Spotlight: Truly Madly Plaid by Eliza Knight

USA Today bestselling author Eliza Knight takes you into the heart of the Highlands, where these warriors are prepared to give up everything in the fight for their country.

Annie MacPherson’s world was torn apart when her family’s castle was ravaged during the war. Determined to aid her countrymen, she braves the battlefield and finds gravely wounded Lieutenant Craig MacLean. Soon her heart belongs to the fierce warrior.

As the English dragoons draw closer to Annie’s makeshift hospital, Craig knows they have to escape together if they’ll have any chance to survive. But when they come face-to-face with the enemy and Craig is imprisoned, Annie will have to risk everything she has to save the man she can’t live without.

History and adventure come to life in Eliza Knight’s thrilling Scottish Highland romance. Annie is based loosely on Anne MacKay, Anne Leith, and Lady Maxwell, who risked their lives to protect Jacobite soldiers by hiding them, healing their wounds, and helping them escape from enemy forces.

Excerpt

April 5, 1746 

This was a mistake. 

Every hair on the back of Lieutenant Craig MacLean’s neck stood on end, as though each one wielded its own sword against the enemy. 

Without the protection of the fortress walls, they were sitting ducks tromping through the forest. An army with most of its men on foot would not be able to escape should a legion of redcoats cut off their path. 

Winter had not stopped the sieges. Winter had not stopped death. 

A vulture flew overhead, accompanied by two cronies as they cut a wide circular path in the graying sky. Were he and the men the dead meat they sought? 

“We should go back,” he said to Graham MacPherson. “Your invitation was appreciated, but I’ve no’ got a good feeling about this.” 

There was no telling when Cumberland’s men would make their move, and if the men were inebriated from drink and tired from too much celebrating, they’d not be ready for an attack. 

Graham chuckled and tossed the end of a stick he’d been chewing at Craig. “Ye’re afraid of a few birds, are ye?” 

“I’m no’ afraid of anything.” 

“Let loose, MacLean. The men need to have some fun, and so do ye.” 

The very last place that Craig wanted to be was riding toward Cullidunloch Castle. It wasn’t that he didn’t like castles or his host or the warm feast that Graham had promised or the ale that was certain to be flowing. 

Craig liked all of those things quite a lot. More than a lot, if he were being honest. Toss in a bonnie wench or two to flirt with, and he’d be in his own version of heaven. But Cullidunloch Castle wasn’t only home to his best mate. It also happened to house a woman he’d been working hard to avoid for months. Graham’s sister Annie was very beautiful and very irksome. She was as brilliant as she was irritating, and despite that brilliance, the lass had conveniently forgotten the single encounter the two of them had shared. 

He hadn’t forgotten. How could he? And now he was descending upon her home—her and Graham’s home—to partake of their hospitality. Her hospitality. If she was willing to give it. 

Hospitality he would really like to have, considering he hadn’t had a warm bath in weeks. He’d only managed to keep himself from smelling like a chamber pot by swimming—when the lochs weren’t covered in a sheet of ice. His clothes were getting stiff from use, and he was fairly certain that his last good pair of hose now had a hole where his big toe was greedily trying to squeeze through. 

At least right now they weren’t dealing with snow, though it was only early spring and another storm was inevitable in the Highlands. The temperatures had been rising steadily, enough so that the men in his regiment weren’t so fearful of freezing to death anymore. Unless of course it snowed tonight and Annie MacPherson tossed him out with the last of the evening’s rubbish. He wouldn’t put it past her. 

Craig would have to make nice with her, though he found the very idea absurd. Graham didn’t need to know what a termagant his sister truly was. He’d never told his friend what had happened when he’d found Annie retching after battle. 

To everyone else she encountered, Annie was sweet as sunshine. Even the men she had to stitch up while they writhed in pain called her their angel—men in his own regiment, men he’d trained and led into battle. She was lauded for her nursing skills and her bedside manner, which stung even more. Of course he sent his men to her to be mended; she was the best damn healer he’d ever seen. 

And that was about all the amount of niceties he’d extend. Why had he been the only unlucky fellow to have encountered her waspish side? 

