Welcome to Mandy's Madhouse
Home of Romance Author
Madeline Baker/Amanda Ashley

Page Updated 1/​14/​12

I'm amazed at the amount of mail I get regarding Mara's story. She was originally supposed to be a minor character in the first Night book, but she managed to show up in the next three as well, and then I thought she should get a book of her own. Her story is still in the works. I had some trouble with it after I finished the first draft, but I think I've got it figured out. Of course, the final say will be with my editor.

THE ENCYCLOPEDIA OF WEIRD WESTERNS
My time travel books are mentioned in this volume.

Some of my favorite quotes

I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by."
Douglas Adams

A room without a book is like a body without a soul.
Cicero

"There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein." Red Smith

"If one cannot enjoy reading a book over and over again, there is no use reading it at all."
Oscar Wilde

The best part about writing is stopping.
Colin Walters

A blank page is God’s way of showing you how hard it is to be God.
Author unknown

Being a writer means you have to do homework for the rest of your life.
Lawrence Kasdan

There are three rules for writing the novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.
W. Somerset Maugham

I'm all in favor of keeping dangerous weapons out of the hands of fools. Let's start with typewriters.
Solomon Short

Writing is not necessarily something to be ashamed of, but do it in private and wash your hands afterwards.
Robert Heinlein

I think it was EB White who said that a bad review can ruin breakfast but it should never ruin lunch or dinner.

I assumed the burden of the profession, which is to write even when you don't want to, don't much like what you are writing, and aren't writing particularly well." Agatha Christie

“There is no such thing as having too many books."
"The man who doesn't read good books has no advantage over the man who can't read them." Mark Twain

I’m reminded of Capote again. A friend once kidded him for sitting all day at a typewriter and writing only one word. Truman drawled, “Yes, but it’s the right word”. Author Unknown.

"Many people hear voices when no-one is there. Some of them are called mad and are shut up in rooms where they stare at the walls all day. Others are called writers and they do pretty much the same thing." -Margaret Chittenden

Writers should be read, but neither seen nor heard.
Daphne du Maurier

When in doubt, have two guys come through the door with guns.
Raymond Chandler

Writers aren't exactly people...they're a whole lot of people trying to be one person.
F. Scott Fitzgerald

Manuscript: something submitted in haste and returned at leisure.
Oliver Herford

Your manuscript is both good and original, but the part that is good is not original and the part that is original is not good.
Samuel Johnson

A classic is something that everybody wants to have read and nobody has
read. Mark Twain

In order to write a book, it is necessary to sit down and write. Therein lies the difficulty. Edward Abbey

"Lied? Of course, I lied. I'm a writer - I give the truth ... scope!"
Geoffrey Chaucer "A Knight's Tale"

From the moment I picked up your book until I laid it down, I was convulsed with laughter. Some day I intend reading it.
Groucho Marx

I am returning to you this otherwise good typing paper because someone has printed gibberish all over it and put your name at the top.
Anonymous English Professor, Ohio University

A good many young writers make the mistake of enclosing a stamped, self-addressed envelope, big enough for the manuscript to come back in. This is too much of a temptation to the editor.
Ring Lardner

My books are water; those of the great geniuses are wine. Everybody drinks water. Mark Twain

Remember that everyone you meet is afraid of something, loves something, and has lost something

Madness takes its toll. Please have exact change.

In fantasy, you can be anything, do anything, have anything.

A lawyer with a briefcase can steal more than 100 men with guns

Don’t worry about the world ending today. It’s already tomorrow in Australia.
Charles Schultz


In The Works. . . . .


Chapter 1


Kadie Andrews eased her car to a stop when she reached the narrow bridge. She wasn’t afraid of heights, or bridges, but the wooden expanse didn’t look like it would hold a VW Bug, let alone her SUV. Still, she had taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way, and now she was lost and very nearly out of gas. Peering through the windshield, she saw what looked like a gas station in the distance.

She had just decided to park the Durango on the side of the road and walk across the bridge when the storm clouds that had been following her for the last few miles decided to release their burden. There was a jagged flash of lightning, a deafening roar of thunder, followed by a sudden deluge.

Walking was out of the question.

With a sigh of resignation, Kadie turned on the windshield wipers, put the SUV in gear, and drove across the bridge as quickly as she dared, praying all the way that the bridge wouldn’t break and dump her in the shallow river below.

When she reached the other side, she headed straight toward the gas station, her sense of unease growing as she drove down what appeared to be the main street. Only there were no lights showing in any of the buildings. No people in evidence.

The place looked like a ghost town, and she knew all about ghost towns. As a free lance writer/​photographer, she had visited many of them. Jerome had a certain charm. Calico was quaint. But Bodie was her favorite. Walking along the dusty streets, it was easy to imagine the ghosts of former miners, cowboys, and tarts hovering nearby.

Kadie glanced out the side windows. If there were any ghosts here, she was certain they weren’t the friendly kind.

