Pamela Clare's Blog, page 4

Sorry to have been MIA again for so long. I have a good excuse this time.

Much has happened here at Casa Clare since my last blog post. We're deep into the gardening season with lots of landscape projects. I had emergency gallbladder surgery. Barely Breathing (Colorado High Country #1) got a brand new sexy cover that brings it into alignment with the rest of the series. And Conrad and Kenzie’s story (Colorado High Country #6) is in progress and due for release late this month.




Life on the Urban Farm






As some of you know, I love to garden and have completed some of the coursework toward a master gardener certification. We have a large rose garden that is a few days away from being in full bloom. We have lots of wildflowers for bees, along with herbs and lavender for sensory enjoyment. Last year, we put in an orchard of eight fruit trees.

We had a beautiful and unusually rainy spring. The trees—apart from the Honeycrisp apple and peach tree which wore themselves out fruiting last year—flowered and began to set fruit. Then we had a bad hail storm that tore most of the pears from one of our pear trees and took off a lot of leaves. We thought we'd gotten off okay — still lots of pears, still some apples, some plums, and lots of cherries— when we noticed that the Fireside apple tree and Bartlett pear tree had fireblight.

Heartbreak! Lamentation!

The wet spring and the hail damage combined to help the bacteria that causes this deadly tree disease to flourish. We've trimmed diseased branches off both trees, caring to dip the pruners in bleach between cuts, and more twigs die off. First the fruit withers and dies, and then the leaves die. I'm not at all certain we'll be able to save either tree.

Unless we want to break out toxic chemicals we're not really equipped to use, we really have no options besides doing our best to give the tree what it needs and hoping it fights off the disease.

Our strawberries got nicked by hail, but we've had our first few bowls for breakfast. There's nothing like homegrown strawberries. Our raspberries are thriving, too. So there are lots of things to be grateful for.

We planted a lot of potatoes, and those didn't seem to notice the hail. I expect a record spud harvest late this summer.

New cover for Barely BreathingI’m sure Colorado High Country/Scarlet Springs fans noticed that the series changed its look between the first book ( Barely Breathing , Lexi and Austin) and the second book ( Slow Burn , Hawke and Victoria). Between those two releases, I’d done some research that showed that solo hero covers sell much better than couples. I made the change for the second book, but that left the first looking like it wasn't really part of the series.

I finally had time to do something about it, and I love the new look.

Conrad and Kenzie get their storyThe last we heard about Harrison Conrad, the alpinist on the Rocky Mountain Search & Rescue Team, he had almost died in a catastrophe while attempting to summit Mt. Everest for the third time. His team, including his best buddy, were killed. He was the only one to survive. Rather than coming back to Scarlet, we heard that he was in Nepal.

Well, Megs has had enough of this, and she goes after him, finding him at a Buddhist monastery.

In Barely Breathing , you got the hint that Conrad and Kenzie, the search-and-rescue dog trainer, liked each other. It’s Kenzie — and a sweet little golden retriever puppy named Gabby — that help Conrad pull his life back together in the wake of tragedy.

Watch for an excerpt soon!




Take my gallbladder — please



In early April, I had what I thought was a terrible bout of heartburn. It was agony for more than two hours — and then it stopped. I stopped taking NSAIDs for my arthritis (misery) and tried to eat better. My doc at Kaiser ordered an ultrasound to check for gallbladder trouble, and it came back normal.



Then on May 17, it happened again. Agony.



This time I went to the ER. I was there at 6 a.m., and they could tell from blood work and my blood pressure (which was sky high) that something was wrong and that I was in a serious amount of pain. An ultrasound showed that my gallbladder was full of gallstones, even impacted gallstones, and was distended, i.e., not too far from rupturing. I was in the OR by noon. The post-op pain wasn't as bad as the gallbladder attack itself.



Side note: I wanted to see the gallstones, but they wouldn't save them for me. Not very nice.



I'm doing fine now and am very grateful that the ER radiologist was better than the guy at Kaiser, who clearly misread the original ultrasound.

Enough medical drama!



Many thanks to my sons, Alec and Benjamin, who stayed by my side at the hospital, and to my parents who welcomed me into their home for a couple of days where I could recuperate without cats trying to jump on my abdomen.

Needless to say, work on Conrad’s book came to a screeching halt for a couple of weeks.



What’s next in fiction?

 Conrad and Kenzie’s book — still no title! — will be out at the end of this month.

Then, in August, I’m bringing the I-Team heroes and the Scarlet Springs heroes together for an action-packed novella in the vein of every I-Team fan's favorite novella Dead by Midnight (which still has a 5-star rating on Amazon after 2.5 years). This time, the enemy will be wildland fire, not terrorists. Expect the heroes you love and the women they love to have to give their all to survive and save others.

Stay tuned for Conrad and Kenzie’s excerpt! Or join the I-Team or Scarlet Springs readers groups on Facebook and get excerpts and news before anyone else.

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I had hoped Deadly Intent would be out in paperback within a week of the ebook release, but that didn't happen. It is finally out as of this afternoon and available on Amazon.

So what happened?

I had to prove to Amazon that I am Pamela Clare and that I wrote this book and that I have the right to publish it.

I'd heard of this happening to other authors. Amazon suppresses a release until they are satisfied that the book hasn't been stolen and that the author is who she says she is. I had gotten my documentation together — the registration I file with the Colorado Secretary of State to use my name as a business and the signed document proving that I had terminated my contract with Penguin Books.

And that's where the efficiency ended.

I was told in an email that it would take three to five business days for Amazon to review my documentation and reach a decision. When I asked whether they would keep my materials on file under my account so that I wouldn't have to do this again, they told me they would not. Which is just stooopid! A company as tech-saving and cutting edge as Amazon ought to have a system for retaining this information and attaching it to our author accounts so that we don't have to lose momentum on a book release.

Finally, about an hour after cc-ing Jeff Bezos on my reply email, I got a message from Executive Customer Service telling me that my documentation was good and that the book would go through content review (again!). That took about 24 hours. Then I clicked the button to make the book go live.

So, rest easy, readers of the world. I am Pamela Clare, and I wrote this book. And now — finally! — it's out in paperback, as well as ebook. (I'm not planning an audiobook this year.)

Here are the links:

Amazon print: http://amzn.to/2HiBwMAKindle: http://amzn.to/2FhEfWSKindle UK http://amzn.to/2C9EX9ZKindle CA http://amzn.to/2okk02CKindle AU http://amzn.to/2GsViEPKindle DR http://amzn.to/2BE8wPBNook: http://bit.ly/2C9Lfq4iBooks: https://apple.co/2C9RmdJKobo: http://bit.ly/2sIq1LPSmashwords: http://bit.ly/2ETVcso


Thank you to those of you who helped to spread the word, posting reviews and sharing tweets and Facebook posts. I'm grateful for your support. It’s unbelievably gratifying to see how very much you love the I-Team characters. 


What's next, you ask?



I've started working on an outline for Conrad’s story (Colorado High Country #6). We know he gets together with the search-and-rescue dog trainer, Kenzie Morgan. But first I have to bring him home from the Buddhist monastery in Nepal where he has been holed up since every member of his climbing team was killed in an accident on Everest. 




