Coming Home

When my husband and I finally returned to central Florida after twenty years of moving about the country, I have to admit, I envisioned the whole town turning out to greet us. 

I quickly squelched such utterly foolish ideas.  I'd settle for a banner strung across the front door, I told myself.

I could practically taste my mom's fried chicken and the made-from-scratch banana pudding she'd serve for dessert.  I imagined Dad taking the tarp off the old Chevy I'd left in the barn.  By the time I got home, he'd have it road-worthy again.

But once again, I'd let my imagination get away from me. 

In the first place, there was no barn.  No Chevy, either.  And since Mom had spent five of the last twenty years moving from place-to-place with my family, if I wanted my favorite meal, I'd have to fix it myself.  Or, more likely, pick it up at the grocery store.

Once reality sunk in, I realized that coming home is rarely what we imagine.  In my mind, everything I'd left behind had stayed the same while I was "out there" exploring the great big world (or moving from one mundane job to another).  But my parents, sister, cousins and friends hadn't exactly been sitting around waiting for me.  They'd moved on with their lives, too.  I didn't fit as neatly back into the scheme of things as I thought I would.  I had some adjusting to do.

In the Rancher's Homecoming series, the next three books I'm writing for Harlequin American, Seth and Doris's five sons come back home to the Circle P, the setting for Rancher's Son. 

 

But, they make many of the same discoveries I made when I finally moved back "home." 

 

 

Things are different on the ranch they left behind.  There's a new cook in the kitchen and, not only does she make a mean fried chicken, she looks mighty fine while she's doing it.  The neighbor's daughter, the one all the boys loved to tease so much, has exchanged her tomboy looks for quiet sophistication.  The nearby town has grown, and the owner of the new music store on the corner has every cowboy within fifty miles strumming a guitar.

 

 

Yes, things have changed.  And I'm having a lot of fun seeing how these rugged ranchers react to the changes that have taken place on the Circle P in the years they've been away.  I hope you will, too, when the Rancher's Homecoming series reaches store shelves next year.  

Time to Celebrate!

Ever have one of those weeks?  The kind where everything goes right?  Don't you love them?  Well, this has certainly been one of those weeks for me.

Rancher's Son hit #1 in sales of all Harlequin American Romances in Amazon's Kindle Store.  For that, I owe a huge, huge thanks to all the readers who made it happen.  Thank you, from the top, bottom and middle of my heart.  

Next, I've accepted an offer to write four more books for Harlequin American.  Squeeee! 

In the first, sparks fly when a former Minor League baseball player offers to help a young student lose the boulder-sized chip on his shoulder.  The catch?  His mom is the widow of baseball's baddest bad  boy.  She wants nothing to do with the sport...or the men who play it.  Even if one look at this one sends her heart soaring over the outfield fence.  

The next three books continue the story of the Circle P Ranch, the setting for Rancher's Son.  We're calling these books the Rancher's Homecoming series.  You'll hear lots more about them in the coming months.  


Last, but not least, I came home healthy after a week with my grandkids.  Now, that might seem hardly worth mentioning, but I get sick so often after seeing these little lights-of-my-life that I actually set aside a week to recover.  Not this time.  Hooray!

Hmmm, the way my luck is running this week, maybe I should buy a Lottery ticket.  Anyone want to suggest some numbers to play?

Come Along On A Florida Cattle Drive

In Rancher's Son, fourth-generation cattleman Ty Parker looks into his childless future and wonders what will become of the ranch he’s worked so hard to preserve.  His answer might be a five-year-old boy abandoned on DCF’s doorstep, but only if the rancher convinces a jaded social worker that he’s good father material on a two-week cattle drive through Florida’s version of the Old West.

Wait a minute.  “Florida’s version of the Old West?”  Did I hear that correctly?  Why yes, yes you did.  While Florida is better known for its orange groves and theme parks, as a setting for a cattle drive, it’s more fitting than a lot of people might guess.

Cattle ranching has been a staple of Florida’s economy for a long, long time.  We should blame Ponce de Leon for that.  He brought seven head of Andalusian cows with him on his second visit in 1521.  And, despite the mosquitoes and the floods and the heat, people have been ranching here ever since. 

Did you know that today Florida is the third-largest beef-producing state east of the Mississippi?  Or that 1.1 million head of cattle graze its pastures?  We use term “Florida Cracker” when we’re talking about someone who was born and raised in the state.  The nickname harkens back to the days when cowboys would snap long, braided whips over the heads of the cattle they were herding.  “Crack!”

