When the Cowboy Rides Away

I'm back--with big writing news to share. My novel When the Cowboy Rides Away has a new publisher and a new cover, but both versions are exactly the same. If you read the old version, you read the new version, too. Let me know what you think. Below is the original cover so you will know whether or not you already read the book. By the way, When the Cowboy Rides Away won two contests for published authors after the first version was published, and that information is posted in the new version.

Maggie Gallagher, twenty-one, runs the Gallagher Ranch in South Texas and has raised her little sister and orphaned nephew since her parents and older sister died. No wonder she can’t find time for romance! When the Cowboy Rides Away opens two years after Maggie loses her family members. Out for a ride with her sister, she discovers Alex Lancaster, a handsome cowboy, shot and seriously wounded, on her land. Kind-hearted and a Christian, Maggie nurses him back to health despite all her other chores. How could she know that Alex has a secret that could break her heart? When the Cowboy Rides Away won the 2016 Texas Association of Authors contest in the Christian western category. In the same year, When the Cowboy Rides Away also placed in the Will Rogers Medallion Award in the Inspirational Western Fiction category. "A sweet western romance novel set in South Texas, 1880. I enjoyed the sassy and competent Maggie Gallagher who cares for two orphan children, relations of hers. The complication when Alex Lancaster is found wounded and with a memory loss pulls two strong-willed but likeable characters together. Struggles with witchcraft and intrigues combine with believable relationship conflicts. They must deal with suspicion and mistrust issues when secret, unhappy pasts clash. Good pacing of development of relationships. Appreciated the surprise twist." ~ Janet Chester Bly, author and co-author of 32 fiction and nonfiction books "Molly Noble Bull produces another western novel that is so authentic I felt as if I were there in South Texas. I’ve been there a number of times, and she has the setting perfect. I loved the characters who tugged at my heartstrings throughout the story, and I kept turning pages to find out how it would all end." ~ Lena Nelson Dooley, award-winning, best-selling author of over 30 books

God Bless You, Texas

by Molly Noble Bull

Texas, Our Texas is the title of our state song, and it tells a lot about Texas and Texans—about the kind of people we are and have always been. I live in the ranching area of my state near Corpus Christi where some of the biggest ranches in the country, if not the world, are located. But Corpus Christi is a seaside city on Corpus Christi Bay. Rockport is a small but beautiful seaside town north of Corpus.

Where I live is southwest of Corpus and was on the south side of Hurricane Harvey or the back end of the storm, meaning we didn’t get the blunt of the storm this time. However in the past, my area has been on the north side, the front end, of the high winds and heavy rains connected with dangerous storms; so we know first hand what Houston and other parts of our state are experiencing now.

With a few exceptions, Texans are known for their friendliness, big hearts, and strong faith in the God of the Bible. I would like to end this message with quotes from

Texas, Our Texas.

Texas, Our Texas! All hail the mighty state!

Texas, Our Texas! So wonderful so great!

Boldest and grandest, withstanding ev’ry test

O Empire wide and glorious, you stand supremely blest.     

(chorus)

God bless you Texas! And keep you brave and strong,

That you may grow and power and worth, throughout the ages long.

Let the Redeemed of the Lord Say So..

In the Book of Psalm, chapter 107 and verse 2, the Bible tells how believers are to witness in the end times--speak up regardless of the consequences. 

.   Let the redeemed of the Lord say so, Psalm 107:2

I am redeemed of the Lord, in the name of Jesus, and I will overcome by the Blood of the Lamb and the word of my testimony and dwell in the House of the Lord forever. 

.   Let the redeemed of the Lord say so, Psalm 107:2

I am redeemed of the Lord, in the name of Jesus, and I will overcome by the Blood of the Lamb and the word of my testimony and will dwell in the House of the Lord forever.  

.   Let the redeemed of the Lord say so, Psalm 107:2

I am redeemed of the Lord, in the name of Jesus, and I will overcome by the Blood of the Lamb and the word of my testimony and will dwell in the House of the Lord forever. 

Have you said so yet? 

Chicken and Dumplings

by Molly Noble Bull

Do you chicken and dumplings?

When I was a child and a young adult living at home with my parents, I especially liked that particular meal, and I assumed that everybody else liked it too. But apparently, not everyone likes chicken and dumplings.

The Bible says that the true church is the Bride of Jesus Christ and that when Jesus returns to earth at the second coming, he will marry the true church, and they will live happily ever after—in eternity—a place called heaven. Knowing this, is it any wonder that women like to read and write romance novels with forever after endings?

A marriage is the blending of two different families into one new and often unique family, and in order to make this new family work, many if not most brides and brides-to-be spend time before and after the wedding learning what her groom likes and what he doesn’t. The same is true with the church. The true church spends time reading and studying the scriptures in order to learn what the Lord likes and what He doesn’t like.

Charlie Bull is my earthly husband, and we have been married for many years. But like the church that is the bride of Christ, I had to learn what Charlie liked and didn’t like as a newly married bride. Sometimes, these lessons can be painful.

Charlie and I had been married about a year when I decided to fix chicken and dumplings for supper. It was a meal favorite in my family, and I was sure Charlie was going to like it too. But when I poured chicken and dumpling onto his plate that evening, he did not look happy.

Charlie looked up at me and frowned. “This is nothing but watered-down biscuits.”