Last week, I met with a deputy who trains S&R dogs. SHE answered my many questions and has invited me to watch a training this Sunday, where the dogs will be practicing their skill at finding human remains. 

“What do you use for the human remains?” I asked.
“Human remains,” she said.


Oookay....


An image of people dragging a severed head out of vehicle and hiding it in the bushes popped into my head. Instead, they take a vial that has a small amount of decomposing human flesh in it — donated by a deceased person for the training of S&R dogs — and hide that. No body parts in bags. 
I will do my best not to smell this vial, I assure you. I'll leave sniffing to the dogs. It ought to be interesting to watch. 


Stay tuned for more I-Team and Scarlet Springs news!

Deadly Intent (I-Team #8), the first I-Team full-length I-Team story since Seduction Game in 2015, is out! It tells the story of Pulitzer Prize-winning I-Team photographer Joaquin Ramirez and former US Army Captain Mia Starr, whose paths cross one night at a crime scene, changing their lives forever.

Here’s the blurb:


Secrets buried in the sand…

Former US Army Captain Mia Starr has built a new life for herself in Denver, far away from camel spiders and sand—and the terrible secrets of her first deployment to Iraq. She isn’t looking for a relationship, especially not with an intrusive photojournalist. Joaquin Ramirez might be sexy, but in her experience, photojournalists only want to make a buck off other people’s suffering. Still, the universe must have a sick sense of humor because it keeps throwing her together with Joaquin, making the desire she feels for him harder and harder to resist.

An undeniable attraction…

As a Pulitzer Prize-winning news photographer, Joaquin has everything a single straight guy could want—except the right woman. When he meets Mia while shooting a crime scene, he immediately sees beyond her cold exterior to the vulnerable woman beneath. Though the police consider her a suspect, he’s sure she’s innocent. Someone is killing soldiers—and trying to pin the blame on her. Unable to resist the pull between them, Joaquin stands by her only to find himself snared in the killer’s net as well. 


A twisted soul hungry for revenge…

Mia can’t help it when the heat between her and Joaquin melts away her preconceptions. As their passion explodes, danger draws ever closer. When it becomes clear that Mia is the killer’s true target, she must trust Joaquin with a secret that could ruin her … or risk losing the love of a lifetime.


The story is available at all major ebook retailers. It will be out in print next week. At this time, I have no plans in motion for an audiobook.


Kinde: http://amzn.to/2FhEfWS

Kindle UK http://amzn.to/2C9EX9Z

Kindle CA http://amzn.to/2okk02C

Kindle AU http://amzn.to/2GsViEP

Kindle DR http://amzn.to/2BE8wPB

Nook: http://bit.ly/2C9Lfq4

iBooks: https://apple.co/2C9RmdJ

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2sIq1LP

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2ETVcso




Q: I thought you said Dead By Midnight was the I-Team finale. 
A: At the time, I thought it was. I was unable to write romantic suspense because of contractual limitations. I terminated my contract last year, leaving me free to write romantic suspense again. Joaquin's story hadn't been told, and there were so many I-Team fans who wanted him to get his HEA that I knew I had to give him a story. 
Q: Does that mean the I-Team series is going to continue?
A: Yes, though I'm not sure how many more books there will be. I have several novellas in my head, and then there's Matt Harker. He needs a story. Alex Carmichael, too. And now there's a new I-Team member, introduced in this story, Anna Hughes, who will need an HEA as well.
I will be launching a spinoff series this year focused on Cobra International Solutions, Javier Corbray (Striking Distance, I-Team #6) and Derek Tower’s security and black ops business. Derek will get his story first. We'll see beloved I-Team characters in that series. Holly and Nick (Seduction Game) work there now. There is a major shake-up coming in the life of one I-Team hero, and he might end up there, too.
Q: Oh, a new romantic suspense series!
A: Yes! I can't wait to sink my teeth into it.
Q: What can you tell us about Joaquin’s story?
A: Joaquin has changed tremendously from the first book. By the time we get to Breaking Point (I-Team #5), he's already starting to go through some big transitions. The Joaquin we meet in Deadly Intent is the Joaquin who survived the cartel attack and the hostage crisis in Dead By Midnight. In real life, you don't go through violent, traumatic events without changing. He is not the kid brother kind of character any longer. Also, we learn things about him we didn’t know before.
Qualities he has always had — the ability to see deeper into people, empathy, etc. — become clearer in this story. We know where they come from.
He is the perfect man for Mia, who doesn't like him at first. She has a hard-earned grudge against photojournalists from her time serving in Iraq.
Q: Are characters from the other I-Team stories in the book?
A: Yes. We see everyone, even if some of the appearances are more like cameos. It's hard with such a big cast of characters to have everyone play a meaningful role in every story. I try to make the connections realistic. We are not in touch with all of our good friends or family every day. We move in circles that overlap. Today, we're in this circle. Tomorrow, we shift to that circle. I try very hard to make any appearance by a character from a previous book meaningful, and not just “fan service.” 
The couple known as Marcangelo have prominent roles in the story, as does Holly, and the entire West clan at the Cimarron. (If you don’t know what the Cimarron is, you've missed the I-Team After Hours novellas — Skin Deep and Soul Deep — and need to catch up!)
Q: Can this book be read out of order?
A: Yes, this can be read as a stand-alone. But I highly recommend you read Seduction Game and Dead By Midnight first. There are events and characters in this story whose lives are deeply impacted by those two books. If you haven't read them, Deadly Intent will be full of spoilers.
Q: What about your straight contemporary series — the Colorado High Country series?
A: I’m going to keep writing that series. There are so many characters whose stories we haven’t heard. I can’t just drop them and leave them behind. Writing straight contemporary has been a challenge for me. My heart is more romantic suspense. But there are some suspense elements that leak into these stories. (I can't seem to help it.) So we'll be back in Scarlet Springs soon! 
In fact, I have a novella planned for this year that will bring some of our favorite I-Team heroes together with the Rocky Mountain Search and Rescue Team crew and Hawke’s crew of firefighters. That's going to be a very high-octane story.
Q: That sounds exciting! So, what's next?
A: I'll be starting the next Colorado High Country story next. I need to bring poor Conrad home from Nepal, where he lost his climbing partners in a summit bid for Mt. Everest. Megs is going after him. He will connect with search-dog trainer Kenzie Morgan, who will wisely give him a puppy to train. That puppy, and Kenzie's love, will ultimately save our hero from his crushing grief.
After that, probably the novella, and then Derek’s book in the new Cobra series.
Q: That's a busy year you have planned for yourself.
A: Yes, it is, but also exciting. I love these characters as much or more than my readers do. 
Q: Is there anything else you’d like to add about Deadly Intent?
A: I think Joaquin will surprise you. He is one of my most sensual heroes. Anyone who thinks he isn’t really hero material is in for a shock.

DEADLY INTENT , the first full-length I-Team novel since SEDUCTION GAME in 2015, will be out NEXT WEEK! It is also my first Romantic Suspense novel since 2015.

Watch this space for news about the release.

Deadly Intent tells Joaquin's story. Yes, finally, Joaquin Ramirez, the I-Team's Pulitzer Prize-winning photojournalist, gets his own story. His heroine is Mia Starr, a veteran of the war in Iraq and former Army officer, who now works as a horticulturalist at the Botanic Gardens.

