Archive for the ‘romance’ Category

EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT #2 BOXCAR CHRISTMAS by Lindsay McKenna

December 11, 2017

CHAPTER 1—continued
BOXCAR CHRISTMAS
Exclusive excerpt 2
12.11.17

Jesse opened the door, feeling guilty about trespassing. It creaked as she pushed it open. Stepping inside, she shut the door and turned, peering around the gloomy interior of the caboose because the sun still hadn’t risen above the carpet of evergreens on the slope above where it sat. She spotted a propane gas stove, a table with two simple, carved wooden chairs nearby, and a bed at the other end of it. In the middle of the car was a kitchen sink and opposite the sink was a long leather couch. To her delight, there was also a rocking chair and an overstuffed leather chair that probably housed a lot of field mice, the stuffing looking like popcorn along the thin, separating seams of leather. The couch was long enough to sleep on and was a possibility because the mattress on that bed looked very old and needed to be replaced. But she considered it a far better upgrade to her tent.

It was dusty and dirty, mouse pellets scattered here and there along the dulled oak floor. Some parts of the oriental carpet had been eaten into, probably by mice who took those fibers to make a warm nest somewhere else in the car. Walking to the other end of the caboose, she saw that the bedroom was roomy with a full-sized bed in it. A few blankets that were probably once folded at the bottom were now open and spread haphazardly across bed. Some of the drawers were partially opened, and appeared to be empty and in dire need of some deep cleaning.

This caboose could become a good place to protect her from the coming winter, and she could buy a tank of propane to keep the boxcar warm instead of freezing to death from hypothermia in her tent. Not wanting to think about her downfall during the last year she had been in the Army when all her hopes and dreams were smashed and shattered, Jesse walked toward the center of the caboose and studied the ivory colored Formica counter that surrounded the double aluminum sink. This was a place that could be cared for once again. Brought back to life. Seeing herself in the same condition as this boxcar made her want to stay here and use it as a place to begin to heal from her recent past. The last year of her enlistment in the Army had turned into a nightmare, because she’d been out of control, unable to fit in and be ‘normal’ in order to perform her duties.

She mentally calculated her weekly salary and compared it to what a tank of propane gas would cost, plus having to buy food, and needing a source of water in order to survive. The numbers churned in her head. Maybe some blankets and a pillow would be a nice addition as well. She’d seen a Goodwill store in Hamilton that would be the perfect place to pick up used bedding. Her parents had wanted to give her money to survive on until she could get a good job and manage her life once more, but she’d refused it. They had worked hard for their savings and Jesse didn’t want to steal from their nest egg meant for retirement. Maybe she could call them in a couple of weeks if she could keep this new job and ask for a loan. And then she would pay it back or else. Jesse had never taken a handout in her life. She’d always worked hard for everything she’d earned, just like her parents had.

The morning light filtered in through the windows of the caboose, illuminating the interior. She could see the electric lights along both walls, sconces that still had a hurricane lamp in each of them–dirty but still looking usable. There were no electric lines out here and she looked around for a generator outside somewhere, but saw nothing. At another time, there must have been one because the sconces would only work if there had been a generator present. Besides, even if there had been one, she couldn’t afford to pay for the gasoline needed to run it. And she didn’t have any wheels. She had to walk everywhere, no matter what the weather did around her. Still, she felt a trickle of hope because the oak tongue-and-groove ceiling looked solid–there were no leaks along it to indicate water had gotten inside, and that was good news.

Stepping carefully to the meadow-facing side of the car, she grazed one of the windows with her fingertips. They were in dire need of a good cleaning and the insulation around the frames needed to be replaced so heat wouldn’t leak out and make the car drafty. The tatty old red and yellow Oriental rug beneath her boots was smudged with dirt and hadn’t been swept for a long, long time. She looked around and spotted a long, vertical door near the kitchen table. Going over to it, she opened one side panel of the door. To her delight, there was not only an ancient looking broom, but dust clothes hanging off hooks, a mop, two small aluminum buckets and several usable sponges. Everything she’d need to clean up this place.

She treaded lightly, her Army boots heavy and clunky, the floor creaking here and there. Jesse closed the closet door, turned and simply absorbed this small, comfy looking place. It could truly become a temporary home for her. Her eyes adjusted to the low dawn light, and she realized this was more than a fishing and hunting cabin. The small kitchen table against the wall was still covered with a dusty red and white checkered tablecloth. A pair of cut glass salt and pepper shakers stood in the middle of it. On a shelf above the kitchen sink, she saw dust-laden, brightly colored Fiesta dishes. To her right, were more shelves that held a set of bowls, a couple of aluminum pans and some cookbooks. Jesse liked the feeling in this caboose. It truly had been someone’s home once. The person probably lived here full time, her intuition told her. Maybe years earlier it had been a warm, cozy house, but now, it had been abandoned for some unknown reason, no longer loved and cared for. She wondered who had made this caboose his or her home. She liked the small bathroom next to the bedroom. There was a shower stall in there as well as a Formica counter with an aluminum bowl in it.

The caboose was forty feet long and ten feet wide: four-hundred square feet of living space. It felt like a warm nest to Jesse and she couldn’t explain why this beaten down train car suddenly meant so much to her. She managed a strangled laugh because symbolically and physically, she was beaten down, too. The inside of her looked like the inside of this car. But even in disrepair, the caboose showed the potential of what it could become if a little care and love was bestowed upon it. Was the same true of her? Could that be her outcome as well?

