women were unsung and sometimes their contributions went unnoticed. But the achievements, leadership, courage, strength, and love of the women who built America was as vital as that of the men whose names we know so well. As Dr.   Gerda Lerner   has noted, ‘Women’s History is Women’s Right.’ It is an essential and indispensable heritage from which we can draw pride, comfort, courage, and long-range vision. I ask my fellow Americans to recognize this heritage with appropriate activities during National Women’s History Week, March 2–8, 1980. I urge libraries, schools, and community organizations to focus their observances on the leaders who struggled for equality – Susan B. Anthony ,  Sojourner Truth ,   Lucy Stone ,  Lucretia Mott ,  Eliza beth     Cady Stanton ,   Harriet  Tubman and  Alice Paul .   Understanding the true his tory of our country will help us to comprehend the need for full equality under the law for all our people. This goal can be achieved by ratifying the 27th Amendment to the United States Constitution, which states that ‘Equality of Rights under the   Law shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex. Carter was referring to the   Equal Rights Amendment , which was never ratified, not to the amendment which did become the 27th Amendment to the United States Constitution after his presidency.

In 1981, responding to the growing popularity of Women’s History Week, Sen.  Orrin Hatch  (R- Utah ) and Rep   Barbara Mikulsk i   (D- Maryland ) co-sponsored the first Joint Congressional Resolution proclaiming a Women’s History Week. Congress passed their resolution, which authorized and requested the President to proclaim the week beginning March 7, 1982 as “Women’s History Week.” Throughout the next several years, Congress continued to pass joint resolutions designating a week in March as Women’s History Week. Schools across the  country also began to have their own local celebrations of Women’s History Week and even Women’s History Month. By 1986, fourteen states had declared March as Women’s History Month. (This is thanks to Wikipedia)

The following year, Congress declared  March  1987 as the first official Women’s History Month.  

Women’s History Month is a time when we can educate ourselves on historic moments women fought for and our progress thus far, along with celebrating women as a whole. And what better way to do that than reading a bunch of books about women by women?

If you are looking for recommendations on biographies that will educate you, comedies that will make your belly ache or stories that encapsulate the unique challenges women face every day, read on. Here’s a website that lists more books to read during Women’s History Month.      https://www.cnn.com/2021/03/01/cnn-underscored/womens-history-month-books

Want to educate yourself in another way as well? Some interesting podcasts to listen to during this month include “The History Chicks ” by Beckett Graham and Susan Vollenweider, “Stuff Mom Never Told You ” by iHeartRadio and “The Other Half: The History of Women Through the Ages ” by James Boulton.

Portraits of women trailblazers Esther Marjorie Hill, Gisèle Lamoureux, Joy Kogawa, Nellie Cournoyea and Portia White .

March is Women’s History Month. Also, The Ides of March and St Patrick’s Day. It’s a busy month. 

 

Women's History Month is an annual declared month that highlights the contributions of women to events in history and contemporary society. It is celebrated during March in the United States, the United Kingdom, and Australia, corresponding with International Women's Day on March 8. 

 

There’s a saying, ‘If March comes in like a Lion it goes out like a Lamb.’ I think with the Polar Vortex, rain, and wind that qualifies as coming in like a Lion. Let’s hope for spring and March leaving like a lamb. 

 

Covid may be starting to improve. People are getting vaccinations against it. We’re still wearing masks and social distancing. I’m beginning to feel things may improve and my muse is back from a winter vacation. 

 

I’ve started to write. Not a lot, but more than I have been. I’m also taking a break from my novel and writing a novella. We’ll see how it goes. 

 

I do a BIAW and many of the participants are saying they aren’t motivated, can’t focus, or aren’t interested in writing, or their story. For many the Covid has affected people, writer, emotionally and mentally. As Covid retreats I hope our writers become more normal and excited about writing.


 

Targeted by Beverley Bateman

U.S. Cover

Here’s another excerpt from Targeted.

 

A few minutes later Janna swung up on Blaze’s back and trotted out the gate. They continued to trot for a short distance while Janna got the feel of the saddle and his gait, then she nudged him gently. Blaze broke into a cantor and headed toward the trail and up the hill. Within minutes she’d adjusted to his gait.

The familiar scent of pine trees reached her nostrils, the smell of the outdoors. A breeze ruffled her hair. The silence was unbelievable. You didn’t get that in the city and you never got complete silence.

