Caryn Orlane has law enforcement in her blood; her father was a cop, and his father, too. She’s a federal agent in northwest Montana, protecting the old forests and keeping the peace.
Levi Bradshaw also believes in protecting the forests, but has a very different MO. He’s the leader of a group of eco-warriors, determined to save the trees of the Bitterroot by legal—and illegal—means.
When they meet in the woods at gunpoint, their encounter ignites a spark of interest, despite operating on opposite sides of the law. When their worlds turn on them, they only grow closer. If they don’t work together, can either survive?
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Publisher (The Wild Rose Press)
Excerpt:
“Thanks for the flowers,” she whispered. “Very thoughtful.”
“Are you sure?” He still looked a little stunned at her outburst.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” She forced a smile. “Thank you. Where were you all?”
He walked to the edge of the porch. “We took a long walk along the perimeter. I felt a little stronger this morning, and I especially didn’t want the dogs to wake you.” He turned back to study her. “You needed the rest.”
She nodded. “I suppose. Although it looks like I’ll have plenty of time for that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sam called.” She wrestled with strong feelings that threatened to bring the tears again.
“News about the militia?”
His prompting didn’t help. “No. I’m officially suspended.”
He studied her face. “Because he saw us together last night.”
She nodded. “So I’ve got plenty of down time.”
His jaw tightened, pulling his mouth into a frown. “I’m sorry, Caryn. That’s my fau—”
Boiling frustration brought her to her feet. “No. No more ‘fault’ stuff. This isn’t your fault and it isn’t my fault, but by God it’s someone’s fault, and we’ve got to find out who!”
“We will,” he assured her.
His eyes were warm, and his arms were inviting, but she couldn’t find comfort there, not yet.
That’s what got you in trouble, Caryn Lyn.
She blinked, a cold chill running through her, even in the bright morning sunshine. Where had her father’s voice come from?
He might not have openly condemned her, but she didn’t need much imagination to visualize his blue eyes, pale with disappointment, his lips set tight against each other, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. She’d taken the career she’d fought so hard for and tossed it away on a chance at this relationship.
Let’s meet Alana:
NA: What sort of research did you do to write this book?
AL: I had studied up on ecotage for my elf series (The Clan Elves of the Bitterroot, written as Lyndi Alexander), and it is such an interesting concept that I didn’t want to leave it just yet. People are passionate about the old forests, and whether they camp in a tree to protect it, spike the trees or go for more dangerous measures, it’s admirable to see them standing up for what they believe in.
NA: What is the main thing you want readers to take away from your book?
AL: That choices have consequences—when you break the law, you have to pay for it. But sometimes, it’s just what you have to do.
NA: A fun fact about writing your book.
AL: I’d lived in Missoula, Montana many years ago, and I took my friend Kellie and my youngest daughter out there to gather intel for this story. We took a ski lift up to the top of Big Mountain—at the bottom of the hill it was 70 degrees, and we wore sandals and shorts. At the top there was snow on the ground!!
NA: Do you have a day job? What was your job before you started writing full time?
AL: I was a journalist for six years, then a family law attorney for 30 years before retiring. Now I can write full time, and enjoy reaching out to other authors and readers.
NA: What do your friends and family think about your being a writer?
AL: I think they keep wondering why I don’t have a “real” job. 😉
NA: The biggest surprise you had after becoming a writer
AL: What? You mean I don’t become a millionaire the first week my book is out??
NA: Do you outline books ahead of time or are you more of a by-the-seat-of-your-pants writer?
AL: I’m a combination writer—I start out fairly loose, seat of the pantsish, until I get a solid beginning. Then I move on to map out a few chapters ahead at a time, until I hit the halfway mark, where I go ahead and lay out the plan through the end, to avoid plot bunnies.
NA: What has been one of your most rewarding experiences as an author?
AL: I love LOVE meeting readers at book signings. As a reader myself, it’s great to be able to chat about what we love.
NA: Which kind of scenes are the hardest for you to write? Action, dialogue, sex?
AL: I’m not a big fan of sex, sex, sex in romance books, tending to lean more to plot and suspense. So yes, I’d say writing action is easier for me than sex scenes. I do include physical affection, etc., and some teasers—but I let a lot go on behind closed doors.
NA: First thought when the alarm goes off in the in the morning?
AL: Crap.
No, really. Crap. LOL
NA: What errand/chore do you despise the most?
AL: Emptying the cat box. But since I love kitties, it’s a necessary evil.
NA: What famous person would you like to have dinner with?
AL: Robin Williams
NA: What are you working on now?
AL: A science fiction romance, ménage a trois story with a gender-shifting alien, and a high school reunion story about a mommyblogger made good coming home to her roots—and her ex boyfriend who dumped her at prom.
NA: Anything I’d like to add?
AL: I really appreciate all the readers out there—what we do, we do for you!
Author Bio:
Alana Lorens has been a published writer for more than forty years. Currently a resident of Asheville, North Carolina, she loves her time in the smoky Blue Ridge mountains. One of her novellas, THAT GIRL’S THE ONE I LOVE, is set in the city of Asheville during the old Bele Chere festival. She lives with her daughter, who is the youngest of her seven children, two crotchety old cats, and five kittens of various ages.
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Emma Ames is an alter-ego of Amazon bestselling author, Ann Everett, who is an alter-ego of a real person. All three live in Texas.
Liese Sherwood-Fabre knew she was destined to write when she got an A+ in the second grade for her story about Dick, Jane, and Sally’s ruined picnic. After obtaining her PhD from Indiana University, she joined the federal government and had the opportunity to work and live internationally for more than fifteen years. After returning to the states, she seriously pursued her writing career.
Excerpt
How Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named.
However, my reason for wanting to celebrate the Salvation Army is that my mom often told me that when she was small, she probably never would have had a doll if not for the one she received at Christmas from her local Salvation Army. My grandmother worked two jobs—hard jobs, like scrubbing the floors on her hands and knees in the local school and factory work—and still found time to sew all of the clothes for twin girls she was raising alone. There was no money for things little girls longed for, like dolls. In that way, the Salvation Army fed my mom’s heart and soul, if not her tummy. I salute the work they do now, during the fight against Covid-19, and every day.
Your Desire. A mysterious shop appears in town for one reason: to bring the spice of passion and the thrill of love to one special person. Magic is in more than the item purchased—it’s in the heart of the buyer, often hidden, usually surprising. And after enchantment takes hold ad the fantasy is fulfilled? The store fades from sight and memory, only to reappear somewhere else. Maybe in your town…?
Lorelei Confer lives on a peninsula in the mid-west coast of Florida with her high school sweetheart, now husband, and AJ, her longhaired Chihuahua.
I suppose if you knew that I’d been a long-distance trucker it wouldn’t surprise you to know that I’d rather drive then fly whenever I can. Flying used to be fun—back when there were fewer travelers, when I was in college and could still dash from one gate to another, and when a size 10 still fit the seats. Need I say that none of those things work for me anymore?
to be relaxed in the west of the U.S. than in the crowded east, but even there I just like having some control over my life with my hands on the wheel. I try not to let people push me. I find a comfortable speed and hang in there. If someone wants to go faster, there’s usually a way to pass. Mores the pity, though, because I’m watching the signs, wondering where the people in all the cars are going, and who lives in that pretty blue house on the right side of the road. Life is good. Oh yeah, and I might spend a passing moment following the contrails of a jet overhead.
