Are you an e-book lover?
It’s okay to still love paper books more, but, practically speaking, e-books have certain advantages–like being able to download them for FREE. So, maybe, you want to dip your toe in the water, so to speak. What better time to try than when Smashwords is promoting a site-wide, week-long special?
- Bang! You’re Dead Free Screw Senility #1
- In With A Bang! Free Screw Senility #2
- More Bang For Your Buck Free Screw Senility #3
- Big Bang Theory Free Screw Senility #4
As well her sweet short story,
A Hundred Years or More
(use the code REW75) (all ages welcome).
And her popular single title:
ARE WE THERE YET?
is 50% off (use code: REW50).
Hurry, the sale ends March 8.
–“Happy reading, my friends!”
And now …
a snippet from her August romance
COWGIRL, COME HOME:
She walked to the side pasture where Paul put the colt the day before. From a plastic bin, she filled a two-cup measurer with oats and dumped the grain into the trough. Naturally, Skipper had disappeared as soon as she headed in his direction. Typical teenage boy.
She pressed two fingers against her bottom lip and blew hard. The shrill whistle never failed to bring Daz running.
She closed her eyes and listened. A few seconds later, the thunder of hooves made her smile. The horse rounded the corner of the barn like his tail was on fire then slammed on the brakes when he saw her standing an arm’s length from the fence. He tossed his head and did a little turf dance, but the flaring of his nostrils told her he smelled the grain.
“Yummy. Yummy,” she said, keeping her tone light. “No strings. I don’t want to ride you, groom you or give you a shot. Nothing. I just want to smell you. And maybe touch you. May I do that?”
She let him settle into the feed before extending her hand. She moved cautiously. Even with a horse she knew well, she gave an animal space when eating.
“So, how was your day? Mine kinda sucked.” His ear flickered but he didn’t lift his head. “My folks have probably been bled dry by a friend they trusted. I can’t set up shop to make jewelry until I unload a dumpster full of crap. And, oh yeah, my dad is drinking again.”
His eyes came level with hers. If Skipper had been Daz, she would have seen a hint of wisdom that may have given her some insight, or, at the very least, a bit of peace. Instead, she saw the dispassionate query of a stranger, asking, “Why are you telling me this, lady? I don’t even know you. Why should I care about your problems?”
“So, true,” Bailey said out loud, starting to laugh. “That’s it in a nutshell, isn’t it?”
Copyright (c) Debra Salonen 2014