Here’s an excerpt:

Mia stood in the doorway while Joaquin led Elena onto a bit of open wood floor to cheers from their relatives.

“Quino taught Elena to dance when she was four and he was fourteen,” Aleta, Elena's mother, told her. "He's the artist of the family.”

So Joaquin was thirty-four — three years older than Mia.

Not that that mattered or meant anything at all.

Mia really ought to head home, but having seen him dance once tonight, she couldn't get herself to move toward the door. He and Elena stood there debating something in Spanish.

Aleta leaned close to Mia. “My nephew wants salsa dura —  the classic salsa - but Elena wants salsa romantica. They've agreed on Marc Anthony.”

None of that meant anything to Mia. She knew nothing about salsa, apart from the kind that went on tacos.

Finally, the music started and Joaquin and Elena began to move. People cheered, the noise bringing friends and relatives who'd been in other parts of the house and wanted to watch, too. They pushed past Mia, but she barely noticed them, her gaze fixed on Joaquin.

He moved with innate grace, every step, every motion of his hips, even the way he held Elena radiating masculine sensuality. The two of them seemed to be connected, mirroring each other with their steps as if they practiced this together all the time. Elena — down-to-business Corporal Ramirez — had transformed into a dance goddess, her short dress barely enough to cover her butt. She twirled and tossed her hair, never missing a step, a bright smile on her face. How could anyone dance like that in three-inch heels? Mia could barely walk.

Then Elena turned in Joaquin's arms, pressing her butt backward toward him, her hips thrusting in a way that was blatantly sexual. He laughed, answering with thrusts of his own, their hips grinding in sync.

Whistles. Cheers.

Mia's pulse skipped.

If she had danced like this with a cousin... Well, let's just say her conservative Presbyterian parents would've asked questions. But there was Elena’s mother and her little old grandma, laughing, their feet moving to the rhythm, clearly untroubled.

Then another thought struck Mia.

If Joaquin moved like that on the dance floor, what would he be like in bed?

God in heaven.

No. No, no. She couldn't think about that.

She couldn't help but think about that.

Elena had begun to sing along to the music, even her ribcage undulating as she turned in his arms once again, their feet keeping a perfect rhythm as they circled around the room. But, although Elena was the showier of the two of them, Mia could tell it was Joaquin who was in control, his dominance clear—a touch here, his hand catching Elena's there, his arms supporting her while she arched backward.

More cheers.

When the song ended, the room exploded into applause.

Joaquin hugged Elena close. “Welcome home, prima.”

“Joaquin is a good man,” Aleta said.

Mia looked over to find the older woman watching her. “I ... um...”

Then Joaquin was there, hand out. “Dance with me.”

Mia shook her head. “I ... I can't dance. I've never—”

She’d never tried.

“Quino is the best teacher.’ Elena looked at Mia, expectation on her face.

“Come on, Captain Starr,” Aleta said. “Give it a try.”

Her words were picked up by the others in the room.

“At least try it.”

“Quino can teach you.”

“You can do it, captain.”

She glanced around at them. “Only if you all promise not to laugh.”

For some reason, they all found this funny.

But Joaquin didn't laugh. He looked into her eyes, the intensity of his gaze pinning her to the spot. “I won't laugh. I promise.”

Against her better judgment, Mia took his hand. “I'm warning you. I can't dance to save my life.”

“The basic step is easy. Elena, come show her.”

Elena walked over to stand at Mia's right side. “Just listen to Quino.”

“Step back with your right, step in place with the left, then step slightly forward with your right. Then back with your left, step in place with the right foot, slightly forward with the left. Rock back, replace, step forward. Rock back, replace, step forward. That's it. You've got it.”

They repeated that several times, Mia watching Elena's feet.

"Now, try doing it without looking at your feet. Look at me, and follow my lead."

Mia looked into Joaquin's brown eyes, felt her pulse spike - and her step faltered.

"Relax," he said in a silky voice that made relaxing impossible.

"I'd rather be taking enemy fire." She blurted the words, but it was the truth.

The room exploded into laughter — and somehow that helped. No one here wanted to humiliate her. No one wanted to embarrass her. They were just having fun, and they wanted her to have fun, too.

"It's easier for you to follow if we're a little closer together." Joaquin drew her deeper into his arms —not so deep that their bodies touched, but close enough that she could feel the warmth emanating off his body and smell his skin.

She inhaled deeper, savoring the scent of him.

"Let's try again. One, two, three, rest. Five, six, seven, rest. You've got it. You're doing it. Now let's try turning."

The next time she stepped back with her right foot, Joaquin turned her to the right — and she lost the step.

That's okay. This is new. You'll get the hang of it." Joaquin coached her until she'd managed to get through a few turns, not once losing patience with her. "Let's try it with music."

Someone put on the same Marc Anthony song, Joaquin counting out the rhythm for her. "One two three, rest. Five, six, seven, rest. Look at me, not your feet."

Mia found herself dancing, the rhythm of the music showing her feet what to do. At first they moved forward and backward. Then Joaquin led her through a few turns, putting a hand on her hip to guide her. The contact startled her, his touch seeming to burn through the fabric of her dress. Again, her step faltered.

"Hey, no one gets it right the first time," he said. "Just keep dancing."

Mia tried to concentrate. One two three, rest. Five, six, seven, rest.

"You're overthinking it. Let go."

She gave in, looked into his eyes once more, the rhythm taking over.

"You've got it." Joaquin grinned, his face stunningly handsome.

Mia found herself smiling, too. She knew she must look stiff and awkward, especially compared to Elena, but she didn't care. "This is fun!"

"More fun than dodging incoming fire?"

She couldn't help but laugh. "Yes."

Too soon the song ended.

Cheers and applause.

Joaquin stepped back, raised one of her hands to his lips, kissed it. "Thanks."

Heat rushed into her cheeks. "Thank you."

All at once, Mia needed to be somewhere else, anywhere else. "I should go."

"So soon?" Elena looked disappointed. "It's not even ten."

"I'm an early riser, so this is late for me." Mia gave Elena another hug. "It's great to see you again."

"It's good to see you, too. Thanks for coming. I'll get your coat."

Mia thanked her hosts, accepting hugs from Elena's mother and a kiss on her cheek from Elena's father.

"Thank you so much for what you did for Elena."

When Elena returned with Mia's coat, Joaquin took it and helped Mia into it. "I'll walk you to your car."

She was about to tell him there was no need for that, but the look in his eyes told her that would be pointless. "Goodnight."

He grabbed his jacket and followed her out the door, and for a time they walked without speaking. He broke the silence. "Thanks again for coming tonight. It meant a lot to Elena."

"I try to stay in touch with all of my soldiers. Well, they're not really my soldiers, not any more."

"Like Andrew Meyer."

"Yes." Mia's mood plummeted.

“I'm really sorry about your friend—and the news article.”

"You just have a job to do. Nothing personal, right?" Mia clicked the fob on her key chain, unlocking her car door, her headlights flashing.

Was she being unfair to Joaquin? It was his job. And she was a person of interest — at least at the moment. The police would clear her soon.

He opened the door for her. "I hope you get good news soon."

"Thanks." She stood there for a moment, caught between anger and attraction. "And thanks for the dance lesson."

