New Release -- THE FLIGHT OF LYDIA GRIMM by Richard Prosch

Jo Harper Book 9

Jo Harper and her sidekick, Frog Beemer, are on their way to the movie in small-town Willowby, Wyoming. Beautiful Hollywood heroine, high-flying Lydia Grimm, is Jo’s role model—and she’s sat through Lydia’s latest movie, Wings Aflame! countless times. The only thing that can stop Jo and Frog from sitting through it again is the real thing—wings aflame—right over their heads!

Fantasy becomes a flaming reality on the Wyoming range as a burning airplane falls from the sky, and Jo and Frog grab their horses and ride to the scene of the disaster to help.

But when Frog returns to Willowby for help, Jo is held at gunpoint by the German pilot who has survived the crash!

All bets are off when Jo learns that her captor is involved with the very star she idolizes—Lydia Grimm! Lydia’s in danger, but it’s up to Jo to figure out why—and she’s determined to get to the bottom of this deadly mystery.

Will Frog return with help in time to save Jo? Can Jo unravel the mystery she’s caught up in? With a madman on the loose, Jo has no choice but to join in THE FLIGHT OF LYDIA GRIMM…

EXCERPT:

     “I’d swear that was the sound of a gasoline engine,” said Frog. “Listen! There it is again.”

     “It is a gas engine, but it’s no car,” said Jo, grinning.

     She pointed to the sky.

     “An airplane!” said Frog.

     It was extremely rare to see an airplane in the clear sky above Willowby, but to see one at night, just after she’d been talking about flying, was an exciting change of pace from a typical weekend night. Jo watched the dimly lit shadow putter along the blue horizon. Jo couldn’t help but think how lucky she was to be growing up in such a time as this, when, after centuries of trying, people flew through the air like birds.

     And just like that, something that sounded like a loud firecracker went off above them and the airplane motor started to whine.

     “It’s coming down! The airplane is coming down,” said Jo, pointing at a spark of light falling out of the purple night toward the dark shadows of nearby Autograph Rock. “She’s on fire!”

     “She?”

     “Hurry! Grab a horse and let’s ride!”

GET THE ENTIRE JO HARPER COLLECTION! Books 1-4 are available in the FINDING THE SKY set, and ON SOLID GROUND contains books 5-8! You will want them all!

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Fabulous Five: Five novels for Middle Grade Readers -- Boxed Set Only 99 Cents

THE PHANTOM RANGER AND THE SKATEBOARD GANG—James And Livia Reasoner

The Texas Rangers’ job is to protect, so when Ranger Jackson’s great-great-great granddaughter needs help, he reports for duty! But how can Codi explain her ancestor’s ghost to her history project partner—and her dad?

Waiting For a Comet (Jo Harper Book 1)—Richard Prosch

Halley’s Comet brings a surprise Jo Harper never expected! Action, humor, and real life history combine for an exciting mystery about one girl’s summertime quest for family, friendship, and justice on the windburnt Wyoming range at the dawn of a new century.

Racing a Dog Star (Jo Harper Book 2)—Richard Prosch

Flung headlong into the Dog Days of summer by multiple mysteries that may or may not be related, Jo Harper and Frog Carpenter face them together and solve them! In this sequel to WAITING FOR A COMET, Jo, Frog and sure-shootin' lady Constable Abby Drake return for another visit to the exciting town of Willowby, Wyoming in the hot, dry summer of 1910.

The Apache and the Pale Face Soldiers (The Saga of Indian Em’ly Book 1)—Sara Barnard

With no one to lean on but each other and the fragile balance between the Apache and the soldiers irreparably upset, an Indian war begins. Knocks Down and Cactus Flower must make their way as children of The People, the Comanche,  in the pale face world – pale faces who have now become the enemy.

On the Colorado Trail (The Saga of Indian Em’ly Book 2)—Sara Barnard

After a dangerous failed attempt at escape by Knocks Down and his sister that leaves Cactus Flower injured, can Knocks Down bring himself to trust the soldier, Pale Face Joe? His life depends on it, and his little sister's does, as well!

Now Available

#NewRelease--DOGBREAD AND DIAMONDS by Richard Prosch--#Giveaway

Just about any small town, ranch, or farm has its share of special desserts, pastries, and secret recipes. When I was a kid in Nebraska, the main street Bakery had its dusted, frosted wares on display by 6:00 am and, if they weren't sold out by 9:30 whatever was left was hard as a rock.

You had to get there early.

If you did, you were more richly rewarded than the Divine Right kings of Europe or the ancient Egyptian Pharaohs. Long Johns, Bizmarks, Apple Fritters: these were the jewels of the plains, warm and glistening with a sugar glaze.  These were riches beyond compare.