The right thing to do was to walk back into Hamilton, locate the county Recorder’s office and find out who owned the caboose on this property. She needed to know because she wasn’t going to just move in without permission. Even though this train car was in disrepair, it was owned by someone. Maybe, if she could find the owner, she could ask them to allow her to live in it, hoping that the rent wouldn’t be very much and that she could afford it. Jesse adamantly refused to become a squatter. In her world of morals and values, one didn’t just take over a house of any kind without permission and without paying some sort of rent. She already felt guilty enough that she’d entered the place without permission. The door wasn’t locked, but that wasn’t an excuse to trespass. That wasn’t like her, but she was invisibly driven to explore the inside of it.

She turned and she left the caboose, shut the door and carefully made her way down to the concrete slab where it sat. She picked up her heavy pack and unstrapped her tent—there was a lot to do today. This was her off day from work and it would take thirty minutes to walk through the woods to the south end of Hamilton. Hope threaded through her, feeling grateful that she’d miraculously stumbled upon this place. She placed her rolled up tent on the metal and wood platform of the caboose. If she couldn’t find the owner, she would pitch her tent just inside the evergreen tree line for protection from the elements and stay in it, instead. Jesse took out her phone, a gift from her parents, she located the GPS for the caboose. That information would be instrumental in locating the owner. Hitching the heavy knapsack that carried everything she owned in it, Jesse gave the red caboose a wistful farewell look and then turned away, heading into the woods to walk back into Hamilton. Glancing at her watch, she realized that she would have to locate the county seat office and wait until they opened up at nine a.m. END OF INSTALLMENT #2!

Stay tuned for next Monday’s installment #3 BOXCAR CHRISTMAS on 12.18.17!!

Have you missed the 1st Exclusive Excerpt?
Go here: https://wp.me/pBmdA-Dpt

If you missed Lindsay’s Blog on the “Story behind the story” of BOXCAR CHRISTMAS?
Go here: https://wp.me/pBmdA-Dpp

Happy Holidays!

http://www.lindsaymckenna.com

PRE-ORDER: BOXCAR CHRISTMAS on all platforms except for Google
paperback and ebook and audio!

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CHRISTMAS CONTEST #2 from Lindsay McKenna!

December 10, 2017

Dec 10-15, 2017

PRIZE:
Audio tape of a Lindsay McKenna Christmas novella!
SNOWFLAKE’S GIFT

Contest open to readers worldwide.
December 10 – December 15, 2017
STORY:
Two veterans—one human, one canine—have returned to Montana to recover from the traumas of war. Former Army Ranger Nick Conway depended on his WMD dog Snowflake to help him navigate IEDs on the battlefield. Now he needs his best friend to help him cope with his PTSD and acclimate to civilian life. When he meets Holly McGuire and agrees to help her deliver meals to the needy, her inner light calls to him, but his demons hold him back from giving in to his attraction. But Snowflake takes an immediate shine to the kindhearted Holly—and Nick knows his trusty companion has never led him down the wrong path!

Winner will be announced on December 016, 2017 on the Lindsay McKenna Facebook page. If you aren’t subscribed to me on this page, you will NOT miss being the winner because I’ll be emailing you as well!

Just click on this link, sign up, and a winner will be randomly chosen after the close of the contest!

http://lindsaymckenna.com/contest/

CONGRATULATIONS for signing up! Good luck!
and, Happy Holidays!

Wrangler’s Challenge by Lindsay McKenna — exclusive excerpt!

October 23, 2017

Hi Readers!
On Halloween, Wrangler’s Challenge is released! As a gift to you, Chapter 1 excerpt to get you in the mood! I hope you enjoy it.

Healing, like love, takes time . . .
For Noah Mabry, it’s easier sometimes to relate to the dogs and horses he trains than to other people. Ever since his marriage became a casualty of the war in Afghanistan—torn apart by the PTSD he brought back with him—he prefers to be on his own. At the Bar C Ranch, where he works with a crew of fellow military vets, his gentle patience helps tame even the rowdiest mustang—but he’s about to meet a woman who needs a healing touch he’s not sure he can give.

Dair Wilson, a half-Comanche ex-Marine who lost a foot to an IED, has been hired on to assist Noah, but her deepest wounds aren’t visible. Growing up in an abusive home, she learned not to trust men, even ones who seem nothing but kind. After a wild horse sends her sprawling, the attentive care she receives from the Bar C family—and especially from Noah—is enough to convince her she’s found a place she can finally breathe easy. But one angry, damaged man poses a threat not only to Dair and Noah, but to everyone who’s built a new home at the Bar C . . .

LINKS:

Amazon

Kobo
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/wrangler-s-challenge

iBooks/iTunes
https://linkmaker.itunes.apple.com/en-us/details/1203066954?country=us&mediaType=books&term=Wrangler%27s+Challenge

BN.com
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wranglers-challenge-lindsay-mckenna/1125683978

EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT from Wrangler’s Challenge by Lindsay McKenna
Wind River Valley series, Book 4

CHAPTER 1

A bad feeling snaked through Army Sergeant Dair Wilson. The late October Afghan night chilled her to the bone. Wind cut against her face where it was exposed. Zeus, her Belgian Malinois combat dog, strained at the leash she had double wrapped in her gloved fist. Without NVGs on, night vision goggles, she wouldn’t see where the hell she was putting her booted feet as her dog plunged ahead.

