Monday, March 31

Welcome Angela Hayes

The Wranglers welcome Angela Hayes to the round corral today. She's introducing us to Love's Battle, her new release from The Wild Rose Press. 

A married mother of two, Angela splits her time between bringing characters to life by computer and yarn to life with needle and hook. You can find her at,  or email her at She’d love to hear from you.


Love Howard has more than a knack for matchmaking. Born from a forbidden passion and a twelve-hundred-year-old promise, she and her sisters can literally see true love. And while Love has no problem bringing other couples together, her own romantic life could use a little help.

Danton DeAngelo has always been well grounded in reality. So it throws him for no small loop when the woman he’s fallen for believes that she’s been reincarnated eleven times and can actually see true love.

Now Danton is faced with the biggest decision of his life. Accept Love for who she really is, or walk away from her forever.


            The hand Love pressed to her brow was visibly shaking. “There’s something I need to tell you.
I just need you to keep an open mind.”
            “What is it? Are you sick?” Danton asked.
            “No, I’m not sick.” Her voice trembled on a forced laugh. “It’s something else. Something I‘ve been trying to prepare you for. This would be so much easier if you believed in magic. If you could believe that what I’m about to tell you is the honest truth.”
            Turning, Love opened the iron chest, the hinges groaning with the effort as specks of rust littered the floor. From its depths she pulled out a clear plastic bag that she held tight to her chest, eyes closed, before handing it to a confused Danton.
            “This is my tartan, my plaid. Before it faded and was dinner for the moths, it was once patterned in checks of green, gray, and brown. The purple and white stripes that ran through the hem identified the wearer as part of the royal family.” Love tapped the plastic, her finger pointing out where each color should be. “It was a gift from my father. The first and only time my sister’s and I met him, he was on his deathbed, we were eighteen. A week later our mother died in the same moment he drew his last breath.” Needing the extra air Love drew a breath of her own. “That day was the thirteenth of February, eight-hundred and fifty-eight AD. My father was Cinaed mac Alpin, crowned king of the Picts and Gaels. He was Scotland’s first king.”
            “Eight- hundred and fifty-eight?” That couldn’t be right, she was only twenty-five. “Don’t you mean Nineteen-eighty-seven?”

            “No. I was born for the first time in Scotland during the middle of the ninth century.”

Here's the buy link: 

Thursday, March 27

Random March Thoughts

This is my last post for a month and I have nothing to write. Which means you are in for random thoughts from my head. 

Last night I came home and my evergreen clematis is in bloom! I should go take a picture and post it for you. Hang on.

Okay--that was much harder than I anticipated. I went outside armed with my iPhone--which I admit, I am not totally proficient with yet--and tried to take a picture. However, the camera was on video mode so I took some videos of the flowers and me moving around trying to get a picture. Only I couldn't figure out how to get it back to camera mode. So, I had to come into the house and ask my daughter. And duh, it was a simple scroll thing. Hmm.

Then I went back out to get the picture, emailed it to myself, downloaded it, and voila--here is a picture of my blooming clematis. 

And now, you're looking at the picture wondering why I was so excited that it was blooming because it's just beginning. But when it's in full bloom within the next couple of weeks, I won't be here to share the pics with you. So, imagine this plant in a 4X6 ft eruption.

The other night my girls and I went to see Divergent. My oldest and I had read the books and I think I shared that while we loved the first two books, we pretty much hated the third one. And if you look at Amazon reviews, that's the general consensus.

So, we were wary about getting hooked on the movies because we know how it ends and we don't like the ending. But it's okay, because after seeing the first movie, we're not really interested in seeing the next one.  

I am eating black potato salad. Thank you, Loretta--my daughter's friend and co-worker who sent it home so I could try it. It tastes similar to my dad's potato salad (white potato salad?) but his was crunchier--lots of celery, crisp pickles, and firm potatoes. Next to my dad's, this is the best potato salad that I've had. 

Just for the record, it was Loretta--an African American--who called it black potato salad and said we should try it. At Thanksgiving, she invited KB to her home for a black Thanksgiving. Until then, I didn't know there was a difference. I've not met Loretta yet, but I think we'd get along fabulously. 

It's not often we use the word fabulously. I wonder why. It's kind of a cool word. But when I say it, my head kind of conjures up girls in flapper dresses and men in dapper suits. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I'm sure they were quite fabulous as well.

I am off for three days, work five, and then off for eight glorious days!! Glorious is another word we don't use that often. For glorious, my mind envisions fluffy clouds, rainbows, and sunshine. Spring in the Northwest. And you thought it was just rain--well, there's that, too, but the without rain, we'd have no rainbows.

For the beginning of my staycation, hubby and I are going to the coast for two days to celebrate our 30th anniversary. Lincoln City in April. Glorious. I should get a picture to show how beautiful it is. Hang on.

