Showing posts with label into the land of shadows. Show all posts
Showing posts with label into the land of shadows. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 2, 2021

Into The Land Of Shadows has been updated

 


By Kristy McCaffrey

I'm pleased to share that my standalone historical western novel, INTO THE LAND OF SHADOWS, has received a makeover and is now available wide. 

This book was previously published in 2013 under the same title. While the text and cover have been updated, the story remains the same.

 


It’s been five years since a woman came between Ethan Barstow and his brother, Charley, and it’s high time they buried the hatchet. When Ethan travels to Arizona Territory to make amends, he learns that Charley has abruptly disappeared after breaking more than one heart in town. And an indignant fiancée is hot on his trail.

When Charley Barstow abandons a local girl after getting her pregnant, Kate Kinsella pursues him without a second thought. She’s determined he set things right, and even more determined to end her own engagement to him, a sham from the beginning. But an ill-timed encounter with a group of ruffians lands her in the company of Charley’s brother, Ethan, who suggests they search together.

As Ethan and Kate move deeper INTO THE LAND OF SHADOWS, family tensions and past tragedies threaten to destroy a love neither of them expected.

A sensuous historical western romance set in 1893 Arizona Territory. Into The Land Of Shadows is a stand-alone, full-length novel 

2014 Carolyn Readers’ Choice Award Finalist 

“… a must read … a story that is engaging and edge-of-the-seat gripping. [McCaffrey’s] vivid descriptions and great cast of characters, with exceptional dialogue, bring this story to life.”
  ~ Coffee Time Romance & More

 “With a vividly painted background, engaging and compelling characters and pages that just fly by, Into The Land Of Shadows is a superb read for any western or historical romance lover.”
  ~ Romance Junkies

 “…as if ‘Romancing The Stone’ and ‘The Good, the Bad and the Ugly’ and ‘Dances With Wolves’ got together and had a kid.” 
 ~ Reading Alley Reviewer


Excerpt – First Kiss

Kate hid in the shadows at the far end of the hallway hoping neither of the men would see her. They opened the door to Harry’s room and went inside. She would have little if no time to escape before they realized she was gone. Rufus didn’t completely close the door behind him. Kate tiptoed as fast as she could past the room she had occupied for the last several hours and moved quickly down the stairs, her legs still aching from misuse.

“Where’d she go?” Clive roared as Kate ran out into the street. She looked right then left. The road was dark, windy, and deserted. The sound of loud thumps on the stairs told her Clive and Rufus were right behind her.

She darted around the building and then ran behind another, and then hustled toward the end of the street.

“Spread out! We’ll git her!” Clive yelled.

Kate moved around a trading post but sensing a presence from behind, she jerked her head around and stared. A four-legged creature ran past, disappearing.

With a hand on her chest, she struggled to calm her breathing. It was just a dog.

She peeked around the building and saw Clive walking down the street carrying his gun. Rufus wasn’t in sight. She needed to find a place to hide but most establishments looked closed. Movement to the left caught her eye. Joe Tohonnie? Maybe she hadn’t dreamt him after all.

The shadow moved across the street and disappeared behind a blacksmith building. Kate ran to the other side of the street, hunching over to hide herself. Once she made it to the blacksmith, she glanced around.

“Joe?” she whispered. “Mister Tohonnie? Is that you?”

No answer but the wind. Kate began backing up toward the rear of the building, dread gripping her stomach. She swallowed hard, feeling uncertain. Staying close to the structure, her heart wouldn’t stop pounding and her hands were clammy from fear. She swallowed hard again then turned to run but was caught short, letting out an involuntary gasp when the four-legged creature cut her off with a growl.

The animal’s yellow eyes glowed by the light of the moon and he watched her with rapt attention, his body poised for attack.

A wolf.

Another low growl emanated from deep in the animal’s throat and Kate fought the urge to flee. The wolf’s head easily came to her chest; he would have no trouble chasing her down and ripping her to pieces. The gash on her face would pale in comparison to what he would do to her.

A commotion from behind startled her. Someone grabbed her, and in a frenzy Kate fought back, kicking and straining against the iron grip the man exerted around her waist. His hold loosened and Kate fell to the ground. She grabbed a loose board, and screamed as she swung it around, hitting the man’s leg. But he didn’t go down. She scooted backward and scrambled to her feet. The man grabbed her this time, facing her. Thinking it was Clive or Rufus, she continued to struggle.

“Katie! Katie! It’s me. It’s Ethan.” He held her tight against the building. A sob escaped from deep inside her throat, a maelstrom that matched the wind roaring in her ears, and then Ethan’s mouth was on hers.

Hot, insistent, devouring. She molded into him, her lips and tongue hungry for the sudden and consuming contact. She pushed her body against his, clinging to his broad shoulders, desperate to be closer still.

He didn’t abandon me.

His mouth crushed hers and she felt on fire, head to toe.

