Tempest Tossed by Tracy Krauss


About the Book

“You’re heading down a dark path. I’ve seen it happen before. Reporters getting obsessed about things they can’t change.”

When journalist Tempest Ross encounters suspicious circumstances surrounding her parents’ death, she just can’t let it go, but pursuing the truth turns out to be deadlier than she realized. Her boyfriend, FBI agent Ryan O’Toole, has survived many dangerous missions, but this time the stakes are even higher as he tries to crack a diamond smuggling operation amidst insider corruption. Now both their lives – and their relationship – are at risk. Anne-Marie Fletcher may be a capable nurse, but personal insecurities make her flee to the NWT, where she inadvertently gets mixed up in the diamond heist.

Once again, follow the lives of three separate, but connected people as they navigate danger, corruption, and international intrigue. Tempest Tossed, Book 3 in the Three Strand Cord Series, reacquaints readers with characters from Books 1 and 2, bringing their story arcs to a close while reaffirming that unconditional love – including that of the heavenly Father – is worth more than diamonds.


Book Excerpt

Ryan leaned back in his desk chair, a foot straddling one knee as he drummed impatient fingers on the armrest. Tempest actually thought he might be a dirty cop! It stung.

Yes, they had been experiencing some issues lately, and he was man enough to admit that most of it was his fault. But he did have a job to do and for that he couldn’t apologize. Trained as a cop, now a Special Agent with the FBI, he’d reached the pinnacle of his career. He couldn’t just give it all away. For a woman.

But Tempest wasn’t just any woman. She was at one and the same time perceptive and naive; brave yet afraid to take a risk. Despite the fact that she was a journalist working for a hard-nosed guy like Frank Dunlop, she wasn’t cut out of that same cloth. She needed to be sheltered, and he had elected himself to do it.

His fingers stilled. Who was he kidding? It was so much more than that. He loved her. That was the real bottom line. So much so that he wanted to put a ring on it.

Which was why breaking up with her was the best option. It was the only way to create some distance so that she would be out of danger. What he was involved in right now – what she had tipped him off to by telling him about those photographs – could get dangerous. Deadly, even. And he wouldn’t allow her to be put in harm’s way. No matter his own feelings.


About the Author

Tracy Krauss is a multi-published novelist, playwright, and artist with several award winning and best-selling novels, stage plays, devotionals and children’s books in print. Her work strikes a chord with those looking for thought provoking faith based fiction laced with romance, suspense and humor. She holds a B.Ed from the U of S and has lived in many remote and interesting places in Canada’s far north. She and her husband currently reside in beautiful BC where she continues to pursue all of her creative interests. http://tracykrauss.com “Fiction on the edge – without crossing the line”


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Three Strand Cord by Tracy Krauss

About the Book

Tempest. Stella. Cherise. Fate brought them together, but can their friendship survive the tangled web of danger and deception that threatens their very lives? When Cherise convinces Tempest to pretend to be her so that she can sneak out of the country to be with her dashing Italian boyfriend, she is inadvertently implicated in an international drug ring. An unexpected complication forces Tempest to prolong the charade and she finds herself attracted to the very man who might be out to cause her harm. Meanwhile, Stella’s high ideals are met with suspicion and disdain at her father’s Texas ranch, until she uncovers a dangerous secret that could put all their lives in jeopardy. At the same time, her own errant emotions take over as she falls in love with two brothers at the same time. Things heat up when Cherise is kidnapped and the three friends must turn to one another – and God – to get out of harm’s way. Three Strand Cord is a story of intrigue and romance told from three different points of view, all coming together to prove that when it comes to true friendship, ‘a three strand cord is not easily broken’.

Book Excerpt


Stately red brick, manicured lawns, and well kept flower beds – the perfect backdrop for Parkview Private Girls’ Academy. Nature itself crowned all with a cobalt sky and warmth from the golden sun. All was exactly as it should be for an institution that prided itself on turning out well bred young ladies of means.

“Quick! This way!” A dark haired girl of about twelve gestured to her companions, her voice barely above a whisper. All three girls ducked around the sculpted hedge and squatted, peeping through the foliage.

The blonde one giggled. “This is sooo exciting!”

“What if we get in trouble?” The third girl pushed her glasses up on her nose with her forefinger. Her chestnut hair bobbed as she shook her head. “I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”

“Sh!” The dark haired ringleader held a finger to her lips. “Here comes Casey Brinks.”

The three waited, holding a collective breath as their arch nemesis, another twelve-year-old girl, neared the appointed spot under a tree. Suddenly, an explosion of water soaked her as a water balloon hit her dead on. “Ah!” The girl stood frozen while she tried to catch her breath.

“Come on,” hissed the leader – and the one with the accurate aim. The threesome crept from the shadows as stealthily as twelve-year-old girls wearing uniforms were able, and made a break for it, letting their excited giggles burst from their lungs unfettered.

“I see you, Stella Crayton!” The enraged mini-diva called after them, hands on hips. “You and your little cronies! The headmistress is going to hear about this!”

The girls kept running. They’d been caught outright and all that was left now was to wait for the punishment. Stella reached the maintenance shed first, her black hair flying out behind her. She yanked the door open and all three slipped inside.

“What do you think they’ll do?” Tempest’s eyes looked even bigger and wider behind her spectacles.

Stella shrugged. “Call our parents.”

“Do you think they’ll send us home? I don’t want to live with Aunt Rose.” Tempest frowned, her eyebrows disappearing behind the rims of her glasses.

Cherise flipped her blonde tresses back off her shoulders. “Don’t worry. Daddy’s on the board of directors.”

“Oh. Are you sure they won’t send us home?” Tempest’s eyes were wide, her voice hopeful.

“Nothing is ever for sure,” Stella stated. “But our folks are paying way too much for them to get rid of us. Besides, I’m the one who threw the balloon, not you.”

“But what if your folks make you go home?” Tempest began twisting her hands together. Stella snorted. “The last thing my stepmother wants is to have me back home.”

“You wouldn’t want to go and leave us anyway, would you?” Cherise teased. “Your two best friends in the whole world?”

Stella shrugged. “Not that I don’t love you two, but…”

“You miss Texas,” Tempest supplied. “Like I miss California. And… and…” She clamped her mouth, blinking her eyelashes rapidly.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Cherise put a comforting arm around Tempest’s shoulders. “I know you miss your folks. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost mine like you did. Even if they are a pain sometimes.”

