Showing posts with label Linda Yezak. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Linda Yezak. Show all posts

Monday, July 16, 2018

RIDE TO THE ALTAR - Linda W Yezak - One Free Book on This Blog, Plus More!

Welcome back, Linda. God has really been moving in your writing life. What do you see on the horizon?
I'm amazed at how involved God gets in my work, especially my lighter pieces, like the novels in the Circle Bar Ranch series. He always supplies me with the verses I need.

However, in November, Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas will be releasing A Southern Season: Four Tales from a Front Porch Swing, a collection which holds my Ice Melts in Spring, the novella God became most involved with. Writing this was a far different experience from anything else I've ever done, and I have no other way of describing it but God-driven. I'm looking forward to its release through LPC's Firefly Southern Fiction imprint.

That’s wonderful, Linda. I’ll want to feature that on my blog, too. My next book release was like you’re talking about. God gave me the story, which was requested by a publisher. I only had a short time to write it, and God led me through it so much. That kind of writing is very exciting. Tell us a little about your family.
I'm an Isaiah 54:1 woman wedded to a man who already had five kids. By the time we got married, most of them were grown and gone with families of their own—which means I was also an automatic grandma. Now that we live so far away from everyone, we don't get to see them often. We have great-grands who we have to re-introduce ourselves to because we don't get to see them often enough.

Has your writing changed your reading habits? If so, how?
Being both a writer and an editor has changed the way I read. I've discovered that I no longer have patience for books that aren't well written, but when I come across excellence, I tend to study technique. I don't read the how-to-write books very often anymore, but I learn so very much from other authors. Cindy Sproles' Liar's Winter has become my new textbook. The depth of her POV, the exquisite development of her characters, the sense of shivering with cold in the Appalachians along with the cast of the tale—lands, Cindy can write!

I’ll have to check that one out. What are you working on right now?
Aside from promoting my latest, Ride to the Altar, I'm trying my hand at historical romance with Loving a Harvey Girl, for LPC's Smitten imprint.

I love Harvey girl stories. What outside interests do you have?
Just about everything. Mostly, I love people and being with them, hearing their stories, laughing. But I love to fish, enjoy cooking and canning and other food preservation techniques, watching little league baseball. I look forward to the Little League World Series every year.

How do you choose your settings for each book?
For my western romance series, I used the ranch my mother's family used to own. I'd been up there only two or three times before we had to sell it, but it stayed ingrained in my mind. Such a beautiful place. As for Ice Melts in Spring, my “back porch swing” is actually a chair on the balcony of a beach house near Matagorda Bay, Texas. Billy and I rented a house there with some family members and got to stay long enough for the images to stick in my head.

If you could spend an evening with one historical person, who would it be and why?
Since I'm dabbling in historical fiction, I'd love a sit-down with Laura Ingalls Wilder. I've always felt I am a bit of an anachronism anyway, always wishing I'd been born in the little house in the prairie. If I'm going to write about that era, I'd love to chat with someone who actually did—and understands the frustrations writers face!

What is the one thing you wish you had known before you started writing novels?
That getting the book written is the easy part.

What new lessons is the Lord teaching you right now?
Lately, He's been letting me know that I'm a little too much like the Hebrews wandering in the desert. All complaint, little praise and thanksgiving. Considering everything He has done for me, I'm totally ashamed of myself. Yet, whenever I look at where I am in various aspects of my life and where I want to be, I seem to let my tongue wag again. How thankful I am that He's patient with me!

His patient love is one of my favorite things about Him. What are the three best things you can tell other authors to do to be successful?
To be a successful writer, study the craft. To be a successful author, recognize the need for a professional editor. To be a successful published author, study the business end of this career inside and out.

Tell us about the featured book.
Ride to the Altar is the third novel in the Circle Bar Ranch series, which depicts the love story between Talon Carlson and Patricia Talbert from meeting to wedding.

In Ride to the Altar, I throw overwhelming hurdles into Patricia and Talon's path to wedlock. A past love, murdered years ago and now only a file in an unsolved case, returns to haunt Talon. A long-held grudge demands release, yet Patricia has no idea how very deep it runs until she confronts her mother. An attack against the Circle Bar Ranch itself leaves cattle dead and one of its hands injured.