“Rufus, you find her?” Clive yelled in the distance.

Ethan broke the kiss, and Kate reeled back against the building. “Let’s go,” he said and grabbed her hand, pulling her behind the blacksmith building.

“Wait.” She tugged his hand to stop him. “There’s a wolf.” Her voice shook—either from the men chasing her, the wolf challenging her, or the man who had just devastated her defenses with one kiss. She could take her pick. She’d had a busy day.

“He’s with me,” Ethan said quietly. “He won’t hurt you.” The wolf suddenly appeared. “Bart!” Ethan cocked his head. “Come.”

“Get back here,” Clive yelled.

Kate looked over her shoulder and saw him in pursuit. He began shooting. Ethan ducked down and pulled her with him.

“Dammit, Clive!” Ethan yelled. “Give it a rest!”

“Bring her back,” Clive said. “We need her!”

“I need her more. Run, Kate.”

Copyright © 2021 K. McCaffrey LLC


Find buy links and more at Kristy's website

Tuesday, April 2, 2019

Navajo Spirits

By Kristy McCaffrey

The Navajo, from the southwestern region of the United States, believe a chindi is the ghost of an individual who has died. It is the part of that person that was imbalanced, or unreconciled, with the Universe. The Navajo believe that it’s best for death to occur outdoors, since this was the best way to disperse the chindi. If a person died within a homestead, or hogan, it was abandoned after the death; the chindi would likely be trapped inside the dwelling.

A skinwalker, or yee naaldlooshii, is a medicine man who has chosen to use his powers for evil. Navajo don’t like to speak of them for fear of retribution, believing them to move among their people undetected. Skinwalkers have the ability to transform into animals or other people. They often take the form of coyote, owl, fox, wolf or crow.

Some Navajo taboos:

Do not mention a dead person’s name or the ghost may come and haunt you.

Do not say chindi (evil spirit) or one will come to you.

Do not let a strange dog follow close behind or you may turn into a wolf man. The dog might be a skinwalker.

In my historical western romance novel, INTO THE LAND OF SHADOWS, Kate Kinsella and Ethan Barstow are forced to confront a chindi.




For the month of April, I'm offering a print copy of this book to one lucky winner. Hop over to my website to enter.



Excerpt
Kate wondered how far she’d get on foot before the man standing a few feet away caught her and did God-knew-what.

Ethan Barstow.

Of all her bad luck. She had never met the man, but Charley’s recollections of his brother filled her head. Liar. Swindler. Killer.

“You must be Charley’s fiancée,” he said, watching her closely, his gaze dark.

Swell. He knew who she was. She nodded, deciding now wasn’t the time to share the truth about her and Charley's relationship. Instinct told her she needed to ditch Mister Barstow, but losing the donkey was a bit of a problem. Maybe she could find the animal herself on foot. But what if the three buffoons who’d stolen her horse were still out there?

“I arrived in Flagstaff three days ago looking for Charley,” Ethan said. “I was told he’d left town unexpectedly so I’ve been trailing him. I take it you don’t know where he is, either?”

She cleared her throat. “No, I don’t.”

“Is there some reason why he wouldn’t tell you where he was going?”

Well, it’s not me, but Agnes he didn’t tell. It was far too complicated to explain, least of all to this man, so she uttered, “We’ve had a bit of a misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, Charley and I’ve had a bit of a misunderstanding as well,” Ethan said quietly, almost to himself.

Kate plastered the biggest smile she could onto her face. “I think I’ll just go look for that donkey myself. I really don’t want to be a bother to you.”

She moved past the man who was a dead ringer for Charley, possessing the same angular cheek bones and long nose, the same dark hair, the same lean build as her fiancé. Her fiancé! What a ridiculous mess that was. There had been a time, far back in the beginning of her acquaintance with Charley, when she’d found him attractive and fun. It had been short-lived, especially once Agnes entered the picture. Now, she was face-to-face with a man much like Charley, but while his eyes had been green and his demeanor inviting, Ethan’s eyes were blue, almost gray, like a lake frozen over.

There were other differences, as well, and none of them flattered Ethan. He was a man who had killed other men, and Kate knew she would never find anything appealing in that.

“Hang on a minute,” he said. His hand wrapped around her forearm to stop her—a large, warm hand. “I don’t suppose you have any idea who I am since Charley and I haven’t spoken in over five years, but I came to Flagstaff to hopefully put the past in the past. I came to see if Charley and I could bury our differences. The least I can do is to help you find him, especially since we’ll be kin one day.”

She made the mistake of looking into his eyes. Up close, she could see flecks of gold buried within the blue, and a few wrinkles in the skin around the edges of his eyes. It must be her imagination that he seemed the slightest bit more friendly. Charley had charm and it would seem Ethan did as well, although Kate sensed it wasn’t without shadows.