I couldn’t understand why he was so angry. Until that moment, we had never had a single disagreement must less an all out argument.

It was like two football teams fighting, the Dumplings against the Anti-Dumplings, and the anti-dumplings won. In the new family that came about as the result of our marriage, chicken and dumpling were never served in our home, and I doubt if our children even knew it was a family favorite on my side of the family.

The true church is like that. The bride of Christ learns what her groom likes and what he doesn’t like from reading and studying the Bible, and not only does she stop doing the things he doesn’t like, she repents for doing it in the first place.

Although I never served chicken and dumplings in our home again, I have ordered it at restaurants, and it doesn’t taste as good as I remember it tasting when Mama cooked it.

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Speaking of romance novels that women like, two of my Christian romances were published in May 2017.

The first one, The Secret Admirer Romance Collection, is a collection of 9 historical novellas by 9 different authors. My novel is titled “Too Many Secrets.”

The second of my books published in May is 
titled Cinderella Texas, a modern day 
Christian western set on a cattle ranch in 
South Texas where we live today.

To see all my books and learn about them, 
click here. http://bit.ly/mollynoblebull  

PIPPA MIDDLETON MARRYS HEDGE FUND MANAGER

May Pippa and Hedge live happily ever after.

by Molly Noble Bull

People have always told me that I am a funny lady—that I make people laugh. But as any writer will tell you, humor is hard to write. One man’s funny is another man or women’s corny, silly, stupid.

Nevertheless, Cinderella Texas, my soon to be published western romance is a little scary. Is it another Christian Gothic like Gatehaven where my setting was a haunting mansion in England?

No. Then why is it scary?

Because Cinderella Texas made me laugh as I was writing it. But were readers going to like my kind-of-funny novels? As I was watching Fox News and reading about the wedding of Kate Middleton’s sister, Pippa, in a line of updates at the bottom of the screen, I read it like this. Pippa Middleton weds Hedge Fund Manager.

Hedge. Or Hedge Fund. Or Hedge F. Manager. What a terrible name for a romantic hero any way you write it—much less the name of the husband of someone as lovely as Pippa Middleton. I’m so glad that Hedge’s real name is James Matthews. It’s more heroic and romantic, too, than Hedge Fund Manager. But then, what do I know?

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To read the first chapter of Cinderella Texas, go to my website. www.mollynoblebull.com www.mollynoblebull.comhttp://bit.ly/mollynoblebullScroll down and click Molly’s Free Downloads, and while you are there, check out The Secret Admirer Romance Collection and my novella in that collection, “Too Many Secrets.”  It’s funny too—or corny. You decide. To see all my books, click here. http://bit.ly/mollynoblebull

P.S. That’s me in the wedding dress on the arm of my late father, waiting to walk down the aisle. I don’t own a picture of Pippa in hers.

The Secret Admirer Romance Collecton— http://bit.ly/secretadmirerromance  

9 novellas by 9 authors. 

My name is Molly Noble Bull, and my novella is titled,“Too Many Secrets.” Read the first two chapters now at www.mollynoblebull.com by scrolling down and clicking

Molly’s Free Downloads. 

To see all my novels, click here http://bit.ly/mollynoblebull 

What is TOO MANY SECRETS about? 

Abigail Willoughby hides her feeling for Luke Conquest, the handsome cowboy who introduced her to her mail-order-husband. How could she had guessed that her future husband was ninety years old?   

I'm the One With Gray Hair.

by Molly Noble Bull

I suffer from a come-and-go digestive problem that sometimes requires medication, and yesterday, I went to the drive-in window of the local pharmacy to pick up my refilled prescription. As I was driving off, I noticed that my name was not written on the little white sack with the medicine in it. The last name was Bull, all right, but the first name wasn’t Molly.

I drove around the block and returned to the pharmacy, but this time, I had to wait in line. When I finally got to the window, I grinned at the lady I’d talked to the first time.

“I’m back,” I said, holding up the little white sack. “You gave me the wrong medicine. This is for someone else. I’m the one with gray hair.”

She laughed. Then she found what I came for, handed it to me, and I went home.

Sometimes we receive medicine, truths, really meant for someone else. The Lord seemed to be showing me that when that happens, we are expected to turn around, return the medicine, and go home. I think I learn the most about God when I am given bad tasting medicine really meant for someone else.

# 

The Secret Admirer Romance Collection is a collection of nine novellas by nine different authors, and my novella is titled “Too Many Secrets.” http://bit.ly/mollynoblebull

What do you have to offer the world?

posted by Teresa Slack

Most of us don’t think of ourselves as an expert at anything. We haven’t discovered anything or invented anything or cured anything. We haven’t built a business that employs millions or solved a great problem facing humankind. We downplay our abilities since they’re not that impressive. After all, almost anyone can balance a checkbook or raise kids or even write a blog post. We keep our heads down and hope we don't sound like we’re bragging.

Recently I was asked to speak at a writers’ conference. It's been a long time since I've talked about writing. To be honest, it's been a long time since I've written a whole lot. I believe I do have something to offer writers. I’ve been doing it a while and have met with some success with my published novels. But an expert…I don't know if I'd go that far.

I almost didn't accept the invitation. I worried I might not have enough to offer that the attendees didn’t already know. Actually, I was afraid. Afraid of not having as good a presentation as the other writers doing workshops. Afraid I’d fall on my face. Afraid everyone would see me as the fraud I thought I was.

