28 February 2016

A Sunday Snip & Stuff--The Stockman

Ginger has asked us to try something different on our Sunday Blog posts, so for a change of pace, here’s a little rhyme from me. Bear in mind that I have never considered myself a poet, so don’t chastise me if I get the rhythm or pace etc. wrong at times. I just like words and telling stories. This one happens to be about a profession well-known in my homeland, Australia. Perhaps the days of the man riding out on his horse with just his dogs for company might have been replaced by men on motor bikes or in their sturdy four-wheel drives. But I like to think that in the remotest parts of this land there are still, and always will be, men like my Stockman.


The Stockman.


The bush and plains are the stockman’s home.
The pine clad mountains and valleys to roam
His hat rests low on his proud set head
and covers his hair of the brightest red.

His dog lopes close by his horses’ side,
and the pair never tire through a long day’s ride.
Old Irish has dreamed since he was a lad
of riding all day across this wide land.

His mother and father had both been rovers.
His dad was a man well known by the drovers
They’d died up along the Murrays’ side
and were buried near that great river so wide.

Irish knows well how to laugh and to cry;
to share life’s sorrows ‘neath God’s clear blue sky
He knows all there is about herding cows,
about riding all day when the wind just howls.

Once on a trek though the great desert land,
he almost got lost as for gold he panned
Old Irish has been where black parrots fly,
where the mulga and scrub reach well past the thigh.

Past rivers so dry that the cracks split the earth
and no one can say what the red land is worth
He’s been where the ‘roos jump high in the air,
where wallabies roam over land green and fair.

He thought once of settling, of taking a wife,
but decided with forethought that wasn’t the life
No drover would fit in a life in the city;
to leave all this space would be more than a pity.

In a place like Sydney or Melbourne or Darwin
where the people all flock and there’s plenty of sin
No woman in town would put up with his roving,
this need to be moving, and constantly going

To the back blocks and endless wide open plains,
far away from the city and shops and the trains
There’s no female around who’d put up with the hide
of a man who yearns just to be free to ride.

The man who knows joy in a good horse beneath you,
a dog for a pal and restrictions so few
The hard times and good times; the dust and the heat,
where no man gives in to a thing like defeat.

The bush folk have ways the townsfolk don’t know.
They’ll greet you with pleasure, and then let you go
To wander the wide open plains that you love,
where at night all the stars fairly blaze up above.

On a night when the air is crystal clear,
you’ll sit ‘neath a sky where the stars seem so near
You can reach out and touch them in the frosty sky
and be closer to God than you’ll be when you die.

A stockman knows all about drought dust and heat,
but in his way of life won’t put up with defeat.
His life’s filled with pleasures no town man would know.
Old Irish is off where the wanderers go.

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21 February 2016

Sunday Snippet from When Fate Decides--Challenge the Heart Book 1

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   For too long Tessa has seen herself as plain and dowdy, just an ordinary suburban housewife. With her confidence eroded after being married to a bully who humiliated her at every opportunity, why wouldn’t she presume she was unattractive, and someone no man would find the least bit worth bothering with?
    But now Tessa is a widow, and relishing her new state of independence. Her world is turned upside down by Jack Delaney, a man she spent hours fantasizing over when he worked for her husband. A man who gave her a deliciously secret outlet from her miserable marriage. When Jack enters her life again, professing he finds her attractive, why would she believe him? Especially as he is now wealthy, successful, still extremely handsome, and to add to that, years younger than her.

To all the women out there who dream of having a man like Jack in their lives—and to those who are blessed by having one.

“As a romance hero, Jack is one of the best! …expect to spend a few sleepless nights reading this page–turner and enjoying the scorching love scenes between Tessa and Jack! Once started, this book is impossible to put down. Ms. McGill has conjured up a cast of characters that will stay in your mind and a story that will warm your heart.” Jennifer Macaire for A Romance Review

She was blushing again. Christ! If it happened too often he would fall apart. Could she be such a delightful shade of pink all over? With a sharp silent reprimand, he told himself to keep it cool. If he wasn’t careful he could frighten the life out her.

“I’d rather not have another. But you go ahead and help yourself.” She nodded as she picked up the tray.

Jack followed Tessa to the kitchen and, while she started to get a saucepan from the cupboard he refilled his cup, then leaned back against the counter to watch her.

“Am I in the way? Just tell me to go jump if I am.” Could he be making her nervous? Was that a tremor in her fingers, or simply his own awareness playing tricks on him? She shook her head and, with an endearing little smile, carried on.

His gut clenched. “So, your daughter’s sixteen. Is she a problem teenager?” Perhaps as stupid question but he desperately wanted to set her at ease. He loved the sound of her voice, and could listen to it all day. It was soft as a summer breeze, with a slight huskiness to it. Made a man think of forbidden things, like sultry nights of passion and sweat-sleeked bodies.

Her warm smile told him she adored her daughter. “Laurel a problem? Heavens, no—I couldn’t wish for a better daughter.”

Jack pulled his thoughts back to the mundane question he’d asked. “You must be one of the lucky ones. I have friends with teenagers who reckon they are a pain in the neck.”

