Guest Post – Jan Sikes





Luke Stone has cheated death so many times he’s lost count. He’s  been everything from a simple poor country kid to a roughneck, a singing star and a convict.


But nothing compares to the satisfaction he finds with the woman who sets his out-of-kilter world back on track. When Darlina danced her way into his heart so many years past, he never dreamed she would stick with him through thick and thin to finally, after he endures many years locked behind bars, become his wife.


And now, to have a second chance at making music, simply proves that secretly held dreams can come true.

He knows he won’t be filling the Texas dancehalls, honky-tonks and auditoriums as he did in his younger days but that doesn’t matter. He’s writing and singing again only this time Darlina joins him writing her own songs and performing with him.


But fate has other ideas and the forlorn hooting of an owl or a lonesome train whistle in the dead of night warn him not to get too comfortable.


He’s learned to pay attention to these signs as they are never wrong. Even so, he charges full steam ahead determined to leave a lasting legacy and make his family proud.


With sand in the hourglass of time running thin, Luke and Darlina draw on each other’s strengths to persevere through trials that would destroy a lesser man and woman.




ONLINE_3D_Cover_TilDeathDoUsPartThis is the fourth book in a series of true stories.


Jan’s Website 

Amazon eBook 

Texas Authors







Award winning author, Jan Sikes, writes true stories in a creative and entertaining way. Her current project is a trilogy which chronicles her life with veteran Texas musician, Rick Sikes. She also releases music CDs with each book. Jan has written songs, poetry, short stories, screenplays and novels


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Its, A Mother’s Day Poem

A very special Mother’s Day poem, written by my friend Patricia Garcia. I’m convinced you as well will admire this unbelievable gift as much as I do.

Walk On

Durable, flexible, intelligent,

Best workhorses ever created.

Eyes pained.

Backs flogged.

These its,

These puny its have no value.

Mouths starved.

Necks choked.

Shoulders bruised.

Torsos kicked.


These its,

These puny its have no voices.

Legs spread wide.

Ears boxed.

Faces slapped.

Hair unkempt.

These its,

These puny its have no value.

Who are these its?

Forgotten and unacknowledged,

Running, pleading, fearing for their lives.

These its,

These puny its have no voices.

The brunt of war carried in their flesh.

While men pat themselves on the back for heroism.

These its,

These puny its have no value.

Oh, women of the world,

I know today is Mother’s Day,

But your its are being attacked.

Bellies impregnated by rape,

Faces scarred by encrusted, scabrous hands,

Disfigured bodies with lost limbs,

These its,

These puny its have no voices.




Shot down,

Their psyches damaged.

These its,


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