Monday, August 27, 2012

If You Like Haunting Reincarnation Love Stories--Beth Trissel


Award-winning Historical-paranormal romance novel Somewhere My love~
Blurb: Star-crossed lovers have a rare chance to reclaim the love cruelly denied them in the past, but can they grasp this brief window in time before it is too late?
Newly arrived at Foxleigh, the gracious old Wentworth home in Virginia, British born Julia Morrow is excited at the prospect of a summer working as a guide in the stately house and herb garden. She quickly discovers the historic plantation holds far more. She becomes obsessed with the portrait of handsome Cole Wentworth, killed in a quarrel over the lovely English lady, Julia Maury, two hundred years ago. Then she meets his double, William, the only remaining Wentworth heir.
Somehow, Julia must persuade Will that their fates are entwined with those of Cole Wentworth and Julia Maury, and that the man who killed his ancestor has returned to enact the deadly cycle again, or she will lose him twice. The blade is about to fall.

Excerpt From Chapter Three:

Julia stood trembling in the hall illuminated by the light he’d left on at the landing. Her eyes were red and puffy, hair disheveled with bits of grass stuck in the tumble, feet bare and dirty; she must’ve slipped on the wet lawn as she ran to the house because her legs and dress were muddy and grass stained. She clasped sodden tissues in one hand, bedraggled lilies in the other. Pollen from the orange pistols smeared her tear-stained face and her dress.
“Julia, what on earth?”
“Did you give me these?” she gasped.
“Yes. I won’t do it again if it upsets you.”
She flung herself at him. “I’m sorry. I know you have rules—I’m probably breaking one being here now—but I saw him. I saw Cole. He gave me a lily and said to watch out. He’s going to die all over again if I can’t stop it.”
This time Will didn’t hold Julia lightly, but fastened his arms around her. She trembled all over. Holding her more tightly, he clutched her to his bare chest. “Cole can’t die twice. It was a dream. That’s all.”
“No. It was so real, as if I were with him. He picked up the pearl button from my glove and kissed my fingers.”
Will wondered if his damnable cousin had kissed anything else. It was absurd to be jealous of a man dead for two centuries, but he was. Oh, how he was. He fought for control over this fiery emotion and reasoned gently. “Dreams seem real, Julia. And you’re more connected to the past than anyone I’ve ever known.” Unnervingly so, and he had no rational explanation for it.
Trying to think, he pressed his lips to the top of her soft head. “You have a heightened awareness of people and places, a sort of sixth sense. I’m sure that’s all it is.”
She heaved a shuddering breath. “Maybe I’m from the past somehow…with Cole.”
“You’re here right now with me, aren’t you? I gave you the lilies, sweetheart, and I’m telling you not to cry.”
“Did you just call me sweetheart, Will?”
“Did you just call me Will?”
“It’s your name, isn’t it?” she asked in a strangled voice.
“A long time ago, a schoolboy name. I’d say we could both do with a stiff drink. But first, a warm bath. You’re a mess.”
She lifted incredulous eyes. “You’re going to bathe me?”
He wished. “No. Usher you in that direction.”~
***Somewhere my Love is available in print and at a reduced rate in eBook at Amazon KindleThe Wild Rose Press, and  Barnes & Noble.

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Gardening in August--Or Not--Beth Trissel


If, by late August, a gardener is wondering how long it will be until frost arrives and tidies up the robust weeds growing in and among everything, or if she/he is thinking of tacking up a sign to declare the grounds a wild game preserve, then that person has lost the battle. Again. And, as usual, I remind myself to look for the beauty amid the tangle. It is there, in the soft pink anemones, bold zinnias and bright orange tithonia, Mexican sunflower, that towers above the black-eyed susans and rose-colored cleome.

Masses of fall asters bloom in shades of lavender and blue and butterflies flutter all over the place––monarchs, swallowtails, orange skippers, and tiny blue hairstreaks. Hummingbirds are darting, and the moths that resemble them. Goldfinches streak from sunflower to sunflower singing in that euphoric chatter finches have. When I was a child a close friend made the observation that our family hummed happily at meal times. Well, so do birds in their way.

