Friday, January 20, 2017

Release Day: Tad's Treasure

He never intended to fall in love with her…

Although I thought today might never arrive, it is release day for Tad's Treasure, the twelfth and final book in Grandma's Wedding Quilts series.

It has been an honor to participate in this series with such great authors!

Tad's Treasure is available today only for 99 cents, so be sure to download your copy from Amazon today before the price increases to $2.99.


Tad Palmer makes a promise to his dying friend to watch over the man’s wife and child. Years later, he continues to keep an eye on Posey Jacobs and her precocious little boy. The only problem is that he’s not sure his heart can withstand the vow he made when he falls in love with the widow and her son.

Posey Jacobs misses her beloved husband, but her wrenching grief has given way to hope for the future as she finds herself falling deeper and deeper in love with Tad Palmer. However, the infuriating man doesn’t seem to notice her interest and treats her as he would his sister.

Throw in a goat who thinks she’s a dog, a town full of quirky characters, and this widow has her work cut out for her if she wants one handsome cowboy to give her his heart.


This series holds a special place in my heart for several reasons. 

Quilts were a memorable part of my childhood. Both of my grandmothers quilted as did my mother. I have many fond memories of playing with my dolls beneath a quilt frame stretched across the living room as Mom and Granny quilted. When I was older, I helped cut out fabric pieces for quilts. And even though I never mastered the art of making those tiny, intricate stitches, I love quilts.  Those I have in my possession are very precious to me.  My memories of watching Mom stitch her love into quilts is one of the reasons I dedicated my book to her.

Another thing that makes this series special is that my mom is on the cover of The Prequel. If you haven't read it yet, I hope you'll check it out. 

Enjoy an Excerpt from Tad's Treasure:

“What in the…” Thane’s words lingered in the air as he gaped out the window.

Tad hurried to the front of the store and threw open the door. The two men stepped outside and watched as Nate Jacobs proudly walked down the street. A flop-eared black and white dog, its bright pink tongue lolling out of its mouth, flanked him on one side while a prancing goat wearing a wreath of flowers around her head kept step on the other.

“Hi, Uncle Tad!” the boy called, waving his hand wildly in the air.

Thane chuckled. “It looks like he stopped by a circus on his way here. Good luck with your very own Pied Piper.”

“I’m convinced the goat could have her own act,” Tad said quietly, then lifted a departing hand to Thane as the man hurried down the steps and grinned at the boy and his animal pals.

Tad hunkered down and Nate ran up the steps to him, taking a seat on Tad’s bent leg. “What brings you to town, Nater?”

“Mama and I gave Agnes a bath and she wanted everyone to see how pretty she looks.”

“Agnes or your mama?” Tad teased.

“Agnes!” Nate giggled and placed a hand on the goat’s head as it moved in front of them and bleated softly.

“I see you, Miss Agnes, and that is quite a fetching flower arrangement on your head.” Tad chuckled when the goat appeared to smile at him, eating up his words of praise.

“Mama made her the crown. She said Agnes gets to be a princess today.”

“Is that right?” Tad stood and lifted the boy in his arms then waited as the dog and goat wandered inside his shop. He shut the door and herded them all to the workroom. He pumped a bowl full of water and set it on the floor. The dog slurped at it noisily but the goat took dainty sips, as though she was trying to live up to her temporary royal title.

Tad took a breath and inhaled a perfumed scent that made his thoughts immediately go to Posey. “Did you give the goat a bath with your mama’s soap?”

Nate nodded his head, accepting the glass of water Tad gave to him. “Mama wasn’t mad, but she told me to use the kitchen soap next time instead of her bath soap. But Agnes smells pretty now, just like Mama.”

“Yes, she does,” Tad said, taking another breath before realizing how pathetic it was to be so desperate to be closer to Posey that he was inhaling deep whiffs of the goat as a substitute.

©2017 by Shanna Hatfield
  All Rights Reserved

Thank you for reading the excerpt and stopping by the blog today! 
Please check out Tad's Treasure and all the other books in this series at 

For future updates on this group of authors and what they are writing, you can sign up for our newsletter here on this page or "like" our Facebook Page.


 USA Today Bestselling Author Shanna Hatfield writes character-driven romances with relatable heroes and heroines. Her historical westerns have been described as “reminiscent of the era captured by Bonanza and The Virginian” while her contemporary works have been called “laugh-out-loud funny, and a little heart-pumping sexy without being explicit in any way.”
Convinced everyone deserves a happy ending, this hopeless romantic is out to make it happen one story at a time. When she isn’t writing or indulging in chocolate (dark and decadent, please), Shanna hangs out with her husband, lovingly known as Captain Cavedweller.

Find Shanna’s books at:

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Thursday, January 19, 2017

Release Day: GLORIA'S SONG

When love happens...
                   Do you question the cost?

Today is at long last release day for Book # 11 ~ Gloria's Song!

I have watched with growing excitement as each book in this new series is released. It is such a delight to be among such talented authors! 

Gloria's Song will be available through today at the pre-order price of $0.99 so I hope you will grab your copy now instead of waiting.


