Pre-order your copy of Wild Western Women now on Amazon and iBooks!
Add it to your Goodreads WANT TO READ list!

The Wild Western Women Box Set launches tomorrow! To celebrate, I’m bringing you an excerpt from Sylvia McDaniels’ Desperate, one of the stories in the collection. Enjoy!

Chapter One

“I don’t believe you. My sister was not charging boys to kiss her.” Meg McKenzie said, standing in the field of her small east Texas family farm. Her sister’s school teacher stood in front of her, arms folded, the school marms temper barely held in check.

At nineteen, Meg felt too young to be the responsible parent of a fifteen year-old. And Ruby was definitely more than one person could handle.

“I’m sorry, Meg. I know you’ve had to raise this child without much help from your father, but I can’t have her coming back to my class. She’s a distraction in the classroom,” the young woman told Meg, her parasol shielding her from the sun.

They stood out in the pasture where Meg had been hoeing the spring garden, preparing it for spring planting. Her working pants were coated with mud, she smelled of manure and her hands were calloused and rough from time spent working the land.

Meg dreamed of being a woman who had few responsibilities and wasn’t accountable for the care of the farm and her two sisters. She didn’t want to be a parent. She longed to wear skirts, go to dances and flirt with young men. She wanted to feel young, not like her life was half over, before it had even begun.

And Ruby seemed to stay in trouble. “My sister may not have had a mother to raise her properly, but she’s been taught that girls don’t chase boys.”

Staring at the school marms clothes, Meg recognized her poke bonnet and how she wore a bustle beneath her skirt. From the last catalogue her Papa had brought home, it was the latest fashion.

“She wasn’t chasing them, Meg. She was charging them a nickel a piece to kiss her,” Miss Andrews said, her parasol held tightly in her gloved hands. The old maid had driven out here in her buggy, her fourth visit this school year.

Meg couldn’t help herself, she laughed. Not even Ruby would be foolish enough to do something so naughty. “I don’t believe you.”

Miss Andrews placed her hands on her hips and almost snarled at Meg. “I would never have found out about it, if the line hadn’t gone clear around the building. I caught her in the act of kissing Jimmy Brown.”


From Best Selling Author Sylvia McDaniel: Desperate

After the death of their father, the McKenzie sisters, Meg, Annabelle and Ruby try the normal ways for women to earn a living in a small western town. When they fail, the McKenzie sisters decide to take up their father’s profession, bounty hunting. They quickly learn they can use their feminine wiles and their Baby Dragoons to earn their way in the old west. They’re tough and resilient, badass women in this historical western novella. Kick off the adventure with the first installment of the new series, Lipstick and Lead with Desperate.

{ Find Sylvia on her website, Facebook, and Twitter. }

Pre-order your copy of Wild Western Women now on Amazon and iBooks!
Add it to your

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Halloween Blog Hop!!



Here is a picture of my 2 month old grandbabies, Carson and Mason in their cowboy Halloween get up. Their mom entered them in a contest with our local TV station.

Once you’ve enjoyed the picture, comment below to be entered into a drawing for a
$10 amazon gift card and one of my ebooks (your choice). Then click on that funny little guy on the top left of the screen and catch the rest of the Entangled authors on the Blog Hop!! Lots of fun and prizes.
halloween 2014

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I’m excited to announce 30 western historical authors have their books on sale for .99 from October 17th to the 20th. Check out all the great books by some of your favorite authors and some new ones!!

Pioneer Hearts Western Romance Sale

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Historical Romance – Escape to the Pleasures of the Past!!


A group of Historical Romance authors have put together an excellent video on Historical Romance. Take a look, they did an excellent job: Historical Romance Video

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Release Party September 23rd!!


I’m so excited to announce that Robyn DeHart, Sabrina Darby and I will be hosting a release party for our Entangled Scandalous books:

Disgrace by Callie Hutton

Lord of Regrets by Sabrina Darby

Misadventures in Seduction by Robyn DeHart

Come join the fun between 8 and 10 PM Eastern Time. Goodbye Summer, Hello Romance

Release Party

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Random Thoughts The Night Before the Next Day


As I sit and write this, it is 8:25 PM the night before my 13th book releases. The Lady’s Disgrace is the third book in my Marriage Mart Mayhem series. Soooo, one would think after 12 other launches, one would be pretty calm and blase about the whole thing. If that’s what one thinks, one would be wrong. Very wrong.

