New Release: Cowboy Lullaby!

Title: COWBOY LULLABY

Author: Kadian Tracey

Genre: Interracial, Sensual Romance

Length: Novel

Now Available in eBook

Abuse is something Jennifer Cozel knows very well.

Growing up with a father who hates her, Jennifer suffered through hell. After her father gets killed in a drunk driving accident with no will, no money, eighteen year old Jennifer Cozel is left to fend for herself.

She moves to Barley and settles into the mundane existence of small town waitress she believes she deserves. That is until Sherif Rone Jennings steps into her life with a glimpse into a world she so desperately yearns for.
But how do you fix someone that is so horribly broken?

Sheriff Rone Jennings takes one look at Jennifer Cozel and wants her. Something about her just screams a real woman. But getting to know the volutuous waitress is not easy for she is fighting him at every turn. When he finds out about her past, anger like he never felt before surges through him but what good will that doo? Rone is determined to not only help Jennifer heal, but to make her see not all love is painful

EXCERPT

What day is it?

The rain had long stopped pounding against the class and the old tree just to the right of her window hadn’t crashed into the side of the house for a good ten minutes. Still those thoughts seemed almost trivial to what was happening inside Jennifer Cozel’s mind. Her heart didn’t care as well for it was too busy pounding inside her chest as though it wanted to hop out and run away. Another loud bang sounded from somewhere in the house and she jumped. Her eyes caught the chest behind the door then lifted to see if the door handle would twist to the right then to the left. When nothing happened but another loud crash of something hitting the wall hard, she shifted slightly to alleviate the pain her legs were starting to send through her.

Jennifer trembled at her father's footsteps storming through the house. He'd been on one of his binges again which put him in a mood. Two days of a steady intake of alcohol with no food always did that to him. Each morning she had to lug the bag of liquor bottles to the recycle bin at the back of the house once he’d gone off to work or fallen asleep after a night of hard drinking. Lately, she’d made more than two trips. How one person could drink so much and still be able to function was beyond her. The nights when his favorite baseball team lost were the worst and the mornings after even harder.  She learned a long time ago to stay out of his way when he drank for when he was drunk the really mean side of him came out—which was all the time. The sad truth was Jennifer couldn’t remember a time when her father was sober. He drank to wake up, drank to fall asleep and drank to silence the demons inside his head. She often times heard him yelling at them when he wasn’t screaming at her. He drank when he was happy, when he was sad but most importantly, he drank whenever he looked at her then sobbed. As far as she knew his problem was her fault.

Whenever he was really hammered, he remembered his dead wife and Jennifer paid for it because he would break into her room and beat her until she was unconscious. Afterward, he’d fill a bucket with cold water and toss it in her face. That was a horrid way to wake anyone up for she’d jerk upright, screaming then clawing at her neck. The cold water against her body left her gasping for breath.

Jennifer would never get used to that.

She was on her final semester in high school and was pretty sure she was going to fail.  She'd been cooped up in her room for three days for her father forbade her to go to classes.  He saw school made her happy. He couldn’t touch her while she was at school and every fibre of him hated that. When she was at school she was someone—people knew who she was. After she turned eighteen, the county no longer required her to go to school. If she missed too many classes no one would call the house or threaten to call child services. He smirked as he told her she was no longer to leave the house for school, as a matter of fact—she must no longer leave the house period. Jennifer was terrified so she listened and remained hidden in her room.

 Whenever she heard the car leaving, she would peer out her window and watch until the car had long since gone before tiptoeing out of her room to get something to eat. But she couldn't take anything he would miss.  Luckily she'd stashed a couple of Jamaican buns with a tin of cheese in her room so all she really needed was water. As long as she didn’t open the can with the cheese, she could keep it hidden in her room for as long as she needed. Filling her traveler’s mug with cold water she drank the whole thing and refilled it. The next thing on her list was to look around ensuring nothing was moved or out of place before returning to her bedroom, locked the door and shoved her chest holding her sheets behind it.

          The buns she'd bought were getting smaller. Jennifer wasn't sure how much longer they would last. After that she was out of money, out of food and out of luck. Sometimes her best friend would sneak something over and she would quickly eat it. Gale was good for Jennifer, but she couldn’t let her father know about Gale.  When she was ten, her father came home to Jennifer sitting in the living room with another little girl from school.  After he pushed the girl out the door and tossed the books after her, he tied Jennifer to a tree outside until the next morning. He then cut her loose and left her lying there weak and half starving.

She made a mental note to see if she could get a couple extra shifts at her school cleaning up after the girl's rugby team. If she could manage that she should be good for what she needed for a little bit while she scrounged for more.

