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Important things to note when ordering print books:

  • Therefore, although we are no longer able to offer “autographed copy” hardcovers, Marcia WILL autograph hardcover books for you if you request them.  It will, however, significantly slow down the arrival of your order. (To request an autograph, simply e-mail us at marcialmcclure@cs.com immediately after ordering your hardcover books.)

Indebted Deliverance

Historical Romance

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Indebted Deliverance

SNOWBOUND AND ISOLATED, SHE HAD NO ALTERNATIVE BUT TO ENDURE THE WINTER IN THE COMPANIONSHIP OF THE BRUTAL RACE TREVELIAN…

Chalyce LaSalle had been grateful to the handsome recluse, Race Trevelian, when he had delivered her from certain tragedy one frigid winter day. He was addictively attractive, powerful, and intriguing, and there was something else about him—an air of secreted internal torture. Yet as the brutal character of her emancipator began to manifest, Chalyce commenced in wondering whether the fate she now faced would be any less insufferable than the one from which he had delivered her.

Still, his very essence beckoned hers. She was drawn to him, and her soul whispered that his mind needed deliverance as desperately as she had needed rescue that cold, winter’s noon.


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The Unobtainable One

Historical Romance

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THE CHILD WAS STRAWBERRY-SWEET AND LOVING…
BUT THE MAN WAS FORBIDDEN FRUIT.

Annette Jordan had accepted the unavoidable reality that she must toil as a governess to provide for herself. Thankfully, her charge was a joy—a vision of youthful beauty, owning a spirit of delight.

But it was Annette’s employer, Lord Gareth Barrett, who proved to be the trial—for she soon found herself living in the all-too-cliché governess’s dream of having fallen desperately in love with the man who provided her wages.

The child loved her, but could she endure watching hopelessly as the beautiful woman from a neighboring property won Lord Barrett’s affections?


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The General’s Ambition

Historical Romance

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SHE HAD BEEN SELECTED TO MARRY
AND BEAR THE PROGENY OF THE SON…

Seemingly overnight, Renee Millings found herself orphaned and married to the indescribably handsome but ever-frowning Roque Montan. His father, the General, was obsessively determined that his lineage would continue posthaste—with or without consent of his son’s new bride.

But when Roque reveals the existence of a sworn oath that will obstruct his father’s ambition, will the villainous General conspire to ensure the future of his coveted progeny to be borne by Renee himself? Will Renee find the only means of escape from the odious General to be that of his late wife—death? Or will the son find no tolerance for his father’s diabolic plotting concerning the woman Roque legally terms his wife?


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Romance with a Side of Green Chile

Contemporary Romance

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All at once, Talli felt the ball of her right foot catch on the pavement. As she stumbled forward, she tried to steady her footing, but it was too late. The downward slope of the paved path down to the field was just too steep, and she squealed a bit as she felt herself fall forward. As her stomach and chest collided with the ground, she felt her chin graze the pavement—felt her legs whip up over her back for a moment before she came to rest sprawled out like a cartoon character who had just hit a brick wall.

“Hey! Are you all right?” a deep voice asked.

Still struggling to draw breath—the awful panic of having the air pushed so forcibly from her lungs threatening to shove her into hysterics—Talli nodded, gasping, “Yeah…yeah…I’m fine.”

“I don’t think you’re fine,” the deep voice doubted.

Then Talli felt strong hands assisting her to roll over onto her back, as several other passersby stopped, each asking, “Are you okay?”

Talli’s heart plunged to the bottom of her stomach. For as she found herself staring up into the gorgeous face of the hot Villarreal’s burrito guy, she choked, “Hey…you’re the Villarreal burrito boy.”

The handsome breakfast burrito maker smiled. “And you’re the funnel cake girl, right?”

“Yeah,” Talli managed.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” the handsome man inquired.


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The Wolf King

Medieval Historical Romance

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Of a sudden, Minnette’s reminiscences were scattered when she heard a sound that was not native to the meadow. A whistled call of sorts—and definitely human.

Sitting up—for she had indeed relaxed to near sprawling in the grass while caught up in her reverie—Minnette frowned when the next sound to reach her was that of shouting—a man shouting.

Leaping to her feet, she looked to the tree line at the north border of the meadow in time to see a man come bursting from without the forest at a full run. He was tall—that much Minnette could distinguish from her distance—and he appeared in some sort of distress by the further look of him. His shirt, though white and bloused at the sleeves, hung open, and he wore no vest or coat about it. His breeches were black, but his legs were otherwise void of protection; he wore no boots nor shoes of any kind.

Again the man shouted, as if tribulation were hot at his heels, and Minnette gasped as she then saw that it was indeed so. For as the man sprinted further into the open meadow, a pack of enormous white wolves, numbering at least five in brood, raced from the tree line in pursuit of the man! The wolves almost instantly overtook their prey, forcing the man to the ground as they pounced upon him, snarling and gnashing their teeth.

Minnette took hold of her kirtle skirt and, without pause, raced into the meadow toward the spectacle. The man would be dead before she reached him—she was certain of it! Yet she must try! She must endeavor to help him—to attempt to ward off the pack of hungry predators before they literally tore the man apart!


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A Cowboy for Christmas

Western Historical Romance

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A very loud pounding on the door startled everyone then.
“Well, who on earth could that be at this hour? And in this weather?” Lottie asked. “I swear, that knockin’ nearly startled me right out of my skin!”
“Me too, Mama,” Savannah agreed. In fact, her heart was still racing.
“We aren’t expectin’ anyone, are we, Lottie?” Bill asked.
“No. Not at all,” Lottie said.
Savannah watched as Bill quickly strode toward the door. He grabbed the rifle he’d set next to it when he’d entered earlier and then called, “Hello? Who’s that?”
A deep, masculine voice answered from the other side of the door. “Mr. Dickerson? It’s me, Trenner Barnett. Do you remember me, sir?”
“Trenner Barnett?” Bill mumbled, frowning as he immediately pulled the bolt on the door and opened it.
A gust of merciless wind and blowing snow whooshed into the house in the wake of the man who stepped in....


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Romance in Sleepy Hollow

Contemporary Romance

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Tansy felt a warm blush heat her cheeks as her gaze fell to the tall, totally hot guy standing near the back of the touring group. He smiled at her as their eyes met, and she half expected to see two vampire fangs as part of his dazzlingly white set of teeth. He was truly that good-looking—fictional vampire good-looking. So good-looking, in fact, that Tansy was proud of herself for not stumbling over her words as she continued to give her “beginning of our tour” speech.

The guy wore jeans and a blue flannel shirt with his sleeves rolled up to just beneath his elbows. He had short dark hair, a flawlessly chiseled jawline, a square, mildly cleft chin, and shoulders as broad as a barn! He was so her exact idea of a dream man that Tansy quickly glanced around to ensure that there weren’t any movie cameras rolling or something. The guy was too good looking to be just a regular Joe out for a stroll with the other tourists.

But Tansy didn’t see any news or TV cameras, so she straightened her posture and tried to funnel her focus back to the group of people waiting for the tour to start.


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The Horseman

Western Historical Romance

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Briney heard the jingle of spurs approaching but couldn’t seem to tear her attention away from the friendly horse nuzzling her arm. It wasn’t until the person drew nearer to her and spoke that every hair on the top of her head tingled—that every inch of her flesh broke into goose bumps.
“Mornin’ there, ma’am,” the rich, smooth voice greeted, the same voice that had lulled Briney to sleep on several occasions since Mrs. Fletcher’s death. “I hear you’ve come lookin’ to buy a horse.”


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The Object of His Affection

Regency Historical Romance

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It was cold—so miserably cold. Athena knew by the numbness in her own fingers and toes that Annabel’s, Marta’s, and Bronwen’s must be frozen stiff. Yet she hoped that their merriment—in singing Christmas carols on the doorsteps or in the parlors of those who opened their doors or invited them inside for a moment—would offset their discomfort. After all, a happy heart warmed many a frigid soul, as well as ice-cold appendages.

As a child, Athena had adored caroling. It was with warm fondness that she thought back on all those Christmas seasons of the past when her entire family would carol to their neighbors. Always her mother had made puddings, cakes, and other sweet treats to bring with them, to give as gifts of affection to their kind townsfolk and friends. And once the caroling was at an end, the Monroe family—Athena’s father, mother, and sisters Annabel, Marta, and Bronwen—would return to their own home to sit before the fire and enjoy roasted chestnuts and wassail.

this Christmas season—the season that had always been bright and shining, the season that had always been to Athena a time to consider others, to give and serve—this Christmas season was stark in opposition!

Never had Athena imagined that she would find herself in such dire, desperate circumstances as she did then. As she followed her younger sisters to the next door on the row of lovely houses—houses so similar to the one in which she and her sisters had spent only the very last Christmas season—she hoped that the next kind family to open the door might offer her sisters (and herself as well) a token of goodwill—a warm mug of wassail, a small butter biscuit, anything for their stomachs...


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With a Dreamboat in a Hammock

Contemporary Romance

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“Sir, I am so sorry,” Valynn started to apologize as her intestines began to twist themselves into knots of anxiety. “I had no idea who you were. I thought you…well, that you were here to lock up the building or something. I don’t even know what I thought really…but I didn’t think you were, you know, you.”

Valynn found herself uncharacteristically breathless as he smiled down at her and said, “It’s fine. Valynn? Is that right?”

“Yeah,” she managed to answer.

“It’s good to finally meet you,” he said. “And your work is…” He shook his head with admiration. “Your work really is the best I’ve ever seen.”

“Th-thank you! Wow, that means more than you can imagine…coming from you.” she stammered...

Instantly Valynn realized that she’d never really seen a photograph of the well-known photographer and entrepreneur. His work was so popular, as well as artistic, that she’d never paused to wonder what the man behind the camera looked like. But if she had taken a moment to wonder, she never, ever, ever would’ve imagined he was six foot three-ish, with gorgeous raven black hair, eyes that looked like two sapphires had been placed in them, the firmest, squarest, most perfectly shaped chin and jaw she’d ever seen on a man, and an overall appearance of just plain sigh-inducing hotness!


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The Romancing of Evangeline Ipswich

Western Historical Romance

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Evangeline startled a little as a somewhat quiet bark drew her attention from the autumn vista before her and to a medium-sized brown dog that had suddenly appeared at her side. The dog stood panting happily, as if he’d known her all her life, and it quite warmed Evangeline’s heart.