Tempest shook her head. “I don’t want to live with Aunt Rose,” she stated again.

“We won’t let that happen. Will we, Stella?” Cherise looked to the other girl for confirmation.

“We’ll try our best.”

“Why doesn’t your stepmother like you?” Tempest swiped at a tear that had strayed down her cheek.

Stella shrugged. “Guess she wants my dad all to herself.”

Tempest leaned her head back against the rough wall and sighed. “What do you miss most about Texas?” Stella furrowed her brow.

“Besides the ranch? Zane and Blue.”

“Are those your pets?” Cherise asked.

“No, silly. Zane and Blue are my best friends – well, besides you guys,” Stella explained.

“You have boys for friends?” Tempest’s eyes had become almost as round as her glasses.

“You’re so funny!” Cherise giggled. “I’d love to have boys for friends – especially with names like Zane and Blue. Are they cute?”

Stella frowned. “They’re just friends. You are so boy crazy, Cherise Hillyer.”

Cherise just shrugged. “So?”

“Anyway, there’s no chance of me going home now. My stepmother has seen to that. She couldn’t wait to get me out of the house just as soon as she married my dad.”

“Just like a fairytale.” Cherise sighed dreamily.

“Believe me, there’s nothing fun about it.” Stella sat up and crossed her arms over her chest.

“At least you have parents.” Tempest’s voice was quiet. She fixed her gaze on her lap, blinking rapidly.

“We’re your family now, Temp, right Stella?” Cherise gave Tempest’s shoulder a quick squeeze before she shifted, straightening. “Enough gloom! Let’s talk about Casey Brinks. We got her good! She is such a snob. I can’t believe I used to be friends with her.”

“Yeah, until you started hanging around with us,” Stella stated. “We weren’t cool enough for the Casey Brinks fan club.” She shifted her position so she could peek out a small knothole in the wall of the shed. “Coast is still clear.”

“You’re way more fun, anyway,” Cherise declared. “This is so exciting. And kind of scary, too.” “Just wait till Ole Miss Crankypants gets a hold of us,” Stella said, her eyes twinkling.

“Now, that will be scary.”

“So what do we do now? Just wait to get caught?” Cherise asked.

“Pretty much,” Stella said with a shrug.

“Hey, I have an idea.” Tempest dug in her pocket. She pulled out several bright strands of colored embroidery floss. “I read a book on making friendship bracelets and I just got some new colors. We could make some. If you want to, that is.”

Stella nodded. “Why not?”

“Okay,” Cherise agreed. “So what do we do?”

“It’s kind of like weaving,” Tempest explained, beginning to work with the threads. “I read that once you tie it on, you can never take it off. It means you’ll be friends forever.”

“Neat! I want some of this color,” Cherise exclaimed, reaching for a few hot pink strands.

“We should make them for each other.” Stella took the pink strands from Cherise.

“Or, how about if we each work on all three?” Tempest suggested. “That way, we’ll be connected forever.”

“Good idea,” Stella agreed. “Friends forever.” “Friends forever,” the other two echoed.


Chapter 1

The cab wound its way along the tree-lined drive and slowed to a crawl on the circular driveway, finally coming to a halt in front of the mansion tucked well within the depths of Boston’s old moneyed district. The grand facade, with its pillars and over-sized windows, spoke of wealth. It was a nervous few minutes as Tempest surveyed the posh brick two story structure. It had been a few years since she’d been here to visit. Cherise’s parents weren’t much for entertaining strays from boarding school. At least, not strays without a pedigree.

“You plan on getting out?” The cab driver raised his brows questioningly as he made eye contact via the rearview mirror.

Tempest blinked back to reality. “Oh, yes.” She rummaged in her purse for the correct amount owing. Her own car was in the repair shop, so taking a cab was a necessity. “Um, here.” She shoved the bills into the cabby’s waiting palm. She couldn’t really afford such a generous tip, but it was just too embarrassing to have to wait while he made change. He was probably wondering what a person like her was doing in this neighborhood in the first place.

She stepped out of the cab, hauling her small suitcase behind her, and shut the car door with a decisive click. She waited until he had driven away before venturing up the wide steps to the menacing double doors, her small black case thumping up the steps behind her.

The bell barely had time to quit resonating when the door swung open.

“Tempest! You made it!” Cherise squealed, enveloping her long time friend in a warm embrace.

A rush of relief swept over Tempest’s body. What had she been so nervous about? This was Cherise, after all – the same blonde bombshell she’d grown up with at boarding school.

“Sure,” Tempest replied, disentangling herself. “The cabby knew exactly where to go.”

“Sorry someone didn’t pick you up at your aunt’s,” Cherise apologized as she led her further into the spacious foyer. The ceiling in the entrance rose overhead the full two stories. A large gilded mirror hung over an equally elaborate side table a few feet inside the doors. Polished white marble floors led off in several directions, including toward the grand staircase that curved upward. “The chauffeur had to take Mother to the country club and I just got back from my masseuse.”

“The cab was no problem,” Tempest assured.

“You look nice.” Cherise scanned Tempest from top to toes. “New haircut?”

“Um, yeah.” Tempest touched her reddish brown hair with tentative fingers. It was stylishly short, with just a hint of subtle highlights, and still salon fresh from that morning. It would never look this good again. She just wasn’t that good when it came to doing hair.

“Well, I like it,” Cherise stated with a nod. “Now you just need to get rid of the glasses and update your wardrobe and you’ll be a knockout.”

Tempest looked down at her outfit. Nondescript slacks and a button up blouse. She was tall and rather willowy and knew she could probably wear clothes that had a little more pizzazz, but… “I just like to be comfortable, that’s all.”

“Comfortable? With that body?” Cherise scoffed. She shook her head and expelled a dramatic sigh. “One of these days.”

“You’ve been warning me.” Tempest smiled.

“And I mean it,” Cherise affirmed. “One of these days you’re getting a makeover, lady, and there’s nothing you can do about it. I can’t believe we’ve been friends all these years and you’re still dressing like a librarian.”

“My bad.”

“In fact, just wait until you see what I’ve got planned for tonight!” Cherise exclaimed.

“Oh, oh. Now you’ve got me worried,” Tempest said, still smiling, but in truth feeling a bit uneasy. She wasn’t sure she was up for it.