          Breaking a piece of the bun off, Jennifer shoved it into her mouth. The sweet of it flooded her senses, causing her to moan and rest helplessly against the bed.  Her eyes caught the scars on her leg when she stretched them out before her.  Swallowing the lump in her throat, Jennifer used her free hand and tugged her dress down to cover them. When it didn’t cover her ankles, she curled her legs beneath her bum and took a breath. Suddenly she wasn't hungry anymore.

          In a state of heightened fear, she sat in the same position until her legs cramped, throbbed then went numb.  Still, she daren't move. The darkness flowed in through the window and still she didn't move. Her eyes burned and from time to time she forced herself to blink.  Though she yearned for sleep, she couldn't. Every time her eyes closed she remembered her father then jerked awake.  He was drinking that evening.

She wouldn’t be getting any sleep.

          A loud bang on the front door pulled her upward. She grabbed the bun she'd still have out, wrapped it up and shoved it into her bag. She pushed the bag under her bed and pulled the sheets down over it. Glancing around to ensure nothing was out so he could see if he broke in. She took a breath and rose.  Her legs trembled, weak by the position they'd been in for such a long time.  She slumped forward, catching herself on the edge of the bed. Shaking her legs, Jennifer tried working out the numbness. When she finally got some feeling back into her legs, she had to wiggle them more to get the pins and needles feeling out. 

          The knock came again.

          The fact she'd missed a car pulling up was scary to her. But she was exhausted. The knock sounded once more and by this time, Jennifer sucked in enough courage to actually leave her room.  She pulled the chest from before the door, and stuck her head out.  The hallway was spotless, silent.  The walls were devoid of pictures. The halls empty of any kind of fixture except a solitary light bulb on at the end of the hall on the centre wall.

          On the tips of her toes, she scurried from her room and peered over the balcony before hurrying down the stairs.  She peeked into the scantily furnished room.  Marshal wasn't there. When she got to the front door, she pulled her sleeves down over her arms, took a breath and pulled the door open.

          To her shock and relief her father wasn't standing there. Instead, two police officers faced her.

          "May—may I help you?" Jennifer asked softly, ensuring not to meet their eyes.

          "Hi, your name?" one asked. He gave her a grim smile, one she’d recognize anywhere. Jennifer was used to sadness.

          "Jennifer, Jennifer Cozel."

          "Do you know a Marshall Cozel?"

          Jennifer nodded. She couldn't speak for the lump in her throat just wouldn't allow the words to come out. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “He’s my father.”

          "I'm afraid we have some bad news." The other officer spoke up. "Your father was killed a little earlier in an accident."

          Jennifer stood before the police officers with her arms wrapped around herself. If her father was dead it was no accident. He was probably too wasted or too hung over to see where he was going and crashed into a tree.

          "Did you hear me ma'am?" the cop asked. "Your father is dead. He ran a red light and was struck by a drunk driver going the other way."

          I knew it.

          Eighteen year old Jennifer blinked, then nodded. "I heard you. He was drinking.”

“We figured. There was a bottle of Jack Daniels in the car after they managed to cut him out with the Jaws of Life.”

“Did anyone else got hurt?” she whispered.

“Yes. The driver in the other car but nothing life threatening.”

“What’s good. My father is always drinking.”A sinking feeling pulsed through her, leaving her feeling empty. Still she was left with a profound sense of something urgent, something on the point of breaking inside. "Thank you for informing me officers," Jennifer squeaked. "Where can I...can I..."

          "His body is at the morgue." One of the cops handed her a card.  "You can go here and identify it."

          She wrapped her fingers around the card and nodded again. They probably thought she was a bloody mute.

          "We're really sorry for your loss."

          She smiled tightly and backed into the house and closed the door.

In the Name of Love!

After a long wait, my brand new title is available for sale! You can snag your copy from Passion in Print. Or by clicking here.  Here is a peek and the blurb.

If Jessa isn’t afraid to beg for forgiveness, she could make her wildest dreams come true.

Jessa Phillips has the life she’s always dreamed of—a thriving wedding gown boutique, a loving sister and a wonderful brother-in-law. The only thing missing is the love of her life, Cassius Oppa.  But her bubble is about to burst when her sister is in a severe car accident and on her death bed reveals a secret that changes everything.

The night his courtship of Jessa Phillips went horrible wrong, a young Cassius Oppa packed up, jumped on his motor cycle and fled the small town.  After spending days homeless, he sold his family’s prized guitar and joined the Air Force.  Years later, he’s out and living his dream when Jessa Phillips turns up on his doorstep.  A storm is brewing and after, what will be left?

Excerpt:

Jessa scanned through the racks of white wedding dresses. It was taking too long. This bride was starting to get on Jessa’s last nerve. Finding a gown in the back of the stack, she pulled it out and held it up to the light. The dress wasn’t going to work—she could just feel it. The truth was she was running out of options. It was as if the woman didn’t understand Jessa had a life outside the damn store. Stopping, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes in an attempt at reigning in her quickly shortening fuse. All she had to do was pick the perfect dress for the overly picky bride without killing her and things would be perfect. She glanced at the clock. Time was quickly running out or she would have to work overtime. She finally found a dress, said a small prayer and slipped a smile to her lips. 