“Well, aren’t you a friendly little fellow?” she giggled as the dog—who she quickly noticed was missing one hind leg—sat at her feet, wagging its tail and panting in joyous anticipation of attention.

Again Evangeline giggled. “Aren’t you just a handsome man? Yes, you are,” she said to the dog as she hunkered down and scratched behind his ears. She laughed when the dog’s one hind leg began to beat the train platform as a signal of delight. “Oh, you are a sweetheart, aren’t you? I bet you’re quite the Romeo in town too, hmmm?”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Evangeline Ipswich,” came a man’s voice from behind her. “And I see you’ve already won over Jones.”

Evangeline felt goose bumps break over her entire body, for she’d instantly recognized the voice, even for the near six years it had been since she’d last heard it.


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Romance at the Christmas Tree Lot

Contemporary Romance

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Mayvee couldn’t keep from giggling. The fact that this tall, dark, and handsome Christmas tree shopper was at the lot to buy a Christmas tree for his grandparents was endearing enough on its own. But add to it the fact that he’d paid enough attention to his grandma’s Christmas ornaments to know she liked Radko ornaments was just too adorable!

When Craig had called her over to help a new customer, Mayvee hadn’t expected to see a guy so classically handsome that he looked like he’d stepped straight out of Hollywood’s Silver Screen era. But at the same time, he was more rugged-looking than any truly manly-man she’d ever seen.


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The Secret Bliss of Calliope Ipswich

Western Historical Romance

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“Oh! Do link arms with me, Calliope,” Blanche whispered, her brown eyes widening with apprehension. She took Calliope’s arm, tightly linking it with her own. “The old Mulholland house still gives me the willies every time I walk past it. I hate to think on what might have gone on inside. It’s truly terrifyin’!”
“Oh, don’t be silly, Blanche,” Calliope said, feigning calm. “Poor Prudence’s lunacy…it’s sad. And besides, her fiendish acts were not committed inside the house. There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s just…it’s just a sad, empty building.” Calliope Ipswich felt the hypocrite, however, as an uncomfortable shiver of residual dread and unease shuttered down her spine,

More than six months had passed since the All Hollow’s Eve when the dangerous state of Prudence Mulholland’s fracturing mind had been revealed to the townsfolk of Meadowlark Lake. And now, each time Calliope thought of poor Prudence and her family, not only did her heart ache for their family’s unhappy lot but a chill of lingering horror rippled through her being.
In truth, at times Calliope wondered if it had all been simply a bad dream—a nightmare. But it hadn’t. It really had happened—all of it.


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The Time of Aspen Falls

Contemporary Romance

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Back Cover Teaser:

Aspen Falls was happy. Her life was good. Blessed with a wonderful family and a loyal best friend—Aspen did know a measure of contentment.

Still, to Aspen it seemed something was missing—something hovering just beyond her reach—something entirely satisfying that would ensure her happiness. Yet, she couldn’t consciously determine what the “something” was. And so, Aspen sailed through life—not quite perfectly content perhaps—but grateful for her measure of contentment.

Grateful that is, until he appeared—the man in the park—the stranger who jogged passed the bench where Aspen sat during her lunch break each day. As handsome as a dream, and twice as alluring, the man epitomized the absolute stereotypical “real man”—and Aspen’s measure of contentment vanished!

Would Aspen Falls reclaim the comfortable contentment she once knew? Or would the handsome real-man-stranger linger in her mind like a sweet, tricky venom—poisoning all hope of Aspen’s ever finding true happiness with any other man?

Excerpt: 

…Gina nodded and tossed a juicy apple core to the grassy orchard ground below.  “How can we expect to be successful in love when there aren’t any real men left in the world?”

It was a subject Aspen and her best friend had plowed through time and again—the sad lack of “real men” in modern society.

“I mean,” Gina began…“where did they all go?  All those guys our grandmas talk about?”

…“The kind of guy who would sew up his own wound, while defending a woman’s honor with a bare-fisted mean right hook,” Aspen added.

“Yeah,” Gina sighed.  “What happened to those kinds of guys?”

... Aspen bit her lip.  Should she tell Gina?  Should she tell her what she’d discovered just two weeks before?  …Gina was her best friend—her trusted and loyal friend.  They’d shared nearly every secret of their entire lives.  It was time to share this one.

Aspen lowered her voice and said, “I know where one is.”

“One what?”

“A real man.”


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The Prairie Prince

Western Historical Romance

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For Katie Matthews, life held no promise of true happiness. Life on the prairie was filled with hard labor, a brutal father, and the knowledge she would need to marry a man incapable of truly loving a woman. Men didn’t have time to dote on women—so Katie’s father told her. To Katie, it seemed life would forever remain mundane and disappointing—until the day Stover Steele bought her father’s south acreage.

Handsome, rugged, and fiercely protective of four orphaned sisters, Stover Steele seemed to have stepped from the pages of some romantic novel. Yet his heroic character and alluring charm only served to remind Katie of what she would never have: true love and happiness the likes found only in fairytales. Furthermore, evil seemed to lurk in the shadows, threatening Katie’s brightness and hope, and even her life!

Would Katie Matthews fall prey to disappointment, heartache, and harm? Or could she win the attentions of the handsome Stover Steele long enough to be rescued?


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The Visions of Ransom Lake

Western Historical Romance

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Back Cover Teaser:

Youthful beauty, naïve innocence, a romantic imagination thirsting for adventure…an apt description of Vaden Valmont, who would soon find the adventure and mystery she had always longed to experience…in the form of a man.

A somber recluse, Ransom Lake descended from his solitary concealment in the mountains, wholly disinterested in people and their trivial affairs.  And somehow, young Vaden managed to be ever in his way…either by accident or because of her own unique ability to stumble into a quandary.

Yet the enigmatic Ransom Lake would involuntarily become Vaden’s unwitting tutor.  Through him, she would experience joy and passion the like even Vaden had never imagined.  Yes, Vaden Valmont stepped innocently, yet irrevocably, into love with the secretive, seemingly callous man.

But there were other life’s lessons Ransom Lake would inadvertently bring to her as well.  The darker side of life…despair, guilt, heartache.  Would Ransom Lake be the means of Vaden’s dreams come true?  Or the cause of her complete desolation?

Book Excerpt:

"Now there’s an intriguing-looking character,” she mused aloud...  Vaden still stared at the corner around which the stranger had disappeared.  “Has he been that way his entire life, Auntie?  Or does he have some deep, painful tragedy of recent which keeps him in hiding?”

“Who knows?”  Sighing, Aunt Myra waved her hand, gesturing ignorance as to the answer.  “I’ve no idea even how old he is.  Could be twenty…could be a hundred.  Like I said, I don’t think anyone’s ever seen him clean shaven...”

But Vaden smiled.  A mystery!  Only one hour into arriving for their adventurous year and already a mystery at hand!  Something inside her leapt with anticipation.  Her mind began to burn, visualizing potential circumstances.  A criminal, perhaps?  Hiding out in this small, western town?  The possibilities were endless in Vaden’s imagination.”


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The Man of Her Dreams

Contemporary Romance

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Libby smiled as she watched him drink from the mug of cocoa she’d prepared for him. It was all so exciting—-the renovation, the hope of finding something hidden in the house that no one had ever found before, the fact that the handsome contractor would be in and out of her shop and her life for weeks to come. All of a sudden, Libby felt a surge of rejuvenation course through her limbs, for she loved when life brought unexpected pleasures. And seeing the likes of him every day certainly would be a pleasure.


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A Bargained-For Bride

Western Historical Romance

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“You’re the sweetest girl in Mourning Dove Creek, you know?” Jack mumbled as he paused in kissing Jilly a moment.

Jilly smiled. “And you’re the handsomest man in Mourning Dove Creek, you know,” she flirted in return.

Jack smiled. “I do know,” he said.

Jilly giggled. Jack Taylor was so predictable—and a little conceited. He really did think he was the handsomest man in Mourning Dove—and he was, for the most part.

Secretly, however, if Jilly ever allowed herself to be completely honest about it (which she tried to avoid), there was one other man in Mourning Dove who always crossed her mind when the subject of the handsomest man in town arose. Yet there was no lingering on thinking of that man—no sirree! Not for a moment! Not for any reason—ever. And so Jilly just kept telling Jack that he was the handsomest man in Mourning Dove Creek. Besides, it was almost true—being that the other man lived outside of town and not right in town the way Jack did.


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A Good-Lookin’ Man

Contemporary Romance

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However, in an instant—in less than a breath or the bat of an eyelid—the elusive pepper spray hiding somewhere in her purse was all but forgotten. For standing before her—right there before her, not three feet away—was the best-looking, most gorgeous, handsomest man she had ever seen in all her life!

“No, seriously,” she thought out loud with lingering bewilderment at how perfectly stunning the man standing before her was, wearing a worn pair of Levi’s, dusty cowboy boots, and a short-sleeved, plaid-print, snap-up shirt that hung open, revealing a bronzed, perfectly sculpted torso that was simply a mass of muscles. She was so unsettled by the man’s appearance that she wasn’t sure whether she was whispering aloud to herself or her car.

Either way, the man asked, “Beg your pardon, ma’am?”

“Oh…oh, nothing,” Fairlee said as she began rummaging in her purse again. But the man’s presence and appearance had entirely rattled her. As her awe-inspired brain obviously quit sending out instructions to the rest of her body, Fairlee felt her purse slip from her hands—watched in humiliated dismay as its contents tumbled out and scattered over the shoulder of the road.


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Midnight Masquerade

Regency Historical Romance

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She was tired—oh so very, very tired. Never—not in all her life—had Evony Elorietta known such thoroughgoing fatigue. As she trudged out of the dark woods still veiled in the shadows of early sunrise, out across the expanse of cold, dew-drenched grass and onto the main road of the village, Evony wondered how she would ever endure a day that was only just beginning. Every bone in her body ached—every muscle throbbed in misery, every inch of her flesh begged for respite. Yet there would be none—at least not until she had finished her stitching—finished the near thirteen hours of sewing she now faced under the ever observant, incessantly critical eye of seamstress Agnes Teche.