Behind her, eleven men of her Army Special Forces A-team, were strung out with plenty of room in between them. It was ass-freezing cold, and she thinned her full lips, sensing Zeus as he sniffed ahead of her. They were on a rocky, icy slope above a valley where the Taliban were trying to take over an Afghan village. The CIA had picked up chatter that a Taliban HVA, high value target, was going to be meeting local soldiers and confer with them on assault strategy to take over the village.

Over my dead body. She and her A-team lived in that village two thousand feet below them. Dair knew the chief and his wife, and the two hundred villagers there. They were simple farmers who had no guns or weapons to defend themselves. This A-team had taken up residence three years earlier and stopped the incursions from the bloodthirsty Taliban, who were now making a late autumn attack on the village before the snows fell hard and deep, stopping all such warfare.

Her boots slipped on the icy rocks. She mentally cursed. Zeus had his head down, his sides moving in and out like a bellows as he inhaled and exhaled the many scents. A path led up the six-thousand-foot slope filled with nothing but rocks and a few scraggly bushes hanging on, barely existing in this harsh environment.

They all knew that the Taliban would bury IEDs along the trail to kill the goats and young goat herders from the village below. Goats meant survival. Their skin and fur was used for warmth, their milk for the children, and their meat for food. The Taliban knew goats were the only survival, other than agricultural endeavors, for the people of this village. And they were trying to decimate the goat herds to force the village into starvation this coming winter. It would, from a strategy standpoint, make it easier for the Taliban to attack next spring and find little resistance among the starved populace.

Not on her watch. Their A-team was beloved by the unarmed Afghan farmers and their grateful families. They had lived for years in that village and become part of the everyday fabric of it. Her captain, Davis Ackerman, had brought a well-digging outfit from a global charity named Delos, and now the village had a clean water supply. Children stopped dying as a result.

The whole team had helped build a huge irrigation pattern in the agricultural fields where many types of vegetables were now being grown. The military team worked alongside the Afghan men every day with shovels, hoes, and pickaxes.

And tonight, they were going after the head of the snake. Dair was their specialist with a WMD dog. Zeus was intrinsic to their team because every morning, Dair went out around the walled village, and her dog sniffed and often found IEDs planted overnight by the Taliban, who had sneaked close beneath the cover of darkness. Zeus had saved countless lives and she fiercely loved her six-year-old Belgian Malinois.

The wind was erratic. A cold front was coming through. Dair worried about such times. If the wind blew away from Zeus’s sensitive IED-trained nose, he would not pick up the scent of the deadly explosive buried just beneath the ground. If the wind blew toward his nose, he would pick up the scent.

She felt her spinal column crawling with danger. Dair thought it was because they were going to try and capture the HVT on the other side of this ridge at a small mud and stone house that Taliban often used as a stopover and meeting place.

She’d like nothing better than to get this bastard who was responsible for the repeated attacks on the Afghan village. No one wanted him more than she and Zeus did. The villagers knew the team was armed, and as they watched them troop out beyond the huge wooden gates, shutting them behind them at dusk, they knew something deadly was up. Dair had seen the worry in many of the men’s eyes. They relied on their A-team for medical services, for extra food, clothing, and shoes for their children given by U.S. charities. They did not want the team being killed by the Taliban. Dair had seen it written silently in their expressions.

She wore a level three Kevlar vest, the weight of the ceramic plates making her breathing harder as they continued the steep climb toward the ridge line. It weighed thirty extra pounds upon her frame. Her M-4 carbine was hanging across her chest. Her drop holster with a .45 pistol was strapped to her right thigh.

Her friends, the rest the A-team, moved like silent ghosts behind her. They trusted that Zeus would find any IEDs buried on the only path up this slope, before one of them stepped on it.

She loved her black-faced, fawn-colored dog. They were a tight team. Zeus slept with her in her small mud-and-rock hut. He kept her warm in the winter with his seventy-five-pound body curled tightly next to hers. He was a guard dog and would send up a warning growl when Taliban were lurking outside the seven-foot, mud-and-rock wall that kept the village safe. Often, she and some of the other sergeants would get up, armed, and with their NVGs on, let Zeus lead them to where he heard the enemy outside the wall.

Over time, the Taliban lost too many soldiers skulking around, looking for a way to infiltrate the village at night. They knew there was a WMD dog within the walls. And, after losing twenty-five soldiers at night to the sharp-eared dog, they stopped coming.

This was her fourth deployment with her team. They were all like big, doting brothers to her. And she was like a little sister to all of them. Dair earned her position on the black ops team because she was very good at what she did. She was five foot, ten inches tall, and at a distance, most people thought she was a man. Until they got closer and saw her half-Comanche face, the black braids she always wore, and her cinnamon-brown eyes. Then they were surprised, because the villagers hadn’t seen many women soldiers before. She was an anomaly in their world.

The wind slapped at her back, and Dair slowed Zeus. The scent would be gone and he wouldn’t find it. The dog halted, the leash taut between his collar and her gloved hand. Her mic was resting against her lips. “Take five. Wind is the wrong direction.”