Pulling into the gas station, she stared in disbelief at the pump. Instead of the modern, automated kind she was used to, this one had to be pumped by hand. She shook her head. She had seen pictures of old pumps like this. They dated from the 1920s. She wasn’t surprised to see a closed sign on the window. The place looked like it had been closed for years.

Now what?

Chewing on the inside of her lower lip, she drove slowly down the main street.

She passed a small, wooden, two-story hotel. The lights were out.

Every store she passed was the same.

She made a right turn at the next stop sign and found herself in a residential section. The houses were mostly made of wood, set on large lots, well back from the street. Most of them had large front porches and old-fashioned picture windows. A few had cars in the driveway, cars that came from the same era as the gas pump. Every house was dark inside and out.

Pulling up at a stop sign, she glanced down the street, then smacked her hand against her forehead. Of course! The lights were probably out due to the storm.

She made a quick U-Turn and drove back to the hotel. The Durango sputtered and died several yards short of her goal. Taking her foot off the gas, she coasted to the curb.

Kadie sat there a moment, reluctant to leave the shelter of the car. Rain pounded on the roof and poured down the windshield. No doubt she’d be soaked clear through before she reached the entrance.

She glanced at the hotel again. Assuming the storm had caused the power failure, it was odd that the hotel didn’t have a back-up generator, or at least have some candles burning.

Leaning forward, she rested her forehead on the steering wheel and closed her eyes. Maybe she would just sleep in the Durango. She’d done it before.

She jumped a foot when someone tapped on the driver’s side window.

When she looked up, she saw a man peering at her through the glass. For the first time, she wished she had taken her father’s advice and bought a gun to keep in the car. “The way you go gallivantin’ around the country, you might need it someday,” he’d often said.

And now someday had arrived.

“Are you all right?” the stranger asked.

Kadie stared at him, surprised she could hear him so clearly in spite of the rain and the thunder.

“Fine, thank you,” she said. “Except I’m out of gas. Is there a station nearby?”

“Just the one, and it’s out of business.”

Kadie frowned. She’d seen cars in the driveways. Where did they buy gas?

“You’re gonna freeze to death in there,” he said. “There’s a tavern down the street that’s open late. You can warm up inside.”

Kadie shook her head. She wasn’t crazy enough to follow a stranger down a dark street in the middle of the night.

“You’ll be perfectly safe. Cross my heart,” he said, his finger copying his words.

Kadie took a deep breath as she weighed her options. If he meant to do her harm, there was nothing to stop him from breaking into the SUV. And she was cold, and getting colder every minute. Lightning lanced the clouds. A rumble of thunder shook the car.

“They have hot coffee,” he added.

That did it. Grabbing her purse and the keys, she pulled the hood of her jacket up over her head and unlocked the door.

She was careful not to get too close to him as they walked down the street.

The night club was only half a block from the hotel. Kadie hesitated when the stranger opened the door; then, taking a deep breath, she stepped inside.

Warmth engulfed her. The light from a dozen flickering candles revealed a large room dominated by a bar that ran the length of the back wall. A number of booths lined one side of the room; a dozen small, round tables occupied the other side.

She felt suddenly self-conscious as five men and a woman turned to stare at her.

Ignoring them one and all, she followed her companion to an empty table.

“Here, let me take that,” he said as she shrugged out of her wet jacket.

Kadie murmured her thanks as he draped it over the back of an empty chair, then took the seat across from hers.

A tall, skinny woman who looked almost anorexic approached the table on silent feet.

“Do you want anything besides coffee?” Kadie’s companion asked.

When she shook her head, he ordered a glass of wine and the skinny woman walked away as silently as she had appeared.

Kadie clasped her hands in her lap, looking everywhere but at the man across from her.

“I’m Darrick.”

He had a faint English accent. She supposed there were those who would think him handsome. He wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t her type. He had brown eyes, regular features, and short reddish-brown hair.

“Kadie,” she said.

“What brings you to Morgan Creek?”

“I took a wrong turn,” she admitted, and felt a faint flush of embarrassment warm her cheeks. She had always prided herself on being able to find her way around. “And ended up here.”

“Far off the beaten path, to be sure.”

The silent waitress returned with their drinks, and silently departed.

“Is there something wrong with her?” Kadie asked.

He lifted one brow. “With Frankie? She’s a mute.”

“Oh, how sad.” Kadie watched the waitress move from table to table. The woman never smiled at anyone.

“You’ll be needing a place to spend the night,” Darrick said, drawing Kadie’s attention once more.

“The hotel…”

“Out of business. The place is empty. Has been for years. But I’m sure we can find you a bed somewhere.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. “That’s all right. I’ll just sleep in my car. I’ve done it before.”

He shook his head. “Not a good idea.”

The look in his eyes, the underlying warning in his voice, sent a chill down her spine. “Do you have a better one?” She blew on her coffee, then took a sip. It was stronger than she liked and she added a packet of sugar.