“Don’t worry!” Cherise took Tempest’s arm and started walking toward the stairs. “It’s just some good old fashioned girl fun. It’ll be just like old times -” Cherise cut herself short as she stopped abruptly in her tracks. “Is that all you brought?” She gestured to the small rolling overnight bag that was following Tempest like a stray mutt. “You are staying, aren’t you?” Tempest stared at the shabby suitcase for a moment and blinked before looking back up at Cherise. “It’s just one night.”

“I thought you were staying in Boston for a few days.”

“I am,” Tempest replied. “But I have to stay with Aunt Rose for the rest of the weekend. I don’t visit her nearly as often as I should, and well, you know how it is. She is getting on and she’d be miffed if I came to town and didn’t stay with her.” There was a moment of silence as Cherise pouted. “But I’m here for tonight,” Tempest offered.

“It’s going to be so much fun!” Cherise reverted to her former animated excitement. “I’ve got all kinds of things planned, just like when we were girls at school. We’ll do facials and pedicures. Listen to loud music…”

“Your folks won’t mind?” Tempest asked. From what she remembered, they were rather preoccupied with themselves, anyway.

“Silly!” Cherise laughed. “This is an old fashioned sleepover, not some kind of orgy! What were you expecting?”

Tempest blinked and pushed her glasses up with her finger. Sometimes it was hard to gauge whether Cherise was serious or not. “I, um… nothing.”

Cherise giggled even more. “That’s what I love about you, Tempest. You’re so droll!”

Tempest smiled weakly, wondering what was funny. She never had been good at catching on to jokes and things. Oh well. At least Cherise hadn’t changed any either.

It was strange the way life worked. They had been so close while growing up – Cherise, Stella and herself – and had remained fast friends even into college. But now, over the last two or three years, they had begun to drift apart. Go their separate ways. Build their own lives apart from one another. Life was like that. People got busy. Stella had sought further education, Cherise was busy as a Boston socialite, and Tempest herself had finally launched into a career as a writer.

Well, “career” was stretching it just a bit. She was writing for a small newspaper about an hour’s drive from Boston. It was satisfactory. She was doing what she enjoyed – writing. But sometimes it was difficult. There was only so much that could be said about the local chapter of the dog society.

Tempest started up the steps behind Cherise, the suitcase bumping behind her. Cherise stopped and turned around, frowning. “Goodness! I was so excited about seeing you I forgot to call Crosbie. Just leave your case there and he’ll bring it up later.”

“It’s not that heavy.” Tempest retracted the pull handle, and picked it up by the regular one. “I can do it.”

Cherise considered this for a moment, as if the thought had never occurred to her. Then she shrugged. “At least let me take it for you.” She snatched the small bag and started up the stairs again. “I can hardly wait to tell you everything that’s been happening.” T

empest watched as Cherise skipped up the steps in front of her, her mini-skirt bouncing against her rounded backside with each step. Tempest’s lips curved upward slightly. Cherise might come across as shallow, but underneath the rich girl exterior was a truly loyal friend.


Tempest glanced around Cherise’s bedroom. It looked much as she remembered. Lots of evidence of the spoiled little rich girl. Pictures, frills, ribbons and lace… everything spoke of a pampered princess who had never quite grown up. “When are you expecting Stella?”

“About seven.” Cherise deposited the suitcase near the door and then flopped down on the bed. “Something about shipping some boxes back home to Texas.”

“Moving can be a lot of work,” Tempest offered.

“I guess. Anyway, she should be here in time for dinner.” Cherise rolled onto her stomach.

“Imagine! Stella with a Master’s degree! She’s probably the smartest person I know. Present company excluded, of course.”

“Of course.” Tempest pulled out a pink satin covered chair that had been tucked under Cherise’s dressing table which was littered with makeup and jewelry.

“What do you do with a degree in ‘Environmental Studies,’ anyway?” Cherise asked.

“I’m not sure exactly. Field work? Environmental testing?”

Cherise sat up and patted the bed. “Come sit here! You need to tell me everything that’s been going on since last time I saw you.”

Tempest let out a small laugh, but got up and moved to perch on the edge of the bed. “That was only yesterday at Stella’s graduation.”

“I know, but we didn’t get much time to talk. It seems like ages since we had any girl time together.” Cherise sighed dramatically. “I just don’t know how I ever got to be friends with you two. You’re both just so smart! What in the world did you ever see in a bimbo like me?”

“You’re not a bimbo,” Tempest defended. “You’re smart, too. About lots of things.”

Cherise laughed, that flippant tinkling sound that Tempest had come to know so well. “There you go, always trying to make people feel good about themselves. At least that’s one thing about Stella. She’s honest.”

“Well, I just meant -”

“Forget it.” Cherise waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t mind, you know. Being a bimbo.”

“You shouldn’t call yourself that,” Tempest chided, her voice soft.

“Why not? I don’t mean it in a bad way. Actually, playing the part has its advantages.” Cherise raised a brow and smiled. “Guys seem to go for it.”

“And you’ve never had trouble in that department,” Tempest commented wryly.

“My point exactly,” Cherise replied, flipping her blonde tresses. She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Just wait until I tell you about Roberto.”

“Roberto?” Another in a long string of boyfriends, no doubt.

“He is an absolute dream!” Cherise flopped back onto the bed and flung her arms above her head. “He’s Italian, and you know what they say about Italian lovers.”

“Um, right.” Tempest focused on the bedspread’s stitching, tracing it with her index finger.

“It’s all true.” Cherise sighed. There was a moment of awkward silence until she sat up abruptly. “So, anyone new in your life?”

“Nope,” Tempest replied.

“Still pining for what’s his name?”

“Ron,” Tempest supplied curtly. “His name is Ron, and no I am not pining. We only dated for a couple of months and it was a perfectly logical decision on both our parts. Our paths were going in different directions. It was for the best that we end it before things got too serious.”

“Oh please!” Cherise groaned and rolled her eyes. “Our paths? That sounds like a cop out if ever I heard one. Admit it. He was just running scared.”

“Well -”

Cherise cut her off. “Seriously. I thought he was supposed to be a Christian or something. How dare he string my best friend such a line?”

“I’m a Christian, too,” Tempest defended. “He’s going into the mission field. A long distance relationship is just too hard. It makes sense.”

“Phooey on that. If it’s right, it doesn’t matter where in the world you go.” Cherise pinned Tempest with her eyes. “If you want to know what I think, Ron is probably secretly gay or something. Why else would he dump you like that?”

“Cherise!” Tempest shot back. “That’s not true.”

Cherise raised a brow. “How do you know? Ever sleep with him?”

