On December 8th, I’ll be at Fort Reno signing copies of The Major’s Daughter, plus Serving Up Love and other titles. The Fort Reno grounds will be open and ready for visitors, including the house that Major Adams, Louisa and Caroline would’ve lived in. This home isn’t usually open to the public, but on that Sunday from 2:15 to 4:00, it will be decorated with scenes from the Fort Reno books. You might just get a glimpse of one of the characters while you are enjoying refreshments.

But that’s not all that’s going on at the fort. You can watch reenactors participate in the fort’s Christmas Firing of the Guns at 2:00 and visit with Santa in the chapel. There’ll be a flyer for a self-guided tour of the rest of the grounds, highlighting locations mentioned in my books. On top of that, the Historic Fort Reno Visitor Center and the U. S. Cavalry Association Museum will be open from noon until 4:00. As a special treat, admission to the fort and the museums is free.

Please come out and see this site that has grown to mean so much to me, and has always meant much to Oklahoma’s history.

The post Let’s Welcome The Major’s Daughter to the Fort appeared first on Author Regina Jennings.

This week the Little Free Library movement is celebrating 10 years. To join in the fun, I visited our Little Free Library and talked to Susie about what led her (and Tim) to build this beauty.

How did you come across the idea of building a little library for your neighborhood?

Our daughter Shera in Naperville, Illinois, called and asked her dad to build her one. When I checked into the idea, I decided I wanted one for our neighborhood, too. Tim found the plans online and made two, so this one in Oklahoma has a twin in my daughter’s neighborhood in Illinois.

Has reading always been important to you?

Definitely. My mother was a school librarian, and I was an elementary school teacher for over 20 years. We raised our kids in Central Illinois, and three of four of them presented book reports on the show Reading Rainbow. Reading together as a family has meant a lot to me.

What has been the benefit of the Little Free Library?

I get such joy from watching the kids with a sack on their bicycle handles come up and switch out books. It’s also fun to see the books that appear in there and think about which neighbor shared them. It’s very community building.

Is there any special customization on this Little Free Library?

Yes! Tim put a hook on the post so browsers have a place to hook their dog leashes while they make their choice.

Favorite book?

Love Does by Bob Goff.

Best piece of reading advice?

Read to your kids, even when they get older. We have wonderful family memories of all four kids getting into bed for story time.

Thank you, Susie and Tim! I know your neighborhood is blessed by the work you did to make this available to them.

How about y’all? Do you have anything similar near your house?

The post Celebrating the Little Free Libraries appeared first on Author Regina Jennings.

Here’s the skinny – Follow 5 authors as we collaborate on a painting (from LetsMakeArt) and talk about what courage means in our lives. Visit all 5 blogs and find the answers to the questions on the entry form. From the completed forms, one winner will be chosen to win 5 books (one from each author), as well as the painting that they collaborated on.

How fun is that? So, let’s get started.

Read this courageous portion of The Lieutenant’s Bargain, then watch the video for clues:

Hattie was just about to return to the coach when she heard a loud cracking noise. What were they doing now? Trying to rush her? She arranged the hood of her coat down snuggly over her chestnut hair and planted her foot on a high shelf of red clay. Another loud pop—a couple, in fact. The top of the stagecoach came into view as she climbed up. The driver crouched in his seat.

“Stay down,” he yelled, waving her away.

“What?” She caught the edge of her hood to keep the wind from snatching it.

The leather window covering flapped open, and a pistol emerged. Smoke puffed out of it, then a second later, a sharp crack split the air. Agent Gibson was shooting at someone, and Mr. Sloane was right behind him. The door opened, and the agent used it to shield himself as he continued to return fire.

Hattie felt the blood drain from her face. It couldn’t be. The hard dirt scraped her cheek as she hugged the ledge. The driver had turned and taken up the reins. With his arms flapping, he egged the horses forward.

“Wait…” All her paints and canvases were on that stage. They couldn’t leave her behind.

But then she saw the horseman racing toward them. The driver of the coach was hunched over the reins, urging the team forward, when he stiffened, then slumped to the side. The stage’s horses jerked into motion even as he fell out of his seat.  

Hattie ducked out of sight. No. Why? Suddenly the boorish men she’d been traveling with didn’t seem so bad, and they needed help. But what could she do?