Different from all the other novels in this series, Ride to the Altar forces the two to face their pasts individually before they can face the future together.

Please give us the first page of the book.
A handshake is the initial measure of a man. The grip provides the best and the worst first impressions. Impossible through Skype, so Talon Carlson determined to use the alternative: steady, eye-to-eye contact.

He scrubbed his hands down his jean-clad thighs. Funny how he could propose to Patricia Talbert in an arena of seventy-five thousand avid bull-riding fans, yet he shook like a wobble-kneed colt in front of the blank computer screen. But he was just old fashioned enough to want to do this the right way.

He poked a button, Skype connected, and Patricia’s father, Dale McAllister appeared on the monitor. At six o’clock in the morning Eastern time, the U.S. Senator from New York wore a suit and tie and looked ready for his Monday commute to DC. The somber attire complimented his authoritarian expression. Gun-metal gray hair held silver wisps at the temples, and dark eyes bore an intensity matching his profession—or matching a father who was meeting his only daughter’s fiancĂ© for the first time. Didn’t matter that the daughter was over thirty and the new owner of a two-thousand-acre ranch in Texas.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, sir,” Talon said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Believe me, I’ve heard a lot about you too.” Mr. McAllister’s voice sounded deep, gruff. Intimidating.

“Yes, sir. I’m sure you have.” He gulped. “Sorry that we have to meet like this. We intended to fly to New York—”

“Yes, Patty told me. No need to apologize. I understand you have a responsibility to your church, and performing funeral ceremonies is part of it.” The senator offered a sympathetic nod.
“Sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” The funeral had been for one of the most beloved women in the county, Beth Griffith. Her husband, Griff, had asked Talon personally to perform the eulogy. As a bullfighter, Grif had saved Talon’s hide more than once, so there had been no question that Talon would say yes, even if it meant missing their flight to New York.

Mr. McAllister leaned back, though the distance between his face and the monitor didn’t lessen the effect of his scrutiny. “I understand you have something to ask me.”

“Yes, sir,” Talon squeaked, then cleared his throat. He tried again, clasping his hands between his knees to stop their shaking. “Mr. McAllister, I love your daughter, and she loves me. I’d like your permission to marry her. Your permission and your blessing.”

Pat’s father tapped his fingers together. “You know she’s been married before.”

“Yes, sir. I know.”

“You know she was hurt.”

“Pretty badly, yes.”

“I never did like that boy.”

Nothing Talon could say to that. Since the older man’s gaze seemed distant, best to just wait him out. He would never hurt Pat the way Kent Talbert had, but proof accompanies action. Mr. McAllister would know the kind of stuff Talon was made of as time went on. His saying so now wouldn’t be convincing.

“Sometimes I think if he hadn’t died, heaven help me, I would’ve killed him myself.” The senator focused on him again. “You know what was wrong with him?”

Besides the fact he was a no-good, opportunistic, cheatin’ womanizer, no. “Got my thoughts. What do you think?”

“He was a city boy. City folks—especially rich city folks—have different ideas from those of us raised on farms and ranches. Different priorities.”

This seemed strange from a man who divided his time between DC and New York, but Talon nodded. “Yes, sir.” After all, Mr. McAllister had been raised on a ranch, and it was his brother, Jake, who’d willed this one to Pat.

“I want a man for Patty who would make her happiness his top priority.”

“As it should be.”

“Are you that man?”

That’s a really good hook. I can hardly wait to read the book now. How can readers find you on the Internet?
Facebook: Author Page
Twitter: @LindaYezak
Goodreads: Linda W Yezak


Linda is offering a giveaway prize to one lucky entrant on her blog tour! As pictured, the prize includes a signed print version of the series, a 16-ounce Christian cowboy mug, a horseshoe picture frame, a Ph. 4:13 stretch bracelet, a cute set of magnetic page markers, and a Texas Rubiks cube just for fun. All you have to do to enter is to leave a comment.

The more posts you comment on during my tour, the better the chance you have of winning the drawing! If you'd like to play along, the next blog to check is Cindy Ervin Huff’s Jubilee Writer blog, and tomorrow (7/18) check Cecilia Marie Pulliam's blog.