“There’s an empty house over on Fifth Street. The people took off in a hurry and left all their furniture behind. You can stay there.”

“You mean, break in?”

“The people aren’t coming back, so the house is just sitting there. You might as well use it.”

Kadie fidgeted in her chair. What he was suggesting didn’t seem right, but it was a lot more appealing than sleeping in her car, especially with the rain falling steadily and no end in sight.

She looked up to find Darrick regarding her over the rim of his wine glass. It was hard to think clearly when he was looking at her like that, as if she was the last cookie in the jar and he was starving for sweets.

He sipped his wine, his gaze never leaving hers.

His stare made her uncomfortable. He looked harmless enough. There was nothing threatening in his manner, and yet…she shook off her disquieting thoughts. She was probably just upset by the day’s events.

She finished her coffee and set the cup aside.

“Do you want another cup?” he asked.

“No,” she said, smothering a yawn. “I can hardly keep my eyes open.”
Putting his wine glass aside, he pushed away from the table. “Let’s go, then.”

“What about the check?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“If you don’t have any money…”

“I’ll take care of it later.”

That seemed odd, she thought, pushing away from the table. But then, maybe he knew the owner or ran a tab.

He helped her into her jacket, then followed her toward the door.
Kadie pulled her hood up as she stepped outside. “Aren’t you cold?” For the first time, she noticed he wasn’t wearing a coat.

He shook his head.

“I need to get my things.”

Nodding, he fell into step beside her, waited on the sidewalk while she pulled her suitcase from the backseat. He took it from her, then reached for her hand.

Pretending not to notice, Kadie shoved her hands into her pockets.

“This way,” he said.

Filled with trepidation, she followed him down the street and around the corner. They didn’t pass anyone else, but then, who would be out on a night like this if they didn’t have to?

They went another block before they came to a neat, ranch-style house. Kadie hurried up the porch stairs, grateful to be out of the rain.

She hesitated when he opened the door, sent a quick prayer for protection to heaven, and stepped inside. She grunted softly when she bumped her knee on a table.

“Stay here,” Darrick said, closing the door. “I’ll find a candle.”

Kadie bit down on her lower lip. What on earth was she doing in a strange town, in a strange house, with a strange man? She had always hated those silly heroines who were too stupid to live, but she had a feeling she was acting like one.

She was giving serious thought to running back to her car, but she wouldn’t be any safer there than she was here.

He returned carrying a hurricane lamp. The candle cast eerie shadows on the walls and ceiling.

“I think you’ll be comfortable here,” he said, handing her the lamp. “There’s some wood in the hearth, if you want to start a fire.”

Kadie nodded, her tension growing with every passing moment.

“The power should be back on in the morning,” he said.

She nodded. “Thank you for your help.”

He looked at her, his expression enigmatic. He took a step toward her, and she took a step back when she saw his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Your eyes…” She blinked and looked again. “Nothing.” For a moment, she would have sworn his eyes looked red. Probably just a trick of the light, she told herself. She placed the lamp on the mantel. Turning around, she said, “Thank you for your…”

Kadie stared at the place where he had been standing only moments before.
How had he disappeared so quickly? And how had he gotten out of the house without opening the door?
#

Oblivious to the thunder and the lightning, Darrick strolled down the street toward the tavern. In spite of the howling of the wind and the rain that slapped him in the face, he could still smell the woman’s scent. What luck, that he had found her first. It had been years since anyone new had wandered into town from the outside world. Morgan Creek wasn’t on any map. A hundred and fifty years ago, it had been a cattle town. Then a ghost town. Now it was…hell, he didn’t know what it was. And then he grinned. Actually, hell was a pretty apt description.

He quickened his pace as the tavern came into view.

It was late, and he was thirsty.




Excerpts

What I'm working on now
Catch the Lightning
Capture the Lightning
Passion's Promise
In the Shadow of the Hills
Reckless Destiny
Tales of Western Romance
Coming Soon
Amanda's Vampire Romances
Sequel to After Sundown
Sequel to Shades of Gray
Alien/Vampire
Time Travel
Under a Prairie Moon
A Whisper in the Wind
The Spirit Path
The Angel and the Outlaw
A Feather in the Wind
Books by EC Blush - formerly Cerridwen Press
Apache Flame
Hawk's Woman
Heart of the Hunter
Lakota Love Song
Love's Seranade
Shadows Through Time
Under Apache Skies
Wolf Shadow
The Night Series
Books 3 and 4 in the Night Series
Books 1 and 2 in the Night Series
Short Stories
Books by Harlequin Silhouette
Leisure Historical Romance Series
Includes covers and cover copy for Reckless Heart, Reckless Love, Reckless Desire and Reckless Embrace
Leisure Historical Romance
The first book I wrote
Fantasy Romances
The Captive
Warrior's Lady
Beneath a Midnight Moon
Anthologies
After Twilight
Stroke of Midnight
Midnight Pleasures
The Mammoth Book of Vampire Romance
Paradise
The Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance