June 2026 Quarterly Newsletter

Dear friends,
 
Hoping this newsletter finds you all in good health.

West Series update
My first piece of news this quarter is that Reckoning, the final book in the eight-part West Series, is due out shortly. It is currently with ARC readers and should be available on Amazon in July.

The West Series has been my longest to date. Inspired by Wilbur Smith’s earlier works, I set out to write a family saga. After a visit to a bear lodge in British Columbia, the first book, Destiny, took shape, and the others followed quickly. I wrote the series during the pandemic, then held the books back for a time before deciding to release two each year.

This final book was not originally planned, but one of the secondary characters needed his story told. It also gave me the chance to tie up a few loose ends from earlier books. Thanks to Hank’s strong personality, the series grew to eight books.

When a secondary character takes hold
While we’re on the topic of secondary characters, I thought I’d share a few reflections. As writers, we have to be careful not to let supporting characters take over the protagonist’s role. I worked hard to keep Hank in the background in the earlier books, but by the time Deliverance came around, he had begun to play a much more active part.

It was while writing Deliverance that I realised Hank would eventually need a story of his own. He was simply too likable to ignore, and I was fortunate to have a few loose ends that his storyline could neatly resolve. By the later books, Hank had become firmly established as part of the family. Here is a short extract from Deliverance:

As Caroline finished her make-up, a strident car horn announced that Hank was waiting. She grabbed a sheepskin jacket and pulled it over her merino polo-neck sweater. She’d put on a thick pair of jeans and fur-lined ankle boots. She liked that the boots shot her up another inch, as Hank towered over her like an oak tree. Taking two stairs at a time, Caroline flew, grabbed a scarf and hat from the peg by the door, and headed outside.
Hank waited for her by the work wagon’s passenger door. He looked fabulous in a western shirt, boots polished to an inch of their life, a fringed earth-coloured jacket and blue jeans. His wet, cropped sandy hair revealed a bronzed, weathered face with green eyes as fresh as a spray of mint. He opened the door and helped her into the seat. He walked like he’d been in the saddle from birth, with rippling muscles that gave him the strength of an ox. She’d heard her brothers and Hank laying bets on who could develop the best rock-hard, lean, muscular look by the end of the year. Men!
Hank climbed into the driver’s seat and buckled up. “You’re looking gorgeous.” His deep Texan drawl was one of the things she loved about him. He leaned over and gave her a peck on the lips.
“Gee, thanks.” She gently pushed him away. “You’d say that no matter what I wore.”
“Biased, I guess.”
Caroline laughed. “Just a smidge.” She buckled up. “How come you’ve come out in weather like this with your hair wet?”
“It’ll dry soon enough.” He thrust the key into the ignition and brought the engine to life.
“You’ll catch your death,” Caroline continued as he drove away from the house.
He shot her a smile. “You can keep me warm.”
“Do we need to pop into the shop and buy popcorn?” Caroline diverted the conversation. Hank didn’t need any encouragement. “I heard the shop at the drive-in is closed.”
“Sure. I’ve got drinks and some chocolate.”
Turning onto the main road, Hank drove towards town. He stopped at the shop. Caroline rushed in and bought popcorn. She couldn’t resist popping a handful into her mouth on her way back to the car.
“Hmm, that smells good.” Hank dived into the overflowing box, grabbed a handful, and stuffed popcorn into his mouth.
Caroline ate as he drove to the drive-in entrance and waved his card at the cashier. Parking up, Hank connected to the sound system, and they sat in companionable silence.
“Did you hear that Ethan Rogers is back in town?”
“Hmm, hmm.” She popped another handful of popcorn into her mouth. “He might play with the orchestra.”
“Didn’t know he played.” Hank took another handful.
“Neither did I.” Caroline glanced sideways at him. “He’s good and would be an asset.”
When the movie started, they settled back. Hank’s hand slowly moved towards hers, resting on her thigh. He wanted to hold her hand but wouldn’t take liberties. She pretended she couldn’t see it moving closer until she conceded defeat and put him out of his misery by weaving her fingers with his for the rest of the movie. It made him happy, but she sent the wrong message. She loved Hank, but not in the way he wanted her to.
“That was sad.” Caroline wiped a stray tear as the credits rolled. Hank let her hand go as the cars around them came to life and slowly pulled away. The empty popcorn box, drink cans and chocolate wrappers sat on the back seat. “Was it based on a true story?”
“No. The 1917 script was written by Mendes and Krysty Wilson-Cairns and was inspired by fragments of stories from Mendes’s grandfather, who served as a runner during the war.”
“I hate war. It’s such a waste of life.”
Hank nodded. He leaned over, wiped a tear from her cheek, and gave her a peck on the lips. As Hank drove them home, the story filled Caroline’s head with unhappy thoughts. She couldn’t stop thinking about soldiers’ lives, in particular the two young British soldiers acting under orders to deliver a message calling off a doomed offensive.
She woke from her reflections as Hank stopped in front of the house and leaned in for another kiss. This time, it wasn’t a peck but a little more energetic. His lips were warm and familiar. It wasn’t an earth-shattering kiss, but it was still pleasant. She needed to talk to him about their relationship. It was hard to let her best friend down. They’d settled into a comfortable dating routine, and she was scared that once she revealed her feelings, she’d lose him. The situation needed delicate handling.
He drew back. “See you tomorrow.”
Caroline pushed open the door and stepped out. “Night.” She imagined them spending the rest of their lives saying goodnight this way. It’s what friends did. As Hank headed to his quarters, she headed to her bedroom.
 
Hank’s story continues.
Hank and Caroline were not meant to end up together, but Hank still gets his own story. Here is a short extract from Reckoning:
Hank opened the car door, and Kenna slid into the front passenger seat. She buckled up as Thomas climbed into the back. Hank had no idea what had happened in Dan’s study, but he knew one thing: Kenna wore the West brand. Short, layered black hair, charcoal eyes—the window to her soul—oval face, high cheekbones, and height. She wore a smear of red gloss on full lips, brightening her pale cheeks. He could have been looking at Caroline or Alana.
Hank pulled away from the house and turned right onto the main road. He glanced at Kenna. “Kenna is an unusual name,” he said. He liked how it sounded as it rolled off his tongue. “Is it Scottish?”
“Aye.”
“The Scots come up with some interesting names,” Hank said, trying to make conversation.
“So do ye Yanks,” Thomas grumbled from the back. “What kind of name is Hank?”
There was no doubt the guy in the back had a stick up his backside. “Hank means ruler of the home. It’s a diminutive form of Henry.” Along with the stick, he had a chip on his shoulder bigger than a tree trunk.
“I wasn’t asking,” Thomas growled sullenly.
“Thomas, will ye stop?” Kenna glanced at Hank. “I’m sorry for his behaviour. He gets grumpy when he’s tired.”
“That’s okay. We all do.” Hank checked Thomas in the rear-view mirror. He’d closed his eyes.
“So, Kenna, how long are you staying?”
Kenna shrugged. “Not sure. I’ve been waiting a long time to confront my father, but now that I’ve met him, who knows?”
“You’ve inherited a large family.”
“Aye, it appears so,” Kenna returned. “I’m sure they all hate me.”
“Why would you think that?” Hank’s forehead creased. “You have to give them a chance, and vice versa. Let’s face it, your announcement surprised everyone.”
“Aye. I guess.” Kenna glanced at Hank. “Where do ye fit in the family?”
“I worked for Dan for years before he made me a partner. I guess you could say the family adopted me, and Dan stepped in as a father figure. My parents died a long time ago, and I have no brothers or sisters.” He shot her a smile. “Or not that I know of.”
Kenna ignored his attempt at a joke and asked, “Tell me about Dan’s family.”
When she looked sideways at him, he briefly met her gaze. Her smile softened the sombre face from earlier. “Sure. Dan’s oldest son is Heath. He married his childhood sweetheart, Rachel, early this year. They ran into trouble on their honeymoon, and we thought we’d lost him. Thank God we didn’t. That’s a story for another time. Heath took over the business when Dan semi-retired. The second son is Jamie, who lives in the UK. He married Ellie’s daughter, Charlotte. Then we have twins, Alana and Caroline. Alana married a Scot and lives in Drumnadrochit. Caroline married a Vicar and lives in Wyoming. She’s staying here as she’s due to give birth. Her husband, Ethan, commutes between their home in Denver and here. Then there are the youngest twins, Joe and Oliver. Joe lives here with his wife, Isabella, and works with Heath. Oliver married Ellie’s daughter, Faith, and lives in Newmarket, England. They’re here for horse business and a family catch-up.”
“So many twins!” Kenna said. “Isn’t it a bit weird that two of Ellie’s daughters married West men?”
“Affairs of the heart aren’t my specialty.” Hank’s thoughts drifted to Caroline, whom he’d loved forever. That love had changed since her marriage to Ethan. Caroline and her siblings were the brothers and sisters he’d never had.