“Of course not. I don’t believe in sex before marriage and – and neither does he.” Tempest blinked rapidly and pushed her glasses up. It was mostly true.

“Oh right. Something I never did understand.” Cherise flopped down on her back again. “I’m glad you’re the one who got religion and not me. I couldn’t handle it.”

“You might be surprised.” Tempest shrugged.

Cherise shook her head. “No way. I mean, I’m happy if you are, but don’t expect me to change. And as for Ron, I say good riddance. There are plenty of other fish in the sea.”

Cherise giggled. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll fall for some hotty and change your mind about the celibacy thing.”

“I doubt it.” Since becoming a Christian eighteen months ago, Tempest had given up on casual relationships. Not that she’d been licentious or anything before her conversion, but now she had a legitimate excuse for avoiding men. She’d only had sex that one time in college and well, she’d rather forget all about that. It was possibly the most embarrassing moment of her life.

“It could happen.”

Tempest frowned and looked over at Cherise. “What?”

“It could happen,” Cherise repeated. “You falling for some hot guy and give up on becoming a nun.”

“I’m not becoming a nun. I’m not Catholic.”

“Whatever. You know what I mean.”

Of course she did. Cherise had a one track mind. Tempest straightened her spine. “When the right person comes along – the person God wants for me – I will be more than happy to engage in… well, you know. Once I’m married, of course.”

“But how will you know if you’re even compatible?” Cherise asked. “You know… in that way?” “Is that all you care about?” Tempest stood up and crossed back to the chair. Lord, give me patience with Cherise. She doesn’t know any better. She took a deep breath before turning around. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. Tell me more about Roberto instead.”

The hurt look in Cherise’s eyes melted almost instantly. “Roberto,” she repeated the name softly, like a mantra. “He is so perfect. Charming, good looking, great build and well, I already mentioned that other part.” She sighed. “I would literally follow him to the ends of the earth.”

“That good, huh?”

“In every way. Of course, my parents don’t see it that way. They are always so out of touch. I think they expect me to marry someone from their pre-approved lineup.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know. Old family friends. Someone with connections. The right bloodlines and all that. But I’m not having any part of it.”

“Good. It’s your life.”

“You’re not going to lecture me?”

“Why would I do that?” Tempest asked.

Cherise shrugged. “I don’t know. The religion thing? I know you don’t approve of my choices.”

“Have I ever lectured you?” Tempest blinked, tamping down the hurt that had risen in her breast. It was a topic that struck a nerve. Sometimes she felt like a bad Christian for not being more enthusiastic about witnessing to her friends. True, she’d shared her faith, but the last thing she wanted was to alienate them, so she avoided leading conversations, opting for the ‘friendship evangelism’ model instead.

“Well, no,” Cherise admitted. She looked down at the bedspread and traced some stitching. She looked up again abruptly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “But sometimes I feel it. Like you’re such a good person and I’m, well… not. One of these days you’re going to just jump ship and leave me to my own devices.”

“Cherise!” Tempest bolted from the chair and bent to envelop her friend around the shoulders. “I’ll never abandon you. You or Stella! You know that. Friends forever, right?” Cherise sat up and they hugged properly. “Friends forever.” When they pulled apart, Cherise examined Tempest closely. “But do think I’m crazy? Falling so hard for Roberto, I mean?” “Well… How would I know? I’ve never met him.” Tempest smiled.

“Exactly!” Cherise gave Tempest another big squeeze. “I’m so glad the two of you agreed to come over for one last girl’s night before we go our separate ways. I’m going to miss you so much.”

“You make it sound like we might not see each other again. I mean, I’m not that far from Boston.”

“Oh, I know. But who knows where Stella might end up? I know she’s planning to go back to Texas for awhile, but after that, who knows?”

“True.” Tempest wished she could add a ‘who knows’ to her own future. Right now it seemed pretty stable. And pretty dull. But there were bills to pay… ”

Anyway, let’s go see what Cook is making for dinner tonight,” Cherise suggested, rolling off the bed.

Tempest followed. It was hard to mull over life’s bigger issues with Cherise around.


About the Author

Tracy Krauss is a multi-published novelist, playwright, and artist with several award winning and best selling novels, stage plays, devotionals and children’s books in print. Her work strikes a chord with those looking for thought provoking faith based fiction laced with romance, suspense and humor – no sugar added. She holds a B.Ed from the U of S and has lived in many remote and interesting places in Canada’s far north. She and her husband currently reside in beautiful BC where she continues to pursue all of her creative interests. website: http://tracykrauss.com – fiction on the edge without crossing the line –

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Neighbors by Tracy Krauss

Neighbors Vol 1

About the Book

NEIGHBORS – Volume 1 – New in the Neighborhood
Lester Tibbett has to leave his farm in Southern Alberta for the big city. It means starting over in an unfamiliar environment – a heavy burden for the guardian of a teenage sister full of angst. The apartment complex to which they relocate is a far cry from their spacious farmhouse and offers little anonymity for a man used to doing things his own way. During the process, he pushes his own loneliness aside in favor of looking after his sister. As Lester struggles to find a church that will meet both their spiritual needs, he quickly learns that neighbors come in many forms, some of them quite meddlesome. Still, he is happy to accept help from an overtly friendly neighbor named Jed who also happens to work for the same construction company. The two soon become friends, despite Jed’s habit of trying to set Lester up with every available single female, and end up frequenting a local pub where Lester is surprised to discover an ‘old school’ mechanical bull just waiting to be ridden. The former rodeo cowboy in him rises up, but not before he meets a mysterious woman who is out of his reach.



Late summer. The air was warm, but not oppressive. A slight breeze sent a shiver through the poplar trees lining the boulevard. Light and shadow danced together on the sidewalk as the sun’s rays filtered down through the leaves. The ‘whish’ of passing traffic a few streets over underscored the relative silence on the quiet street, marked only by the melodic offerings of a songbird high up in the trees.

Honk! Honk! “Hey! You’re blocking the driveway! Get that rust bucket outta the way!”

The tranquility was shattered. The impatient driver of the new BMW laid on the horn and craned his head out the window before jamming it into gear and backing up with a screech. Cranking the wheel, he swung past the offending blue pickup and U-haul trailer, coming dangerously close to clipping the front fender of the truck. The parting expletive and accompanying hand signal was not lost on the occupants of the rig.

