When researcher Grace Talbot and her team discover a possible solution for weight loss, they are targeted by a group dedicated to controlling the diet product industry worth billions. Her unsanctioned testing methods bring tragedy to the family ranch and the attention of the local sheriff’s deputy. With her colleagues either dead, missing, or on the run she soon realizes she must trust the deputy with her life, but can she trust him with her heart?

Targeted Age Group:: Adult

What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve begun paying more attention to what I eat and my overall health. The more I read about nutrition and fitness the more confused I become, especially when it comes to supplements. There are a myriad of products out there that make all sorts of claims, but what’s true? I’m sure the answer is very complex because there are a lot of variables that influence a products effectiveness, which makes the subject an excellent topic for fiction. I primarily write to entertain with stories of adventure and suspense. If the reader finds a helpful message in one of my books that’s wonderful, but mostly I simply hope to provide an escape from the everyday with a dramatic and entertaining tale.

How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
I keep a notebook by my chair and whenever I hear a name that intrigues me, I jot it down along with unique character traits. I also keep a file of magazine clippings of people who have an interesting look to them. Most characters will be developed using a combination of these photographs, personal knowledge, and my imagination in order to build the perfect character needed to carry out his or her role in the story.

Book Sample
The unmistakable haze of smoke filled the valley below. Snow covered the ground and weighed heavily on the pine boughs lining the highway, ruling out a forest fire as the source of the dark billows. The old rancher rolled down his window, despite the bitter cold, and inhaled deeply. The air smelled of fire, destruction, and death.

With the last switchback navigated, he shifted up and pressed the accelerator down as far as he dared while driving on icy roads. He tried not to let his imagination get the best of him, but couldn’t help but fear the worst. Someone, maybe even him, was suffering a loss.

As he approached the turnoff to his ranch, he realized immediately the nightmare was indeed his. Gunning the one one-ton’s motor, he churned down the snow-covered dirt lane at such a rate of speed he didn’t even notice the fresh set of tire tracks cutting through the white powder —new tracks, since he’d left for town just hours before.

The large truck skidded to a stop. The rancher leapt out and raced toward the burning building, praying there were no animals inside. The real terror came as he realized his ranch manager was nowhere in sight. Hoses remained coiled up, hanging on a fence post, not connected to the spigot, as would be expected if anyone were attempting to control the blaze.

Flames and smoke poured out of the second-story loft, sucking the oxygen out of the air as he approached the now fully engulfed building. Grasping the handle on one of the barn doors, he yanked back with all his might. It didn’t budge. He could hear the crashing of timbers collapsing onto the floor and the crackling and popping of fire eating away the interior of the building. Throwing his shoulder into the solid wood, he could feel the intense heat through the door and his heavy winter coat.

Still nothing.

The situation made no sense. The large double doors had no lock, and could, in fact, swing inward or outward. Glancing at the ranch manager’s house, he prayed his longtime friend and employee was sleeping through the chaos, but he knew better. If the startled cry of hens harassed by raccoons in the middle of the night could stir him, the fire would have drawn him out instantly.

Yelling at the top of his lungs, the old man got no response, but inhaled a choking dose of smoke in the process. He doubled over as he tried to expel the smoke from his lungs and gather his strength. His eyes burned, and his lungs ached as he backed up, giving himself a running start. He threw his body against the door, but the strong timbers held fast. After several more attempts to break through, he realized the futility in his efforts. As the heat, flames, and smoke intensified, he knew he had to act quickly. If anyone were inside, it might already be too late.

He ran toward the row of small windows on the side of the barn, which allowed light into the stables. Each pane was high enough to prevent a horse from breaking the glass, and too small for an adult to crawl through. Sliding a metal five five-gallon bucket close, he hoped to elevate himself enough to see if anyone was inside. The instant he got one foot on the bucket, the windows blew out, showering him with glass shards, burning his flesh, and throwing him to the 66 ground hard.

He rolled across the snow to extinguish the flames, which burned through his coat. He ignored the searing pain on every piece of exposed flesh. He struggled to his feet, grasping for a plan. Get the truck. Nothing can stop that beast. It will break through those doors, he thought as he turned away from the building.

Then everything went black.

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Author Bio:
Kim McMahill grew up in Wyoming which is where she developed her sense of adventure and love of the outdoors. She started out writing non-fiction, but her passion for exotic world travel, outrageous adventures, stories of survival, and happily-ever-after endings soon drew her into a world of romantic suspense and adventure fiction. Along with writing novels Kim has also published over eighty travel and geographic articles, and contributed to a travel story anthology. She has had the opportunity to live in Hawaii, New Mexico, South Dakota, Iowa, and Colorado, but has finally returned home to Wyoming. When not writing she enjoys gardening, traveling, hiking, puzzles, playing games, and spending time with family.

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Spirit Ridge by L. A. Kelley

A dark shadow rises.

San Francisco in 1885 was a dangerous place for those who crossed Colin Doyle. To Nob Hill elite he was a successful businessman. To the underbelly of San Francisco he was The Mick, a criminal mastermind ruling from the shadows. If a buyer’s tastes ran to opium, a whore, or a politician, The Mick could name a price. No one who betrayed him ever escaped the city alive.

Until now.

Nell Bishop is a fearless investigative reporter for the San Francisco Dispatch. She’s on the run to the Arizona Territory with the one witness who can expose Doyle’s corrupt empire and stop the plan to extend his evil dominion to the West.

