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We’re having a white Christmas/Hanukkah, but I hope wherever you are is toasty and full of treats, friends, and family.

Hot of the virtual presses: Charity and the Preacher, my Christmas story set in 1891, Virtue, Arizona Territory.  Here’s the teaser:

Secrets run deep in the town of Virtue, Arizona Territory.  And Charity Bucknell, second eldest of the Bucknell sisters, has her own horrible secret as well. Instead of risking shame and the torment of being shunned, Charity throws herself into charitable causes, most of which are based in the town’s church. Although no one on the outside can see her secret burden, she knows it’s there, and knowing it, she believes it makes her unmarriageable and beyond redemption.

Pastor Paul Cambridge is given the ministry of Virtue and takes his responsibilities and calling seriously. When he meets his church assistant, Charity, he is instantly taken with her. However, he has secrets of his own. Secrets keeping him from telling the truth about himself, even to the woman he loves.

Charity resists Paul’s attention, though she’d like nothing more than to accept the handsome preacher’s proposal. Every kiss and touch they share brings them closer together, though their inner fears keep them apart. Can Charity and Paul risk telling each other the secrets that shame and control them, or will they admit the truth and build a life together based on honesty and respect?

Note: This book contains the spanking of adult women and one erotic encounter. If these things offend you, please do not buy this book.

There’s an excerpt here. But I’ll share another one with this post.


With sudden realization, Charity knew she’d be happy to take another spanking—a dozen even—if it led to this wonderful feeling like a thousand butterflies in her middle. Without thinking about it, she put her hands on his face while they kissed. She could feel smoothness where he’d recently shaved, warm skin beneath her fingertips, and the solid handsomeness of the planes of his face. Can this go on forever?

Eventually, he broke the kiss, though he continued to cradle the back of her head. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice soft and low.

All she could do was nod. Her mind felt dreamy, her middle full of delicious pleasure. She pulled her hands away from Paul’s face and put them on his shoulders.

“Ready to go home?”

“Will you be walking with me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m ready.”

He handed her hat to her. “Put this on and we shall proceed.”

She did as told. He took her by the hand and they walked around the post office on the corner of Calamine and Main and onto the big thoroughfare, at which point they proceeded east toward the Bucknells’ home. As they made it to Main Street, he dropped her hand. Apparently, he didn’t want anyone to know what shenanigans they’d been up to. It was all right with Charity, she wasn’t sure she wanted anyone to know either. Keeping it secret meant she could break it off without repercussions in the future. For surely she would. Things with her hadn’t changed. She was still tarnished, still unworthy of a man’s love.

They walked in silence, while Charity breathed deeply of the morning air, the fragrance of pine trees mellowing her mind. Birds chirped and called. Didn’t they realize she’d kissed the preacher? Didn’t they know what she knew, that she nearly brimmed with warm feelings and might explode at any moment? Where was their reverence for those minutes, for she surely was in awe.


Charity and the Preacher is available on Amazon and Blushing Books (soon, everywhere else).

Amazon

Blushing Books (for all formats)

Please allow me to share my Christmas wishes with you through this book. I guarantee kisses under the mistletoe, and some surprises along the way.

Happy holidays, and happy reading!

Trish

 

 

Hello, my friends. It’s been a few weeks since we corresponded, and Thanksgiving seemed a perfect time to touch base. I have a story to tell as well.

I don’t know what your plans are for Thanksgiving (my US peeps) or for Black Friday (US and Canadian peeps), but in my home, we’re having a quiet, laid back sort of holiday. Although it’s not a holiday in November up here in Canada, it feels like one. My husband and I are both taking Thursday and Friday off to reach down to our US roots and celebrate with our friends, even the friends who live so far away.