“Copy that,” Davis said.

Dair knew the team would be glad for the momentary rest. They were all carrying at least fifty pounds of gear and ammo on them. They knew what it meant when the wind was cooperating, at the right angle for Zeus to properly scent the area. Because of the dog, they’d gone four years as a team without any IED injuries. Dair wanted to keep it that way.

She keyed her hearing, the edges of her ears freezing and numb. The tip of her nose was also numb. It was below freezing on this miserable slope. The sky was thick with clouds, promising snow at some point. She hated the white stuff because IEDs became even more troublesome to locate. Watching Zeus through her NVGs, the dog’s ears were up and he was panting heavily, his ribs bowing in and out.

The wind shifted again, this time coming directly at Dair. She gave Zeus the unspoken order to start sniffing again. Instantly, the dog lunged against the leash, nose just above the surface, moving it from side to side, trying to pick up the scent of a buried IED.

Dair’s whole focus, her whole world, relied on her brave dog. They were the point of the spear. If Zeus found an IED, he’d instantly sit down, a signal that one was nearby. Then, Dair would have to halt the column and the two explosives-trained sergeants from their team would come up and locate it and defuse it. Then, they’d move forward once more. Her mouth was dry and she pulled the tube to her CamelBak, sucking deeply. Staying hydrated was important. Soon, she’d have to stop and give Zeus water as well.

The wind shifted, slapping her on the right side of her face. Dropping the tube that was held in her shoulder epaulet, Dair tugged on the leash to stop Zeus. The wind was taking away the scents he needed to pick up.

Suddenly, there was a flash of red and yellow light. Dair heard Zeus yelp. Burning heat swept across her as she was flung off her feet, tumbling through the night air. A thousand impressions assailed her as she felt her arms windmilling and she cartwheeled end over end. The sound of the explosion broke both her eardrums. Simultaneously, a sharp pain assailed her left foot and ankle. And then, she lost consciousness.

RELEASE DAY!!! Christmas with my Cowboy by Diana Palmer, Lindsay McKenna and Margaret Way

September 26, 2017

EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT from Kassie’s Cowboy by Lindsay McKenna–look below!!!

From the snowy, wind-whipped prairie to the remote Australian Outback, a cowboy’s loving kiss makes this Christmas merry and bright . . .
 


“The Snow Man” by Diana Palmer
Meadow Dawson needs Santa to deliver a solution to her management of the Colorado ranch she’s inherited. Cattleman Dal Blake just wants his pretty neighbor’s dog to quit digging under his fence. This Christmas, the unexpected gift of love will surprise them both.
 
“Kassie’s Cowboy” by Lindsay McKenna
A brutal blue norther is battering Wyoming just in time for Christmas when solitary former Marine Travis Grant finds his childhood sweetheart, Kassie Murphy, injured in her car just beyond the ranch where he works. For Travis and Kassie, this snowy silent night will be one last chance to put the painful past behind them—and treat the wounds only love can heal.
 
“Her Outback Husband” by Margaret Way
Scott and Darcey MacArthur were the perfect couple, devoted to their life together on the family cattle ranch. With one blistering rumor, it ended in heartbreak—but Scott’s mother has a scheme that will reunite them in the Outback for a holiday that will prove it’s the season for forgiveness.

REVIEW BN.com
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/blog/romance-roundup-cowboys-writers-tons-christmas-romances/
Christmas With My Cowboy, by Lindsay McKenna, Diana Palmer, and Margaret Way

Three MORE stories in one, and these feature SEXY COWBOYS! In McKenna’s “Kassie’s Cowboy,” (Gah! Already getting so excited!) former Marine Travis Grant finds his childhood sweetheart, Kassie Murphy. She’s just been in a car accident, so Travis feels the need to care for her. Oh, and all of the love feelings are 100 percent intact, so it’s going to be a very cozy Christmas! In Palmer’s “The Snow Man,” Meadow Dawson needs some help managing her Colorado ranch. She soon meets a super-duper hunky cattleman by the name of Dal Blake. He’s not too thrilled that Meadow’s dog keeps digging under his fence, but he’s not one to abandon a lady in need. (Dude, the puppy’s digging is totally a sign that you and Meadow belong together!) And in Way’s “Her Outback Husband,” Scott and Darcey MacArthur are reunited after a painful rumor drove them apart. Can they make amends in time for the holidays—and before those long winter nights really start to kick in? (Available in paperback, audiobook, and NOOK on September 26.)

EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT from Kassie’s Cowboy by Lindsay McKenna

Kassie’s Cowboy by Lindsay McKenna

Christmas with my Cowboy anthology

Chapter 1

December 8
A blizzard was coming. A bad one. A blue norther and a five-dayer, as Wyoming ranchers referred to the deadly weather front.
Travis Grant fed his two horses, made sure all the windows were shut and the area as warm as it could be. His two geldings had thick winter coats and would weather this blizzard, no problem, in his two story, one-hundred-year-old barn. They were well fed and completely protected from the harsh, brutal elements to come. He’d also placed a heavy canvas well-padded horse blanket on each of them every night. Wyoming winters got way below zero.