A killer of men would undoubtedly have many shadows to keep him company. She couldn’t think of how to reply. The last thing she wanted was company, and least of all Ethan’s company. She’d find her damned fiancé herself.

“Yes, it would make sense to look together.” So much for thinking fast on her feet. Her brother, Owen, had always said she was a little slow off the mark. It would seem he was right.

“You can ride Brandy,” Ethan said as he released her arm.

He moved to his other horse and began untying the bags of supplies he’d brought with him. He moved the largest satchel to his horse and tied several knots swiftly to anchor it in place. Kate chewed her lip. She could just make a run for it. The only after-effect of her fall from the donkey was a splitting headache—her legs were perfectly fine. But Ethan would probably chase her down. And then, he’d wonder what was wrong with her. And then, maybe he’d just shoot her in the back if he decided she wasn’t worth the trouble.

The image horrified her. Perhaps she should at least be civil to the man, to ward off her immediate murder. An opportunity for escape would surely present itself.

She had a plan. This was good. Her plan was to make small talk with Charley’s brother, then run for her life when she got the chance.

Copyright © 2013 K. McCaffrey LLC






Connect with Kristy

Wednesday, June 13, 2018

Into The Land Of Shadows by Kristy McCaffrey - June #blogabookscene #westernromance #prairierosepubs @prairierosepubs

By Kristy McCaffrey

Blog-a-Book-Scene is a monthly themed blogging endeavor from a group of authors who love to share excerpts from their stories. Find us on Twitter with the hashtag #blogabookscene and #PrairieRosePubs.

June's theme is On The Road Again. This excerpt is from my historical western paranormal romance novel, Into The Land Of Shadows, in which Ethan Barstow decides to help Kate Kinsella find his brother, who he believes is her fiance.



Excerpt

Kate wondered how far she’d get on foot before the man standing a few feet away caught her and did God-knew-what.
Ethan Barstow.
Of all her bad luck. She had never met the man, but Charley’s recollections of his brother filled her head. Liar. Swindler. Killer.
“You must be Charley’s fiancée,” he said, watching her closely, his gaze dark.
Swell. He knew who she was. She nodded, deciding now wasn’t the time to share the truth about her and Charley's relationship. Instinct told her she needed to ditch Mister Barstow, but losing the donkey was a bit of a problem. Maybe she could find the animal herself on foot. But what if the three buffoons who’d stolen her horse were still out there?
“I arrived in Flagstaff three days ago looking for Charley,” Ethan said. “I was told he’d left town unexpectedly so I’ve been trailing him. I take it you don’t know where he is, either?”
She cleared her throat. “No, I don’t.”
“Is there some reason why he wouldn’t tell you where he was going?”
Well, it’s not me, but Agnes he didn’t tell. It was far too complicated to explain, least of all to this man, so she uttered, “We’ve had a bit of a misunderstanding.”
“Yeah, Charley and I’ve had a bit of a misunderstanding as well,” Ethan said quietly, almost to himself.
Kate plastered the biggest smile she could onto her face. “I think I’ll just go look for that donkey myself. I really don’t want to be a bother to you.”
She moved past the man who was a dead ringer for Charley, possessing the same angular cheek bones and long nose, the same dark hair, the same lean build as her fiancé. Her fiancé! What a ridiculous mess that was. There had been a time, far back in the beginning of her acquaintance with Charley, when she’d found him attractive and fun. It had been short-lived, especially once Agnes entered the picture. Now, she was face-to-face with a man much like Charley, but while his eyes had been green and his demeanor inviting, Ethan’s eyes were blue, almost gray, like a lake frozen over.
There were other differences, as well, and none of them flattered Ethan. He was a man who had killed other men, and Kate knew she would never find anything appealing in that.
“Hang on a minute,” he said. His hand wrapped around her forearm to stop her—a large, warm hand. “I don’t suppose you have any idea who I am since Charley and I haven’t spoken in over five years, but I came to Flagstaff to hopefully put the past in the past. I came to see if Charley and I could bury our differences. The least I can do is to help you find him, especially since we’ll be kin one day.”
She made the mistake of looking into his eyes. Up close, she could see flecks of gold buried within the blue, and a few wrinkles in the skin around the edges of his eyes. It must be her imagination that he seemed the slightest bit more friendly. Charley had charm and it would seem Ethan did as well, although Kate sensed it wasn’t without shadows.
A killer of men would undoubtedly have many shadows to keep him company. She couldn’t think of how to reply. The last thing she wanted was company, and least of all Ethan’s company. She’d find her damned fiancé herself.
“Yes, it would make sense to look together.” So much for thinking fast on her feet. Her brother, Owen, had always said she was a little slow off the mark. It would seem he was right.
“You can ride Brandy,” Ethan said as he released her arm.
He moved to his other horse and began untying the bags of supplies he’d brought with him. He moved the largest satchel to his horse and tied several knots swiftly to anchor it in place. Kate chewed her lip. She could just make a run for it. The only after-effect of her fall from the donkey was a splitting headache—her legs were perfectly fine. But Ethan would probably chase her down. And then, he’d wonder what was wrong with her. And then, maybe he’d just shoot her in the back if he decided she wasn’t worth the trouble.
The image horrified her. Perhaps she should at least be civil to the man, to ward off her immediate murder. An opportunity for escape would surely present itself.
She had a plan. This was good. She would make small talk with Charley’s brother, then run for her life when she got the chance.

