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The Dolan Girls Review

2/27/2016

1 Comment

 
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BLURB:
HERE'S WHAT THEY'RE SAYING ABOUT THE DOLAN GIRLS:
 “At times rollicking, at times poignant, always authentic; a well-researched and beautifully told story.”

 “A compelling read, perfect amount of romance, with a wonderful ending. You’ll be immersed in cast, time, and place.”

 “S.R. Mallery’s words thunder off the page like a cattle stampede with sharply written characters demonstrate that it was WOMEN who tamed the American West.”

 “It's a rip-roaring, nail-biting, heart-throbbing ride...my Stetson is off to S.R. Mallery!”

“What a marvellous story! Historically well researched, entertaining, & very warmly written. Highly recommended.”

 “Mallery has done it again. THE DOLAN GIRLS leads you on a trip that is sometimes painful, sometimes loving. From innocence to womanhood. From love to heartbreak. Definitely 5*!”

“The Dolan Girls is simply a wonderful book. It brings the West alive in a way that is not only historically interesting, but one can’t help but become fascinated with how the story is going to play out.”

EXCERPT:

 
CHAPTER ONE
1861: Young Kisses
 
Cora Dolan refused to talk about what had happened six years earlier, ten miles above town. Sealed up as tight as a snail in the cold she was, even to her sister Minnie, who was there with her the whole time; even with Thomas, who held her heart.

Yet one star-flushed night, as the wind’s edges were chilling and the shortening days were trumpeting the around-the-corner autumn, the two sweethearts pressed against a neighbor’s barn door, and Cora opened her mouth to share her past, then paused.

“What is it, Cora?” Thomas whispered, his steady arm around her sixteen-year-old waist, his mouth brushed against her ear. “Tell me what gets you sad sometimes. Let me help you.”

She forced a smile. “I’m all right, truly I am,” she said, placing her right hand gently over her heart for a couple of seconds. With her arms then draped over his broad shoulders, she uplifted her face for a kiss.

“Oh, Cora,” he said softly, his lips heading toward hers, “I love it when you put your hand over your heart. It’s so sweet. So trusting.”

Suddenly, a horse’s sudden clop-clop broke their embrace, sending them scurrying off to Cora’s residence. Several blocks away, still running, laughing, holding hands, they slowed their pace down to a stroll as they passed the livery stable, the local blacksmith, the church shut tight for the night, the brand new post office, and the local saloon with its strong bouquet of whiskey and beer wafting into the air. Finally they stopped in front of the red-curtained Madam Ana’s, South Benton’s second watering hole, the place for pleasuring most any man.And home to the Dolan girls.

“I guess it’s good-night, then,” her young suitor murmured, angling for another kiss.

A male snicker rang out. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Out from behind the southeast porch post stepped a slightly older young man, his black hat cocked forty-five degrees, his leather jacket opened, his six-shooter holstered just below his waist. He moved in close.

“Cora, sweet thing, why in the world do you waste your time with such a greenhorn, huh?” he sneered. “Be like the gals you live with and try a real man for once!”

Thomas stepped in front of Cora. “Wes, that’s no way to treat a lady. Let her be!”

The stepbrothers faced each other. “Don’t you threaten me!” Wes spat back, splaying his tall, wiry legs and fingering his new grown mustache, as if to further prove his manhood.

“That’s rich––me threatening you. Now, leave us alone!”

As Wes half walked, half hitched away, chortling, Cora clutched her protector. “He’s always so scary,” she whispered…
 
“… I think you’re beautiful, Cora. In fact, you’re perfect.”

Concentrating on his piercing blue eyes, she leaned in for a kiss. All of a sudden, they heard Madam Ana inside, laughing with one of her customers while an out-of-tune piano clunked loudly in the parlor. Although the kiss ended up much shorter than he would have liked, he said nothing when Cora turned and swung the front door open to head toward the back of the house where she shared a bedroom with her sister Minnie.

Just inside, Cora walked into the parlor, with its red velvet wallpaper and red carpeting, stretching out onto the large, winding staircase that led upstairs. She continued on, past the central eye-catchers of the room:  a large maroon settee, piled high with plump, satin pillows, and a glittering chandelier hovering overhead that word had it, cost a small fortune. Nothing was too good for the ambitious Madam Ana Prozinski from Russia, she was always being told.