After such a long, chilled, and sleepless night spent in watching—peering through the darkness and into the rooms of the inn in the woods, until her eyes were too dry to watch any longer—after listening to the shallow, often vile conversations, until her ears hurt from the foul ferment of it—Evony dreaded sewing for Mrs. Teche more than ever before. The woman was a banshee of an employer. And yet, she was grateful Mrs. Teche had had the keen eye to recognize Evony’s superior skills with needle and thread—for how else would Evony have managed to feed Mikol and Tressa—to shelter them—to keep them hidden?


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One Classic Latin Lover, Please

Contemporary Romance

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“Now apparently your brother has a bridal shower gift for you, Tierney,” Tierney’s mother said, snapping her attention back to the festivities at hand.

Tierney smiled as she saw Aubrey and Tiffany pushing a very large box toward her. The box was on a roller platform and was wrapped in red shiny paper and embellished with wide, black velvet ribbon and a large black velvet bow. The box looked to be about seven feet tall and four feet wide, and Tierney giggled again, wondering what Alec could have sent her.

“There’s a card with it,” Tiffany said, offering a red envelope to Tierney.

“Read it out loud,” Aubrey suggested.

Tierney’s smile broadened as she read the front of the card aloud. “A special day demands a special gift…a gift sent with loving intent. Therefore, for you on your special day, I present to you…” Tierney paused long enough to open the card and then read, “One Classic Latin Lover with a very special message. I love you, baby sister. Alec.”

As fast as she could, Tierney tore the wrapping paper on the front of the tall package to reveal a plastic handle attached to the box with the words, Pull this, written nearby.

Pulling on the handle, however, Tierney gasped as the front of the box broke away to reveal Alec’s gift—one classic Latin lover!

There inside the large box stood a man—not a cardboard cutout man but a real man. And, oh, what a man it was! Tierney’s mouth hung agape as she studied the man standing in the box. He was literally tall, dark, and incredibly, incredibly handsome! Dressed in a high-end white shirt, black tuxedo, and black bow tie, the man owned black, loosely swept back, Antonio Banderas hair that gave him both the short-cropped look of a refined gentleman and yet the “just raked my fingers through my hair” appearance of a man who could seduce a woman with simply a smile. His short, dark whisker growth was perfectly manicured—a goatee and mustache, with a not-too-thin and not-too thick beard line that followed his perfect square jaw from his goateed chin to his side burns. His eyes were dark and smoldering—the perfect complement to his Latin complexion. His cheekbones were set high, and his nose was as straight a nose as Tierney had ever seen. Broad shoulders, long legs—the man was gorgeous!

“Hello, Tierney O’Brien,” the man said, stepping from the box to stand right in front of her. His voice was low and smooth like crème brûlée and sent goose bumps popping up all over Tierney’s arms.

He was so close to her, so close she could smell the faint scent of him—of some masculine shower gel or cologne—and it was overwhelming to Tierney’s senses. She began to take a step back, but the man reached out, taking hold of her arm, pulling her close to him and into ballroom dance position.

“I hear you tango,” he said.

Tierney nodded and managed to whisper, “A little.”

The man smiled, his perfect lips perfectly accenting his perfectly white teeth. “Well, then,” he said, and from somewhere the music began.


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The Bewitching of Amoretta Ipswich

Western Historical Romance

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The spirit of adventure and curiosity that dwelled within her bosom was passionate with excitement! It was obvious there was something wildly interesting inside the gristmill, and Amoretta silently swore to herself she would discover what it was no matter what. She promised herself that nothing short of torture could keep her from seeing what was inside now that her feet were set on the path.

“Is it frightening at all?” Calliope asked.

“Shh,” Blanche kindly scolded.

But Winnie whispered, “I suppose it could be considered frightenin’…to some girls.”

“Is it a ghost?” Calliope asked in a softer whisper.

“Oh heavens no!” Sallie giggled. “It’s ever so much more wonderful than a ghost!”

“Now everyone hush,” Prudence whispered as she began to rather creep toward the back outer wall of the mill. “If they hear us…well…we don’t want anyone to hear us is all.”

Slowly Amoretta and Calliope followed the others to a place where a board hung loosely from the rest of the wooden planks of the outer back wall of the gristmill. Blanche put a finger to her lips to remind everyone to be silent.

Winnie smiled as she took hold of Amoretta’s shoulders. “Just kneel here in the grass,” she whispered. Sallie knelt down in the grass and took Calliope’s hand to guide her to follow.

Amoretta carefully knelt in the cool grass shaded by mill and trees. Once Prudence and Blanche had knelt down with the others, Prudence pointed to the low, loosely hanging board, indicating that Amoretta and Calliope should look through the open space it presented.

Amoretta’s heart was pounding like the rapids of some raging river! What were they about to witness? Spirits roaming the old mill? Pirates? Outlaws? Her imagination couldn’t list possibilities quickly enough.

And then, all at once—in the space of a moment and a short gasp—Amoretta Ipswich knew exactly why the young ladies of Meadowlark Lake liked to sneak out to the gristmill and peep through the loose siding board.

“Oh my—” Amoretta’s exclamation of astonishment was silenced by Winnie’s hand quickly covering her mouth.”


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Untethered

Western Historical Romance

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A man tethered by pain and guilt born of past tragedy,
A young woman with the soul of a guardian angel,
And an unspeakable evil about to be unleashed…

Untethered

As Cricket lay in the soft comfort of her bed, continuing to let her mind nest on thoughts of how truly wonderfully attractive Texas Ranger Thibodaux was, she giggled, thinking that looking at him was more refreshing than swimming naked on a summer Sunday afternoon. He was a tall drink of water—far taller than most of the other men in town—and his shoulders were as broad as the state of Texas itself. Sky-blue eyes, bronze skin, square jaw, and dark hair—and that smile! In truth, Cricket had only seen Heathro Thibodaux smile three or four times, but each incidence was something she’d never forget. His smile was bright and white, and the gold tooth he owned on the upper-right incisor of his smile only embellished the richness of it.

That one tooth. Cricket’s smile faded as she thought of it. Oh, no doubt the flash only added to the splendor of his smile. Yet it also served as a reminder to anyone who had ever read or heard of what had happened in Texas one year before. No doubt it was a powerful remembrance to Heathro Thibodaux himself—a visual indication of true barbarity, pain, and loss.

In that moment, Cricket wondered—when Heathro looked in the mirror each morning and saw that tooth, did he think of eight dead girls buried in the bottom of a bleak and barren canyon? Did he think of the eight dead girls that he, for no fault of his own, had been unable to save?


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The McCall Trilogy

Western Historical Romance

Click to Read Description

Whether or not you’ve already fallen in love with the McCalls, this exclusive trilogy edition containing all three Marcia Lynn McClure books featuring members of the McCall family is a must for your bookshelf and/or electronic reading device! Furthermore, enjoy two new editions to Marcia’s popular “Author’s Note”—including the account of how Jackson McCall and Malaina’s romance originally entitled The Foundling, became Desert Fire—and how it made it back to The Foundling in this trilogy edition!

Available as an e-book, softcover and/or hardcover, ride away to a romance that only “McCall Boys” and Reese Thatcher can provide!

From the back cover of the book:

Journey through generations of adventure and romance as three Marcia Lynn McClure favorites blend perfectly in The McCall Trilogy!

The roundup begins with The Foundling (formerly released as Desert Fire).
She opened her eyes and beheld, for the first time, the face of Jackson McCall…

Posse up with the next generation of McCall heroes in To Echo the Past.
Stripped of her heart’s hopes and dreams, she knew true loneliness—until an ordinary day revealed a heavenly oasis in the desert—Michael McCall…

And finally, ride away to dreams come true with a modern-day McCall heroine in An Old-Fashioned Romance.
Life went along simply, if not rather monotonously, for Breck McCall. She longed for something—something that seemed to be missing…

The McCall Trilogy
…a romantic escape to cowboys, courtship, and kissing the way only Marcia Lynn McClure can deliver!


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The Chimney Sweep Charm

Contemporary Romance

Click to Read Excerpt

“There was the muffled sound of audience members standing up, and Baylee and Candice turned to look behind them.
“Holy smokes!” Baylee breathed.
“It’s like a Navy SEAL convention or something,” Candice added.
And it was! Baylee couldn’t believe that over twenty-five of the people in the orientation audience were tall, dark, handsome, buff guys dressed all in black. Each man stood with his feet apart and hands held at his back—similar if not exactly like a military “at ease” stance.
“They’re all packing heat too,” Baylee whispered to Candice as she noted all the holstered sidearms.
“I guess Mr. O’Sullivan wants to be prepared,” Candice said.
“I suppose you girls are all wowed now, right?” Tate said from the front row.
“Let’s see,” Candice began, looking to Tate and feigning an expression of thoughtfulness. “Let’s say I’m being assaulted by some weirdo in street…and who am I going to look to for protection? One of these guys?” she said, nodding toward the security staff. “Or you, Tate? You…who freaked out in June when we were in New York and you thought some guy was looking at you funny. You freaked out and slammed Megan’s finger in the door and cut it off! Who do you think I’m going to trust?”
“It was an accident, and you know it,” Tate grumbled.
Baylee did know it. Still, she found her eyes glancing down the row of chairs in front of her to Megan—to the missing first joint and fingertip on her right hand.
“Yeah, it was,” Candice admitted. “But you still cared more about yourself than Megan. The guy was stalking Megan…not you. Real heroic, Tate. Way to go to instilling a sense of confidence in me that you would have my back.”
“Whatever,” Tate grumbled, turning around in his seat to pout.”


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The Haunting of Autumn Lake

Western Historical Romance

Click to Read Excerpt

Autumn Lake stopped cold in her tracks. She puffed a breath of summoning courage as she gazed at the old covered bridge before her. Ever since she was a child and Sawyer had read to her the fascinating yet thoroughly haunting story of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Mr. Washington Irving, Autumn had secreted a fear of bridges. Each time she was meant to cross a bridge (especially the old covered bridge on the far side of the orchards), she expected the ghostly headless horseman to appear and attempt to decapitate her. Oh, certainly the tale of the Specter did nothing to soothe her either, for it was said that this was to be a year of the Specter. As the story went, the local phantom, the Specter, only appeared once every ten years—but this was to be the year of the Specter, and Autumn did not like crossing bridges even when it was not a year of the Specter.

Gulping down her fear, however, Autumn glanced behind her, assuring herself that there was no headless horseman riding up behind her intent on stealing her head.

“He wouldn’t want a woman’s head anyway,” she mumbled to herself, even as rising fear caused her heart to pound in her chest. “And besides,” she said, looking back to the old bridge, “I’m eighteen years old…nineteen in less than a month. Surely I can cross the bridge without runnin’.”