Another shot made her rise up just in time to see Agent Gibson topple out of the door as the stage careened away. She could only see the back of the outlaw, but she could feel his deadly intent as he walked his horse slowly toward the crumpled figure.

If Agent Gibson wasn’t dead already, he would be in the time it took to twitch a trigger finger. She rested her chin against the ledge. Why was she considering such a reckless act? She didn’t owe the agent anything.

Before she could think better of it, Hattie stood to her full height and waved her mittened hand over her head.

“Over here!” How small her voice sounded on the prairie. How frail. But it was enough. The killer led with his pistol as he turned his horse toward her. His nose twitched like a dog on the scent, and his mouth hung open like he was tasting the air. 

Of all the dumb decisions Hattie had made in her life, this was the worst. She might have bought Agent Gibson a few minutes to make his peace, but at what price?

With a quick prayer for the men scattered above her on the plain, Hattie dropped to the dry creek bed and ran down the narrow corridor of the gully, following its twists and curves, looking for a way to save her life.

Now the Video:

And finally, the contest entry: The Courage Chronicles Entry Form

The event is open from 5/6 to 5/10, with the final giveaway closing 5/17. The giveaway is open to residents of the U.S. The posts are located at:

Regina’s Post – You’re here!

Sarah’s Post – Available Tuesday

Amanda’s Post – Available Wednesday

Karen’s Post – Available Thursday

Joanne’s Post – Available Friday

Thank you for participating, and God bless!

Love,

Regina

The post The Courage Chronicles appeared first on Author Regina Jennings.

I’ll be going back. What would you like to see more of in the next video? What questions do you have that we could get answered?

The post Video: Live from Fort Reno, site of “Holding the Fort” appeared first on Author Regina Jennings.

The post Be the First to Welcome Louisa to Oklahoma! appeared first on Author Regina Jennings.

The rest of the box was pretty typical – a few Left Behind stories, and a Dobson parenting book – but then there was this small, white paperback with a generic title, like Seasons of Love or something, and a picture of a couple watching a sunset together.

Was this a secular romance? I couldn’t tell by the publisher’s name. In fact, it looked self-published. Was it someone I knew? I skimmed through the Table of Contents and saw chapter titles like On the Beach, At the Chalet, After the Football Game, On the Ranch. The first chapter started with characters named Nick and Megan and yes, they were on the beach. There was no plot, or backstory. Just two characters on a beach and we’ll just hope they were on a deserted beach, and that they were lawfully wed.

What was this book? A collection of steamy short-stories? The next chapter had two characters caught in a snowstorm in the Alps, and they weren’t playing Scrabble to pass the time at the chalet. I thumbed through the rest of the book. Nothing but a collection of love scenes set in exotic locations. But wait? Wasn’t the main character named Nick in the first chapter? And was that Megan again? Were all of these fantasies about characters named Nick and Megan?

What in the world? I’d never heard of a book like this. I flipped through the title pages and copyright pages trying to find out who published this ramshackle hot mess of raunchy scenes. That’s when I saw it.

To Nick and Megan (Last Name), on their wedding day… 

Love, Mom.

Nick and Megan? That Nick and Megan? The ones who go to church with me? The ones who sing in the choir? His mom bought this for them? His mom? Yes, turns out there are websites where you can customize books like this. Nick’s mom did this for their wedding, and poor Megan accidentally donated to the church library.

Whether or not the idea of making a book filled with saucy scenes of me and my husband had ever occurred to me, I hope it’d never occurred to my mother-in-law! Had Megan meant to throw it away? Could we sell it for more than $1 on the sale rack? (Just joking!) I felt compelled to let her know. She wasn’t a close friend, but surely she’d see the humor in it and be glad I caught the mistake before someone else read the book.

On Sunday after church, I met her in the library and handed her the book. “I think you might want this back,” I said.

She glanced at it. “No, I don’t have room for it on my bookshelves. The kids’ books are taking up too much space.” She pushed it back at me.

“But it’s a customized book.” I shoved it back at her. “It says it’s a wedding present. You really should take a look at it.”

“It was from Nick’s mom and I never read it. She’s all into romances, but I don’t have time for books like that. Here, you like that kind of book. You can keep it.” And just like that, she handed it to me, and walked out.

Well, folks, you can’t say I didn’t try. And if that book became the most popular book in our church library, and was checked out dozens of times, you can’t blame me. I gave her a chance.