The winner will be announced Monday, August 6, on Linda's blog, 777 Peppermint Place.

Thank you, Linda, for allowing me to share this book with my blog readers. I know they will be as eager as I am to read it.

Readers, here are links to the book.
Ride to the Altar: a Circle Bar Ranch novel (Volume 3) - Paperback
Ride to the Altar: a Circle Bar Ranch novel - Kindle

Leave a comment for a chance to win a free copy of the book on this blog. You must follow these instructions to be in the drawing. Please tell us where you live, at least the state or territory or country if outside North America. (Comments containing links may be subject to removal by blog owner.)

Void where prohibited; the odds of winning depend on the number of entrants. Entering the giveaway is considered a confirmation of eligibility on behalf of the enterer in accord with these rules and any pertaining local/federal/international laws.

The only notification you’ll receive is the winner post on this blog. So be sure to check back a week from Saturday to see if you won. You will have 4 weeks from the posting of the winners to claim your book.

If you’re reading this on Goodreads, Google+, Feedblitz, Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin, or Amazon, please come to the blog to leave your comment if you want to be included in the drawing. Here’s a link:

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

THE FINAL RIDE - Linda W Yezak - One Free Ebook

Dear Readers, I’m thrilled to feature another book by fellow Texas author, Linda Yezak. The Final Ride took first place in the Texas Association of Authors Christian Fiction category this year. I’ve been an online friend with Linda for several years, and she was the speaker at our local ACFW – DFW chapter recently. I really enjoyed the time we spent together.

Welcome back, Linda. Why do you write the kind of books you do?
Almost everything I write is like me: Christian and generally uplifting and lighthearted. I love illustrating God's principles in action, especially when they pertain to bringing those who have strayed back into the fold.

Besides when you came to know the Lord, what is the happiest day in your life?
The day I knew for certain God had picked Billy for me. After a disaster of a marriage and ten years of “never again,” God gave me the perfect mate.

He’s good like that. How has being published changed your life?
It turned me into a professional. That may sound like a simplistic response, but it covers every aspect of the change being published brings into one's life. I no longer have ten years to finish my book, can no longer “wait for inspiration.” I can't live in anonymity anymore; I have to keep myself and my books visible. I have to actively seek earning opportunities. Basically, I have to remember that I'm running a business. I file taxes and have a Federal EIN. I'm not in Kansas anymore.

What are you reading right now?
A Fool and His Monet, by Sandra Orchard.

What is your current work in progress?
My editor at Firefly (an imprint of Lighthouse of the Carolinas) has Ice Melts in Spring, a novella for the collection Southern Seasons which releases in November 2018. While she works on it, I'm striving to finish Ride to the Altar, the third in the Circle Bar Ranch series that was supposed to come out this year. After just announcing that I no longer have the leisure to finish a book in ten years, I admit I'm beginning to wonder whether this one will take exactly that before I can write “the end.”

What would be your dream vacation?
I have two. Eating my way across Italy in stretch pants and spending a substantial amount of time in every state in the United States. Neither is likely to happen, but a girl can dream.

How do you choose your settings for each book?
I tend to restrict my settings to places I've been to, and the bulk of those places are in Texas, though I've visited most of the southern states. Researching settings on the internet doesn't let me know how the place tastes or smells. Doesn't allow me a sense of its pulse. Can't let me hear the accents or bird calls. In other words, I can't get an honest impression of the location. For this reason, I tend to stay with places I'm familiar with. It's also the reason I'd like to visit all 50 states.

If you could spend an evening with one person who is currently alive, who would it be and why?
Funny to see this question. Just this morning, I was thinking I'd love to spend time learning at the feet of Kay Arthur, of Precept Ministry fame. I'm not sure an evening would be enough, but it would be a start.

What are your hobbies, besides writing and reading? 
I spend a lot of time cross-stitching baby blankets for the boom our family is having. Aside from that, I love to cook and enjoy food preservation techniques, like canning, pickling, jelly-, jam-, and butter-making, but I would rather be fishing than virtually anything else.