Now, imagine the wind and beach mist. Yeah, our coast is a bit different from the warmth and sunshine one usually connects with going to the beach. 

But, we still have the roar of the Pacific ocean, the scent of sea air, and the sand between our toes--well, if it were actually warm enough to take off our shoes and go barefoot. But like they say, a day at the beach is better than a day anywhere else. At least I think that.

And now we come to the end of my random musings. To think you're going to miss this mess that is my brain for a month. Sad.

Take care and see you in May.

Wednesday, March 26

So Long!

Okay, not forever..but that's why I called this post So Long rather than Good-bye, because we'll be back blogging and writing and having fun in a few weeks.

We've had a really eventful few weeks here at WordWranglers and as Liz and D'Ann already told you guys, we are taking a little break from regular blogging. We're taking off the month of April and will come back with more posts, guest authors and silliness for your enjoyment. And we may even have some new book covers to show you (I said we've been busy, didn't I?)!

I think one of my least favorite words is 'good-bye'. I don't like the tone that is used most of the time and I don't like the finality of it. To me good-bye is final. It's the last thing you say to someone..I rarely use that word. Except at funerals, which is probably why the word has such a bad tone for me.

Instead of saying good-bye, even if I don't know when I'll see that person again, I use a bunch of other words. See ya/see ya later is a favorite, 'bye, later-gater, toodles. Instead of saying good-bye to my family, I tell them I love them. When I'm talking to RadioMan on the phone I send kissy noises over the line (I do that with bebe, too). When I'm texting or IMing with my besties I sign off with TTYL (talk to ya later).

One of my favorite ways to say good-bye is So Long. Because, when you don't know when you'll see a friend again, it will seem so long!

How do you say good-bye? And is it different according to who you're saying it to?

Tuesday, March 25

Spring Fever!

This has been the longest winter on record across most of the country. It hasn’t been horrible here in Western Colorado, but I still have a terrible case of cabin fever. I love to flower garden. It’s one of my main passions. The ground is still half frozen and I haven’t had a single tulip bloom yet. We lease our acreage to farmers who grow corn. They’ve begun plowing, the scent of fresh turned earth fills the air. The horses are shedding their winter coats and are in that funny molting stage where they look like ragamuffins. I’m dying to get my hubs to throw some shoes on the horses so my daughter and I can ride. I write fairly quickly. Usually. You’d think this past endless winter would have been prime time for writing my latest book. But it seemed to go on like the winter—forever. It dragged and dragged. But I finally did finish the first draft about three days ago. Now, I beging rewriting. I’m anxious to start two new projects calling my name. Like the flowers and the horses, I’m dying to get to them. We here at Wordwranglers, decided to take a little break through April. We’re going to plant flowers, grow corn, ride horses, maybe start a new manuscript or two! At least I am! We’ll see you back in May!

Sunday, March 23

The way to peacefulness

First off, congratulations and thanks to Laura Strickland for naming the cat in my WIP. Caruso is a big Russian Blue, complete with green eyes and ringed tail (brought to my writerly mind by one of Cheryl Reavis's Cats She Does Not Own--right, they own her!) She’s  a girl, but she has a loud voice, so Caruso is her name!

Also, congratulations and thanks to Kristi Knight, who gave the little dog in the story the name of Wally, short for Walter Mittens (I don’t know his breed or when he’ll enter the story yet, but he does have white feet J).

I will send prizes to Laura and Kristi soon, along with my gratitude, but it won’t be until next week when the boyfriend and I—drumroll please—return to Indiana after a nice winter in Florida. I love Florida, I’m grateful not to have spent the worst winter in recent and not-so-recent history in Indiana, but I’m homesick. It may be cold, wet, and still the color of winter, but it’s home.

It’s been a productive winter. I’ve finished a contracted book, fought with an R & R on another, and have started—oh, squirming with delight as I type this—another one. Not all new stories fly, I admit sheepishly, but they’re all fun. It is only the ¾ of the book that make up its middle that I have trouble with.

It’s also been a strange-health winter. My sciatic pain has grown progressively worse and as my exercise level has decreased, my weight has increased exponentially. Home will mean going back to doctors and requesting proactive treatment and maybe making myself exercise through pain more than I have been doing. It also means eating healthy and well. I haven’t been doing that, and as good as Pensacola restaurants are—and they are!—I have no one to blame but myself. I must once again, paraphrasing what my friend Angeline Larimer said, walk myself to peacefulness.

I wish you all a happy spring. The Wranglers are taking the month of April off, so this will be my last visit with you until May, my favorite month of them all. I’m going to spend these next weeks getting myself back at home with being home, being healthier, and just being happy. As Julian of Norwich said (thank you, Jennifer Crusie and Anne Stuart, for introducing the quote to me), “All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.”

And so may it be with you. D’Ann will be here Tuesday. See you in May!