Monday, February 24, 2014

Inspired by Memories

by Jennah Scott

I’m so excited for The Devil’s Bond. The idea for the story came to me when I was on a trip to South Dakota. My family and I stopped at all the tourist sites: Mount Rushmore, Devil’s Tower, Crazy Horse, and a few other small ones. At each place my husband took loads of pictures, giving me time to absorb the scenery. The location that stuck with me the most was Devil’s Tower. I stood at the bottom of the tower and looked up to the sky. The beauty rendered me speechless. A couple of people were climbing the monument while we were there, which was beyond amazing. I’m slightly afraid of heights so the thought of doing what they were doing was anxiety inducing! And awe-inspiring at the same time.

As we walked the trail around the bottom the idea for Garrett and Annaliese began to form. The prayer ties caught my attention almost immediately and I knew right away that’s what Garrett went to the Tower for. Each piece of the puzzle came together and on our ten-hour trip home I wrote non-stop.

So this story is inspired by memories. I hope you enjoy Annaliese and Garrett’s adventure in love. 

On a vacation she didn’t ask for, Annaliese Becker follows her muse from Dallas to Freewill, Wyoming. Along the way, she takes pictures and sketches monuments—like Devil’s Tower. A brief glimpse of a handsome Native American makes an impression on the artist.

Fulfilling a promise to his grandfather, Garrett Falcon stops at Devil’s Tower and spots a lovely woman. When he meets her in Freewill, he believes fate has spoken and pursues Annaliese—determined to convince her to stay in Freewill—with him. 

Vacations are supposed to end, but her heart longs to stay in Freewill. Can Garrett convince her they were meant to be together? 

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About the Author:
Born and raised in Texas, Jennah is a transplant to Missouri long enough ago she should probably consider that her hometown. But she will forever be a Texan. She loves to write any story that will make a reader smile, laugh, and maybe even cry (although you won't ever hear her admit that she cries). Whether the next story she writes is contemporary, urban fantasy, LGBT, or whatever other crazy idea she comes up with, there will always be love and romance in the midst of trials and turmoil.
When she's not writing you can find her on Twitter, with her family, or buried in a book trying to escape reality for just a minute.

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Enjoy the following excerpt for The Devil’s Bond:
   The clean scent of pine and sage from the prayer ties attached to the trees surrounded her. She added pieces of cloth to her mental checklist of details to include. These prayers represented the people of the area. The sacredness of the tower.
   Over the years, she’d learned remembered sounds and fragrances added depth to her paintings.
   “Excuse me, ma’am.” She turned around and found a park ranger behind her, his arms folded across his chest. The gold badge on his left pocket stood out against the green of his shirt. 
   “Yes, sir?”
   “I’m sorry, but the park closes at sunset. I’m going to have to ask you to make your way down the trail.”
   “No problem. I’ll just gather my things and head back. It’s so peaceful out here, I’d like to say I lost track of time. But that’s not true. The sunset was too hard to resist. I’m sure you understand.” She picked up her sketchbook, charcoals, and pencils then placed them in their respective spots in her bag. The sketch she’d started wasn’t complete, but she had enough to continue it once she’d settled into the hotel for the night.
   The ranger offered a polite smile and held his hand out to help her stand. “I do, ma’am. It’s very peaceful out here. I’ve spent many nights under the stars, escaping the hustle and bustle of life.” 
   Oh, to see the night sky unhindered by city lights and sounds. “I can imagine. Have a nice evening.” 
   As Annaliese moved away from the ranger, she caught sight of another man a few feet off and to the left. The trees kept him hidden from her direct line of sight. Long, shiny, black-as-midnight hair fell down his back. From where she stood, only his profile was visible. He had skin the color of hot cocoa; sharp lines from his cheek and jawbone framed his face. He reached overhead and tied a purple swath of cloth to the tree. His lips moved, and she wondered what he was saying.
   He tilted his head back and, for a split second, their gazes locked. She jumped, startled at the intense connection snapping between. A desire to remember his features, paint him, enveloped her artist’s senses.
   A gruff sound from the ranger pulled her from her desires and daydreams. It was time to go. Freewill, Wyoming awaited her arrival. 

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