The writing spider (see Charlotte’s Web) has woven stories throughout the garden, intelligible only to her and perhaps the fairies. Blue-green dragonflies hover over the pond, ducks bob, and squeaky frogs plop into the water every time we walk past. At night, the peepers sing from the tall grass in the meadow, and the crickets and katydids. Owls hoot and screech, bats zing through the dusk and nighthawks pirouette. Come to think of it, this is a wild life preserve.~

***This is an excerpt from my nonfiction book, Shenandoah Watercolors, a 2012 Epic eBook finalist. Free in Amazon Kindle from August 19th -- the 23rd.
*Image of our old red barn and abundant sunflowers by daughter Elise
*Our garden with cleome flowers in the foreground taken by Elise
*Butterfly on red Bee Balm taken by Elise

Monday, August 13, 2012

Snippet from NA Romance Through the Fire and eBook Sale


THE FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR, A SHAWNEE WARRIOR, AN ENGLISH LADY, BLOOD VENGEANCE, DEADLY PURSUIT, PRIMAL, POWERFUL, PASSIONATE…THROUGH THE FIRE
The Shawnee Warrior camp at Night
Rebecca stirred restlessly, twitching her head from side to side. “No,” she moaned as though in a troubled sleep.
Shoka knelt beside her and laid a comforting hand on her upper arm. He glanced around as Meshewa appeared. Concern shadowed his cousin’s face, and he held out a pewter flask. Shoka took it with an appreciative nod, knowing how much Meshewa prized his take from the Long Knives. With a long look at her, Meshewa stole away. No one else came near. Even Shoka’s irate brother had wisely allowed him time to brood.
Rebecca tossed again. “Don’t,” she pleaded in a low cry.
Shoka slid his arm under her shoulders and held the flask to her lips. “Drink,” he said, tilting a little brandy into her mouth. Perhaps it would help to settle her and it was all he had at hand. She swallowed, coughing, and swallowed again. He administered several more sips and took a swig of the warming brew himself before recapping the flask.
She lay back more heavily on the blanket then rolled onto her side. “John?” she murmured.
Temptation rose alongside the grinding wrench in Shoka. He stifled his resentment at the unwelcome name and lay down beside her, drawing her into his arms. She nestled against him with a sigh that drove another spasm through his gut.
“I feared so for you,” she whispered sleepily.
“I am here.” Shoka slipped his fingers through her loose hair burnished in the fire’s glow.
“Don’t go, John,” she begged him, as if sensing some reason why he couldn’t stay.
“No, sweetheart,” he said, using the term of endearment so familiar to the English.
“I was never with child,” she confided tremulously.
“Do not weep for this. You soon will be,” Shoka soothed, circling his arms around her inviting softness.
“But you’re so often away. Too long, this time.”
“Shhhh…” Shoka slowly settled his mouth over her drowsy lips. Unlike the vixen he’d battled earlier today, this woman offered no resistance, only melting warmth, yielding all the sweetness he could want, like the first taste of amber honey dripping from a comb.
Whatever else John Elliot was he’d been the most fortunate man on earth. Shoka had never taken such pleasure in a kiss, but gnawing hunger accompanied the satisfaction surging in him. He groaned under his breath. Now, he’d only crave her more.~
Through the Fire  is reduced from 4.99 to .99 at Amazon Kindle and Barnes & Noble’s Nookbook through August 17th.

Saturday, August 11, 2012

“I have never let my schooling interfere with my education.” - Mark Twain and other Witty Quotes



