New Christian Historical Fiction for Review: A Texan’s Choice by NY Times Bestselling Author Shelley Gray

A Texan's Choice Shelley Gray will be touring November 5 – 23 with her Christian historical fiction novel, A Texan’s Choice.

When notorious outlaw Scout Proffitt wins a rundown ranch in west Texas, he expects to find the home he’s never had. Instead, he finds a run-down shack, a barn in dire straits…and a lovely woman who’s in no hurry to give up her ranch.

When Scout discovers that Rosemarie has nowhere else to go, he   reluctantly allows her to stay with him for two weeks until she can find another home. But soon the locals get involved and insist they marry.

Determined to do at least one thing right in his life, he marries Rose. Then people from his past come back and give him an offer he can’t refuse. If things go well, he can make a fresh start. If not, he’ll be even worse off than before.

Which was something he never thought possible…

Excerpt:

November, 1874

West Texas

They’d been waiting for her father to die for five days.

Only a strong sense of duty drove Rosemarie back into the darkened room, where the scents of whiskey and sickness grabbed her the moment she crossed the threshold. When she coughed, both to adjust her nose and eyes to the dim, thick air, six faces turned to her in surprise. The seventh occupant  was oblivious.

“Sorry,” she murmured around yet another cough.

“Rosemarie. Hush now,” her mother ordered. “You’re gonna disturb your pa.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Yet-as much as Rose could tell-Pa continued to lay motionless. The only sign he was still alive was the faint fluttering of collar of his nightshirt. Though she hadn’t been invited to do so, Rosemarie edged closer to the bed.

It wasn’t easy to do. There were a lot of people packed into the too-small bedroom, and the place had never been much to begin with.

Of course, it went without saying that their whole house had never been much. Her father had built it from a slew of cast-off boards from someone else’s broken barn. Judging by the gaps in the planks, Rose had always assumed the former owners had known what they were doing when they’d left the wood for scrap before heading back east.

Her family had settled into the place eight years ago, in the midst of the war, and had promptly named it the Circle C. Though the red dirt and loads of dust didn’t look like much of anything, Pa had said it the land was as good as any.

He was happy to settle and escape the fighting, though Rose never had exactly understood what was wrong with him.

Her mother had slapped her silly the one time she’d asked.

Now, though, her father seemed dwarfed by his past as much as the old iron bed frame above his head, the pair of oak rocking chairs to his left, and group of bodies surrounding him.

Rosemarie stood in the perimeter, looking in, trying to see her father’s face. Even if it was for one last time.

But all she saw was the jumble of covers covering the majority of his chest. A wide splotch of brownish liquid that had soaked into the warring rings making up the quilt. The once pristine white and soothing pink rings looked pretty pitiful, and that was the truth.

His breathing was labored.

“How is he doing? Any change?” she finally asked, unable to bear the silence anymore. Unable to bear the idea that the waiting would continue. And continue.

“Ah, Rose.” Doc glanced her way over a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles. “I’m afraid I have no good news for you. He’s about the same.”

“His breathing slowed,” her mother added, somewhat hopefully.

With a weary nod, the preacher nodded. “I believe it has. He’ll be with the Lord soon.”

“That’s good.” She said the words without thinking, really.

The comment had come from a sense that too much had happened that could never be repaired. They’d known for days now that their father wasn’t going to get better, and since they’d begun the deathwatch, the atmosphere among all of them had turned into a helpless sense of inevitability.

And sickness.

Actually, the air in the room was so thick with the mingling of warm bodies, the light so dim, and the smell of sickness and despair so overpowering, Rose knew death would have to be better than the current situation.

320 words

You can visit the author’s website at www.shelleyshepardsgray.com.

If you would like to review A Texan’s Choice, please fill out the form below or email Dorothy Thompson at thewriterslife(at)gmail.com. Please mention which date would work for you. Deadline for inquiries end October 25 or until the tour is filled. Thank you!

Pump Up Your B ook Promote Your Books


Leave a Reply