 

In 2006, over 500 riders took part in the Great Florida Cattle Drive, taking more than 500 head of cattle on a mid-winter drive through the middle of the state.  That drive became the inspiration for my December release, Rancher’s Son. 

 

Of course, a story about a cattle drive wouldn't be very romantic by itself.  For this romance, I needed a heroine.  And there stood Sarah Magarity, the social worker who'd appeared in two of my earlier books (The Daddy Catch and Rodeo Daughter).  She was just waiting to find the man of her dreams. 

Not that Ty Parker looked like Sarah’s ideal hero.  Especially not when the cowboy flatly denied fathering the five-year-old she’d taken under her wing.  And since Ty bailed on the last two foster children she’d placed in his care, Sarah has no choice but to go along on Ty’s mid-winter round-up while they wait for the results of a paternity test. 

 

Over the next two weeks, Ty and Sarah grow closer while they face stampedes and angry rattlesnakes, but will their new love survive the truth about the boy they both want for their own?

Sarah And Ty Drop In For A Visit

      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.  

      Which they’ll do for, maybe, a day or two.  

      In January or February.   

      In the midst of all this fall-ish Florida weather the Chinese Ting that grows outside my office window has produced a bumper crop of berries.  Flocks of robins and butterbutts that have escaped colder, northern temperatures are drawn to the tree.  The birds cover the ground and roost in the wooded lot behind my house. 

      All these visitors remind me of the way I get the heroes and heroines for my books.  They drop in sometimes when I’m going about my business.  That’s how it was with heroine in Rancher’s Son, available later this month.  You’ve all met social worker Sarah Magarity before.  She played minor roles in The Daddy Catch and Rodeo Daughter.  But, when I sat down to draft the proposal for Rancher’s Son, Sarah practically took up residence in my visitor’s chair.    

      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. 

      The more she “talked” the more I thought Sarah deserved her own Happily Ever After.  But to give it to her, I needed a hero.  And I didn’t have one.

      I was at a loss until the Christmas Eve a five-year-old orphan landed on DCF’s doorstep with nothing but a birth certificate naming Ty Parker as his father.  Right away, I knew my hero had arrived on the scene. 

      Of course, a piece of paper didn’t prove anything in Ty’s book.  Any more than the protests of a self-righteous social worker.  A fourth-generation Florida rancher, this cowboy demanded paternity tests.  And as much as he insisted the child couldn’t be his, on the off-chance he was wrong, Ty refused to let the little boy go into foster care while they waited for the results. 

      Taking a young boy on Ty’s cattle drive made perfectly good sense to someone who’d grown up on a ranch.  But not to a city girl like Sarah.  She insisted on accompanying the boy.  To watch out for his safety, and see for herself if Ty Parker was daddy material.

      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.

 

 

      Don’t forget—we give away copies of recent Harlequin American releases by drawing the names of people who comment out of a proverbial hat each month.  So leave a comment to be included in the drawing. 

 

     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 (leigh@leighduncan.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.    

     

The Other Side of Writing

 

I love to write. Which is to say I live to write. I’ve known I wanted to be an author ever since I penned my first story in the second grade. For a long time, though, writing wasn’t the top priority in my life. Putting food on the table, keeping a roof over our heads, raising my kids—those activities forced my writing into the back seat for a lot longer than I wanted them to.

But now, finally, I’m able to do what I love full time.   

Except...sometimes not.  

This week, a wonderful package arrived at my house. See the Harlequin logo on the side?

Squee! Inside were copies of my December release, Rancher’s Son. Much celebration ensued!

 

Aren’t they beautiful?

Soon after I finished dancing around with books in my hands,though, it was time to get to work again. But this part of my job as an author didn’t involve much writing.

See, nearly everyone of those advance copies had already been promised—to reviewers, to immediate family, to my editor, my agent. There were contests to enter and books to ship. And ship. And ship. And ship. 

So, away went the notes on the story I was writing, and out came piles of bookmarks, envelopes, tape, scissors, pens, markers and note pads (‘cause my mama said you can’t just slip a book in an envelope, you have to send a note!). Soon, my desk looked like a shipping office.

 

I have to admit, this isn’t my favorite part of being an author. Oh, I love the notes part, but the shipping? Not so much.

I’ve gotten pretty good at it though because I know that the sooner I finish, the sooner I can get back to what I really want to do—tell the story of how my next hero and heroine overcome the odds to fall in love.

By the way, I do have a few Rancher's Son bookmarks left over. If you'd like one, drop me a line at

leigh@leighduncan.com. Include your snail mail addy, and I'll slip one in the mail to you.