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The Doctor’s Wife

Historical Romance
Short Story/8500 words
Originally published with
The Wild Rose Press as
The Open Face of Heaven

Just what the doctor ordered . . . After losing her parents, Milly Blakely cuts her hair and pretends to be younger to get on the Orphan Train. She travels a long way to find a new family. Rad Powell’s wife, Frances, is dying. He gives in to her wish for a companion and takes in Milly Blakely. Milly is a blessing and so much more than a mere companion during Frances’ last days. After the loss of his wife, Rad realizes how much this young woman has changed his life and touched his bruised heart. Can he find a second chance at love?


The following Sunday, Rad carried his wife down the aisle and tenderly installed her in what had originally been the Gregory pew. He stood to one side as Mrs. Mac and Milly Blakely took their places beside Frances. Rad, who seldom graced the church with his presence, bowed to the preacher and walked out.

Back home, Rad paced the floor, waiting until he had to return and pick up his womenfolk. It was the contrast between Milly and Frances that made the girl so appealing, he thought. Milly was so vibrantly alive and poor Frances so very unwell. He remembered his hands on Milly’s strong, pliant waist and his palms tingled.

Miss Millicent Diana Blakely was dangerous as hell, and didn’t he feel like a piece of dirt? He didn’t need to carry around a load of guilt, so he’d be careful not to touch Milly, ever again.

Roan’s Redemption


Historical Western Romance
Short Story/7500 words
Originally published by The Wild Rose Press

Oklahoma Territory 1892

Addie McKenna finished digging the grave at sundown. She had to get Mattie in the ground tonight; tomorrow would be another scorcher. The dog barked as Addie climbed from the grave. A stranger driving a buckboard loomed from the shadows. As he came closer, Addie’s breath caught. Roan McLeod! She kept her face blank. He was a married man.

Roan McLeod looked at Addie McKenna, alone beside the open grave. Four months since he’d seen her. His nights had been haunted by this red-haired girl, haunted by forbidden images of them together as he opened his mouth on Addie’s and removed her clothes. Those were shameful thoughts for a man who had buried his wife and daughter only ten days ago.

Roan’s Redemption is the first romance in a series called “The Orphan Train Legacy.”

Dark Moon Rising

Dark Moon Rising
Sci-Fi Paranormal
Romance Novel

A futuristic paranormal romance novel (120k words) in a retrospective style reminiscent of the great science fiction of the 1960s.

In an obscure arm of the Mist Galaxy, light years from old Earth, the Ajoricans (Jories) are life companions to certain humans with psychic abilities. Time and space obey these cat-like creatures. They can bend and stop time, see time-to-be, jump vast distances alone, and take their humans with them.

The true rulers of the Mist Galaxy are the immortal Nidians who took up residence on Moon Aden eons ago. These winged creatures are tired of life and have brought in humans to help them die. 

Captain Lord Rhad Detangi, heir to the ancient Leopard throne, rescues twelve-year-old Princess Reisa Hyatt-Hale from a hostile takeover of her parents’ castle. Able to read minds and manipulate others by “pushing” them, Rhad discovers Reisa is an empath, who is unaware of her own psychic powers.

Years later, their lives intertwine again when they are put on a ship bound for the prison planet Cortania. Reisa is grown up. Her powers have evolved and her feelings have matured. The compelling presence of Rhad Detangi is an irresistible force she cannot fight.

Rhad has never forgotten the girl he rescued so long ago. The emotional bonds they forged, and Reisa’s ethereal beauty combine to fuel the obsessive need Rhad feels. Can they win against the evil forces that threaten their worlds? Can her absolute love survive his absolute power?


The caves in the mountain behind the Temple of the Sun were cool and damp and totally without light. Rhad could see nothing in the darkness that was blacker than any night he had ever known. He could hear the wash of water. The stream, swift running, swished and gurgled as it sped through the cavern.

Rhad lay on a level place beside the water, naked in the smooth sand. He was alone, solitary as he’d ever been, suspended in nothingness. He seemed to float, outside himself. He felt his body, but did not seem part of it. His mind was his existence, his universe. It expanded, and, as his teachers had promised, Rhad could peel back the layers, exposing levels as discrete as lines drawn on a map. No, not like a map.

The levels of his consciousness, and of his subconscious, were multidimensional. They were places he could reach–could go–by willing himself there. They were distinct and fluid at the same time, the separations contiguous to, but not part of each other. The strata were sharply divided.
Rhad flowed inside the orb that was his mind, exploring, swimming freely from one compartment to the next. Each was as different as the rooms of a house.

He dozed and was back in his body. There was light, a faint light approaching. It was Reisa. Not the child. No, she was a child no longer. This was Reisa-to-be. She brought the light; Reisa was the light. She smiled, her silver eyes pale and cool, and laid her hand on his chest. Her movements were liquid, slow, as if she moved under water.