“Let’s go, boy.”

Blaze increased his gait to a gallop. His hooves pounded across the dry ground. Janna tightened her grip on the reins, enjoying the freedom as she rode past familiar parts of the ranch. It felt good. She’d missed this. Maybe she could keep the ranch and spend a few months of the year here.

Yeah right—never going to happen.

Besides, there was Kye. She had been sure she was over him, but he still caused emotions she didn’t want to feel. Anytime he was around those damn feelings kicked in. She wanted him to hold hr, kiss her and make love. She remembered their lovemaking. Oh yeah, did she remember their lovemaking? 

And then there was the fact someone was trying to kill her. If she hung around very long they might succeed. Of course, they’d tried once in Seattle so they could try again wherever she was. She wouldn’t be safe until whoever it was, got caught. 

She gave herself a shake and concentrated on the ranch as they rode. She tried to remember the layout as they galloped along. It had been a long time since she’d ridden around it with Duke and she’d been a lot younger. Back then she hadn’t paid too much attention where they rode. She enjoyed riding and being with Duke.

Janna pulled lightly on the reins and Blaze veered to her right.

The sun beat down on her back. It felt good. So did the fresh air and the smell of cattle when she rode past a small herd. A little later she recognized the fencing between Duke’s place and the Hawkins ranch. Colorado spruce dotted the landscape along the fence. Farther along Janna spotted Green Mountain ash on a small hill. Janna smiled. She’d even remembered the name. Gradually things were coming back to her. There were some good memories here.

The motion of riding in the saddle felt soothing. She needed to do this more often. She’d forgotten how much she’d enjoyed her time on the ranch and she loved riding.

They headed toward the grove of tall pine trees at the back corner of the property. The tall trees were bunched close together. No sun got through their thick branches.

The grove bordered the Blackfeet land. It was the burial ground for Blackfeet chiefs, medicine men and other elder tribe members and was considered a sacred grove, a holy place. The Native Americans came here for guidance and to talk to their elders. It was on Duke’s property. Somehow the Blackfeet had never registered their claim and the grove became part of the ranch property. But Duke had always respected the Native American claim to the land, and they had free access from any side of the grove.

Now with Duke gone and her life being threatened the grove could also be in danger. She needed to protect it.

Janna reined in Blaze and halted a few hundred yards away. Leaning forward on the saddle horn Janna stared into the grove of Lodgepole and Ponderosa pine trees.  They stood tall and stately, crowded close together to form a dark impenetrable forest. Other people, like Kye, said the souls of past native chiefs lived there and could only be seen by members of their tribe or the owner of the ranch. The story went that the spirits sometimes helped people with difficult decisions.

She’d asked Duke about it once.  He’d told her the spirits lived in the grove and sometimes appeared to him and talked to him. He’d smiled and said, “If I have important questions, I ride out there.”

“Do they talk to you?”

Duke shook his head.

When she’d been a child, she’d hoped to see them. Now, as an adult, she’d dismissed them as a myth.

A shivered shook her spine. Smoke or low clouds formed amongst the trees.

Were their people there, in the smoke?

Hazy figures gradually took the wispy forms of the native Blackfeet chiefs and elders. A chill crept down her spine. Duke had been telling the truth. Now they stood tall among the trees regarding her.

Janna squinted into the darkness and swallowed several times.

Was her mind playing tricks?

The leader was dressed in the full Blackfeet chief regalia. A couple of others appeared to be medicine men and one was a woman. 

They waited.

“I’m Janna. Duke left me the ranch.”

The forms, or spirits, as she was beginning to think of them, nodded.

“He’s dead.”

They stared at her.

Of course, if he left the ranch to her he was dead. They must think she was a complete idiot.

They appeared to be waiting for something—questions? Comments?

“Was Duke murdered?” It popped out of her mouth and shocked her.

Where had that come from?

The elder in the center nodded. The others followed in agreement.

Janna sat stunned. “Was it a robbery?”

This time they shook their heads.

If you believed in the spirits and what they had acknowledged, Duke had been murdered. Kye was right, but then he’d probably checked it out with the spirits, too.

“Who did it?”

They stared at her.

Okay, they didn’t speak.

“Am I in danger?”

They nodded.

She sat quietly staring into the grove.

“Should I keep Eli with me?”

