She writes to draw the reader into the story to experience what the characters feel, to show both the hero's and heroine's points of view, and to take the reader away from their everyday stress to a place not yet visited.
A trip to Dubois, Wyoming, south of Yellowstone, inspired her time-travel novel. The landscape and town locations described in NEVER SURRENDER are real. Jon Daley, a professor at Boise State University, translated the Shoshone language that you will find in the book. This novel won an Honorable Mention in the 2008 Quill Awards at Writing.com and in 2016 won the Marie M. Irvine Literary Excellence Award.
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Is it possible for souls to travel through time and reunite more than one hundred years later? Does the soul continually search until somehow, it finds the one true soul mate even through time? Anything is possible when one believes in soul reincarnation. A half-breed warrior has entered into Kate’s dream, in search of her as his soul mate and doesn’t let her rest until she is reunited in time with her true lover from a past life. Kate and Taima endure personality clashes, jealousy and shapeshifters before they understand what the Great Spirit has planned for them.
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Kate and Brandon have just met, yet their souls have reconnected from a past life each of them must now learn more about. Kate’s previous dreams are becoming reality as she talks with Brandon about her dream-travel back in time. She can’t believe the resemblance that Brandon has to the man in her dream-travel, nor the romantic feelings she has toward a man she’s never met.
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Keep reading for an excerpt from Never Surrender:
Keeping his gaze trained ahead of him, Taima strode past a group of giggling young girls, wishing Ahanu would catch up with him. He needed to talk with Sakima and inform him of Kate’s presence and why she was here, though the older man had probably seen her arrival in one of his visions. Sakima’s knowledge always seemed to astound Taima. For one individual to know so much of what the spirit gods sent their way proved fact enough that Sakima was their chosen shaman.
He sat cross-legged before a fire, wrapped in a buffalo hide. Wise beyond his fifty summers, Sakima’s dark eyes met Taima’s. Their gazes never broke as Taima sat across from him at the fire, next to Ahanu. The three sat in silence for a long time.
“You are troubled, my son.”
Taima looked into the fire, then poked at the glowing embers with a stick. “Noshi...father...capturing the white woman has disturbed memories I would rather not dwell on.”
“Sometimes the spirits know more than we do. Perhaps they think it is time you did dwell on your memories. Perhaps now, it is time to think of the past again.”
Taima gazed into the older warrior’s profound, dark eyes, not wanting to stir his own painful thoughts. “Noshi, please . . .”
The shaman nodded slowly. “Nechan...my son...I, too, have memories of your mother. She came to mean more than life to me. But from the Great Spirits, I’ve learned we must often face the past in order to carry on into our future.”
Taima sighed and stared at the early stars. “Have your Great Spirits advised you how to deal with the sorrow of dredging up what’s better left in the past?” He glanced back at his father, trying to read his thoughts through the seasoned dark eyes that gazed back at him.
“Yes, Nechan...and you will always feel a tug on your heart whenever you think of your wife or mother. But you have dealt with these emotions before and though our group here is small, our people look to you for strength and guidance. You’ve never disappointed them in this task. Now it is your turn to learn to pull strength from those around you.”
This time, Ahanu poked the fire with a twig. Taima watched the tip dig through the glowing embers, feeling his heartburn with pain, as though the coals were within his chest.
He fought against the memories that never disappeared from his thoughts. The vision of his slender wife, her dark eyes gazing from a delicate, oval face, never disappeared from his mind’s eye or the memory of her hair’s silkiness when he ran his fingers through its length, nor the softness of her warm, naked flesh against his own. His heart ached to be with her, something he wished for daily. Because of the white man, he would never again see or touch her...and he could not allow a white woman to replace those thoughts and memories.
The white man had also robbed him of a mother with more tenderness and spirit than three women put together. Her loving blue eyes would forever haunt his dreams.
The fire before him blurred as Taima blinked away the tears that threatened to fall.
Kate was white...and beautiful, but that was not her fault, and he honestly couldn’t hate her for it. What he did not want was to fall in love with her, to have her memory invade his thoughts. Those tender thoughts were reserved only for his wife. He knew he couldn’t be around Kate but to release her into the wilderness after the raid would have been the same as murder.
Ahanu’s wife, Aiyana, could see to her training. Kate would be a needed worker, one to help with the meat and hides of the coming hunt. She would be kept too busy to cause anyone problems, especially him.
“Your anger and hatred are easily read in your eyes, Nechan. You must learn to control your emotions. I, too, am angry at the white man for taking my woman from me.” His father paused a moment before continuing. “How are you going to deal with this new woman?”