Pulling her sketchbook to her chest and tightly folding her arms across it, she spoke aloud to the cattails. “Wish me luck, my darlings…for I do prefer to keep my head attached to the rest of me.”

As Autumn stepped onto the bridge, the roof blocked the warm sunshine, making the space inside the bridge dark and gloomy. Yet she’d expected this. What else would one expect of a covered bridge? After all, its very purpose was protection from the elements, and that included the heat of the summer sun. Naturally, Autumn preferred to think of its purpose as being made for something else—the seclusion necessary for the romance of lovers’ trysts.

She sighed with disenchantment for a moment—disappointment at never having had a lover of her own. She thought how different it would be to cross the old bridge if her arm were linked to that of a strong and handsome lover. Still, she had no lover, and the fact remained that she must indeed cross the bridge.


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The Highwayman of Tanglewood

Regency Historical Romance

Click to Read Excerpt

Back Cover Tease

A chambermaid in the house of Tremeshton, Faris Shayhan well knew torment, despair, and trepidation. To Faris it seemed the future stretched long and desolate before her—as bleak and dark as a lonesome midnight path. Still, the moon oft casts hopeful luminosity to light one’s way. So it was that Lady Maranda Rockrimmon cast hope upon Faris—set Faris upon a different path—a path of happiness, serenity, and love.

Thus Faris abandoned the tainted air at Tremeshton in favor of the amethyst sunsets of Loch Loland Castle and her new mistress, Lady Rockrimmon. Further, it was on the very night of her emancipation that Faris first met the man of her dreams—the man of every woman’s dreams—the rogue Highwayman of Tanglewood.

Dressed in black and astride his mighty steed, the brave, heroic, and dashing rogue Highwayman of Tanglewood stole Faris’s heart as easily as he stole her kiss. Yet the Highwayman of Tanglewood was encircled in mystery—mystery as thick and as secretive as time itself. Could Faris truly own the heart of a man so thoroughly enveloped in twilight shadows and mysterious secrets?

Book Excerpt:

Faris gasped as a gloved hand suddenly covered her mouth from behind. “Be still. The Highwayman of Tanglewood owns ya now.”

Faris smiled as he whispered, “Do not struggle. I’ll not harm ya, lass. I simply intend…to have ya. Come away with me, sweet Faris,” the Highwayman whispered. “What say ye?” 

“I say, who are you, Highwayman?” Faris breathed, unable to believe the euphoric spell he was weaving over her. All romantic thoughts of knights riding to win the fair lady were driven from her mind. A rogue’s manner was vastly more delightful!

“Aye! But that ye should know, sweet Faris,” the Highwayman whispered. 

“I know you not, sir,” Faris said in a whisper. “Surely I would remember such a shape of a man.” 

“Indeed, would ya, lass?” he asked. 

“I would, sir,” she answered.

“’Tis well ya know who I am, fair Faris,” he whispered, kissing her neck again. “I am the Highwayman of Tanglewood.”


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Beneath the Honeysuckle Vine

Edwardian/Regency Historical Romance

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Back Cover Teaser:

Civil War—no one could flee from the nightmare of battle and the countless lives it devoured.  Everyone had sacrificed—suffered profound misery and unimaginable loss.  Vivianna Bartholomew was no exception.  The war had torn her from her home—orphaned her.  The merciless war seemed to take everything—even the man she loved.  Still, Vivianna yet knew gratitude—for a kind friend had taken her in upon the death of her parents.  Thus, she was cared for—even loved.

Yet, as General Lee surrendered signaling the war’s imminent end—as Vivianna remained with the remnants of the Turner family—her soul clung to the letters written by her lost soldier—to his memory written in her heart.  Could a woman ever heal from the loss of such a love?  Could a woman’s heart forget that it may find another?  Vivianna Bartholomew thought not.

Still, it is often in the world that miracles occur—that love endures even after hope has been abandoned.  Thus, one balmy Alabama morning—as two ragged soldiers wound the road toward the Turner house—Vivianna began to know—to know that miracles do exist—that love is never truly lost.

Book Excerpt:

“Look there, Viv!” Willy cried.  “Looks like two more boys are comin’ home to Florence!”

Vivianna turned—her heart leaping in her bosom.  It was true that her heart had grown weary of leaping—only to find disappointment and renewed aching.  Over the past few weeks—each time a soldier meandered past the Turner place on his way to Florence—Vivianna hoped.  Even after years of no letters from her brothers—still she hoped.  The pain she’d tried to leave beneath the honeysuckle vine returned.  She wondered how any human being who had survived the war, continued to survive it.

Still, hope had already enveloped the two boys.  As Nate began to whistle, Willy ran off down the road toward the two approaching men.

“Willy!” Vivianna called.  “Come here!  You come back right this minute! We don’t know who…”

Nate’s whistling died—Vivianna held her breath.  As Willy ran toward the two men, one of them dropped to his knees and embraced the boy…

“It can’t be,” Vivianna breathed, shaking her head—still afraid to hope.  Yet, as she watched Savannah collapse into the welcoming embrace of one of the men—she knew…


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Born for Thorton’s Sake

Regency Historical Romance
 
Click to Read Excerpt

Maria left her chamber, resigned to descend the staircase slowly and elegantly to greet him this time, instead of in the impatient leaps and bounds as were her standard. After all, she was a young woman now.

However, when she had descended half the distance of the staircase, Brock entered through the main door. Maria was overcome with excitement, springing at him as a happy sparrow. He caught her in his wonderfully familiar embrace as she threw her arms around his neck.

“You’re home! You’re home,” Maria whispered into his ear. She could feel Brock’s roughly shaven face nuzzle her neck, and she hoped he wouldn’t notice the goose flesh breaking over her because of it. Her senses were overcome—thoroughly and entirely overcome! She found her body trembled within and without, her mouth watered, and her breathing was labored. Oh, how she loved him! Loved the scent of him, the feel of his cheek against hers, the power of his arms around her! Another moment and she would be undone, confessing her true feelings for him aloud.

Maria Castillo Holt, the only daughter of a valiant lord and his Spanish beauty. Following the tragic deaths of her parents, Maria would find herself spirited away by conniving relatives to endure neglect and misery.

However, rescued at the age of thirteen by Brockton Thorton, the son of her father’s devoted friend Lord Richard Thorton, Maria would at last find blessed reprieve. Further, Brockton Thorton became, from that day forth, ever the absolute center of Maria’s very existence. And as the blessed day of her sixteenth birthday dawned, Maria’s dreams of owning her heart’s desire seemed to become a blissful reality.

Yet a fiendish plotting intruded, and Maria’s hopes of realized dreams were locked away within dark, impenetrable walls. Would Maria’s dreams of life with the handsome and coveted Brockton Thorton die at the hands of a demon strength?


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Daydreams

Contemporary Romance

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Book Cover Teaser:

Sayler Christy knew chances were slim to none that any of her silly little daydreams would ever actually come true—especially any daydreams involving Mr. Booker, the new patient—the handsome, older patient convalescing in her grandfather’s rehabilitation center.

Yet, working as a candy striper at Rawlings Rehab, Sayler couldn’t help but dream of belonging to Mr. Booker—and Mr. Booker stole her heart—perhaps unintentionally—but with very little effort.  Gorgeous, older, and entirely unobtainable—Sayler knew Mr. Booker would unknowingly enslave her heart for many years to come—for daydreams were nothing more than a cruel joke inflicted by life.  All dreams—daydreams or otherwise—never came true. Did they?

Book Excerpt:

“She imagined for a moment that he’d awakened, pulling her into his arms and kissing her…She thought of his mesmerizing blue eyes, his soft brown hair…He was simply a living dream!”


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Desert Fire

Western Historical Romance

Click to Read Excerpt

She felt something on her face. It was cool, soothing, moist. Her throat burned and constricted and when she tried to swallow, she couldn’t.

“Ma’am?” She heard the voice, but it seemed so far away. “Ma’am?” It came again, closer this time. “Can you hear me, ma’am?” A man’s voice, deep and stern.

She attempted to speak, but found it impossible. She tried to nod in response, but her head was pounding like a drum was pinned up inside it.

“Open your eyes if you can. Open ‘em,” the voice insisted.

She opened her eyes just a slit and quickly clenched them shut again as searing rays of sunlight burned through her. She sensed movement and the demanding voice came once more.

“Now...try again.”

It was a voice not to be ignored. She tried to lift her hand to shade her face, but her own body would not obey her mind’s command. She opened her eyes slightly and when the sun didn’t blind her painfully again, she was able to open them completely. Everything was blurry for several seconds but she could make out a dark figure bending over her.

“Can you see?” the voice asked firmly.

She blinked several times clearing her vision slightly.

“Yes,” she mouthed, though no sound escaped her blistered lips. A hand slipped beneath her head and lifted it.

“Here...keep still and let this stay on your tongue for a minute,” the voice said, and she felt the first cool, life giving drops of water moisten her mouth. She couldn’t move her tongue at first, but the second time the stranger offered the water from the canteen, she was able to swallow it.

After several mouthfuls of water she felt more alert and realized her face, arms and shoulders felt tight and hot.

“Now...what’s your name, girl? And how’d ya’ end up out here?” the man asked.

She could see clearly then and for the first time she looked up into the face that belonged to the voice.

“I don’t know,” she answered in a forced whisper.

The man let out a sigh, tipped his hat back on his head and looked around with an expression of both bewilderment and annoyance.

“You don’t know how you ended up lyin’ out in the middle of nowhere, with nothin’ or no one with you?” he asked, still looking around.

“No,” she whispered, feeling suddenly terrified at the realization.

The stranger stood up and pulled his hat down into place again.

“Well...I guess I’ll just haul ya’ on home and we’ll think on it from there.” He walked over to a nearby tree and untied a horse. “Come on Bill. Ma will love this,” he muttered.


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Divine Deception

Western Historical Romance

Click to Read Excerpt

Back Cover Teaser:

Life experience had harshly turned its cruel countenance on the young Fallon Ashby. Her father deceased and her mother suffering with a fatal disease, Fallon was given over to her uncle, Charles Ashby, until she would reach the age of independence.

Abused, neglected, and disheartened, Fallon found herself suddenly blessed with unexpected liberation at the hand of the mysterious Trader Donavon. A wealthy landowner and respected denizen of the town, Trader Donavon concealed his feature of face within the shadows of a black cowl.

