On a ranch known as Hawk’s Peak, a family celebrates love, joy, and peace at last . . . or so the Gallaghers thought.
Briarwood, Montana TerritoryDecember 1883
Brenna is convinced she hears a woman singing to her son. Eliza and Ethan are unnerved by a sleepwalker, and Isabelle swears Hawk’s Peak is haunted.
Then an unlikely visitor stumbles into their lives.
Enjoy a heartwarming holiday adventure filled with tenderness, hope, and the promise of a better tomorrow for more than one deserving soul. Join us for a Gallagher Christmas at Hawk’s Peak and fall in love with the family all over again.
What could possibly go wrong at Christmas?
MK McClintock is the award-winning author of several books and short stories, including the popular "Montana Gallagher" series, the "Crooked Creek" series set in post-Civil War Montana, and the highly-acclaimed "British Agent" novels. She spins tales of romance, adventure, and mystery set in the 1800s. With her heart deeply rooted in the past and her mind always on adventure, she lives a quiet life in the Rocky Mountains.
Learn more about MK by visiting her website: http://www.mkmcclintock.com.
GENRES: historical western romance, historical romantic mystery, western short stories, gratitude and writing journals
Living through a Montana winter can be challenging, but nothing compared to what it would have been like in the 1800s. Even so, there is such beauty that comes with the snow and cold, starry nights.
An Angel Called Gallagher
White clouds of warm breath snaked through the cold air. She held her hands in front of her mouth in an effort to bring heat to her stiff fingers. Fresh snow had covered the land while she tried to sleep, and she didn’t want to sleep too long for fear that the small fire would dwindle. Two thin pieces of wood leaned against the inside of the small black pail. She tucked her feet under her legs and pressed them into her chest. The wool blanket was thin and only warm enough for a cool day, not bitter winter nights. When the sun dipped behind the mountains and the moon rose, the cold seeped past the blanket and into her bones.