(6) $50 Amazon or B&N Gift Cards
Comment with your name and email to be entered into the Grand Prize drawing. Comments without name and email will not be counted. Commenting on each and every stop will increase your chances of winning.
Winners for the (6) Grand Prizes will be drawn and announced on THE ROMANCE TROUPE blog by June 10th.
Along with this giveaway, I am also giving away a eBook copy of my novel, The Woman on the Painted Horse.
All commenters on this post will be entered into a drawing and a winner will be selected by Random.org and also announced on June 10th.
I decided that for the A Summer of Love Blog Hop, I would share an excerpt of my debut novel THE WOMAN ON THE PAINTED HORSE. I loved having the chance to write William and Alexandra’s love story. A tender romance that weaves through the social disparity in Deep South 1861–a time where blackmail, money, and greed could be more powerful than love.
I unwrapped myself from the blanket and walked to my dresser. Hidden in the top drawer under corsets and stockings lay a wooden box, the home of a tiny chest key. Silver glimmered through my fingertips as the chest unlocked and opened to a wooden bottom lined with an array of small, tattered leather-bound books.
I reached for the one in the corner, untied the royal blue ribbon, and opened it to the pages I had written over the last few weeks. The words were a profound reminder never to forget how I felt the afternoon at the O’Brien’s store, the afternoon William arrived with supplies for sale, and the stolen nights in his company.
The mind thinks. It schemes, plots ideas for rebellion, winning a war, or committing crimes. It organizes, planning for crops, arranging parties, or entertaining guests. It speculates, questioning the reasons of why, where, who, what, and how. It comprehends answers, understands ramifications, and finds solutions. It develops through experience, and becomes intrigued with finding the answers it seeks—soaking up information like dry soil soaks up water.
The mind thinks.
But, the heart feels. It feels love, happiness, sadness, and loss. The heart does not think. It does not question or reason. It senses emotion, experiences pleasure, suffers pain, and bears heartache. It fights with the mind in a constant agonizing war endured every day between emotion and logic, a battle over what lies at one’s own feet, the unknown or the known, the chance or the risk. The heart dwells only in emotion, an emotion with unbridled motivation, and it stirs within people a vastness the mind could never grasp.
My thoughts written on the pages of my journal bordered chaotic, just mindless rambles regarding the time spent with William and Thomas. Through the chaos, though, my excitement over whom was obvious. The heart won. It spilled its wish, its desire.
The heart spoke and the mind was silent.
I thought of the nights spent with William and how I felt after I left his side each morning. He invoked the passion for life that I longed for, passion I didn’t have with Thomas, nor would ever feel. Without awkwardness between William and me, or any hindrance while alone with him, the more I thought of him, thought of us, the more concern for my parents’ desires disappeared.
The heart won.
And, the heart rested with William.