“My pleasure.”He waited for her to climb in and shut her door.

As she drove down the street, she saw in the rear view mirror that he was still standing in the street, watching her drive away.

~ ~ ~ ~

I can't wait to get Joaquin's book into your hands!

Copyright (c) Pamela Clare 2018

There's lots going on here at Casa Clare, so here’s a quick catchup.

I finished working with Kaleo Griffith on the audiobook edition of Dead By Midnight: An I-Team Christmas . The audiobook should be out late this week or perhaps next week. Kaleo did an amazing job narrating the story — as he always does — with the sex scenes pretty much melting my earbuds as I “proofed” the recordings. All of you OKD sufferers — that’s Obsessive Kaleo Disorder, for those of you who aren’t yet addicts — are going to get a huge fix soon.

I am so excited to share this with you. I had forgotten that the story starts with Kat and Gabe getting it on, so I went from nothing to meltdown in about 2.2 seconds. You’ll have to be wearing asbestos panties not to get hot and bothered by the sound of Kaleo’s voice reading that scene (or the one of Marc and Sophie in the bathroom or the one of Zach and Natalie or Julian and Tessa at the end).

If you haven’t yet read Dead By Midnight , the most exciting of all the I-Team stories in my opinion, it is available in both ebook and paperback.

Close to Heaven is out in paperback
Close To Heaven: A Colorado High Country Christmas is out in paperback now. Thanks to those of you who took the time to read the story and share your reviews on Goodreads and Amazon.

If you haven’t snagged your copy of Joe and Rain’s sweet and sexy Christmas story, it’s available on Amazon, iBooks, B&N, and Kobo, as well as Smashwords.

I'm about to start working on Joaquin’s story. Yes, you read that right. An I-Team story.

After writing straight contemporary romance for the past year and a half, it will be fun to return to romantic suspense. (Yes, the Colorado High Country series was straight contemporary, something I tried very hard to communicate with readers, who nonethless complained that there wasn't enough suspense. Er... There's no suspense in straight contemporaries.)

No, I’m not abandoning the Colorado High Country series. I love the characters far too much to just skip town. But Joaquin’s story finally gelled in my imagination, so it’s time to give the poor guy his own HEA. He’s been waiting for years!

It’s been a while since I've hung out with the I-Team gang, but working on the audiobook for Dead By Midnight was a good warm-up for taking the series foward. I hope you’re as excited as I am.


Follow me on Book+Main Bites

Also, I have joined Books+Main Bites, so register if you want to come hang and read excerpts from your favorite authors all day. You can find me under @PamelaClare. There are no sales pushes on Books+Main Bites, just sexy photos and lots of exerpts and deleted chapters, etc. This gives authors and readers a snark-free place to hang out that is blissfully far from the chaos and negativity of Facebook.

On the home front...
On the personal side, my sister is flying in for the Christmas holiday on Thursday. She lives in Stockholm, so this is the only time of the year I really get to spend with her. She is my best friend, so I’m very excited to see her again.

As a final bit of good news, I decided to get my blood work for my January oncology checkup done early so that I didn’t have it hanging over my head during the Christmas season. I got the results back today, and everything was normal! Hallelujah. Dec. 9 will mark the three-year anniversary of my last day of radiation. That’s the day I’ll be able to call myself a three-year breast cancer survivor.

That makes my Christmas bright all by itself.

Watch for news about the release of the audiobook edition of Dead By Midnight coming soon!

Wishing all my friends and readers in the US a wonderful Thanksgiving!

CLOSE TO HEAVEN : A Colorado High Country Christmas (Colorado High Country #5) is OUT! That had to be a speed record.

Kindle US, Kindle UK, Kindle CA, Kindle AU, iBooks, Smashwords (international, all ebook formats).

It's out on Nook, too, but the BN website won't generate a product page for some reason. Readers have been able to find it by searching the Nook store on their Nooks. Way to be glitchy, BN!

It should be out at any time on Kobo as well.

This full-length novel tells the story of two of people’s favorite characters — Rain Minear and Joe Moffat. We’ve seen them in every Colorado High Country book so far as the general manager and owner, respectively, of Knockers, the brewpub. Now their story comes front and center.

Rain was a mother at 16, abandoned by her much older babydaddy to give birth in a minivan alone. She grew up poor, managed to raise her daughter by working hard and sacrificing, and now at 37 feels alone.

Joe grew up with everything, but his heritage is a burden to him. He is haunted by ghosts of Scarlet Springs' past. He plans to stay single, have no children, and leave all his money to a foundation for the people of Scarlet. I’m telling you right now that things don’t work out the way he'd planned them. In the end, no one will be more grateful for that than Joe.

I hope you enjoy the story!

Here's the blurb from the back of the book:

A woman at a crossroads…

Rain Minear has fantasized about finding herself in Joe Moffat’s arms for years. It’s just her luck that the night it finally happens, he’s carrying her into the emergency room. It’s Joe who steps up to help her when a tragedy brings her life crashing down. He gives her a place to stay, helps her get back on her feet, and even tries to save her Christmas, though he’s never cared for the holiday. But he’s far too ethical to sleep with a member of his staff, holding her at arms length despite the long-simmering attraction between them.

A man haunted by the past…

Joe Moffat moved to Scarlet Springs to repay a debt. He’s struggled for years to keep his hands off Rain. She’s the general manager of his brewpub, and he is not that kind of boss. But, oh, she turns him on. More than that, she has the biggest heart of any woman he’s ever known. He’d do anything to see her smile again, even put up a Christmas tree and listen to carols. 

A season that changes two lives forever…

When a Rocky Mountain blizzard leaves them snowbound, they can no longer ignore their feelings for one another. As their passion turns to something deeper, it becomes clear to them both that this will be the most important Christmas of their lives.

It’s a fun and emotional story that gives us a glimpse into the historical past of Scarlet Springs and its people. It was a blast for me to research mining history and Colorado history for those parts of the story. 

Want an excerpt? I know you do. Without further ado...

From Close to Heaven ...

While Joe set up the tree and retrieved box after box of Christmas decorations from storage, Rain rolled out the cookie dough, cut circles in the dough with a glass—Joe had no cookie cutters—then sprinkled the dough with sugar and put the cookies in the oven. She watched Joe as he came and went. Some part of her wanted to pretend that they were a happy couple preparing for Christmas together, but she was too much of a realist to play that game. Besides, Joe was anything but happy. He seemed tense, even grouchy. He was probably still upset about his SUV being stuck in a ditch.

He was always the first person in town to help others in times of trouble, but he had a hard time asking for it. Worse, he hated being out of the action. Now, he was stuck here with her for a couple of days, sidelined by a storm.

Rain cleaned up the mess she’d made, wiping flour off the countertop and getting the dishes into the dishwasher.

Joe walked in, another big box in his arms. He set it down on the floor near the living room fireplace. “I think this is the last one. I had planned to donate all of this. I just never got around to it.”

Rain dried her hands. “Maybe because it means something to you?”

He shrugged. “Nah. I’ve just been busy.”

Rain rested her hands on her hips. “We don’t have to do this, Joe. If this isn’t fun for you, it won’t be fun for me either. We can just chill and watch TV or do our own thing if that sounds better to you.”

He drew in a breath, closed his eyes, the tension inside him palpable. “You’re right. Sorry. I’m being an ass.”

“I didn’t say that.”

He opened his eyes, his lips curving in a lopsided grin. “Maybe you should have.”

“I’m sorry about your SUV.”

“It’s nothing. Compared to what you’re going through…”

She wanted him to know she understood. “It’s hard for you to ask for help, I know, especially when you want to be out there helping other people.”

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Okay, now, get over it. Everyone needs help once in a while—even the mighty Joe Moffat.”

He raised a dark eyebrow. “Is that how I come across?”

“Only when you’re beating yourself up for being human.”

Some of the frustration left his face. “Good to know.”

He walked over to his sound system, pulled out his iPod. “Christmas music. Let’s see what I have on here. Andy Williams. My grandmother loved him.”

Rain didn’t want to be negative. “He’s fine.”

Joe frowned. “Okay, so not Andy Williams. How about the Chipmunks?”

“The Chipmunks?” Rain laughed. “You listened to the Chipmunks?”

“No to the Chipmunks?”

She had a better idea. “Do you trust me?”

“Sure.”

Rain drew out her cell phone, found her Christmas playlist, then plugged her phone into the sound system and hit play. José Feliciano’s Feliz Navidad spilled into the room. “I love this song.”

She couldn’t help herself. She sang along and then started to dance, the happy melody and the Puerto Rican rhythm calling to her.

Joe crossed his arms over his chest and watched her, a grin on his face, his gaze warm. “You have a beautiful voice,” he said when the song ended.

The compliment hit a sore spot inside her.

“Not beautiful enough to make a career out of it.” She walked into the kitchen, checked the oven timer.

One minute.

“Come on now. You don’t know that.” He was still watching her, and she knew he was trying to decide whether to let it go. He changed the subject, pointing to the speakers. “What’s playing now?”

“Celtic harp. Kim Robertson.” Rain searched for an oven mitt, grateful that he hadn’t pushed her. “She’s incredible. I saw her play in Denver a few years ago.”

The timer beeped, and Rain took the cookie sheets out of the oven, the sweet scent of fresh sugar cookies mingling with the bright pine scent of the tree. She left the cookies to cool, joining Joe in the living room, where he was going from box to box as if trying to decide where to start.

He glanced over at her. “Let’s open these up, and see what we have.”

“You don’t know what’s in them?” She found this funny.

“They belonged to my mother. They were handed down to me after she passed, but I haven’t opened them.”

Was that it? Was that why he’d seemed so tense?

“If this is going to dredge up unhappy memories for you or make you sad, we can decorate with popcorn or ribbons or old socks for all I care.”

“Old socks?” He chuckled. “It’s fine, really. I wasn’t close to my parents. At Christmas, staff decorated the trees—several of them—for my mother’s Christmas parties. They also did all of my mom’s Christmas shopping. I was away at boarding school until right before the holiday. By the time I got home, everything was decorated, and the gifts were under the tree. It’s not something we did as a family.”

An ache in her chest, she watched as he chose a box and lifted it onto the coffee table. It made her sad to think that he had no real attachment to any of these decorations, no happy memories of putting up the tree with his parents and hanging his favorite ornaments year after year. The stuff in these boxes was just stuff to him. No wonder he’d planned to donate it.

“Let’s see what we’ve got.” He lifted the top off the box he’d chosen.

“Oh!” Delight washing through Rain. “They’re precious.”

On top sat a box of old European-style blown glass ornaments in pastel colors with glittering white, gold, and silver details—angels, Kris Kringles, shimmering birds with feathers for tails, elves, a little church, a trumpet, a cello, a violin. Each ornament was tucked carefully into tissue paper.

Joe took out one of the angels, turned it over in his hand as if it were a Rubik’s Cube. “How do you hang them on the tree? There are no hooks.”

“What do you mean?” Rain gaped at him. “Have you never decorated a Christmas tree before?”

“I told you. We had staff for that.”

“Well, it’s about time.” She found a small box of ornament hooks and opened it. “You take one of these and pass it through that little loop there. See?”

“Okay. Yeah. I get it.” He took it from her, started toward the tree.

“Oh, no, you can’t put it up yet. First, you have to put up the lights.”

He stopped mid-stride. “Lights? Right. I wonder where those are.”


~ ~ ~
Putting Christmas lights on a tree could test the patience of a saint. They found two big boxes of the damned things—dozens of strands of white lights—and went to work replacing old bulbs and putting the strands on the tree one by one. Rain took charge, imparting her vastly superior experience in Christmas tree decorating to him.

“You don’t want to drape the lights over the ends of the branches. You need to weave them through the tree, get them deep inside.”

She showed him how this was done, starting at the bottom of the tree and passing the lighted strand around its girth to him, their fingers brushing as they handed the strand back and forth. Awareness sang through him at her touch. Their gazes met through the tree’s green branches, the warmth in her eyes a provocation.

Twinkling lights. Soft music. The scent of pine.

Damn.

Joe was in trouble. He knew he ought to distance himself from her somehow, maybe go back outside and try digging out his Land Rover again, but he couldn’t get himself to step away. Their fingers lingered now, the touch deliberate.

They put strand after strand on the tree until it glittered and Joe was about to lose his mind. Then they moved to the ornaments—a new kind of torture. Every time they opened a box, a look of wonder came over Rain’s face, her smile and happiness putting a hitch in his chest. His pulse was tripping, and he wasn’t even touching her.

Jesus.

He got to his feet, walked to the window, needing some distance.

“These must be antique.” She held up a trio of angels. “Look. The faces are made of painted wax, not plastic.”

 “Yeah.” He turned to look out onto a windswept world of white, working to get his emotions under control, while she continued to rummage through the box.

“Oh!”

He heard her exclamation, recognized the excitement in her voice, but didn’t turn to see what she’d discovered, too caught up in his own feelings.
“Do you have any tape or thumbtacks?”

He answered without facing her. “They’re in the drawer next to the fridge.”

When are you going to tell Rain how you feel about her?

Rico’s words came back to him. Damn Rico anyway. What the hell did he expect Joe to do? Was he supposed to pull Rain aside and admit to her that he’d had sexual fantasies about her for far too long? Should he tell her that her smile, her laughter, the very sight of her put a warm feeling in his chest or confess that he spent more time at Knockers than he needed to so he could be close to her?

Listen to yourself. You’re pathetic, man.

When this storm passed, he would make an effort to meet someone again. He’d sign up on one of those online dating sites and—

“Oh, Joe.” There was a sing-song tone to her voice that cut through his thoughts.

He turned to find her standing in front of the sofa, a teasing smile on her lips, a look of expectation on her face.

She looked up at the ceiling, drawing his gaze with hers.

Hell.

Mistletoe.

It was plastic, but she didn’t seem to care.

“Rain.” He shook his head, but his feet began to move. “I’m your boss.”

Her gaze held his, an almost pleading look in her eyes. “Oh, who cares? It’s Christmas. I’m not going to sue you, if that’s what you think.”

“It’s not that.” Joe had come from a long line of assholes, and he was trying desperately not to become one himself.

Just give her a quick peck on the cheek.

Okay. Yeah. Sure. He could do that.

