Celebrate Kris Francoeur's new release with an author spotlight!
More
Than I Can Say
by
Kris Francoeur
Genre:
Contemporary Romance
EXCERPT
Prologue
Dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, Jackson started up the 5.8 mile trail to the summit. He was looking forward to training outdoors for the Spartan Race, instead of in the city gyms.
Almost a mile in, he paused to adjust his pack before beginning to run again, happy that no one else seemed to be out this early on a Sunday morning. As he picked up his pace, he heard a noise behind him. Glancing over his shoulder and saw a small blonde woman rapidly approaching. As she caught up, she shouted. “Stay left!”
“Huh?”
She pointed to the greenery on the right without breaking stride. “Nettles. You’re in shorts, you’ll get stung.”
He swerved left. “Thanks.”
As she ran past him, Jack got a view of her very shapely backside framed in running tights, her fitted tank top highlighting her curves, and a very distinctive tattoo of a star on her left shoulder.
In less than a minute, she was out of sight. Intrigued, he picked up his pace, in an effort to catch up.
As Jackson reached the wooden steps that he had read were just below the summit, he heard her voice again. “Careful. Last step is cracked.”
He adjusted his stride as his foot was about to come down, then slowed even further as he came into the clearing at the top of the mountain. There she was, standing on a large flat rock, water bottle in her hand.
Seeing her face fully for the first time, he smiled. Bright green eyes were framed by blonde hair pulled back in a severe ponytail. She looked at him in curiosity. Jackson felt a surge of physical awareness as he realized how beautiful this stranger was. “Thanks for the warnings.”
Georgiana took a sip of water, feeling herself react in a way that hadn’t happened with any man in a very, very long time. Dark brown hair swept back from his face, contrasting with the blue-gray of his eyes. Even from a distance, it was clear that he would tower over her, but then again, most people did. The well-defined muscles in his arms and legs made it clear that he trained regularly. She wondered who he was, as she knew almost everyone who ran trails in the area. “You’re welcome.”
Jackson snagged water from his pack. “Great trail.” He looked at his watch to gauge his time. “Do you run it often?”
“Yes.”
Her brief answer sparked his curiosity, and it suddenly became a challenge to get her to say more. “Is it always this quiet?”
She nodded. “It’s closed for several months in the spring and early summer because the peregrines nest here. But even when it reopens, it’s usually pretty quiet because it’s steep and long. Not everyone’s up for the challenge.”
“True.”
She stood up and tucked the water back in her trail pack. “When you go down, stay to the inside on the steps. They wobble.”
“Wait. Are you training for something in particular?”
She grinned. “Yes.” She waved to him as she started toward the trail. “Have a great trip down.”
EXCERPT
Prologue
Dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, Jackson started up the 5.8 mile trail to the summit. He was looking forward to training outdoors for the Spartan Race, instead of in the city gyms.
Almost a mile in, he paused to adjust his pack before beginning to run again, happy that no one else seemed to be out this early on a Sunday morning. As he picked up his pace, he heard a noise behind him. Glancing over his shoulder and saw a small blonde woman rapidly approaching. As she caught up, she shouted. “Stay left!”
“Huh?”
She pointed to the greenery on the right without breaking stride. “Nettles. You’re in shorts, you’ll get stung.”
He swerved left. “Thanks.”
As she ran past him, Jack got a view of her very shapely backside framed in running tights, her fitted tank top highlighting her curves, and a very distinctive tattoo of a star on her left shoulder.
In less than a minute, she was out of sight. Intrigued, he picked up his pace, in an effort to catch up.
As Jackson reached the wooden steps that he had read were just below the summit, he heard her voice again. “Careful. Last step is cracked.”
He adjusted his stride as his foot was about to come down, then slowed even further as he came into the clearing at the top of the mountain. There she was, standing on a large flat rock, water bottle in her hand.
Seeing her face fully for the first time, he smiled. Bright green eyes were framed by blonde hair pulled back in a severe ponytail. She looked at him in curiosity. Jackson felt a surge of physical awareness as he realized how beautiful this stranger was. “Thanks for the warnings.”
