Spotlight & Giveaway: The Lone Star Lawman by Justine Davis

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Justine Davis to HJ!

Hi Justine and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, The Lone Star Lawman!

Please summarize the book for the readers here:

Wearing a badge is in Shane Highwater’s blood. He’s worked hard and built a reputation for being both fair and approachable. Only one person in his beloved home town of Last Stand, Texas, would argue this, and unfortunately that person is Liliana Jones, who blames him for her fiance’s death…and who is also the only woman to stir Shane in a more personal way in a very long time.
 

Please share the opening lines of this book:

“Shane Highwater swore, but quietly; this was the library, after all. But even here he couldn’t escape that woman? If it wasn’t beneath the dignity of the police chief of Last Stand, he’d try and sneak out the back.”

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

The original working title was a mundane “Last Stand #1 – Shane”, but in a way that encapsulates a lot of my feelings about this book as the first one in my first series for Last Stand. Because in my head, that #1 is followed by the phrase “of many.” And it feels that way even more now, because I’m in love with this town and this family! I’ve always loved Texas, and especially the Hill Country since my first visit to Gruene long ago, so just getting to set a series here was inspiration in itself. The actual writing process was helped along by a funky little banjo-laced instrumental piece (while they may be inspirational, I can’t write to music with lyrics because I get sucked up into the words) called “Rattlesnake Bandits,” — https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qmDusIH5vQQ — which played on an endless loop unless I was in the middle of a really emotional scene, in which case I switched over to something more appropriate. Sound Fuel is a writer’s friend!

Please tell us a little about the characters in your book. As you wrote your protagonist was there anything about them that surprised you?

When we first were brainstorming Last Stand, Jane Porter, Tule’s dynamic founder, said she pictured my police chief as someone anybody in town could turn to. That was my starting point, and I ended up with a man who took his responsibilities very seriously and worked at being approachable; the people of Last Stand are his people. The most startling thing I learned about him was that unwillingly and unknowingly until it was too late, he’s become a viral internet sensation. Videos of varying degrees of heroics, from handling a stampede of longhorns down main street to taking down a man with a bomb, and another mysteriously leaked from someone as yet undiscovered in his own department, have made the police hunky chief of Last Stand much more famous—and more of a sex-symbol—than he ever wanted to be. And he hates it! I had no idea that was coming.

If your book was optioned for a movie, what scene would you use for the audition of the main characters and why?

Heaven forbid! Seriously, I have control issues over my stories. I may edit and polish them like crazy, but every word is mine, and to turn them over to somebody else to cut up and reassemble would be painful. Well, unless I got full casting approval, maybe… But I would probably chose the first scene where the hero and heroine actually have it out about the tension between them, and what she blames him for, the death of her fiance.

“You’re not much like your brother, are you?” she said with a nod toward the saloon.
“What I am,” he said, sounding suddenly weary, “is tired, very tired of you on my case every time you see me. What’s it going to take to stop it?”
“How about admitting the truth?” It came out sharper than she’d intended, but something about that weary tone, as if she were merely some annoying gnat flitting around him, set her off the rest of the way.
“All right. Fine. It was my fault.”
She blinked. “What?”
“It’s my fault he’s dead. Isn’t that what you wanted to hear?”
“I…”
“I should have just ignored the arrest warrant and let him go.”
The way he said that made it sound like just another way of saying he’d only been doing his job. And that stiffened her spine again. “He didn’t deserve to be treated like a…a common criminal! The warrant could have been served normally, not sprung on him like that.”
He stared at her, clearly astonished. “You’re this mad because I didn’t go and politely knock on his door?”
“I’m mad because he’s dead! Why didn’t you just shoot him? It would have been cleaner than dying horribly in a burning car!”
“Because the last time I checked embezzlement doesn’t carry the death penalty!”
Her jaw dropped. It was the first time he had ever snapped back. She’d finally broken through. And she was suddenly aware of how he towered over her. It was all she could do not to quail. Shane Highwater was imposing enough calm; angry he was fearsome. She steeled her spine.
“But he’s just as dead as if it did, after you chased him like that!”
“And I couldn’t have chased him if he hadn’t run! And he’d still be alive.”
The bottom-line truth of that stabbed at her, and she couldn’t find any words to answer. And they were drawing attention. She could almost feel people even up on Main Street looking their way. She’d finally shaken him out of that legendary calm, but it turned out she was the one who was rattled.

