#Romance in a Month – It’s here!

My first romance novel is now available! Behind the Altar is the story of forbidden love by a woman passionate about helping the homeless vets living in her small Florida town and a man haunted by his childhood. He’s a famous tattoo artist, and she’s kind, loving, and innocent until he rides his Harley into her heart, and they both discover they’ve never known love before. Be sure to scroll down to enter the raffle to win a paperback copy of Behind the Altar.

Title: Behind the Alter: Behind the Love Trilogy (Book 1)
Author: P.C. Zick
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: September 16, 2014
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~~ABOUT THE BOOK~~

Forbidden Love – Book #1 in the Behind the Love Series by P.C. Zick

Leah Bryant’s life satisfies all her needs. Her engagement to Jacob Davis, minister of the Sunshine Christian Church, gives her the security she requires after living in a car during her teenage years. She runs a food kitchen out of the church for homeless vets who are living on the banks of Deer River. All is perfect until the day her future mother-in-law Geraldine tells her the church is shutting down the kitchen, and Dean””Jacob’s brother””rides his Harley into her heart. Leah’s world begins to crumble as she falls into Dean’s muscular and tattooed arms. Dean, who’s been away from his home for ten years, finds himself irresistibly drawn in by Leah’s natural beauty and genuine goodness. As they fight to stay away from one another, Leah and Dean keep finding ways to be together. The more they fight the attraction, the harder it is to stay apart. Will Leah go ahead and marry Jacob despite Dean’s haunting her every thought? Will Dean exact the revenge he came home to hand out? And will Geraldine manage to keep control over the church, Jacob, and Leah? It will all be determined in Behind the Altar, a romantic story of forbidden love.

˃˃˃ Homeless vets, deranged mothers, and a tattoo artist collide in this story of true love



How can the sweet and innocent Leah make sure her fight to feed the homeless in the small town of Victory, Florida, is successful? The arrival of Dean, her fiance’s brother, confuses the matter even more as the two are uncontrollably attracted to one another.

Can love really conquer all? Dean and Leah are about to find out.

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Website: www.pczick.com

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#Civil War Journal on Special #Sale

Civil War Journal of a Union Soldier, the memoir of my great grandfather, is on a Kindle Countdown deal this week. March 22 and 23, the Kindle version is only .99 cents. On March 24, it goes up to $1.99 for four days, before reverting back to its original price. If you haven’t downloaded the journal yet, here’s your change to take advantage of this special offer. The book is also available in paperback for $6.93.

Here’s an excerpt from 152 years ago this week. Harmon Camburn brings the sights, sounds, and sensibilities of the regular infantry soldier to light with his riveting prose.

Click on cover for Amazon page

Click on cover for Amazon page

 

March 21, 1862 – The bugle sounded “Strike Tents.” Taking the road up Hampton Creek a mile or so, we crossed the bridge and passed through the ruins of Hampton. This was the oldest town and had the oldest church in Virginia. The rebel cavalry general, Wade Hampton, occupied this place through the winter with the Hampton Legion. Upon the approach of the “Yankees,” he fired the town and retreated. The town was entirely destroyed, but the greatest regret felt for the loss of the old church, said to have been built by John Smith of brick brought from England.

Leaving the blackened ruins of this little hamlet behind, we soon pitched our tents near Back River about five miles form Newport News Point. In this camp, we passed the next two weeks. The rain fell almost continually and the ground became a sea of soft mud through which it was difficult to move. Troops were arriving and going into camp around us every day. The enemy was in possession of the other side of the river and picket duty came around often. A night on picket in the rain was not much relieved by a day under our pup tents. We were not yet used to accommodating ourselves to such close quarters, but it was discovered that a third half tent, turned corner-wise would button on to the others and close up the end. This and other discoveries afterward enabled us to make ourselves comparatively comfortable.

