MidWinters Eve Blog Hop #romance #giveaway #rodanandfields #Klondike #historical

Yes, I’m about to go there.

I’m about to remind you that you have less than a week to finish your Christmas shopping—5 days, in fact. Ha!

I’m sorry, and yet, I’m not sorry. For those who haven’t finished, I feel your pain. I haven’t finished either.

So with that, I think I wrote this more as a punishment to myself. It’s masochistic, I know, but I guess we need to be a little now and then to help us get our butts in gear.


While the tasks of Christmas shopping, mailing cards, hanging lights and decorating the house, and all the holiday baking stress out some, it doesn’t really stress me out. Sure, I have moments where I can feel overwhelmed, but for the most part, I try to soak in the experience rather than dread it.

Growing up, my parents never let me believe in Santa Claus. I never really knew why, and I’ve never asked, but I knew that when I had kids, I wanted to do that different…or at least, a little differently. Of course, in our house will still believe, talk about, and focus on the birth of Jesus Christ during the Christmas season. However, with that said, I’m also one of those parents who allows the belief in Santa Claus until they decide they don’t want to believe anymore.

I know that some would scoff at that, but I don’t really care.

For me, Christmas is holiday season to spend with my family. Even if as I type this my kids are driving me insane. Sure, I get to spend every day with them, but there is just something different about the holidays. I think it’s because of the traditions.

From throwing glitter and oats in the snow for the reindeer, to putting sprinkles and frosting on Cherrios…er, I mean Elf donuts for the Elves, to reading T’was the Night Before Christmas—all the little touches to every year that renew a sense of peace, hope, and love.

It’s the joy of the Christmas stress….

So what do I have for you on this stop of the Mid Winters Eve Blog Hop hosted by Bookhounds?

A free eBook copy of my novel In the Land of Gold set during the 1897 Klondike Gold Rush!


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Cora Colton can’t believe she even doubts saying yes to Christopher Payton’s proposal. From a good family, wealthy, and charming, Christopher is perfect for her. However, seeing his band of gold and diamonds, she hesitates. Something is missing, something is wrong, but she just doesn’t know what that something is.

After her father’s sudden death, Cora travels to Tacoma and learns that she is now the owner of his gold claim in Dawson City, Canada. Throwing caution to the wind, she leaves her engagement ring on the table, and departs for Canada and the adventure of a lifetime.

Arriving in the canvas tent town of Skagway on the Klondike trail, Coral catches the attention of Flynn O’Neill, an Irishman who has lived on the trail, guiding stampeeders for a few years. A bond thrusts them together, but their pasts could be what tears them apart—if they can survive the hardships and death on the trail to the land of gold.

“So what’re yeh hiding from?” A deep voice with a heavy Irish accent, from behind me somewhere, invaded my thoughts.

“I beg your pardon?” Turning to face the speaker, I spun a little too far in the chair, and the room pitched and rolled.

The unshaved ruggedness of the stranger’s chiseled jaw line exaggerated his perfect, broad smile. In my whiskey-induced haze, his devilish grin nearly knocked me off my stool.

With piercing, dark brown eyes, and black messy hair, his utter deliciousness captivated me.

“What’re yeh hiding from?”

Not in the mood for casual conversation, I desired nothing more than to tell him to leave me alone. To shout at him for approaching a woman he didn’t know and asking such a ridiculous, personal question, but the coy, seduction in his voice stopped me. He left me breathless, and for a brief second, the absurd thought of kissing him crossed my mind—annoying me even more.

What is wrong with me? I can’t kiss a stranger. I’m a betrothed woman.

“What sort of a question is that?” I asked.

“Apparently, one yeh don’t want to answer,” the Irishman laughed as he sat on the barstool next to mine. “Only two different types of women walk into a bar and get drunk within the first five minutes. One type is looking for male company,” he paused and gave me a wink. “And the other is hiding from something she doesn’t want to face.”

“I’m not drunk,” I snapped. “And, I’m not the sort of woman who is looking for male company.”

He laughed again. “No, I didn’t think yeh were.” He leaned in to whisper the last word, and the gentle roll in his voice over the letter ‘r’ sent a chill down my spine.

“I’m an engaged woman.”

“Are yeh now? Well he’s a fortunate lad, then. Isn’t he?” the Irishman glanced over one shoulder and then the other. “I’d love to meet him.”

I cleared my throat. “He’s not here.”

“And, here I thought most men wouldn’t be too keen on their fiancée coming into a bar late at night all by herself.”

“He doesn’t know I’m here.”

My cheeks flushed, burning with embarrassment.

Why on earth did I just say that?

The Irishman smirked and glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. His expression amused.

“So, what’re yeh hiding from?”

Don’t forget to check out all the fabulous blogs on this hop!


2 thoughts on “MidWinters Eve Blog Hop #romance #giveaway #rodanandfields #Klondike #historical

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