I love a good quote. I hope you enjoy this eclectic collection.
“The difference between fiction and reality? Fiction has to make sense.”
- Tom Clancy (1947-), paraphrasing Mark Twain
“Happiness is good health and a bad memory.”
Ingrid Bergman
“Victory goes to the player who makes the next-to-last mistake.”
- Savielly Grigorievitch TartakowerChessmaster
“A doctor can bury his mistakes but an architect can only advise his clients to plant vines.” - Frank Lloyd Wright
“Wit is educated insolence.” - Aristotle (384-322 B.C.)
“Do, or do not. There is no ‘try’.” - Yoda, The Empire Strikes Back
“Destiny is not a matter of change, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved.” - William Jennings Bryan
“If you want to build a ship, don’t herd people together to collect wood and don’t assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea.”
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
“Never forget that it is the spirit with which you endow your work that makes it useful or futile.”
Adelaide Hasse
“All for one; one for all.”
- Alexander Dumas (1824-1895)
“If you haven’t got anything nice to say about anybody, come sit next to me.”
Alice Roosevelt Longworth
“The problems that exist in the world today cannot be solved by the level of thinking that created them.”
- Albert Einstein
“Its not the size of the dog in the fight, its the size of the fight in the dog.”
- Mark Twain
“A patriot must always be ready to defend his country against his government.”
- Edward Abbey (1927-1989)
“Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake.”
Napoleon Bonaparte
“After I’m dead I’d rather have people ask why I have no monument than why I have one.”
Cato the Elder (234-149 BC, AKA Marcus Porcius Cato)
“When a man is wrapped up in himself he makes a pretty small package.”
John Ruskin
“They couldn’t hit an elephant at this dist–”
General John Sedgwick (1813-1864), last words
“I don’t feel good.”
- Luther Burbank (1849-1926), last words
“Ask her to wait a moment – I am almost done.”
Carl Friedrich Gauss (1777-1855), when informed that his wife was dying
“99 percent of lawyers give the rest a bad name.”
- Unknown
“Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, prepare to die.”
- Klingon Proverb, Star Trek
“The greatest strength is gentleness.”
- Iroquois Proverb
“Never try to teach a pig to sing. It wastes your time and annoys the pig.”
- Proverb
“If you lose your temper, you’ve lost the argument.”
- Proverb
“Better to light a candle than curse the darkness.”
- Chinese Proverb
“I have not failed, I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.”
- Thomas Edison (1874-1931)
“All science is either physics or stamp collecting.”
- Ernest Rutherford (1871-1937)
“The only possible conclusion the social sciences can draw is: some do, some don’t.”
- Ernest Rutherford
“A witty saying proves nothing.”
Voltaire (1694-1778)  *To this I would argue ‘that may be, Voltaire, but it makes life a darn site more entertaining.’
“I would like to be able to admire a man’s opinions as I would his dog – without being expected to take it home with me.”- Frank A. Clark
“As I get older I notice the years less and the seasons more.”
- John Hubbard
***These quotes are from an excellent site: http://www.tk421.net/quotes/
***All royalty free images

