Please help me welcome Kathy, author of A Good Kind of Knowing.

Good Kind of Knowing is a novel about the power of music and friendship, the relationship two-steps that go on in old Texas dancehalls, and the secret to finding just a little bit of common ground in a world full of distrust.

Sera Taylor’s store is the one place in Lakeville, Texas, where individuals from all walks of life share a universal love for music and a respect for the gypsy-like woman behind the antique glass counter. Readers get a taste of the unorthodox connection between Sera and Mack, a young local cowboy and musician, and Sera’s previously untested devotion to her husband Bill. They learn of her relationship with Ruby D., the vibrant but misguided mother of five; with Louie, the shy high school band director; with Beverly, the religious, upper-class socialite; with Antonio, a local bar owner striving to make a life for himself; with Tommy Lee, a rich and directionless gigolo; and with Wes, the only out-of-the closet gay man for miles. As Sera battles a serious illness, the characters must overcome long-held stereotypes to save Sera’s store, and in the end, large parts of themselves.

Here’s an excerpt:

“Shug?” Bill called from the living room, using his shortened version of “sugar.”

“In here,” she said.

Sera listened to the slow, clunking saunter of his steel-toed boots on the hardwood floor and waited for him to find her. She slipped her worn, baby pink cotton robe slightly off her left shoulder, the one facing the door.

Bill walked in the bathroom, ignoring her attempt at being a tease, surveyed the mess in the room and shook his head. “You’re taking a bath in chocolate milk?”

Sera smiled without answering as she poured the dark, creamy liquid from a lukewarm plastic gallon into the clawfoot porcelain tub, which was already filled halfway to the top with hot water. She sat on the edge of the tub, her long legs tucked behind her to keep balance. Empty jugs littered the white tile floor.

“Wanna join me? This is going to feel wonderful. And great for the skin.” She swirled two fingers in and brought a drop to her lips. “Tastes good, too.”

Bill walked over, pushed the brim of his maroon baseball cap back, and peered into the tub. From his steady square chin to his kind, Santa Claus eyes, Sera loved to watch his whole face shape into a smile, his smile—a grin that pulled every muscle in his tanned cheeks toward the sky. And all without hinting he might have teeth in there somewhere.

“Some of your ideas, Sera. I swear.”

“Chicken.” She tossed an empty jug at him and little drops of chocolate dotted his already badly stained, snap-down shirt.

Bill chuckled. “I’ll be out back.”

Sera slipped off her robe and stepped into the tub, one leg at a time, and then lowered her body gently into the smooth milk bath. She breathed in the rich, sweet smell and watched swirls of air bubbles move around her. She raised one calf out of the bath to see the streams of chocolate running down her pale leg and laughed out loud. Some of her ideas. She’d read about this in Redbook or some other magazine, she couldn’t remember. The milk was supposed to soften and rejuvenate the skin, except the article called for half-and-half cream or whole milk. It was Sera’s idea to add the chocolate.

She’d hoped Bill would join her. But she hadn’t expected it. You’d think after twenty-three years of marriage, she’d stop hoping. The day Bill Taylor put a toe in a bathtub of chocolate milk … but then unconventionalism and excitement weren’t what attracted her to him, even in the beginning.

At eighteen years old, fresh out of a West Coast high school, Sera had been visiting her cousins in Texas when she first met Bill. Right away, she’d been drawn in by his rugged calmness, his warm predictability. Such a contrast to most of the people who’d made up her life to that point. Of course, he was older, too. Sera’s cousins had lived in the next county their whole lives, and they said Bill had been out on his own for easily twelve years.

Sera had caught his glance at the local livestock show and dance—Bill, standing in a group of older ranchers, hands in his back pockets, boots kicking around an empty, discarded beer can; Sera, demanding attention in her tight white jeans and red western shirt tied at the waist. As unlikely a match as he was for her, she’d known she had to have him. Even if it meant staying on in this little Texas town for the summer.

Who would’ve guessed one summer would turn into a lifetime?

Sera could hear the faint beat of one of Bill’s eight-tracks playing in the garage. Probably Merle Haggard, she thought. The one about silver wings. She liked that one—she and Bill always danced closer than usual when local bands played it. She closed her eyes and could feel the rhythm of Bill’s unique two-step, the way he always swayed slightly on the second step, his weighty arms around her.

Sera relaxed into the bath, letting the silky fluid reach her throat and ears and coat the ringlets of auburn hair that fell from her loosely gathered bun. She ran her fingers under each of her arms and then began gently kneading in a circle on her left breast. Sera knew she’d probably been too lax in her monthly self-exams, hitting and missing a month or so here and there. But remembering to do the exams meant allowing a hint of worry, and well, that just wasn’t something Sera enjoyed all that much. Foolish? Probably. But sometimes a buried fear and the knowledge of the past can take what should be logic and twist it all around until you can ignore it. Kind of like a light bulb that’s been burned out for a while. You know you should replace it, but the thought rarely enters your mind until you stub your toe in the dark.

Almost mindlessly, she moved her palms in circles on her abdomen, enjoying the feel of the milk water on her skin. Her hand froze on her stomach, right below her belly button. She pressed against her skin. A strange hardness.

She pushed and felt around the area. Back to the middle.

Same hard circle. Like she’d swallowed a stone.

Best of luck with your new release, Kathy!  Thanks for being our guest.