Copyright © 2013  K. McCaffrey LLC




Available in digital and print at Amazon.

Also in the Kindle Unlimited subscription program.



Connect with Kristy



Monday, May 7, 2018

INTO THE LAND OF SHADOWS By Kristy McCaffrey – May #blogabookscene #westernromance #prairierosepubs @prairierosepubs


By Kristy McCaffrey

Blog-a-Book-Scene is a monthly themed blogging endeavor from a group of authors who love to share excerpts from their stories. Find us on Twitter with the hashtag #blogabookscene and #PrairieRosePubs.

May's theme is Mayday! Mayday! This excerpt is from my historical western paranormal romance novel, Into The Land Of Shadows.


In the land of the Navajo, spirits and desire draw Ethan and Kate close, leading them deeper into the shadows and to each other.

Excerpt

“Let’s head upstream and look for a crossing.” Ethan put the map back into his saddlebag and shifted his gaze to something in the distance. “That doesn’t look good.”

Kate looked over her shoulder. Three riders approached, some distance away. Kate turned Brandy so she could have a better look. Whiskey moved so close to her daughter that Ethan’s shoulder bumped Kate’s from behind.

“That couldn’t possibly be them, could it?” she asked. Appalled that the three men who had stolen her horse were still after her, and trying her best to act as if she bumped shoulders with men she found compelling every day, she made a decision right then and there. “I’m not giving up Fred [the donkey].”

“Then move it, Kinsella,” Ethan said. He pushed Whiskey into a gallop.

They rode the horses, Fred tied behind Whiskey and moving at a good clip, up a rocky incline, climbing above the waterfall to their left. They moved faster, riding parallel to the river. Kate noticed the waterway was wide and although it didn’t look deep she really had no desire to cross so close to the waterfall. A sickening feeling of falling swept over her at the thought of plunging over the mesa.

Ethan kept pushing forward and Kate thankfully had to do very little to keep Brandy on pace with him. Kate chanced a glance over her right shoulder. The riders were moving at a faster clip. Ethan pulled his gun.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, jolted with panic. She was between Ethan and the men chasing them; was he going to shoot her?

He slowed Whiskey just a bit but didn’t take a shot. “Get on the other side of me,” he yelled.

Kate pushed Brandy ahead and to the left. Ethan protected her on one side while the river threatened to swallow her and Brandy up on the other.

The three riders gained on them and the sound of gunfire made Kate’s heart slam into her chest.

“Ride low, Kate,” Ethan commanded. He shot several times in succession and the three riders were forced to scatter. “We need to cross. Look for a low spot.”

Kate started searching the shoreline. They’d moved about a quarter-mile upriver from the waterfall so the current should have lessened but Kate really didn’t want to test that theory.

“I don’t know,” she said. “It all looks pretty much the same.”

“Then let’s go. Remember to hold tight to Brandy, especially if it gets too deep.”

Kate’s mouth went dry as she turned her horse to the left and splashed into the muddy waters. It wasn’t deep and Brandy moved swiftly. The horse jostled Kate up and down as the water rose to Brandy’s belly. Kate’s boots got wet. Brandy kept moving, but started to slow, fighting the current. Kate looked behind and saw Ethan, Whiskey, and Fred still on the shoreline. She swung her head around to look over her other shoulder. One of their assailants closed in. Kate panicked. She should do something. She tried to turn Brandy around but the horse resisted.

“Of all the times to become independent,” Kate growled. “Go back to mama, Brandy.” The horse stayed the course.

Kate looked back again. Ethan had dismounted and shooed Whiskey and Fred into the river. The two animals moved toward her, kicking up a flurry of water. Brandy wouldn’t turn around so all Kate could do was wait for the other two animals to catch them. She watched with mounting concern as Ethan took cover behind a scrub brush with a gun in one hand and a rifle in the other. Enemy number one took aim at Kate. Ethan opened fire as Kate fell off Brandy’s back and into the water.

The current pulled her feet from under her and she frantically tried to hold onto something but lost her grip on Brandy’s saddle. She moved down river with surprising speed. It wasn’t deep, but her feet slipped repeatedly every time she tried to dig her heels into the soft bottom. Her hat bobbed behind her, pulling the drawstring against her neck. She choked as much from that as from the water splashing onto her face, into her mouth, and up her nose.