I remember the night before my very first book, A Run For Love, released I had this horrible urge to climb into my closet, curl up in the corner and suck my thumb. I just knew the entire world would be pointing at me and laughing “did she really think she could write? How funny!”

Now I stay out of the closet, but I must admit that chocolate plays a big part in my pre-release evening activities. As does chips, soda pop and more chocolate. Yes, I will say it: I’m an emotional eater!!! There. Got that off my chest. Whew!

I love to tell stories. I spent a great deal of my childhood telling myself stories on long car trips, trying to fall asleep at night, or when one of my boring relatives had my ear and good manners prohibited me from telling them how truly boring they were. I made up stories when I traveled back and forth to work. For a while I had a job in New York City that required me to take a train every day. I saw the same people, and began to match them up in my head. This man was married to that woman, but was having an affair with this woman, whose mother — sitting alongside me — disapproved. And so it went.

Eventually, my imagination nudged me one day and said, “How about writing all this stuff down, put it into a book, and see if anyone is crazy enough to publish it for you?” What a major surprise when a publisher did offer to buy A Run For Love. That was after quite a few rejections, though. But I was on my way to telling stories that not only did people want to read, but they actually put down hard earned money to buy the right to do that.  Amazing.

So, now I send my 13th ‘baby’ out there for the world to see, enjoy, criticize, laugh over, cry over, or toss aside. Probably a little bit of it all. But number 14 will arrive in my inbox this week from my editor to start edits, and I’m almost finished writing number 15. Lots of stories to tell. Lots of chocolate to consume. Lots of closets to stay out of.

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Exciting News!!


My two BFFs and fellow authors, Cheryl Yeko, Char Chaffin, and I, have put together a newsletter. The Power of Three Logofirst issue is Monday, February 10th. We’re very excited about this new venture. Our newsletter will have information on our writing life. We’ll share tidbits about our family and the world of a romance author. We’ll also have contests and free stuff!!

Starting tomorrow, you can sign up for the newsletter here:

If you want to subscribe now, send your email address to:, and we’ll get you on the list.

‘Hope to ‘see’ you soon!!!

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An Author’s Lament


‘Twas the night before Christmas,
And the author said ‘damn’
I need to get this book
Into my publisher’s hands

Her children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While she got two aspirins for the pain in her head,

Mama in her kerchief and papa in his cap,
She hoped this last revision would be but a snap
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
She hopped from her laptop to see what the hell happened now!

The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,
Gave a luster of midday to objects below,
When what to her wondering eyes should appear
But her hero dressed as Santa without any beard−or shirt
His eyes, how they twinkled! His dimples how cool!
His cheeks were like roses, his chest made her drool

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Fixing the scene where she’d made him a jerk,
And laying his finger under her chin,
He gave her a kiss as wicked as sin,

He sprang to his horse, to his horse gave a whistle,
And left her alone with nothing but sizzle.

But she heard him exclaim, ere he rode out of sight
Get your ass back to work, it will be a long night!


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Entangled Halloween Hop!!!



I’m part of the Entangled Publishers Halloween Hop! Be sure to click on the link near the end of my article so you can follow the other fabulous authors during this Hop.

Halloween makes me think of a new plan to stimulate the economy that doesn’t include bailing any big shots out. On October 31, all adults will dress in a ghost or goblin outfit to go trick or treating. However, instead of carrying a bag to collect candy, they will carry a bagful of their monthly bills. After ringing their neighbor’s doorbells, yelling “trick or treat” (in a high voice, of course—so they sound like kids), they’ll deposit one of their unpaid bills in the mailbox and steal away into the darkness. When all the bills are gone, they get to go home and have a margarita—or sinful beverage of choice. Only past due bills will qualify.

Of course I realize the flaw in my plan. No one will likely pay someone else’s bills (unless they’re less than theirs). But think of the interesting conversations generated by your neighbor knowing who and what you owe. “Harold, do you know the Spencer’s owe there months back payments on Laura’s braces? No wonder the poor child was here Saturday trying to sell her Science exam to David.”