What is your most difficult writing obstacle, and how do you overcome it?
Right now, with Ride to the Altar, I'm having a structure problem. The novel includes not a plot and a subplot, but what amounts to two plots. If I don't find the point where the two merge soon, I may have to rip the thing apart and start over. Again. But I think I'm getting closer. We'll see.

What advice would you give to a beginning author?
Study the craft. There are so many other things I would say to beginners—like build your platform, learn the business, etc.—but I always go back to my original advice: Study.

Tell us about the featured book.
Aunt Adele Cameron makes her debut in The Final Ride, the second in the Circle Bar Ranch series. Her purpose for living is to convince Patricia Talbert to return to Manhattan and leave the ranch she inherited and the man who runs it behind in Texas. But all her comical, blundering attempts aren't nearly as effective as Talon Carlson's broken promise. How can Patricia accept yet another man who can't keep his word?

Please give us a peek inside the book.
Chapter One
Patricia Talbert leaned against the back fender of the old farm truck and admired the flex of Talon Carlson’s muscles as he secured a trailer to the hitch. One of the nearby towns held a cattle auction every Thursday, from early in the morning until everything sold, and the Circle Bar Ranch needed a few more head.

One of the hands had already driven off in a rig, but Talon had lingered behind, no doubt for a few more moments alone with her. Although she’d decided not to go this time, she didn’t mind having a few more moments alone with him either.

She watched his strong hands deftly connect the wires for the truck’s back lights to the trailer. “It’s going to be different around here without Chance to help, isn’t it?”

“No different than it will be for you without Marie.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Chance Davis.” The names sifted through her lips with a sigh. The past Saturday, her best friend had married Talon’s best friend here at the Circle Bar ranch, and now they were off on a two-week honeymoon.

Talon stepped over the hitch and stood deliciously close. His lips crept up in that lopsided grin she loved. “What about us? Ready to get married?”

“No. Not yet. I’ve had all the wedding insanity I can take for a while.” She traced the strong line of his smooth-shaven jaw with her finger. “I’m not in a hurry.”

“Whatever my lady wants. I can wait.” He kissed her gently, making her heart flutter, then adjusted his hat. “I’d better get moving, or the auction will be over before I get there. You sure you don’t want to come with me?”

“No, I think I’ll stay here and enjoy the quiet for a change. Bring home some good cows.”

He gave her another peck. “Always.”

He walked to his truck, keeping her mesmerized with each step. That man could make a feed sack look good.

Once he drove out of sight, she rubbed her shoulders and curled her lips between her teeth. The past several months had been filled with house renovations and Marie’s wedding plans–not to mention a quick trip back to New York to help with her father’s US Senate re-election campaign. But now that everything was over and all the wedding guests were finally gone, she had no clue what to do with herself. Come to think of it, she’d never been totally alone on her own ranch since she inherited it from Uncle Jake the previous year. If she intended to give up her life in Manhattan and live in Texas, she’d better figure out where she fit in. Discover what her new “normal” looked like.
Normal. Routine. The words serenaded her. After all the insanity of the past year, nothing appealed to her more than landing in a nice, peaceful rut for a while.

But what exactly would her role be out here? Thirty-five seemed a bit old to be wondering what she’d do when she grew up, but when Uncle Jake left her the ranch he and Aunt Loretta had spent their lives building, Patricia discovered she had options–stay in New York and work for her father, or come here and–what? Pretend she knew how to run a ranch?

Since she had no intention of going back East, she may as well carve out a place for herself here, doing … something.

At the equipment shed, the senior ranch hand, Frank Simmons, tinkered with the tractor engine, but she knew nothing about mechanical repair. Inside, Chef and Consuela Garcia took care of the meals and household chores that made Patricia shudder. The vegetable garden on the side of the ranch house appeared neglected; no one had worked it in a couple of weeks. She strode to its edge, crouched between a row of peppers and another of tomatoes, and yanked what she hoped was a weed. Gardening hadn’t been a part of her life back home. Maybe she’d be safe if she pulled only what grew between the mounds.

