The knowledgeable and well-read EC is hosting Keeper and I today. Thanks, EC. Appreciate ya.
Greetings blogger buds. How was your weekend and Monday?
I guess Callie is an ICE AGE fan too:)
The HH was having discomfort when he walked. Thinking his sock had got balled up, he took it off and two pieces of kibble came rolling out. Hmmm. I wonder how they got in there;)
In case I didn't mention it before, and bad on me if I didn't, but the lovely-souled and talented Stacy at Magic Crow was kind enough to surprise me with a Keeper post at Stacy's Magic Love Crows. Thank you, Stacy. It was very much appreciated, as are you.
The lovely and creative Birgit for featuring me on FaceBook. Much appreciated since I don't have a FB page.
The generous-with-her-time-and-energy wordsmith Sherri Hollister for featuring Keeper in her newsletter.
Last but not least the YA author who writes with depth and emotion, C Lee McKenzie featured me yesterday and today.
This should read Flowers For Y'all:)
That's all I've got folks. Other than Keeper's launch it's been pretty quiet. Thanks to those of you who are and have hosted, visited the other blogs hosting, picked up a copy or plan on reviewing. I appreciate you all.
Phrase of the day: Between hay and grass
Like we do today, the cowboys of the old West used a good bit of slang. Between hay and grass refers to a young person. Not quite a child anymore but not an adult. The boy was between hay and grass.
Keeper Tyree is an aging bounty hunter who lives by his own set of rules. He’s a hard man, but he’s just, and his word is his bond. He’s a loner and likes it that way. Then Cathleen O’Donnell catapults into his life looking to hire his gun. Josiah Pardee has killed her boy, and she’s out for vengeance. Somehow all his hard and fast rules, including working alone and minding his own business, crumbles in the face of the immovable widow he now works for. He finds himself rescuing soiled doves, a myopic bookworm more suited to city life than the Wild West, and an hombre being dragged to death by angry cardplayers, as he tracks down the murdering sidewinder Josiah Pardee.
No tinny piano. No rotgut whiskey. No barroom
brawls. Just peace, quiet and the early morning
sun, shining through white ruffled curtains, warming the back of Keeper Tyree’s neck and soothing his arthritis. He brought his coffee to his lips and sighed with pleasure. Like his landlady it was strong and full-bodied, just the way he liked.
Molly, the owner of the boarding house he resided in, came by with the coffeepot. She winked at him and, giggling, moved out of reach when he went to pat her fanny, disappearing into the kitchen where the smells of breakfast potatoes, steak and eggs loosened his muscles and had his stomach growling in anticipation.
Heels clicked on the spotless, honey-colored wood floor. A woman so thin, she’d be lost if she turned sideways, approached from the doorway. She’d be striking if slashes of grief didn’t line her mouth and despair turn her eyes to a wintry slate blue. Still, they met his, direct and unswerving. A black ribbon held back hair as dark as a raven’s wing, except for streaks of white at the temples. Cheekbones sharp enough to cut paper held no color.
She stopped in front of him.
“Ma’am.” The chair scraped across the floor as he pushed to his feet.
“Are you Keeper Tyree?”
“Do you know of Josiah Pardee?”
“I do.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels, his voice rough and raspy from too much whiskey and too many cigars.
“He killed my son over a saloon tart. My boy wasn’t even armed.” The woman looked brittle as dry timber. He fancied if he rested a hand on her arm it would break like kindling. Only her voice and eyes showed emotion. A fire burning almost out of control leaped bright and violent behind her eyes, taking them from wintery blue-gray to heated sapphire.
“You have my sympathy.”
The almond-shaped eyes drilled into him. “I don’t want your sympathy. I want your gun. I want that man as cold and dead as my son.”
Order link: https://tinyurl.com/KeeperTyree
Did you know, daffodils can be hazardous to the health of your other flowers because they secrete an alkaloid sap?
Addendum to the above. Daffodils are poisonous to animals, and you don't want to put them in an arrangement because of the sap, but in the garden it would probably depend on whether the other plants came in contact with the sap or the crystals.
Greetings Blogger Buds. How was your weekend? Your Monday?
We took a day trip into the mountains with a couple of buds and had all kinds of fun. We walked around Blowing Rock where I picked up a rain gauge. Frank is putting his seal of approval on it.
One of the buds chauffeured us in her Tesla. Have you ever ridden in one? Oh my gosh. It's an amazing car. If I was in a different income bracket (heh) I'd buy one in a heartbeat. Plenty of leg room in the backseat. This one had two sunroofs. One in the front. One in the back. A computer screen up front that showed the car and the traffic around it. Since it doesn't have an engine, it has two trunks. And pickup. Wowzers. There's not that few second delay before the car takes off. The foot goes down, the car zips forward.
We arrived home tired but happy.
Frank taking a break from patrolling the parameters of his property:)
Frank loves canned chicken cat food with carrots, but turns up his nose at canned chicken food with greens. Go figure.
A Home Remedy That Worked For Me.
I got stung by a big ole, bad-tempered, mean, nasty bumble bee. May he find his way to Bumble Bee hell. You know the huge ones with wide black and yellow stripes. Almost immediately my arm swelled up and turned brick red. I tried an over the counter cream for two days. The third I was contemplating going to Urgent Care when I decided to try a baking soda paste. By the end of the day nearly all the swelling was gone and the redness down to a small blotch.
What about you, blogger buds? How was your weekend and/or your Monday? Do anything fun? Had any run ins with bumble bees?
A boy blinded by fire. A woman raised by wolves. An avowed enemy offers help.
In this second of the Dawn of Humanity trilogy, the first trilogy in the Man vs. Nature saga, Lucy and her eclectic group escape the treacherous tribe that has been hunting them and find a safe haven in the famous Wonderwerk caves in South Africa. Though they don’t know it, they will be the oldest known occupation of caves by humans. They don’t have clothing, fire, or weapons, but the caves keep them warm and food is plentiful. But they can't stay, not with the rest of the tribe enslaved by an enemy. To free them requires not only the prodigious skills of Lucy's unique group--which includes a proto-wolf and a female raised by the pack--but others who have no reason to assist her and instinct tells Lucy she shouldn't trust.
Set 1.8 million years ago in Africa, Lucy and her tribe struggle against the harsh reality of a world ruled by nature, where predators stalk them and a violent new species of man threatens to destroy their world. Only by changing can they prevail. If you ever wondered how earliest man survived but couldn’t get through the academic discussions, this book is for you. Prepare to see this violent and beautiful world in a way you never imagined.
Jacqui Murray is the author of the popular prehistoric fiction saga, Man vs. Nature which explores seminal events in man’s evolution one trilogy at a time. She is also the author of the Rowe-Delamagente thrillers and Building a Midshipman, the story of her daughter’s journey from high school to United States Naval Academy. Her non-fiction includes over a hundred books on integrating tech into education, reviews as an Amazon Vine Voice, a columnist for NEA Today, and a freelance journalist on tech ed topics. Look for her next prehistoric fiction, Natural Selection, Winter 2022.
Social Media contacts:
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Jacqui-
Available for pre-order at Amazon.