Aren't those dumb reasons for not doing something I love?

No matter your interests or abilities or experience or natural talent, you have something to offer that can benefit or impact someone. Don't let fear or the thought that you're a phony or not as good as you think you are keep you from doing what you enjoy and from being a being a blessing to others. We tell ourselves we’re not that funny or talented or experienced. Consequently, we do nothing. Who suffers when we make that choice?

Not only are we hurting ourselves by not stretching our wings and doing what we enjoy, we are also hurting the people we don’t help. Vanity is sometimes disguised as fear. The fear we experience when doing something outside our comfort zone is vanity. No one wants to fall on their face in front of witnesses. But not doing something helpful or beneficial to others because of selfish reasons is vanity.

No matter how minimal you believe your talents, someone can benefit from learning them. Even if you think everyone knows how to bake a chocolate chip cookie or housebreak a puppy or sew on a button, you will come across someone who needs your advice on the subject. I am sure there are also bigger things, too, in which you have experience.

What are you good at? What are your interests or natural talents? Baking. Organization. Writing. Graphic design. Woodworking. Money management. Animal training. Crafts. Mechanics. Health and beauty. Just to name a few. There is at least one area in which you could help someone else. Probably many, but for the sake of this article, we'll focus on one. Name one thing you could teach someone else. If you share your knowledge & experience with one person, you have possibly enriched them…and yourself.

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Meet the Author, ALEXIS A. GORING

by Molly Noble Bull

  

Molly:

Alexis, it is great to have you’re here, and I can hardly wait to learn more about you and your writing. As an only child, playing “Let’s Pretend” was my favorite game and kept me from being lonely. I believe that some authors, if not most, are “Let’s Pretenders,” and fiction writing is what “Let’s Pretenders” do when they grow up.

Tell us about you, Alexis, your family and your life. Did you like to play Let’s Pretend, as a child? If so, how did this influence your decision to become a writer?

Alexis:

Oh yes, I loved to play “Let’s Pretend” as a child! I loved to pretend that I was an actress, singer, model and traveling the world. This totally influenced my decision to become a writer! My mom is an educator, my dad works in a hospital and my brother and his wife are professional physical therapists who earned doctorate degrees. Growing up, my grandparents babysat my brother and I. It was an impromptu storytelling game created by my grandpa one day that spurred me to start writing fictional stories.

Molly:

What wonderful memories. Like me, you are a Christian author, making us Sisters-in-Jesus Christ. Tell us about your spiritual life and how the Lord influenced your writing as well as the person you are today.

Alexis:

I am a Christian. I believe in Jesus Christ and thank God for giving me the gift of writing. God led me on the writing career path from a very young age. I’ve always loved reading and writing and started writing stories at age 9.

God affirmed my gift through words from teachers such as my Bible teacher in high school who told me via a written message in my yearbook that he hopes that I will continue writing because I have a “tremendous gift.” The Lord led me to mentors in college and after college who helped me to grow my gift. Two years ago, He led me to Full Sail University where I earned my MFA in Creative Writing.

The Lord blessed me with family members who are supportive of my dream to be a professional writer. All of this influenced who I am today by growing not only my gift but it also grew my faith in God. This journey that God is taking me on is also growing my patience as I learn

to wait on the Lord for His perfect timing and plan for my life.

Molly:

What a blessing. Now, tell us about that novella of yours, A Second Chance.

  

Alexis:

It’s a story about characters that are in need of a second chance in life and love. The story focuses on Marc and Traci who have had their share of heartbreak in relationships. There’s a spiritual theme of forgiveness tied in with hope and completed with restoration. My characters

go through highs and lows which tests their faith, and they learn how to trust God. Ultimately, Traci and Marc learn the meaning of Jeremiah 29:11.

Molly:

Pictures on the covers of books are great. But when I decide whether or not to buy a book at a bookstore, I read page one. Please post the first part of A Second Chance.

Alexis:

Chapter 1

Knee-deep in debt from wedding expenses, Traci Hightower sighed as she filed through the credit card statements. She should be married now, back from her honeymoon in Bali, and settled into her new home with her husband. Happy. Not single and broke.

She slapped an envelope against the desk. Five months of struggling to survive and pay off the debt. Her meager, entry-level journalist salary didn’t stretch far enough. She’d been paying her dues for seven years. She rubbed her temples.

The numbers on the credit card statement blurred in front of her eyes.

The doorbell rang. A little thrill rushed through her. She stood from her cross-legged position on the floor and hopped over the mess of papers and laundry that decorated her living room.

“Who is it?”

“The woman who gave you birth.”

For the first time today, Traci smiled. She opened the door and reached for a hug from the one person who never left her hanging.

“Hi, Mom.”

Her mom returned her daughter’s embrace, then dragged her suitcase inside. She glanced around. “Oh, my.”

Traci locked her door, then turned and shrugged. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been looking forward to this. Can’t you stay for more than two days though?”

Mom stopped picking up the bills from the floor and faced her daughter. “No, honey. I’m sorry, but I need to return home by Wednesday morning. Dad and I have an important meeting later that day.”

Traci’s heart dipped. Mom paused and placed the bills and the stack of paper she’d picked off the floor on Traci’s kitchen counter. “Oh, sweetie.” She cocooned her daughter in another embrace.