“What’s your rush?” Lester leaned out the window of the dusty truck and shook his fist at the retreating silver sports coupe. With a disgusted grunt he pulled his head back into the cab.

“We are blocking the street,” Patsi noted, craning her neck around to watch the now miniscule BMW. “I mean, couldn’t we pull around closer to the front doors or something?” She surveyed her brother for a moment and then flopped back against the rather unforgiving bench seat with a sigh. “I forgot. You have everything under control.”

Lester Ray Tibbett gave his young sister a withering look. “As a matter of fact, I do. No room to turn around. I don’t know how they expect folks to move in and out of these blasted apartments with no room to maneuver a trailer.”

The apartment block to which the brother and sister were relocating was a square, four-story structure situated on a narrow tree lined street in an older section of Calgary – if you could call any part of the city ‘old’. The prairie city had boomed to such a degree in recent years that it was a miracle they’d found an apartment at all.

Lester inched the vehicle back a few more millimeters then pressed his foot against the brake. He put the truck in park while simultaneously engaging the emergency brake. He slammed out of the vehicle, keys in hand, leaving the tinny reverberations of the door to echo in his sister’s ears. “Come on. We haven’t got all day.” With a sigh, she followed suit.

Lester blocked up the U-haul’s tires and unlocked the safety latch on the back doors. With a creak, he swung the doors wide, revealing the contents within. Placing his hands on hips, he surveyed the stacks of boxes and furniture. He took off his ball cap and wiped his brow with the back of his checkered sleeve. His closely cropped brown hair was stuck to his head in a flattened ring where the ball cap had been, curling up at odd angles everywhere else. A day’s growth of stubble darkened his jaw line until it merged with well-defined sideburns.

Patsi sidled up to her brother and groaned. “This is going to take forever.”

“No complaining. The longer we stand around the longer it’ll take.”

Patsi let out another dramatic sigh, but extended her arms to receive the first box. Lester piled two more on top before nodding his head for her to get a move on. He watched her for a few seconds as she strode to the building’s entrance. Her blonde braid swung in time to her steps, mimicking the sway of her hips in the too-short jean shorts she insisted on wearing that day. She’d grown up right before his eyes, taking on a womanly shape that had him worried. His role as her guardian was sure to get more complicated once she started college. She was a good kid. Contentious as any teenage girl, but a hard worker. Both he and his sister were used to manual labor. Despite her petite figure and pretty face, she was tough as nails from doing chores and could hold her own.

Lester hoisted his own set of boxes and followed his sister. Several trips later they were both puffing from exertion. Lester had worked on the farm all his life and had the muscles to prove it, but so many trips up and down two flights of stairs was taking its toll.

“I need to take a break.” Patsi bent over, hands on her thighs as she tried to catch her breath. “Any water in the truck?” Tendrils of hair were coming loose, framing her face with heat induced curls. The siblings had the same naturally curly hair, but Patsi’s was a shade lighter than his. ‘Dirty blonde’ she called it while Lester’s was a light brown. He, of course, kept his cropped short, but Patsi insisted on keeping hers long and tried to straighten it each day. It was a chore that made no sense to him, but girls would be girls.

“I think there’s some in the cab.” Lester strode to the driver’s side of the truck and opened the door with a jerk. He rummaged around behind the seat until he came up with two bottles of water. He tossed one to Patsi on his way around the vehicle and she caught it with the quickness of an infielder.

“It’s warm,” she protested.

“Beggars can’t be choosers.” Lester downed the whole thing then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before crushing the bottle in his fist and tossing it into the box of his truck among the other contents. “Okay, let’s get this trunk out of here next.” Lester jumped into the half empty U-haul trailer and tugged a large trunk toward the doors.

“It’s too heavy for me.” Patsi recapped her water and set it on the bumper of the trailer. She stood up and stretched.

Lester shot her a frown. “Come on Princess. It’s not going to move itself, and I don’t see anybody else around, do you?”

Patsi sighed heavily and moved to take her place at the other end of the trunk. Lester took a hold of one of the corners and lifted, trying to shimmy the heavy burden so that Patsi could better grasp it by the handles. Suddenly the trunk slipped, jamming his finger between it and the open doorway of the trailer. With a yelp he snatched his finger away and squeezed it with his other hand. A few choice words escaped.

“I told you it was too heavy.” Patsi cocked her head to one side in an ‘I told you so’ manner and raised her brows.

“Need a hand?”

Lester looked up sharply. A man was standing on his third floor balcony, overlooking the operation. He was tall and broad and was wearing a worn T-shirt and a dirty ball cap similar to the one Lester had on.

“Um… yeah. That would be great,” Lester called back.

“Be right down.” The man waved and disappeared through his sliding glass doors.

“My lucky day.” Patsi beamed up at her brother. “Your new friend can take over from here.”

“There’s still plenty of small stuff,” Lester said.

Patsi rolled her eyes. “I was joking.”

Lester sighed. Sometimes his sister acted so immature. Okay, she was only seventeen, but she needed to start acting like more grown up. He wasn’t much older when he’d been thrown into more responsibility than most guys his age had ever dreamed of.


Lester glanced back up at the building. Two small boys were watching from their own balcony two stories up. One had chocolate brown skin, while the other had straight black hair and an olive complexion. He just waved. Those little kids probably had nothing better to do, so let them watch if they wanted. He noticed the curtains moving in another window on the second floor. It was hard to remain anonymous in a place like this. Where everyone was all squished together like sardines in a can. Oh well. It was the best he could do.

The helpful neighbor was approaching so Lester turned his attention back to the matter at hand. “Thanks again for offering to help. Name’s Lester Ray Tibbett.” Lester stretched out his hand.

“Jed Malloy.” Jed had a firm grip and his hand almost dwarfed Lester’s.

“Good to meet you. Me and my sister are just moving in,” Lester said.

Patsi rolled her eyes. “Obviously. Duh.”

Lester pointed a thumb back at Patsi. “My sister Patsi Mae.”

“Just Pat,” Patsi mumbled, looking down.

Jed smiled. “Pleased to meet ya. I got a couple of sisters of my own back ‘ome. You’re mighty lucky to get the place. Ol’ Tucker was ‘ardly even cold when the place was advertised. A real ‘ousing shortage these days.”

“You from out east?” Lester asked. Jed’s short clipped words, extended ‘r’ and lack of ‘h’ quickly betrayed his background.

“Yeah. Newfoundland.”

Lester nodded. “The accent kind of gives you away.”