Remembering those mornings, digging into a grease-stained brown paper sack, made me wonder about Willowby, the fictional Wyoming town where Jo Harper lives. Was there a proper bakery back there in 1911, or were the breakfast treats of Jo's time more intimate, as befits a fledgling western settlement?

Before I married Gina, I met her Grandma Frida, a woman known well in her community for the pastries she made.  Delivered in bulk to work crews, field hands and the ladies at the bank--free of charge--Frida's fried doughnuts were the stuff of legend.  And the recipe unknown.

I decided that's the kind of breakfast Jo, Frog and Abby Drake would enjoy best. Home made, hand delivered --in the same brown paper sack I remember, with the same sensual overload.

Jewels of the plains. Diamonds in the rough.

Stolen diamonds is where this story begins...

BLURB

In the wild west, decades before Willowby, Wyoming was founded, Stink Carmichael robbed a stage coach of the famous Dakota Diamonds and was never heard from again. When Jo Harper and her best friend Frog find the loot in a hidden cellar, old secrets come out and greed can't help but rear its ugly head. When Frog disappears and Jo is accused of pilfering the diamonds herself, things can't get any worse. But Constable Abby Drake has a few secrets of her own and a sack of warm, flaky breakfast rolls might just be the key to saving the day.

EXCERPT

    "We shouldn't be here, Frog," said Jo Harper, her lace-up boot slipping on the next step down. "It's muddy."

    "It's damp," said Frog. “And since when have you ever in your whole life been worried about a little mud?"

    A cold draft swept up the slippery wood plank steps from the underground darkness below, bringing with it a smell of mildew and grime that threatened to close Jo's throat. 

    A grim welcome from the hidden cellar deep underneath the Beemer mansion in Willowby, Wyoming.  

    "It's not mud I'm worried about," said Jo, quickly cupping her hand around the wick of the flickering candle she carried. "This is the longest set of steps I've ever seen. It's falling and breaking my neck that worries me. Then who's going to bail you out of trouble?"

    "Ha-ha. Ain't you funny? You oughtta be in the movies, Jo."

    Again, eleven-year old Frog Beemer dropped away down into the dark, fearlessly taking the stairs two at a time.

    Jo waited for him to say something.

    "Frog?" she said, ears straining, eyes peering past the dim circle of candle light.  Jo willed her leg forward into space, sliding her toe out, over the worn edge of the step. "Frog, where are you?"

    She put her weight down on her right leg.

    A low squeal, like the settling of timber came from the hole ahead. 

    Timber. Or something else. Maybe something alive.

Leave a comment for a chance at a free copy of Richard Prosch's Dogbread and Diamonds.

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Behind Redbuds and Bullets

I read Great Expectations for the first time when I was a freshman in high school. My English teacher, Nancy Brooks, who routinely channeled Eve Arden (Our Miss Brooks) in fictional name and temperament did a great job bringing the characters to life for us, and the weird relationship between Pip, Estella, and Miss Havisham haunts me to this day.

Jo Harper read Great Expectations in 1911, and this fact was the only thing I had to go on when I started writing her sixth adventure. I didn't know it would involve uprooting Jo for the first time, flinging her across the midwest on a tumultuous train ride, pitting her against dangerous adversaries in a gritty urban environment, and ultimately involving an old character who just wouldn’t stay out of the picture. It was exactly the kind of writing experience a writer dreams about --sitting down without a clue and letting the story tell itself.

Redbuds have always been sort of symbolic to Missouri. I had never seen the small trees before visiting Gina there in 1986. Blossoming purple in spring, they are ubiquitous and one of the few flowering trees that doesn't cause my son to immediately start sneezing. Not so for everybody. Like the bullets in the title, the little flowers look innocent enough but can pack quite a punch for some.

So after putting the Dickens novel in her hands, I knew Jo had to end up in Missouri. But what could make a headstrong girl, one tied firmly to her Wyoming roots, leave her friends?  In Jo's case, only a sense of family duty.

And with that, I was off and typing.

Redbuds and Bullets takes a few chances that previous Jo Harper adventures don't take. The story puts Jo more alone than ever before. It tests her metal away from the humorous distractions of Frog or the tough security of Abby Drake. Not only that, but the fate of strangers is directly under Jo's control. It's not a responsibility she takes lightly.

Finally, if you're familiar with Great Expectations, I'll invite you to compare and contrast it with Redbuds and Bullets. Find the similarities, the differences, and see if you can recognize a couple Dickensian Easter eggs. Some were intentional, but some surprised me even as they poured into the keyboard.

That's the kind of fun that keeps writing Jo Harper stories fresh for me. I'd like you to come along for the ride!