“Cora!” called out Becky, a voluptuous blonde squeezed into a purple, gusset-enhanced corset, high-heeled boots, and her famous black velvet choker. “While we’ve been workin’ here a month of Sundays, you get to make a night of it! For two cents, I’d love to know what you’ve been doin’!”

“Yup, I reckon she just got a lick and a promise!” added a red-petticoated Julie to a chorus of shrieks and laughter.

Amy, in a rose colored shimmy and fishnet stockings, chimed in. “Look at her red face! Did you ever see anything so perty? It’s just like…”

“She’s always pretty!” Julie interrupted. “Talks fine, too. Must be all those speakin’ lessons from Pete she’s always taking.”
“Yeah,” Becky said, chuckling. “She talks like one of them refined ladies, but she’s also so pretty she could be one of us. I’ll bet she could bring in those cowboys by the wagonloads! She’s…”

​Madam Ana strode into the room “Girls, enough!” You know I take no stock in dis kinda talk. Leave Cora be. Now go back to verk!” She looked around at her employees and clapped twice. “Now!” she barked.
 
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Do you like westerns? Romances? Then The Dolan Girls is your book. It features the tale of two Dolan girls abandoned in the Nebraska land rush and left to the loving graces of the local madam. The story opens with a tale of young love, a twisted cowboy, and an alcoholic thespian who quotes Shakespeare.

Ms. Mallery doesn’t shy away from exposing the underside of everyday life and the personal grit each person had to possess to survive the hostile land. Still, in the rough and tumble atmosphere, there were moments of joy, discovery, and a little celebrity worship with the appearance of Annie Oakley and the Buffalo Bill show.

The Dolan Girls should satisfy historical romance and western fans alike. 
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S. R. Mallery BIO:
 S.R. Mallery has been labeled nothing short of 'eclectic'. She has been a singer, a composer, a calligrapher, a production artist, a quilt designer, and an ESL/Reading teacher.

As a writer, History is her focus and is woven into her stories with a delicate thread. When people talk about the news of the day, or listen to music, Sarah's imagination likens the story to a similar kind of news in the past and is conjuring up scenes between characters she has yet to meet.
 
 




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MY SOCIAL LINKS:
 
Blog:  https://srmallery.wordpress.com/home/
 
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/SarahMallery1
 
Facebook:
Personal page:  https://www.facebook.com/sarah.mallery.3
Fan: http://facebook.com/pages/SR-Mallery-Sarah-Mallery/356495387768574
 
Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/107388739382996104658/posts
 
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/sarah-s-r-mallery-93396a3a?trk=hp-identity-name
 
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7067421.S_R_Mallery
 
Pinterest:  (I have some good history boards that are getting a lot of attention—history, vintage clothing, older films)
http://www.pinterest.com/sarahmallery1/
 
Amazon Author page:  
http://www.amazon.com/S.-R.-Mallery/e/B00CIUW3W8/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
 
LINKS FOR MY OTHER BOOKS:
 
Amazon link to TALES TO COUNT ON:  http://amzn.to/1x8QqyD
Amazon link to SEWING CAN BE DANGEROUS: http://amzn.to/1P8OTyo
Audible.com link for SEWING CAN BE DANGEROUS: http://bit.ly/1uyFUuF
Amazon link to UNEXPECTED GIFTS: http://amzn.to/1cE5tXp 


1 Comment

Tuesday Tales: Mixed

2/21/2016

5 Comments

 
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Today's Prompt is Mixed.
Chapter Two

Sister Thomas stepped into Meara’s path from the side hallway. In her rush to get back to her cell, she hadn’t anticipated anyone in the usually empty passage.  Even though Meara checked her speed, she made solid contact with the rotund nun.

The nun kept her feet, although she grunted something under her breath. Meara didn’t fare as well and tumbled backwards.  Even though she hadn’t heard Sister Thomas clearly, she was sure she used one of the same words her Uncle Simon had earlier.

The idea interested her. “My pardon, Sister Thomas.” She pushed to her feet, and brushed the dust from her tunic.
“All is forgiven, little sister.”  A look of amusement flickered across Sister Thomas’s face, before she schooled it back into a somber expression.  