Friday, August 10, 2012

'To Be Taken With A Mixture of Pounded Frogs…’ ~Herbal Lore--Beth Trissel



Agrimony:  Used from ancient times to treat many ailments and injuries, it’s also reputed to have magical properties.
The plant is found abundantly throughout England, on hedge-banks and the sides of fields, in dry thickets and on all waste places. In Scotland it is much more local and does not penetrate very far northward. (It also grows in America)
Agrimony has an old reputation as a popular, domestic medicinal herb, being a simple well-known to all country-folk. It belongs to the Rose order of plants, and its slender spikes of yellow flowers, which are in bloom from June to early September, and the singularly beautiful form of its much-cut-into leaves, make it one of the most graceful of our smaller herbs.
The whole plant is deep green and covered with soft hairs, and has a slightly aromatic scent; even the small root is sweet scented, especially in spring. The spikes of flowers emit a most refreshing and spicy odour like that of apricots. The leaves when dry retain most of their fragrant odour, as well as the flowers, and Agrimony was once much sought after as a substitute or addition to tea, adding a peculiar delicacy and aroma to its flavour. Agrimony is one of the plants from the dried leaves of which in some country districts is brewed what is called ‘a spring drink,’ or ‘diet drink,’ a compound made by the infusion of several herbs and drunk in spring time as a purifier of the blood. In France, where herbal teas or tisanes are more employed than here, it is stated that Agrimony tea, for its fragrancy, as well as for its virtues, is often drunk as a beverage at table.
The long flower-spikes of Agrimony have caused the name of ‘Church Steeples’ to be given the plant in some parts of the country. It also bears the title of ‘Cockeburr,’ ‘Sticklewort’ or ‘Stickwort,’ because its seed-vessels cling by the hooked ends of their stiff hairs to any person or animal coming into contact with the plant. It was, Gerard informs us, at one time called Philanthropos, according to some old writers, on account of its beneficent and valuable properties, others saying that the name arose from the circumstance of the seeds clinging to the garments of passers-by, as if desirous of accompanying them, and Gerard inclines to this latter interpretation of the name.
*Image above is from an interesting  site Herbal Simples, about healing herbs.
The whole plant yields a yellow dye: when gathered in September, the colour given is pale, much like that called nankeen; later in the year the dye is of a darker hue and will dye wool of a deep yellow. As it gives a good dye at all times and is a common plant, easily cultivated, it seems to deserve the notice of dyers.
HistoryThe name Agrimony is from Argemone, a word given by the Greeks to plants which were healing to the eyes, the name Eupatoria refers toMithridates Eupator, a king who was a renowned concoctor of herbal remedies. The magic power of Agrimony is mentioned in an old English medical manuscript:
‘If it be leyd under mann’s heed, He shal sleepyn as he were deed; He shal never drede ne wakyn,Till fro under his heed it be takyn.’ (That’s darn useful to know.)
*Image above is from another interesting herbal site called Every Green Herb.
Agrimony was one of the most famous vulnerary herbs. (Vulnerary *is a plant used in the treatment of wounds). The Anglo-Saxons, who called it Garclive, taught that it would heal wounds, snake bites, warts, etc. In the time of Chaucer, when we find its name appearing in the form of Egrimoyne, it was used with Mugwort and vinegar for ‘a bad back’ and ‘alle woundes’: and one of these old writers recommends it to be taken with a mixture of pounded frogs and human blood, as a remedy for all internal hemorrhages.”
*I have to stop right here and comment.  Pounded frogs and human blood mixed with Agrimony for all internal hemorrhages.  Hmmm…it wonders me, as the Pennsylvania Dutch say, whose blood we’re to mix in.  Probably someone else’s.  And what would the proportions of pounded frog be to the herb and blood?  No exact proportions given.  Just a spoonful of this and a cup of that.  I suspect it would take more than a spoonful of sugar to help that medicine go down.
I also like where the author goes on to say that Agrimony “has had a great reputation for curing jaundice and other liver complaints. Gerard believed in its efficacy. He says: ‘A decoction of the leaves is good for them that havenaughty livers.’”  Got that?  It treats naughty livers.
Pliny called it an ‘herb of princely authoritie.’ Dioscorides stated that it was not only ‘a remedy for them that have bad livers,’ but also ‘for such as are bitten with serpents.’ Dr. Hill, who from 1751 to 1771 published several works on Herbal medicine, recommends ‘an infusion of 6 oz. of the crown of the root in a quart of boiling water, sweetened with honey and half a pint drank three times a day,’ as an effectual remedy for jaundice. It gives tone to the system and promotes assimilation of food.”