Of course, that’s not what happened. For real, I chased her down and insisted that she take it, but I’m not sure she ever understood what was in that book from her mother-in-law. On the other hand, not soon after this event she moved out of town, so maybe she did figure it out.

If I have one word of advice, it’s this – Please, for the safety of your library volunteers, please look over those books before you donate them to your church. And before another day passes, you might want to read that book your mother-in-law gave you for your wedding.

(Names have been changed.)

The post Don’t Ever Donate This to Your Church Library… appeared first on Author Regina Jennings.

Always looking to save some money, we decided to park way out at the Lloyd Noble Center and walk to the stadium. We’re both healthy, so what would it hurt, even if it was 100 degrees in the shade? We can take the heat.

One thing I couldn’t take though, was walking two miles in uncomfortable shoes. Just a few weeks earlier I’d made that mistake when my friend and author buddy Becky Wade had visited OKC. Someone in the group who is related to me by marriage and should know better, underestimated the distance to the OKC Memorial. It turned into quite a hike…especially for someone wearing an adorable pair of new high wedges. Once we got to the Memorial, I took off my shoes to give my feet a rest before we started walking back to Bricktown. Unfortunately my feet swelled like inflatable rafts. The shoes would not go back on. At all.

Poor Becky and Mr. Wade were escorted back through downtown by a barefoot hostess. At one point, crossing a gravel parking lot, I had to catch a piggyback ride to make it across. Just what you want to do in the trendy section of town on a Saturday night. We gave them a visit they’ll never forget.

And I hadn’t forgotten either. No cute shoes on this trip. I was going to wear my tried and true flipflops with a lot of cushion.

And that worked well for the first mile to the stadium. Becky (my sister) and I chatted, laughed and sweated as we hurried along just behind the crowd. We were a little late.

(Owen Field – photo by Andrew Rine, WikiCommons)

Suddenly something snapped, and with the next step I was standing on bare pavement. What just happened? I looked behind me and there was my flipflop with the strap broken. Now, if you’ve ever had flipflops break, you know that they become the most useless thing in the world. They aren’t sandals. There aren’t other straps to hold them on. Nope, they are just a flat piece of foam with no method of attachment to the bottom of your foot.

This was trouble. I could walk a mile barefoot. I’d proved that in Bricktown. But did I want to walk two miles back in the dark when the game was over? And would they let me into the stadium barefoot? Somehow I doubted it.

But we would press on. We were resourceful. We could figure out something by the time we reached the game.

My first try was to poke my chewing gum into the holes that hold the strap in. Both the side and the hole between my holes had quit on me, so I filled them with green, spearmint gum. Then I carefully pushed the prong into the hole and waited.

Did I mention that it was 100 degrees? That gum wasn’t going to set-up and harden for anything. One step and I realized that all I’d accomplished was getting spearmint gum stuck between my toes. I tried to pick it out, but people were starting to stare at the crazy woman who’d chosen the middle of a busy sidewalk to clean the gum from between her toes. It’d have to wait. I had bigger problems.

We kept walking and soon we were in tailgater land. We asked a few times for duct tape, and unbelievably there was none to be had – a fact I share with the deepest shame and regret.

“We could borrow a rubber band,” Becky said. “Oh, wait. I have a ponytail holder.”

She pulled a ponytail holder off her wrist. By stretching it over my foot and shoe, I was barely able to hold it on. Enough to fake appropriate footwear as we went through the gate at least, but that thin band wouldn’t hold for long. Not being scraped against concrete the way it was. Something else must be done.

I hobbled through the gate and went to the concession area. Surely there’d be something to buy, and there was. The cutest pair of OU flipflops I’d ever seen. For $38.

(The Sooner Schooner – Photo by Nmajdan, WikiCommons)

Suddenly saving on parking didn’t look like such a great idea. Neither did leaving my wallet in the car. I’d stuck a twenty in my pocket for snacks during the game, but I don’t like using plastic when I don’t have to. I also don’t like carrying a purse. Hmmm…. I might need to rethink some of these preferences.

Luckily my sister was with me.

“I only have twenty dollars,” I told her.

“You can borrow some,” she said. She reached in her pocket and pulled out…. $2. She blinked. “I thought I stuck two twenties in there. Not two 1s.” Evidently the aversion to carrying a purse was a  family trait.