It was barely dawn, a lighter gray ribbon along the clogged, cloudy western horizon. Pulling his sheepskin coat collar up a little tighter around his exposed neck, Travis heard the howling of the wind slamming against the western barn wall like invisible fists pummeling the aged wooden surface. Gale-force winds would precede this blue norther, and more than likely three to six feet of snow would be dumped on the Wind River Valley as it passed through like a slow-moving freight train.
Travis lived near the center of the Wind River Valley, about six miles away from where Maud and Steve Whitcomb had their hundred-thousand-acre Wind River Ranch where he worked four months out of the year as a wrangler.

His cowboy boots echoed and thunked hollowly along the old oak planking. He slid the door shut to the horse barn and went into his furniture-making studio, which was right next to it. In there, since returning home from the Marine Corps and too many deployments to Afghanistan, he’d found a way to make money and deal with his PTSD instead of committing suicide, like so many of his vet friends already had.

Turning on the overhead lights, his gaze moved through the thousand-foot rectangular room. It held his projects, all handmade furniture for clients who had ordered specific pieces from him.

Walking across the oak floor that shined dully beneath the fluorescent lights, he trailed his fingers across a reddish-colored mahogany top of a four-drawer dresser that was closest to where he stood. It was nearly finished, the deep crimson gleam of the wood beautiful beneath his hand and the patient waxing he’d done on it all day yesterday. It was a beautiful hardwood from South and Central America.

In creating furniture he’d found solace, maybe even a tiny corner of peace, by working alone in here from dawn to dusk, his anxiety tamped down, which was a godsend. Hard physical work like wrangling or creating furniture kept his PTSD anxiety volume turned down to a dull roar. He could use his woodworking tools, his hands, his chisels and sanding paper, to create beauty even though anxiety lived inside him like an angry, stalking monster 24/7/365.

He meandered through the clean room, a bit of satisfaction flowing through him. The scent of the different types of wood, the organic beeswax polish he used, made him breathe a little deeper. It was like a tack room in a barn, in one sense; the fragrance of leather saddles, bridles, martingales, the neatsfoot oil and saddle soap applied to all of them from time to time always calmed him, too.

In one corner he had a black potbellied that radiated enough heat to keep the studio toasty warm. Having just made the fire for the coming day’s work, Travis walked over, opened the latch, and placed a couple more pieces of wood he’d chopped a week ago into it. Shutting it, he went to a small kitchenette where he made his coffee. Recently, he’d installed a small fridge with comfort foods such as cheese, milk, fruits, and veggies he liked to nosh on. The steel double sink was a place to wash his hands and the few dishes he dirtied daily.

For the next five to seven days, as this blizzard roared through northwestern Wyoming, Route 89, a north-south two-lane highway, would be closed. Wyoming simply did not have enough snowplows to quickly clear the one-hundred-mile stretch of Wind River Valley. It would take days to open it back up after the snow rapidly accumulated, so truck and civilian traffic could flow freely back and forth once more.

The studio was warming up. He checked the progress on each of his six projects. Thanks to Steve Whitcomb, owner of the Wind River Ranch, his career as a furniture maker had suddenly and unexpectedly taken off. Steve was a world-class architect, and he’d invited Architecture magazine to send out a reporter to do a story on him and his master carpentry craftsmanship last year. He’d had three pieces of furniture under way at that time, trying to make a living between being a wrangler on their ranch during the summer months and creating beautiful furniture the other eight months of winter. That one article catapulted him from being a nobody to a somebody in the world of high-class handmade furniture.

He was forever indebted to Steve for his support. He and his rancher wife, Maud, had already ordered and bought two pieces from him. The money was more than good and he’d been able to buy this small farm that sat along Route 89. It only had five acres, a fifteen-hundred-square-foot single-story turn-of-the-century cabin on it, a two-story barn, corrals, and a huge garden area. For him, it meant safety, solace, and finding the peace that eluded him since getting PTSD.
Seeing the flash of headlights through his double-paned window, he scowled. Who the hell was out at this time of morning and driving in the imminent deadly weather conditions? The beams had turned in a full circle on Route 89. That meant someone had hit black ice and was spinning out of control.

Damn.

He pulled his black Stetson down a little tighter on his head, hauled on his thick elk skin gloves to protect his hands from the plummeting temperature, and quickly headed out of the barn. The wind was hard, battering against his body as he ran to the garage. He hit the door opener and waited impatiently to get to his huge Dodge Ram three-quarter-ton pickup inside. His dirt road was muddy and iced, as well. He backed the truck out, a sense of urgency filling him.

Probably some stupid tourist or a person who didn’t really understand Wyoming blizzard weather, he thought as he drove slowly through the ice-covered mud ruts. They’d already gotten two feet of snow a week ago, and the plows had just finished pushing it off the sides of the highway into high white banks. There was no way he could speed down his quarter-mile driveway or he’d spin out, too. Mouth tightening, Travis saw that the car, a bright red one, had spun out and was now tipped on its side in the huge ditch next to the entrance gate of his property.

Travis parked behind the gate and climbed out, seeing steam rising from beneath the bent hood. He couldn’t see who was in the vehicle because all the air bags had deployed, and there was no movement. That bothered Travis. The windshield wipers on the car were still, indicating the car’s engine was off. All he could see as he slipped and slid down the short slope of mud and snow were the layers of deployed air bags. His mind automatically began to tick off potential medical issues. As a trained recon Marine, Travis was more than knowledgeable about medical emergency situations, what to do and how to handle them.

