Shannon here: Janalyn Voigt shares a romantic excerpt from her Western Historical Romance, Hills of Nevermore. Comment or answer the question in any post dated Aug 4th – 28th to enter the drawing for winner’s choice of one print copy from the Montana Gold series plus 3 other titles. Deadline: Sept 5th, 11:59 pm central time:
America Liberty Reed is a young widow who makes her way to Bannack City in Idaho Territory. She and another widow are resting and sprucing up in the hotel after the long wagon train journey. America is too wound up to sleep.
She goes out to the balcony to keep her restlessness from waking the other widow and her baby. Two men speak together in the hotel, but she can’t make out what they are saying. Lingering doesn’t feel like eavesdropping, and the cadence of one voice in particular draws her. She leans over the rail to hear it better.
Excerpt from Hills of Nevermore (Montana Gold, book 1) by Janalyn Voigt:
A door whined open and thudded shut. Boots thumped on the wooden porch boards. The footsteps stopped underneath America. She jerked upright, heat flaring in her cheeks. It wouldn’t do to be caught hanging over the balcony rail like a hoyden.
“I’m not the one you should ask,” a deep voice rumbled. “Sheriff Plummer’s your man, and he’s gone off to Sun River to get hitched.”
“Are you not the owner of this hotel?”
About to steal toward the balcony door and escape, America paused, arrested by his accent. Now that she could hear it better, he must be Irish.
“Well, yes, but—”
“Tell me. Do you fear God, Atticus?”
“Of course I do, but I also fear the mischief this town might get into if we close the saloons and bars for an entire day.”
“Do you really believe that?”
Silence followed, punctuated by a whinny from the stables.
“Ask Sheriff Plummer when he returns.”
“And that’s your whole mind on the matter?”
“It is.”
“Very well.”
At any moment, one or both of the men could step onto the boardwalk and find her out. America eyed the closed balcony door. She’d never reach it without her footsteps being heard. Even if she could, the handle might rattle. The door would probably creak on its hinges, betraying her. She’d left it too late to make her presence known without embarrassment and would have to brazen things out, and the sooner, the better. She drew breath to announce herself.
A single pair of boot steps crossed the porch. The door screeched open and slammed shut. The other man thumped across the porch, and the door opened and shut again.
America let out her breath, weak with relief. Both men had gone inside, but what in the world had they been talking about?
A commotion started. Did it have something to do with the conversation she’d overheard? Her curiosity overruled caution, and she crept forward to listen. Raised voices and laughter reached her and, could it be—
Surely not . . . singing?
Feet scuffled, the door burst open, and a man splatted into the muddy street.
America stifled her gasp.
A man wearing a black bowler edged into sight on the porch steps. “Stop pushing in where you’re not invited.” He rubbed his hands together. “Come to think of it, I should have blacked your other eye.”
The man in the street lay still as if stunned. An urge to go to his aid took possession of America, but she didn’t know enough about the situation and shouldn’t take such a risk. She had her baby to consider.
He turned his head, scraped mud from his face, and sat up. His blue eyes, made more striking by the purple bruise ringing one of them, focused on her.
America stood transfixed, unable to speak. She felt as if they had somehow touched.
He collected his slouch hat, which had fallen near him. “All right, Atticus,” he said in lilting Irish tones. “I won’t sing anymore, but I will speak.”
Atticus pushed his bowler back on his head, revealing hair the color of a fox’s tail. His gray coat, black vest, and gray trousers matched the formality of his bowler hat. “Stay out of my hotel, Shane.”
“He’s as hardheaded as they come,” a second man, out of America’s sight, slurred. “Maybe we should get it over and done with.” A gun bolt clicked.
“Gentlemen!” America spoke without thought, sounding far calmer than she felt.
Atticus tilted his head and looked upward.
She mustered the courage to speak. “I feel the need to inform you of my presence.”
“Well, I’ll be hanged!” A man sprang from the porch onto the boardwalk. He turned toward her while a fraying hat that might have once been tan flopped about his head. Gray threaded his faded brown beard and hair. He wore black suspenders, without which his trousers would have sloughed off his thin frame. “Where’d you come from?” He waved his gun hand in a way that made her wonder how much liquor he’d consumed.
America found her tongue again. “I must apologize. I meant only to take the air, but I seem to have intruded into a private matter.”
Atticus gave a smooth smile. “Please don’t take it to heart, ma’am. There’s no harm done. I’m Atticus Merrick, owner of this establishment.”
“Thank you for your assurances, Mr. Merrick, but I must ask that you release this unfortunate fellow. I heard talk of shooting him, but a gunshot would wake my baby.”
Reader Question: Have you ever been in an awkward situation where you had to brazen your way through, like the heroine of Hills of Nevermore?
August 2026 Book Bundle
Ribbons of Guilt by Laura Thomas, Romantic Suspense, ebook
New Beginnings in Shady Springs by Sarah Anne Crouch, Contemporary Romance, ebook
A Troubling Rogue by Betty Woods, Historical Romance, print
Winner’s Choice of one Montana Gold book by Janalyn Voigt, Western Historical Fiction, print
About Janalyn: Janalyn Voigt fell in love with literature an early age when her father read chapters from childhood classics to her as bedtime stories. After she grew older, Janalyn put herself to sleep with tales of her own. She trained more formally in writing through Christian Writers Guild.
Janalyn writes in several genres. She is the Amazon-bestselling author of the Montana Gold western historical romance series. New York Times bestselling author Eric Wilson wrote the forward for Janalyn’s medieval epic fantasy series, Tales of Faeraven. Readers often describe Janalyn’s books as lyrical and transporting. Learn more and connect:
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About the book – Hills of Nevermore: 
Can a young widow hide her secret shame from the Irish circuit preacher bent on helping her survive?
In an Idaho Territory boom town, America Liberty Reed overhears circuit preacher Shane Hayes try to persuade a hotel owner to close his saloon on Sunday. Shane lands face-down in the mud for his trouble, and there’s talk of shooting him. America intervenes and finds herself in an unexpectedly personal conversation with the blue-eyed preacher. Certain she has angered God in the past, she shies away from Shane.
Addie Martin, another widow, invites America to help in her cook tent in Virginia City, the new mining town. Even with Addie’s teenage son helping with America’s baby, life is hard. Shane urges America to depart for a more civilized location. Neither Shane’s persuasions nor road agents, murder, sickness, or vigilante violence can sway America. Loyalty and ambition hold her fast until dire circumstances force her to confront everything she believes about herself, Shane, and God.
Based on actual historical events during a time of unrest in America, Hills of Nevermore explores faith, love, and courage in the wild west.
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