I have to stop. She’d fly off the waterfall any second. Her arms flailed to find anything. She tried to swim against the current, stroking with one arm then another but gasped for breath.

She jerked to a stop. Her foot was caught on a spindly branch protruding from the swirling fluid. Grabbing the smooth wood with both hands, she prayed it would hold. She was able to stand, but only a little; the water was just below her breasts. The strong current made it impossible to get to shore. She must be close to the waterfall.

Help! Help me!

In the distance she heard a voice. “Kate. Kate!”

“Ethan!” She hoped he could hear her. “Ethan! Over here!”

She searched for him on the western bank.

“Kate!”

He was behind her atop Whiskey. Brandy and Fred were with him, as unhappy as Kate if their agitation was any indication.

“Hang on,” he yelled. “I’m gonna get you.”

He detached a circle of rope from Whiskey’s saddle, unwound it then positioned himself partially in the water.

“I’m gonna throw you the rope,” he yelled. “Grab onto it.”

She nodded, although she doubted he could see her response. Her hands felt slippery on the thin wood she grasped and her breathing came in short, rapid bursts.

Ethan spun the rope above his head and cast it upriver from her. The current brought it to her and she reached out to grab it as it floated by but she missed it by inches. She spun around her wooden anchor and almost lost her grip entirely. In a panic she struggled to grab back on. She heard her voice and realized she was screaming and crying.

“Katie!  Honey, look at me,” Ethan said.

Her back was to him now. She was terrified to move. “I can’t, I can’t,” she chanted to herself. If she yelled, the force of her voice might dislodge her from the only thing keeping her from rushing over the waterfall.

Get hold of yourself, Kate. But she couldn’t. Her arms were paralyzed, and she could hardly breathe. She needed to grab the rope again when Ethan tossed it to her; she needed to just extend one hand from the safety of her barely-there tree. Move your arm. She closed her eyes and prayed for courage. A sob escaped. She couldn’t bring herself to let go. As long as she held on, she survived. If she let go, the water could push her from her only anchor. She squeezed her eyes shut again.

She’d be killed. Her mama flashed through her mind. She hadn’t spoken to her in two years, had barely corresponded via letters. And now she would die and there would be no more opportunities. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she chanted. But her mama couldn’t hear her. Neither could Owen or Petey. Or Mrs. Finley. She’d die, and she was only twenty years old.

“Katie! Look at me.” Ethan’s voice was louder, closer.

She lifted her gaze; she trembled so much that the hair hanging in her face shook. Ethan was in the water, coming toward her.

Copyright © 2013  K. McCaffrey LLC



Available in digital and print at Amazon.

Also in the Kindle Unlimited subscription program.




Connect with Kristy




Friday, December 1, 2017

A Thank You To My Readers #giveaways #treats



As 2017 comes to a close, I have to thank each and every one of you -- my dear readers. I've had an amazing year in which I was able to get my books into the hands of so many more people than I'd ever imagined. And the response has truly warmed my heart. Along with a big fat smooshy THANK YOU, I've also got some holiday treats for you all.

How about a free
 Wings short story featuring Molly and her sister Emma? (And, of course, Matt and Nathan also make an appearance.) This BRAND NEW TALE is available exclusively to my newsletter subscribers.



Christmas Eve 1878

Molly Hart Ryan and her sister, Emma Blackmore, return to the abandoned Hart Ranch to visit the gravesites of their folks. While confronting the past revives a deep heartache and sadness that has long been buried, it also offers an unexpected gift.


Sign up for Kristy's newsletter here and get the download code today!!

You'll also receive the short novella SONG OF THE WREN, not available anywhere else. (I recommend that you read THE WREN before grabbing these freebies.) THE WREN is permafree at all ebook outlets.


Two years after THE WREN, Matt Ryan finds more than rustlers when his cattle begin disappearing. Forced to confront an enemy he thought long gone, he must ready for a fight, but he’s never faced a battlefield like this before, and only his wife, Molly, can save him this time.

*****
I'm giving away 2 complete print sets of the Wings of the West series (all 5 novels). To be eligible, send an email to kristy@kristymccaffrey.com with CONTEST in the memo line. Winners must be U.S. residents (I'm not excluding international winners, but a comparable digital prize will be substituted -- either ebooks or giftcards). Contest closes December 7. Winners will be notified December 8.



*****
I've got an awesome Amazon giveaway happening right now that you don't want to miss!! Enter for a chance to win 1 of 4 sherpa blanket throws decorated with dog bones. To be eligible, you must 'follow' me at Amazon. All that means is that when I have a new release, you'll receive an email notifying you.




Click HERE to enter. You must be a U.S. resident.

Winners will be chosen December 7 ~ you'll receive your prize right on time for Christmas.