The wind, sharp and cold, tore at him, his ears unprotected, tingly and burning as they began to freeze in the dropping temperature. Was the person in this car injured?
As he reached the car door, he could only see the outline of a person beneath the limp air bags. Eyes narrowing, he knocked on the window, but there was no movement. He called out. No answer. The driver could be unconscious. Double damn.

Travis didn’t need this complication with a blue norther blizzard bearing down on the area shortly. There was no way an ambulance would try to make it out here from the small hospital in Wind River, twenty miles away. The first responders knew better than to drive after the road had been shut down by the sheriff’s department, according to his weather radio, an hour ago. This car and driver were probably the last to make it onto Route 89 before they closed the gates. No Wyoming person would ever go out in this kind of killing weather.

He yanked open the door. It grudgingly gave way.

“Hey,” Travis called, pushing the air bag out of the way. “Are you all right?”
His heart crashed in his chest.

There, lying unconscious, slumped in her seat belt, was Kassie Murphy!

His mind blanked out briefly as he froze, as so many images from their past–talks, kissing her, then leaving her–slammed through him. Travis shook himself out of his state, reaching in after yanking off a glove, two fingers pressed gently against the side of her slender neck, searching for a pulse. Her black hair, thick and luxurious, had swirled around her shoulders, covering part of her face. Worse, as he felt for a pulse against her carotid artery, he saw just how pale she’d become. And then, as he swiftly perused her for other injury, he saw a thin trail of blood leaking out from beneath her hairline along her left temple.
Kass! No! No, this can’t be happening!

Travis felt as if his whole, carefully structured world had just shattered. The woman he loved was unconscious. Injured.

http://www.lindsaymckenna.com

Available in paperback and ebook at your favorite platform!

RELEASE DAY! TRAPPED by Lindsay McKenna!

July 18, 2017

RELEASE DAY!
THREE exclusive excerpts! CONTEST!

Trapped by Lindsay McKenna
Book7, Delos Series
7.17.17
ebook and paperback!

Ali Montero was stuck with a SEAL who hated her on sight. She had a job to do in his team whether he liked it or not. She was trapped.

SPECIAL!! 3 exclusive excerpt from the book from 3 great bloggers!

Harlequin Junkie Blog and exclusive excerpt on Trapped by Lindsay McKenna
Giveaway!
http://harlequinjunkie.com/spotlight-giveaway-trapped-by-lindsay-mckenna/

and

Delilah Devlin’s Blog – another exclusive excerpt and opening to the book!
http://www.delilahdevlin.com/blog/

And

USA Today Happily Ever Blog – a 3rd excerpt!
Exclusive excerpt: ‘Trapped’ by Lindsay McKenna

THE STORY:
Aliyana Montero will do anything to rescue her sister from the ruthless kidnappers who took her from outside the school where she works. Even if that means accepting help from Ram Torres, the most infuriating—and sexy—man Ali has ever met. She and Ram first met on a mission in Afghanistan and they clashed instantly. Ram accused her of being hotheaded and impulsive. She thought he was cold and arrogant. Both refused to acknowledge the heat that flared between them. Now, as her sister’s life hangs in the balance, Ali will have to swallow her pride and once again work with the man who has secretly haunted her dreams.

SPECIAL CONTEST: Win a paperback copy of TRAPPED by Lindsay McKenna
Contest open to readers worldwide.
July 17 – July 21, 2017
Winner will be announced on July 22, 2017 on the Lindsay McKenna Facebook page.  If you aren’t subscribed to me on this page, you will NOT miss being the winner because I’ll be emailing you as well! 
Just click on this link, sign up, and a winner will be randomly chosen after the close of the contest! Good luck!!
Welcome to my contest page! I will be hosting giveaways monthly—plus on all the major holidays! Check back often. 

http://lindsaymckenna.com/contest/

LINKS:

KOBO.com
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/trapped-131

BN.com
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/trapped-lindsay-mckenna/1126323626?ean=2940157541019

iBooks/Apple
https://linkmaker.itunes.apple.com/en-us/details/1232470113?country=us&mediaType=books&term=Trapped+by+Lindsay+McKenna

EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT of TRAPPED by Lindsay McKenna!

July 15, 2017

EXCLUSIVE USA TODAY BLOG, Happily Ever After EXCERPT on TRAPPED by Lindsay McKenna! Don’t miss it!

Exclusive excerpt: ‘Trapped’ by Lindsay McKenna

http://www.lindsaymckenna.com

DREAM OF ME by Lindsay McKenna CONTEST!! EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT!!!

May 20, 2017

Hi Readers! It’s almost release day for Dream of Me by Lindsay McKenna!!!

DREAM OF ME, 4B1, is a Delos series novella and Sequel to BROKEN DREAMS, Book 4. Alexa Culver is the fraternal twin to her older brother, Matt. She was an Air Force A-10 combat pilot for three tours in Afghanistan. On her last deployment she met shy but sincere Marine Corps Sergeant Gage Hunter, who is a sniper. He too, is based at Bagram Army base outside of Kabul. They are a most unlikely couple to fall in love, but perhaps it is their different world experience that is the glue that binds them.