When Fallon’s secretive deliverer offered two choices of true escape from her uncle, her captive heart chose its own path. Thus, Fallon married the enormous structure of mortal man—without having seen the horrid secret he hid beneath an ominous hood.

But the malicious Charles Ashby, intent on avenging his own losses at Trader Donavon’s hand, set out to destroy the husband that Fallon herself held secrets concerning. Would her wicked uncle succeed and perhaps annihilate the man that his niece secretly loved above all else?

Book Excerpt:

“But your uncle is still your legal guardian. He will, no doubt, insist that I marry you—especially now. I can’t have my tenants and the people in town thinking me a rogue as well as a monster. It’s rather humorous, isn’t it? Thinking of Trader Donavon, the hideous beast, taking part in a shotgun wedding.” Fallon heard a low chuckle originate from somewhere within the dark depths of the hood, and she wondered if Trader Donavon donned a smile within the confines of his garb…

“I choose to marry you, Mr. Donavon.”…

He was silent for a moment. She sensed he was regaining his composure. She knew he had never suspected she might choose to marry him.

“Very well, Miss Ashby. You’ve made your decision. However, I want this to be said: a wealthy, horrible, beast of a husband will never be a substitute for a perhaps impoverished, handsome man who would have been your lover as well.”


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Dusty Britches

Western Historical Romance

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Back Cover Teaser:

Angelina Hunter was seriously minded, and it was a good thing. Her father’s ranch needed a woman who could endure the strenuous work of ranch life. Since her mother’s death, Angelina had been that woman. She had no time for frivolity; no time for a less severe side of life. Not when there was so much to be done--hired hands to feed, a widower father to care for and an often ridiculously light-hearted younger sister to worry about. No. Angelina Hunter had no time for the things most young women her age enjoyed.

And yet, Angelina had not always been so hardened. There had been a time when she boasted a fun, flirtatious nature even more delightful than her sister Becca’s--a time when her imagination soared with adventurous, romantic dreams. But that all ended years before at the hand of one man. Her heart turned to stone…safely becoming void of any emotion save impatience and indifference.

Until the day her dreams returned, the day that the very maker of her broken heart rode back into her life. As the dust settled from the cattle drive that brought him back, would Angelina’s heart be softened? Would she learn to hope again? Would her long-lost dreams become a blessed reality?

Book Excerpt:

“…Dusty’s heart panged a twinge with she saw the bullwhip strapped to the saddle of one of the horses tied to the corral fence.  “Why today?” she wondered.  Why was her memory tarrying on a young cowhand from five years ago?

…Well…now,” a deep, masculine voice said from behind her, “if it ain’t Miss Dusty Britches!”

Dusty felt the color drain from her face…felt the blood seem to drain from the rest of her body and puddle in her feet.  She was dizzy and nauseated all at once.

…There was only one person on the whole of the earth who ever called her Dusty Britches, and that was the cowboy who gave her the nickname in the first place.  ...Dusty slowly turned around to see standing before her a man whose eyes were those belonging to a boy she’d once known—a boy who had grown into a man.”


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Kiss in the Dark

Contemporary Romance

Click to Read Excerpt

“Boston,” he mumbled.

“I mean…Logan…he’s like the man of my dreams!  Why would I blow it?  What if…” Boston continued to babble.

“Boston,” he said.  The commanding sound of his voice caused Boston to cease in her prattling and look to him.

“What?” she asked, somewhat grateful he’d interrupted her panic attack.

he frowned and shook his head.

“Shut up,” he said.  “You’re all worked up about nothing.” He reached out, slipping one hand beneath her hair to the back of her neck.

Boston was so startled by his touch, she couldn’t speak—she could only stare up into his mesmerizing green eyes.  His hand was strong and warm, powerful and reassuring.

“If it freaks you out so much…just kiss in the dark,” he said.

Boston watched as Vance put the heel of his free hand to the light switch.  In an instant the room went black.


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Kissing Cousins

Contemporary Romance

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Back Cover Teaser:

Poppy Amore loved her job waitressing at Good Ol’ Days Family Restaurant. No one could ask for a better working environment. After all, her best friend Whitney worked there, and her boss, restaurant owner Mr. Dexter, was a kind, understanding, grandfatherly sort of man. Furthermore, the job allowed Poppy to linger in the company of Mr. Dexter’s grandson Swaggart Moretti—the handsome and charismatic head cook at Good Ol’ Days.

Secretly, Swaggart was far more to Poppy than just a man who was easy to look at. In truth, she had harbored a secret crush on him for years—since her freshman year in high school, in fact. And although the memory of her feelings—even the lingering truth of them—haunted Poppy the way a veiled, unrequited love always haunts a heart, she had learned to simply find joy in possessing a hidden, anonymous delight in merely being associated with Swaggart. Still, Poppy had begun to wonder if her heart would ever let go of Swaggart Moretti—if any other man in the world could ever turn her head.

When the dazzling, uber-fashionable Mark Lawson appeared one night at Good Ol’ Days, however, Poppy began to believe that perhaps her attention and her heart would be distracted from Swaggart at last. Mark Lawson was every girl’s fantasy—tall, uniquely handsome, financially well-off, and as charming as any prince ever to appear in fairy tales. He was kind, considerate, and, Poppy would find, a true, old-fashioned champion. Thus, Poppy Amore willingly allowed her heart and mind to follow Mark Lawson—to attempt to abandon the past and an unrequited love and begin to move on.

But all the world knows that real love is not so easily put off, and Poppy began to wonder if even a man so wonderful as Mark Lawson could truly drive Swaggart Moretti from her heart. Would Poppy Amore miss her one chance at happiness, all for the sake of an unfulfilled adolescent’s dream?

Book Excerpt:

"It won't change your life ..." he said, his voice low and rich like a warm drink laced with molasses. "And it sure won't be the best kiss you'll ever have," he added.

Her body erupted into goose bumps as his thumb traveled slowly over her lower lip.

"But I'll try to make it worth your time ..."


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Love Me

Contemporary Romance

Click to Read Teaser

SHE HAD ALWAYS LOVED HIM…FOREVER IT SEEMED SHE HAD LOVED HIM. YET, WHEN SO MANY OTHERS LOVED HIM, TOO—WHAT HOPE DID SHE HAVE OF OWNING HIS LOVE IN RETURN?

Jacey Whittaker couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t loved Scott Pendleton—the boy next door. She couldn’t remember a time when Scott hadn’t been in her life—in her heart. Yet, Scott was every other girl’s dream, too. How could Jacey possibly hope to win such a prize—the attention, the affections, the very heart of such a sought after young man?  Yet, win him she did! He became the bliss of her youthful heart—at least for a time.

Still, some dreams live fulfilled—and some are lost. Loss changes the very soul of a being. Jacey wondered if her soul would ever rebound. Certainly, she went on—lived a happy life—if not so full and perfectly happy a life as she once lived. Yet, she feared she would never recover—never get over Scott Pendleton—her first love.

Until the day a man walked into her apartment—into her apartment and into her heart. Would this man be the one to heal her broken heart? Would this man be her one true love?


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Saphyre Snow

Medieval Historical Romance

Click to Read Excerpt

Back Cover Teaser:

Descended of a legendary line of strength and beauty, Saphyre Snow had once known happiness as princess of the Kingdom of Graces . Once a valiant king had ruled in wisdom—once a loving mother had spoken soft words of truth to her daughter.  Yet, a strange madness had poisoned great minds—a strange fever inviting Lord Death to linger.  Soon it was even Lord Death sought to claim Saphyre Snow for his own—and all Saphyre loved seemed lost.

Thus, Saphyre fled—forced to leave all familiars for necessity of preserving her life.  Alone, and without provision, Saphyre knew Lord Death might yet claim her—for how could a princess hope to best the Reaper himself?

Still, fate often provides rescue by extraordinary venues, and Saphyre was not delivered into the hands of Death—but into the hands of those hiding dark secrets in the depths of bruised and bloodied souls.  Saphyre knew a measure of hope and asylum in the company of these battered vagabonds.  Even she knew love—a secreted love—a forbidden love.  Yet it was love itself—even held secret—that would again summon Lord Death to hunt the princess, Saphyre Snow.

Book Excerpt:

The fire burned hot and red in the pit, and Saphyre's eyes again began to long for the sweet respite of slumber. Still, she dared not close them for a moment in the presence of these strangers, and so it was she continued to study the men—wonder of their lives before the keep—and their secrets.  It was certain they owned secrets—for did not she?  All human beings owned secrets—some more than others perhaps—but all owned them.  Thus, she sat in contemplation.  What secrets would drive men to such solitude?

"Have you sorted us all out then?" he asked unexpected.  His gaze bore down upon her like the red heat of the sun.  "Have you sorted the gentlemen from the miscreants? Determined who will serve as your lover and who will be your footman?"


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Shackles of Honor

Regency Historical Romance

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Back Cover Teaser:

Cassidy Shea’s life was nothing if not serene. Loving parents and a doting brother provided happiness and innocent hope in dreaming as life’s experience. Yes, life was blissful at her beloved home of Terrill.

Still, for all its beauty and tranquility…ever there was something intangible and evasive lurking in the shadows. And though Cassidy wasted little worry on it…still she sensed its existence, looming as a menacing fate bent on ruin.

And when one day a dark stranger appeared, Cassidy could no longer ignore the ominous whispers of the secrets surrounding her. Mason Carlisle, an angry, unpredictable man materialized…and seemingly with Cassidy's black fate at his heels.

Instantly Cassidy found herself thrust into a world completely unknown to her, wandering in a labyrinth of mystery and concealments. Serenity was vanquished…and with it, her dreams.

Or were all the secrets so guardedly kept from Cassidy...were they indeed the cloth, the very flax from which her dreams were spun? From which eternal bliss would be woven?

Book Excerpt:

"Oh, my darling!" Milady Shea cried out suddenly, burying her face in her hands. "We’ve done you such a great wrong by not telling you…

"What are you speaking of, Mother?" Cassidy asked. "Truly you are frightening me." She felt the beginning of hysteria rising within her bosom…

"I’m none other than he who will obviously inform you of your betrothal, Miss Shea…"

"You…you inform me of my betrothal?" Cassidy stammered. "My betrothal to whom?"