This time they smiled and nodded.

“I am going to sell the ranch. Many people want to buy it. One of them is a government agency.”

The spirits shook their heads.

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t sell to them. What about the conglomerate that wants to buy it?”

Again they shook their heads. The smoke began to dissipate.

“I have more questions.” Janna watched the smoke disappear.

 

The dark forbidding grove stood tall and imposing. After several minutes she turned Blaze toward the ranch. Maybe the spirits only answered so many questions or stayed for so long. The encounter felt surreal. Janna tried to digest what had occurred.


 

Other than my group blog on my blog, March 23rd, I’m not doing a lot of guest spots this month.

You can still follow me follow me on my blog Tuesday and Thursday at https://beverleybateman.blogspot.com/ for how I’m doing, tips, hints and guest authors. There are some exciting authors and their new books this month. Have a good month. 

Beverley Bateman Blogger

 

And you can follow me follow me on my blog Tuesday and Thursday at https://beverleybateman.blogspot.com/ for how I’m doing, tips, hints and guest authors. There are some exciting authors and their new books this month. 

Happy St Patrick’s Day!

It’s time for a monthly group blog. Thanks, Rhobin for pulling this together every month. This one looks like a fun one. Where do you get your ideas for stories? It’s also a little difficult. I write romantic suspense and ideas come from all over. I may hear about a mystery or crime. Or a character comes to me with a history.

For example, cloning was big at one time and there was a lot of discussion on allowing it pro and against. That got me thinking about possibilities and I did some research and By Design became a book.

I attended a conference in Reno, and we visited the Sheriff’s department. One of the female officers worked the Cyber Crimes Against Children Unit in internet chat rooms. She tracked down and caught pedophiles trying to lure young people into sexual situations. Don’t Go became a book.

I was at another conference. This one was held in the Empress Hotel in Victoria, BC. There’s a balcony overlooking the grand lobby and registration area. I was looking down on it and I imagined a cowboy, with spurs, striding across the marble floor in the lobby. A total contrast. He became the hero, and I wrote the book Hunted . It was the first in the series and the next books build on it.

After visiting New Orleans, and seeing a ghost (but that’s another story), I decided It was a perfect spot for a murder and a mystery with a touch of voodoo and paranormal. So I wrote Death Southern Style. 

I believe women are equal to me (if not superior). I feel women should be valued and not exposed to physical, mental, or emotional abuse or treated as second class citizens. I think I read about a woman being put to death, maybe in Saudi Arabia for adultery. The man went free. I wanted to write about women who were saved by other women. I developed a team of trained, funded, women who could save other women. That book is The Foundation, Sara’s Story, The Fourth Victim . It’s the first in a series.

So. where do I get my ideas? They can develop from so many different ways. I think you have to stay open to what you see, hear and feel and take that kernel of an idea and write it from your perspective and with the help of your muse. In my case, I also add a romance and a Happy Ever After ending.

 

I’m looking forward to seeing where all these other authors get their ideas.

Skye Taylo r  http:// www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea

Anne Stenhouse   http: //annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com

Connie Vines  http://mizging.blogspot.com /

Diane Bator   http: //dbator.blogspot.ca/

Dr. Bob Rich https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2eA

Fiona McGier http://www.fionamcgier.com/

Helena Fairfax  http ://www.helenafairfax.com/blog

Marci Baun http://www.marcibaun.com/blog/

Victoria Chatham  http: //www.victoriachatham.com

Judith Cope k  ht tp://lynx-sis.blogspot.com/

Rhobin L Courtright   http: //www.rhobincourtright.com

 

Brenda Whiteside is the author of suspenseful, action-adventure stories with a touch of romance. Mostly. She and her husband are gypsies at heart having lived in six states and two countries. For now they’ve settled in Central Arizona, but won’t discount the possibility of another move in their future. They share their home with a rescue dog named Amigo. While FDW is fishing, Brenda writes.

2020 Character Interview

Beverley: What’s your name?

Magpie: Magpie Muse MacKenzie

Beverley: Where did you grow up?

Magpie: I was born and raised in Joshua, Arizona, a mining town of the late 1880s and early 1900s. When mining died, Joshua turned into a ghost town then a hippie haven, and now a tourist town hanging on the side of Spirit Mountain.

Beverley: During what time period does your story take place?