Again from A Modern Herbal: It formed an ingredient of the famous arquebusade water as prepared against wounds inflicted by an arquebus, or hand-gun, and was mentioned by Philip de Comines, in his account of the battle of Morat in 1476. In France, the eau de arquebusade is still applied for sprains and bruises, being carefully made from many aromatic herbs.
It was at one time included in the London Materia Medica as a vulnerary herb, but modern official medicine does not recognize its virtues, though it is still fully appreciated in herbal practice as a mild astringent and tonic, useful in coughs, diarrhea and relaxed bowels. By pouring a pint of boiling water on a handful of the dried herb – stem, leaves and flowers – an excellent gargle may be made for a relaxed throat, and a teacupful of the same infusion is recommended, taken cold three or four times in the day for looseness in the bowels, also for passive losses of blood. It may be given either in infusion or decoction.
ConstituentsAgrimony contains a particular volatile oil, which may be obtained from the plant by distillation and also a bitter principle. It yields in addition 5 per cent of tannin, so that its use in cottage medicine for gargles and as an astringent applicant to indolent ulcers and wounds is well justified. Owing to this presence of tannin, its use has been recommended in dressing leather.
Agrimony is also considered a very useful agent in skin eruptions and diseases of the blood, pimples, blotches, etc. A strong decoction of the root and leaves, sweetened with honey or sugar, has been taken successfully to cure scrofulous sores, being administered two or three times a day, in doses of a wineglassful, persistently for several months. The same decoction is also often employed in rural districts as an application to ulcers.
Preparation: In North America, it is said to be used in fevers with great success, by the Indians and Canadians.
In former days, it was sometimes given as a vermifuge, (*serving to expel worms and other parasites from the intestinal tract) though that use is obsolete.
In the Middle Ages, it was said to have magic powers, if laid under a man’s head inducing heavy sleep till removed, but no narcotic properties are ascribed to it.
Green (Universal Herbal, 1832) tells us that ‘its root appears to possess the properties of Peruvian bark in a very considerable degree, without manifesting any of its inconvenient qualities, and if taken in pretty large doses, either in decoction or powder, seldom fails to cure the ague.’
Culpepper (1652) recommends it, in addition to the uses already enumerated, for gout, ‘either used outwardly in an oil or ointment, or inwardly, in an electuary or syrup, or concreted juice.’ He praises its use externally, stating how sores may be cured ‘by bathing and fomenting them with a decoction of this plant,’ and that it heals ‘all inward wounds, bruises, hurts and other distempers.’ He continues: ‘The decoction of the herb, made with wine and drunk, is good against the biting and stinging of serpents . . . it also helpeth the colic, cleanseth the breath and relieves the cough. A draught of the decoction taken warm before the fit first relieves and in time removes the tertian and quartian ague.’ It ‘draweth forth thorns, splinters of wood, or any such thing in the flesh. It helpeth to strengthen members that are out of joint.’”
From Herb Magic.com: “AGRIMONY is an herb that is said to turn back jinxes that have already been made, roots that have already been laid, and curses that have already been cast. Combined with Slippery Elm Bark, it is said to break spells involving Slander and Lies…combined with Rue, it is said to send back the Evil Eye (Mal Occhio) even after the Eye has already taken effect. Combined with Salt, it is said to un-make Hexes and Witchcraft.”  They add, “We make no claims for AGRIMONY, and sell it as a Curio only.”
*I make no claims either and am only quoting from and commenting on what I’ve researched.
This is a terrific site: The Medieval Gardener:
Regarding Agrimony it says: “This perennial with its tall yellow spires (to 24 inches) is a native European plant often found growing wild in the Middle Ages. Recorded in the inventories of Charlemagne’s gardens (but not in the Capitulare de Villis ) and the Anglo Saxon dictionary source of Aelfric, it was highly regarded for its general healing and magical powers and was believed by the Anglo Saxons to heal wounds, warts and snake bites. If laid under a pillow, they further believed it had magical powers to induce a deep sleep until removal. Another 14th century reference claims it for the treatment of back problems along with mugwort and vinegar. Agrimony was also used as a strewing herb and, bundled with rue, broom, maidenhair and ground ivy, was used to identify witches. Today we are aware of the tannin content of agrimony and use its lovely apricot scented dried flowers and leaves to make herbal teas as well as astringent infusions, and to attract bees in the garden.” ~ Contributed by B. F. Wedlake
*Image of Agrimony, old Monastic ruins and garden, Pliny, old herbals, Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Herbal Recipes for Making Old Fashioned Toilet Water

