Mimosa Tales (Two book series)
Kindle Edition
From Book 1 The Hanging:
An innocent woman fearing for her life.
Six
mismatched lawmen trying to prevent crime.
The
beginning of an unusual family...or an end for them all?
After his
wife and children were murdered, all that Kris Jensen wanted was to die and
join them. Saved by a sacrificed friendship, he travels from one Territory town
to another with a tin star on his black duster, restless, intervening when
needed and then quickly moving on...until the town of Mimosa asks him to stay
as their Marshal. And he says yes, though he doesn’t know why.
Maybe it’s
the five misfits who stood by his side when he needed them most, risked their
lives to help him save an innocent man from a lynching. Maybe it’s the pretty
widow with the eyes like a dove. Maybe he’s starting to care.
And maybe
they’re all going to die, for the cattle baron William Cahill isn’t going to
forgive Judge Evan Davis for sentencing Cahill’s nephew Carlton to hang. Judge
Davis is going to suffer, and so is his widowed daughter-in-law, Holly. The six
misfit lawmen? He doesn’t care for the law. He does what he wants. And he wants
them all dead.
The new
western series filled with friendship and romance starts with The Hanging – if
Kris and his friends – his new family – can survive the inevitable shootout.
But can they, or are they going to die like his old family did?
Excerpt from The Hanging (Book One)
Winn Turner was all
those things, and as the days tumbled by, Kris Jensen was pleasantly surprised
to learn he was too.
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Excerpt from The Hanging (Book One)
The Marshal
What on Earth was he thinking?
What possessed him to agree to this? He
should not still be here. He should have gone long before it had come to this.
Why did this town keep him tethered here instead of moving on? What made it so
different from the dozen or so communities he drifted through since pinning the
tin star to his black duster? It was
just another town in the Territory, lawless and dust blown. It was not the kind
of place anyone ought to get too comfortable because small towns like this were
finite.
The desert creep would eventually swallow
them whole.
Marshal Kris Jensen shouldn’t have even
considered staying. He already had a job as a deputy marshal, moving from duty
to duty, nothing to lay claim on him.
Yet something about Mimosa, made him stay after its troubles with a local
land baron demanded his intervention. The town had asked him to remain as
marshal, and instead of refusing outright, he considered it. For the first time
in three years, after putting his dead family into the ground, he actually
considered it.
Deep down, he knew why of course, despite
all efforts to deny it.
Kris was starting to care. Not just about
the town he helped save, or the pretty widow with the eyes like a dove, who
spoke on its behalf. He was staying for
the men he encountered during the trouble, the five other misfits with no
particular place to be, who gravitated towards him because they all recognized
the bond forged during the fight. Even now, when things were settled, they
looked to him for leadership, understanding without needing to say a word, they
needed each other.
Deny it as he might, something inside Kris
knew they were right.
Every instinct Kris possessed told him
this arrangement had disaster written all over it, and he was a man trapped on
a wild steed he couldn’t dismount. Still, he could pinpoint the exact moment he
climbed onto its back. A good man was about to die, and Kris chose to intervene
because he wouldn’t stand for it.
Whatever scars were left after the loss of Rachel and the children, he
wasn’t completely devoid of all decency to permit such an atrocity.
More than willing to face the racist mob
intending to justify murder because the color of a man’s skin was wrong, Kris
found a stranger at his side, ready to walk into the fire with him. Yet when he looked into the cobalt-blue eyes
of the man next to him, what Kris Jensen saw was no stranger, but a friend who
would always be at his side, no matter what.
It had been a long time since he felt such
a connection, but the young tracker’s stare reminded him of who he once was,
when the world was young, and he wasn’t quite so broken. Where words like honor
and justice were not the punchline to a joke, but the cornerstones of his
being. When he had been a man who cared, not yet gutted by the anguish of loss.
About the
Author
Born in a
village in Malaysia and delivered by underpaid midwife, and Ann, an irritable
new mother (who wouldn't be after 48 hours in labour?), X was named by a
deranged grandmother with too much creativity for her own good. Once out of her
pain-induced stupor, Ann decided to give her new daughter a proper middle name
to avoid the risk of being put into a home later in life.
And so, she
was called Linda.
Linda was an
unremarkable child, save a few notable incidents, the discovery that a pot lid
is not a substitute for Wonder Woman's tiara (five stitches), four-year old
don't need to shave (no stitches but lots of toilet paper) and utility truck
drivers are not necessarily qualified operators of their vehicles (seventy
stitches).
At eight,
Linda received religious enlightenment when she saw Star Wars at the Odeon
Theatre and hence began her writing career.
For many
years, the cages of various pets in the Thackeray household were littered with
pages from Linda's scribblings. Subjects usually ranged from whatever science
fiction show was on television or at the movies. There was lots of Star Wars.
At 17, Linda
moved to Sydney, Australia and was disappointed it was not occupied by Paul
Hogan types with big knives and croc skin jackets but pot-bellied blokes with
zinc cream and terry towel hats. Linda's father (also known as that bloke who
buys me stuff to piss mum off when she's mad at him) settled in the town of
Young, a community of 6000 people with no movie theatre.
Linda
survived this period in the wilderness by raising kangaroos and writing
original works but eventually got saddled down with the necessities of life and
though she continued to write, work came first. Work, HBO, comic books and
rent. It's a kaleidoscope.
Even the
kangaroos left out of boredom.
In 2014,
Linda decided to start writing seriously again. Mostly because Australia's
strict gun laws make it very difficult to 'go postal' in the workplace. Moving
to Woy Woy, which is Aboriginal for 'Big Water', she's dipped her toes into the
Indie pool and found she needs a pedicure. Her books are labours of love and
championed by her friends on Facebook.
Eventually
Creativia Publishers, appalled by Linda's inability to conduct any marketing,
offered to publish her books out of sheer exasperation.
Supported by
two cats named Newt and Humphrey, she spends her days trying to write novels
while having unclean thoughts about Michael Fassbender and Jason Statham,
sometimes together.
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