At the very least you would lose your bills long enough to have a legitimate excuse for not paying them this month, and the diversion could be more entertaining than the latest reality TV show. This, my friends, is real reality.

Halloween is, of course, one of our favorite holidays. Surveys tell us (I sound like a TV game host) that next to Christmas, Halloween is children’s favorite holiday. Personally, I prefer Arbor Day, but since I’m no longer a child, I don’t count.

There is something magical for me in this holiday called Halloween. When I was a kid, I spent many hours dreaming up a beautiful, custom-made princess costume with a wand of gold and a long, flowing blonde wig. I was equally thrilled when my mom brought home a Superman costume on special at Walmart.

In those days most of us went trick or treating in the afternoon, right after school. I lived in a neighborhood with roughly eleven thousand children (baby boom era), so it was no small feat to return home with a full bag of candy. But we managed every year.

After dinner on that sacred day, my folks would pile all of us in the car, take a head count—throw out the extras—and to grandmother’s house we’d go. This was probably the best time. Grandma always saved the most favored candy for us, as well as special cookies or cupcakes. In fact, the day was not considered a success unless at least one of us had to throw up on the way home.

My youngest is now a college student of twenty-one, and still celebrates the holiday. She and her friend dress up and terrorize kids who ring the doorbell before they give them candy. She picks out (and buys, bless her heart), her own costume. I wanted to be beautiful as a child, she wants to look as gross as possible. Times change.

I’ll be busy Halloween night. While hubby hands out candy, I’ll be loading my bills into a wheelbarrow.

Now where did I leave the gorilla mask I got on sale at Walmart?

Also: Check out the rest of the blog tour here:  Entangled Publishing
a Rafflecopter giveaway

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A Writer’s Life


So here I sit, staring at a blank screen, knowing I have to write a guest blog, and not one single thought comes to mind. I hate this computer screen.

Then a song pops up in my head. “I never promised you. . .” I can’t think of the rest of the line. Who cares, you say? Right now with nothing else going on my brain, I do. So I add “a rain barrel.” No, that’s not right. I try “a love life.” Nope. I tap my foot in rhythm to the song. Can sing it almost all the way through until I hit “I never promised you. . .” when it all comes to a screeching halt.

My fingers itch to click onto the internet and do a search. Not going to happen. I need to get this post written. I sigh. Go to the kitchen and put on a fresh pot of coffee. Stare out the window. Run the song through my mind again. “I never promised you a . . .” Maybe it’s “hop in the sack?” Getting desperate at this point.

I notice dishes piled in the sink. Check the dishwasher. Clean, so I put them away. Load it up again, and start it. “I never promised you a . . .” Hmm. “good time?” Pour some coffee and spend five minutes searching every cabinet for my favorite coffee cup lid. Humming this blasted song, I return to my desk.

The screen is still blank, the magic word fairies having deserted me on this one. My index finger hovers over the internet key. I yank it away, and then hold a conversation with my dog. She yawns and lays back down, ignoring my dilemma. I thought she knew her place as my best friend.

My eyes skim the room. The coffee table is coated with dust. I get up and grab a dust cloth and can of Pledge. “I never promised you a . . .” What fits, for heaven’s sake? “clean house?” Ha. Hubby can vouch for that one.

Back in my chair, my hands smelling of lemon, I stare at the internet key. I dare it to draw my finger. I win−I’m a strong woman. “I never promised you a. . .ton of money?” Nah, I know it’s two words, just can’t think of them.

All right, I have to get serious here. Why is it so much easier to write an entire book than it is to write a short guest blog? One of life’s little mysteries it seems. I try to block out the song by singing another one to myself. Then another—and another. Pretty soon I’ve given myself an entire concert, but I still can’t remember the last two words of that line.

My dog lifts one eyelid from her position at my feet. I guess all this singing is disturbing her beauty rest. My daughter enters the room, dressed for dirt digging. She’s decided to take on the job of family landscaper. Just hope she finishes it this year.

“Hey mom, suppose I put in a rose garden this year?”

“Yes!!” I shout, doing a fist pump.

“Wow, you’re really into roses, aren’t you?”

I burst into song. “I never promised you a rose garden.”

I’ve stunned her speechless. The dog lumbers off into the next room. I glance down at my computer screen, amazed to see this little rambling has given me my blog. Ha! Done.

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