The past few weeks have been horrible. First, Hurricane
Helene, tore through Florida and up into western North Carolina, eastern
Tennessee and Virginia, leaving death and destruction in her wake. Then
Hurricane Milton ripped Florida a new one, from which clean up is just now
beginning.
Even having lived in Virginia Beach for many years, my
experience with hurricanes was small. But my senior year of high school, in
Florida, I experienced a somewhat mile Hurricane Camille. Somewhat mild in
Florida. When she raced north, through Alabama, Tennessee, North Carolina and
up the Shenandoah Valley into Virginia, she somehow gained strength in
destruction. She wiped out the town of Vesuvius in Virginia and caused a
100-year flood on the James River up the road from what would one day become my
hometown. Now, Helene has done the same to the area of North Carolina that I
visited so often as a child. Dad was from an area outside Asheville called
Sandy Mush (pictured here). I have no idea why. Now the population is 344 but it was much less
back in the day. It was a mystical place filled with hard-working people who
dealt with hardship and praised God for their blessings. The terrain was so
mountainous that my uncle’s barn and cows were on one steep slope, while across
the road the land dropped off so much the roof on his house is all you could
see from the road. Having grown up in the city, Sandy Mush was like going to a
different planet. But it was fun. In that regard, I could identify with
Jack/Kyle in my book.
This excerpt is from what was originally titled It’s All
Relative. This book will be republished very soon and I don’t even have a
working title or cover yet. It’s the closest thing I’ve written that pays
homage to Asheville and Wonderful Western North Carolina and too my family
still there—and thankfully safe (though not sound, yet) after Helene.
Blurb:
When
Jack and Sally meet one weekend in Nags Head, neither are prepared for the
instantaneous attraction they feel. It makes both of them nervous, and while it
was wonderful, there’s relief felt when the weekend ends. Months later, in a
city on the opposite side of the state, Geneva Jameson is shocked to meet Kyle
McCaislin, the cousin she’d never met—and the man she’d known as Jack. Sparks
fly between the two as they try to deal with their quandary, not knowing the
many surprises before them. Will their hearts discover what their minds already
know? That in passion as in life, things aren’t always what they seem.
Buy link:
Coming soon
Excerpt:
Just
when she thought they were finished, the minister gestured for her to come
forward. What was this? She didn’t have a part in the service. She had turned
slightly to see if someone behind her was getting up, when Kyle stood and
walked to the front. He moved behind the podium, rested his hands on each side
and looked out into the church.
“Good
morning. I know it’s late and hot and I won’t keep you. My name is Kyle
McCaislin and my father was known to some of you here.” Geneva heard a murmur of voices in
acknowledgement. “I only wanted to share with you some few remembrances of my
namesake, my grandfather. I can’t say I spent much time with him, but he
ensured that the time we had together was meaningful and exciting. Especially
to a young boy.
“My
sister and I grew up in New York City,
in a brick building in a block of other brick buildings and concrete streets.
It was a nice section of Manhattan and we had a good childhood, but starting
from when I was quite little my dad brought me home, here to Asheville, to
spend a month each summer with his parents, and I saw a world totally different
from where I lived.” Kyle glanced at the front row of people. “Unfortunately,
these visits always took place during the time you and your families were off
on vacations, so we never got the chance to get to know each other. Based on
the fact that we never had contact, I’d say that was all planned, for some
reason.” He looked at Geneva,
and then out into the church again. “Feelings between my dad and Grandpa
weren’t good when Dad left home, but they made things up over the years, and by
the time of our last visit, when I was eighteen, the love between them was
evident.”
Kyle
cleared his throat and looked down at the podium for a moment before
continuing. “When I was small, I only remember a big man. Gruff to everyone but
me, with whom he was gentle as a lamb. I sat on his stomach as he lay on the
sofa and read me stories. He was a horse on the living room floor when I wanted
to be a cowboy. He was an endless source of stories about the fairies and magic
of Scotland,
and a boon companion when grandma baked scones and we sat on the back steps
eating them slathered with butter, watching the clouds.
