Monthly Archives: December 2020

Christmas Magic Lives!

Well…It’s been quite a year, hasn’t it? No one can deny that 2020 was a tough one. In many ways, for many people, it was a life-changing year. In our home, we’ve lost several beloved pets this year, and many tears have been shed. But the human faction has held strong. We’re all healthy, and where sickness threatened, we came through with flying colors. The old adage is true. What doesn’t kill you will actually make you stronger. And, though sometimes it’s hard to see the good that comes from the pain, I have always believed that things happen for a reason. 

This is a magical time of year for me. It’s a time of family and love and celebration for our many blessings. It is made no less magical for the challenges we suffered as a family. In fact, I believe the magic was in the ability to move beyond it all and embrace our traditions to affirm the healing power of love.  Thank you all for hanging with me this year. Thanks for reading my books. I’m glad you’re in my posse.  I can’t promise I won’t occasionally be like crazy Aunt Ethel with a dog in her purse and false eyelashes floating in her soup, but I’m secure in the knowledge that YOU GET ME. (You poor sap!)  

Anyway… That’s a long way to go to tell you that I count you among my many blessings. As we finish out a truly challenging year together, I wanted to say, “May your day be rich in love and joy. And may the coming year embrace you in a happy cocoon.”  

Talk to you soon! xx Sam

Would you like to keep up with my writing and releases? Join my Newsletter!! It’s quick and easy and you get a fun novella just for joining! https://samcheever.com/newsletter/

City Mouse Meets Country Mouse — Murder Ensues

It’s an age-old battle–country folk vs city folk–verdant hillside vs concrete jungle–Pickup vs Prius. City folk think all country folk are simple-minded bumpkins. Country folk believe all city folk are rats living in a maze. But some things transcend culture. Some things spoil any lifestyle.

Murder is one of those things…

Hal’s younger brother has been banished to Deer Hollow because of his proclivity for getting into trouble. Hal’s parents are hoping he’ll take the kid under his wing and straighten him out. But Asher Amity has a knack for finding trouble, and it doesn’t take him long to find it in Deer Hollow. When Asher steps into a steaming pile of murder and treachery, Hal and Joey are destined to get dragged into the mess with him. Who knew how dangerous babysitting could be?

Grab a copy of Reluctant Bumpkin today!

Here’s a little taste of Reluctant Bumpkin…

The sun was high and bright and the day had turned hot. I left Caphy to run free, the leash dragging the ground in case I needed to catch her.

She and her snotty sister explored every tree we passed, teasing the squirrels that chittered angrily from the highest branches.

Unbeknownst to the chirping rodents, LaLee could actually climb the trees if she wanted to. She’d nearly caught one of the squirrels who’d been taunting the pitty from the distant heights of a particularly impressive walnut tree.

Even worse, the cat ignored my shrieking for her to leave the hapless creature alone as only a cat could. After a suitable period of time had passed to prove she was doing it on her own terms, LaLee finally descended the tree, sailing gracefully from branch to branch until she landed lightly in the dirt.

Felines. You couldn’t live with them, and you couldn’t return them for a refund.

I settled into the walk, blissfully inhaling the sweet, hot air and enjoying the pleasant trills and flutterings of a multitude of birds.

The trees provided enough shade to make the heat bearable, but adequate sun to keep the Grimm’s fairytale feeling at bay.

We followed familiar paths that wound up familiar hills and into familiar ravines. After an hour of exploring, the distant sound of the river told me we’d probably better turn back, or I was going to lose one of my frisky companions to the enticement of a cool swim.

The currents in that part of the river were treacherous, and I’d always made it a point to keep Caphy away from it. She got into enough trouble in the pond in front of my house.

As if I’d conjured her from my thoughts, Caphy started barking from somewhere over the next hill. LaLee had been sharpening her claws on the rough bark of a walnut tree, but her head came up and the lazy waving of her long tail took on a more energetic tone.

The first tendrils of unease tightened my chest.

“Caphy girl, come!”

Caphy continued to bark, the sound growing increasingly strident.

I hurried toward the hill. “Caphy! Come!”

The pitty usually listened to my “mean voice”. Unless there was something more interesting to keep her attention.

LaLee sprinted along beside me as I started to run. The hill was one of the larger ones in the woods. When I’d topped the incline, I found myself standing on the edge of a ravine, the sides steep and treacherous. I all but slid down the first side and then had to scramble and grasp at roots and saplings to make it up the opposite slope.

My voice was breathless when I called Caphy again. “Caphy, girl. Come!”

Somewhere around the middle of the upward slope, the pibl had gone quiet. Already at the top of the hill, LaLee yowled unhappily and hissed.

Icy fear made me quicken my steps. What if Caphy had run into a coyote? The thought was terrifying. I’d heard too many stories of pets being lured away by seemingly playful coyotes, only to be attacked in numbers once they’d gotten them alone.

“Caphy!” My voice took on a strident shriek as panic took me completely over.

LaLee suddenly shot away on an angry yowl, and I nearly choked to death trying to find the air to scream as I scrabbled for purchase on the slippery ravine wall. “LaLee, no! Caphy!”

I shoved myself the last couple of feet, my heart pounding like a piledriver and my hands bloodied from the fight to climb.

My frantic gaze slipped over the woods that was laid out in front of me. I spotted a low form shooting through the trees, agile and fast.

I cried out, an unformed sound built of pure fear. Had that been a coyote? No…please no.

I started to run, my eyes on the fast-moving form gliding too quickly away from me.

LaLee disappeared into the obscuring branches of a huge evergreen ahead of me. I stepped up my speed, catching my foot in a root and slamming to the ground with a surprised cry.

Ignoring the pain in my knees and palms, I shoved back to my feet and started forward.

Something moved to my right and, before I could see what it was, pain exploded on the side of my head. And the ground roared up to smack me.