Jed laughed. “I ain’t the one with the accent. I keeps tellin’ you westerners, but you’s don’t listen too well.” They all laughed. “Well, we’d better get you moved in, neighbor.” He clapped Lester soundly on the back and then went straight for the trunk. “Where’s this beast going?”

With a grunt the two men hoisted the heavy trunk and started lumbering for the entrance.

Jed was taller than Lester by several inches and at six feet Lester wasn’t exactly short. Jed also looked to be broader and very muscular. Lester’s own muscles were hardened by hard work and fine-tuned by riding broncos – one of his hobbies, but he wouldn’t want to meet the other man in a fight. He just might lose.

The threesome had the remainder of the truck and trailer unloaded and into the apartment within half an hour.

“Thanks man,” Lester puffed, winded from the last trek up the stairs with a particularly heavy chest of drawers. “I don’t know how I would have managed with only Patsi for help.”

“Hey, I’m no sissy,” Patsi protested. “I could have managed.”

Lester shook his head and snorted his doubts.

“I could have! Mostly…”

“No problem. That’s what neighbors are for. I was glad to ‘elp. I could use a cold one, though. As a thank you.” Jed winked. He pulled off his ball cap to reveal a shock of dark hair that stood out at odd angles.

“Sorry,” Lester apologized. “We haven’t got anything to offer just yet. We could make coffee if we could find the coffee maker.”

“Why don’t you come over to my place?” Jed offered. “My fridge is always stocked with the essentials. Like beer, that is.”

“Sounds good to me. I should move that rig out of the way first, though. I’ll just be a minute.”

“Sure. I’ll just ‘elp your sister move some of these boxes around.”

Lester left Patsi and Jed to rearrange the boxes into their respective rooms while he moved the truck and trailer to a better location down the street. He returned in a few minutes to find them already waiting in the hall.

“A beer sounds pretty good about now,” Lester said. “Got anything for my sister?”

Patsi folded her arms and stuck her chin out. “I’m not a baby. I can have a beer if I want.”

Lester just raised a brow. “Only if I say so.”

“It’s not like I haven’t had a beer before. Besides, I’ll be legal in four months.”

“Nineteen?” Jed asked.

Patsi shook her head. “Eighteen.”

“Right. Legal drinking age is eighteen in Alberta.” Jed shook his head. “No wonder the kids in the bar are looking younger and younger these days.”

Lester and Patsi followed Jed down the hall to his apartment, three doors down from their own. It was a typical bachelor’s pad – mismatched furniture arranged for optimal television viewing with dirty dishes and left over food littering every available surface.

“Excuse the mess,” Jed apologized, going straight for the refrigerator and collecting three long necked bottles of beer. The first bottle let out a hiss as he twisted the top off. He handed it to Patsi and winked. “Ladies first.”

“Thanks.” Patsi looked pointedly at her brother and took a sip.

“Guess I can’t say no now that you’ve put your germs on it,” Lester said with a slight grin. “But don’t get any ideas.”

Jed distributed the remaining beer. “Have a seat.” He did a wide sweep of the room with his free arm. Patsi and Lester found seats on the sofa and Jed stretched out in the armchair. “So? What brings you to the city?”

“Work,” Lester replied. “That and my sister going to college.”

“His idea, not mine,” Patsi said with a sullen edge to her voice. She sipped tentatively from her bottle of beer.

“Education is a good thing,” Jed said. “Something that can never be taken away. So my Ma says. Too bad I didn’t listen.” He grinned. “You seem kinda young for college, though.” He squinted at Patsi.

“December baby,” Lester explained. “Moving here should help her adjust.”

“You talk like I’m not even here,” Patsi protested. “Besides, I would have been just fine.” As if to prove it she took a long drink of her beer. Suddenly she sputtered, choking as it went down the wrong way. Her diaphragm jerked as she tried to control the coughing and she glared at Lester, as if it was his fault she was choking.

Jed pointed with his free hand. “Bathroom’s that way, if you want.”

Patsi got up from the couch without looking at either man and headed down the narrow hall. Lester’s eyes followed her.

“Where’d you say you come from again?” Jed took a long swing of his beer.

“Farmed near Coulee Creek,” Lester said.

Jed nodded. “I know it. That’s nice country.”

“It’s home. But there have been a few bad years. Drought. Poor grain prices. It costs about as much to put the crop in as any profits you might get. I figured I’d rent the land out for a bit. Let somebody else have all the headaches and just collect a paycheck for a change.”

Jed took another drink. “You gotta do what you gotta do. I came all the way across the country, so I definitely know.”

“How long have you been here?” Lester asked.

Jed cocked his head to one side. “Let’s see… Four years now? Something like that. Long enough that I ‘ate to give up my job and move back ‘ome. Besides, ‘alf of Newfoundland is out west so’s its not so bad. One of my brothers is coming out soon, too, or so ‘e says.”

“That’s nice. Family is important.”

Jed eyed Lester over the top of his bottle. “So it’s just you and your sister?”

“Since our folks died, yes. Sometimes I feel more like her father than her brother.”

“How long your folks been gone?” Jed asked.

“Nine years. She was only nine, so she’s spent half her life without them.”

“And there was no other family to take care of ‘er?”

“I don’t believe in shirking my duties,” Lester responded quietly. “We had an old aunt in Saskatoon, but it was best for her to stay put in her own home. That’s what my folks would have wanted.”

“You must a been pretty young yourself.”


Jed let out a soft whistle. “Pretty young to have to take on that kind of responsibility. Took over the farm, too?”

Lester nodded. “I was planning on working along side my folks anyway. It just happened sooner than expected.”

“I see.”

“It was a good life,” Lester said. “On the farm, I mean. Good place to raise a kid.”

“Keeps ‘em out of trouble, I suppose,” Jed agreed. “You might ‘ave your ‘ands full ‘ere.” He grinned.

“Not if I can help it.”

“I know a thing or two about teenage girls. I’ve got sisters of my own and when they put their mind to somethin’ they don’t give in easy. I’d watch ‘er if I were you.”

“I intend to.” Lester let out a sigh – one far too deep for a casual first meeting. “It’s one thing I plan on doing right.”

“Sounds like you’re pretty ‘ard on yourself.”

Lester sat up straighter and tried for a smile. Trust a Newfie to skip small talk and go straight to personal. “So, what do you do for a living?”

“Construction. I know there’s more money in the oil patch, but I don’t care much for camp life. We’re working on some big ‘igh rise building downtown.”