Gloria Palmer has always done the proper thing expected of her as the daughter of a shipping tycoon. The approval of her family and friends mean everything. And yet, when the perfect suitor offers for her… she hesitates.

Colin McDougal has little use for those living on the fancy side of the trolley tracks. He’s too busy managing the family pub and, in his spare time, writing down the lively tunes in his head. So, when Miss Palmer asks for his help to prepare for a music audition, he is flummoxed. What does he know of highbrow music?

But with each practice session, their feelings for each other grow. When it comes time for Gloria to make a choice between what is proper and what she desires, will she realize that if music can cross class lines—and the trolley tracks in town—perhaps it can also harmonize two hearts. 


I dedicated this book to my mother, whose name happens to be...Gloria. My mother's family hails from the Alexandria, Virginia area of the country where I have set this story. Much like the Gloria in my story, my mother is a well-versed pianist, (and also a red-head) although that is where the similarity ends. 


~ Exerpt ~

“Come with me, sir.”

Colin whipped off his cap and followed the housekeeper down the wide, but dark hallway. On either side of the hall, arched doorways revealed rooms as big as the pub. To the right, a library was filled with books from ceiling to floor. To the left was a man’s study. More books. A globe of the earth. And a case of old rifles and swords, polished until the handles and blades gleamed. So this was what the rich dallied with in their free time.

He didn’t have much free time.

The housekeeper came to a door of glass panes that allowed light to brighten that end of the hallway. She opened it and announced him. “Mr. Colin McDougal.” Then she stepped back so that he could pass.

As he stepped into the room he smelled the heavy scents of flowers and rich earth, and felt the more humid weight to the air. The solarium, the housekeeper had said. He’d never heard of such a room. On two adjacent walls, winter sunlight streamed through large windows that looked out onto a large side-lawn covered with snow that stretched down to the river where a stand of pine and maple trees stood.

Large ferns cascaded from hanging pots in three corners of the room. More ferns sat here and there along the walls, along with a small desk which held an inkpot, several pens in a jar, and stacked blank paper. What a great place to write songs! In the center, on a wicker settee, sat two women who looked like older and younger versions of each other. Both were auburn-haired beauties.

He bowed.

The older woman stood. “I am Mrs. Palmer and this is my daughter, Miss Palmer. Please have a seat.” 
She indicated a wicker chair nearby. “May I offer you refreshment, Mr. McDougal?”

“No.” He sat down. Then he amended, “No, thank you.”

“I’m sure you are wondering why we have asked you to come here.”

He glanced at the younger woman. She studied him intently, even as she held herself aloof and quiet, sitting there in her ice-blue dress. “Yes, ma’am.”

“We enjoyed your performance at the club on Christmas Eve.”

“Glad to hear it. I was helping out my friend.”

“Yes. It took us a while to track you down since he was away on holiday.”

So, the club had covered up for Tom. His friend was often on a ‘holiday.’ “Well, you found me. 

What’s this all about?”

“It’s a bit…unusual.” For the first time, Mrs. Palmer’s poised expression faltered. Whatever ‘it’ was, they were uncomfortable talking about it.

“Just out with it,” he said, hoping to encourage her. He’d say the same to his own mother, but here, he wasn’t sure what was considered appropriate. They were so stinking rich. There were probably invisible rules he knew nothing about.

A frown of disapproval darted across the older woman’s face, confirming his thoughts.

“All right then. My husband—”

“Mother. Allow me,” the younger Miss Palmer said quickly. “The way you played the piano at the club on Christmas Eve caught my father’s attention. I’m sure you remember that he spoke with you from the carriage.”

He remembered all right. But in his mind, she had been the one more interested in his playing. 
“Yeah,” he answered carefully.

“Father thought it might be beneficial for me to assess your technique at the piano—just for an hour—and possibly garner some tips to improve my playing.”

He raised his brow. “Technique? I’m not sure…”

“I want to understand your process at the keyboard,” she said quickly.

What was she talking about? His process? He just sat down and played. That’s all there was too it.

“I’ve had years of lessons. I should be able to spot your technique without difficulty and appropriate what will work for me.”

He snorted softly, finding the way she spoke amusing. “You mean like a beer master giving away his brewing secrets for nothing in return.” His cousin, Patrick, would have a time with that one. A brewers’ recipe was his signature of the craft.

Miss Palmer blinked, obviously shocked at his bluntness. “I suppose that is one way to look at it.” Then her pretty, green eyes narrowed. “I see that you find this humorous. Let me assure you…it is not.”

So, this princess wanted something from him. Interesting. She was being careful with her words, as though she had to maintain control of everything going on.

“If you ask me, it sounds foolish.”

She stiffened. “You might learn something from me as well.”

Most likely he would, but he would never admit it. Not to her. “I do all right on my own.”

“So, you are not interested?” She stood up quickly, relief smoothing out the lines above her brows. 

“Very well. Then I am sorry to have wasted your time and I’ll show you out.”

He rose to his feet, surprised to find that he was suddenly reluctant to leave. Guess he hadn’t charmed her. He’d been on the defensive since he’d arrived, when by most counts, he was a decent fellow.

“Now wait, Gloria,” Mrs. Palmer said, standing also. “You’ve hardly given Mr. McDougal a chance. 
You know your father will expect more. You need to give the young man that much.”

“I’m sure he has other things to do.”

It was like watching a game of table tennis and he wasn’t all that sure who he’d like to see win. He wasn’t sure he had any secrets to offer, but maybe something could come of this better than a wasted afternoon. The young Miss Palmer, although as cool as an iceberg, was an interesting woman. “You said before that this would be like sharing techniques. What would I get in return?”

“We have every intention of compensating you for your time today,” Mrs. Palmer said, and then added, “Monetarily.

That last brought him up short. “You are saying…you’re going to pay me?” They probably had a grand piano. A nice one. What he wouldn’t give to hear one of his own songs played on a really good piano. The one at the pub was in a constant state of needing tuning no matter how much he worked with it.

“Yes. Whatever you made at the club on Christmas Eve. How’s that?”

“For an hour of playing the piano?” It was generous. And he could use the money. It didn’t take him more than a second to decide. “Sure. I’ll do it.”

Miss Palmer’s eyes widened and she turned to her mother, shutting him out. “This is absurd! You actually expect me to go through with this, Mother? With him? It’s embarrassing!”

“Only as far as it will appease your father. Nothing beyond that. You’ll remember I hoped you’d forget the entire thing and agree to the engagement.”

Colin clenched his teeth, no longer amused. He didn’t care to be talked over as though he was invisible. “I’ve got work to do back at the pub.” He took a step toward the door.

Miss Palmer glared at him.

And in that instant, he noticed a moment of defeat in her eyes. Between her mother and him, she didn’t stand a chance. And there was something else—a vulnerability that hadn’t been there before. It tugged at him. She was tied up in knots about something and it went beyond an hour of ‘swapping secrets’ over a piano.

“What can it hurt, Miss Palmer? It could be fun.” He threw the words out, a soft challenge. He knew the last was a bit cocky but hey, it was a chance to play on a piano that probably didn’t have any chipped keys and stayed in tune.
©2017 by Kathryn Albright
  All Rights Reserved

I hope you enjoyed this excerpt! 
Please check out Gloria's Song and all the other books in this series at 

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Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Woooo Hoooo - It's release day for Chase's Story - Book 10 of Grandma's Wedding Quilts

Chase wanted no part of going to college or following in his father’s footsteps and becoming a Doctor.  His dream involved cattle and horses and he follows that dream to the Arizona Territory. 

One cold, rainy day his life takes a turn when he finds himself looking down the muzzle of a Colt Walker barely being held up by a woman who has been badly beaten along with her three-year old son.  Will she be someone Chase could let into his heart or someone who could destroy his life

A bit of a teaser....

The sun was setting and Chase was hopeful he’d get home before dark. His eyes drooped and he gave himself the luxury of letting his head drop forward. He wasn’t sure if he fell asleep but the wagon jolted to an abrupt stop.

     Chase snapped his head up and found he was looking down the muzzle of a gun. More surprising was the woman holding the gun. She was soaking wet, with an eye swollen shut, dried blood coming from a cut somewhere under dirty brown hair, a lip that was split and deep, purplish bruises covering most of one side of her face. Though she stood about five and a half feet tall, she was so thin, a stiff wind wouldn’t have too hard a time blowing her to the ground. 

     Her dress was one of an indiscriminate color, it was so faded. One sleeve was completely ripped away at the shoulder and the waist was also torn. She had the horse’s bridle in one hand and the gun in the other.

     Chase sat up a little taller and pulled the break on the wagon. “Ma’am, you don’t look too good, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

     Her bottom lip trembled. “I…I’m sorry, mister, but I need your wagon and whatever water and food is on it. You can keep your cow.” A tear slipped down one of her cheeks. “I’ve got a little one who’s sick and got to get him out of here.”

     Chase pursed his lips and casually leaned his elbows on his knees. “Is that a Colt Walker? They stopped making those some twenty years ago.”

     She ignored his questions. “You need to get down.” 

     The arm holding the gun started to shake. “I’ll shoot, mister. Don’t think I won’t.”

     Chase shook his head. “I don’t think so. You see, the Walker is a single action and the lever needs to be cocked with each shot.” He crossed his arms. “You will need both hands to do that and it looks like it’s weighing a bit too heavy for you now.”

     She chewed on the good side of her lower lip, fear and indecision written all over her face. When she turned to look over her shoulder Chase jumped from the buckboard, knocking them both to the ground. She screamed as he landed on top of her. He grabbed the gun before rolling back up to his feet.

     The woman, now covered in mud, curled into a fetal position and sobbed. Chase put the gun under the bench of the buckboard and bent to pick her up. She moaned when he laid her in the hard wagon. He reached over her to grab an old blanket when her hand shot out, grabbing his arm with a ferocity he didn’t think she possessed.

     “Timmy,” she gasped, holding tight. “Please,” she begged, a sob catching in her throat, “you have to get him.”

  Have you seen all the books/authors involved in this wonderful series?  Take a look here -

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Hope to see you there!