The soil felt moist, and the weeds came out with the simplest tug. She could get used to this mindless work. She could see ahead what needed to be done and see the progress behind, unlike other, seemingly endless things she’d done for her father. This chore held a purpose. She’d keep the weeds from choking out the vegetables that everyone would get to enjoy. Simple. Wonderful. She’d definitely add gardening to the top of her most-favorite-rut-activities list. If this was what her new normal felt like, she’d wrap it around herself like a security blanket.

“Patricia!”

She twisted around and gaped at a chic, older woman standing at the yard’s edge. “Aunt Adele?”

Looking as if she’d just stepped from a fashion magazine for women over sixty, Adele Cameron held her arms wide. “Surprise!”

Patricia brushed herself off and hurried toward her. Adele had always been her favorite of her mother’s sisters. “I thought you flew back to New York after the wedding.”

An elegant flick of her hand dismissed the notion. “I spent a few days in Dallas. Did a little shopping.” She posed like a model and executed a runway turn, inviting Patricia to admire the cowl-neck tunic and straight-leg slacks she wore over two-inch pumps. “It’s not Manhattan, but it’s not bad either.”

“I’m glad you found something you liked.” Patricia hid her smile. She and Marie had overdressed for the ranch when they first arrived, too. Not practical, but then they hadn’t expected to stay, much less fall in love with the cowboys running the place. “What else did you buy?”

“Oh, several things.” She pressed her key fob toward a burgundy Cadillac parked in front of the house. “Come see.”

The Caddy’s trunk opened. Plump store bags, bearing only the finest in fashion logos, sat atop the flowered canvas of matching luggage.

Patricia poked through one of the sacks. “I’m anxious to see what you bought.”

“Why don’t we carry it in so you can see better?” A sly grin lifted her lips. “And the luggage, too.”

Patricia squealed. “Does this mean you’re staying awhile?”

“Yes, dear. And I’m so happy you’re excited about it.” She patted Patricia’s cheek. “Now, maybe you can get your man to help us.”

“My man? Do you mean Talon? He’s not here.”

“Not Talon. Your man–your servant, or whatever you call him.” She stared pointedly at Frank, who leaned against the tractor, watching them as he rubbed his hands on a rag.

“He’s not a serv–”

“We have company?” Consuela Garcia called from the shadows of the massive front porch. In her brightly embroidered Mexican dress, the housekeeper-slash-cook descended the three steps and waddled toward them, eyeing the newcomer curiously. She bypassed the front walk and crossed the lush grass in her sandaled feet.

Patricia rested one hand on Consuela’s shoulder and waved the other toward their guest. “You remember my aunt, Adele Cameron? She was here for the wedding.”

“Si, I remember.”

“She’ll be staying with us for a while.”

“Okay, then. We will put you in the guest room. It’s clean now. Fresh sheets. I’ll help you.” Consuela advanced toward the trunk and gawked at the load inside. But she swiftly recovered with a congenial smile. “What you want to take in?”

“I’ll need it all,” Aunt Adele said. “And some of it will have to be ironed.”

“I can do it tomorrow when I do everyone else’s.” Consuela grabbed the store bags, then led their guest to the house, the older woman giving specific instructions as to how she wanted her ironing done. Aunt Adele had always been particular about her wardrobe.

With the sacks gone, Patricia got a better look at the luggage. Aunt Adele must’ve brought a year’s worth of clothes. Odd, since she was only supposed to be coming for the wedding this past weekend.

Frank came beside her and ran his fingers over his bushy gray mustache. “Don’t you Yankee women know how to pack light?”

“I guess not.”

He looped the strap of a bag over each shoulder, then hefted out a large case and jerked up the handle. “Best get this inside.”

Patricia grabbed the cosmetic case and slammed the trunk closed. “I can’t imagine why she brought so much. Looks like she’s moving in.”

“Well, she’s your aunt, ain’t she? Maybe she just wants some time with you.” He toted his burden toward the house. “Better show your man where to put these.”

She grimaced. Frank might have a hitch in his gait, but his hearing seemed impeccable. She scurried to catch up. “I’m sorry about that. Aunt Adele’s used to having a full household staff available. I guess all the high society trappings make her a bit of a snob.”

