Super Review and Recommended Read for A Warrior for Christmas

“A Warrior for Christmas took me by complete surprise. I expected the usual tale of a former Indian captive transcending his past to live the life of a gentleman, but Beth Trissel’s exquisite writing skill made me love this story. In just 53 pages, she created a warm and exiting backdrop and brought to the lovely scenery characters that made the story come alive. Ms. Trissel will make the reader truly wonder if everything is going to work out well between Dimity and Corwin because she created internal and external conflict that could persuade Corwin to return to the wilderness he loves. I really liked the way Ms. Trissel handled the problem of a deaf character communicating with other characters in the story in convincing ways. No reader of historical romance will want to miss A Warrior for Christmas, even if it isn’t Christmas.”~

For the Full Review Visit: Two Lips Reviews 

If You Love the Country and Even If You Don't

Written in a month by month journal style, my award-winning nonfiction book, Shenandoah Watercolors, follows a year in my life on our farm in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia.

Excerpt from May:

“The quality of mercy is not strained,

It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven,

Upon the place beneath; it is twice blessed;

It blesseth him that gives and him that takes…”

~William Shakespeare

The heavy rain has given way to a misting drizzle, but streams of water pour down from the hills and make new ponds and creeks. It’s chilly with that raw wet feel. This spring is awash in moisture and amazing after last summer’s searing drought. I’m struck by the intense beauty around me, and I thought I was already seeing it, but it’s so much more somehow. The grass seems to shimmer, yet there’s no sun out today, and the meadow is so richly green it’s like seeing heaven.

Our barnyard geese are enraptured, as much as geese can be, with all the grass. If there’s a lovelier place to revel in spring than the Shenandoah Valley and the mountains, I don’t know it. Narnia, maybe.

I’ve been thinking about my favorite places. The pool I like best lies in the woods near a place called Rip Rap Hollow in the Blue Ridge Mountains. A splendid falls cascades up above, but I like the pool far more. We always meant to go back, but never have. The cold water ripped through me like liquid ice and is as clear as melted crystal.

I could see the rocks on the bottom, some slick with moss, others brown-gold in the light where the sun broke through the leafy canopy overhead. Trout hid beneath big rounded stones or ones that formed a cleft, but the men tickled them out to flash over the flat rocks strewn across the bottom like a path. Drifts of hay-scented fern rose around the edges of the pool, warming the air with the fragrance of new-mown hay, and made the shady places a rich green.

Now, that’s a good place to go in my mind when I’m troubled. The problem with cities is that people don’t learn what really matters. Don’t really feel or know the rhythms of the earth. When we are separated from that vital center place, we grow lost. Sadly, most people will never know what they are lost from, or where they can be found.~

Only .99 in kindle at Amazon, Shenandoah Watercolors is also out in print with lovely photographs taken by my talented family.

"This is perhaps the most beautifully written memoir I've ever read. Its lovely and languid descriptions of the picturesque valley, the farm and gardens are equaled only by the charming and funny descriptions of the antics (and conversations!) of the farm animals. What a joy this is to read..." Amazon Reviewer C. G. King

New Excerpt from Light Paranormal Romance Somewhere My Love

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.~

Excerpt:

A wildly irrational hope pulsed inside Julia. She bit her lip, hoping Will wouldn’t think her balmy. “Is it possible we’ve met before?”

The spark of life in his eyes faded. “I don’t see how.”

Yet, like a distant melody growing stronger, she instinctively knew his voice…him. “I’m not familiar to you at all?”

“How could you be, Miss Morrow?”

That name sounded alien on his lips. “It’s Julia.”

His face tightened in an almost imperceptible wince. “I’d prefer we retained formal working titles. At least until we’re better acquainted.”

Disappointment washed through her. “Then you really don’t remember me?”

He ran long fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you, somehow,” she persisted.

An inner struggle flickered in his eyes. Wariness won out and he set his jaw. “The mind sometimes plays tricks on us, especially when mixed with an active imagination.”

“It’s more than that…rather like waking from a sleep when you cannot clearly recall the dream, only feel it.”

For a moment, he seemed pensive, then that sardonic look returned to his eyes. His gaze narrowed. “You’re dreaming, all right. I expect you’ve joined the throng of women in love with the dashing Cole Wentworth.”

Julia felt a blush burning her cheeks. She couldn’t deny that possibility. The name alone ripped through her.

“Is this a problem with your working here?” he asked.

Mustering what dignity she had left, she drew herself up. “I’m fully capable of conducting myself with propriety, Mr. Wentworth. I’m British, for God’s sake.”

He frowned at her. “The Brits don’t have a monopoly on self-control. But I’ll allow you the benefit of the doubt in this instance.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Very good of you, I’m sure. I’ll endeavor not to put you out again.”

He made an impatient noise under his breath. “I’ve been all through this before, Miss Morrow.”

“Making allowances for Brits?”

“No. Admirers of my legendary cousin, superb horseman, exquisite artist, gallant nobleman struck down in his prime. Despite our similarities, I am not Cole Wentworth. There’s one glaring difference between us.”

“He’s more charming?” she suggested.

William shot her a sarcastic smile. “He’s dead. Do try to bear that in mind.”~

**If you’d like the opportunity to win the eBook of Somewhere My Love jump down to my Spook-A-Licious Blog Hop Tour post and leave me a comment.

***Somewhere My Love is available in print and or eBook formats from online booksellers large and small at a reduced price.