“Can I buy one shoe?” I asked the kid behind the counter. He didn’t even answer.

The crowd above us roared. The game had commenced. At least we could watch the game. It was only the walking two miles back to the car in the dark barefoot that concerned me.

On our way to our seats we passed a Medical Emergency Station. I stopped in front of it.

“You’re not going in there, are you?” Becky asked.

“They could probably help me.” The more I thought about it, the surer I was that it was the answer to my problem. We found our seats, me dragging a leg Zombie-style to keep the shoe on, but at the first break I slipped down to the medical station.

I felt guilty standing there among all the heat-stroke victims. The nurses kept eyeing me until they took care of those who had real medical issues to deal with. Finally one was free.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” I said. “But my shoe broke and won’t stay on my foot. Do you have any tape I could repair it with?” Because if the shoe wasn’t fixed and I stepped on something, then it could actually become a bonafide medical issue. That’s what I told myself, anyway.

She pulled out latex gloves and pointed me to a cart away from the front desk. It didn’t take her long to size up the problem, but instead of reaching for clear tape, she grabbed an ACE bandage.

“We’ll make sure that shoe stays on your foot,” she said. Then fast as a whirlwind she spun that giant ACE bandage around and around my foot and shoe until I thought she was turning me into a mummy. But do you know what? It felt very comfortable. And since it looked like I had a verifiable handicap (besides my inability to choose footwear), no one would be staring at me like they had when I was walking around with one shoe on.

“Thanks so much! This is perfect!” I wanted to high five her, but she had other, fainting people to worry about.

She ripped her gloves off. “That should hold it, but there’s one other thing. You have some bright green stuff growing between your toes. I’d get that checked out if I was you.”

The post How I Lost My Sole at the Football Game appeared first on Author Regina Jennings.

Being an inquisitive sort….

Of course I couldn’t just let it go without finding out for sure whether there was a whole flock of birds in my parents’ bedroom chimney. I told them to stay there and watch the chimney. I was going inside to start a fire.

I removed the little fireplace screen and tossed a few Kleenexes in the fireplace. I got a match  and then because I would never want to cause any harm to their lovely house by making it smell like smoke, I reached in to open the flue.

The noise was akin to standing beneath a helicopter when it takes off. A massive whirling, fluttering noise rose up over my head and immediately birds came pouring out of the fireplace. I smashed the fireplace screen over the opening, but the fireplace tools were in the way, keeping it from falling flush against the brick. Dozens of birds were flapping, their little claws poking my fingers through the screen, their soft bodies squeezing between the screen and the brick where the fireplace tools were leaving space. They were determined to get into the house.

I started yelling to see if anyone was in the house. I needed to get the fireplace tools out of the way because one by one, birds were squeezing through the gaps and flying around the bedroom, but I knew if I let go of the screen, dozens of birds would flood in. No one was in the house. Both hands were holding the screen, so I started blowing on the birds, yelling at them, hoping to scare them back up the flue. Surely one of my family members would come inside and check on my experiment… but no. I was on my own.

Eventually, more and more of them found their way back up the chimney and I was able to toss the tools aside so the screen fit flat over the hole. All while dodging the darting birds that had made it into the bedroom. Finally there was only one left in the fireplace. I put something heavy against the screen to hold it in place, then went outside to get the swimming pool net and start rounding up the birds inside. There was the family, watching the chimney.

“Gina, you wouldn’t believe how many birds were in the chimney!”

Yep. I think I would. In fact, y’all didn’t even see them all, because some are still flying around the house.

So much for my science experiment. My parents are so proud.

This poor bird came down the chimney, got squished in the fireplace screen, flew into a light fixture where it was trapped until we got it out with a pool net. Now it’s too tired to fight off the kids.

 

The post Alfred Hitchcock fans, this is for you – appeared first on Author Regina Jennings.

My phone rang. It was Coy. He worked at a commercial laundry plant in downtown Oklahoma City. “I think our boiler just exploded,” he said. “I wanted you to know I’m OK if you see something about it on the news.” Having assured me that he wasn’t hurt, he described the scene – light fixtures swinging loose, windows broken, wall cracked, and he was on his way downstairs to see how he could help, but on the way he met people coming up. No, the boilers hadn’t exploded. Maybe it was the building next door? He hung up as they rushed outside.