Marshal Sam Tanner of Spirit Ridge in the Arizona Territory fought the visions sent by his Apache blood. They always foretold a death he couldn’t prevent. Then Sam dreamed of the coyote with golden brown eyes who warned of a black shadow spreading evil across the land. Did the message call him to help the beautiful woman who stepped off the stagecoach? Can Sam and Nell elude the mysterious dark riders who dog their trail or will the next vision mean death for both of them?

Targeted Age Group:: teen through adult
Heat/Violence Level: Heat Level 3 – PG-13

What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
The story of Nellie Bly, a nineteenth century investigative reporter, fascinated me and I decided to use her as as inspiration for Nell Bishop. I wanted to add a Native American character and created a half-Apache marshal with spirit visions. Apache tales encompass animal spirits, and I decided to play around with them and add my person embellishments.

How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
My inspiration was a real woman named Nellie Bly who fearlessly broke the mold. She was an investigative reporter who began her career writing for The Pittsburg Dispatch. (My Nell writes for The San Francisco Dispatch). She was a foreign correspondent, charity worker, and pioneered the field of investigative journalism by going undercover as a patient in an insane asylum and then writing a series of exposés on the horrific conditions. She even turned fiction into fact. In response to Jules Verne’s book Around the World in Eighty Days, Nell set out on an around-the-world journey and completed the trip in 72 days. Take that, Phineas Fogg.

Book Sample
Surprise shot through Bart’s expression. “Never reckoned you smart enough to figure the truth. The Mick’s reward ain’t for fetching you alive.” His tongue flicked in and out again. “Please me, and I’ll make it quick.”
Tears sprung to Daisy’s eyes. “Sweet Jesus, help me.”
Bart’s heartless chuckle encased Nell’s heart in ice. “Ain’t no God nor man gonna help a whore.”
“Get away from her this instant!” Nell stepped into the alley, right hand hidden in the tunic, finger on the trigger.
Bart raised the gun to meet the new arrival. “Where’d you come from? Best be on your way. This ain’t no concern of yours.”
Nell strode toward them through the fog. The gaslight shone on her white wimple and the scapular under the veil.
Daisy gasped. “She’s a nun, Bart. You can’t shoot a nun.”
“Shut up,” he barked, backhanding her across the mouth. “For five thousand, I’ll shoot anyone.”
“Get out of here, Sister,” Daisy moaned. “Please, don’t get hurt on my account. I ain’t worth it.”
“Release her.” Nell’s tone betrayed not a single tremor. “If you beg trouble, sir, let fly. I guarantee you won’t live long enough for regrets.”
Bart’s thumb pulled back to cock the trigger. “Your words don’t cut nothing. The devil claimed me as his own long ago.”
“Then perhaps,” she responded coolly, “the time has come to meet your maker and beg forgiveness in person.”
A shot rang out. Daisy shut her eyes and screamed.

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Truffle Me Not by MK Scott

The future of Cupid’s Catering Company hangs in the balance. With a rival bakery, owned by the queen of all mean, rich girls, Della is at a distinct disadvantage.

Della hinges her financial future on winning the local truffle contest. As if there wasn’t enough on her mind, additional problems arise, including missing cats, jewel thieves, and her desperate attempt to find the incredibly kind man who’d lent her hand when she had tire trouble.

Can she solve all these problems and find time to whip up a cookbook at the same time?

Targeted Age Group:: 13-100
Heat/Violence Level: Heat Level 1 – G Rated Clean Read

What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
Baking and cooking is part of my family's history and I wanted to include it in a cozy mystery.

How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
Mabel, the mother, is based on my grandmother. Della is a combination of friends I've known plus some fictional aspects.

Book Sample
Truffle Me Not Ex 1

Donning rubber gloves, Della tackled the dirty dishes, indulging in an impromptu trip down memory lane. Even though it was more than a decade ago, every now and then, the memories of not quite fitting in no matter what she did came back. Her school broke down into cliques with the predominant ones being jocks, popular kids, and the hipsters, plus everyone else that didn’t merit a label. As for the jocks, their name said it all while the popular kids were a little harder to define. Sure, it was easy to know who they were, but what made them popular was difficult to pinpoint. Most came from powerful, affluent families that usually had a member on the school board. This often translated into starring roles in the school play or being on the first string in athletics.

Thanks to a cyber security assembly in middle school at which her father presented, the other students knew her father as that cop. It resulted in Della getting the side-eye now and then, especially if other students happened to be talking about underage parties. Every party that was busted somehow got laid on Della’s doorstep. Never mind the fact her detective father didn’t take noise complaints associated with teen parties. They assumed she told. Not sure how they came to that conclusion, when she’d never been invited. Not once did the partiers ever consider that deafening music, the abundance of cars, and raucous behavior might have resulted in irate neighbors calling the police.

Some kids might have let it go, but not Lacey. Just her name had Della gritting her teeth. Small town life had its share of mean girls who aged into entitled, mean women. Lacey had to be the queen of them all. For most, being beautiful, wealthy, and the topic of most conversations would be enough. Even with everyone treating the woman like royalty, Della could tolerate it if her royal meanness stayed far, far away.

That was why a woman’s condescending tone reaching into the kitchen and might as well pinched Della. “Oh, how quaint!”

Her head jerked up, and the pan slipped from her fingers. A shiver raced up her spine. No, it couldn’t be. Better check it to be sure. There had to more than one snotty female in town. Her athletic shoes allowed her to creep across the kitchen floor without making a sound. Whoever was out there would say something else, dispelling the possibility it was Lacey. Why would Lacey even visit her modest bakery?

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