After growing up on a Nebraska farm, Richard Prosch worked as a professional writer, artist, and teacher in Wyoming, South Carolina, and Missouri. His western crime fiction captures the fleeting history and lonely frontier stories of his youth where characters aren’t always what they seem, and the windburned landscapes are filled with swift, deadly danger. Read more at www.RichardProsch.com

#NewRelease--Redbuds and Bullets (Jo Harper Book 6) by Richard Prosch -- #Giveaway

Be sure and leave a comment for Richard Prosch to enter the drawing for a free ebook of REDBUDS and BULLETS.

BLURB

Thirteen year old Jo Harper's trip to attend the reading of her mysterious uncle's will isn't welcome news to everybody in Willowby, Wyoming, and with the notorious Casper Brothers on the loose, the spring of 1911 isn't the best time to steam across the wide open west.

But with great expectations and grim determination, Jo hurtles into adventure, learning along the way who her friends are, and who wants her out of the way for good.

Blossoming danger! Dark captivity! And wildflowers galore!

EXCERPT

Jo's face flushed hot. She was the poor country hick without a ticket.

"I said, is there a problem?" said the conductor with a gruff voice.

"I'm afraid I've lost my ticket," said Jo.

"Lost? Or never had one to begin with?"

"No, I had it when I got aboard."

"I doubt that very much."

"Where's the other conductor? He knows. He saw it. When I told him I was going to Kansas City."

"Other conductor? What are you talking about? I'm the conductor on this train. There is no other!"

What was going on here? Jo's mind was awhirl. There had been another conductor. Jo was sure of it.

Now, this conductor reached down and pulled her up by her shirt collar. "Pick up your hat and satchel," he said. "No ticket, no passage."

"Wait!" said Jo.

"I'm sorry, kid," said the man, now clamping a meaty hand on Jo's arm. "Off the train."

Off the train?

"But I've got to go to Kansas City," said Jo. "My aunt is waiting for me."

"Don't tell me no sob stories. Let's go."

Easily twice Jo's size and weight, it was easy for the conductor to push her down the aisle toward the back door. When they got there, he pulled open the exit, and a wall of wind hit them both.

The train clickety-clacked along the tracks and a new fear rushed into Jo's head.

The man was going to throw her off the train, all right. While it was still moving!

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PPB New Release -- Finding the Sky: The Jo Harper Collection by RIchard Prosch -- Giveaway!

Richard Prosch is giving away one free ecopy of Finding the Sky: The Jo Harper Collection to one lucky person who comments, so be sure and leave your contact information.  This is a great collection for old and young alike.

BLURB

Twelve-year old Jo Harper thought 1910 would be another boring year in the Wyoming range town of Willowby, Wyoming. Then tough-talkin' pistol-shootin' Abby Drake came to town and made Jo a deputy law and order woman...

Collecting four exciting Jo Harper novellas, Finding the Sky pits Jo and her friends against cattle rustlers, outlaws, a bank robber and a tinhorn gambler. With explosions of fire, flaming arrows, and a wild ride in a Model-T, Jo's introspective, early 20th Century life will never again be the same. 

EXCERPT

     Laughing and squealing, squinting into the sun, Jo didn’t see where she was going until it was too late. She hit the stranger full on, and bounced down, hard, on the boardwalk.

     Pain shot through Jo’s arm, and she cussed out loud, rolled onto her back, and kept her eyes squeezed shut against the tears.

     Funny bone!

     “Land sakes! Ain’t you a fireball,” said a woman’s voice.

     Holding her elbow tight, Jo opened her eyes.

     Scuffed leather boots, denim pants, a belt cinched tight around a thick middle, and a worn holster stuffed with iron. The woman’s gnarly bronze hand snatched up a big hat from where it had landed on the boardwalk and plopped it back onto a braided gray scalp.

     The face was impossibly old, a wind-burned landscape of chasms and puckered buttes with one eye, focused and alive, blazing over all, and the second one unmoving and made of glass. At her collar, a red neckerchief flapped in the wind “Name’s Abigail Drake,” said the woman. “And I wouldn’t take unkindly to an apology.”

     The breath caught in Jo’s throat. 

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PPB New Release -- Shooting the Moon by RIchard Prosch

Richard Prosch is giving away one free ecopy of Shooting the Moon to one lucky person who comments, so be sure and leave your contact information.

BLURB
Jo Harper looked forward to the Willowby, Wyoming fall festival all year, but will an explosive bank robbery blow up her career as a law woman?  Going it alone under the harvest moon, the twelve-year old deputy constable will question everything she stands for and push her skills to the limit to save her friends from enemies old and new.

A fiery explosion! A jail break! A ghost town! Jo Harper's most dangerous adventure is here in this exciting sequel to ROPING A PLANET.

EXCERPT

October, 1910

    By four o'clock on Friday afternoon, Willowby, Wyoming's Fall Festival was well underway with a jillion people filling the town square. Twelve-year-old Jo Harper had looked forward to the yearly mix of farmer's market, circus carnival, and musical variety show for eleven months, 29 days and three hours. She just naturally kept track of the time. It wasn't like she was counting or anything!