Traci snuggled close. She inhaled the familiar scent of her mother’s favorite perfume. It smelt like coconut and lime.

“You always were a cuddler.” Mom stroked her hair. “Still up to your eyeballs in debt?”

Traci nodded.

“Why don’t you let me and your father help?”

Traci took a step back and made eye contact with her mom.

“We’ve been through this. I got myself into this mess. I’ll get myself out.”

Mom smiled. “Your father and I were talking. We hate to see you struggling.”

“You don’t exactly live in a palace either. I know you want to retire soon, and I won’t have you dipping into that money.”

Mom reached into her purse. “Living in the nation’s capital area is expensive.” She rummaged through her handbag’s contents. “Have you considered moving home?”

“I can’t do that. I don’t ever want to live anywhere else. My life and career are here.”

“How’s that going for you?”

Traci picked at her fingernails. “It could be better.” Better boss, better pay, better office space. The works.

Mom nodded as she retrieved one sealed envelope from her purse. She looked toward Traci’s kitchen. “Can we make some tea? I’d like to talk with you.”

“Sure. Come with me.” Traci reached for the box of peppermint tea bags and got a bottle of honey from her refrigerator. As she put the kettle on to boil, her mom settled into a wobbly kitchen chair. She smoothed the creased edges of the envelope.

Traci poured the hot water over the tea bags in each mug and the scent of peppermint filled the air. “Everything okay?”

“Just thinking, honey.”

“About what?”

“Have a seat.”

“Sure, just let me allow the tea to steep.” After she placed a plate over each mug and set it aside, she settled into the chair across from her mom. “What’s up?”

“I never did like Greg.”

Traci traced a ring stain on the table. “Do we have to talk about my ex-fiancé?”

“Yes, because your grandfather always trusted my judgment.”

“So, Grandpa didn’t like Greg either?”

“I inherited my instincts of discernment from him. Speaking of discernment, here.” She pushed the envelope within Traci’s reach.

She frowned as she picked it up and tried to flatten its wrinkles.

“What’s this?”

 ~*~

Molly:

Thanks, Alexis, and thank you for coming. But before you go, please leave your contact information.

Alexis:

Thanks for inviting me to be your guest! Here are the links to my social media where readers may connect with me: 

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAlexisAGoring 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/PennedbyAlex 

Website: http://www.screenwriteralexis.com 

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/capturingidea/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7260528.Alexis_A_Goring 

“God is Love” blog: http://capturingtheidea.blogspot.com 

WHAT'S NEW?

by Molly Noble Bull

I would like to introduce my friend, fellow author, and proof-editor—Jeanette Pierce. She has written an interesting article based on the Bible, and as new as today’s headlines, and you will want to read it. It is just below.

Jeanette is a retired high school English teacher, and she has an MA in English with a minor in psychology. We have partnered on two sets of study guides for homeschool families based on two of my novels.

When the Cowboy Rides Away

Gatehaven

http://bit.ly/mollynoblebull  

  

“THERE IS NOTHING NEW UNDER THE SUN “- King Solomon

By Jeanette Pierce

Once upon a time an upright man lived in a great land that he loved with all his heart. But there came a time when men in authority with a different world view took the people captive from their beloved land.

As time passed, people living in the surrounding area but not having the same pride in their land, let the infrastructure go to ruins, and the land became ugly, desolate, and unlivable.

Then one day the man, saddened by the condition of his homeland, felt he could and must make his homeland great again. First, he got permission to proceed with the project. Next, he assessed the magnitude of the problem of both the inner city and the total infrastructure to understand the task before him. Last, he gathered a collection of the best men to help carry out his mission.

Finally, he and his men were on the job, making good progress in making his country great again. But alas, soon his enemies from surrounding areas, not desiring that he succeed in renewing his homeland, began plotting against him. First, they tried to discourage him by mocking him and his men. One opposition leader (a governor, no less) mocked him saying his structures were so weak that a fox could jump on the wall and break it. When mockery failed to distract them from their task, their opponents resorted to slander by telling him that rumor had it that he was making the land great again because he planned to rebel and set himself up as a king figure. They even tried to draw him away from his team for a supposed meeting, but he realized their motive was to get him alone and assassinate him, so he sent a letter declining the invitation.

After their non-violent attempts failed to stop his work, the opponents conspired with all the various enemies in the land and began to physically attack the workers. But their courageous leader wisely divided his workers into two groups, one to guard the wall and the workers while the other group worked. The workers finally had to resort to working with one hand while holding a weapon in the other. But most importantly, prayers were sent up to the one true God to protect this great leader and his teams that their enemies would be powerless against them. God heard all the prayers and protected the workers, and they finished their project ahead of time and under budget. Their enemies, realizing they were powerless against this great leader because God was fighting his battles, lost their confidence and gave up.

This great leader did all the work to make his country a great nation but took no salary.

If you have labeled the great leader as President Trump, the enemies as President Obama and the liberal Left, using Saul Alinsky’s Rules for Radicals to destroy your great leader, you would be totally wrong.

To read a story that has unbelievable similarities to what is happening in the United States at present, read Nehemiah, chapters 1-6 (Old Testament). The story begins during the reign of Artaxerxes, King of Persia. His queen is Esther, the beautiful, wise, Jewish heroine who literally saves her people from destruction. Nehemiah is the king’s cupbearer, meaning he tastes the king’s wine first. If it has been poisoned, Nehemiah, not the king, will die. The job requires a trusted person. The modern equivalent would be the job of the FBI to take a bullet for the president.