He would never be caught openly acknowledging the bonniness of her face. The way her chin curved into a petite point or the way her eyebrows arched delicately over her mesmerizing eyes. Eyes that were the most incredible amber color. 

Bloody hell. 

Every time he looked at Annie, every time she smiled, he saw that derisive sneer she’d flashed at him the night he’d tried to help her. He’d seen a side of her he was certain no one else had, and he’d run as far as he bloody could—after making sure she was safely taken care of, that was. 

He wasn’t a complete monster. 

But he was quite all right with her believing he was, if that meant she’d stay the hell away from him. 

“Is the pottage breakfast no’ agreeing with ye?” Graham’s teasing voice cut through Craig’s thoughts. 

He snorted. “I’ve an iron stomach, lad.” 

“Lad? I think I’ve got a year or two on ye. And ye forget we’ve been living together on campaign for months. Bean pottage is no’ your friend, mate.” 

Craig snickered. “Are ye saying that ye’re in need of a latrine?” 

“Debatable.” 

Craig was glad for his friend’s distraction. Though he didn’t want to talk about beans or what happened after he ate them. 

“Annie’s sure to have a hearty meal for the lot of us this evening.” Graham sounded so wistful, as though he were talking about something more fantastical than food. Like the war ending with Prince Charles Stuart sitting on the throne. Now that was something to long for. 

Craig’s smile faded, and he nodded, having hoped to avoid any further conversation about Graham’s chit of a sister. 

“I’m honored to be your guest.” This much was true. 

“Honored?” Graham let out a guffaw. “Ye’re my brother in arms, mate.” 

While they’d known each other for years, they’d become closer friends after having saved each other’s arses at the battle at Falkirk the January past. 

“I’m certain Logan will want to spar with ye,” Graham was saying of his younger brother, who’d been sent home from the front with a grave injury. “And Annie, she’ll be there to sew ye up.” 

Craig laughed, but only half-heartedly. If he had his way, he’d keep Annie the length of a jousting stick away from him—preferably farther—at all times. 

***

Excerpted from Truly Madly Plaid by Eliza Knight. © 2020 by Eliza Knight. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.

Buy on Amazon | Audible

About the Author

ELIZA KNIGHT is an award-winning and USA Today bestselling author of over fifty sizzling historical romances. When not reading, writing, or researching, she chases after her three children. In her spare time she likes daydreaming, wine-tasting, traveling, hiking, and visiting with family and friends. She lives in Maryland.

Connect: https://eknightauthor.com/

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Spotlight: Walking the Edge by Sue Ward Drake

On the knife edge of danger in the streets of New Orleans, these rugged men call the Big Easy home, and they’ll do whatever it takes to protect their own.

Ex-army ranger Mitch Guidry never should have let his brothers talk him into joining them in the Big Easy. Particularly when they have him going head-to-head with the very last thing he needs: a feisty redhead who has more opinions than even his hard-headed brothers. Loyal and overprotective to a fault, Catherine Hurley will do everything she can to stop Mitch from finding her fugitive brother... and yet, he can't get enough of her.

Cath should be furious with the overbearing ex-ranger who shows up on her doorstep looking for her brother. Sure, Mitch Guidry is hotter than a Louisiana summer and pushes every one of her buttons, but he's also an immediate threat to her family, and family is everything to Cath. Unfortunately, the only way to save her brother is to stick to Mitch like glue. But sharing close quarters with him while they search for her missing brother together proves to be more than a little challenging…particularly when it comes to protecting her heart.

Excerpt

Cath extended her hands to indicate the old city around her. “The French Quarter has been lived in for three hundred years. Some early inhabitants still linger. For you ghost doubters, I bet you’ll come away from our walk believing. At least a little.”  

The sound of pounding feet drew everyone’s attention to the man running toward them. She urged her customers closer to the entrance of Pere Antoine Alley, but the jogger stopped under a street lantern right in front of her.  

Her blood sizzled. She’d seen this tan windbreaker, this dark cap of hair, and the body probably capable of two hundred push-ups before breakfast. Exactly forty-five flipping minutes ago. Like metal to a magnet, her body veered into his force field until…his fierce gaze pinned her with a laser-tag blast.  