            If this chick doesn’t like this dress I swear someone is going to have to bail me out of jail!

            She brought the dress into the room where the soon-to-be bride sat and held it up. “All right,” Jessa said, hanging the dress up and slipping the protective covering off. “This dress I found in our storeroom. It’s two thousand over your budget but you said price wasn’t an option.”

            While the woman’s maid of honor, mother-in-law, and her sister waited in the sitting room, Jessa helped her client put on the dress and pinned up the back properly so it fit. She then walked her client back to her entourage. “So? What do you think?”

            “Well,” the bridge-to-be started. She turned one way, then the next, looking at herself in the mirror. Her family was sitting there with looks of amazement, but Jessa was beyond giving a damn anymore. They’d been at it for at least three hours and Jessa just wanted to go home. “What do you think?”

            “This is the dress!” The bride flailed happily.

            “You’re serious?” Jessa questioned, fixing the veil.

            “Yes! I love it!”

            Finally!

            The woman hugged Jessa so tightly she thought she was going to burst. But she finished up the sale, put in the order for the wedding dress and after the wedding party left, she turned around and stared at the empty store. Rushing, she closed the front door before someone else walked in. She’d long since sent home her two other consultants and wasn’t about to handle another bride by herself that day. Her temper wouldn’t hold out—she knew it.

            She stared now at the cash register with contempt. Now she had to cash it out and do all the mathematics for the day’s sales. She set it up to print the day’s receipt and was going to get some coffee when the telephone rang.  Arching a brow, she glanced at the clock debating whether or not to pick it up.

            With a roll of her shoulders, she reached for the cordless and trudged her way towards the back room. “Happily Ever After, Jessa speaking. How may I help you?”

            “Is this Jessa Phillips?” The voice questioned.

            “Yes. Who’s calling?”

            “My name is Andrew Mullings from the Mercy of Grace Hospital. I’m calling about your sister, Kelly.”

            “What about her?”

            “I’m sorry to be the one to inform you of this.” His voice cracked. “But your sister is in surgery. If you could…”

            He didn’t have time to finish for she had dropped the phone and was reaching for the keys. The cash register was still going but she couldn’t wait for it. If her sister was in surgery, she couldn’t really stop to wait the hour it took to cash out. With her cell phone and keys, she darted through the door, -only stopping long enough to turn off the lights and lock the doors behind her- then ran as fast as her stilettos could carry her to her Corvette. She sped from the parking lot, zooming into traffic without looking. That caused a whole bunch of horns to blare, but Jessa couldn’t care. She sped through a yellow light. Her heart hammered against her chest as worry danced through her mind. When she spoke to her sister the day before, Kelly was ecstatic. She was getting married in three weeks and her career had finally taken off. What in the world could have happened between that conversation and the end of the day?

            She got caught behind a truck. Rage surged through her veins as she slammed her fist over the horn, darted out into the left lane, sped up and cut in front of the truck before ramming her foot against the gas. 

            At the hospital, Jessa shoved her beautiful, silver bullet into a parking spot and slammed the door after her. With her purse in hand, she ran through the front door. Skidding to a halt at the front desk she leaned half her body over the counter and tapped the nurse on the shoulder. The poor nurse, whose back was to the front, gasped and swung around but Jessa couldn’t think to apologize.

            “I’m Jessa Phillips. Someone called me about my sister, Kelly Phillips?”

            “Oh yes! Miss Phillips. Take that elevator to the sixth floor and go left out the elevator to the front desk. They’ll be able to tell you about your sister’s condition.”

            With a simple nod of her head, Jessa did as the nurse bade her. At the front desk she nodded numbly as the nurse asked her to wait a few minutes for a doctor. She probably should have been angry they weren’t telling her anything but by then she was exhausted. Pacing the space, she tried telling herself that things weren’t as bad as she thought. Nothing could be as bad as her mind was telling her. Her sister would be fine—Kelly had to be fine. The truth was, Kelly and her fiancée Chris were the only family she had left.

            “Miss Phillips?”

            Jessa spun around at her name. A doctor stood there with a clipboard shoving a pen into his breast pocket and looking at her as though his best friend had just died.

            “How’s my sister?” Jessa questioned.

            “Your sister was in a car accident,” he replied. “Does she have a boyfriend, husband, or any other family?”

“Yes. A fiancé—wha-what’s going on?”

“He should probably be here right now.”

            “He’s in Japan on business. I’ll try getting a hold of him but tell me about Kelly!”