Nehemiah is saddened to the point of weeping because of the terrible condition in Jerusalem since the Jewish people have been in captivity in Babylon over 70 years. The city is in ruins, and the walls have been knocked down and the gates burned. The local enemies, including governors of the provinces, plot constantly to thwart the efforts of Nehemiah and his workers. Chapters 4-6 enumerate the various tactics they use against Nehemiah, which leads me to conclude that Saul Alinsky wasn’t the first to use his Rules for Radicals. Sanballat and his partners in crime used some of the same tactics against Nehemiah in 445 B.C. Solomon even said, “there is nothing new under the sun.” (Ecclesiastes 1:9b) Nehemiah 6:15 states that Nehemiah and his team completed the wall around Jerusalem in an unprecedented 52 days. And Nehemiah 5:14 states that Nehemiah took no salary during the 12 years of his first term as governor. Does history repeat itself or what!!!

SPEAK UP! 

Do You Know What Happened On January 22, 1973?   

Two important events in American history took place on that day. Do you know what they were?

I’ll give you a hint. One was about the life and death of a man. The other was about the life and death of millions.

I remember that day well.

By 1973 I had been a pro-life Christian for some time and was a member of a group called The Ad-Hoc Committee in Defense of Life. On January 22, 1973, I was watching our black and white television set when a TV commentator announced that the United States Supreme Court issued a landmark decision, stating that a right to privacy under the due process clause in the Fourteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution extends to a woman’s right to have an abortion. I was devastated.

I needed to talk to someone—share what I’d just heard. In my rush to phone Alice, my pro-life friend, I didn’t even bother to turn off the TV set. I just dialed her number, weeping as I explained what had just happened—that Roe vs. Wade was now the law of the land.

Suddenly, the TV newsman said something like, “I have another announcement. Former President Lyndon Baines Johnson has just died at his ranch near Johnson City, Texas.” 

The stories about the death of the 36^th President of the United States were on the front pages of every newspaper in the country the next morning. Roe vs. Wade was considered of lesser importance and was pushed to perhaps page ten. However, the future death of millions of unborn children was the big story for that day and any day.

As a result, I helped start two pro-life organizations, marching and speaking up for life. According to the Bible, we are being righteous judges when we speak up for those that cannot speak for themselves.

Speak up for people who cannot speak for themselves. Protect the rights of all who are helpless. Speak for them and be a righteous judge. Protect the rights of the poor and needy.  Proverbs 31: 8-9. (Good News Bible)

Heaven Father, give us ears to hear the cries of those who cannot speak for themselves and the hands and hearts to protect the rights of the poor, the needy and the helpless. In the blessed name of Jesus. Amen and amen.  

The Best Writing Advice I Ever Received

Posted by Teresa Slack
Nearly every time I speak to a book club or writers’ group I am asked a variation of the following question--What’s the best writing advice you ever received? I’ve received plenty of advice and inspiration over the years. But the best is often the simplest.

This advice came from country music singer Toby Keith. He said; “You can’t tell a writer to write better. You can only tell them to write more.”

Not exactly rocket science, but for me it was spot on. Don’t write better. Write more.

Regardless of our abilities or experience, there’s no excuse for not writing more. Even if it’s garbage and most of it will be edited into oblivion, we can still do it.

Imagine your doctor said you needed brain surgery. You could schedule with the guy fresh out of school who knew all the latest techniques and innovations. You would be his first patient. Or you could have the one who performed your type of surgery every day, and she was known throughout the country for her skills and experience.

You can choose whomever you want, but let me tell you, I’d pick the one who did my surgery every day.

I don’t know about you, but I am my own biggest roadblock for not writing more. Or should I say my doubts, fear—and dare I say it—laziness are my biggest roadblocks. But they shouldn’t keep me from finishing the stories I believe I’m called to write.

Whether it’s the story idea that’s been pestering you for years, the article you should’ve written last week, or the blog post you’ve put off for too long, write it. Don’t worry that it’s too long or too short or not original enough. Don’t wonder if anyone will like it or if the market will support it. Write it. And don’t write better. Write more.

What about you? What’s the best writing advice you ever received? Share it here and let us encourage one another.

Teresa Slack’s first novel Streams of Mercy, the first in her Jenna’s Creek Series, won the Bay Area Independent Publishers’ Assn award for Best First Novel. It is currently available as a free download on Amazon through May 17th. Click here to get your copy and then check out the rest of the series. Teresa’s down-to-earth characters and realistic dialog have endeared her to readers and reviewers alike. Learn more about her and her books at her website www.teresaslack.com or on her Amazon author page. Follow her on Facebook & Twitter to stay up to date with what’s coming next.

WHY WOMEN DON'T LIKE DONALD

by Molly Noble Bull 

As a Christian Republican, I am NOT part of what some call The Establishment. In fact, I am far from it. I am a pro-life, pro-family constitutional voter who was once, years ago, a southern democrat.

I prayed that the Lord would send us Christian candidates to get this country out of the mess we are in, and He did. In my opinion, the Republicans had some excellent candidates early on, and then Donald Trump got in the race.

To be honest, I liked some of the things Donald said he was for in the beginning. But that all changed when he went after Megan Kelly. The name-calling began to get under my skin after that, reminding me of every playground bully I ever knew in elementary school, and with each new insult I liked Donald a little less. I became worried when I realized that I was beginning to dislike him more than the democrats.

