Happy Independence Day Weekend! Celebrating the New Release of Her Highland Hero!!!

I was surprised when I was a Girl Scout Troop Leader and my troop didn't know the meaning of the 4th of July. So we did a study unit on what it was all about.

Then years later when my son was in college, taking a first year American history class, the teacher was mentioning Independence Day and one girl raised her hand and said, "Cool that it happened on a holiday."

This was foooor real. Really. Truly. Real.

I would have felt sorry for her had I been there, except that it's really sad. Really. Seriously. What are we teaching our kids anyway?

Okay, so it's also really, really funny. Too.

Hey, I don't need to make up stories. It's all just...out there.

Back to writing! What? You think I'm off to celebrate??
I am, when I write. :)


Oh, and take pictures. This is a baby bunny. Isn't he adorable? And a dragonfly on a pyracantha that was blowing hard in the wind, and the dragonfly was flapping his wings like crazy, so I was surprised to see such a clear picture of him. And then 2nd one shows: Look who's coming to dinner! Yep, a 2nd one! 

 And the new release!!!

Lady Isobel is a Norman laird's daughter, living near the Scots border where her father, Lord Pembroke, is trying to keep the peace. But her mother was a Highlander and the man Isobel loves most of all is Laird Marcus McEwan, who has been bringing news of her mother's people for years. But now Isobel's father wishes her wed to an English nobleman, who will carry on his title. Isobel will wed no other man but her heart's desire—and that is one braw Highlander from her mother's homeland.

Laird Marcus McEwan has loved the feisty lass forever. For years, Marcus has tried to convince Lord Pembroke to allow him to wed his daughter. But the Norman lord will not allow it. Then ambushes and murders make it too dangerous for Marcus to reach a peaceful resolution.

Nothing goes as planned and keeping the lass for his own is fraught with danger, as they try to determine who was behind the killings. Isobel and Marcus will do everything in their power to ensure they are together as they have always vowed they would be.

 

I’m still waiting for it to show up on Kobo and Google Play, but it’s now up on B&N!
Barnes and Noble
Amazon
ARe Books
Kobo
Smashwords
Print proof is ready for me to review, but trying to get somewhere on His Wild Highland Lass.
Now that Her Highland Hero is on Amazon, I’ve uploaded it for a narrator for the audiobook format!


Have a lovely weekend!

Terry

“Giving new meaning to the term alpha male where fantasy is reality.”

www.terryspear.com

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Tucked Underneath the Christmas Tree

Each year I celebrate Christmas, I rely less and less on the gift-giving aspect and more on the true meaning and majesty of the holiday. But as a child, I marveled at the presents tucked underneath my parents’ Christmas tree. After Thanksgiving, never before, our town hosted a lovely seasonal parade complete with marching bands, festive floats, prancing horses and a host of other lively participants. Mom or Grandma would go in search of the man selling balloons and purchase me one of the pretty helium-filled toys in the shape of a Christmas character. Bundled in boots, the wool or down-filled coat, scarf and mittens, I’d stand with my mom, dad, grandma, and aunt while watching the parade. Once Santa’s float passed, they’d take me to the place on or near the town’s square where Santa Claus held camp in his holiday house. Granted, I cried a couple years at being placed on his lap, but I always managed to convey a partial list of the toys on my wish list. Santa’s house also had a mail slot where we children could slip our letters to him and never have to worry about them getting lost in the seasonal shuffle. Of course, I’d count down the days until he was poised to make a trip down the chimney.

On Christmas Eve, usually sometime around eight in the evening, my parents would warn they heard sleigh bells in the distance and that it would be wise for me to head off to bed so he wouldn’t pass by our house. I’d enjoy a story read or told by Mom or Dad and then crawl under the covers. Sleep usually eluded me, but when the dreams came they often brought any number of happy images, and I later jotted them in my diary. Twinkling lights and tinsel on the family tree. The plates filled with various kinds of cookies Santa hadn’t sampled. Ice-cold glasses of milk for all. And you all have likely guessed I was up and about before dawn on Christmas day. I’d tiptoe into the living room and admire the stockings hanging from the mantel or dangling from the fireplace-iron stand. Somehow Mom always heard my first footsteps and appeared before I had a chance to shake any of the stockings’ contents to figure out what they contained prior to ripping off the wrapping paper. She’d carry the stockings over to the couch, turn on the Christmas tree lights and start perking the Christmas-morning coffee for Dad and herself. By this time, Dad was stirring and turning on more lights throughout the living room.


Photos from those Christmases past fill the family’s albums and make for wonderful journeys to the past on occasion. I have vivid memories of many of the presents Santa delivered, but my all-time favorite was my first bicycle. A gleaming cherry-red Schwinn with a cute basket between the handlebars and training wheels. My five-year-old heart filled with joy, and I had a hard time waiting until the sun came out to take a couple short turns around the driveway with my new bike. Then it was off to Grandma’s house for more fun, good cheer and Christmas dinner. Such was the wonderment of youth.

As snowflakes fly outside the den window, I wish you all the best and brightest for the holidays and beyond. Share with me your favorite Christmas present, whether or not it fit under the family Christmas tree.

Season’s greetings and steamy readings,

Shawna Moore http://www.grant-moore.com
ROUGHRIDER – Ellora’s Cave
HELLE IN HEELS – Ellora’s Cave

Happy Holiday Traditions

Once upon a time my grandmother, mother and aunt baked multiple batches of assorted Christmas cookies for sharing with friends, relatives and neighbors. Oatmeal raisin. Forgotten cookies. Cherry Winks. Sand tarts. Porcupines. Sugar cookies. Thumbprints. The list continues, but these are a sampling of which dozens were prepared and devoured. Though the variety changed and lessened over the passing years, one baking tradition remained—chocolate-chip cookies were always tucked into festive tins and dwindled rapidly between removal from the ovens and Christmas Eve. More now than ever, I choose to celebrate the real meaning of Christmas while embracing the beauty and natural majesty of the season. Shortly after Thanksgiving I shift into baking mode and prepare those chocolate-chip cookies that bring smiles, raised coffee mugs and good cheer.

Snow has fallen and your senses are stirred at first breath as you step outside. Lampposts and lintels are festooned. Holiday finery decorates doors, windows, shrubs and lawns. Proud pines show off their tinsel and trimmings. You’re strolling along, perhaps singing a favorite Christmas carol and mulling over plans for the season. What Christmas tradition is observed by you and your family?

Blessings and all the best for the holidays and beyond,

Shawna Moore http://www.grant-moore.com/
Myspace – http://www.myspace.com/shawnamooreauthor
Helle’s Myspace – http://www.myspace.com/hellehawthorn