I chose the blanket in honor of my sweet chocolate lab Ranger. I recently lost my baby boy just one week after his 13th birthday to a broken leg caused by a tumor (and, unfortunately, indicative of bone cancer). The decision to let him go absolutely crushed me. He loved swimming every day, going anywhere in the car, and he was the ultimate homebody. Despite his declining health in the months leading up to his death, he was always a happy, cheerful guy. We still have his sister, Lily (age 10), and are slowly adjusting to his absence, but life will never be the same without him.
     



*****



Next year, I'll be launching a new contemporary adventure romance series (The Pathway Series).
The first book, DEEP BLUE, has an
updated release date of February 26, 2018. It was supposed to be out this month, but for marketing purposes I need a bit more time to prepare. While I know many of you are here because you love my historical western romances, I do hope you'll give this new series a try. I plan to release the first 3 books (DEEP BLUE, COLD HORIZON, and ANCIENT WINDS) in 2018 and then I've got a new western trilogy I want to write. Have no fear, I haven't abandoned the Old West for good.

To satisfy your cowboy fix in the meantime, have you read my standalone novel
INTO THE LAND OF SHADOWS? This is available in print and digital through Amazon, as well as included in the Kindle Unlimited program. However, since I have a bunch of Nook readers here (and a few Kobo, iBooks, and Google Play peeps), I want to offer a special deal for the month of December. For only $5 (this includes S&H -- U.S. residents only), I'll send you an autographed print copy of SHADOWS. Email me to make arrangements.



*****
And lastly, I'm over at author Andrea Downing's Blog this month chatting about Christmas stuff (my short essay is about the attachment we moms have to the ornaments on our tree), along with Patti Sherry-Crews and Devon McKay. I had the pleasure of working on an anthology earlier this year with these wonderful ladies. Please stop by and leave a comment for a chance to win a few book goodies. Visit Andrea's blog here.
Here's the collection, in case you're interested.


Available at Amazon for 99 cents or FREE in Kindle Unlimited
*****

Each month I participate at two western-themed blogs: Cowboy Kisses and Prairie Rose Publications. Here's a few highlights from this year.




Cowboy Kisses Blog
Visit The Grand Canyon
Petroglyphs
The Best Travel Ideas in Arizona

Prairie Rose Blog
Story Archaeology
Arizona Territory Army Posts

Bill Kirkland: An Arizona Pioneer

*****

Might I ask a favor? Would you follow me on BookBub? I need 1000 followers to unlock the ability to send out pre-order notices on future releases. I'm currently at 918. So close!!



I wish you all the happiest of holidays. May you be surrounded by those you love, and comforted by the memories of those who have passed, as we ring in 2018.
God Bless,




Kristy

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Great American Western Romance Week


Today I've got a post over at Hart's Romance Pulse about the psychology behind my Wings of the West series. Although I strove to write a western historical romance saga to engage and entertain the reader, I also followed the growth of the feminine psyche. The ideas of finding one's home, of outward and inward healing of wounds, the power of storytelling in mending the soul, and, ultimately, carving a path in the world were all blueprints while I crafted the books.


Be sure to leave a comment at the blog for a chance to win a signed copy of my standalone novel INTO THE LAND OF SHADOWS. There's also a rafflecopter for a Kindle Fire!!


Lots of great posts this week by a bunch of western romance authors. Stop by Hart's Romance Pulse to check it out!!



Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Into The Land Of Shadows Goodreads Giveaway

By Kristy McCaffrey

I'm giving away 5 autographed print copies of INTO THE LAND OF SHADOWS over at Goodreads. To enter, click the link below.

“…as if ‘Romancing The Stone’ and ‘The Good, the Bad and the Ugly’ and ‘Dances With Wolves’ got together and had a kid.” ~ Armenia, Reading Alley Reviewer



Goodreads Book Giveaway

Into the Land of Shadows by Kristy McCaffrey

Into the Land of Shadows

by Kristy McCaffrey

Giveaway ends May 05, 2016.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.
Enter Giveaway

In the land of the Navajo, spirits and desire draw Ethan and Kate close, leading them deeper into the shadows and to each other.

“Into the Land of Shadows is a must read. Kristy McCaffrey tells a story that is engaging and edge-of-the-seat gripping. Her vivid descriptions and great cast of characters, with exceptional dialogue, bring this story to life.” ~ Cherokee, Coffee Time Romance & More
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Kate Kinsella has no choice but to go after Charley Barstow and talk some sense into him. After all, he's skipped town, leaving a string of broken hearts and his pregnant fiancée, Agnes McPherson. But Kate didn't count on being kidnapped by a band of criminals along the way!

Ethan Barstow is hot on his younger brother's trail, too. He rescues Kate, believing her to be Charley's fiancée, and suggests they try to find him together. Kate's reluctance has him baffled.

All hell breaks loose when they discover Charley in search of a copper mine—not wishing to be found by anyone; certainly not Kate! But, then, Kate was always trouble—and now she's brought it to his doorstep, with tales of a pregnant fiancée and his brother Ethan, who he hasn't seen in five years.

