Because this will be my first e-book publication, I'm really excited about getting a copy of my cover. It depicts beautifully the area in which the story takes place.
Fort Robinson, Nebraska once known as Camp Robinson, is a huge military outpost. There a few bedraggled remnants of the great Northern Cheyenne, known as the Beautiful People, are being held hostage. They have been pursued for 1500 miles as they escaped from the Indian Nation and headed for their home in Montana.
Stone Heart is the son of George Armstrong Custer and White Dove, a Northern Cheyenne. His hatred of his father drives him to rebuke his white heritage and swear never to speak the white-man's language again. Until he meets Aiden Connor, a red-haired Irish lass abandoned in the remote town of Benson by the man she loved.
Their meeting in a shack on the high plains is less than charmed. Stone Heart is recovering from wounds received during the final breakout at Fort Robinson when Aiden stumbles onto the sod house:
A shuffling of feet, movement of some kind, startled him fully awake. He had no idea how
long he had slept, but someone was coming. Tilting his head, he listened. Not an animal, nor a
big man. Someone small, weary. Even with his wounds, he would have no trouble overpowering
this one and slitting its throat. The musket lay in the dark corner, for he had not yet loaded it. He
hoped this was a white man approaching, for he desperately desired to count coup, repay the
slaughter of the day before. Ignoring the lancing of pain, he crept toward the door, waited out of
sight until his prey entered. The only light filtered into the gloom through that opening, and he
could be upon the enemy without ever being seen.
The fur-shrouded figure that stepped into sight radiated fire about its head, rays of sun
brilliant in long strands of tangled red hair. Already in motion, his arm clamped about its throat,
cut off a high scream.
A woman. A white woman.
The robe slipped from her shoulders when she clawed the air and kicked furiously with
both feet, her full weight swinging on his forearm. One pointed boot toe struck his shin, another
cracked his knee painfully. Gritting his teeth against passing out, he leaned against the wall and
hung on, pressed the blade of his knife hard against her mid-section.
Hissed in her ear, “Stop fighting or I’ll gut you.”
The galleys came last week and I've finished editing them. What a great book this is! Talk about Blatant Self Promotion. Well, I've always believed if we didn't like our own work no one else would either.
I don't have a release date yet, but it will be sometime within six months, I'm told. I'll celebrate with something special for my readers. Time will tell what that will be. I once gave away and silver and turquoise ring from New Mexico to a lucky reader. I'll come up with something.
stuff from her 