Cath staggered under the impact, the earlier butterflies fluttering back to life. He stood as still as the wrought iron fence behind him, his big hands hanging beside powerful thighs. For now. Any minute he could spring into action.  

Within seconds of busting into her apartment, he’d barged past her and pushed her brother against the stove. Then when Les bolted out the door, this guy had followed in a heartbeat.  

No. Back up the reel.  

They’d stared at each other for a Guinness-record-setting second then, and now his whole body seemed to hum like a live wire. He’d found her brother inside her house. Did that mean he could arrest her, too?  

Her throat closed up, and a clamp squeezed all the air from her lungs. She braced, waiting for him to grab her hands and lock on cuffs.  

A cough from one of her group jolted her.  

The clock on her two-hour ghost tour ticked away, and she had to make sure the travel website guy would have nothing but raves.  

“Listen…” Cath raised a finger to her lips. “If you’re quiet you can sometimes hear a man singing.”  

The tourists followed her down the flagstone walkway. She turned around to speak again but slammed her mouth shut. Of all the gall.  

The hunky bounty hunter stood front and center. The hard angles of his features cast a pattern of light and dark across his face, and danger flashed from him in neon lights. For one insane moment when his body had brushed hers in the apartment alley, she’d sensed he might kiss her like the prince waking up Sleeping Beauty. He’d awakened something, alright. Cath squared her shoulders and cleared her throat. “Excuse me, this is a paid tour.”  

“Is it too late to join?” His rich baritone melted into her hungry pores like chocolate sauce on a sundae.  

Days. Weeks. Months too late. 

Not for a minute did she believe him to be a rabid fan of haunted houses or an avid collector of ghost stories, but she needed all the dinero she could earn to pay for Les’s lawyer. She eyed the bounty hunter. “Would you like to buy a ticket?” 

“You take plastic?” His long—sensual—mouth lifted. The masculine assurance in his smile ought to send her back straight up. Instead, the heat coming off him poured into her private places.  

“Of course.” They conversed like polite strangers, not people who’d been forced to interact under extreme conditions. She wanted to know what had happened with her brother, but she couldn’t ask in the middle of her tour. “I didn’t say anything at the time, but you can pay now for your previous tour, if you like.” 

“My previous tour?” The confusion in his eyes disappeared when he realized she meant his bounty hunter visit to her apartment. He shrugged all friendly-like. “I can always contest the charge if it’s not correct.” 

Of course, he would.  

“Nah. Consider it lagniappe.” Cath turned to her tourists and explained the old New Orleans custom of grocers giving customers a little something extra. Handsome would likely never know if she charged more than normal, but she prided herself on running an ethical business. “What’s over is over.” Please. 

One eyebrow rose. “Are you sure about that?”  

Positive. She lowered her head to avoid the sight of his disturbing physique. “If you give me an email address, I’ll send you a receipt.”  

“No need. I’m good.”  

Good at his job? Good at flirting? Good in bed?  

Or all three. She handed back his credit card. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Mitchell Guidry.”  

“Mitch.”  

“I doubt we’ll ever be on a first name basis, Mr. Guidry.”  

“You underestimate me.”  

She was coming to see the truth in that.  

***

Excerpted from Walking the Edge by Sue Ward Drake. © 2020 by Sue Ward Drake. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.

Buy on Amazon | Audible

About the Author

Sue Ward Drake takes you on a wild ride through the steamy streets of New Orleans in this action-packed, sexy romantic suspense!

Sue Ward Drake has lived in most of the different neighborhoods of New Orleans, including the French Quarter. She was forced to leave during hurricane Katrina, but still counts as friends a wide spectrum of the city’s inhabitants. Though she now resides minutes from the mountains, her heart will always belong to the Big Easy.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Spotlight: Someone to Trust by Patricia Davids

Some connections go beyond words…in this novel by USA TODAY bestselling author Patricia Davids. On an Amish matchmaking trip, can she avoid falling in love? Esther Burkholder has no interest in her stepmother’s matchmaking when her family visits an Amish community in Maine. Deaf from a young age, she’s positive a hearing man couldn’t understand the joys and trials of living in a silent world. But Gabe Fischer is certainly handsome, hardworking and brave. More importantly, he sees the real Esther. Might this Amish bachelor be her unexpected perfect match?