He closed the distance between them, hesitated for a moment, then ducked down to press his lips to her cheek. But his body betrayed him, and his mouth found its way to hers. It was just a brushing of lips, but the shock of it brought him back for another pass and another. Her lips were warm, soft, pliant, the sweet scent of her skin intoxicating. But he was going to stop. Any moment now, he would draw away from her and end this incredible … exhilarating… foolishness.

It was her little sigh of pleasure that undid him.

He drew her against him, claiming her mouth in a hungry kiss. She came alive in his arms, arching against him, matching his fervor, her tongue meeting his stroke for stroke, her fingers curling in his hair. God, she tasted like heaven and felt perfect in his arms, her breasts pressing against his chest, her body soft in all the right places.

Joe’s heart thrummed, blood surging to his groin. Some part of him realized that he hadn’t stopped, that he was still kissing her, but he didn’t care, not when kissing her felt so… damned … right. He nipped her lower lip, drew it into his mouth, felt her tongue graze his upper lip, her fingers fisting in his hair.

Whether she stumbled backward onto the sofa or whether he urged her, he couldn’t say, but one moment they were standing, and the next he was lying on top of her, pressing kisses along her throat, her pulse frantic beneath his lips.

She whimpered, her hips moving beneath his, grinding herself against his erection. She reached for the top button on his jeans. “Joe. I want you.”

“Yes.” What the hell had he just said? “No. No, Rain, we can’t.”

“Why not?” Rain stared up at him, disappointment and desire naked in her eyes. “We’re adults. I want you. You want me.”

As if the hard-on in his jeans left any doubt about that.

“I’m your employer, Rain.” Joe pulled away from her and got to his feet, everything inside him protesting the abrupt loss of contact. Not sure what to do or say, he started packing together the empty boxes.

“Seriously? That is your excuse? I told you. I’m not going to sue.”

“Do you really think I’ve got some kind of risk assessment going on in my head right now?” He glanced over at her. “I’m trying to be fair to you.”

Her expression fell, and she broke eye contact.

Shit. 

He’d hurt her. He didn’t want that. “Rain, I—”

“It’s okay, Joe.” She stood, smoothing her hands over her blouse. “Let’s get these boxes put away and have some cookies.”

Joe said what he’d been trying to say. “I care about you.”

“I know. You care about all of the staff.” She packed tissue paper into two empty boxes then closed them, shutting herself off from him, too.

This is what happened when he ignored his own better sense. He shouldn’t have kissed her in the first place. What the hell had he been thinking?

Copyright (c) 2017 Pamela Clare — All rights reserved

We just uploaded CLOSE TO HEAVEN: A Colorado High Country Christmas (Colorado High Country #5) to Amazon, B&N, Kobo, iBooks, and Smashwords. Watch for it to go live in the next 24 hours. It should be out in print in the next 10 days or so.

This full-length novel tells the story of Rain Minear and Joe Moffat whom we’ve seen in every Colorado High Country book so far as the general manager and owner, respectively, of Knockers, the brewpub. Now their story comes front and center.

I hope you enjoy it!

Here's the blurb from the back of the book:

A woman at a crossroads…

Rain Minear has fantasized about finding herself in Joe Moffat’s arms for years. It’s just her luck that the night it finally happens, he’s carrying her into the emergency room. It’s Joe who steps up to help her when a tragedy brings her life crashing down. He gives her a place to stay, helps her get back on her feet, and even tries to save her Christmas, though he’s never cared for the holiday. But he’s far too ethical to sleep with a member of his staff, holding her at arms length despite the long-simmering attraction between them.

A man haunted by the past…

Joe Moffat moved to Scarlet Springs to repay a debt. He’s struggled for years to keep his hands off Rain. She’s the general manager of his brewpub, and he is not that kind of boss. But, oh, she turns him on. More than that, she has the biggest heart of any woman he’s ever known. He’d do anything to see her smile again, even put up a Christmas tree and listen to carols. 

A season that changes two lives forever…

When a Rocky Mountain blizzard leaves them snowbound, they can no longer ignore their feelings for one another. As their passion turns to something deeper, it becomes clear to them both that this will be the most important Christmas of their lives.

It’s a fun and emotional story that gives us a glimpse into the historical past of Scarlet Springs and its people. It was a blast for me to research mining history and Colorado history for those parts of the story. 

Want an excerpt? I know you do. Without further ado...

From Close to Heaven ...

While Joe set up the tree and retrieved box after box of Christmas decorations from storage, Rain rolled out the cookie dough, cut circles in the dough with a glass—Joe had no cookie cutters—then sprinkled the dough with sugar and put the cookies in the oven. She watched Joe as he came and went. Some part of her wanted to pretend that they were a happy couple preparing for Christmas together, but she was too much of a realist to play that game. Besides, Joe was anything but happy. He seemed tense, even grouchy. He was probably still upset about his SUV being stuck in a ditch.

He was always the first person in town to help others in times of trouble, but he had a hard time asking for it. Worse, he hated being out of the action. Now, he was stuck here with her for a couple of days, sidelined by a storm.

Rain cleaned up the mess she’d made, wiping flour off the countertop and getting the dishes into the dishwasher.

Joe walked in, another big box in his arms. He set it down on the floor near the living room fireplace. “I think this is the last one. I had planned to donate all of this. I just never got around to it.”

Rain dried her hands. “Maybe because it means something to you?”

He shrugged. “Nah. I’ve just been busy.”

Rain rested her hands on her hips. “We don’t have to do this, Joe. If this isn’t fun for you, it won’t be fun for me either. We can just chill and watch TV or do our own thing if that sounds better to you.”

He drew in a breath, closed his eyes, the tension inside him palpable. “You’re right. Sorry. I’m being an ass.”

“I didn’t say that.”

He opened his eyes, his lips curving in a lopsided grin. “Maybe you should have.”

“I’m sorry about your SUV.”

“It’s nothing. Compared to what you’re going through…”

She wanted him to know she understood. “It’s hard for you to ask for help, I know, especially when you want to be out there helping other people.”

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Okay, now, get over it. Everyone needs help once in a while—even the mighty Joe Moffat.”

He raised a dark eyebrow. “Is that how I come across?”

“Only when you’re beating yourself up for being human.”

Some of the frustration left his face. “Good to know.”

He walked over to his sound system, pulled out his iPod. “Christmas music. Let’s see what I have on here. Andy Williams. My grandmother loved him.”

Rain didn’t want to be negative. “He’s fine.”

Joe frowned. “Okay, so not Andy Williams. How about the Chipmunks?”

“The Chipmunks?” Rain laughed. “You listened to the Chipmunks?”

“No to the Chipmunks?”

She had a better idea. “Do you trust me?”

“Sure.”

Rain drew out her cell phone, found her Christmas playlist, then plugged her phone into the sound system and hit play. José Feliciano’s Feliz Navidad spilled into the room. “I love this song.”

She couldn’t help herself. She sang along and then started to dance, the happy melody and the Puerto Rican rhythm calling to her.

Joe crossed his arms over his chest and watched her, a grin on his face, his gaze warm. “You have a beautiful voice,” he said when the song ended.

The compliment hit a sore spot inside her.

“Not beautiful enough to make a career out of it.” She walked into the kitchen, checked the oven timer.

One minute.

“Come on now. You don’t know that.” He was still watching her, and she knew he was trying to decide whether to let it go. He changed the subject, pointing to the speakers. “What’s playing now?”