Georgiana took a sip of water, feeling herself react in a way that hadn’t happened with any man in a very, very long time. Dark brown hair swept back from his face, contrasting with the blue-gray of his eyes. Even from a distance, it was clear that he would tower over her, but then again, most people did. The well-defined muscles in his arms and legs made it clear that he trained regularly. She wondered who he was, as she knew almost everyone who ran trails in the area. “You’re welcome.”
Jackson snagged water from his pack. “Great trail.” He looked at his watch to gauge his time. “Do you run it often?”
“Yes.”
Her brief answer sparked his curiosity, and it suddenly became a challenge to get her to say more. “Is it always this quiet?”
She nodded. “It’s closed for several months in the spring and early summer because the peregrines nest here. But even when it reopens, it’s usually pretty quiet because it’s steep and long. Not everyone’s up for the challenge.”
“True.”
She stood up and tucked the water back in her trail pack. “When you go down, stay to the inside on the steps. They wobble.”
“Wait. Are you training for something in particular?”
She grinned. “Yes.” She waved to him as she started toward the trail. “Have a great trip down.”
Dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, Jackson started up the 5.8 mile trail to the summit. He was looking forward to training outdoors for the Spartan Race, instead of in the city gyms.
Almost a mile in, he paused to adjust his pack before beginning to run again, happy that no one else seemed to be out this early on a Sunday morning. As he picked up his pace, he heard a noise behind him. Glancing over his shoulder and saw a small blonde woman rapidly approaching. As she caught up, she shouted. “Stay left!”
“Huh?”
She pointed to the greenery on the right without breaking stride. “Nettles. You’re in shorts, you’ll get stung.”
He swerved left. “Thanks.”
As she ran past him, Jack got a view of her very shapely backside framed in running tights, her fitted tank top highlighting her curves, and a very distinctive tattoo of a star on her left shoulder.
In less than a minute, she was out of sight. Intrigued, he picked up his pace, in an effort to catch up.
As Jackson reached the wooden steps that he had read were just below the summit, he heard her voice again. “Careful. Last step is cracked.”
He adjusted his stride as his foot was about to come down, then slowed even further as he came into the clearing at the top of the mountain. There she was, standing on a large flat rock, water bottle in her hand.
Seeing her face fully for the first time, he smiled. Bright green eyes were framed by blonde hair pulled back in a severe ponytail. She looked at him in curiosity. Jackson felt a surge of physical awareness as he realized how beautiful this stranger was. “Thanks for the warnings.”
Georgiana took a sip of water, feeling herself react in a way that hadn’t happened with any man in a very, very long time. Dark brown hair swept back from his face, contrasting with the blue-gray of his eyes. Even from a distance, it was clear that he would tower over her, but then again, most people did. The well-defined muscles in his arms and legs made it clear that he trained regularly. She wondered who he was, as she knew almost everyone who ran trails in the area. “You’re welcome.”
Jackson snagged water from his pack. “Great trail.” He looked at his watch to gauge his time. “Do you run it often?”
“Yes.”
Her brief answer sparked his curiosity, and it suddenly became a challenge to get her to say more. “Is it always this quiet?”
She nodded. “It’s closed for several months in the spring and early summer because the peregrines nest here. But even when it reopens, it’s usually pretty quiet because it’s steep and long. Not everyone’s up for the challenge.”
“True.”
She stood up and tucked the water back in her trail pack. “When you go down, stay to the inside on the steps. They wobble.”
“Wait. Are you training for something in particular?”
She grinned. “Yes.” She waved to him as she started toward the trail. “Have a great trip down.”
The
Stained Glass Window
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Kris Francoeur
Genre:
Contemporary Romance
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Tomorrow
and Yesterday
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That
Missed Call
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Kris Francoeur, writer and educator, is a grieving mother who has found joy and light again through the practices of conscious and deliberate gratitude, unconditional acceptance and connection with nature. With Master’s degrees in both Counseling Psychology and Educational Leadership, Kris writes with authority about grief and moving forward in our very busy and stressful world. A published author of fiction, Kris has published three romance novels (More Than I Can Say, That One Small Omission and The Phone Call) with Solstice Publishing using her pen name Anna Belle Rose. Kris lives in beautiful Addison County, Vermont with her husband and youngest son, a small herd of alpacas, a flock of chickens and several hives of bees. Kris loves to spend time with her family (including older son, daughter and grandchildren), spending time in the garden and spinning the alpaca fiber for yarn for knitting.
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