Excerpt

“I’m happy to tell you that your mother’s cousin Waneta is coming for a visit.”

Gabe Fisher looked up from the glowing metal wheel rim he was heating in the forge as something in his father’s voice caught his attention. Ezekiel Fisher, or Zeke as everyone called him, wasn’t overly fond of Waneta, so why was he trying so hard to sound cheerful?

Gabe glanced around the workshop. None of his three brothers seemed to have noticed anything unusual.

Seth continued setting up the lathe to drill out a wheel hub. “That will be nice for Mamm. She has been missing her friends back home. I know she and Waneta are close.”

Seth was Gabe’s younger brother by fifteen minutes. They might look identical, but Seth was the most tenderhearted of the brothers. He was twenty minutes older than no-nonsense Asher, the last Fisher triplet, who was readying wooden spokes to be inserted into the finished wheel hub. Asher bore only a passing resemblance to his two older brothers. Where Gabe and Seth were both blond with blue eyes, Asher was dark-haired with their mother’s brown eyes. All three men shared the same tall, muscular frame as their father.

“Is she bringing her new husband to meet the rest of us?” Moses asked, greasing the axle of the buggy they were repairing. At twenty he was the baby brother by four years and the one that looked the most like their mother, with his soft brown curls and engaging grin. He was the only one who hadn’t yet joined their Amish church. He was still enjoying his rumspringa, the “running around” years most Amish youths were allowed before making their decision to be baptized.

“This isn’t the best time for a visit,” Asher said, expressing exactly what Gabe had been thinking.

“Apparently your mother and Waneta have been planning this for ages, but she only told me last night. She wanted it to be a surprise for you boys.”

Asher’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“You know Waneta. She likes to surprise folks. They should be here later today.”

Gabe continued turning the rim in the fire. Both his parents had gone to the wedding, but he and his brothers had been busy keeping the new business running. A business that didn’t look like it would support the entire family through another winter. If things didn’t improve by the end of the summer, the family would have some hard choices to make.

“They? Her new husband is coming with her, then?” Seth said.

Gabe glanced at his father and saw him draw a deep breath. “He isn’t, but his children are.”

Seth finally seemed to notice their father’s unease and stopped working. “How many children?”

“Five.” 

“The house will be lively with that many kinder underfoot,” Moses said. “How old are they?”

“The youngest is ten. The others are closer to your ages,” Daed said, keeping his eyes averted.

Seth, Asher and Gabe exchanged knowing looks. They shared a close connection that didn’t always require words.

Asher’s lips thinned as he pinned his gaze on his father. “Would they happen to be maydels close to our age?”

Their father didn’t answer.

“Daed?” the triplets said together. Moses stopped what he was doing and gave them a puzzled look.

Their father cleared his throat. “I believe your mother said they are between twenty and twenty-five. Modest, dutiful daughters, as Waneta described them.”

“Courting age,” Moses said with a grin.

“Marriageable age.” Seth shook his head. “I don’t have any interest in courting until we are sure our business will survive.”

Gabe crossed his arms over his chest. “Has Mamm taken to importing possible brides for us now?”

There was a lack of unmarried Amish women in their new community in northern Maine, but that didn’t bother Gabe. Like Seth, his focus was on improving the family’s buggy-making and wheel-repair business while expanding the harness-making and leather goods shop he ran next door.

“Tell Mamm we can find our own wives,” Asher said.

“When we are ready,” Seth added.

Daed scowled at all the brothers. “That kind of talk is exactly why your mother was worried about sharing this news. She wants you boys to be polite to Waneta’s new stepdaughters and nothing more. Show them a nice time while they are here. No one is talking about marriage.”

