Needed Gifts from the Garden by Brenda Whiteside

I've had an absolutely unexpected month with sorrow and joy, frustration and accomplishment. I looked at the May topics and realized what's kept me going are Gifts from the Garden. But I need to make that plural - Gardens. My gardens come in several forms. I have a perennial garden, a vegetable garden and one of my publishers considers their authors a garden.

We moved into our home right after the first of the year. The house had been vacant for two years and the work it took to clean the place up has been back breaking. We have two and a half acres with fruit trees and a garden but of course it all had gone to weed.

So, like I said, this month has had its ups and downs. Spring descended on the northern prairie this month and the gifts helped make up for the downs. It's such a surprise to wander outside and discover perennial plants that I didn't labor over. A gift!

In the vegetable garden, asparagus popped up. What a surprise. Asparagus takes three years to get a good crop. How great the former owner planted them and how great Mother Nature was to keep them lurking and happily waiting for water. We have asparagus every other dinner.

And in my final garden, The Wild Rose Press garden, my latest book will release on July 4th. It's part of a series, The Honky Tonk Hearts. Other books in the series from other authors began releasing in April.

In my world, Spring has sprung and gifts abound.

Blurb:

Can there really be love at first sight?

Abigail Martin doesn’t think so. Unless the sexy redheaded stranger she wakes up with the morning after her best friend’s wedding is telling the truth.

Bobby Stockwood fell cowboy-hat-over-boot-heels for the brown-haired beauty, and married her in an impromptu wedding ceremony.  Now he just has to convince his new bride that the morning after can be the first day of the rest of their lives.

But just when Abigail starts believing the fairy-tale is real, she finds out exactly who Bobby is, and the walls of make-believe start crumbling down.

Excerpt:

A moan.

The man rolled to his back, kicking off covers.

Abigail gasped. Her gentleman visitor wore only a bow tie and black socks.

She crept to the edge of the bed. His face was turned away, further hidden by red curls hanging down the nape of his neck and onto his cheek. A visual sweep of the attractive body brought a smile to her face when she paused on his more than ample endowments. A true redhead. An encounter of this magnitude should be easy to remember.

Abigail smiled in spite of her throbbing temples. Inching closer, she nudged his boots aside with her foot and leaned over to see his face. Mmm. He smelled good, like rich leather and fresh cut wood. As she bent to get a closer look, Kirby, her sixteen-pound Siamese cat, entered her room and announced his hunger.

The visitor stirred, grasped her arm, drawing her down across his hips.

He rose up on his elbows and looked at her. “So, Abby, you’re a morning person, are you?”

Abigail launched off the bed, trying not to come into contact with anymore of the warm body than she already had. Tripping over the boots, she ended up sprawled on the floor. “Who…” She gulped. “Who the hell are you?”

Visit Brenda at www.brendawhiteside.com.

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She blogs on the 9^th and 24^th of every month at http://rosesofprose.blogspot.com

She blogs about prairie life on her personal blog http://brendawhiteside.blogspot.com/