Ben Carson said that Donald Trump was two men. But a two-headed leader never works for me because you never know which head is speaking.

I woke up early this morning, and since I couldn’t go back to sleep, I found myself thinking up ugly names to define Donald Trump. I repented for my wrong thinking. Does Donald repent for his? 
In the New Testament of the Bible, Saul was a bad guy who hated Christians, but God turned him into a good guy, changing his name to Paul—also known as Saint Paul. May the Lord turn all our Sauls into Pauls, and save our country now and for generations to come.

At this point in time, I cannot vote for Donald, if he is the candidate, and I will not vote for a democrat. But I will vote for all the other Republican candidates. 

I don’t know why other women don’t like Donald. I can only speak for myself. But I am praying for him, and will continue to do that—right up until Election Day and beyond. 

P,S., I voted for Ted Cruz in the Texas primary, and as a published Christian novelist, I am endorsing him now as our future President of the United States. 

   

WORDS HURT

by Molly Noble Bull

It is true that sticks and stones can break bones. But words hurt. Words have hurt me. Words have hurt you. Unkind words have hurt just about everybody.

Yet Donald Trump defines people by calling them one of his now famous acid names. Every time he does it, I remember back when someone treated me unkindly, and I don’t want to remember those events. Nobody does.

I am a mom, a grandmother and former elementary and early childhood teacher, and I find myself constantly wishing I could wash Donald’s mouth out with soap or send him to the “time out” corner for his childish behavior. I am also a Christian. As a Christian, I forgave those who said or did something unkind to me and pray for them in the name of Jesus. But what of those who fail to forgive?

Can you spell stirring up anger? If I am an example, The Donald stirs up anger almost daily, and I don't like getting angry. That is not who I am. 
He has promised to become presidential once he gets the nomination. I hope he means it. But how can we know for sure? Can you imagine sitting on the edge of your chair each night, watching the evening news and waiting to hear what evil name the Donald called some world leader or his wife that day?

I don’t know about you, but my husband and I didn’t vote for Donald Trump in the Texas primary. Words hurt, and though none of the Republican candidates are perfect, only one has an acid tongue.

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Check out my newest western, When the Cowboy Rides Away.

http://bit.ly/cowboyrides 

MY WESTERN WON A CONTEST

MOLLY NOBLE BULL 

CHRISTIAN WESTERN Categroy

March 1, 2016 – Molly Noble Bull has won first place in the 2016 Texas Association of Authors Award, Christian Western Category, for her novel, When the Cowboy Rides Away, published by Elk Lake Publishing. The Texas Association of Authors is an organization whose focus is to promote the authors within the great state of Texas.

When the Cowboy Rides Away is a romantic, inspirational western novel set on a cattle ranch in South Texas in 1880, and the e-book version will be on sale at Amazon for 99 cents, starting on March 15, 2016. 

All entrants in the Texas Association of Authors contest must live in the state of Texas. Molly’s Texas pedigree is impressive. Her father and grandfather were ranch foreman—real Texas cowboys—and she spent part of her growing-up years on a sixty-thousand acre cattle ranch in South Texas where When the Cowboy Rides Away is set.

Molly has authored ten books in various genres, both fiction and non-fiction. In addition to western romance, she’s also written Christian gothic historic romance, adventure stories, humor, and stories for children. Molly is a wife, mother, grandmother, and former elementary and early childhood teacher.

You can explore Molly’s books on Amazon and Goodreads, and you find her website at mollynoblebull.com. Molly is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers.

To arrange a book signing or an interview, contact Molly at mollyb83@sbcglobal.net.

Praise for When the Cowboy Rides Away:

“Molly Noble Bull produces another western novel that is so authentic I felt as if I were there in south Texas. I’ve been there a number of times, and she has the setting perfect. I loved the characters who tugged at my heartstrings throughout the story, and I kept turning pages to find out how it would all end.” Lena Nelson Dooley, award-winning, best-selling author of over 30 books.

“A sweet western romance with good pacing of relationship development. I appreciated the surprising twist!” Janet Chester, author and co-author of 32 fiction and non-fiction books.

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WHEN THE COWBOY RIDES AWAY

by Molly Noble Bull 

I spent part of my growing up years on a cattle ranch in South Texas much like the one mentioned in my new western historical, When the Cowboy Rides Away. Scroll down, read the first chapter and let me know what you think. 


 When the Cowboy Rides Away 


Chapter One

Southern Texas

Early May 1880

Somebody was coming.

Maggie Gallagher slowed her sorrel mare. A small dust cloud hung over the North pasture like a puff of smoke. As she continued to eye the trail of sand and dust, it grew larger.

She glanced back at her younger sister. “Hurry up, Sarah. A rider’s headed this way. See if you can get ole Short Legs to trot.”

The little red-haired girl covered a yawn with the back of her hand. “I said I was coming.”

“Well, can you get that pony of yours to move a little faster? We need to go on out to the cemetery, leave our flowers, and rush right home. A caller will probably be waiting for us at the house when we get back.”

The main house was over a mile from the ranch cemetery and a mere twenty miles from the Gulf of Mexico—and it was almost always windy there. In fact wind and South Texas were like many married couples—together, but sometimes fighting.

