Fiction Fest: More from Lauren Winder Farnsworth’s ‘Keeping Kate’

Keeping-kate_9781462115631Now that our January releases have been unleashed, you might need a little motivation to go pick up a copy of Lauren Winder Farnsworth’s “Keeping Kate.” Well, read on for what will prove to be the motivation you need.

“Keeping Kate” is available in bookstores and from online retailers. Want to see what others think of the book? Check its official blog tour page every day and follow along as the tour runs from Jan. 17-31.

EXCERPT:

From the author: Having begun a new job at a large and comfortable Utah ranch, Kate is struggling to manage the care and education of her newest responsibility, eight-year-old Addie. Needing some time to think and recharge her batteries, she escapes from the ranch house one afternoon for a walk in the snow. During her walk, she narrowly escapes being flattened by a huge truck barreling down the dirt road toward her.

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The driver apparently hadn’t been expecting to see me any more than I had him. In his efforts to avoid me, he swerved violently on the narrow road, slipping and sliding until he finally came to rest in a shallow ditch, inches away from a huge pine tree.

As I pulled myself cautiously to my feet and brushed the snow from my pants, I heard the truck door slam and footsteps crunching angrily in my direction. Glancing up, I saw a large figure bearing down on me, muttering all the way.

“What the—what exactly do you think you’re doing?” a deep, unfamiliar voice demanded.

Squinting through the thickly falling flakes, I realized that I didn’t recognize the face of the irate man in front of me. I was familiar with everyone on the ranch, so I knew he was not one of the eight ranch hands employed there. I stepped closer and his features came into sharper focus, assuring me that this man was indeed a stranger. He looked to be in his early to mid-thirties, not handsome necessarily, but with strong, decided features. He was large—several inches over six feet tall—and broad through the shoulders. His most distinguishing feature however, was the large cut on his forehead, which was presently gushing blood.

“You’re bleeding!” I exclaimed.

He ignored my concern and took an irritated swipe at the gash, wincing slightly. “Who are you?” he demanded rudely.

I didn’t particularly like being addressed in this manner when my only crime was to be on the road at the same moment as his monster truck. I straightened, squaring my shoulders and meeting his eyes unflinchingly.

“My name is Kate Evans,” I said, my voice strong and confident. “And who are you?”

“I don’t believe that’s any of your business,” he said coldly. “What’re you thinking, being out alone, at night, in a snowstorm? Are you crazy?!”

“No more than you,” I protested. “I was out for a walk.”

“A walk?” he repeated with disdainful incredulity, glancing around him at the weather conditions.

I immediately decided that I didn’t like this man.

“Yes, a walk,” I snapped defensively.

He stepped closer to me, scrutinizing my features. “I’ve never seen you before,” he said accusingly, as if it were my fault we’d never been introduced. “What are you doing on this road?”

I stared at him. What was his problem? Just because he didn’t know me, I suddenly wasn’t allowed to be on the road? Who did he think he was, anyway?