Buy on Amazon

USA Today best-selling author Patricia Davids was born and raised in Kansas. After forty years as an NICU nurse, Pat switched careers to become an inspirational writer. She enjoys spending time with her daughter and grandchildren, traveling and playing with her dogs, who think fetch should be a twenty-four hour a day game. When not on the road or throwing a ball, Pat is happily dreaming up new stories.

Website: https://patriciadavids.com/index.html 

Spotlight: Earl’s Well That Ends Well by Jane Ashford

This beautiful, clean Regency romance from beloved author Jane Ashford takes you to a glittering world of revelations and romance, where a lonely earl can find love where he least expects it…

Arthur Shelton, Earl of Macklin, has helped four young noblemen recover from grief and find love, but he's learned to live his own life as a widower. Yet when he returns home after traveling, his estate feels too empty, and he quickly heads to London. There, he encounters Teresa Alvarez de Granada, a charming Spanish noblewoman and is immediately entranced. 

There is no room for earls in the quiet, safe life Teresa has finally found for herself. The earl might be charming and handsome, but she knows firsthand how dangerous attraction can be. The more determined Teresa is to discourage Arthur, the more entangled they get, and it's only a matter of time before her respect for him starts to feel a lot like love.

Excerpt

It was a lovely spot. The carpet of blue blossoms wound back into the trees like rivulets of color, beckoning one deeper into the shade of branches in new leaf. A stream ran nearby, the gurgle of water blending with birdsong. The blossoms’ sweet scent filled the air.

Senora Alvarez turned in a circle to take it all in. “Maravilloso!” She held out her arms as if to embrace the landscape and laughed. 

It was the first time Arthur had seen her really laugh, and he found it glorious – the musical sound, the flash of her dark eyes, the joyous gesture, the curve of her lips. She seemed lit from within, as if a shadow had been whisked away and the brilliance inside revealed. This was how she should always be, he thought, glowing, carefree. To be the thing that made her happy – that would be an achievement!

“I have been meaning to take up some cobbles behind my house and make a place for a garden,” she said. “Why have I put it off? I must do it at once. This is…comida para el alma. Food for the soul.”

Removing a few cobbles sounded meager. Arthur had gardens galore at his estates. He wished he could give her one. But a garden wasn’t like a jewel, to be handed over. Even if she would easily accept gifts, which she would not.

“I think Mr. Dolan would be glad to pull them out,” she went on as if the plan was unfolding in her mind. 

“Dolan?”

Senora Alvarez turned as if she’d forgotten he was there. “One of my neighbors is a builder.” 

“Ah. Friend of yours?” He was not, of course, jealous. That would be ridiculous.

The query seemed to arrest and then amuse her. “He is, along with others on my street, ever since we rid ourselves of Dilch. That canalla bullied Mr. Dolan’s son.”

And she had stopped it. Arthur had never known a woman so self-sufficient. She had a life he knew nothing of, a network of friends. He felt he wasn’t quite one of them, and this galled.

“People talk and do small favors for each other now. It is pleasant.” She walked deeper into the wood, looking right and left as if to drink everything in. She was enraptured, and Arthur found himself envying a swathe of flowers. The idea made him laugh.

Senora Alvarez looked over her shoulder at him. “You find this amusing? That people should be kind?”

“Not that.”

She raised dark eyebrows.

“I was laughing at myself.”

“You were?” She sounded surprised. 

“Why shouldn’t I? In particular.”

“You are an earl.”

“And that means I cannot be ridiculous? The title conveys no such immunity. Alas.” He smiled at her.

For some reason, she looked uneasy.

“And I have found laughter the remedy for a great many ills,” Arthur added. Senora Alvarez seemed mystified, or…annoyed? That couldn’t be right. Why should she be? Just a moment ago she’d been delighted. “Is something wrong?”

“You puzzle me…sometimes.”

“But I am the most transparent of men,” he joked. He was so pleased to learn that she thought about him that he added, “What do you wish to know? I have no secrets.”

Her expression revealed his mistake. Senora Alvarez didn’t care to discuss secrets. She had too many of her own. “I ask nothing of you,” she replied, turning to walk on. 