The morning breeze felt cool on Maggie’s face, but that wouldn’t last long. By noon the temperature could reach 100 degrees. Her aunt often said that South Texas was the only spot on earth where the wind could be hot, even in the shade.

She loosened the bow under her chin and pushed back her blue-flowered bonnet. She might as well sit back in the saddle and enjoy herself. It was obvious Sarah was in no hurry.

Maggie thought about the dust cloud she’d seen. She wasn’t expecting visitors. But since company appeared to be on the way, she hoped it was Roger. He’d said he might ride into town. On the way back to his place, he often stopped by the Gallagher Ranch to leave Maggie the mail he picked up for her, and she was hoping for a letter from Aunt Violet.

***

He’d watered his horse in a creek with only a trickle of water in it and crossed a bridge. Now, Alex Lancaster guided his black stallion through thick brush, leaving a trail of dust and sand behind. He had to find Dee. Until he did, nothing else mattered.

But his horse needed rest. The animal wouldn’t hold up much longer without it, and he’d pushed him relentlessly since he rode north from the border, stopping at creeks and lakes when he found them, sleeping and then moving on again.

Now he wasn’t sure exactly where he was. The entry gate said Ranch Headquarters, One Mile, but it didn’t include the name of the ranch.

He thought the ranch he was searching for was at least fifty or so miles north of here, but as long as he was in the area, he might as well stop and check. At the least he could water his horse again, and maybe the ranch owner would give him directions.

Alex could barely see the outline of a two-story house in the distance, but that was enough to keep him moving forward. He would talk to the folks at the headquarters, cool off for a while, and then head out and keep going until he found her.

But would she let him explain what happened? Would Dee be able to forgive him?

Alex blinked, sucking in his breath. Would he ever forgive himself?

***

Maggie looked back. Sarah kicked her pony with the heels of her black boots, and the paint horse broke into a light trot. At ten Sarah Ann Gallagher was eleven years younger than Maggie. Yet she still wasn’t as comfortable on a horse as Maggie had been at six, nor was she as handy in the kitchen.

Maggie glanced at the clump of spring flowers clutched in Sarah’s hand. The bouquet looked slightly wilted despite the colorful blossoms. “Sarah, don’t drop your flowers.”

“I won’t.”

“Good. We’ll need them if we expect to put some on each of the graves.”

Turning her attention from Sarah, Maggie saw that the dust cloud was bigger now. She squinted for a better look. Was she imagining things, or was that a rider on a black horse? Roger didn’t own a black horse as far as she knew. Whoever was coming sure wasn’t him.

***

Alex wished he’d bought a straw hat before heading north; his felt one made his head feel even hotter. Sweat poured down his forehead. He pulled out a white cloth and wiped his face and neck, but it wasn’t so easy to wipe away memories of what happened in Brownsville, Texas.

He could still see Dee in her white wedding dress and veil, standing beside him in front of God, Pastor Garza, and a few other people. The joy he felt at Dee’s cottage in Brownsville on their wedding day would have lasted a lifetime if the pastor had been a real one instead of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Joe Garza was no more a man of God than Alex was a millionaire.

Alex knew that common-law marriages were legal in Texas because of the lack of preachers on the frontier, so in the eyes of the law, Alex and Dee were married. But Dee would never be satisfied with anything less than a Christian marriage; neither would Alex.

Alex was no lawman, but he’d thought he was a good judge of character—until Garza robbed a bank in Brownsville the day after the wedding. That was when Alex learned the truth about Joe Garza. Alex got so riled up when he discovered that Joe only pretended to be a minister, the bank robbery was the last straw in the hat. Alex had to go after him—lawman or not—and bring the crook to justice.

His jaws firmed just thinking about it. He’d trusted the man and encouraged Dee to trust him. But plainly their marriage wasn’t legal in the true sense. Once he realized that, he’d followed the fake preacher-turned-outlaw across the Rio Grande River.

Unknown to Garza, Alex hid in the brush while Garza buried the money. Later, after Alex reburied it, he searched the streets of the Mexican village for Garza. But he didn’t find him until that night when the outlaw came out of a cantina.

Alex rubbed the small scar on his chin as he recalled that fateful night.

Lively music had blared from inside the Cantina. A soft glow came from the lamps that lined the front of the white structure. Garza, in ragged trousers and wearing a wide sombrero, held a bottle in one hand. He’d stumbled around, no doubt from too much whiskey. Then he turned, saw Alex, and threw the bottle at him. Alex ducked. Garza pulled a knife from his belt. A fight followed. Alex’s nose was bloodied, but he avoided the knife except for a small cut on his chin.

The next thing Alex knew, he and Garza were incarcerated. Alex was thankful they were put in different cells and later in different prisons; otherwise, one or both of them might not have survived three years in a Mexican jail.

Alex had wanted to write to Dee while he was in prison, to explain everything and let her know he intended to return to her. But he wasn’t allowed to write Dee so much as one letter. Inmates in Mexican jails had no rights, not even American prisoners who were innocent. Now more than ever he had to find Dee and make amends.

Alex squinted straight ahead. The house was a little closer now but still some distance away. It stood on a rise and looked shiny-white in the blinding Texas sun. He wanted it to be Dee’s home, but it wasn’t, not this far south. In any case, Alex sensed that he had another problem. Someone was watching him.