Mason Carlisle shook his head disapprovingly as he glared at Cassidy's father and mumbled, "You’ve not prepared her in the least? Did my father know of your keeping the knowledge from her?"

…Cassidy gasped, "Your father?"

…An odd chuckle, a mixture of amusement and disapproval mingled, erupted from the stranger's throat. "My father?" he repeated. "Would that you were so lucky, Miss Shea," he growled, "for my father is a man above all others…but entirely obsessed with my mother. No. I am your betrothed."


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Sudden Storms

Western Historical Romance

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Back Cover Teaser:

Rivers Brighton was a wanderer—having nothing and belonging to no one.  Still, by chance, Rivers found herself harboring for a time beneath the roof of the kind-hearted Jolee Gray, and her remarkably attractive, yet ever grumbling brother, Paxton.  Jolee, had taken Rivers in, and Rivers had stayed.

Helplessly drawn to Paxton’s alluring presence and unable to escape his astonishing hold over her, however, Rivers knew she was in danger of enduring great heartbreak and pain.  Paxton appeared to find Rivers no more interesting than a brief cloudburst. Yet, the man’s spirit seemed to tether some great and devastating storm—a powerful tempest bridled within, waiting for the moment when it could rage full and free, perhaps destroying everything and everyone in its wake—particularly Rivers.

Could Rivers capture Paxton’s attention long enough to make his heart her own?  Or would the storm brewing within him destroy her hopes and dreams of belonging to the only man she had ever loved?

Book Excerpt:

“Now, you stand up here,” he ordered, pulling her to her feet. The man doubled over in the next instant, however, when the girl’s knee met his belly with immense force, causing him to lose his hold on her. She darted for the barn door, but he turned, catching her ankle and sending them both tumbling to the barn floor. As she kicked and thrashed, he pulled her toward him until she was fully beneath his heavy, overpowering body.

“You little devil!” he growled as he sat on her legs, catching both of her hands and holding them pinned to the ground above her own head…

He reached over to where a length of rope lay nearby and pulled it to him, first tying her hands together and then her knees. 

“There now. If you’re gonna act like an ornery little heifer—I’m gonna treat ya like one,” he said. 

Pulling her to her feet, he swiftly lifted her and flung her over one broad and very capable shoulder.


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Sweet Cherry Ray

Western Historical Romance

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Description:

Black Jack Haley and his band of outlaws spent a lot of time in the town of Blue Water. Drinking, gambling and keeping company with saloon girls, even the fact that retired Texas Ranger Arthur Ray lived nearby did nothing to discourage Black Jack and his boys from spending their time and stolen money in the small western town. Still, though the outlaws never harmed any of Blue Water's citizens, Arthur Ray knew men like Black Jack could turn on a dime. An outlaw was an outlaw and not to be trusted. Thus, the once Texas Ranger protected his family as best he could-demanding that his daughter, Cherry, dress as a man and remain as inconspicuous as possible. Though Cherry secretly longed for the feminine attire the other young ladies in Blue Water enjoyed, she understood her father's concerns-and loved him all the more for it. And so, life was fairly uneventful for the people of Blue Water, including Cherry Ray-until the day when a stranger rode into town. Handsome and intimidating, the stranger kept his business to himself. Yet, by the look of the gun at his hip, folks began to wonder if another outlaw had arrived in Blue Water. But that didn't keep Cherry Ray and her curious nature from crossing the stranger's path one too many times...

Book Excerpt:

"Cherry glanced at her pa who frowned and slightly shook his head. Still, she couldn't help herself and she leaned over and looked down the road.

"She could see the rider and his horse-a large buckskin stallion. As he rode nearer, she studied his white shirt, black flat-brimmed hat and double-breasted vest. Ever nearer he rode and she fancied his pants were almost the same color as his horse, with silver buttons running down the outer leg. Cherry had seen a similar manner of dress before-on the Mexican vaqueros that often worked for her pa in the fall.

"Cherry," her pa scolded in a whisper as the stranger neared them.

She straightened and blushed, embarrassed by being as impolite in her staring as the other town folk were in theirs. It seemed everyone had stopped whatever they had been doing to walk out to the street and watch the stranger ride in.

No one spoke-the only sound was that of the breeze, a falcon's cry overhead and the rhythm of the rider's horse as it slowed to a trot…


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The Fragrance of Her Name

Edwardian/Regency Historical Romance

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Love, the miraculous, eternal bond which binds two souls together.  Lauryn Kensington knew the depth of it.  Since the day of her eighth birthday, she had lived the power of true love; witnessed it with her own heart.  She had talked with it, learning not even time or death can vanquish it.  The Captain taught her these truths.  And she loved him all the more for it.

But now, a grown woman, Lauryn’s dear Captain’s torment became her own.  After ten years, Lauryn had not been able to help him find peace—the peace his lonely spirit needed so desperately; peace he’d sought every moment since his death over fifty years before.

Now, what of her own peace?  The time had come and Lauryn’s heart longed to do the unthinkable—selfishly abandon her Captain for another—a mortal man who had stolen her heart, becoming her only desire.

Would Lauryn be able to put tormented spirits to rest and still be true to her own soul?  Or, would she have to make a choice—a choice forcing her to sacrifice one true love for another?

Book Excerpt:

…The stranger gasped, released her hand and demanded, "Who are you? What kind of trick is this?"

"Sir…I assure you…I'm only here to help. My name is Lauryn Kensington. I'm bound for my home in Franklin and I only…" she stammered.

"Kensington? Franklin ?" he mumbled seeming confused. Then much to her dismay, he began tugging at the patch that protected one eye.

"Sir, please! I meant you no harm! I only wanted…" Lauryn began, tears unexpectedly filling her eyes and threatening to spill...

He took her chin firmly in one hand, his thumb traveling caressively and rather intimately over her soft lips as he whispered, "Who am I?”…. She felt the moist tenderness of the soldier’s lips caress her own in the softest, rather saddest of kisses….The sensation of his lips meeting with hers, however brief, was almost unendurably perfect.

Then he pressed his unshaven cheek to her own soft one and whispered into her ear, "The only person alive who understands exactly what you’re looking for.”


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The Heavenly Surrender

Western Historical Romance

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Genieva Bankmans had willfully agreed to the arrangement.  She had given her word and she would not dishonor it.  But when she saw, for the first time, the man whose advertisement she had answered…she was desperately intimidated.  The handsome and commanding Brevan McLean was not what she had expected.  He was not the sort of man she had reconciled herself to marrying.

This man, this stranger whose name Genieva now bore, was strong-willed, quick-tempered and expectant of much from his new wife.  Brevan McLean did not deny he had married her for very practical reasons only.  He merely wanted any woman whose hard work would provide him assistance with the brutal demands of farm life.

But Genieva would learn there were far darker things, grave secrets held unspoken by Brevan McLean concerning his family and his land.  Genieva Bankmans McLean was to find herself in the midst of treachery, violence and villainy with her estranged husband deeply entangled in it.

Book Excerpt:

Taking the paper from his shirt pocket, he once more read the most recent letter he’d received from the as yet unseen Miss Genieva Bankmans. Again he noted the neat and immaculately straight-lined penmanship as he read:

Dear Mr. McLean,
I feel, as you do, that this arrangement will be beneficial and satisfactory for both of us. I agree that we, having committed to follow through with the previously corresponded terms, will legally marry upon my arrival next week. I expect nothing from you, save a place of residence, the required necessities of living, hard work to keep my mind and physical being occupied, and respect. I, in turn, will assist you in whatever is required to sustain and maintain your land and crops, while providing meals, doing mending, and fulfilling other non-intimate duties commonly performed by a man’s legal wife.
     I will arrive in Blue Springs on the 10:00 a.m. train, April 3rd. And finally, to answer your rather unexpected question, I am in no manner averse to immigrants, and I hope you will show the same attitude toward me, being that I am from the eastern United States .

Sincerely,
Genieva Bankmans

Nodding, Brevan returned the paper to his shirt pocket. “Hard-workin’ woman with a sound brain in her head,” he mumbled. Let Brenna nag him ’til her throat was bloody—he knew what he wanted and needed out of life. This Genieva Bankmans would do just fine.


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The Light of the Lovers’ Moon

Western Historical Romance

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Violet Fynne was haunted—haunted by memory.  It had been nearly ten years since her father had moved the family from the tiny town of Rattler Rock to the city of Albany, New York.  Yet the pain and guilt in Violet’s heart was as fresh and as haunting as ever it had been.

It was true Violet had been only a child when her family moved.  Still—though she had been unwillingly pulled away from Rattler Rock—pulled away from him she held most dear—her heart had never left—and her mind had never forgotten the promise she had made—a promise to a boy—to a boy she had loved—a boy she had vowed to return to.

Yet, the world changes—and people move beyond pain and regret.  Thus, when Violet Fynne retuned to Rattler Rock, it was to find that death had touched those she had known before—that the world had indeed changed—that unfamiliar faces now intruded on beloved memories.

Had she returned too late?  Had Violet Fynne lost her chance for peace—and happiness?  Would she be forever haunted by the memory of the boy she had loved nearly ten years before?


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The Pirate Ruse

Regency Historical Romance

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Abducted!  Forcibly taken from her home in New Orleans , Cristabel Albay found herself a prisoner aboard an enemy ship—and soon thereafter, transferred into the vile hands of blood-thirsty pirates!  War waged between the newly liberated United States and King George. Still, Cristabel would soon discover that British sailors were the very least of her worries—for the pirate captain, Bully Booth, owned no loyalty—no sympathy for those he captured.

Yet hope was not entirely lost—for where there was found one crew of pirates—there was ever found another.  Though Cristabel Albay would never have dreamed that she may find fortune in being captured by one pirate captain only to be taken by another—she did!  Bully Booth took no man alive—let no woman live long.  But the pirate Navarrone was known for his clemency.  Thus, Cristabel’s hope in knowing her life’s continuance was restored.

Nonetheless, as Cristabel’s heart began to yearn for the affections of her handsome, beguiling captor—she wondered if Captain Navarrone had only saved her life to execute her poor heart!

Book Excerpt:

An instant before the sea swallowed her, Cristabel Albay gasped her last breath.  She was certain it would truly be her last breath…  Yet, mere moments later, her head broke the surface of the sea and she exhaled the breath she had been holding—the one that had not been her last.

“Do you swim, woman?” the pirate growled.

“Y-yes,” Cristabel stammered.  Her thoughts were muddled—for panic was her only ally.

