Join The Roses and me in welcoming Katya Armock as our guest blogger today. She has a prize for some lucky person, so read on!
Even though I live in a large city
now, I still love the country and respect my rural roots, which is why I wanted
to write a romance series that took place in rural Michigan. So my latest
series, Perry Grove, incorporates some of my childhood memories, as well as
stories told by my parents and in-laws.
I grew up four miles outside a
village of 600 people, on a dirt road, and surrounded by fields on a rotating
crop of soybeans, corn, and winter wheat. We had one close neighbor, who had
three boys, the oldest of whom was four
years younger than me. I had no siblings, so I spent a lot of time roaming on
my own. Our other neighbors were more than a quarter mile away.
About a mile away was a cattle operation,
which was far enough away we didn’t smell manure too often, but close enough
that sometimes we did. Worse was the smell of fermenting corn used as their
feed, which sometimes got carted by our house in large bins towed by tractors.
The upside to being on the path between grain storage and cows was that the
farmer always made sure our road was plowed in the winter. I decided to make my
first hero, Jeremiah, a dairy farmer, although the cattle operation near my
childhood home was a beef operation. On the closest main road, there was a sign
that proudly proclaimed: “Beef. It’s what’s for dinner!”
I, of course, went to school with a
lot of farmers, although my family never farmed—we just lived in an old
farmhouse built in the 1870s, with an addition built at some later date I don’t
recall. We did garden, though.
Mostly what I remember are the
summer days spent outdoors. I wiled away hours in a maple tree in our backyard.
I loved the years corn was planted because I could hide among the stalks (thank
goodness I have an excellent sense of direction since I sometimes wandered
farther than I probably should have). Growing up in such a remote area made me
feel safe to explore, and I rarely encountered other people. Instead, I found
fertile ground in my imagination. I hope you will find some of my love of the
rural Midwest in Monica’s Match.
I’d love to hear your stories about
time spent in rural areas. Leave a comment about your experiences and one
winner will get an ebook copy of Monica’s
Match.
Blurb:
Monica has the ability to see a
guy’s aura light up the first time he touches his soul mate, but she’s kept it
a secret since her parents shamed her as a child. Still, she decides to start
her own matchmaking company—even if she doesn’t advertise her unique ability.
Business is so-so until she gets a call to find matches for the singles of the
small town of Perry Grove. She’s not looking for love herself but has an
immediate attraction to one of her clients. Too bad another woman lit up his
aura.
Hunky dairy farmer Jeremiah wants
nothing to do with his grandpa’s hare-brained matchmaking scheme but agrees to
play along to appease the man who raised him. But when he meets the sexy
matchmaker, he starts to rethink his single status. Too bad she’s intent on pairing
him up with another woman. If there’s one thing he knows, though, it’s how to
be stubborn.
Excerpt:
Jeremiah scooted
until his back rested against the tree and then patted the ground next to him
with that charming, dimpled grin back on his almost painfully handsome face. “Give me ten more minutes. You haven’t relaxed yet, and
under this tree is the best place to unwind.” His voice was a smooth drawl with
just the right amount of pleading to batter at her defenses.
Monica hesitated
and glanced at her smartphone to note the time. No one expected her back for
about thirty-five minutes. Time was just not on her side.
“Come on. You told me yourself you haven’t spent much time
in the country. Take a few moments to smell the fresh air and listen to the
wilds.”
Oh, what the heck? They could easily spend the next
ten minutes arguing about whether to go or stay. She sank next to him on the
grass and leaned against the tree so her shoulder brushed his. The electric
sizzle she felt whenever she touched him was back.
He inhaled
deeply and let it out with a pleased sigh. He looked completely in his element,
his face relaxed and boyish. He shifted one leg over the other, and the move
pulled his T-shirt tight across his chest so she could clearly see just how
defined his pecs were. He took a deep breath.
Oh. Mama. She was sure the sun had just gotten
hotter.
He let the
breath out with a contented sigh. “Do
you smell the grass warmed by the sun? All the oxygen from the trees carried on
the cool breeze?”
She paid a bit more
attention to her next breath as she wiggled to try to find a more comfortable
position. The air did smell fresh, although there was still an undercurrent of
cow. “It’s nice.”
He looked at her
sidelong. “It’s more than nice. The country
air around here is the best smell you’ll ever experience.”
His impassioned
statement had her wanting to believe. She closed her eyes, relaxed against the
tree, and…what was poking her in the
tailbone? She scooted forward enough to pull the blanket back and find the offending
rock. She’d had quite enough of the outdoors for the day and started to stand,
but Jeremiah’s hand shot out and held her in a crouch.
“It’s just a rock. Move it and sit back down. You haven’t
fully smelled the air yet.”
Her glare didn’t inspire him to remove his hand, as she’d hoped it would.
His clear, blue eyes stared at her with equal parts challenge and amusement. He
wanted her to smell the cow-filled air? Fine.
She’d smell the damned cow-filled air.
With a huff she
plunked back down, and he released her arm so she could get herself situated.
Nothing poked her in the behind this time, and she leaned back against the
rough bark. His eyes burned into her, but she refused to acknowledge his
watchful stare or how very much she’d
like him to touch her again.
She needed to
relax and get this over with. She closed her eyes once more and drew the air
into her lungs. Now that she was paying attention, she caught the floral
fragrance of the grasses and weeds and wildflowers and trees. The air was
fresh. No sooty, dirty, city smell from the cars and houses and people.
“It’s so quiet. I don’t hear a single car.”
He chuckled. “Sit here long enough and you’ll learn just how much racket
a single car makes. But it’s not quiet out here. Nature is a symphony.”
She listened for
those other sounds now. Birds tweeting to each other, insects buzzing, the
rustling of leaves overhead. She even heard something scurrying through the
taller grasses.
It
was beautiful. Peaceful. She felt herself relax farther against the tree, the
bark biting into her back but not uncomfortably. She felt almost…happy. When was the last time she’d truly felt that way?
Buy Links:
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About Kayta:
These days you’ll find me writing,
pet sitting, juggling a number of freelance gigs, and reigning as my home’s
domestic goddess. I live in the Midwestern U.S. with my husband and cats. Alas,
I have, as of yet, been unable to teach my husband how to purr.
You can contact me at
katya.armock@gmail.com.
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