I had often noticed in Virginia a small thicket in the midst of cultivated ground. In an intermission between showers one day, I explored one of these and found it to be, as I did others after, a family burying ground. The tombstones were common sandstone and lay flat upon the ground. Rudely chiseled upon their rough surface was the name, date of birth, date of death, and sometimes a brief epitaph. The date of death on one was 1711. I saw others ranging along to 1790. It seems disgraceful that these old burial places should be neglected to grow up on tangled thickets and plowed around like any difficult obstruction.

While our regiment was on picket along the river one day, men were discovered lurking in the woods on the opposite bank. A peremptory order enforced with loaded muskets brought them over the river. There were seven of them, and they proved to be Negro slaves escaped from Yorktown. They were in a starving condition, and one of them died the same night. Twenty-four of them had escaped from Yorktown, an easy day’s march from us, four weeks before. They had concealed themselves by day in ditches and wandered by night in search of the “Yankees.” Seventeen had died by the way from hunger and exposure, and one died just after reaching the goal of their desire. They gave important information concerning the enemy’s fortifications, position, and strength. The survivors were employed as servants by our officers. This incident shows that slaves will risk their lives for freedom.

 

Milestones and Friends

Several momentous events occurred in my life in 2005, beginning with a month-long trip to Italy with my daughter, newly graduated from college. When we returned home, I moved to St. Augustine, ninety miles away, as a newly divorced fifty-year old, beginning life in a new city with a new job.

Feral cats roamed the neighborhood where I lived in St. Augustine. One of them remained aloof from the rest and began making her home on my patio. I eventually adopted her into my life and crowned her “Abby.” Abby, a long-haired black cat with green eyes, followed her own rules. She jumped on furniture, book shelves, and tables and didn’t flinch when pillows, books, and glassware went flying. When I moved to Tallahassee, I couldn’t take this still half-wild cat with me, so my friends, Joy and John, became her foster parents. Abby took over their home and Nico, their black lab. Nico lives in fear of Abby after seven years of cohabiting. I recently visited them, and noticed Nico wouldn’t go near his food dish when Abby was in the room. Today, my friend Joy discovered that Abby definitively declared herself the Queen of All Things. This photo says it all.

Abby

Abby in Nico’s food bowl

Another friend came into my life in 2005 as well, and she has achieved a milestone today by publishing her new cookbook, Cuban Rice Classics, on Amazon. Marisella Veiga is an accomplished author, journalist, and professor. When I moved to St. Augustine, I went to a woman’s networking luncheon. I was running late and thought all the seats were taken in the room full of one hundred women. There wasn’t an empty seat available, except next to a friendly woman with dark hair and welcoming smile.

“I’m Marisella Veiga, and I’m a writer,” the woman said.

“I’m a writer, too,” I answered. Out of all the people in the room, we were the only writers, and I’m certain something other than ourselves created that one empty chair next to Marisella that day.

I knew we’d be great friends. We were both new to St. Augustine. She’d recently married for the first time, and I’d recently divorced for the first time. We shared some of the same sarcastic, yet loving, views on life, despite our different backgrounds. She and her family left Cuba when she was very young, and they ended up in Minnesota, where the nice, but isolated people in their community thought the Veiga family were of African-American descent.

But what sealed our friendship that day was when she told me she’d just joined a group of women called, Vintage Surfers.

“But I don’t surf,” I said.

“I don’t either, but it’s a blast to watch the others try,” she answered. “I use a boogie board.”

I joined her, and we’ve “boogied” together ever since by the bonds of mutual respect and a weird sense of humor at life’s sometimes funny and sometimes bitter ironies.

So today, I celebrate the milestone of my fellow author and vintage surfer and friend. Using the traditions of her heritage, Marisella has pulled together a book filled with more than recipes. It contains the legacy and history of the Cuban people and their food, which ties together a culture torn apart by the tragedy of exile from one’s homeland.

Click on book cover for purchase link

Here’s to milestones and friends and laughter.

And here’s hoping Nico will one day regain his food bowl.Nico