She was clothed in garments of gold, like shafts of moonlight, diaphanous, clinging. She touched his lips with her fingers. She bent and put her mouth on his, open like a flower.

Heat consumed them, flames licking their bodies. Reisa’s hair took fire, a glorious radiance, streaming upward and away and around them.

The Seventh Circle

Short story/6500 words

Fallon Mitchell learns that uber-novelist Langston Carmichael has requested someone to come to Villa del Sol, his fabulous island home near Venice to act as his secretary. A popular novelist in her own right, Fallon is determined to help Lang anyway she can. He doesn’t know it, but he is the father of her sixteen-year-old son Dax. Fallon pays her debts; it’s time to pay Lang for her son. What will happen if he recognizes her? She can’t worry about that. Odds are, he won’t remember her. After all, they were together only two days and two nights when Fallon tracked him down, seduced him and deliberately conceived their son.

World famous Pulitzer Prize winning author Langston Carmichael has never needed or wanted a secretary. Now he has been blinded in a car crash. He asks his publisher to send him someone who has worked in publishing and is willing to come to his private island in Italy, across the bay, the Golfo di Venzia, from Venice. This secretary will help Lang move the rest of his latest novel from his head to a manuscript that can be tweaked, edited and eventually published.

Never Let Me Go

Short Story/7700 words

Widow Ellen Chandler comes to Texas from Chicago to bury her Aunt Dulcy. The sight of Rancher Gil Sanderson is enough to reanimate the teenage crush she felt for Gil when he played college football with her older brother.

Gil Sanderson vows never to trust another woman after his bitter and costly divorce. That was before Ellen moves back to Texas.

As Ellen helps Gil’s grandmother launch The Old Jail Museum, their attraction explodes. Will a violent, malicious jealousy threaten their happiness?


After twenty years, I ditched Microsoft and embraced Apple. For a writer who is on the computer 24/7, that was a scary decision. The change seriously interrupted my word output as I groped through new methods of managing my files, getting email and saving to my flash drives. But the pros outweighed the cons, and I made the leap from a flawed platform I knew very well to another I’ve had to learn from scratch.

Friends and family reminded me I hate to learn new stuff. I say old dogs can learn new tricks and keep their sanity. So far, that’s a real maybe. Continue Reading »


(C) 2009 BK Reeves/Short Story/LOVE ME FOREVER

The snow was just beginning to fall when Callie pulled in at the west gate. She could see that it was chained and padlocked. Rummaging in her bag for the keys, she jumped out of the pickup truck she’d rented in Abilene.

The sun dropped behind the pastureland at her back as she tried to fit the key into the icy padlock. Finally the lock gave and she was able to unwrap the chain and push back the double gates.

Cold, she was so cold. She blew on her hands before she started the truck and pulled onto the land she’d inherited, the small Caddel spread. Small for Texas, 2500 acres more or less. Callie had forgotten to call Lucas Calvert and ask if he was running any cattle on the wheat right now. She squinted, trying to catch sight of a possible herd, but they would already be down by the barns, eating and getting ready to snug in for the night.
If she left the gate open, cattle would be scattered all up and down the county road before sunup. Damn, damn, damn! She glanced at her cell phone beside her on the seat. She could call Luc if she had enough bars. His number would be easy to find in her purse. She grabbed the phone, punched it on and nothing. Continue Reading »


I’m a native Texan and have lived here all my life. Seems like I’d be a little wary about venturing out on the highway in the face of an ice storm, on a journey of 440 miles. Unfortunately notsnowy-iris

We didn’t get started from Houston until 1:00 p.m. The temperature stood at 50 degrees. I’ve been making that trip to our old family farm every six to eight weeks for over fifty years (a round trip of almost a thousand miles). I thought I’d seen it all. Continue Reading »

You can have the greatest story concept in the world, but unless you have conflict you won’t have dramatic tension.

Basically, your line of conflict is the obstacle course you put your main character through so she wins her goal or mission and regains control of her life. That’s from Spielberg. Remember his definition of story? Someone loses control of his life and then regains it.

Conflict, obstacles, loss of control. These engender dramatic questions that create dramatic tension. The story problem, the outside conflict, tells your reader what to worry about. Soon enough he will discover the protagonist’s inner conflict, his ghosts and hidden demons.

Good storytellers learn how to think about their story. Stories evolve, in our minds or on the page. I don’t believe this process can be hurried. I like to take my time, noodling my story through after inventing intricate, conflicted characters who embark on an adventure.

Creating Characters

Any creation is a god-like act, and creating characters is totally god-like. Most writers turn the act around. They perceive the character in a flash and then embark on a voyage of discovery, trying to figure out who and what this character is and what makes him/her act or react in certain ways. Perhaps this is going about the job backwards. Here’s how I start. Continue Reading »

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