“I am lucky.” She frowned as she said that. “Des was like your friends—inclined to look on girls as not worth the bother it takes to raise them.” As if she regretted being so outspoken, she bit her lip before she turned her back on him.

Jack couldn’t imagine dear old Des being the kind of father a girl would enjoy having. He was far too dogmatic and unbending. Too mean and nasty to have the sensibilities needed to rear a daughter.

“Laurel wants to be a nurse.” Her smile had returned when she turned back to face him. “She’ll be a good one too. Her dolls have been her patients since she was a toddler. Every one of them sported a bandage on one limb or other since she was old enough to wrap it.” Pride shone from her eyes. “I think she’ll probably want to go overseas to help the refugees or displaced people. She has a very compassionate nature.”

“Is she as beautiful as her mother?” Damn! Now she’d gone all wary again, but her blush told him his revelation pleased her.

Laughing nervously she eyed him across the small space separating them. “Don’t be daft.”

“Daft to think anyone could be as lovely as you, you mean?” With a grin, he watched the peachy stain travel from her throat and up her face. God, she was endearing.

She gave a soft snort as she held a spoon aloft. “You should see about getting glasses.”

“My eyesight is perfect.” Fascinated, he watched her movements. Yes, she was flustered for sure. “Surely Des told you how lovely you are. And there must have been many men over the years that commented on it. Unless they are the ones who needed glasses.”

She emptied a packet of spaghetti into boiling water as she protested, “I’m a past her prime mum and my hair’s going gray.”

Jack made a rude sound. “Rubbish! Past your prime? You have the face and figure of a twenty-year-old, Tessa. Your skin’s like silk, and I happen to like the touch of silver in your hair.” Would dearly like to see if her skin felt as soft as it promised to be. Itched to run his fingers through that sleek hair.

“How did we get onto this subject?” He couldn’t quite make out if she was embarrassed by his bluntness or pleased at his compliments.


This is an unforgettable love story that I didn’t want to end and when it did, I wanted to start reading it again. Tessa is a wonderful heroine who has to regain her self-esteem and learn to love again.” Hattie Boyd Word Museum

Book 2 in this series A Heart in Conflict is coming soon from Books We Love

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http://mizging.blogspot.com (Ginger Simpson)

http://yesterrdayrevisitedhere.blogspot.com/  Juliet Waldron 





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14 February 2016

A Valentine’s Day Sunday Snippet from Leah in Love (and Trouble) Beneath Southern Skies Book 3

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Leah is a landscape designer who inherited her love of gardening from her eccentric aunt. Contracted to work on the garden of Private Investigator Sean Russel, she unwittingly becomes embroiled in the handsome PI’s cases. 
She becomes a party to such mayhem she is forced to wonder how she ever got mixed up in this mess. But her indomitable spirit, and incurable sense of humor enable her to override all obstacles. And there is her overwhelming attraction for Sean Russel that started it all.

As Shrinking Violet this book was a finalist in RWAustralia’s Romantic Book of The Year 2006.



Someone was shaking me—very gently. I muttered a swear word. I didn’t particularly want to come out of the delicious dream I’d been having. Ah, I was still in that dream because the main feature character was saying my name, in a most caring and kindly fashion.

“Yes, Sean, do that again.” That was the kissing he’d just been doing—on places I hadn’t been kissed before. “Mm, that’s nice.”

“Wake up, Leah, please.” The shaking grew more impatient. I wobbled my head and complained when it spun like a top.

“No, go ‘way,” I grumbled. It sounded like Sean, my dream lover, but if I opened my eyes I’m sure I would end up disappointed.

“Leah.” He lifted my head gently, and then stroked my cheek. “Drink this.”

I peeped up. I could only make slits beneath my lids. It sure looked like the man who had been giving me delicious kisses, but I was probably hallucinating. He pressed something to my mouth and poured water between my lips.

“That’s nice, I was thirsty.” I don’t think he heard me, for the words came out on a thread of sound.

“I’ll have to carry you a short way. We have an ambulance waiting on the road.”

Yes, it definitely wasn’t Ron, because if it were he would have slung me over his shoulder like a bag of fertilizer, instead of lifting me as if I was a precious burden.

I decided I liked being toted by this lovely man. I told him so, but don’t think he heard that either, because he didn’t answer. Perhaps he was out of breath through carrying me around. I giggled. He heard that, for he pressed a short kiss on my forehead. I told him I liked that, too.

I was lowered onto a bed of sorts. I didn’t want to be anywhere but in his arms and complained as I felt the bed move. Oh no, I was being taken away from him. I yelled out for them to stop, but it came out similar to a frog with laryngitis.

“Hush.” My hero was beside me again, now holding my hand and whispering unintelligible words in my ear. A door slammed and then another, then the vehicle they’d deposited me in began to move. Ah yes, an ambulance. I rather liked the gentle movement and the stroke of Sean’s fingers on my hand. I would just go back to my lovely dream. I smiled.