“Celtic harp. Kim Robertson.” Rain searched for an oven mitt, grateful that he hadn’t pushed her. “She’s incredible. I saw her play in Denver a few years ago.”

The timer beeped, and Rain took the cookie sheets out of the oven, the sweet scent of fresh sugar cookies mingling with the bright pine scent of the tree. She left the cookies to cool, joining Joe in the living room, where he was going from box to box as if trying to decide where to start.

He glanced over at her. “Let’s open these up, and see what we have.”

“You don’t know what’s in them?” She found this funny.

“They belonged to my mother. They were handed down to me after she passed, but I haven’t opened them.”

Was that it? Was that why he’d seemed so tense?

“If this is going to dredge up unhappy memories for you or make you sad, we can decorate with popcorn or ribbons or old socks for all I care.”

“Old socks?” He chuckled. “It’s fine, really. I wasn’t close to my parents. At Christmas, staff decorated the trees—several of them—for my mother’s Christmas parties. They also did all of my mom’s Christmas shopping. I was away at boarding school until right before the holiday. By the time I got home, everything was decorated, and the gifts were under the tree. It’s not something we did as a family.”

An ache in her chest, she watched as he chose a box and lifted it onto the coffee table. It made her sad to think that he had no real attachment to any of these decorations, no happy memories of putting up the tree with his parents and hanging his favorite ornaments year after year. The stuff in these boxes was just stuff to him. No wonder he’d planned to donate it.

“Let’s see what we’ve got.” He lifted the top off the box he’d chosen.

“Oh!” Delight washing through Rain. “They’re precious.”

On top sat a box of old European-style blown glass ornaments in pastel colors with glittering white, gold, and silver details—angels, Kris Kringles, shimmering birds with feathers for tails, elves, a little church, a trumpet, a cello, a violin. Each ornament was tucked carefully into tissue paper.

Joe took out one of the angels, turned it over in his hand as if it were a Rubik’s Cube. “How do you hang them on the tree? There are no hooks.”

“What do you mean?” Rain gaped at him. “Have you never decorated a Christmas tree before?”

“I told you. We had staff for that.”

“Well, it’s about time.” She found a small box of ornament hooks and opened it. “You take one of these and pass it through that little loop there. See?”

“Okay. Yeah. I get it.” He took it from her, started toward the tree.

“Oh, no, you can’t put it up yet. First, you have to put up the lights.”

He stopped mid-stride. “Lights? Right. I wonder where those are.”


~ ~ ~
Putting Christmas lights on a tree could test the patience of a saint. They found two big boxes of the damned things—dozens of strands of white lights—and went to work replacing old bulbs and putting the strands on the tree one by one. Rain took charge, imparting her vastly superior experience in Christmas tree decorating to him.

“You don’t want to drape the lights over the ends of the branches. You need to weave them through the tree, get them deep inside.”

She showed him how this was done, starting at the bottom of the tree and passing the lighted strand around its girth to him, their fingers brushing as they handed the strand back and forth. Awareness sang through him at her touch. Their gazes met through the tree’s green branches, the warmth in her eyes a provocation.

Twinkling lights. Soft music. The scent of pine.

Damn.

Joe was in trouble. He knew he ought to distance himself from her somehow, maybe go back outside and try digging out his Land Rover again, but he couldn’t get himself to step away. Their fingers lingered now, the touch deliberate.

They put strand after strand on the tree until it glittered and Joe was about to lose his mind. Then they moved to the ornaments—a new kind of torture. Every time they opened a box, a look of wonder came over Rain’s face, her smile and happiness putting a hitch in his chest. His pulse was tripping, and he wasn’t even touching her.

Jesus.

He got to his feet, walked to the window, needing some distance.

“These must be antique.” She held up a trio of angels. “Look. The faces are made of painted wax, not plastic.”

 “Yeah.” He turned to look out onto a windswept world of white, working to get his emotions under control, while she continued to rummage through the box.

“Oh!”

He heard her exclamation, recognized the excitement in her voice, but didn’t turn to see what she’d discovered, too caught up in his own feelings.
“Do you have any tape or thumbtacks?”

He answered without facing her. “They’re in the drawer next to the fridge.”

When are you going to tell Rain how you feel about her?

Rico’s words came back to him. Damn Rico anyway. What the hell did he expect Joe to do? Was he supposed to pull Rain aside and admit to her that he’d had sexual fantasies about her for far too long? Should he tell her that her smile, her laughter, the very sight of her put a warm feeling in his chest or confess that he spent more time at Knockers than he needed to so he could be close to her?

Listen to yourself. You’re pathetic, man.

When this storm passed, he would make an effort to meet someone again. He’d sign up on one of those online dating sites and—

“Oh, Joe.” There was a sing-song tone to her voice that cut through his thoughts.

He turned to find her standing in front of the sofa, a teasing smile on her lips, a look of expectation on her face.

She looked up at the ceiling, drawing his gaze with hers.

Hell.

Mistletoe.

It was plastic, but she didn’t seem to care.

“Rain.” He shook his head, but his feet began to move. “I’m your boss.”

Her gaze held his, an almost pleading look in her eyes. “Oh, who cares? It’s Christmas. I’m not going to sue you, if that’s what you think.”

“It’s not that.” Joe had come from a long line of assholes, and he was trying desperately not to become one himself.

Just give her a quick peck on the cheek.

Okay. Yeah. Sure. He could do that.

He closed the distance between them, hesitated for a moment, then ducked down to press his lips to her cheek. But his body betrayed him, and his mouth found its way to hers. It was just a brushing of lips, but the shock of it brought him back for another pass and another. Her lips were warm, soft, pliant, the sweet scent of her skin intoxicating. But he was going to stop. Any moment now, he would draw away from her and end this incredible … exhilarating… foolishness.

It was her little sigh of pleasure that undid him.

He drew her against him, claiming her mouth in a hungry kiss. She came alive in his arms, arching against him, matching his fervor, her tongue meeting his stroke for stroke, her fingers curling in his hair. God, she tasted like heaven and felt perfect in his arms, her breasts pressing against his chest, her body soft in all the right places.

Joe’s heart thrummed, blood surging to his groin. Some part of him realized that he hadn’t stopped, that he was still kissing her, but he didn’t care, not when kissing her felt so… damned … right. He nipped her lower lip, drew it into his mouth, felt her tongue graze his upper lip, her fingers fisting in his hair.

Whether she stumbled backward onto the sofa or whether he urged her, he couldn’t say, but one moment they were standing, and the next he was lying on top of her, pressing kisses along her throat, her pulse frantic beneath his lips.

She whimpered, her hips moving beneath his, grinding herself against his erection. She reached for the top button on his jeans. “Joe. I want you.”

“Yes.” What the hell had he just said? “No. No, Rain, we can’t.”

“Why not?” Rain stared up at him, disappointment and desire naked in her eyes. “We’re adults. I want you. You want me.”

As if the hard-on in his jeans left any doubt about that.

“I’m your employer, Rain.” Joe pulled away from her and got to his feet, everything inside him protesting the abrupt loss of contact. Not sure what to do or say, he started packing together the empty boxes.

“Seriously? That is your excuse? I told you. I’m not going to sue.”

