WeWriWa: Brothers at Arms . . .The Men of Pride County

Another publisher . . . another pen name. As another industry crash sent authors scrambling for new homes, as Lady Luck, bless her heart, would have it, I bumped into a former assistant editor during a publishing party in New York while at a conference and while catching up, discovered she was at a different house and was now an acquiring editor at Avon looking for authors. Her first advice to me, “Get an agent and have her come talk to me. I’d love to work with you again.” No sweeter words had this author ever heard! For an historical author, Avon was gold standard and I hoped I’d struck it rich with a new name, Rosalyn West. Especially when after two books, I was asked to do a series. I wanted to stick to the West (great PR tie in with my new pseudonym slug line: “Go West for Romantic Adventure!”) where my previous books were set, but they wanted to take a new direction in an underdeveloped part of the county, to those middle states where wounds were healing after a devastating war. And “The Men of Pride County” came to life, where characters were laced between all four books as they recovered their own places in a home still divided by the past. Book One: The Outcast set the stage . . .

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Preview Book

Tears didn’t come, though his anguish crested. He guessed he was all cried out by the end of the second year of war because after that, he’d stopped feeling things . . . after Jonah. He thought coming back to the Glade would wake those dormant emotions, the tender one that had no place on the battlefield, but he was as empty inside as the cabin behind him, no life or love left in either of them.

He was wrong about that he realized the second he glanced up from his mother’s grave.

Patrice stood, still and startled. With the aura of the sun framing her in hazy gossamer, for a moment, he doubted his vision, then slowly, one by one, the blossoms she held clutched to her bosom began to fall.

And a whole flood of sensation surged through him, a tidal wave of emotion, the rip and ebb of them tearing his control to pieces.

He’d imagined their meeting so many times, it was etched upon his heart and mind, but when confronted with the reality, each tiny discrepancy caused a confusing shock to his senses.

She’d aged.

(. . . and a bit more . . .)

His memories were so sure, so strong; that picture of her clinging with a prideful disdain to Jonah’s arm as he rode off to join the Federal army. She’d been furious with him, hadn’t even said goodbye. There were so many pleasant slices of the past he could have held to, but that was the moment he remembered right down to the detailing on her frothy blue day dress . . . because he feared he would never see her again.

Or that the next time he did, she’d be another man’s wife.

He’d been wrong on both counts.

He’d seen her again at Jonah’s burial.

       

All four books are still available in Kindle format, with Book One a $1.99 introduction!

At the same time I was writing for Avon, an author friend was developing her own independent publishing company, one of the very first to break away from New York. ImaJinn Books stepped in to fill that empty void for lovers and writers of paranormal romance and she asked me to become one of her launch authors . . . More on that next week!

We’re rather cold-, ice-, and snow-bound this weekend going into Valentine's Day (9-degrees up to a whooping 19!) and had to postpone a get-together with the family. Good thing we’re stocked up with snacks for the Super Bowl and Olympic Games! Shawn White . . . sigh. My hero for four Olympics. And now I have Nathan Chen to take over for him since this was Shawn’s last ride. Who are you rooting for if you’re watching?

Wishing you Hearts, Roses and Chocolate!

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