But that’s not all I wanted to say. I promised you a story. This one is a tidbit from my own life, and it’s brief.

thanksgiving romance graphic

Thanksgiving Romance

Living in Los Angeles in the early 90s was a pretty busy time for me. I was working as a technical writer for a very large road building firm (think freeways), and although I wasn’t thrilled with the job, it paid the bills. I had two very young daughters, splitting their time between me and my ex-husband. I missed them.

Thanksgiving approached, and since my ex’s family always threw a humongous Thanksgiving party, including games, a feast, lots of conversation, many children, etc., I knew it would be cruel to keep my daughters away from the fun, so my ex had them for the holiday. As I am a person with virtually zero family, I knew Thanksgiving was going to be a lonely day.

Then I got invited to an “orphan’s Thanksgiving” party. There were going to be many friends there, and it was designed to be a get-together for people like me who had no family to share the special day with. I RSVP’d in the affirmative right away.

Thanksgiving rolled around and I got all dressed up, made up, perfumed and prettied for my night with friends. I got to the party and was greeted warmly by many people I knew. I was a little surprised by how many people were orphans like me, but I felt right at home.

When I saw Ken there, I remembered the frosty-freezy reception I gave him when we’d encountered each other in person for the first time at a Halloween party the month before. I fully expected to give him a cold shoulder on Thanksgiving as well, because he was there with the same girl, and I’ve never been one to flirt with someone who’s “taken.” I would be polite, of course, but distant. That was despite the fact that I found his writing compelling, when I read it on the online bulletin board we both participated in. He was interesting, fascinating even, but off-limits.

Well, the evening started off pleasantly enough, but soon I discovered that Ken’s relationship with the other girl was on the rocks. That he was there with her only because they’d RSVP’d as a couple and didn’t want to back out. They weren’t officially broken up, but it was obvious there was nothing left there but a shell.

He was charming, he was funny, he was incredibly intelligent, and had a forceful personality. He often dominated conversation without being domineering. I was more and more intrigued by him, and many times remembered his writing, where his thoughts about relationships so echoed my own.

We flirted a bit, then more. The other girl glared at me — apparently, she wasn’t quite as finished with the relationship as Ken was. That was not good, as far as I was concerned.

Eventually, toward the end of the evening, it was blatantly obvious that Ken and I were on the track to something interesting. I was still very cognizant of the other girl, and didn’t let things progress past a casual flirtation.

Then he asked me out. I was so torn. I so wanted to share some one-on-one time with this incredible man, but also aware that we had many friends in common, and I’d be a “homewrecker” if I appeared to be the cause of his finally breaking up with the girl who remained interested in him. So…reluctantly, painfully, I said no to his invitation.

I did offer a caveat, though. I told him that I’d go out with him one month after he’d broken up officially and finally with the woman he’d been dating. One month. I didn’t want to start going out with him only days after he’d ceased the relationship because I could be considered a cause of the break up. I wasn’t the cause, and I didn’t want that reputation.

He agreed.

By mid-December, everyone knew that his relationship with “M” was terminated. He and she were still friends, but not dating anymore. Ken is the kind of guy who keeps those friendships — we orphans are loathe to leave people behind once we’ve formed a bond. So they were on good terms, but both free to date others. She took up with another guy pretty quickly, but Ken waited. We chatted online a few times, we talked to each other on the phone, we took the time to get to know each other without dating.

When a month rolled around, I was in Washington DC at President Clinton’s inauguration, where I’d been invited to attend a big inaugural ball. (Not an opportunity anyone should ever pass up, no matter what party you voted for.) So, even though we’d reached “the day”, we couldn’t spend it together.

I came home and within 24 hours, was greeted at my door by Ken, bearing chocolates and flowers and a great big smile.

I have never looked back from that day. We got married about two years later.

Thanksgiving is special to me because it began a romance I know will carry me through all the ups and downs of my life. It’s been almost 21 years and I’m hoping for at least 21 years more.

Happy Thanksgiving! May your day be as beautiful a memory as mine.

Trish

 
 

Graphic copyright Serghei Starus, 123rf.
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