“You don’t say. I’m starting up with a construction outfit myself. What’s the name of yours?”

“Titan,” Jed said.

Lester raised his brows. “Really? That’s who hired me. My cousin put in a good word for me.”

“Always pays to know the right people.” Jed finished his beer and set the bottle on the side table. “Small world, ain’t it?”

“True.” Lester also downed the rest of his beer just as Patsi re-emerged. “Ready to go, Sis?” He stood and stretched.

She glanced at the full bottle of beer sitting where she’d left it. “I’m not done my beer.”

Lester checked his watch. “I gotta get that trailer back before closing.”

Jed winked at Patsi. “You can ‘ave a rain-check sometime.”

“Thanks again for the help, neighbor,” Lester said.

“Anytime. Whenever you two need anything, just ‘oller.”



Tracy Krauss Author photo

 About the Author

Tracy Krauss is a multi-published author, artist, and playwright. She has a Bachelor’s degree from the University of Saskatchewan and teaches secondary school Art, Drama and English – all things she is passionate about. She and her husband have lived in five provinces and territories including many remote and unique places in Canada’s far north. They have four grown children and now reside in beautiful Tumbler Ridge, BC where she continues to pursue all of her creative interests. She has several romantic suspense novels and stage plays in print. For more information visit her website.


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Wind Over Marshdale by Tracy Krauss

Tracy Krauss is launching her book WIND OVER MARSHDALE on Tuesday, Oct. 16. Full of intrigue, romance, and plenty of surprises, see what’s hiding just beneath the surface in this seemingly peaceful town. You can help her achieve ‘best seller’ status by purchasing the book at amazon.com TODAY – and receive all kinds of cool free gifts while you’re at it!
Here’s how:
1. Go to the Landing Page on Tracy’s website
2. Buy the book at amazon.
3. Go back to the Landing Page and fill in the form with your name, email and purchase number.
It’s that easy! You’ll be directed to your free gifts and all you have to do is choose which ones you want.

About the book:

Marshdale. Just a small farming community where nothing special happens.  A perfect place to start over… or get lost. There is definitely more to this prairie town than meets the eye. Once the meeting place of aboriginal tribes for miles around, some say the land itself was cursed because of the people’s sin. But its history goes farther back than even indigenous oral history can trace and there is still a direct descendant who has been handed the truth, like it or not. Exactly what ties does the land have to the medicine of the ancients? Is it cursed, or is it all superstition?
Wind Over Marshdale is the story of the struggles within a small prairie town when hidden evil and ancient medicine resurface. Caught in the crossfire, new teacher Rachel Bosworth finds herself in love with two men at once. First, there is Thomas Lone Wolf, a Cree man whose blood lines run back to the days of ancient medicine but who has chosen to live as a Christian and faces prejudice from every side as he tries to expose the truth. Then there is Con McKinley, local farmer who has to face some demons of his own. Add to the mix a wayward minister seeking anonymity in the obscurity of the town; eccentric twin sisters – one heavily involved in the occult and the other a fundamentalist zealot; and a host of other ‘characters’ whose lives weave together unexpectedly for the final climax. This suspenseful story is one of human frailty – prejudice, cowardice, jealousy, and greed – magnified by powerful spiritual forces that have remained hidden for centuries, only to be broken in triumph by grace.

What others are saying:

Tracy Krauss has a deep talent. I am looking forward to more from her.
– Tom Blubaugh, Author of Night of the Cossack
Tracy Krauss typifies all that is good in modern Christian authorship. She is consistently there for her readers and elevates her every effort.
– Joyce Godwin Grubbs, Author From the Grassroots
Tracy’s characters are raw and real; her plots edgy and electric.
 – Lisa Lickel, award winning author of Meander Scar,  A Summer in Oakville, The Map Quilt and other inspirational novels.
There is plenty of intrigue and mystery to keep any reader’s attention, but for lovers of romance, this one will make your heart pound.
– Michelle Sutton, reviewer and author of more than a dozen inspirational novels

Author bio:

Tracy Krauss is a high school teacher by profession, and a prolific author, artist, playwright and director by choice. She received her Bachelor’s degree from the University of Saskatchewan and has gone on to teach Art, Drama and English – all the things she is passionate about. After raising four children, she and her husband now reside in beautiful Tumbler Ridge, BC where she continues to pursue all of her creative interests.


Here’s just a sampling of the FREE e-gifts from generous supporters:
–    a free copy of  25 Years In the Rearview Mirror – compiled and edited by Stacy Juba; Shoot the Wounded by Lynn Dove; Live Without Stress by Shelley Hitz; Alternative Witness by Pauline Creeden; and Writing Your Family Legacy and Reflections of the Heart, both by Linda Weaver Clarke
– a free first chapters of such best-selling books as From Spice to Eternity by Yvonne Wright; Angels of Humility by Jackie MacGirvin; and Silence by Barbara Derksen
– beautiful downloadable greeting cards by Brenda Hendricks; and poetry posters by Violet Nesdoly
– the ‘Fit Test’ by author and trainer Kimberley Payne; plus a chance to win an ‘amazon’ gift card courtesy of Ruth Hill
–          And much more!
All if you buy your copy of WIND OVER MARSHDALE  at amazon.com on Oct 16! All links will be operational on the ‘Landing Page’
DISCLAIMER: This ‘Best Seller book launch’ has been coordinated with the help of the ‘John 3:16 Marketing Network’ and many other generous supporters. The free gifts are deliverable electronically over the internet or by email by individual authors and supporters. They are not in any way associated with, nor deliverable by, amazon.com

And the Beat Goes On by Tracy Krauss

An archeological team makes an unprecedented discovery while working on site in a remote part of Zimbabwe, Africa – Pterodactyl and human remains found together. Evidence leads back to an ancient race of super humans that pre-date legendary Noah’s flood – the Nephilim, a race of people born of the union between humans and ‘gods’ that led to the cataclysmic destruction of the early world.

And the Beat Goes On is the story of Dr. Mark Graham, world renowned archeologist, who is now faced with the dilemma of presenting these controversial findings to the world. Not only does the discovery rock Mark’s own beliefs about the origins of the universe, but he must grapple with his own credibility as a scientist. Is he willing to sacrifice it all in order to present the truth? And just how far will his opposition go to keep him from doing so? He soon finds himself in a dangerous web of cover up and conspiracy that leads to arrest, kidnapping, and ultimately murder.