“Tricia McGill has developed a winner of a character with Leah. With well-rounded characters, a well-crafted plot and superb, witty dialogue, she pens a book that screams read me. She gives Leah character, a strong personality and the wisdom to not be anyone’s punching bag. I love how she stands up to Sean, and when face-to-face, they really give credibility to this action-packed, engaging read that left this reader breathless. I clapped, I cheered, and I fell in love with the characters, and this remarkable book."  5 angels from Linda L at fallen angel reviews

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7 February 2016

A Sunday Snippet from Leah in Love (and Trouble) Beneath Southern Skies Book 3

Leah in Love (and Trouble) is currently on sale at .99c. Buy here at AMAZON or SMASHWORDS

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Violet Amelia Connor, known to all as Leah, is a landscape designer who inherited her love of gardening from the eccentric aunt she lives with. Leah is contracted to work on the garden of Private Investigator Sean Russel and unwittingly becomes embroiled in the handsome PI’s cases. 
A series of unpleasant experiences land her in real trouble where she is kidnapped, bashed, bound and altogether becomes a party to such mayhem she is forced to wonder how she ever got mixed up in this mess. But her indomitable spirit, obstinate nature, and incurable sense of humor enable her to override all obstacles. And of course there is her overwhelming attraction for Sean Russel that started it all.


Previously published as Shrinking Violet this book was a finalist in the Romance Writers of Australia’s Romantic Book of The Year in 2006.



“What?”

“What, what?”

“This could go on all night. I couldn’t make out the look in your eye. And as I’m a naturally nosy person I wondered just what you were thinking.”

“I can’t get over the transformation. Earlier you looked like a sixteen-year-old tomboy, and now you look like a very sexy lady.”

I took a quick gulp of my wine to cool the heat racing through me, which would end up at my cheeks and confirm I was a teenager in a woman’s body. I knew I was, but didn’t want him finding that out. I liked the sexy lady bit too much.

“How does a man define sexy?” Trust me to poke my nose into his head.

He closed one eye and gave that some thought. “Define sexy? Hell, I don’t know, I just know you look it in that dress. Do you set out to surprise men on purpose or have you no idea how sexy you look?”

“I like to dress up.” It was my turn to shrug. “I spend all my working days in old clothes so like to be imaginative in my leisure hours.”

“Imaginative, huh?”

Good grief, trust a man to twist my words. The glint in his eye suggested he thought me imaginative in other areas, too. Areas that went along with the sexy look. Well, he would be surprised to learn that Patrick considered me boring in bed. Perhaps I was, but I was more inclined to think I’d responded in kind to him. After the first flush of passion—which lasted all of a month—sex with Patrick was nothing more than what could be termed unimaginative.

Our meals arrived, saving me from having to continue in that direction. “Mm, this is delicious.” The chicken melted in the mouth. “Have you eaten here before?”

“No, I haven’t. I’m glad you suggested it. My steak is done to perfection.”

We ate in silence for a while. It was a companionable silence though. Strange, but I felt as if I’d known him a long time.

The waiter took our empty plates away. He’d eaten every scrap. I liked that in a man. I loved my food and couldn’t stand picky eaters. With Lizzie doing the cooking, I couldn’t afford to be a finicky eater.

He poured us both another glass of wine. The dessert trolley was brought to us. Oh my. It was filled with goodies. All the deserts had similar names. DD was all chocolate, dark and light, and topped with chocolate cream. Disgusting.  “I’ll have the Delinquent Desire please, Mr. Russel.”

He chose something more boring, cheesecake. “It’s Sean.”

I took a mouthful of mine and closed my eyes in bliss. “Now that’s what I call imaginative, Sean,” I said on a sigh.

“You like chocolate, huh?”

“You could say I’m a chocaholic. That accounts for my thick waistline.”

“Nothing wrong with your figure.” He winked saucily.

I liked this man. “Thanks for that. You sure know how to make a girl feel good. Sexy and nicely shaped—not bad for a first date.” Oh Lor’ I was blushing now. This wasn’t really a date, was it? More a thank you for rescuing him. “I mean, I wasn’t meaning to imply…” Shut up Leah, before you swallow your whole foot.

“What? That we are on a date, our very first one?” He laughed. “You’re a funny one, Leah.”

“Now you’ve gone and spoilt yourself. I was just going along nicely with sexy and curvy and you call me funny. No, no.” I waggled my spoon at him. “Definitely the wrong move.”
His throaty chuckle sent a thrill to my toes. “I’ll have to see about making the right moves then, won’t I?”

He was a born flirt. “You and my aunt are tarred with the same brush.” I licked my spoon and his eyes went all hot. Wow, looks as if he rather fancied me as much as I was beginning to fancy him. “So, Sean, what case are you working on?”

He ordered us liqueurs after I told him which I wanted and he settled back. “A good PI never discusses his cases.”

"She's a pushy, nosy gardener; he's a drop dead gorgeous PI.  His rich sister hires her to tend his garden, but she is not prepared for what she is about to unearth...
This is a delightfully funny, romantic story. The constant escapades that poor Leah and Sean end up in, will entertain you and the evocative love that flows between them will delight you.  I strongly recommend this engaging novel to all romance lovers.” 
Nadine St Dennis Romance Junkies
Please take a moment to visit these blogs for more Sunday Snippets.

http://mizging.blogspot.com (Ginger Simpson)

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