The sisters came from outside the walls. Only Meara was born in the convent. Sister Thomas was a recent addition. Sister Gabriella referred to her as a rich, devout widow, which explained her girth. The fodder at the nunnery was simple and spare, which resulted in an involuntary weight loss among most of the postulants.

A sneaky thought popped into her mind, a forbidden one.  Any talk about the secular world or past was against the rules. Since her entire past happened inside the convent walls, she had no secrets, except for her forays into the woods.

Those weren’t as clandestine as she previously thought. An image of Sister Gabriella standing by the berry bush calling into the bolt hole proved at least one person knew. Even knowing about her activities, the kind sister never prevented her from visiting her natural sanctuary. Still, if she were going into the unknown in a few short weeks shouldn’t she have knowledge of it?

“Sister Thomas,” she glanced down the hall both ways as she spoke. No one, it was relatively safe unless Sister Thomas felt the need to report.  A few of the older sisters had borne witness against Sister Thomas for the great sin of whistling, which meant she’d might not be so quick to tattle, unless she wanted to prove how she conformed to standards. Her lips tightened as Meara considered the consequences of asking about the world outside. At best, her punishment 
would last only two weeks.

“What is it little sister?” The woman angled her head and waited.

The term little sister annoyed her since she hadn’t taken the veil. Still, Sister Thomas was learning her way around and probably didn’t know her name. Having a name was a step up from one of the other convents that Sister Gabriella confided didn’t allow names since it was a form of vanity.

Another furtive glance revealed no one walked the hall. She took a step closer to the nun. “A relative has come for me, to take me away. Before I leave, it would benefit me to know what waits outside the walls.”

The woman’s habit rose at her chest as she took a deep breath, then exhaled. “Well, my girl, life outside the walls would be different for you than me. Could be a mixed blessing.”

Meara’s nose wrinkled as she attempted to make sense of her words. “Why would it be any different? It’s the same world no matter who steps into it.”
5 Comments

Sneak Peek Sunday

2/20/2016

0 Comments

 

Book Two in the Romantic Suspense series is on it's way. The first book Love or Deception is .99 2/23-2/25 on Amazon,iTunes, BN, and Smashwords.

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Mina smiled at her husband over the soft-top car roof as she opened the passenger door. Raising her voice a little, she said, “A ride along the coast sounds great.” It did, especially since it had been a while since she and Lucian had done anything together. Her images of married life were worlds away from the reality.

Instead of preparing meals together and snuggling on the couch watching television, Lucian worked. She worked too, as a school office manager. It allowed her plenty of time to get home to fix Lucian an excellent supper he seldom ate because he usually ate at work or even dined with clients. His actions hurt her, but she pretended they didn’t. After all, Lucian never had a wife before. How would he know what he was supposed to do? Maybe it was her. Could she be doing something wrong?

They were going for a ride today, which showed that being a compliant wife paid off. Following her church teachings of being a submissive wife was not only the right thing to do but was its own reward.

Lucian backed the car out of the garage slowly, driving a few miles before pulling over long enough to lower the convertible top. She glanced at his hands because she’s always admired his long fingers and maicured nails he kept meticulously clean. Her deceased father had run an airline, but he often worked on the planes himself, which left him with stained, rough skin.

Today Lucian’s immaculate hands were glove encased. “Honey, why are you wearing those gloves, especially on a warm day like this?”

He fixed his warm chocolate eyes on her and smiled. “Can’t risk a blister. I’ve got a big case this week. A lawyer with a blister on his hand draws attention at the wrong time. I can’t have some nearsighted juror trying to decide if it’s a wart, a blemish, or a blister while ignoring my opening argument.”

“You’re right,” she readily agreed.

Lucian was an excellent criminal defense lawyer. How could a jury convict when he turned those eyes on them and launched an argument that demolished his opponent’s case. She’d met him through her old boyfriend, who was also a lawyer. There was a time she thought she could be a lawyer, too. The thought made her grimace. That was back when she was an independent woman, thinking she could do anything. Thank goodness, she found Lucian and the church to help her put things in their proper place. Although, sometimes, she wondered what would have happened if she’d finished her degree and passed the bar.