“When
I was older, Grandpa took me on hikes around the estate, pointing out trees,
flowers, bushes, animals. He was a genius when it came to planting and
gardening, and he knew every bird in the forest.” Kyle smiled, as he noted
heads nodding in agreement. “Visits to the Biltmore gardens were frequent, and
we went on other trips, too. He showed me where O. Henry had once lived, out in
Weaverville, landmarks for Thomas Wolfe and the Carl Sandburg home. He once
slid off Slippery Rock with me, and we admired the view from Blowing Rock. He
showed me Grandfather
Mountain where the
highland games are played, and Cade’s Cove in the Great Smoky Mountains National
Park, where we watched bears lumber across our
path. These things all inspired a boy who spent most of his year surrounded by
mountains of skyscrapers rather than mountains covered with trees and mountain
laurel, and Grandpa knew it. He wanted me to know his world and be able to
imagine it when I was home, so far from him. And I did.
“He
had a good philosophy for life too, and as a teenager, when I began to feel the
urge to rebel in some way, he told me stories replete with life lessons. His
eyes would twinkle when he got to the ‘punch line’ and he saw that I got it.
Usually his parables were laced with the Golden Rule, the importance of being
true to one’s self, the joy that comes from being generous, in business, life
and love, the vital connection between family—I think he emphasized that
because of the trouble between him and Dad—and that nothing—nothing—is
as important as love itself.” Kyle glanced at Geneva.
“These
were all tenets he embraced, as was obvious to anyone who ever knew him. I’ve
tried hard to keep these lessons in mind as I’ve grown and gone into business
for myself, and although I can’t say I have always paid attention to
them, they’ve been in my heart as a compass for me to find my way back to the
right path. I hope I’ve grown into a man he would be proud of. As proud as I
was that he was my grandpa.”
Geneva felt a lump in her
throat. What her uncle and the others had said about granddad had been
touching, but hearing these things about her grandfather from someone she
didn’t realize even knew him, was very moving. Kyle’s recollections of granddad
were somewhat different from her own, but basically it was obvious that they
had loved the same man. She could hear sniffling coming from several points
behind her and knew that Kyle was touching a chord with more people than just
her. She wondered why her grandfather had kept all of this such a secret. And
here Kyle had kept in touch with him until he was eighteen. She wondered why he
had stopped.
“Finally,
although my visits stopped when I started college, Grandpa and I always kept in
touch. We wrote constantly and exchanged gifts at Christmas.”
Geneva stared at Kyle in
shock. It was like a movie she had seen on TV once where a man died and it came
out that he had two families in different parts of the country. Her granddad
had led a whole secret life right up until he died, evidently. She knew it was
selfish, but she had always thought she was her grandfather’s favorite and now
a small part of her felt betrayed. She still loved him fiercely, and missed him
horribly, but here was a side of him that she hadn’t even known. Right along
with a cousin she hadn’t known.
“While
I was in the service and again after I started in business, I was able to
travel. I got to Scotland
several times and have been able to visit the town where he and grandma grew
up. As he would say, it’s a bonny place, and very much like the area around
here, which I’m sure is one reason he loved Asheville so much. I’m sorry he’s
gone from our lives, but I’m glad he and grandma are together again, and I’m
glad to be able to get to know, finally, the family I’ve missed knowing these
many years. Thank you.”
When
Kyle returned to his seat Geneva
noticed moisture in the corners of his eyes. She leaned her arm against him to
give some small comfort. The final hymn was announced and she nudged him with
her elbow. He leaned down and under the brim of her hat. “That was very nice,”
she whispered, suddenly aware with every nerve in her that his mouth was
enticingly close. But he simply nodded and stood up again.
Reviews:
“IT'S ALL RELATIVE takes a kissing-cousins story and turns
it into a hot,
emotional and surprising romance. She uses southern-vs-Yankee prejudices to
show cultural differences between the hero and heroine without resorting to
clichés, no easy task IMO. I don't want to give away the plot--there are
several surprising twists--but will say that the sexual attraction between
these two is undeniable and addictive, which makes for some steamy love
scenes. I couldn't put down my e-reader and stayed up late to finish because
I had to know how these two figured out they were in love and what they'd do
about it.”
A little about me:
A
few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning
fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk
with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.
After a while, Dee split her
personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and
Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are
found on the Nomad Authors website. And all three offer some of the best romance
you can find! Also, once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts,
where your comment can support a selected charity.
Author
links:
Website: https://nomadauthors.com
Blog:
http://nomadauthors.com/blog
Twitter:
http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight
Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN
Newsletter:
https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6
LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749
Sweet ‘n Sassy
Divas: http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K
