“Suspicion ain’t proof unless you’re married”
-Gunpowder Tea (The Brides of Last Chance Ranch)
Welcome back, Margaret. Tell us about your salvation experience.
First let me say, thank you for letting me visit today,
Lena. To answer your question; I can’t remember a time
that God wasn’t in my life, but my greatest salvation was when He pulled me
through (kicking and screaming I might add) the loss of our oldest son.
You’re planning a writing retreat where you can only have four other authors. Who would they be and why?
I would invite Louisa May Alcott so I could thank her for the hours of enjoyment she gave me as a child. (I pretended I was Jo the writer). I would want to include Mark Twain because he traveled all over the west, and I could use his eye for details. I had the pleasure of having lunch with Louis L’amour years ago, and the stories he told still resonate. He and Mark would sure keep things lively. Finally, I would want to invite Jane Austen, because she really set the standard for women’s fiction.
You met Louis L’amour? How awesome! I read his books when I was younger. Loved them. Do you have a speaking ministry? If so, tell us about that.
I do speak on occasion but deadlines keep me from doing it more. I talk about writing, but I also have a speaking grief ministry based on my non-fiction book Grieving God’s Way: the Path to Lasting Hope and Healing.
What is the most embarrassing thing that has happened to you and how did you handle it?
At the time, flunking 8th grade English was the most embarrassing thing because I want to be a writer. My teacher told me not to even think about being a writer. The way I handled it was to give up my dream (big mistake!). It took years before I realize that God doesn’t put a dream into our hearts without also giving us the tools to pursue it. I just had to learn how to use those tools. I never did learn how to diagram a sentence, but I learned how to tell my stories.
I’m glad you didn’t let that teacher keep you from writing. I love your books. And I am a firm believer is God being the Dream Planter in our hearts. People are always telling me that they’d like to write a book someday. I’m sure they do to you, too. What would you tell someone who came up to you and said that?
It can be frustrating at times because most people have no idea how much work goes into writing a book. Even my closest friends don’t know how hard I work. It looks deceptively easy because practically everyone has access to a keyboard or pad and pencil. What would I say? I’d probably just smile and say, “Good luck.” What would I be thinking? “Yeah, and one day I’d like to be a doctor.”
Tell us about the featured book.
In my book Miranda Hunt is a Pinkerton detective working undercover at the ranch. She has no idea that Jeremy Taggert is a Wells Fargo agent also working undercover. Naturally, they’re suspicious of each other and this causes them to work at cross purposes. But the fun really begins when they learn each other’s true identity. It then becomes a race to see which of the two competitive detectives catches the bad guy first and nothing, not even love, can get in the way.
Sounds like a fun read. I can’t wait until my book arrives. Please give us the first page of the book.
Pinkerton National Detective Agency: We never sleep.
Miranda Hunt drew a linen handkerchief from the sleeve of her black mourning frock and dabbed the corner of her eye. Only the most discerning person would spot the foot tapping impatiently beneath the hem of her skirt. Or guess that her respectfully lowered head hid a watchful gaze.
As far as anyone knew, she was exactly who she purported to be: Mrs. James Kincaid the Third, friend of the deceased.
“Such a modest man,” one of the mourners, a middle-aged woman, lamented, looking straight at Miranda. “Wouldn’t you agree, Mrs. Kincaid?”
“Most definitely,” Miranda replied. From what she knew of Mr. Stanton, he had much to be modest about.
Everything in the stately mansion from the polished marble floors to the gold filigree ceilings was due to marrying the heiress of a fly paper empire. The rich knew how to live, and judging by the carved oak coffin edged in gold and lined in silk, they also knew how to die.
An elderly gray man approached her chair and put up his monocle. “Would you care to pay your last respects, Mrs. Kincaid?” He was stoop-shouldered and spoke with a lisp.
Miranda stood with a solemn nod and crossed the elegantly furnished parlor to an alcove near the grand piano. Tall palms stood like sentries guarding the open coffin. The deceased was perfectly laid out in a fine tailored suit, his white mustache and hair neatly trimmed. Had it not been for the silver coins concealing his eyes, one might think him merely asleep.
The last few petals of Miranda’s rose fluttered to the floor, but she dutifully laid the wilted stem by the dead man’s side. She allowed a ladylike sob to escape and drew a handkerchief to her cheek—all for the benefit of the monocle-eyed man.
Like all operatives of the Pinkerton National Detective Agency, Miranda was an expert in disguises. Blending in was the key to nabbing an unsuspecting criminal and that took a certain amount of concentration, attention to detail, and of course, acting ability.
Today, it took considerably more. It took a steadfast stomach to eat the Russian fish eggs and liver paste that the rich called food.
How can readers find you on the Internet?
Readers can reach me through my website: www.margaretbrownley.com
Gunpowder Tea is available in print and eBook and can be purchased at your favorite bookstore or on line: http://www.amazon.com/Gunpowder-Brides-Chance-Ranch-Series/dp/1595549722/ref=tmm_pap_title_0
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Gunpowder Tea - Christianbook.com
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