They have worked through Alexa being captured along with many other charity women at a village, and having to be rescued by Gage and US Navy SEALs. This is a follow-up novella on where they stand with one another now that they are out of military. Alexa works at Artemis Security and so does Gage. Each has different wounds that aren’t entirely healed. Especially in Alexa, who had been kidnapped to become a sex slave to a millionaire in Pakistan. Gage is a hero in her eyes like no other man. He has the patience and love of her to deal with her sometimes awkward moments when PTSD flashbacks of her captivity hits her.

Alexa loves Gage fiercely and knows she still has issues to work through, grateful that he stands by her. When she goes to Paris, France, to attend a Human Rights conference, no one expects what is about to happen. Alexa’s family, part Greek, Turkish and American, has made powerful, rich enemies. Their world is suddenly upended once again. And Gage isn’t sure they can mend the bridges once again between them after this latest attack on Alexa. Can their love survive?

EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT from Dream of Me by Lindsay McKenna

Valdrin Rasari took one last look in the mirror of the Fontainebleau Hotel, only blocks from the famed Eiffel Tower. Tonight he was going to kidnap one of the Culver family’s grown children: Alexa Culver. He smiled coldly into the full-length gold framed mirror. His mouth curved even more at the irony that he, one of the major sex traffickers in the world, would be a wolf in sheep’s clothing at this conference on sex slavery. He could easily travel the world in disguise with forged passports. Right now, fifty countries had him on their no-fly list. Only third world countries were open to him buying the best children from parents who were starving. “Sell me your child, and you will live to put food on the table for a year for the rest of your family. It’s a good trade.”

This evening at the cocktail party in the huge chandelier ballroom downstairs, no one would recognize him. At six feet tall, muscular without being muscle-bound, he would carry a cane, under the guise of Dr. Analius Revig from the University of Oslo. His injury was from a “skiing accident” in his twenties, of course. Today, his short black hair was dyed gray, and his square-jawed face now sported a sporty gray mustache. His brown eyes had blue contacts over them, covered further by a pair of fashionable wire-rim glasses. After all, he was pretending to be a sixty-five-year-old man . . .

Since his alter ego was a professor, he dressed in a fashionable brown wool sport coat and black wool trousers. Under the elegant coat, he wore a white cotton shirt that had been ironed to perfection; it gave him a professorial look. He wore a black bow tie that was in keeping with the look he desired.

He was looking forward to prowling the huge gathering, eavesdropping, and seeing who was there. Valdrin took great enjoyment in being undercover. He spoke six different languages, Norwegian being one of them. Placing his old leather wallet into his coat pocket and his passport in an inner pocket, he adopted the proper slump and slight lean to the right, his cane in his left hand. Fortunately, he had one of those nondescript faces that no one would ever recognize. In fact, he had destroyed any photos of himself for the last thirty of his forty-five years on this earth. No one really knew who the monstrous Rasari was or what he looked like, even while he was on every country’s radar.

He left his bodyguards behind, a door between the sumptuous rooms. They were handlers from the compound who also looked nondescript, nothing like the usual hulking guards. He smiled, ruffling his hair so it looked like an older person’s hair. Perfecting his slump to the right and engaging a proper limp, he walked around the huge suite until he felt comfortable with his disguise. His target? None other than Alexa Culver who was attending. The pleasure of revenge filled him. By the end of the night she would be lured into his suite, drugged, and then become his personal sex slave. And then her loving family would suffer equally as much, never knowing what happened, where she was and that she would never return home.

CONTEST! Starts May 20 through May 27th! Go here to sign up. Good luck!
http://lindsaymckenna.com/contest/

LINKS:
iTunes/iBooks
https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/dream-of-me/id1182534227?ls=1&mt=11

kobo.com
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/dream-of-me-9

Amazon

BN.com
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dream-of-me-lindsay-mckenna/1125625883?ean=294015738282

HAVE YOU PICKED UP MY LATEST WIND RIVER VALLEY SERIES BOOK? WIND RIVER COWBOY!

An unexpected reunion . . .

Kira Duval was part of a Special Forces team that got caught in an ambush—leaving only two wounded survivors: herself and Weapons Sergeant Garret Fleming. Losing her team was traumatic, and in the chaotic aftermath, as the Army moved them from hospital to hospital, she lost Garret too. But she never lost her secret yearning for him.

Finally, she gave up trying to track him down back in the States. But as she settles in at the Bar C cattle ranch in Wyoming, a place where veterans can find a home and a place to heal, she’s introduced to her sandy-haired, hazel-eyed housemate: none other than Garret Fleming.

They’re a long way from Afghanistan—and a long way from the people they used to be before tragedy changed their lives. But as Kira earns her keep by caregiving for the ranch owner’s bedridden, alcoholic father—a task that sometimes feels more challenging than any black ops mission—she finds that even in peacetime Garret still has her back, and that in this warm, welcoming place, the passion she resisted in the heat of battle may finally have a chance to flouish.

CONTEST with Lindsay McKenna!!

May 8, 2017

Today, I have a fun surprise that I’d like to share with you.

I’ve teamed up with 60 fantastic romantic suspense authors to give away a huge collection of novels to 2 lucky winners, PLUS a Kindle Fire to the Grand Prize winner! 