What do you want people to take away from reading this book?

I want them to fall in love with Shane Highwater the way I did! And Last Stand itself, with its fascinating history and all the descendents of the people who fought the actual last stand who still live there. It’s such a great example of a modern day town that still honors a unique history.

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have planned?

I’ve just finished my second Last Stand book, (Lone Star Nights, due out in August) which features the second Highwater brother, Slater, the keeper of the famous Last Stand Saloon where the historic battle that gave the town its name took place. And I’m well into number three, which will be a Christmas story. On other fronts, I have the latest in my Cutter’s Code series for HRS out this month as well, OPERATION HERO’S WATCH. And in May, I’ll be concluding my latest trilogy in the Coalition Rebellion futuristic romance series with the release of RENEGADE.
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: Tule tote, copy of ebook The Lone Star Lawman and Tule swag. 

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Excerpt from The Lone Star Lawman:

Shane Highwater swore, but quietly. This was the library, after all. But even here he couldn’t escape that woman? If it wasn’t beneath the dignity of the police chief of Last Stand, he’d try and sneak out the back. He’d only have to make it across the parking lot and he’d be back to the department where he could hole up in his office and his very capable aide could bar the door.
He nearly laughed out loud, but it turned into a smothered groan. Sneaking out? Holing up? Had he really contemplated running from that tiny little thing in baby blue? He could just picture it, a guy six two, a hundred and ninety-five pounds of mostly muscle, and a cop to boot, scampering away from a woman who barely topped five three and was maybe one fifteen if she was carrying a dictionary. If Asa Fuhrmann, the iconic hero of the actual last stand the town was named for, and whose statue stood outside this very building, was still around he’d be laughing at him. And rightfully so.
Not to mention with his luck lately, there’d be somebody with a phone posting it on social media within five minutes, and the last thing he wanted was more freaking videos of himself whizzing around the internet.
At least she hadn’t spotted him yet. And apparently she hadn’t seen him come in and then followed him like she usually would, since she was looking at bookshelves not searching the building. He felt the familiar mental click as he registered the fact that she was looking at actual books. He himself preferred the paper variety; he spent altogether too much time already in front of screens of various sorts to want to read on one for pleasure.
She turned and bent to look at a lower shelf, and he was presented with a trim derriere in snug blue denim, with back pockets that seemed to make his fingers curl.
That’s what you get for even thinking the word pleasure.
He’d never denied Liliana Jones was a good-looking woman. She had that long sweep of hair the color of fall leaves, red and gold and brown all at once, today held back, braided in some intricate pattern he couldn’t figure out. She also had that cute upturned nose, and a sort of easy grace he liked. Then there were those eyes of hers, that some days looked green, others almost golden. And all that wasn’t counting the nice curves in the right places.
But it was hard to remember all that about someone who seemed out for his blood every time he encountered her. Not that he wanted to feel attracted. To any woman, let alone this one. In fact, he found it rather annoying that the first woman in a long time to spark any interest was this one.
No, he was quite happy with the way things were. Happy to be on his own, free and footloose. Happy to be able to focus completely on his job, which required his full attention. And that job was the only connection he had or would ever have to this particular woman. And he’d stay happy if he could manage not to have her up in his face again, hurling accusations.
She’d selected a book from the lower shelf—she was in the new fiction section, he noted—and straightened to look inside it. And standing up that backside view was still something to be appreciated. Admired.
And avoided.
Deciding it wasn’t really running—he’d only come over to get the book already in his hand, after all—he turned and headed for the desk. Quietly. Not because of her but because…well, library.
“Chief Highwater,” the young woman at the checkout said, also quietly. And quite respectfully; no way Joella Douglas would make a scene. Especially not in her workplace, although the crayon-red streak in her hair belied her tranquil attitude. In here, at least; he had little contact with her outside. Which was, in a way, proof of a sort.
“Ms. Douglas,” Shane said with a smile as she scanned the bar code on the book, then on the small card that hung on his key ring.
She smiled back, acknowledging his formal address. She believed in it, in this place she clearly revered; outside she was Joey to one and all. But he was still Chief Highwater. One of the perks—or annoyances—of his job.
She closed the book and handed it to him. “Fitting,” she said.
“What?” He flexed his right shoulder, stretching the tightness he hoped he’d be rid of soon, as he looked down at the slim copy of All’s Well That Ends Well. Was she saying his life was a comedy? Right now he wasn’t sure he’d argue that, although he’d chosen the play simply because it was next in line on his reading list. Every few years he went through Shakespeare again, for the sound and the rhythm as much as the sense.
“‘Trust a few, do wrong to none,’” she quoted. “Describes you pretty well.”
He smiled at her then. “I notice you left out ‘Love all.’”
“Hard to do in your job, I imagine.”
“It has its moments,” he agreed.