    For a block in every direction, the brick-laid streets of Broadway and Main were closed off to automobile and horse traffic, and decorations were everywhere. Cornhusks tied in tall shocks with colorful ribbons, pumpkins piled high, and clean straw bedding made the streets come alive. Tables stocked with scores of winter goodies led the way to and from a central pine-board bandstand where The Sleepy Settlers would pick up their fiddles and rosin up their bowstrings for a dance on Saturday night. Acres of cozy quilts and thick blankets hung next to jars of fruits, vegetables, and canned meats. The moms traded coats, hats, and mittens. Dads traded jack-knives and know-it-all opinions.

    The sky was as blue as Jo could remember, and though Willowby had recently seen a dusting of snow, it wasn't winter quite yet. There were still a few leaves on the trees and most of the people at the festival had on light flannel jackets or simple yarn sweaters. Jo brushed a speck of dust off her leather jacket, walnut brown with fringes. Normally, she pulled her long black hair into a sturdy braid, but today she let it fly every which way in the autumn wind. She wore a green plaid shirt, tan corduroy trousers, and high lace-up boots. On her jacket, she'd pinned a polished deputy constable's star, but nobody noticed it.

    Probably they just pretended not to notice it.

    Perched on a bench beside the Congregational Church ice-cream stand, directly in front of the brick bank building, Frog Carpenter was dressed in his usual red flannel shirt, overalls and cap. Jo figured she wouldn't see him wear a coat until mid-winter. Not because his adopted parents, the Beemers, couldn't afford one. There were few families in Willowby as wealthy as the Beemers. It's just that Frog rarely slowed down long enough for the cold to touch him.

    "I've already et my supper and dessert," he said, cheeks full of chocolate cake. "And my noon-time dinner was hours ago. What do I call it when we sit down to eat tonight? I can't call it lunch. And I can't have two suppers. Can I?"

    "It's eaten, not et, and I'd call it a vulgar display of over-indulgence," said Jo, practicing her best high-falootin' vocabulary.

    "A booger's play of what?"

    "A vulgar display," said Jo.

    "Whatever that means," said Frog, washing down the cake with a fast swallow of bottled lemon-lime soda. "You're just sore because I got the last hunk of cake." Frog held his plate close to his chest, protective of the small bite that remained.

    Jo sniffed loudly. "Am not," she said, real snooty-like. Well, really. Her, angry with him? Over a piece of cake? The very idea.

    Frog was eleven years old; but next month, Jo would turn thirteen. She was certainly above being envious of Mrs. Beemer's German Chocolate Cake.

    Good as it was. And, it was rrrreeeeeaaally good.

    "Heard your dad was walking around on his stilts?" said Frog.

    Every year, Cecil Harper dressed up and strapped the stilts to his feet for the festival. Usually, Jo was embarrassed by the clown act. But this time, it might be a nice distraction.

    "He's right over there," said Jo, pointing straight into the crowd.

    "Where?"

    When Frog turned his head, Jo scooped up the remains of his cake and stuffed it into her mouth.

    "Ha!"

    Frog stared at his empty plate with surprise. "Did you just steal my cake?"

    "Who's stealing what?" said a familiar voice, and Jo jumped up with a smile.

    "Hi, Abby," she said.

    "Jo stole my cake," said Frog. "Arrest her."

    Willowby's tough lady constable stepped past a pair of bearded homesteaders and stopped beside Frog's bench. She was dressed in her official best, a tan colored buckskin outfit, black string tie, and white Stetson hat. Around her waist, she buckled the weathered leather gunbelt she'd had since her days in Buffalo Bill's Wild West show, and she carried an old-fashioned black-powder Colt Paterson five-shooter in her holster.

    "Hope you two are enjoying yourselves," said Abby, with a wide smile that emphasized the deep grooves time had whittled around her eyes and cheeks. Happy grooves when she smiled, but grooves laid in by anger and sadness too. With more than sixty years living and working in the West, Abigail Drake had seen it all. She'd been a trick-shot and a tracker, a bounty-hunter and a judge. Once, when she’d been careless with a firearm, she’d paid for it by losing an eye. She taught Jo that one serious mistake was all it took to change your outlook on everything.

    "Hope you two are being careful," said Abby.

    Jo thought Abby's glass eye was a good reminder to always be careful. But why had she mentioned it today of all days?

    "Is something wrong, Abby?"

    "Maybe." She put an arm around each of them and led Jo and Frog into the intersection.   "Somebody I saw in the crowd. A man I thought I'd never see again. Seeing this owlhoot here, today of all days, got me to thinking.” Abby pointed at the Willowby Savings and Loan building. "Do me a favor and keep watch on the bank."

    Jo's heart skipped a beat.

    The bank?

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