“What happened to Dan’s wives?”
“Now, there’s a sad story. I won’t be speaking out of turn, as it’s common knowledge. His first wife, Helen, loved speed and crashed her car. Eloisa broke her neck in a riding accident, and Suzanna died in childbirth from an aneurysm.”
“The family is cursed.”
Hank let rip with a belly laugh. “Don’t say that too loudly around Caroline. She’s a true believer. If you examine their history closely, it raises questions. The last few years haven’t been easy for the family. So, if you believe in curses, bad luck, or whatever, you’d think the Wests are cursed.”
“And what do ye think?”
“No such thing as curses.” Hank glanced at Kenna. “There’s luck. It comes in two forms, good and bad.”
Kenna grinned as she stared through the windshield. “I like yer thinking.”
Her grin was contagious, and Hank found himself grinning back. He pulled up to the curb. Cutting the engine, he looked towards the dual swing doors of the Buffalo Bills as someone staggered out on wobbly legs. “He’s had one too many.”
“Aye.” Kenna pushed open her door. “Thanks, Hank, for dropping us off at home.”
“No problem. I frequent Bills on my days off. They serve good grub, and their tap beer isn’t half bad either. You couldn’t have chosen a better place to stay for a bit of fun.”
“That’s what I thought when I booked online.”
“How about a lift back to the ranch tomorrow?”
“Nae, but thanks for asking. I’ll organise a hire car. If not, a taxi.”
“No need.” Hank opened the glove compartment and took out a card. “My number.” He pushed it into her hand. “Ring me, and I’ll collect you at whatever time you nominate. If you don’t ring, I’ll collect you early.”
“Early?”
“We start work at five.”
Kenna’s eyebrows shot up. “Five is a wee early,” she grinned. “Thanks for yer kindness, Hank, but I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure you will, but it’s not a problem. See you tomorrow morning.”
The back door slammed, and Thomas strolled to the passenger side. He opened the door, offered Kenna his hand, and helped her out. He took her arm and shot Hank a cold, hard stare through the open door before slamming it. Hank waited as they walked towards the swing doors. Kenna turned, waved, then disappeared inside. Hank sighed, pulled away from the curb, and drove home.
Kenna, he liked, but he wasn’t so sure about Thomas.

Looking ahead
Do keep an eye out for Reckoning as its release draws closer.

It has been a slower year, with just one new project currently underway: a paranormal story set in the Faroe Islands, where I’m exploring the folklore of selkies. Alongside the editing and writing, I’ve also spent time with fellow authors at markets, chatting with interested readers. As winter sets in, outdoor markets become more difficult because wet weather makes it hard to display books. Fortunately, markets here in South Australia have really taken off, and there are plenty of indoor venues to choose from.

In the meantime, I’m heading to the warmer climates of Spain and France for a few weeks. I’m hoping to gather plenty of story ideas on a train journey through the Pyrenees, from San Sebastián to Santiago de Compostela, and later through the south of France, where we’ll be cruising along the Rhône. Both regions are new to me, so I’m hoping for lots of inspiration.
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Wherever you live in this amazing world of ours, stay safe. Until next time--

Suzie.