I like to feel connected to those who have gone before me. Herbs have changed very little, if at all, over the centuries. When I hold an aromatic sprig of rosemary in my hand, I am touching the same plant beloved by the ancients. Some heirloom roses go back to the glory days of Rome.

To further that sense of oneness, and for their many uses, I grow a variety of herbs. Thyme, basil, sage, and chives are a few in my kitchen garden. Lavender and scented geraniums are wonderful for their scent alone. Ladies used to waft the delicate perfume of toilet water. 

Below, I have given some recipes that were once popular. These come from a little book entitled Potpourri, by Ann Tucker Fettner.

Basic Toilet Water: To three pints of pure alcohol add one and one-quarter ounces of lavender oil, three-quarters ounce of oil of bergamont, three-quarters ounce of tincture of ambergris. Mix together and bottle.
Rose Water: Boil two quarts of distilled water and remove from the stove. Add one-eighth ounce of rose oil, four drops of clove oil, and one pint of alcohol. Let this stand for several days before bottling.
Geranium Water: To two pints of pure alcohol add four ounces of rose water, five drops tincture of musk, one ounce tincture of orris root and one ounce of geranium oil. Allow to age.

Monday, August 6, 2012

New Excerpt from Historical Romance Novel Through the Fire--Beth Trissel


This excerpt from Chapter 13 gives a clear example of the fast-paced adventure romance that is Through the Fire.
White-hot knives of pain stabbed Rebecca’s side. Pushing on, she raced after the black stallion carrying Kate and Tessa to the trees she’d left behind mere hours before. If she made it into the woods at the same place they’d entered, she should be able to find the camp. But what of Shoka?
Tormented by his perilous state, she whirled around toward the turmoil behind her. Grayish white smoke from gunpowder and the burning fort clouded the bodies scattered over the field like rag dolls. Praying Shoka didn’t lie among the fallen, she squinted against the stinging air to seek him in the jumble of men. Tortured seconds passed as she stood, her eyes searching. If she didn’t spot him in a moment she’d run back and—there! She saw him and the tomahawk slashing at his head.
Her heart lurched into her throat as he dodged the lethal blow and sliced his blade across the attacking warrior’s arm leaving a scarlet streak.
A swift kick hurled his howling opponent back. His tomahawk upraised, Shoka rushed at a second brave, fighting his way to her. Musket fire blasted right behind her. She didn’t dare stay where she was. Catawba warriors were firing to shield their retreat toward the trees on the other side of the meadow.
Frontiersmen loosed a volley of shots and ran back to cover behind the flaming fort where the women and children had already fled. She hoped they were safely reunited, but her prayers were fixed on Shoka. She spun around to run and collided with a Catawba brave tearing past her. She reeled into the waves of men.
They shoved her out of their way, and she staggered, crying out as her bruised body hit the ground. She sagged on the grass, too winded to move. Scores of moccasins flew past just inches away from her head.
“Shoka’s woman. You have no pistol now.”
It was a voice she’d hoped never to hear again, dripping with scorn. She looked up in dread. Tonkawa stared down at her. Slitted eyes glinted in his green and black painted face, his powerful body silhouetted against the smoky sky. The silver brooch in his scalp-lock braid gleamed in the single ray of sunlight piercing the haze. Here was a demon sprung from hell.~
***Through the Fire is currently reduced from 4.99 to .99 at Amazon Kindle and Barnes & Noble’s Nookbook
***Royalty free images

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Three Native American Historical Romances For.99!


“The storyline of Through the Fire is well-written and uncommonly descriptive. Ms. Trissel took great time and effort to research Indian beliefs and their way of life. Anyone who buys this book will take great pleasure in it.” ~You Gotta Read by Laura
“Through the Fire is full of interesting characters, beautifully described scenery, and vivid action sequences. It is a must read for any fan of historical romance.” ~Long and Short Reviews by Poinsettia
2008 Golden Heart® Finalist

Blurb for Through the Fire:
At the height of the French and Indian War, a young English widow ventures into the colonial frontier in search of a fresh start. She never expects to find it in the arms of the half-Shawnee, half-French warrior who makes her his prisoner in the raging battle to possess a continent––or to be aided by a mysterious white wolf and a holy man.~

***On sale for .99 in Kindle and Nookbook through August 17th.


Blurb for The Bearwalker's Daughter:
Timid by nature—or so she thinks—Karin McNeal hasn’t grasped who she really is or her fierce birthright. A tragic secret from the past haunts the young Scots-Irish woman longing to learn more of her mother's death and the mysterious father no one will name. The elusive voices she hears in the wind hint at the dramatic changes soon to unfold in the mist-shrouded Alleghenies in Autumn, 1784.
Jack McCray, the wounded stranger who staggers through the door on the eve of her twentieth birthday and anniversary of her mother's death, holds the key to unlock the past. Will Karin let this handsome frontiersman lead her to the truth and into his arms, or seek the shelter of her fiercely possessive kinsmen? Is it only her imagination or does someone, or something, wait beyond the brooding ridges—for her?
(A revised version of Daughter of the Wind)
"Ms. Trissel's alluring style of writing invites the reader into a world of fantasy and makes it so believable it is spellbinding." -Long and Short Reviews
"I loved the plot of this story, oh, and the setting was wonderful."
-Mistress Bella Reviews
"I found this book fascinating." -Bitten By Books
***On sale in Kindle for .99.
Blurb for The Lady and the Warrior:
An abused young wife stranded in the Alleghenies in 1783 is rescued from drowning by a rugged frontiersman who shows her kindness and passion. But is he more than he seems? And can they ever be together?
About The Lady and the Warrior:  A short historical romance story with a The Last of the Mohican's flavor to give readers a taste of my full-length American historical romance novels.  If you like The Lady and the Warrior, chances are you will enjoy Red Bird's Song and Through the Fire.  Both have a strong Native American theme interwoven with the plot.
***Available at Amazon Kindle for .99 each.