Saturday, February 9, 2013

Story Saturdays - A Fine Way For Things To Begin

First, I was privileged to post an article on author Karen Baney's blog yesterday. This piece, entitled "Enough is Enough", talks about knowing exactly when your story is the right length. Hope you'll check it out! 

Also, check out my author interview with Laura Marshall about the writing of Me & Timothy Cooper. 

Don't forget to purchase your copy of my ebook sale items. Me & Timothy Cooper (5 Star YA Romance) is only 99 cents until February 15th. That's only 6 more days!

★★★★★ "I have to say I don't read a lot of young adult fiction... But this novella by Suzanna D Williams was an effortless and truly insatiable read! Highly recommended by this writer!"

MISSING and FOUND are both now $2.99 each. 

Building up toward the launch of my next novel, Love & Redemption, (out March 1st) here's another excerpt from the book. Here, Michael and Anne O'Fallen awaken after their forced wedding to face an uncertain future and the fact they don't know each other.

Can't get enough of this story? Check out all my other posts. Check out the book trailer for the first 3 books in the series!

Take a trip into the past and fall in love with an Irishman. 

Morning sunlight creased her eyelids, and the sounds of men and horses stirring melded with the clang of cook pots, and the rumble of voices. Anne bolted erect with a gasp. “I had a dream.”
Michael propped his head on his elbow. He’d been laying there watching her. Her slender body curled into a ball, her hair wrapped about her throat, she’d fidgeted in her sleep.
“Of what?” he asked.
Her cheeks turned pink and she rolled over.
He reached for her, but stopped. “Anne?” he said. “If we’re to be husband and wife, we have to talk to each other.”
She twisted her head and met his gaze. “I dreamed of you and me.”
He stared at the movement of her lips. Soft and full. “And what were we doing?”
She covered her face with her hands. “This isn’t funny.”
He heaved a sigh. No, it wasn’t. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not. Look, why don’t we start with introductions.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Like, ‘Hi, I’m your wife?’”
He laughed and extended his hand. “Hi, I’m your husband.”
She stifled a giggle with her hand, then her laughter disappeared. “Seriously,” she asked. “Who are you?”


His smile dissolved, and her heart sank. This morning was the first time she’d seen him smile, and it had lit up his face. She liked that. She hadn’t meant to hurt him.
“I’m Michael O’Fallen.”
She inhaled sharply. “You have family?”
He shook his head. “My mama died last year. She was all I had left.”
The sadness in his eyes seeped into her soul. “Where are you from?” she asked.
“New York.”
She raised her head from the pillow. “That’s a long way off.”
He rolled onto his back. “Yes.”
“What about your father?”
His voice took on a strange lilt, and she bit her lip.
“My parents were Irish. My father died before I was born.”
Irish. That explained it.
“So your mother raised you.”
A wistful look crossed his face, and he seemed to drift from the room.
“Tell me about her,” she whispered.
His smile returned, and her heart fluttered. She’d do anything to keep it there.
“She was wonderful,” he said. “Always full of advice. I miss her.” He glanced at her. “Your father … he gambles?”
She rolled her eyes. “Always has. Nikki said he’d lost the farm, but ...”
His eyebrows arose.
“Nikki’s my brother.”
“Oh, the boy in the doorway.”
She nodded. “How does a parent gamble away their child?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know that hurts. But …”
She pulled her knees to her chest. “But what?”
“But … never mind.”
She laid her head on her knees and stared at him. “No, you said we were going to talk. What were you going to say?”
The rustle of the bushes interrupted their conversation, and Michael leaped to his feet.


It was just as well they’d been interrupted. He couldn’t admit to her he was glad. He wasn’t even sure he knew why he was.
“Wake up, lovebirds,” came an approaching voice.
“Ferguson,” he mumbled.
“That’s what they call him,” Michael explained.
Ferguson’s voice returned, gruff. “Time to rise.” He appeared through an opening, his gaze instantly moving over Anne’s body. He smacked his lips. “My, my,” he said.
Michael stepped into his view. He wouldn’t ogle her like that. “What do you want?”
Ferguson gave a chuckle. “You have sweet dreams?”
Michael scowled, and Ferguson laughed harder. “I see,” he said. “Well, I figured you two might be hungry, so I had the boys rustle up some grub. But you’ll have to eat quick ‘cause we’ve a ways to go before dark.”
“Go?” Anne spoke from the ground.
Ferguson wiped his mouth on a dirty sleeve. “You didn’t think we’d stay here, so close to home? No sirree. I got a spot picked out for you to begin your married life, but it’s a fair piece from here.”
Married life. The term soured in Michael’s gut.
This thought apparently bothered Anne too because she asked the question that was bothering him the most. “Why’d we have to marry in the first place?”
Ferguson curved his mouth in a wicked grin. “Now, that’ll all come out in time. Don’t you worry. For now, just eat your vittles and prepare to ride.”
“But …” She hesitated.
Michael glanced at her. What was she about to say?
“She has to dress first,” he snapped. She couldn’t possibly be expected to go all day wearing night clothes.
A slow smile spread across Ferguson’s face. “Mmm,” he grunted. “Well, just you enjoy that.”
Michael’s scowl returned. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited until Ferguson disappeared. He then leaned his head against a tree. “I hate that man,” he said. “One of these days …” He stopped himself. No. No more anger.
Her hands on his waist startled him, and he turned around. Shaking, he dropped an arm about her shoulders.  “What is it?”
She shook with sobs. “I’m … sorry …” she choked. “I … don’t … have any … clothing, and I … can’t ride … a horse.”
He resisted the urge to smile. It wasn’t funny, not to her. Her tears moistened his shirt.
“I guess you’ll have to borrow some of mine,” he replied. “You had on pants before, at the spring.”
She flung her face upward and her eyes sparked. “I had on nothing.”
He couldn’t stop his grin then.
“What a fine way to meet,” she fumed. “Don’t you laugh at me!”
He held up his hands. “I won’t. I’m sorry.”
Though he’d never forget it either.
He hugged her and sighed. “I’ll teach you to ride. It’ll be easier in pants anyhow. You’ll get less saddle sore.”
“Saddle sore?”
He laid a hand on her cheek. “By nightfall you’ll know what that is.”


Suzanne D. Williams
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

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