Can Ethan and Kate ever find their own love and happiness with one another through the dark deception and hurt? Or will they both return INTO THE LAND OF SHADOWS...
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A steamy historical western romance set in 1893 Arizona Territory.

Carolyn Readers’ Choice Award Finalist
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“Kristy McCaffrey brings us a story with heart and spirit, characters that live, and an understanding of the place and people that far surpasses a traditional romance…” ~ Marcy Waldenville, author of Tears of the Damned

“…a haunting story with suspense, passion, and excellent character building.” ~ Jane Bowers, Romance Reviews Today

“With a vividly painted background, engaging and compelling characters and pages that just fly by, Into The Land Of Shadows is a superb read for any western or historical romance lover.” ~ Wendy, Romance Junkies

“Tighten that cinch because Into The Land Of Shadows is a fast paced ride.” ~ Emmanuelle Wilder, author of French Crème and French Heat

“The author’s descriptions of the Arizona desert and the Indians who inhabit it are beautiful. You almost feel as if you are there. There are surprises, an element of the paranormal, which is done exceptionally well, and romance. If you love Westerns, then don’t miss this one.” ~ Linda Tonis, Paranormal Romance Guild

“McCaffrey has yet another hit with this one.” ~ Jonel Boyko, Pure Jonel Blog

“…action-adventure, mystery, and romance…” ~ Susan Frances, BTS eMag

“...a good old-fashioned western, a romance and an adventure...I loved it!” ~ Willa Jemhart, author of Drowning in Deception

“McCaffrey's novels spirit you off to the Old West, holds you captive then rescues you by the most charming of heroes, leaving you breathless and wanting more.” ~ Joan Mauch, author of Halifax and The Mangled Spoon

Sunday, March 1, 2015

Feral Dogs, Hexes, and Living With The Navajo

By Kristy McCaffrey

When I was nine years old, my parents, my sister and I moved to the Navajo Indian Reservation. I very much did not want to go. My dad, who has long had a deep and abiding respect for Native Americans, saw this as a chance to give back with his life. He took a job as an accountant with an arts and crafts store in Window Rock, Arizona—capital of the Navajo Nation. We obtained a house just across the border in New Mexico, in a small town aptly called “Navajo,” supported by a local sawmill.

It was 1975 and we lived in a neighborhood that consisted of generic government housing. We weren’t rich by any means, but when we moved in, it became quickly known that we had a working telephone and my mother was generous in sharing kitchen items. After a time, she had to start saying no. The charity was simply getting out-of-hand. Unfortunately, many of the Navajo were complacent and drank too much. Even as a child, it struck me as a rather depressing place to live.

View from our front door ~ Navajo, New Mexico ~ 1975.
My sister, nearly four years younger and in kindergarten, embraced the journey with much more enthusiasm. She quickly came home speaking Navajo. I, however, was in fourth-grade and only one of two white girls in the classroom. I was teased constantly, for having braces, for being different, for being pale. I became friends with Nancy, the only other white girl in a class of well over forty children, because our Indian classmates assumed we should be friends and naturally herded us together. At first, I was glad for a comrade, but it didn’t take long to realize Nancy was mean, overbearing and manipulative. She repeatedly betrayed my confidences. These usually entailed discussions about boys in class, and hardly seem of importance now, but at nine years old it devastated me. From it grew anger and bitterness, which I naturally directed at my environment. How easy it is to let this be a template into another culture.

We weren’t the only outsiders in the community. My large class had four teachers, two of which were a white husband and wife team. My mother soon began babysitting their toddler daughter, so it was natural that they would look out for me. This was a double-edged sword, since being viewed as the teachers’ favorite didn’t further endear me to my classmates. However, they did teach me separately in math, since my skills were more advanced than the other students, and one day, when one of the Navajo instructors was absent, I was assigned to administer spelling quizzes all day. These experiences certainly bolstered my confidence.

Every so often a high point would occur. School field trips were not of the normal variety, with one a hike into the nearby wilderness to view a natural stone arch. My mother, who accompanied us, was amazed the Navajo children knew the names of all the local vegetation. Other incidents were somewhere between odd and almost comical. When my sister’s little Navajo playmates would return home after an afternoon at our house, my mother would have to drive one little girl despite that she lived two doors down because the child feared a shape-shifter named Billy Blue Eyes. When I contracted strep throat, a visit to the local clinic had my mother holding my screaming self down as an elderly Navajo woman repeatedly stabbed my backside with a dull needle filled with penicillin. And some experiences chilled to the bone. The teenage girl next door getting beat up by her boyfriend, who at one point pulled a gun. The dying puppy my mother rescued from our front porch, the one I’d callously walked by for days, because dogs died so frequently on our street that I couldn’t bear to open my heart for fear the pain would swallow me whole.