“Don’t worry about it too much. We’ve had snobs around here before.” He paused at the steps. “I reckon y’all turned out all right.”

Grinning at his light-hearted jab, she went around him to open the door. “Oh, Marie and I weren’t that bad, were we?”

He raised a craggy brow to the brim of his straw hat and drawled, “Where do you want these?”

She swatted his arm playfully, then pointed to the second floor. “First door on the left.”

He took the cosmetic case from her and headed to the stairs. Amazingly strong for such a wiry man. She watched him carry his cumbersome load up the steps until he safely landed on the second floor, then followed the sound of women’s voices through the living room. The sweet smell of Marie’s wedding flowers had finally begun to fade, replaced now with a vague hint of the spices Consuela used for the enchiladas she’d planned for lunch. As Patricia passed through the dining room and neared the kitchen, the scent of cumin grew stronger. So did the voices.

She stopped at the door. Aunt Adele stood formally erect, hands clamped together at her waist, nose up like a stodgy aristocrat. Red faced and muttering in Spanish, Consuela whisked a wooden spoon around her pot as if she chased a devil from its depths.

Patricia ventured into the room. “What’s going on?”

After a heartbeat pause, both women clamored for her attention, each talking louder and faster until finally she covered her ears. “Stop!”

The two glowered at each other like contestants in a wrestling ring.

Consuela pointed the dripping spoon at Aunt Adele. “Get her out of my kitchen.”

Patricia bit back questions she knew better than to ask when Consuela’s brows were drawn that tightly.

She wrapped an arm around her aunt’s stiff shoulders and guided her out. “Let’s get you up to your room. You must be tired after traveling this morning. Did you drive all the way from Dallas? That’s quite a–”

“Are you going to let the hired help talk to me like that?” The harsh whisper could no doubt be heard in the kitchen.

Patricia marshaled her farther into the living room. “Consuela isn’t so much hired help as she is family. She and her husband Chef have been with this ranch for years.” She stopped walking and faced her aunt. “Frank isn’t hired help either. He’s wise and kind and special to me, and I’d like for you to treat him with respect.”

Adele’s crimson face contorted as she struggled to maintain her dignity, or tamp her temper down, Patricia couldn’t tell which. She’d never seen this usually dignified woman behave like a spoiled diva before.

From their left, Frank entered the living room and passed through toward the kitchen. Judging by the way he kept his head down, he’d probably heard their conversation. Between his sharp ears and her aunt’s stage whispers, Patricia doubted he’d missed a word.

“Yes, perhaps I should retire to my room.” Aunt Adele’s tone could frost glass.

“Now, don’t be angry. The ranch is just different from what you’re used to. We don’t have hired hands, we have … family on salaries. Everyone is close.” She drifted her hand down her aunt’s arm. “I want you to love it here like I do. It would mean so much to me.”

She sniffed. “I see I have a lot to learn about the way things are done here in Texas.”

“Yes, so did I. Still do.”

Aunt Adele’s expression softened as she took Patricia’s hands. “Why don’t you come home, sweetheart? You’re not suited for this life.”

Patricia shook her head. The fresh air, the quiet nights, the slower pace. Talon’s muscles rippling and glistening in the sun as he lifted square bales for the horses. If only Aunt Adele knew how very suited she was for this life. “I’m happy here.”

She escorted her aunt to the guest room and helped store her things, then left her to nap away the travel weariness. Maybe after some rest, she’d be her old, fun self again.

Meanwhile, she needed to tend to the ruffled hen downstairs.

In the kitchen, Consuela seemed calmer and was laughing at something Frank had said. He leaned against the counter with a glass half full of water and watched Consuela caramelize an onion in a sizzling cast iron skillet. Her husband, Chef Garcia, had apparently entered through the back door. He rolled a chicken mixture in corn tortillas for enchiladas and smiled at Patricia as she entered.

Patricia retrieved a head of lettuce from the fridge. “I’m sorry about my aunt. I hope she didn’t upset you too much.”

Consuela’s lips puckered. She looked at Patricia from the corner of her eye. “Do you know what she wanted?”

Patricia shook her head.

She crossed her arms over her chubby belly. “She wanted dinner served at seven.”

