December 1st...can you believe it?
Me either but time just keeps marching on and today it's marching to the beat of Linda Carroll-Bradd's thoughts....
One of the reasons I wanted to write Silent Signals was my love for my interaction with my own dog, Keiko. She’s a Shiba Inu which is the smallest of six Japanese breeds (Akita being the largest) that almost died out during World War II. When she was a pup, I enrolled us in dog agility classes which made for lots of fun, and frustration, as I used the signals the instructor taught to indicate which apparatus was next in the cycle. Keiko had her own ideas and often balked at doing certain exercises or decided once she was off lead was the time to run around the enclosure.
Because of that experience, I wanted to write a heroine who had better control of her dogs. Enter Anora Huxley who works with Australian Shepherds (an American breed which has an ancestor in the dogs imported to America from Australia during the mid-19th century along with flocks of sheep) and Kelpies. Anora in turn teaches Konrad the hand signals and whistles involved in getting the dogs to herd other animals. The training leads to deepening emotions and…
After losing half his herd in the Great Blizzard of 1886, rancher Konrad Werner needs to safeguard his cattle. Tomboy Anora Huxley trains the Australian Shepherds and Kelpies that run the family’s sheep herd. Although cattlemen and shepherds are at odds, the pair discovers common interests. A threat is overheard, and Konrad rides out to Anora’s ranch to protect her. The tense situation reveals their true feelings. Will Anora be swayed by family loyalty, or will she listen to her heart that responds to Konrad’s silent signals?
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Twirling her finger like a tornado, Celina grinned. “Turn so I can see from all angles.”
“And I can move.” First, she bent over to touch her toes. “See?”
Then, with hands on her waist, she leaned from side to side. She was just finishing the last quarter of her second spin to display her outfit when the bell over the door tinkled.
“Gaelle, you about ready to leave?” a deep voice asked.
At the familiar sound, Anora gasped. She dropped her hands to her sides at the same moment she came to a stop at the sight of that man filling the doorway. Her skirts swished around her legs a couple of times before settling.
“Yes, I’m ready.” Gaelle was quick to answer.
His eyes widened as he ran his gaze down her length from head to toe and then flicked to the table where her underthings lay. With a slow move, he dragged his hat off his head and pushed the door closed behind him. A quirk pulled at one corner of his mouth.
Beard-stubbled, the man had been good looking. Clean-shaven, he was downright handsome. Heat flashed in Anora’s cheeks, and she panted, not taking in enough air. Certainly this breathlessness had to do with the corset, and not with the appearance of this attractive but arrogant man. Her gaze caught his dark one, the color of hot cocoa, and her stomach leapt, like when she took a tumble. She had to look away.
Stifling a squeal, she dashed forward, bunched the garments together, and stuffed them under her coat. Then she whirled and pinned him with a hard stare. “What on earth are you doing here?”
As a young girl, Linda was often found lying on her bed reading about fascinating characters having exciting adventures in places far away and in other time periods. In later years, she read and then started writing romances and achieved her first publication--a confession story. Married with 4 adult children and 2 granddaughters, Linda writes heartwarming contemporary and historical stories with a touch of humor from her home in the southern California mountains.
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