Magpie: The story takes place in modern day Joshua, but there is a 1960s story within the story that helps to solve the mystery.

Beverley: What’s your story/back story? Why would someone come up with a story about you?

Magpie: My parents came to Joshua with the first wave of hippie and artist settlers. My mother was well-known for her mystic talents. She died when I was twelve. My father mourned deeply, wallowing in alcohol. When I was fifteen, his relationship with a woman ended with her murder. My seventeen-year-old boyfriend disappeared the same day. No one was ever charged. A doppelganger for my missing boyfriend walks into my mercantile the same day skeleton remains are found in the ruins. The universe sent me a message…solve the decades old mystery or become the next victim.

Beverley: What’s your goal in this story?

Magpie: My father is suspected of the murder of his girlfriend and complicit in the disappearance of my boyfriend decades earlier. I have to clear him.

Beverley: What conflicts are you facing?

Magpie: Is it possible my father is guilty? I’ve become attached to Zac, the look-alike for my missing boyfriend. He’s younger than I am, and, well, he looks like Mark. The vibrations and déjà vu moments he’s experiencing are leading us down a dangerous path to discover the truth.

Beverley: Do you have a plan for resolving them?

Magpie: Zac and I have come up with a sting operation to draw out the murderer. Hopefully, we can have each other’s backs and not fall victims.

Beverley: I s there anything else you’d like us to know about you?

Magpie: I have an older brother and a younger sister who want their stories told. Although I didn’t inherit my mother’s gift, both of my siblings are mystics to some degree. Harlan and I have not gotten along since our mother died. He’s the older sibling, but I was left with the responsibility of keeping our family together. Elidor hasn’t lived in Joshua for many years, but she’s coming home.

Blurb for Secrets of the Ravine:

When a ringer for her long-dead love walks into her life the same day skeletal remains are found at the edge of town, Magpie MacKenzie can’t ignore what the universe is telling her…solve the mystery, or become the next victim.

Lawyer Zack Peartree’s life is orderly and entanglement-free until he visits purportedly haunted Joshua, Arizona, and meets free-wheeling shopkeeper Magpie. Despite experiencing troubling visions and odd moments of déjà vu, Zack’s instantly drawn to Magpie and to the unsolved murder which troubles her so.

Using clues from her father’s past and Zack’s déjà vu moments, Magpie and Zack race to solve the mystery, avoid a murderous fate, and to discover their future…together.

Excerpt from Secrets of the Ravine:

Zac picked up the sack with the music box. “Are you the owner of this great store?”

“I am.” She returned his smile. “Magpie MacKenzie. And you are?”

“Zac Peartree. Is that your real name?”

Accustomed to his reaction, she gave her standard reply. “It’s a long story.”

“One I’m sure I’d enjoy hearing. Will you be working at your mercantile all weekend?”

She swallowed down the recurring flutter. “Mostly.”

“You all should have a drink at the Apparition Room tonight, the bar below the Copper Mountain Hotel down the block.” Phaedra finished stuffing paper around the sculpture for protection and then handed the box to the man with the redhead. “Our very own Magpie MacKenzie will be singing.”

Magpie scuffed a boot against her friend’s foot to quiet her.

“She’s on at eight.”

The blonde clapped her hands. “Great. Sounds fun.”

“I guess that means we’ll see you later, Magpie.” Zac followed his friends but peered over his shoulder with an unreadable expression before he disappeared out the door and into the chilly wind.

Slightly lightheaded, Magpie braced herself on the counter. “Honestly, Phaedra, I could—”

“Now, Mags, you haven’t been this tongue-tied over a guy in years.” She retrieved her purse from behind the counter where she’d set it when she came in. “I need to get going, and you need to enjoy the quivers that guy is giving you. I’d guess he’s only thirty or close to it, but what the hell, he’s hot. Every man should fill his jeans like that, not to mention his shoulders.” She stopped by the door. “You two looked at each other as if—”

“As if we know each other?”

“Know each other? I agree he bore a resemblance to Mark, but that’s all.”

“Really? Sacrebleu , Phaedra. When I stared into that face, I saw Mark…a soul…from twenty-eight years ago.” The soul of someone she’d loved.

Who might have been a murderer…or worse, murdered by my father .

Buy Links for Secrets of the Ravine:

Social Media Links

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Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3972045.Brenda_Whiteside

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