Navajo, New Mexico in 1993 when I returned with my husband.
It's considered the most Navajo town in the U.S., with 95%
of its residents having full or partial Navajo ancestry.
One night, a Navajo man came to our front door with a shotgun. He said he was going to shoot our dog, believing that he’d killed his daughter’s poodle, the animal reportedly torn apart. There was a pack of rather mean canines that roamed the neighborhood—they’d already attacked me one day while walking home from school—so there was no doubt they had done the slaying. My dad had erected a barbed-wire fence for our two dogs, Labrador-mixes and not feral by any means, so we were certain that neither was guilty. (The fence was to protect them.) My dad spent several hours, and several beers along with my mom’s enchiladas, trying to convince the man not to shoot, and thankfully it worked.

I developed a panic-filled fear of AIM walkers, fueled by stories heard from classmates. I now know that this acronym stands for the American Indian Movement, a group dedicated to addressing the issues of present-day Native Americans, but in my scared mind they were ghost-like shape-shifters that prowled the wash behind our house. There were many nights I literally shook in terror while trying to sleep, fearing they would snatch me from my bed.

Our house sat at the base of a sheer red rock cliff. At times, the monolith stifled me with its presence, but it also beckoned to be climbed. So, one afternoon, my mom, dad, and sister clambered up its face to the top. At the midway point, a precipitous rock face had to be traversed and our overweight black Labrador, Raquel, couldn’t navigate the steep path. She paced at the bottom, barking and whining, while our other dog, Rommell, scrambled onward with us. The expansive view at the top, coupled with the solitude and palpable energy in the land, left me with bittersweet memories. The region drenched the soul with possibilities, but I know now that I was too young to appreciate it, to channel it in a useful way. In some regards, the Navajo themselves, at that place and that time, had lost their center as well.

The sheer cliff across the street from our house. I climbed
to the top with my family and one of my dogs.
And then there was the hex. At the arts and crafts store that employed my father, a worker found a Styrofoam cup tucked away on a shelf. Inside were various items that included a torn corner of a $5, $10 and $20 bill. It was immediately clear to those who discovered it that a curse had been placed. Soon thereafter, a medicine man was called. Since it involved all of the employees, my dad was allowed, despite being a white man, to participate in the ceremonies conducted.

At the first ritual, the medicine man found a buried pot outside the building, at the base of the famous local landmark, the window rock. This was accomplished when his hand trembled over the exact location. On the outside of the pot, stick figures represented the employees, and lightning bolts painted above indicated death by lightning strike. At the time, we were having terrible storms every day. Inside were pieces of coral, turquoise and silver, and a section of human skull.

Window Rock
At the second ceremony, a bowl filled with some type of tea was passed around to ingest, and then each employee was asked to look into a crystal to identify who had placed the hex. My dad says he saw nothing, but it was generally agreed that the perpetrator was a former employee who had been fired. She was part of a major Navajo clan, and her dismissal had possibly angered the wrong people. But the curse spoke of deeper problems within the Navajo and their way of life. The crafts people—those who made Indian jewelry and the iconic Navajo weavings—were at odds with the administration, which included my dad. There were those who wanted progress, and those who didn’t. At the conclusion of the ceremony, after a sand painting was created, the piece of skull inside the pot was burned. Two female employees reported instant relief from a terrible headache that had plagued them all evening. Back at home, at the same time, my mother said I’d been distraught and crying for hours from pains in my head, which immediately stopped when the bone was destroyed. It seemed family members had also been included in the hex.

My dad never attended the third, and final, observance—the Blessing Way—because we had returned to Phoenix. He has always joked that the hex was never fully removed. As evidence, he cites various mishaps that occur whenever he and my mother return to the Navajo Reservation: car breakdowns, money stolen, and in one instance missing a critical turnoff because five Indians stood in front of a directional sign.

I was glad to leave, but in the years since it’s been clear the experience left a lasting impression. No matter how hard I resisted, no matter how much I hardened my heart, the red rock and Navajo people seeped into the cracks of my armor, scaring me with the rawness and underlying pain, but also mesmerizing my senses with unseen forces that all but vibrated in and around me.


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As I prepared this essay for publication on this blog (culled from writings on the subject I've penned over the years), it dawned on me why I've tended toward the mystical in several of my books, and why I've always been curious about the lives of Native Americans in the 1800's. Although I lived for less than a year with the Navajo, their painful history collided with my own anxieties and left a permanent marker in my mind. I've often considered that year a pivotal one in my development, especially as a storyteller. Even at nine years old, I couldn't keep the spirits at bay; they murmured in my ear at every turn. And so, I continually pursue tales that follow the footprints of those whispers.

I included details from the hex in my historical western romance novel INTO THE LAND OF SHADOWS. I also explored the Navajo tradition as it related to the world of the supernatural.



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