Mark’s journey of discovery takes him from Africa to North America and back again. During his search he unexpectedly discovers more about himself than he had bargained for. He is introduced to his biological mother, the woman who abandoned him as an infant, and the siblings he had never met. He also falls unexpectedly in love with the girl next door. During it all, he learns about betrayal and trust and discovers who his true friends really are.

And the Beat Goes On is a sequel to another novel, Play It Again, the story of Mark’s parents, Russ and Deanie Graham. However, the novel stands quite firmly on its own two feet.

Tracy Krauss is a high school teacher by profession, and a prolific author, artist, playwright and director by choice. She received her Bachelor’s degree from the University of Saskatchewan and has gone on to teach Art, Drama and English – all the things she is passionate about. After raising four children, she and her husband now reside in beautiful Tumbler Ridge, BC where she continues to pursue all of her creative interests.

Play it Again by Tracy Krauss

Tracy Krauss, author of ‘edgy inspirational fiction’, is launching her book  PLAY IT AGAIN today.

You can help her achieve ‘best seller’ status by purchasing the book at amazon.com TODAY – and receive all kinds of cool free gifts while you’re at it!
Here’s how:
1. Go to the Landing Page on Tracy’s Website
2. Buy the book at amazon.
3. Go back to the Landing Page and fill in the form with your name, email and purchase number
It’s that easy! You’ll be directed to your free gifts and all you have to do is choose which ones you want. 
About the book:
An unlikely duo meet in Play It Again, a story of love, life and faith. Sparks fly when an ex-rock and roll junkie and a stuffy accountant rendezvous at a local resort, but neither are prepared for the emotional entanglements, family complications, and threat from the past that unexpectedly resurfaces. Set in the 1980s, this story brings two opposing forces together in a clash of romance and danger, while its musical undertones highlight the theme that God can turn anything into beautiful music. Play It Again is the much anticipated prequel to Tracy’s debut novel And the Beat Goes On. Find out where Mark Graham’s journey began in this, the story of his parents.

What others are saying about PLAY IT AGAIN:
“This is one of the best contemporary novels I’ve read all year. . . Not only was it well-written, but it was edgy in that the story dared to be honest. . . I can see this touching a lot of people who have thought about God but have been afraid to move forward.”
–  Michelle Sutton, author of more than a dozen inspirational novels

“This book is hot property, and grabs your interest from page one.”
–   Yvonne Pat Wright, author of From Spice to Eternity

Author bio:
Tracy Krauss is a high school teacher by profession, and a prolific author, artist, playwright and director by choice. She received her Bachelor’s degree from the University of Saskatchewan and has gone on to teach Art, Drama and English – all the things she is passionate about. After raising four children, she and her husband now reside in beautiful Tumbler Ridge, BC where she continues to pursue all of her creative interests. Her first two books were both nominated for the ‘Indie Excellence Book Awards’ for religious fiction in 2011.

Here’s just a sampling of the FREE e-gifts from generous supporters:

–          An e-copy of Lisa Lickel’s award winning novel Meander Scar
–          Sample chapters from The Promise of Deer Run by Elaine Cooper, Warring Spirits by April Gardner, and The Right Person by Stacy Padula
–          Beautiful downloadable art cards by author and artist Brenda Hendricks
–          A free subscription to ‘PixApple’
–          You copy of Frazzled No More by Shelley Hitz
–          A cool ‘Daily Scheduler’ developed by author Janalyn Voigt
–          And much more!
All if you buy your copy of PLAY IT AGAIN at amazon.com today!  All links will be operational on the ‘Landing Page’ at www.tracykrauss.com/ 

DISCLAIMER: This ‘Best Seller book launch’ has been coordinated with the help of the ‘John 3:16 Marketing Network’ and many other generous supporters. The free gifts are deliverable electronically over the internet or by email by individual authors and supporters. They are not in any way associated with, nor deliverable by, amazon.com 

My Mother The Man Eater By Tracy Krauss

Tracy Krauss, author of ‘edgy inspirational’ fiction, is launching her book MY MOTHER THE MAN-EATER on Feb. 24 at amazon.com.  You can help Tracy achieve ‘best seller’ status by purchasing the book at amazon.com TODAY!


About the book:


Loaded with humor, action, intrigue and romance, My Mother the Man- Eater is the story of a woman whose search for meaning in life finds an unexpected outlet. Joleen Allen is on the hunt for a man. Unfortunately, every time the mother of five meets one, he falls for one of her daughters instead! At forty-four, Joleen has lived a tough life. She became a mother at 16, and her five daughters are now grown. Her ex-husband, Harold, is out of prison and back in the picture, looking for revenge. He’ll stop at nothing – even murder – to ruin Joleen’s reputation as well as her relationship with their daughters. My Mother the Man-Eater makes for some truly tempting and redemptive reading.


About the Author:


Tracy Krauss is a prolific author, playwright, director and artist. Originally from a small prairie town, she now resides in Tumbler Ridge, BC, known for its scenic mountain vistas and many waterfalls. She received her Bachelor’s Degree from the University of Saskatchewan in Saskatoon and currently teaches high school Art, Drama and English. .




Buy MY MOTHER THE MAN-EATER on February 24 and receive loads of FREE e-gifts from these generous supporters:


Sample chapters, short stories, children’s books, and magazines from acclaimed, best selling and debut Christian authors, such as April Gardner, Shawna Williams, Shellie Neumeier, Sana Edoja, Delia Latham, Ray Lincoln,  Stacy Padula, Elaine Cooper, Stacy Juba, Lisa Lickel, Joann Durgin … and more!


Plus – free manuscript critiques, manuscript editing, and marketing and promotional tips from journalists, editors, authors and speakers, Lorilyn Roberts, Linda Yezak and Bonnie Way.


And – beautiful downloadable art cards courtesy of artist and author Brenda Hendricks.



All if you buy your copy of MY MOTHER THE MAN-EATER at amazon.com on Feb. 24!  These free gifts are valid on Feb. 24 only. All the links will be operational on the ‘Book Launch’ site at www.tracykrauss.com/  Click HERE for more details  link: http://mytinyurl.com/d3srfsw1f1/  


DISCLAIMER: This Best Seller book launch has been coordinated with the help of the ‘John 3:16 Marketing Network’ and many other generous supporters. The free gifts are deliverable electronically over the internet or by email by individual authors and supporters. They are not in any way associated with, nor deliverable by, amazon.com