Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Susan Page davis and Superstition Mountain ♦ Giveaway

Superstition Mountains / Lost Dutchman State Park in Arizona,
near Apache Junction. From Google Images


Book Title: My Heart Belongs in the Superstition Mountains
Author Name: Susan Page Davis              
Publisher: Barbour
Release Date: March 1, 2017
Genre:  historical romance (western)
Series/Stand Alone: standalone in the My Heart Belongs line
Target Audience: General



From the back cover:
Journey now to Tuscon, Arizona, and into the Superstition Mountains of 1866, where...
 A Chance for Escape Takes Two Unlikely Allies on a Romantic Adventure Along a Desert Trail
            Since orphaned at age twelve, Carmela Wade has lived a lie orchestrated by her uncle, pretending to be a survivor of an Indian kidnapping and profiting from telling her made-up story on the speaker circuit. But as she matures into adulthood, Carmela hates the lies and longs to be free. On a stagecoach in Arizona Territory, Carmela and her uncle are fellow passengers with US Marshal Freeland McKay and his handcuffed prisoner.
           The stage is attacked. Now a chance to make a new life may suddenly be within Carmela’s reach. . .if she can survive the harsh terrain and being handcuffed to an unconscious man.

            Will Carmela’s wish come true, or will she forever be branded by her past?

Excerpt of My Heart Belongs in the Superstition Mountains:
He allowed questions for about fifteen minutes, and Carmela had to respond to them. This part frightened her, because she had no idea what they would ask. For the most part, people wanted more details about the ambush and her time in captivity. She tried to make it sound as realistic as she could, but she had to invent some details about the work the imaginary Indians had forced her to do and the living arrangements she supposedly had with a Mojave family.
“What did you use to tan the deer skins?” one man called out.
“I—I don’t know.” She glanced at Uncle Silas.
“Most likely it was brains,” he said. “Isn’t that what the savages usually do?”
Brains? Really? Whose brains? Carmela thought she would be sick. Uncle Silas would probably make her learn all the details about that next.
“Did the redskins hurt you bad?” The woman in yellow asked.
Uncle Silas said firmly, “My niece suffered wounds as well as many indignities and humiliations. We ask that you not press her too closely for details. There are things she needs to forget.”
Carmela knew her cheeks were flaming.
Finally it was over. She turned and walked quickly out the back door of the saloon. Her uncle had told her to stay with him through the final applause, but she couldn’t stand to be in there another minute.
The cool night air helped some, but her lungs still felt squeezed. She flopped down on the wooden steps in the shadow of the building and sobbed. How could Uncle Silas say such things about her and make her say them too? It wasn’t true, any of it, but she couldn’t deny it. If she didn’t say her piece word-perfect and reply to the people’s questions with the answers he had formulated, she would pay dearly for it later.
Her tears came faster, and she put her head down, burying her face in her skirt, and wept.
Hesitant footsteps jerked her upright.
“Are you all right, miss?”
He was a boy, not much older than she was, standing in the alley between the saloon and the mercantile next door. His pale hair gleamed in the moonlight, almost white, and curly.
She sniffed and wiped her face with her sleeve. “Yes, thank you.”
“Are you sure?” He stepped closer. “You’re her, aren’t you?”
“Wh-what?”
“You’re that girl that the Indians stole. I saw the handbills, but my brother wouldn’t give me a dime to go and listen to you.”
Fresh tears bathed Carmela’s face. “I’m glad he didn’t.”
“Why? Don’t you want people to come to the show?”
She shook her head vehemently. “I wish there wasn’t any show.”
“Do you not like speaking to people?”
“It’s awful.”
“Why did you do it, then?”
“I have to,” Carmela blurted, before she thought of the consequences.
The boy frowned and peered closely at her. “Here.” He thrust a crumpled handkerchief into her hand.
She hauled in a ragged breath. “Thanks.”
“My name’s Will.”
She wiped her face and looked up at him. “I’m Carmela.”
“Can I help you somehow?”
She shook her head. “No one can help.”
“Why not?” 
Carmela looked over her shoulder at the closed door behind her. She was forbidden to speak to anyone about her circumstances, but she would explode if something didn’t change. Uncle Silas had told her that he was now her legal guardian. Unless a miracle happened, she would have to answer to him until she was twenty-one—another seven years.
“My parents are dead, and my uncle—he’s in charge of me. I have to do what he says.”
“Even if you don’t want to?”
She sobbed and clutched the handkerchief to her mouth. She gave a quick nod.
Will stood before her, shifting from one foot to another. “Look, I’m going to get my brother. Wait here. He can do something.”
“No, don’t do that. He couldn’t possibly—”
“He’s a deputy marshal.”
Carmela stared at him. Could a deputy marshal get her out of this mess? She doubted it. Uncle Silas avoided lawmen whenever possible. She had a vague idea that what she and her uncle were doing was illegal. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You wait.”
Will turned and ran up the alley, then dashed around the corner of the building. As he ran, the door behind Carmela opened. She knew without looking that Uncle Silas stood in the doorway. She could smell his hair pomade and feel his displeasure.
“There you are. Come on. We have to get our things. We have a stagecoach to catch. We’ll do this again in the next sizable town.”

Carmela’s heart sank. He had made her tell the story in every town they stopped at on this never-ending journey. The white-haired boy and his brother could do nothing.


Author bio:
Susan Page Davis is the author of more than seventy published novels. She’s a two-time winner of the Inspirational Readers’ Choice Award and the Will Rogers Medallion, and also a winner of the Carol Award and a finalist in the WILLA Literary Awards. A Maine native, she now lives in Kentucky. Visit her website at: www.susanpagedavis.com , where you can see all her books, sign up for her occasional newsletter, and read a short story on her romance page.

Find Susan at:
Twitter: @SusanPageDavis
Find My Heart Belongs in the Superstition Mountains at:

The Giveaway:
Susan is giving away a copy (paperback or ebook) of My Heart Belongs in the Superstition Mountains to one lucky person who leaves a comment in the section below. US only, please. In your comment, be sure to provide your email contact information-disguised-such as you (at) abcxyz (dot) com --so we can contact you if you're the winner.
Giveaway ends one week from today, Wednesday, March 15, at Midnight, Central Time. Winner will be drawn through random.org and notified via email on Thursday, March 16. So be sure to check your Inbox then!


9 comments:

  1. Thanks for being my guest today, Susan. It was a pleasure having you here.

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  2. It's always fun to visit Whispers in Purple, Peggy! Thanks for inviting me.

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    1. You're more than welcome, Susan and you have an open invitation to return again.

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  3. Love your books inspiredsmile (at)att (dot)net

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  4. Hi, 'unknown' -- thanks for visiting here with Susan. I've entered you in the drawing but would you mind providing me with your first name, please?

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  5. I love Susan's writing and would love to read this book in the newest Barbour series. thanks for this chance. rosemccauleywrites AT gmail DOT com

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  6. Hi, Rose, so good to see you here! I have entered you in the giveaway, so keep a lookout in your inbox next week :)

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