I called a friend at the church. She was on the other line with her husband who also worked downtown. He was convinced that something had happened near him, but didn’t know what. But his and Coy’s offices weren’t on the same block. How could they have both been shaken by the same event? Could that have possibly been the thunder I heard? That’s when we turned the TV on and saw the first images of the gutted Murrah Building.

Stunned is the only way to describe the newscasters as they came on air. At first they shared the feeble hopes that perhaps no one had been hurt, but it didn’t take long for those empty words to be dropped. Obviously people had been hurt, a great many people. And more might be hurting even then in the rubble.

The sirens started almost immediately, rescue, fire and police leaving our suburb to race to the site. Then ten minutes later they would start in again as another rescue squadron from another community passed through on their way to Oklahoma City. Even hours later sirens could still be heard streaming past as the whole state, the whole nation raced to help.

And that’s what was so frustrating. There was nothing we could do to help. Sitting at the one-pin of Tornado Alley, we Oklahomans are used to putting on our boots and gloves and sorting through rubble. We’re used to providing cots and meals for people who’ve lost their homes…but this was different. People hadn’t lost their homes. People were lost. People had disappeared and it wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t a natural disaster that was beyond our control. This disaster was man-made.

Stunned. Again.

Since April 19, 1995, America has seen bigger attacks. The story of the Oklahoma City bombing doesn’t shock a generation that watched planes fly into the Twin Towers, but Oklahoma City has had more time to heal, and here’s what I’ve found –

As I was sitting my kids down, telling them once again about what happened here where they live, they wanted to know who did it? Why was it done? What happened next? As someone who followed the investigation and trial closely, I was surprised to find that why and who didn’t interest me. Justice had been carried out and that part of the story was closed. Instead I wanted to tell them about the people who had lived through it and those who’d been lost.

And even more than that, I wanted to tell them about how we responded.  You see, we will never live in complete safety. While it takes toil and intelligence to create, it only takes a fraction of the effort to destroy. Doing what is right, holy and honorable is difficult. There will be many chances to fail, but decide to be evil, destructive and selfish–well, you’ll find that an easy goal. Narrow is the way that leads to life, broad is the path to destruction. But the broad path is short. Destruction comes sooner than you realize and with it anonymity.

We’ll remember giving blood, making meals for the rescuers, buying meals for complete strangers just because they were wearing a uniform in a restaurant – that’s what we’ll remember. And those who lost loved one will honor them, telling story with about them with a smile once the pain has faded. The good will be celebrated. The dross is burned away and the gold cherished. That’s what endures.

The post April 19, 1995 – What Remains appeared first on Author Regina Jennings.

It’s the one I shared about here… and it was just as fun to work with Karen, Mary and Carol as I thought it’d be. We enjoyed hearing from so many of you who enjoyed the collection, and now we want to give even more of you a chance to try it out. Maybe you aren’t ready to make the commitment to buying the whole collection. That’s why our publisher has broke down the novellas into 4 short ebooks that can now….drum roll, please….be bought separately!

That’s right you can now buy my novella “An Unforeseen Match” separately, although I just know you’ll want to read the other three, as well. Give one a try, then snatch up the rest!

An Unforeseen Match

Grace is losing her sight and in order to find a husband before she goes blind, she considers running an ad. Hoping to earn an honest wage on his way to the land rush, Clayton ends up on Grace’s doorstep lured by a classified ad – but he may have signed on for more than he expected and he may have found the one woman who can keep him from moving on.

Amazon

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ChristianBook.com

A Cowboy Unmatched

Neill isn’t sure who hired him to repair Clara’s roof–he only knows Clara desperately needs his help. Can he convince this stubborn widow to let down her guard and take another chance on love?

Amazon

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ChristianBook.com

No Match for Love

Andrew can’t fathom how refined Lucy ended up as the caretaker to his dotty aunt, and somehow her arrival has prompted even more bizarre occurrences around the ranch. When they join forces to unearth the truth, will the attraction between Andrew and Lucy develop into more?

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

ChristianBook.com

Meeting Her Match

When the tables are turned and a tenderhearted meddler becomes the beneficiary of a matchmaking scheme, her world is turned upside down. As her entire life changes, will she finally be able to tell the banker’s son how much she cares for him?

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

ChristianBook.com

We hope you enjoy our four stories!!

The post Breaking Up the Band… appeared first on Author Regina Jennings.