Down here in sunny Florida, fall is (barely) in the air. No, we haven’t turned off the air conditioner. At our house, it runs practically twenty-four/seven twelve months a year. But the temperatures outside have dropped into the very pleasant mid-seventies, and the humidity isn’t quite as oppressive as it was in the middle of the summer. With palm trees and evergreens dominating the landscape, the occasional flame tree provides a burst of bright red against all that green.
Citrus ripens on the neighbor’s orange and grapefruit trees. The fruit promises a taste of sunshine when the temperatures drop lower.
In January or February.
Over tea she told me about the cattle drive she’d sent two older foster kids on, and how a certain hunky cowboy had let her down when he abruptly returned the boys to DCF’s custody. She showed me how passionate she was about improving the foster care system. Unfortunately, her tendency to go out on a limb for the children in her care had not only broken her heart, but jeopardized her job. So, she’d sworn to remain aloof, to keep her distance the way her boss insisted. All her pent-up love went into raising orchids and plumeria instead.
Clearly, Ty and Sarah both needed each other as much as they needed the little boy who’d been dumped in their laps. That’s where my job—and a cattle drive through Florida’s version of the Old West—came in. The result was Rancher’s Son, a book I hope you’ll enjoy when it’s released, just in time for the holidays, on November 27th.
Oh, and another surprise—the printer sent a double order of bookmarks for Rancher’s Son! Would you like one? Or a dozen? (LOL) If so, send me an email (email@example.com). Include your snail mail addy in the email—not here on this loop—and I’ll drop a signed bookmark in the mail to you.