“See you at the party tomorrow,” Joey said, clearly referring to the yearly gathering to celebrate the birthday of Minna Herdmann. The centenarian-plus was the most famous local character in town, as much a monument as that statue in front of this building, and while the annual gatherings were a chore for the department he personally admired the heck out of that tough, spry old lady. And found himself grinning every year when it rolled around; they’d begun it on her ninety-fifth birthday, figuring the odds were she only had a year or two left, and here they—and she—were, seven years later, still going strong.
“Along with the entire town, at some point,” he answered. “I think it’s a requirement of living in Last Stand.”
With a teasing grin, Joey added, “I heard she turned down the mayor as her escort in your favor.”
Shane grinned back. “Not much of a compliment, huh?”
Joey laughed. “She is an amazing woman.”
“Yes, she is.” He suddenly wondered if Ms. Jones was going to show up tomorrow. He turned his head slightly to see if he could spot her back among the shelves.
Joey was quiet for a moment, then said, “If you speak to your brother, tell him that book he wanted is in.”
He looked back and saw she was smiling shyly at him. He knew she had to mean Slater, since Sean was a die-hard e-book reader. Although he didn’t know what made her think he’d be speaking to Slater; that they rarely did—civilly at least—was hardly a secret in Last Stand.
“Let me guess,” he said dryly, “Plato’s Symposium or the like?”
She actually dimpled. What the heck? “Actually, it’s a history of the revolution.”
She didn’t have to explain which revolution, not standing here in Texas. But he was still puzzled. “We all know that, inside out. Dad made sure of it.”
She hesitated, then said quietly, respectfully, “Your dad was the best speaker on our history that I ever heard.”
The old pain stabbed, but he kept it hidden. He always kept it hidden. Good ol’ level-headed, always-calm Shane Highwater, that was him. “He was good at it.”
“I always liked him. As chief, too. He was tough, but fair—”
“Too bad he didn’t pass that down.”
He’d waited too long. He smothered a sigh but didn’t turn to look at the woman who’d come up to the counter. Joey was frowning, but said nothing.
“Thanks, Ms. Douglas,” he said and turned to go.
“Coward.”
It came from behind him, the voice sharp, and too loud for the silence here. He stopped, closed his eyes for a count of three. Thought of something he’d read about a person who consumed one and a half times their weight in other people’s patience. Then he turned back. He made sure his voice was level.
“For not fomenting a scene in a public library?” With a reporter for the town paper? “That’s just good judgment.”
“Inferring that’s something I don’t have?”
He reminded himself she was in pain, much like the pain he’d just stifled within himself. He could see it in her eyes, glinting gold today. “Have I ever said that?”
“No, you just keep giving me that ‘I’m being so patient with you’ look.”
He sensed rather than saw Joey stiffen. “He is, but I’m not. If you can’t keep it down, you’ll have to leave,” she said abruptly. For a quiet person, Joella Douglas had a steel spine, Shane thought. And a bit of the fire the streak in her hair hinted at. But then, she was Texas born and bred.
“Which will also end up being my fault,” Shane said, regretting it the moment the words were out. First rule of his job: never let them get to you. He’d failed at not only that but the corollary: if they do get to you never let them see they’re getting to you.
“Figures you’d side with him, because of his brother,” his nemesis said to Joey. And to Shane’s astonishment the young assistant librarian blushed furiously. He remembered that moment when she’d told him about the book she was holding for Slater. He nearly gaped at her. His scapegrace, saloon-keeping brother and…the librarian?
More like your master’s degree, high IQ, philosopher by bent brother.
“I’m not siding with anyone,” Joey said, recovering. “And I understand today is…a rough day for you. But I’m merely enforcing the policies of this library.”
The woman had the grace to look abashed. Her cheeks went as pink as Joey’s had. And it was in a voice full of contrition that she said, “I’m sorry, Joey. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“Words I’ll never hear,” Shane muttered.
“She’s only doing her job,” Ms. Jones said, her voice still apologetic.
Shane lifted a brow at the woman. He didn’t say the obvious, that he’d only been doing his job, because he’d said them a half dozen times before and it hadn’t made a cow patty’s worth of difference. In Liliana Jones’s view, he was directly responsible for the death that had blasted her life to bits. No amount of talk or explanation was going to change that.
But at least she let it drop, for Joey’s sake no doubt. Another of those little mental clicks came as she followed up apology with action. So at least she wasn’t one of those who apologized and then kept doing exactly the same thing she’d just apologized for. And she let him escape—oh, that’s a fine word for it, Highwater—without further attack.
He cleared the back door and breathed normally again. Compared to their other encounters, this one had been fairly mild. The real irony was he kind of admired her for her loyalty and determination that no one forget about Chad Crittendon. That the guy had been a lying scumbag who hadn’t deserved a woman like her or that kind of loyalty wasn’t really her fault, because she’d obviously only ever seen the charming front Crittendon had put on for her. And, he reminded himself yet again, she didn’t know the whole story. And wouldn’t, probably ever.
Still, he wondered why today was any rougher than any other day for her.
He strode across the parking lot, denying he was hurrying in case she had a change of heart and tried to catch up with him. But he wondered if maybe he should have grabbed The Taming of the Shrew instead. Decided not, since it was his least favorite. Not to mention that he doubted any of the tactics in that play would even begin to work on Liliana Jones. But neither did politeness and calm, gentleness or kindness.
And as he finally reached the haven of his office, all he could think was that bending over backward was a difficult position to defend yourself in.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