“Do you really think I’ve got some kind of risk assessment going on in my head right now?” He glanced over at her. “I’m trying to be fair to you.”

Her expression fell, and she broke eye contact.

Shit. 

He’d hurt her. He didn’t want that. “Rain, I—”

“It’s okay, Joe.” She stood, smoothing her hands over her blouse. “Let’s get these boxes put away and have some cookies.”

Joe said what he’d been trying to say. “I care about you.”

“I know. You care about all of the staff.” She packed tissue paper into two empty boxes then closed them, shutting herself off from him, too.

This is what happened when he ignored his own better sense. He shouldn’t have kissed her in the first place. What the hell had he been thinking?

Copyright (c) 2017 Pamela Clare — All rights reserved

I swore I’d do a better job keeping up with this blog, but I have failed. So much has happened in the past couple of months.

I took a trip to Canada and spent a week with my friend Kaylea Cross. It was the first time we met in person. The week was packed with adventure. We went on a whale-watching tour in an old refitted US NAVY RHIB (rigid-hull inflatable boat) and saw orcas.




It was my first time seeing any large sea mammal, so I was excited out of my mind. The water was very choppy, and it was raining, which  meant we were slammed around in the boat a bit and were hit in the pelted in the face with drops of water that hurt. Still, it was a blast!



I have to say that Kaylea has an uncanny ability to spot orca fins, whale blows, and whales in general from a mile away. She has the best eyes. She loves whales, so we really enjoyed that.


A couple days later, we flew via helicopter to Ucluelet on Vancouver Island and spent a week plotting together, going for hikes through the temperate rain forest and enjoying the beach. Then we flew back to Vancouver by helicopter, getting a beautiful view of the ocean, the coastline, a plane crash, and the forests of British Columbia. This wasn't my first time in a helo. The last time I was in a helicopter, I was being flown from Mt. Ida, where I’d fallen, to a trauma center. This time was much more fun.



In the meantime, I’ve been working hard on CLOSE TO HEAVEN , A Colorado High Country Christmas, which will be out before the end of October.

This was supposed to be a novella, but it defied my wishes and became a 50,000+ word novel. It tells the story of Rain Minear and Joe Moffat, the reclusive and eccentric owner of Knockers, Scarlet Springs’ one and only brew pub. These two have known each other for 20 years, since Rain was 17 and Joe was 27.

We’re getting a look at the history of Scarlet Springs in this story, including a chance to meet some of the ancestors of our favorite Scarlet Springs characters. We also get to see why Joe keeps to himself—and why he has suppressed his feelings for Rain for so many years.

I hope you’ll enjoy the story. It will be out before the end of the month!

Watch for an excerpt!

The more we do for ourselves, the more power we have over our own lives. With the world and the country in the state they’re in, it is super important to build security for ourselves and our neighborhoods however we can. Food security is vital.

I have always believed this. It’s in my DNA. My grandparents on both sides grew most their own food, and my parents always had a big vegetable garden. I can’t seem to shake the urge to grow things.

Before I had spinal surgery in 2010, we were growing most of the vegetables we ate through the summer in a patch of amended soil on the south side of our home. Everything was organic and fresh and so delicious that it ruined store-bought veggies for us. But spinal surgery changed what I was capable of doing, and the urban farm was let go.

Now it’s 2017, and the urban farm is back. In fact, it’s better than before. We’re planting everything in hand-mixed soil in raised beds so that I can garden again. In addition, we planted an orchard — eight dwarf fruit trees — in hopes of having a big store of fruit each fall once the trees mature. We also wanted to add to the urban forest canopy to decrease our carbon footprint.

We implemented Phase I this spring. For some ridiculous reason, most of the work of this transformation was listed under Phase I, so this phase felt eternal. It started in march with covering a big percentage of our lawn with weed cloth and 16 cubic feet of mulch and then transplanting seven rose bushes and one giant delphinium from the old rose bed to new beds.

I thought you might want to see what it looks like these days.

We planted two apple trees — Fireside (at top) and Honeycrisp (below). We weren’t expecting fruit this year, but both trees are producing so well that we’ve had to stake most of the branches to protect them, even after culling less desireable fruit from the trees.


You can see the rasberry beds behind Honeycrisp. The plants are thriving and producing a small amount of fruit, which is what one would expect for their first year.




We also planted two cherry trees — Sweet Cherry Pie and Evans Bali — and got precisely five cherries this year. That’s about 500 percent more than we were anticipating. 

Next to the rasperry beds, we have the first of four strawberry beds. We installed a sprinkler system to make it easy for me to water everything. Behind the strawberry bed are our two blackberry bushes and some pretty yard art — a fleur de lis. The raspberry bushes are at right in the photo below.


The photo below shows much of the backyard, with all of the fruit trees, the berry beds, and a glimpse of our transplanted roses. 


You can see how much of the grass we eliminted with mulch. This strip (below) is going to become a row of raised vegetable beds. After everything else, we managed only one raised veggie bed, and that went to tomatoes. Hey, we have our priorities straight. 


We’re doing what we can with whisky barrels. We have herbs and potatoes planted in large containers and whisky barrels on one side of the yard. We also have three blueberry bushes planted in whisky barrels along the fence in the photo above. We will probably add to that number.
We're looking forward to harvesting the potatoes soon.



Our first ripe tomatoes will be coming this week. These are black cherry tomatoes (below). You really can’t have too many tomatoes.


This shows the raised tomato bed, some volunteer sunflowers, and the three whisky barrels with blueberry bushes growing in them. (There are very few ways to grow blueberries in Colorado because our soil is too alkaline to support them even with amendments.)



Our peach tree has precisely 21 small fuzzy peaches on it. Boy, are we looking forward to those! We planted the peach tree, two pear trees and a plum on the south side of our house in the most sheltered area. Peach trees aren’t guaranteed to produce every year on Colorado’s Front Range. We get too many late-spring cold snaps and have such crazy changing temperatures that the blossoms tend to get frozen. We are hoping for the best.

Of course, among the edibles one must have sniffables. These are our transplanted roses and the bed that contains sunflowers (planted by squirrels), hollyhocks, and clematis. The roses all survived, which is a huge relief to us. They’re small this year, but they all blossomed, as you can see below.


Below is a closer shot of Europeana, one of my favorites. It’s such a brilliant shade of red.

Pink poppies are just starting to bloom. I planted these this year, also.


We also planted two pines — one in front and one in back. They do well in our climate and soil, and they give us something to decorate at Christmastime. 


I hope you enjoyed this quick tour of the backyard orchard at Casa Clare and the glimpse of that we’ve planted this spring. It’s a building process, and this is just a start. I hope one day to be canning and setting aside large amounts of food from the garden, adding to our food security and independence. 
If I have my way, I will one day be able to move forward with a local organization that helps people grow their own food and creates community gardens for those who don't have suitable space for growing. Food security is about independence. It’s about saving money. It’s about community and helping to make sure our neighborhoods and cities have some control over where our food is grown and what’s on it. 
Also, it’s about YUMMY. We can’t wait for those peaches and the apples to ripen. 
Speaking of Christmas — okay, I mentioned it — I need to stop posting and get back to Joe and Rain’ story. Rain is about to have a very bad night.
Have a good week, everyone!