Maggie Blackbird

Book Hooks is a weekly meme hosted by Marketing for Romance Writers as part of the MFRW Authors Blog. Readers can jump from one author to another who share hooks from their current WIP (work in progress) or any previously published books.

For this week’s edition of Book Hooks, I give you a teaser from Born Like This, book two in the Maizemerized series, a time-travel, historical romance. Be sure to check out other book hooks HERE.

She went back in time to rescue him.  She never counted on falling in love…

Alma Whitecrow prefers hunting and fishing with men, not romancing them. But hearing about the roguishly handsome coureur de bois, who saved her sister from the Dakota, haunts her thoughts and dreams. Well-versed in surviving the wilds, Alma resolves to travel to the mid-eighteenth century, as her sister once did, to save the man from impending death.

Charlot Baudelaire thumbs his nose at society’s expectations, content living as a loner, trading with people he calls the Saulters. If he needs a woman for the night, there is always a willing maiden. What he doesn’t expect is a spunky and stubborn female warrior to challenge him.

Charlot is not the man Alma dreamed about, and Alma is not the kind of woman Charlot pursues. But the longer they are together, the more drawn to each other they become, until Alma faces the biggest decision of her life. Stay with a man who may never reciprocate her love, or return to her Ojibway home and bland existence.

Genre(s): Time Travel, Historical Romance, Contemporary Romance, First Nations Romance, Paranormal Romance, Adult.
Heat Rating: Level 3
Publication Date:  October 31, 2025
Publisher:  eXtasy Books

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Alma set down the plates and grabbed her rifle before following Charlot.

“It repeats, hmm.” Charlot nodded at her weapon.

“Yes. I will show you how I load it.”

Theodore trotted beside them.

“And I shall do the same.” He stopped at an old fallen tree. “You trained him well. He is a good dog.”

“Thank you.” When Charlot thought to pat Theodore on the head, warmth flooded her chest.

She surveyed the area. Charlot had chosen a perfect spot because there was another half-broken, dead tree they could use as a target.

He held the musket parallel to the ground. “You must start at this angle.”

Alma eased the big gun from him. It was heavier than her rifle—much heavier. But she had strong biceps from all of her tomboy activities.

Charlot reached for something on his hip. A paper cartridge, which he handed to her. “This contains your powder and ball. Half cock the hammer and open the pan first. Right here.”

She opened the pan.

“Tear open the top of the cartridge and pour some powder into the pan.”

Only some? Why not all of it? But she held her tongue, or she’d annoy him, and they might start bickering again. Nothing was going to cost her this experience of firing an ancient weapon.

“Set the butt of the musket on the ground.”

Again, she followed his orders.

“Pour the rest down the barrel, followed by the paper containing the ball.”

She emptied the last of the powder and then stuffed the paper-wrapped ball down the barrel.

“This is the ramrod.” He pointed. “Release it and pack the powder.”

This was too exciting and interesting. She did as ordered.

“Three times or more to ensure it’s packed tight.”

She performed the packing until he gave a brisk nod.

“Recover the ramrod.”

She secured the long, wooden stick in its spot beneath the barrel.

“Finally, fully cock the hammer.” He pointed at it again.

She knew where the hammer was but didn’t tell him she didn’t need that much instruction, or they’d be ready to choke one another for the eighteenth time.

“You are now ready to fire. Turn to your target.”

Excitement fluttered through her veins. “How long of a shot do you get with this?” She aimed at the broken tree.

“Watch and see.”

She was about three hundred yards from her target.

“Use the front post sight and the rear notch. Line them up with the spot on the tree you wish to hit.”

“I have it in my sight.” More excitement fluttered inside of her.

“Fire when ready.”

Her finger itched, ready to fire, but she made sure she had everything properly lined up. Hitting her target was imperative. She squeezed. The boom echoed through the trees. The recoil wasn’t as bad as she’d assumed, nothing close to the kick from her rifle.

“Ah, magnifique.” He brought his hands together in a low, lazy clap.

The rush sent the blood racing to her head. So much so that she was ready to squeal like a pig running about in an enclosure. A true adrenaline rush. “That was… Goodness. I enjoyed that very much.” If only she could use English to say fuck yeah, baby!

“May I try again?”

“We must be careful with ammunition, unfortunately.”

“I understand.” She licked her lips. God, she couldn’t get over the heady pleasure she received from target shooting with him by her side.

“Now it is my turn.” He raised one brow, smirking at the rifle she’d set on the ground.

“You will enjoy this very much,” she reassured him, matching his smirk.

“Oh? Will I? By the look in your eyes, you seem to find weapons more pleasurable than…” He kept grinning, and his twinkling gaze said he more than implied a sexual innuendo.

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