You can win my novel DREAM OF ME, plus books from authors like Lorielie James and Sharon Hamilton.

Enter the giveaway by clicking here: bit.ly/rom-suspense-may17

Good luck, and enjoy!
Lindsay McKenna
http://www.lindsaymckenna.com 

2 EXCERPTS! NEVER ENOUGH by Lindsay McKenna

March 8, 2017

Hi Readers!!

Check out Harlequin Junkie’s Blog today, 3.817!

There are TWO other excerpts (#3 and #4) that you don’t want to miss!

Sergeant Matt Culver, Delta Force, wants to get his fiancee away from war torn Afghanistan, hoping for down time in Hawaii, getting away from it all. But will life cooperate with him and Dr. Dara McKinley or not?

http://harlequinjunkie.com/spotlight-giveaway-never-enough-by-lindsay-mckenna/

LINKS:
Amazon

BN.Com
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/never-enough-lindsay-mckenna/1125267528?ean=2940156794225

Kobo.com
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/never-enough-24

iBooks/Apple
https://linkmaker.itunes.apple.com/en-us/details/1182197449?country=us&mediaType=books&term=Never+Enough+by+Lindsay+McKenna

AUDIO: https://tantor.com/author/lindsay-mckenna.html
Coming shortly….be on the look out for it!

MARCH NEWSLETTER HAS ARRIVED!!! Lots of exclusive information, Excerpt #1, and more!!
http://newsletter.lindsaymckenna.com/

COMING 3.28.17!
Wind River Cowboy, Book 3, Kensington
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/31757

NEVER ENOUGH by Lindsay McKenna RELEASE DAY!!

March 1, 2017

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Finally, the sequel to FORGED IN FIRE, Book 3 of the Delos series that stars Matt Culver, Delta Force operator and Dr. Dara McKinley, a pediatrician, is here!

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BACKSTORY:
NEVER ENOUGH, 3B1, is a Delos series novella and sequel to Forged in Fire, Book 3. Being Indie, it’s fun to write the “big book” and then follow it with a “Well? What happened to Matt and Dara next?” and answer my readers burning question. I don’t know a reader that doesn’t appreciate a follow-up novella or sequel. When I’ve formed a bond with the main characters and have sympathy for them, I want to know what happened after reading the book.

Sergeant Matt Culver, Delta Force, has fallen in love with Dr. Dara McKinley, a pediatrician who was visiting Kabul, Afghanistan to do charity work for children. They fall in love, but this country is dangerous to anyone who is an American. After a harrowing escape at a village in mid-Winter, Matt must keep Dara alive.

I had fallen in love with Dara McKinley because she was thrown into a violent, life-and-death environment and had no clue as to how to survive it. Except that the man she was falling in love with, Sergeant Matt Culver, would become her guide, teacher and protector.

Sometimes courage comes in moments of shock, trauma and extreme conditions. Dara is a pediatrician, finishing up her residency, and getting ready to put a clinic for the poor near Alexandria, Virginia, near Washington, D.C. But all her dreams explode when her vehicle is attacked, leaving her in the harsh winter of Afghanistan, chased by Taliban.

Matt Culver is a survivor and is saddled with a woman who has never been under such duress. He’s fallen in love with her. The challenges are enormous, not only brutal winter conditions in the mountains, trying to keep her safe and knowing odds of living through this, are next to nothing. Somehow, they survive.

Dara needs some down time to recouperate from her trauma. Matt wants to make her dreams come true, and takes her to visit Hawaii. NEVER ENOUGH picks up at this point in their relationship.

There are a couple of stops for you today, that will give you an EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT from their story, a contest and my March 1st newsletter! A 3-fer 😉 ENJOY!

FIRST!
Exclusive excerpt

http://newsletter.lindsaymckenna.com/exclusive-excerpt-never-enough/

SECOND — A CONTEST
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Contest for March 1-7, 2017

http://lindsaymckenna.com/contest/

I will be hosting giveaways monthly—plus on all the major holidays! Check back often. USA only.

March 1 – March 07, 2017

(Winner announced March 08, 2017)

Winner will be announced on the Lindsay McKenna Facebook page. If you aren’t subscribed to me at this page, you’ll miss being the winner! Be sure to sign up!

Here’s what you might win:
• An autographed copy of Never Enough
• Delos Series tote bag


Go to my CONTEST PAGE. Then, just click on this link and it will take you to Rafflecopter, sign up and a number generator will choose the winner after the close of the contest! Good luck!!

THIRD!
Lindsay’s March 1 newsletter—filled chock full with information on her release of NEVER ENOUGH, and so much more!! Don’t miss this important update if you are a reader!

http://newsletter.lindsaymckenna.com

LINKS:
Amazon

BN.Com
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/never-enough-lindsay-mckenna/1125267528?ean=2940156794225

Kobo.com
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/never-enough-24

iBooks/Apple
https://linkmaker.itunes.apple.com/en-us/details/1182197449?country=us&mediaType=books&term=Never+Enough+by+Lindsay+McKenna

AUDIO: https://tantor.com/author/lindsay-mckenna.html
Coming shortly….be on the look out for it!

COMING MARCH 28, 2017!
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/LindsayMckenna

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wind-river-cowboy-comp-copy

JOIN ME!
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