            “She’s bleeding internally—severely. We’ve tried for the past two hours to stop it but we can’t. Her blood just isn’t clotting and right now there’s nothing we can do for her but make her as comfortable as possible.”

            “No— No,” Jessa whispered. “You can’t tell me that there’s nothing you can do! She’s getting married, damn it! She can’t die!”          

Welcome Liz Newman!

The world didn't end on the twelfth, but those preaching gloom and doom say we are now at the beginning of the end.  It is no wonder that readers have a fascination with love and dystopia.  Some of the most popular books today, such as The Hunger Games series or even Water for Elephants, have strong romantic elements centered upon the fringes of a dystopian setting.  The Hunger Games takes place in the post-war United States, dubbed the civilization of Panem, and Water for Elephants is set against the backdrop of a failing circus on the fringe of bankruptcy during the Depression.  Both of these stories would not be as outstanding as they were if either the dystopian element or the romantic element was taken away.  Both of these stories would not have the romantic element if the dystopian element was not added to the plot's formula.  The idea of dystopia existed in these two stories on both the macrocosmic level, as in The Hunger Games where a society lived it, and on a microcosmic level, as in Water for Elephants, where a small circus struggled to survive in a society where almost every other factor worked against it, even the owners themselves.

Thus can the same with life, or romance as we know it in life.  Our greatest romance is found in our greatest time of need, where we are emotionally downtrodden and in need of more than a good friend or casual lover.  We become in need of something to make our lives meaningful; something which takes away the befuddlement we feel when faced with the human condition of loneliness.  The realization of this human condition is dystopia on a microcosmic level.  In fiction, the human condition of loneliness is the essence of conflict itself.  The demons or angels that accompany this realization are manifested in our supporting characters, our antagonists, and our hero or heroine's actions.  Love and dystopia are two sides of the same coin.  Some may argue that Utopia should make up the flip side of that coin, but I beg to disagree.  Utopia and Dystopia can both be regarded as the soil upon which love can grow.  That makes love an absolutely wonderful and divine aspect of human life, a beacon of hope we can all count on, no matter where we live or what environment we are surrounded with.  We can always count on the proliferation of love.

My newest work, The Ashes of Windsor, is the story of two teens who are in love and struggling to survive in the dystopian environment of New York after nuclear war. Thrust into the world of the fallout, Inari Giles grasps for the strength to survive. Peter Huntford, her beloved boyfriend, vows to bring Inari to Arcadia, a haven that will only accept young women of childbearing age through its gates. Will he find a way to bring her to safety, even at the cost of his own life?

Here is an excerpt:

I tilted my face up to his and gazed into his hazel eyes. Reaching out, my hand caressed the side of his face. He leaned forward and kissed me as he gripped my upper arm. The softness of his lips, coupled with the moist, cool wetness of the water on his face, stirred my body so intensely I quivered despite the unseasonable heat. The feel of his heartbeat through his muscular chest made me short of breath, and I reflexively curved my body into his. The firmness of his body contrasted with my softness, and the feel of his fingertips dancing from my shoulder to the curve of my waist incited such a feeling of contentment the nearness of him made me feel complete, as if there were nothing more to want in the world than this moment.

Rising from the ground with his glorious body gleaming in the golden sun, he climbed up the Ouaquaga Bridge. Spreading his arms out into a wide V, he vaulted himself into the air, bringing his hands together and tilting himself into the perfect dive. The maple trees and lush green brush provided the perfect backdrop to the picturesque spectacle he made. He disappeared under the crystalline surface of the water.

I walked towards him, undulating my hips as his eyes popped up from the surface of the river. “You look like a crocodile,” I called as my body became submerged under the water. We swam towards each other. He circled his arms around me, and we went under, twirling deep into the water, intertwined in a place where we held our breath. For a few fleeting moments, we needed no air to sustain ourselves. We needed nothing but the love we had for each other to survive the depths. My lips met his again and again as he held me close, and when we couldn’t hold our breath any longer, we kicked for the surface. Emerging upon the banks until the water covered us only from the waist down, we breathed in deeply to fill our lungs with air again. He took me into his arms and kissed me, and I held tight to his embrace. The feel of his skin coupled with the heat of the sun made me gasp with desire.

Thank you for reading this post, and please do leave a comment.  You may win a free eBook of The Ashes of Windsor, an Amazon gift card, or a box of delicious chocolates from the Helen Grace confectionery.  I will also be online chatting with other Devine Destinies authors at our annual holiday party and giveaway at 7pm on Saturday, December 15th at http://www.extasychat.com.  Stop by and win free eBooks and other prizes.

Wishing you a holiday season filled with blessings.

Warmly,

Liz Newman

View the book trailer for The Ashes of Windsor at http://www.lizrnewman.net/book-trailers.html

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