“Then swim!” he ordered.  “If you want to live to see another sunrise, then swim for The Merry Wench.”

The Screaming Witch was already sailing, and Cristabel would rather have died than be the victim of the atrocities that would have met her aboard it.

Yet to abandon one pirate ship for another?  It was madness!  Still, she could not fathom drowning.  Her only hope in surviving was to do as the pirate ordered.  She had heard tales of Navarrone the Blue Blade—tales of mercy.  Thus, with no other venue to follow, Christabel began to swim—to swim for The Merry Wench and whatever fate awaited her there.


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The Rogue Knight

Regency Historical Romance

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An aristocratic birthright and the luxurious comforts of profound wealth did nothing to comfort Fontaine Pratina following the death of her beloved parents. After two years in the guardianship of her mother’s arrogant and selfish sister, Carileena Wetherton, Fontaine’s only moments of joy and peace were found in the company of the loyal servants of Pratina Manor. Only in the kitchens and servant’s quarters of her grand domicile did Fontaine find friendship, laughter and affection.

The life of a wealthy orphan destined to inherit loomed before Fontaine—a dark cloud of shallow, arrogant associations—of aristocracy, void of simple joys—and void of love. Still, it was her lot—and she saw no way of escaping.

Yet, one cold winter’s night, a battered stranger appeared at the servant’s entrance, seeking shelter and help. He gave only his first name, Knight—and suddenly, Fontaine found herself experiencing fleeting moments of joy in life. Knight was handsome, powerful—the very stuff of the legends of days of old. Though a servant’s class was his, he was proud, strong and even his name seemed to validate his persona—and he blissfully distracted Fontaine from her dull, hopeless existence.

Still, there were devilish secrets—strategies cached by her greedy aunt—and not even the handsome and powerful Knight could save her from them. Or could he? And if he did—would the truth force Fontaine to forfeit her Knight, her heart’s desire—the man she loved?


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The Time of Aspen Falls

Contemporary Romance

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Aspen Falls was happy. Her life was good. Blessed with a wonderful family and a loyal best friend—Aspen did know a measure of contentment.

Still, to Aspen it seemed something was missing—something hovering just beyond her reach—something entirely satisfying that would ensure her happiness. Yet, she couldn’t consciously determine what the “something” was. And so, Aspen sailed through life—not quite perfectly content perhaps—but grateful for her measure of contentment.

Grateful that is, until he appeared—the man in the park—the stranger who jogged passed the bench where Aspen sat during her lunch break each day. As handsome as a dream, and twice as alluring, the man epitomized the absolute stereotypical “real man”—and Aspen’s measure of contentment vanished!

Would Aspen Falls reclaim the comfortable contentment she once knew? Or would the handsome real-man-stranger linger in her mind like a sweet, tricky venom—poisoning all hope of Aspen’s ever finding true happiness with any other man?

Excerpt: 

…Gina nodded and tossed a juicy apple core to the grassy orchard ground below.  “How can we expect to be successful in love when there aren’t any real men left in the world?”

It was a subject Aspen and her best friend had plowed through time and again—the sad lack of “real men” in modern society.

“I mean,” Gina began…“where did they all go?  All those guys our grandmas talk about?”

…“The kind of guy who would sew up his own wound, while defending a woman’s honor with a bare-fisted mean right hook,” Aspen added.

“Yeah,” Gina sighed.  “What happened to those kinds of guys?”

... Aspen bit her lip.  Should she tell Gina?  Should she tell her what she’d discovered just two weeks before?  …Gina was her best friend—her trusted and loyal friend.  They’d shared nearly every secret of their entire lives.  It was time to share this one.

Aspen lowered her voice and said, “I know where one is.”

“One what?”

“A real man.”


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The Touch of Sage

Western Historical Romance

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Following the death of her parents, Sage Willows had lovingly nurtured her younger sisters through childhood.  She loved her sisters.  She’d seen each one married, and was glad to see them settled and happy. Furthermore, she held no resentment at never having found a good man of her own to settle down with.  Yet, regret is different than resentment—and far more haunting.

Still, Sage found as much joy as was allowed a lonely young woman—in being proprietress of Willows’ Boardinghouse, and in the companionship of the four beloved widow-women boarding there.  Until, that is, the devilishly handsome Rebel Lee Mitchell appeared.  It seemed Reb Mitchel instantly and forever vanquished Sage’s feigned contentment.

Dark, mysterious and secretly wounded, Reb Mitchell utterly captured Sage’s lonely heart.  Nevertheless, to Sage Williows, the powerfully attractive cowboy—admired and coveted by every female in his path—seemed entirely unobtainable.  How could a weathered, boardinghouse-proprietress resigned to spinsterhood, ever hope to hold the attention of such a man?  And knowing she couldn’t—would Sage Willows simply sink deeper into the bleak loneliness she’d secreted for so long?

Book Excerpt:

Sage’s hands trembled as she held her cards.  One card—that’s all she needed.  Just one more three to finish her set and she would win!  Reb had won the first hand they’d played—Sage the second.  Now Sage was holding everything she needed to beat him—save one silly three.

...Sage sat, mouth gaping open in astonishment.  She had lost!  She had actually lost!  

Reb looked at her…“Well, Sage,” he began, “I’ll drop in Saturday and collect my winnin’s.”

“N-now, Reb,” Sage stammered, a nervous smile and pleading expression washing over her face.  “Why…why don’t I just fix you up a nice supper on Saturday…some of my special sage gravy…”

“Oh, I like the flavor of sage, all right,” Reb interrupted, smiling at her as he smoothed his mustache with the side of an index finger…“Yes, ma’am!  I do love to savor the taste of sage!  And I plan on gettin’ my fill of it Saturday night…but supper won’t be necessary, Sage.”

Sage felt her cheeks run vermilion as the other ladies in the room giggled… 


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The Trove of the Passion Room

Contemporary Romance

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Description:

Sharlamagne Dickens cherished her family, was intrigued by the past, adored antiques, and enjoyed working at the antique store owned by her parents. Her life, like most, had been touched by tragedy and loss, yet she was happy. Though her life was not void of romance, it was void of a certain emotional passion. Still, she was young and assumed that one day some man might manage to sweep her off her feet. Sharlamagne did not expect to be entirely bowled over, however. And the day she first set eyes on Maxim Tanner, she was!
Elisaveta Tanner’s grandson, Maxim, was the dreamiest, most attractive archetypal male Sharlamagne and her sister, Gwen, had ever seen! Tall, dark, and illegally handsome, Maxim Tanner possessed not only fabulous looks, money, and the sweetest grandmother in the world but also a fair amount of local fame. He was gorgeous, clever, and pathetically out of reach for any average girl.
And so Sharlamagne went about her life happy and satisfied—for she had no idea what sort of emotional intensity the right man could inflame in her. She had no conception of how an age-old mystery and one man could converge to unleash a passion so powerful that it would be either the greatest gift she had ever known—or her final undoing.

Excerpt:

“The Trove of the Passion Room is not simply a story. Nor is it only a fable, a legend or mere nonsensical superstition. It exists. There is a trove hidden in The Passion Room…a trove that has never before in its fullness been found—for it is hidden by the spell of passion that lingers within the room itself. The passion inspired of the room cannot be denied. It cannot be controlled or resisted. And as the influence of The Passion Room cannot be evaded, neither can the trove be revealed without absolute and consummate surrender to…” She paused as her eyes widened. “What?” she breathed. “No way!”


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The Whispered Kiss

Regency Historical Romance

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With the sea at its side, the beautiful township of Bostchelan was home to many—including the lovely Coquette de Bellamont, her three sisters, and beloved father.  In Bostchelan, Coquette knew happiness, and as much contentment as a young woman whose heart had been broken years before could know.  Thus, Coquette dwelt in gladness until the day her father returned from his travels with an astonishing tale to tell.

Antoine de Bellamont returned from his travels by way of Roanan bearing a tale of such great adventure to hardly be believed.  Further, at the center of Antoine’s story loomed a man—the dark Lord of Roanan.  Known for his cruel nature, heartlessness, and tendency to violence, the Lord of Roanan had accused Antoine de Bellamont of wrong doing and demanded recompense.  Antoine had promised recompense would be paid—with the hand of his youngest daughter in marriage.

Thus, Coquette found herself lost—thrust onto a dark journey of her own.  This journey would find her carried away to Roanan Manor—delivered into the hands of the dark and mysterious Lord of Roanan who dominated it.


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The Windswept Flame

Western Historical Romance

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Broken—irreparably broken.  The violent deaths of her father and the young man she’d been engaged to marry, had irrevocably broken Cedar Dale’s heart.  Her mother’s heart had been broken, as well—shattered by the loss of her own true love. Thus, pain and anguish—fear and despair—found Cedar Dale, and her mother Flora, returned to the small western town where life had once been happy and filled with hope.  Perhaps there, Cedar and her mother would find some resemblance of truly living life—instead of merely existing.  And then, a chance meeting with a dream from her past—caused a flicker of wonder to ignite in her bosom.

As a child, Cedar Dale had adored the handsome rancher’s son, Tom Evans.  And when chance brought her face-to-face with the object of her childhood fascination once more, Cedar Dale began to believe that perhaps her fragmented heart could be healed.

Yet, could Cedar truly hope to win the regard of such a man above men as was Tom Evans?  A man kept occupied with hard work and ambition—a man so desperately sought after by seemingly every woman?

Book Excerpt:

Cedar swallowed the lump in her throat.  She tried to breathe normally—but it was Tom Evans standing before her.  Truly it was Tom Evans—and what woman could breath normally with Tom Evans looking at her?...

“I-I’m Cedar Dale,” she stammered, unable to keep herself from staring at him.  “You probably don’t remember me, but my family used to…”

“Jim and Flora’s little girl?” Tom Evans asked…He chuckled—studied her from head to toe for a moment, then said, “Well, you certainly grew up, now didn’t ya?  You weren’t more than eight or nine years old when I seen ya last.”

Cedar nodded—her delight expanding.  Still, in the next moment, she was thoroughly embarrassed as well—embarrassed that he remembered her—for if he remembered her then he remembered the way she’d shamelessly chased after him as a child. Oh, she’d chased after Tom Evans something awful!  Often she literally skipped along behind him like a love-sick puppy!  No doubt he hadn’t forgotten.  How could he have forgotten?  She must’ve driven him nearly mad…


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To Echo the Past

Western Historical Romance

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As her family abandoned the excitement of the city for the uneventful lifestyle of a small, western town, Brynn Clarkston’s worst fears were realized. Stripped of her heart’s hopes and dreams, Brynn knew true loneliness.