He never lets anything get to him. Except her.

Police Chief Shane Highwater has the respect of the entire town of Last Stand, Texas, and they all believe he was blameless when an accident several months ago ended one life and tore apart another. All except reporter Liliana Jones, who blames him for her fiancé’s death.

There’s more to the story than she knows, secrets that might change her mind. Secrets Shane can’t tell her. But oh, does he want to, because Lily Jones is the first woman he’s been undeniably drawn to in a very long time.

When a tragedy in town throws them together, Lily is forced to admit Shane is everything everyone said he was and ignoring the growing attraction is near impossible, and she’s no longer sure she wants to. Has her change of heart come too late?

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Meet the Author:

Author of more than 70 books, (she sold her first ten in less than two years) Justine Davis is a five time winner of the coveted RWA RITA Award, including for being inducted into the RWA Hall of Fame. A fifteen time nominee for RT Book Review awards, she has won four times, received three of their lifetime achievement awards, and had four titles on the magazine’s 200 Best of all Time list. Her books have appeared on national best seller lists, including USA Today. She has been featured on CNN, taught at several national and international conferences, and at the UCLA writer’s program.

After years of working in law enforcement, and more years doing both, Justine now writes full time. She lives near beautiful Puget Sound in Washington State, peacefully coexisting with deer, bears, a pair of bald eagles, a tailless raccoon, and her beloved ’67 Corvette roadster. When she’s not writing, taking photographs, or driving said roadster (and yes, it goes very fast) she tends to her knitting. Literally.
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