He gazed around and didn’t see anybody. Still, he felt that somebody was out there. He knew ranchers didn’t take kindly to strangers on their land; whoever owned the white house wouldn’t either. He could get shot for trespassing, especially after nosing around that cabin.

Alex entered a plowed field. A feeling of foreboding shot through him. He pulled back slightly on his reins and looked over his shoulder. Had he seen something he shouldn’t have when he rode over and took a look at the wire fence and then the cabin? Was he being followed now? Or was he just spooked from spending three long years behind bars?

***

The black horse and rider Maggie saw earlier seemed to vanish in a burst of cutting wind that whipped the sandy soil all around them. Blinded for a moment, Maggie wiped her eyes and brushed away grains of the whitish sand sticking to her lips. As she opened her mouth to remind Sarah not to hold the stems so tightly, a gunshot reverberated off to their left.

Both horses shied. Sarah grabbed her saddle horn to keep from falling off.

“What was…what was that?" Sarah asked in a shaky voice.

Maggie jerked around in the saddle, gazing off in the direction from which the rifle blast came. Dust hovered just above the brush-line.

“Don’t worry.” Maggie tried to feign a calm response. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”

She wouldn’t tell her little sister they might have plenty to worry about. The shot came from the same direction as the dust cloud. If somebody was shooting on Gallagher land, Maggie wanted to know about it. It appeared the gun was fired from the other side of a group of small trees.

One of their ranch hands plowed that part of the ranch yesterday, but Maggie didn’t know who might be there now. The trees obstructed her view.

“It’s probably one of our cowboys shooting at a rattlesnake or something,” Maggie said after a long pause.

She couldn't share with her little sister that the gunman couldn’t be any of their ranch hands. With the exception of an elderly cowboy they called Big Lupe, all their men were working cattle on a different part of the ranch now.

The dust cloud moved away at a rapid speed.

“What’s happening?” Sarah demanded in an unsteady voice.

“Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Maggie was tempted to grab hold of the reins Sarah held and lope back to the house, pulling her sister and the pony behind her. But someone could be hurt out there and in need of help. She couldn’t leave without knowing.

“Why don’t you stay here?” Maggie suggested. “I’ll ride over there and see what’s going on.”

Sarah’s eyes widened and her face paled. “Please don’t! Do you expect me to stay here all alone?”

“I thought you could for a minute while—”

Sarah shook her head. “No! Take me with you.”

Maggie took a deep breath and released it. “All right, but stay behind me.”

They hadn’t traveled more than fifty feet through the tall grass when Sarah trotted Short Legs up beside her.

“Maggie,” she whispered, “do you really think somebody shot a rattlesnake out there?”

Maggie hesitated then decided to speak the truth. “No, I don’t. And don’t you make a sound.”

Sarah whimpered. But Maggie didn’t have time to stop and comfort her.

They skirted the trees; then Maggie saw something, though she wasn’t sure what. A dark object lay in the plowed field beyond the tall grass. It looked too big to be a coyote or a newborn calf.

“What is it?” Sarah whispered.

“I don’t know yet.”

The moment she said it, Maggie knew that what she saw was a man in dark-colored clothes.

Sarah gasped as if she came to the same realization. “Is he dead?”

“I’m not sure.”

Maggie’s heart pounded so loud she imagined Sarah could hear it. She knew better than to become involved in unknown situations, especially with her little sister at her side. Hadn’t her late parents warned her time and again about something like this? But as a Christian she couldn’t leave a wounded man out there in the open. Without attention the poor stranger could die.

Maggie dismounted slowly, handing her reins to Sarah. “You stay right here. And don’t try to follow me over there when I’m not looking, hear?”

Sarah nodded.

Maggie’s hands shook so much she had difficulty unhooking her small quirt from her saddle horn. If only she’d thought to bring a rifle.

Taking control, she gripped the thin leather whip firmly. She’d only planned to be away from the ranch house for a short time, and her late father’s pistol and rifle were heavy and burdensome. She’d left them behind. She would never leave the house unarmed again.

The braided leather quirt wasn’t much, but it was the only weapon she had. She felt slightly more confident and crept forward then glanced back at her sister.

“If anything bad happens,” Maggie said, “I mean real bad, I want you to hightail it back to the house and ring the bell. Promise?”

“I promise.”

“I’m counting on you, Sarah Ann.”

Terror rose in Maggie’s throat at the thought of what she might find if she moved any closer. After what happened that day five years earlier, approaching any man she didn’t know tied her insides in knots. And there was no way of knowing if this man was dead or alive—or dangerous.

Oh, she could play the part of a secure person; her role in life demanded it. She was responsible for rearing Sarah and Jon Anthony, her late sister’s child. But inside where no one could see, Maggie was soft like melted butter.

She needed to lean on her faith and pray. Somehow, simply knowing that God had promised to be with her always gave her the courage to continue.

Maggie turned back toward the man on the ground and started walking toward him again. Her heart slammed against her ribs with each step. Out of the corner of her eye, she combed the pasture for any strange movements that might indicate a gunman lurking in the area.

A flock of doves fed on the ground nearby. She took another step, and they scattered. Maggie jumped as if she hadn’t expected it to happen. The rustle and white flash of their wings when they soared upward startled her a second time. She looked around cautiously before going on.

Blood. Maggie gasped, digesting the situation. The sight of blood always made her queasy, and the man’s left shoulder was almost covered with it.

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