Until an ordinary day revealed a heavenly oasis in the desert…Michael McCall. Handsome and irresistibly charming, Michael McCall (the son of legendary horse breeder Jackson McCall) seemed to offer wild distraction and sincere friendship to Brynn. But could Brynn be content with mere friendship when her dreams of Michael involved so much more?


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Weathered Too Young

Western Historical Romance

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Lark Lawrence was alone.  In all the world there was no one who cared for her.  Still, there were worse things than independence—and Lark had grown quite capable of providing for herself.  Nevertheless, as winter loomed, she suddenly found herself with no means by which to afford food and shelter—destitute.

Yet, Tom Evans was a kind and compassionate man.  When Lark Lawrence appeared on his porch, without pause he hired her to keep house and cook for himself and his cantankerous elder brother, Slater.  And although Tom had befriend Lark first, it would be Slater Evans—handsome, brooding and twelve years Lark’s senior—who would unknowingly abduct her heart.

Still, Lark’s true age (which she concealed at first meeting the Evans brothers) was not the only truth she had kept from Slater and Tom Evans.  Darker secrets lay imprisoned deep within her heart—and her past.  However, it is that secrets are made to be found out—and Lark’s secrets revealed would soon couple with the arrival of a woman from Slater’s past to forever shatter her dreams of winning his love—or so it seemed.  Would truth and passion mingle to capture Lark the love she’d never dared to hope for?

Book Excerpt:

“Don’t tell me ya actually let her in, Tom,” he grumbled.

“And this, Miss Lark,” Tom began, “is my charmin’ brother, Slater.”  Tom shook his head as he looked to his brother.  He smiled and chuckled a bit…continued his introductions.  “Slater…this is Lark. She’s gonna cook me somethin’ to eat for dinner ‘sides yer leather-hard jerky and puny old biscuits.”

“My jerky is fine,” Slater grumbled.  “And my biscuits.”

Mustering every ounce of courage left in her, Lark offered a hand to the menacing man.  “Hello,” she greeted.

Slater Evans wiped his hand on his pant leg and dutifully accepted hers.  He gripped her hand so tightly, Lark nearly winced.  He was strong—the proof was in his grip.  Furthermore, he labored hard—this evidence was also in his hand—for his palm was callused—and warm.  His touch unsettled her.  She had the sense he could strangle her with little effort.

“I hate rabbit stew,” he stated.  “…We’re ornery old men, set in our ways, and we don’t take kindly to change.”

Lark felt her eyebrows arch in surprise.  Could it be he was actually going to accept her?


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The Tide of the Mermaid Tears

Regency Historical Romance

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Description:

Ember Taffee had always lived with her mother and sister in the little cottage by the sea. Her father had once lived there too, but the deep had claimed his life long ago. Still, her existence was a happy one, and Ember found joy, imagination, and respite in the sea and the trinkets it would leave for her on the sand. Each morning Ember would wander the shore searching for treasures left by the tides. Though she cherished each pretty shell she found, her favorite gifts from Neptune were the rare mermaid tears-bits of tinted glass worn smooth and lovely by ocean. To Ember, in all the world there were no jewels lovelier than mermaid tears. Yet one morning, Ember was to discover that Neptune would present her with a gift more rare than any other-something she would value far more than the shells and sea glass she collected. One morning Ember Taffee would find a living, breathing man washed up on the sand-a man who would own claim to her heart as full as Neptune himself owned claim to the seas.

Book Excerpt:

She took two more steps and paused—squeezed her eyes tightly shut and listened.  The gulls—the water—yet there was something else.  She listened harder—concentrating on the unfamiliar sound.

Instantly, her eyes popped open as she half expected to see a lingering mermaid on the sand, gasping for breath.  Gasping—coughing!  That was the unfamiliar sound.

Ember gasped herself as she looked forward up the shore to see a man struggling in the water.  He was coughing—spitting water from his mouth as he crawled from the water and onto the sand.  As he collapsed face-down on the shore, Ember lifted her skirt and ran toward the man, dropping to her knees beside him.

“Sir?” she cried, nudging one broad shoulder.  The man was stripped of his shirt—dressed only in a pair of trousers—no shoes…

Ember shook her head, rolling her eyes at her own foolishness.

“Sir?” she called again, nudging his broad shoulder once more.  The man lay on his stomach—his face turned away from her.  “Are you dead, sir?” she asked.  Placing a hand to his back, she sighed with relief as she felt he yet breathed.

“Sir?” she said, clambering over the man’s broad torso. “Sir, are you…?”  Ember gasped as she looked to the man’s face—half buried in the sand...

The man coughed.  His eyes opened—his deep blue eyes, so shaded by thick, wet lashes that Ember wondered how it was he could see beyond them.

“Sir?” Ember ventured.

He coughed, asking, “Where am I?”

“On the seashore, sir,” Ember answered.


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Take a Walk with Me

Contemporary Romance

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“Grandma?” Cozy called as she closed the front door behind her.  She inhaled a deep breath—bathing in the warm, inviting scent of banana nut bread baking in the oven.  “Grandma?  Are you in here?”

“Cozy!” her grandma called in a loud whisper.  “I’m in the kitchen.  Hurry!”

Cozy frowned—her heart leapt as worry consumed her for a moment.  Yet, as she hurried to the kitchen to find her grandma kneeling at the window that faced the new neighbors yard, and peering out with a pair of binoculars, she exhaled a sigh of relief.

“Grandma!  You’re still spying on him?” she giggled.

“Get down!  They’ll see us!  Get down!” Dottie ordered in a whisper, waving one hand in a gesture that Cozy should duck.

Giggling with amusement at her grandma’s latest antics, Cozy dropped to her hands and knees and crawled toward the window.

“Who’ll see us?” she asked.

“Here,” Dottie whispered, pausing only long enough to reach for a second set of binoculars sitting on the nearby counter.  “These are for you.”  She smiled at Cozy—winked as a grin of mischief spread over her face.  “And now…may I present the entertainment for this evening…Mr. Buckly hunk of burning love Bryant…and company.”


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An Old-Fashioned Romance

Contemporary Romance

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Breck had always struggled with finding contentment in city life.  She remembered visiting her uncle’s ranch as a child—the way she had always felt free—as if she could breathe better when away from the city.  Breck figured she was that one child in every family who should have been born in a different era—but she hadn’t been.  Thus, Breck had finished her degree at Colorado State and settled into a big city job at Wilson Investigations.

Still, there were moments of happiness found in city life—instances of excitement and delight.  Whenever Breck found herself in the presence of her handsome, yet seemingly haunted boss, Reese Thatcher—she often new moments of pure euphoria!  But fact was fact, and though no other man was the zinger her soul longed for, Reese Thatcher was a man a woman simply dreamed of winning—not one a woman actually won.  Wasn’t he?

Excerpt:

“Good morning, Mr. Thatcher,” Breck greeted as the scowling man approached her desk.  Even scowling he was gorgeous...

She felt a slight blush rise to her cheeks as Reese Thatcher smiled at her a moment and said, “You look nice today, Breck.”

“Thank you, Mr. Thatcher.”

“Another pumpkin sweater, I see,” he noted.

“Yep,” Breck admitted.  She was flattered that he would notice her passion for sweaters with pumpkins or orange patterns woven into them.  “It is October, after all, Mr. Thatcher.”

The smile he directed at her broadened.  “Is it?” he teased.  “And me without a pumpkin sweater to my name.”


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A Crimson Frost

Medieval Historical Romance

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Back Cover Teaser:

Beloved of her father, King Dacian, and adored by her people, the Scarlet Princess Monet endeavored to serve her kingdom well—for the people of the Kingdom of Karvana were good, and worthy of service.  Long Monet had known that even her marriage would serve her people.  Her husband would be chosen for her—for this was the way of royal existence.

Still, as any woman does—peasant or princess—Monet dreamt of owning true love—of owning choice in love. Thus, each time the raven-haired, sapphire-eyed, Crimson Knight of Karvana rode near—Monet knew regret—for in secret, she loved him—and she could not choose him.

As an arrogant king from another kingdom began to wage war against Karvana, Karvana’s king, knights and soldiers answered the challenge.  The Princess Monet would also know battle.  As the Crimson Knight battled with armor and blade—so the Scarlet Princess would battle in sacrifice and with secrets held.  Thus, when the charge was given to preserve the heart of Karvana—Monet endeavored to serve her kingdom and forget her secreted love.  Yet, love is not so easily forgotten…

Book Excerpt:

Monet held her breath—allowed her hands to fist where they lay in her lap.  The sound of the horses charging—of powerful hooves beating upon the ground—of leather straining and armor braced for battle echoed—thundered as a violent storm.  The Crimson Knight’s lance struck—splintered into a thousand pieces just above its base.  As Sir Ostler fell back—tumbled from his charger and to the ground—Monet closed her eyes—offered a thankful prayer for Sir Broderick’s victory, and thus his safety.

…The crowd in the stands roared with approval as the Crimson Knight turned his horse.  Monet watched as the black charger carrying Sir Broderick Dougray paused before the place where she and her father were seated.  The charger reared, and Sir Broderick raised his splintered lance as tribute to his king.


Today's Price: from $17.95

A Better Reason to Fall in Love

Contemporary Romance

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“Boom chicka wow wow!” Emmy whispered.

“Absolutely!” Tabby breathed as she watched Jagger Brodie saunter past.

She envied Jocelyn for a moment, knowing he was most likely on his way to drop something off on Jocelyn’s desk—or to speak with her.  Jocelyn got to talk with Jagger almost every day, whereas Tabby was lucky if he dropped graphics changes off to her once a week.

“Ba boom chicka wow wow!” Emmy whispered again.  “He’s sporting a red tie today!  Ooo!  The power tie!  He must be feeling confident.”

Tabby smiled, amused and yet simultaneously amazed at Emmy’s observation.  She’d noticed the red tie, too.  “There’s a big marketing meeting this afternoon,” she told Emmy.  “I heard he’s presenting some hard-nose material.”

“Then that explains it,” Emmy said, smiling.  “Mr. Brodie’s about to rock the company’s world!”
“He already rocks mine…every time he walks by,” Tabby whispered.


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