The morning sun rose in the sky like a play backdrop. The blue skies above her, the sheer walls of rock on one side, and the ocean tossing far below made for excellent scenery, a setting for a perfect day. Lucian mentioned they might stop for lunch at a little bistro up the road featured on The Food Channel. The life she wanted was coming together, the one she dreamed of while she persevered to be the ideal wife. She never raised her voice and never argued with her man. He stopped the car at a lookout point, a sharp jog of a cliff that jutted out over the roaring water attached only on its side to the mountain wall. Lucian left the car to stand at the safety railing, gazing out to sea. A mini mall sat across the road with the majority of its storefronts empty

 “Sweetheart, you got to see this. Only on the West Coast can you feast your eyes on this type of savage beauty.”

A feeling of trepidation suddenly grabbed her, stalling her exit from the convertible. Why should she be afraid of Lucian, especially when he was so sweet to her? His masculine silhouette highlighted by the morning sun emphasized his wide shoulders and powerful physique, not exactly typical for an attorney. Her husband trained for the triathlons that were so popular in their area with the same passion he displayed in court. She noticed his gloved hand clutching the railing. Was he afraid of being up so high? If so, he’d never mention it.

Forcing her feet forward, she preferred not to be so close to the edge. Did Lucian know she had a fear of heights? Ironic when her family’s money came from flying. Did she ever mention it? Maybe, it was hard to remember. Theirs was a short courtship brought about by the betrayal of her former boyfriend, James. Jumping in bed with Lucian, when he told her about James’ cheating ways, hadn’t been her intention, but still it happened. Hard to believe she was ever that girl. Once she joined his church and started participating in the Ladies’ Bible study, he found her acceptable as wife material. His exact words involved something about acknowledging his spiritual headship. She didn’t question the meaning, only nodded, overwhelmed to have the love of the handsome up and coming lawyer.

Finally, at the railing beside her husband, she wrapped her fingers around the cold metal for assurance and support. The sun glistened on the waves, making them iridescent, changing color with each ripple. It was beautiful. She smiled up at her husband, wanting to share the moment, only to see herself reflected back in his sunglasses. Was he as happy as she was? His unsmiling lips didn’t indicate any joy. Still, how could he not be when everything was so perfect?

“Honey, are you happy right now?”

He wrapped one arm around her and squeezed her shoulders, turning her into his embrace, forcing her to let go of the rail. “I’m going to be much happier in a few seconds.” He grinned, allowing his face to come closer to hers.

Their differing heights sometimes made a simple kiss a challenge. Pressing up on her toes, she did her best to meet him halfway. Her eyelids fluttered shut, as his face loomed large in front of hers, making a kiss so much more romantic.

No lips landed on hers. Instead, Lucian scooped her up in his arms, cradling her high against his chest. Her eyes opened at his unexpected action. While romantic, it made no sense. There was no grassy picnic area to carry her to, just rugged, rocky outcroppings with gravel dusting the ground. “What are you doing?”

She hadn’t meant to ask, but the words popped out. One of the primary rules for being a good wife was to never question your husband. She couldn’t see his eyes, but his biceps bunched as he lifted her higher. “Getting rid of a boring mouse of a wife.”

Her mind took a painstakingly long time to work through the words. They were so wrong. What could it possibly mean? What this some type of role-play game? He had wanted her to dress up like a schoolgirl while he pretended to be the teacher, but she’d hesitated, wondering if it was a church-approved activity. Her realization that he meant what he said came too late as she plunged downward to the angry waves.

Her hands reached for the twisted shrubs growing out of the rocky cliff. The first one grazed her hand with its sharp needles. The second one jutted out more. Closer, she could get this one. For a brief heartbeat, there was a break in her fall as something caught on the tree, then broke. The sun glinted on something metallic as her body wind-milled through the air rather like a rag doll.
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YOU PICK THE COVER

2/14/2016

2 Comments

 

Here's the first book, which is already out.

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The second book should be out in May. Here's the two covers, I have so far. I want your opinion. You can vote for the shoes, trees, or neither.

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More about the book.

It's book two in The Painted Lady Inn Mysteries series.

Donna's brother, Daniel, has talked her into running a class reunion special for her own high school reunion. Little did she know everyone she hadn't wanted to see will book her inn. 
 
From her unwanted admirer who rhymed hot mama with Donna causing it to be her default name the rest of high school. Unfortunately, everyone snickered when they said it.

