I have a new series coming your way called Maizmerized. Born for This, book one, is a time-travel, historical romance with a hint of the paranormal, and it’s due for release on October 29, 2021. Check out the cover and the excerpt.
She’s always been obsessed with her ancestors, and now he’s offering her a chance to live with them…forever.
Blurb: Second-year university student Edie Whitecrow gobbles up each course on Indigenous studies. If only she could experience the lives of her Anishinaabe ancestors instead of reading about them. On her way to a Halloween party decked out as a historical Ojibway maiden, she spies a corn maze in a spot known to be barren.
A scarecrow figure beckons Edie to enter with the enticing offer of making her biggest wish come true. She jumps at the chance and finds herself in the past, face to face with the man who haunts her dreams—the handsome brave Thunder Bear. He claims he’s spent twelve years waiting for Gitchi Manidoo to send her to him.
Life in the eighteenth century isn’t what Edie romanticized about, though. When her conscience is tested, she must choose between the modern day or the world of her descendants—where the man she was born for resides.
The corner of her eye caught the moonlight shining down on a…corn maze.
The land to her right, as far as she knew, was barren. A simple field. She turned her head and lowered the volume on the stereo. For goodness sake, she was staring at a corn maze. How amazing. Mandaamin was sacred to her people and what they served for the fall feast held every late September.
She’d never seen an actual maze before. Farmers didn’t go out of their way to create elaborate labyrinths in the Rainy River Valley. Instead, they planted in straight rows.
She had to check this out.
Edie pulled over. Much to her delight, she didn’t have to park on the side of the road because grass trampled into black velvet earth led down to the maze. She guided her car along the smooth surface.
How could this have happened? She squinted. Even weirder, the brown husks were dead.
A scarecrow stood sentry at the entrance.
Her phone blipped. She swiped the cell from her purse and checked the text message.
Where are you? The party’s already started.
The message was from Tamara, naturally. Her best friend wanted to set Edie up with the mystery guest who was supposed to show at the party. Not that again.
I’m checking something out. Give me twenty minutes.
The maze must be a mirage of some sort. Nobody would create something like this without everyone in the Rainy River District knowing about it and coming to peek at the elaborate construction.
Hurry. I told you. He’s smokin’. Freaking f-ing hot. He comes from a rez in Manitoba. He goes to U of M. He’s in his second year for his master’s in political science. I’m only gonna be able to hold off the girls for so long.
Edie sighed and typed.
You told me all this already. I’ll be there soon.
You can’t keep your legs closed forevah, gf!
Gosh, what was the big deal of her nonexistent sex life? She couldn’t be blamed for staying a virgin. The right guy had never come along. Maybe because, as Mom said, “Stop with the fantasies of the perfect boy. Just because there’re no warriors in this day doesn’t mean boys in university can’t be heroic in their own way. For once, please put away your books and go out and live.”
But those books on her ancestors were Edie’s most trusted companions.
Okay, give me a second to do this. Then I’ll be right there.
You’d never believe me.
Edie shucked aside the phone. She shut off her car and got out. A hint of a breeze ruffled the fringes on the bottom of her doeskin dress. There hadn’t been a smidgen of wind earlier, even all day, so why now?
The breeze seemed to push on her backside in the direction of the scarecrow, as if Animkiig, the Thunderbirds, were guiding her forward. Impossible. There was no storm. Not one cloud lazily floated in the midnight-blue sky.
Movement came from the scarecrow. Its hanging head creaked in her direction.
A shock of fright gripped Edie by the spine. She tried to halt, but the breeze continued to nudge her forward, as if reassuring her there was nothing to fear.
She shuffled her moccasin-wrapped feet forward. The alarm didn’t dissipate. She bit down on her finger, nibbling at the skin of her index so she wouldn’t bite her long nails she’d had manicured for the party.
The scarecrow raised its hand and curled one bony finger at her.