“That’s just what she’s used to back in–”

“And she wanted breakfast served at nine.”

“Well, yes, like I was saying–”

“In bed.”

“Oh.” Patricia lowered her eyes. “Well, you know, she’s from New York …”

“She is in Texas now.” Consuela gave the onions a stir, then tapped the spoon on the side of the skillet loud enough to make the metal ring. “I am not her cook.”

“No–”

“I do things the way I do things, and she will eat or not.”

“Of course.”

“You told her?”

“I tried. I’m not sure she understands how different things are here.”

“She will learn. Next time she tells me what to do”–she nudged her husband– “Chef and me, we will go on vacation. Someone else can cook till she leaves.”

Patricia winced. Other than the Garcias, Marie was the only one who knew how to cook, and she was on her honeymoon.

“Be patient with her. I’ll make sure she understands.”

“See that you do.”

Patricia began shredding the lettuce. “You two just got off to a bad start, Consuela. You’ll like her.” She glanced at Frank. “You will too. Really. You’ll see.”

“Ain’t got a reason not to like her. I guess she don’t remember, but I took her for a few twirls around the dance floor after the weddin’.”

“You did? I thought your knees wouldn’t allow dancing.”

“Oh, trust me, I paid for it. They weren’t too happy.” He glanced up at the clock. “How much time before lunch?”

“Straight up twelve, Frank, you know that.” Consuela frowned at him. “Long as I been cookin’ in this kitchen, it’s been straight up twelve.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He bussed her cheek and clapped Chef on the shoulder. “Gives me about twenty minutes to put my tools up. Wrecked the best part of my mornin’ playing the role of Pat’s man.”

Consuela hooted and set a huge grin between her cheeks.

Patricia rolled her eyes. “Next time, close your ears.”

Wasn’t it just a couple of hours ago she’d dreamed of finding her rut? Of discovering her new normal? Now, apparently, her primary job would be to keep peace between Aunt Adele and Consuela for the duration of her aunt’s visit. How long would that be?

Love the beginning! How can my readers find you on the Internet?
Facebook Fan Page:  http://dld.bz/LWYFacebookPage  
Twitter: @LindaYezak

Thank you, Linda, for sharing this book with us. I have a lot of readers who will love your books.

Readers, here are links to the book.
The Final Ride: A Circle Bar Ranch Novel - paperback
The Final Ride: A Circle Bar Ranch Novel (Circle Bar Ranch Series Book 2) - Kindle

Leave a comment for a chance to win a free copy of the ebook. You must follow these instructions to be in the drawing. Please tell us where you live, at least the state or territory or country if outside North America. (Comments containing links may be subject to removal by blog owner.)

Void where prohibited; the odds of winning depend on the number of entrants. Entering the giveaway is considered a confirmation of eligibility on behalf of the enterer in accord with these rules and any pertaining local/federal/international laws.

The only notification you’ll receive is the winner post on this blog. So be sure to check back a week from Saturday to see if you won. You will have 4 weeks from the posting of the winners to claim your book.

If you’re reading this on Goodreads, Google+, Feedblitz, Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin, or Amazon, please come to the blog to leave your comment if you want to be included in the drawing. Here’s a link:

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

GIVE THE LADY A RIDE - Linda Yezak - Free Book

Welcome, Linda. Tell us how much of yourself you write into your characters.
Most of my heroines have been wounded in the past in bad marriages or relationships, as I was, and they all receive the blessing of a second chance at love, as I did. That is the primary commonality between me and my characters. I also draw on my experiences to illustrate character emotions, but that's as far as the similarities go. My characters lead far more interesting lives than I do.

What is the quirkiest thing you have ever done?
I don't know how quirky this is, but the most impulsive thing I've done in recent years is to pull off the highway on the way to Mom's house, cross the cattle guard to a rodeo ranch, and request an interview with the former professional bull rider who owns it. I've always worked under that popular assumption, “It never hurts to ask,” and every time, I prove it true. The interview produced wonderful insight into the world of cowboys, bull riders, rodeo, and ranching.

When did you first discover that you were a writer?
I'm not sure I can remember back that far. I think I was a story-teller the moment I learned to talk. I probably started writing soon after.