Then there was her assigned locker partner, Terri, who not only stole her homework, but thought it'd be funny to tell everyone she had a STD.

Ah, high school, what a nightmare. If that wasn't enough, Wyn, the one male she'd crushed on hard in her junior year has booked a room too. well, make that him and his wife.

1. Woods

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RETURNING CHARACTERS

Donna-the owner of The Painted Lady Inn

Jasper- her puggle dog

Daniel- Donna's brother

Maria- Daniel's Wife

Herman- the chatty older neighbor

​Mark- the grizzled veteran detective


2. Shoes

You can also say neither.

2 Comments

Doors of Dawn

2/4/2016

0 Comments

 
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The Doors of Dawn1/20/2016
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  • The Doors of Dawn by Joseph Machney is book two in The Legend of Zyrah Series. It is a fantasy tale that contains deeper meaning and resonances depending on the reader. Every person brings different experiences and in turn gains distinctive insights from reading. 

    The story opens with the youngsters in the village planning a special place. There is some underlying excitement about the participants and the families, but the play is much more than it seems to be on the surface. Brendan, the main character and actor, finds wisdom form a chance met stranger who explains to him about the harnessing the power of the chakras and the universality of the natural world. His guide also has the ability to shape shift. His guide isn’t the only one who can shape shift. 

    The adults in the story aren’t open to the mysticism that the children willingly accept, similar to the concept that the uncomplicated nature of children can see and hear things that adults ignore. To say much more does get into spoilers. Suffice to say there is a danger threatening the village, part of it is due to ignoring their surroundings and spiritual states, for the practical everyday elements. 

    Author Joseph Machney’s tale has the feel of a fable. It is easy for anyone to read, but like a fable, it lingers in the mind, bringing more awareness with time. There is also an organic flow and tranquility to the prose. People of all ages could benefit from reading The Doors of the Dawn. It would serve as an excellent vehicle for a book discussion group too. 

    With the annual summer festival play nearing, the children of the little village of Houtenwoud on the Pacific Island of Zyrah have been preparing day and night for their performance. But the play they are about to perform is being directed not only by Angus, but by a trinity of owls that are guided by the full moon and who have their own outer-worldly reasons for the performance. 

    As the play is shown and abruptly ended, the days after the play and the influence of the owls begins to have far reaching consequences which call upon the aid of a wizard from the wizard's palace. The young and old ones must now come together to understand the importance of their sacred union relationships in order to see through the outside forces and how they are able to influence an unsuspecting island through posing as false gods. 

    With the help of visions, dreams, spirit guides, cosmic consciousness, a krystal river, imps with soup, and some baking, Sara, Brendan, Treva and their friends must find a way to remove the invading Wycata with their books of prophecy before they make slaves of not only the entire village, but the island and the world as well.....

    EXCERPT
    Rain poured down on the dark clothed man as he adjusted his hat a bit. A thick leather jacket now clothed him as the rain bounced off it and onto the ground, as well as Brendan who was lying there. He stepped closer to the young man in front of him. "I am what you could call your spirit guide, your higher self, or something similar." He put his arm around the confused person. "Young Brendan, you have awoken to a new life. The person that you were before is now lying on the ground, dead. You are no longer who you use to be. You walked through the door when you went with Sara into the forest, and now you must live your life as this new person." He walked Brendan away from the person who he use to be and down the lamp lit street as the rain came down harder. Brendan shivered in the cold rain.
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  • Biography
    Life is a spiritual journey, a dream, and I want to write about it through putting a fantasy and metaphysical twist on what I have to say. So through my experiences as a multi-dimensional energy healer I am hoping that I can provide wisdom and guidance for people who have awoken and are on the high road of spiritual ascension and evolution, because we are all a part of the one spirit that is in everything experiencing what it is life to be a human being. 




    website: http://www.starcrystalportal.com/books/the-doos-of-dawn

    linkedin: https://ca.linkedin.com/in/joe-machney-5535518b
    twitter: https://twitter.com/JoeMachney

    google: https://plus.google.com/+JoeMachneyspiritualwriterhealer12/posts

    facebook: https://www.facebook.com/joseph.machney


    Here is the buy link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00VNCIA2O



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