The Rugged Alleghenies, A White Warrior, Beautiful Scots-Irish Healer, Unrequited Love—Requited, Charges of Witchcraft, Vindictive Ghost, Lost Treasure, Murderous Thieves, Deadly Pursuit, Hangman’s Noose Waiting…Kira, Daughter of the Moon
Available now at The Wild Rose Press and
A beautiful Scots-Irish healer in the rugged Alleghenies finds herself accused of witchcraft. With the terror of the French and Indian War fresh in her mind, can Kira love a white warrior?
Logan McCutcheon returns to colonial Virginia after seven years in the hands of Shawnee Indians. But was he really a captive, as everybody thinks? He looks and fights like a warrior, and seems eager to return to those he calls friends and family.
Kira McClure has waited for Logan all those years, passing herself off as odd to keep suitors at bay––and anyone else from getting too close. Now that he's back, he seems to be the only person capable of protecting her from the advances of Josiah Campbell and accusations of witchcraft. And to defend the settlers against a well-organized band of murderous thieves.
Set in the Alleghenies of colonial Virginia, Kira, Daughter of the Moon is an adventure romance with Celtic and Native American flavors.
“My secret in exchange for yours.”
Tantalizing. He was drawing her into his snare, but she couldn’t resist asking, “How do you know I’ve a secret?”
“To begin with, you’re hiding in a tree. What from, a wild beast?”
“Near enough. You.”
He smiled. “Was I to think you a large red bird, or overlook you entirely?”
Drawing her remaining shreds of dignity around her like a mantle, she said, “This isn’t oneof my best hiding places.”
“Indeed? Where are the others?”
“That would be telling.”
The strengthening breeze tossed the branches around them as he considered. “You never could keep secrets from me, Cricket. I’ll discover them and you.”
An assertion she found both disturbing and oddly heartening.
His lips curved as if the deed were already done. “Why were you hiding? Am I so very frightening?”
“Oh––I feared you were some sort of warrior.”
The humor faded from his eyes. “I am.”
*Old family musket, pouch and powder horn. Image by my mom Pat Churchman
Many stories lie at the heart of Kira, Daughter of the Moon, but the beginning emerged while I was writing Through the Fire, my award-winning historical romance novel with a The Last of the Mohican’s flavor. I hadn’t planned a sequel to Through the Fire, but vivid dreams of a plot line connected with that story came to me, and not only while I was asleep. Characters and scenes, or snatches of scenes, also flashed across my mind during waking hours. Although the best place for musing on a story dwells in that dreamy realm between wake and sleep.
I’m not sure how much time passed with me mentally filing away snatches of imagery before I actually began writing what grew into Kira, Daughter of the Moon. But these glimpses of a related novel led me to include certain elements in Through the Fire that later surfaced in Kira, Daughter of the Moon, including a treasure I can’t go into without giving away too much. And dead doesn’t necessarily mean gone. And I do mean dead, not the ‘you thought they were dead but weren’t really kind of stuff.’ I’m talking ghostly here.
No, you don’t have to read Through the Fire first to appreciate Kira, Daughter of the Moon, as the story is written to stand alone, but it would certainly enhance your experience. You may ask why it took me so long to complete this novel. Because I struggled with various portions, most importantly the ending–rather critical. I also originally wrote it entirely from the heroine, Kira’s, point of view, then went back and labored to add Logan’s. I should add that Logan is terrific. One of my all-time favorite heroes and a joy to work with. Keep in touch, dude.
Back to the saga of writing and rewriting ‘Kira’ – a journey I undertook annually, usually in the spring when the story is set. Gradually, the novel took form, but that ending still daunted me until, finally, I clearly envisioned how it went without lingering doubts.
Nearly drove me insane getting it right. Who knows, maybe I am bonkers. “Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.” ~E. L. Doctorow
In this historical romance novel, the unique heroine, Kira McClure, is her own person at a time when women were expected to conform to societal expectations. Keeping her mouth shut, marrying young (19 was considered old for a virgin) and aligning herself to a man from a family her guardians approve (clan loyalties and resentments lingered) is not what Kira has in mind. Outspoken, independent, and odd, even intentionally so to keep unwanted suitors at bay, she hopes her girlhood crush, Shawnee captive Logan McCutcheon, will return. Plus, she’s haunted by her Irish Catholic mother’s mistreatment by Protestant Scot’s settlers. Her wariness of others reaches a fever-pitch when it comes to Indian attacks. Terrified beyond all reason, according to her guardian, she has a series of hiding places near the homestead and in the surrounding woods. A nature lover, she’s also a gifted healer which sets her apart from others in the close-knit community. To some, Kira’s an angel, to others a suspected witch. And that dark cloud grows.
Logan McCutcheon first appears in historical romance novel Through the Fire as the teenage cousin of the heroine, Rebecca Elliot. Taken captive and adopted by a powerful warrior, he’s last seen reluctantly accepting his fate and yearning for freedom. Missed by his aunt (not so much by his cantankerous uncle) he returns to the settlement to discover Kira up a tree—literally. Taken in by his relations after she’s orphaned, Kira frustrates the Houston family at every turn in their efforts to bring her up respectably. Aunt Alice turns to Logan in desperation because he was ‘always so good with the lass.’ But Kira isn’t keen on the idea. She suspects this skilled frontiersman is actually a renegade who may betray her and the community to the Indians. Who Logan is and why he’s returned is a mystery, gradually revealed. Handsome, witty, he’s one of the most likable heroes I’ve ever written, apart from that McCutcheon temper, of course.