Meet Claire Croxton

A Little Background on this fun author. 

After spending over a decade as a technical writer in Northern Alaska, Claire Croxton chucked aside her mukluks, loaded up her cats and relocated to a farm in Japton, Arkansas to pursue a career in writing fiction.

She had no idea there were places more remote than tiny, Iñupiaq villages with no road access, yet she managed to find one. The woods of Madison County are inspirational and she has written several contemporary romances, which she refers to as soul-searching snark. They are filled with unique characters-strong, bold women and knock-your-bloomers-off hot men. Sure they're flawed, but who cares? Have you seen their abs?

In addition to writing, she serves on the board of the Ozark Writers League and is the president of the Oklahoma Writers Federation, Inc. Her non-writing time is spent managing Sunflower Heritage Farms where she raises heritage breed rabbits, chickens, geese, sheep, goats, hogs and the occasional Mammoth donkey.

More

Redneck Ex took 3rd Place in the Preditor and Editors 2012 Romance Book of the Year.

Blurb:

With one twang of a banjo string, Summer Leigh Johnson's tidy, organized life in Barrow, Alaska is jolted back to the Ozarks when her coon-hunting, tobacco-chewing, bull-riding, redneck ex-husband asks for her help. She has two options: turn her back on him like he did to her eleven years ago, or help. Burdened with the curse of every southern woman--What Would Mama Do?--she goes to his aid. And what does she find? The man she fell in love with all those years ago and a second chance at love and family. The last time she gave her heart to Dwight, he flicked it aside like an empty can of Skoal. This time he's cradling it as gently as he would a speckled pup. It will take a lot more than Dwight's southern charm and good looks to convince Summer to stay.

Excerpt:

“You’re going to Germany?”

“Yeah.” I stepped into the bathroom and grabbed some Tylenol before taking my original seat. The pills stuck in my throat and I washed them down with lukewarm coffee.

“Why the hell would you go see your ex-husband?” Her red face clearly indicated her anger.

“His parents were always good to me,” I tried to explain. “Generous and kind. Always made me feel like a part of the family.”

“Screw that!” Janice interjected herself into the conversation in her usual gentle manner. “Any debt to them was paid when their ass-of-a-son left you.”

“We didn’t even know you’d been married.” Bernice sounded tentative and worried. “How much can this man mean to you if your best friends don’t even know about him?” She took my hands, rubbed them softly and asked, “Why would you go to him? Especially after all these years?”

“For God’s sake. I’d never go see my ex!” Janice exclaimed.

“We all know you wouldn’t piss on your ex if he were on fire...” Stephanie said.

“I would if I peed gasoline!”

We laughed.

“Not everyone abhors their ex,” I said.

“You might not detest your ex, but God knows you don’t like the guy,” Janice said. “Never. Once. In the eight years I’ve known you have you even mentioned him. Never! How can you go to him now?”

“Because if I refuse to go and something happened to him, I’d never be able to forgive myself.”

Stephanie and Candy nodded in understanding, but I could tell, Janice and Bernice needed more convincing.

“Look at it this way, how can I be a martyr if I don’t go?” I joked.