Tell us the range of the kinds of books you enjoy reading.
Oh, goodness! I love just about everything—I'm even learning to love fantasy. I'm not too crazy about Sci-Fi, and there are some genres I simply won't touch. Otherwise I love it all, from classic to contemporary and everything in between, particularly if it's well-written.

How do you keep your sanity in our run, run, run world?
We're assuming that I have kept my sanity, which is still in doubt. On days when I do feel like I have a handle on things, it's because I've made to-do lists and have been able to follow it. However, when putting out brushfires usurps my list, I tiptoe along the edge of sanity.

How do you choose your characters’ names?
By their personality traits and socio-economic status, and by the setting. One lady who read my new release, Give the Lady a Ride, commented on the names of my male characters (Talon and Chance), saying they were “over the top.” Ride is set on a ranch in Texas, and bull riding plays a major part in the plot.  While “Talon” remains a unique nickname, “Chance” is fairly common in the world of riding and rodeo, and I've seen some names that were far more “over the top” than these. The names are appropriate for the setting.

What is the accomplishment that you are most proud of?
Ten years of “I'll never do that again!” lapsed between my failed marriage and my new love, so the fact Billy and I will be celebrating our twentieth wedding anniversary this year is my biggest honor, blessing, and pride. Of course, being published now ranks right up there!

If you were an animal, which one would you be, and why?
That's a toss-up between river otter and dolphin. I love the water, love to swim and fish, but I sunburn so easily, I'm limited to how much outdoor activity I can participate in. I'd want to be one of the water critters that has a huge personality and lots of fun in life.

What is your favorite food?
The kind that's edible. There are few things I don't like; I'm pickier about how something is prepared than I am about what it is.

What is the problem with writing that was your greatest roadblock, and how did you overcome it?
For the longest time, structure was killing me. I read James Scott Bell's book about it, and that helped, but it wasn't until I got Larry Brooks's ebook about structure that the barrier totally shattered.

Tell us about the featured book.
New York socialite Patricia Talbert has lost faith in herself, but it isn't until she comes to the Circle Bar Ranch that she learns the faith she lost in God is a far deeper problem. In Give the Lady a Ride, Patricia tries to regain that faith by riding on the back of a bull—and a handsome cowboy is intent on teaching her how.

Please give us the first page of the book.

Chapter One

“Company’s coming!” Chance Davis’s voice rang over the stomping hooves of bawling calves in the holding pen at the Circle Bar Ranch.

Talon Carlson pulled open the head gate and freed a freshly vaccinated steer to allow in another bull calf. He looked where Chance pointed to a white dust cloud rising from the caliche ranch road.

Ears perked and tongues flapping, the border collies tore out of the pens, scattering the calves, and streaked toward a silver Mercedes pulling up the drive. The car slowed to a stop in front of the main house, and two classy-looking women climbed out, a tall brunette and a short blonde. In their high heels and dressy slacks, neither looked suited for a ranch.

Chance rode his bay closer to Talon and tipped back his Co-op Feed cap. “Reckon they’re lost?”

“Don’t know, but I guess I’d better find out.” He dusted off his jeans and strode toward the pipe-rail gate. He called back to Chance in the pen. “Soon as y’all are done here, get the guys to throw some hay in with the culls. Tide ’em over ’til the auction.”

Talon made his way through the maze of fencing and headed toward the ranch house, where the dogs jumped on the ladies as if greeting long lost friends. The two ritzy women pushed at them, shouting Down! and Get off of me! while they brushed off their fancy britches and scurried onto the front porch.

Nothing like having to shoo away enthusiastic face-lickers to shatter a woman’s snobby appearance.

How can readers find you on the Internet?
I have two blogs: in 777 Peppermint Place (http://lindayezak.com) readers can learn about me and what's going on in my crazy life, but in my shared site AuthorCulture (http://authorculture.blogspot.com), they can learn writing tips and techniques from me and four other published authors. Aside from these two sites, my favorite hangout is Facebook. I'm also on LinkedIn, Goodreads, and christianwriters.com.


Thank you, Linda, for stopping by to chat with me.



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