Disappointed, with her and himself, Arthur followed. Tom had wandered off, as he tended to do. There’d been no sign of him since they left the carriage. They were alone in a world of color and birdsong and scent. Perhaps the peaceful beauty of the place would soothe her temper, Arthur thought. But he didn’t know what would gain her confidence.

The gurgle of the stream grew louder, and then there it was, a thread of clear water tumbling over rocks. Bluebells, ferns, and mosses bent over the banks. Soft moisture wafted through the air. Senora Alvarez breathed it in. “Hermosa,” she said. 

She was, but Arthur was not foolish enough to voice his opinion. He could not resist stepping closer.

A partridge erupted out of the bracken with a violent whirr of wings. Arthur started, twisted one boot heel on a stone, missed his footing with the other, and stumbled toward the stream.

She caught him with an arm about his waist, stopping his slide to a certain dunking. They teetered together on the bank. He held onto her shoulders to regain his balance. Though she was much smaller, her grip was strong, her footing solid. She could hold her own and more. Her body felt soft and supple against his as they came safely to rest. 

Arthur looked down. Her face was inches away. Her dark eyes were wide, her lovely lips slightly parted, as if primed for a kiss. She raised her chin. He bent his head to touch them with his, an instant of exquisite pleasure. 

She jerked away, nearly sending him reeling once again. Her expression had gone stark. All the beautiful animation had drained out of it. “Do not play such games with me,” she said.

“Games?”

“I told you that what I said at the theater meant nothing!”

“So you did,” replied Arthur, stung. “And I heard you.”

“Yet you try to take advantage.” 

“The bird startled me. I tripped.” 

“Into my lips.” Her tone was contemptuous. 

 “I beg your pardon. In the moment I thought you…”  

“You know nothing about me. But I will tell you that I despise tricks like that.”

“It was no such thing.”

She made a derisive sound.

She had no grounds to address him with such disdain, to practically call him a liar. “Do you doubt my word?”

“I observe your actions,” she answered, moving away from him. “Where has Tom gone?”

“I have no idea.”

“Tom?” she called. “Where are you?”

“Here,” came the reply from downstream “Come and see. There’s a waterfall.” 

Senora Alvarez walked away. 

***

Excerpted from Earl’s Well That Ends Well by Jane Ashford. © 2020 by Jane Ashford. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.

Buy on Amazon | Audible

About the Author

Jane Ashford, a beloved author of historical romances, has been published in Sweden, Italy, England, Denmark, France, Russia, Latvia, and Spain, as well as the United States. Jane has been nominated for a Career Achievement Award by RT Book Reviews. Visit her online at www.janeashford.com. She lives in Los Angeles, California.

Author Website: https://www.janeashford.com/ 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Spotlight: Mistletoe & Mr. Right by Sarah Morgenthaler

How the moose (almost) stole Christmas. 

Lana Montgomery is everything the quirky small town of Moose Springs, Alaska can’t stand: a rich socialite with dreams of changing things for the better. But Lana’s determined to prove that she belongs…even if it means trading her stilettos for snow boots and tracking one of the town’s hairiest Christmas mysteries: the Santa Moose, an antlered Grinch hell-bent on destroying every bit of holiday cheer (and tinsel) it can sink its teeth into. 

And really…how hard could it be? 

The last few years have been tough on Rick Harding, and it’s not getting any easier now that his dream girl’s back in town. When Lana accidentally tranquilizes him instead of the Santa Moose, it’s clear she needs help, fast…and this could be his chance to finally catch her eye. It’s an all-out Christmas war, but if they can nab that darn moose before it destroys the town, Rick and Lana might finally find a place where they both belong…together. 

Buy on Amazon | Audible

About the Author

Geologist and lifelong science nerd, SARAH MORGENTHALER is a passionate supporter of chocolate chip cookies, geeking out over rocks, and playing with her rescue pit bull, Sammy. When not writing romantic comedy and contemporary romance set in far-off places, Sarah can be found traveling with her husband, hiking national parks, and enjoying her own happily ever after. Sarah is a two-time Golden Heart Finalist and winner of the NOLA STARS Suzannah award. 

Author Website: https://sarahmorgenthaler.com/ 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Spotlight: Smokin’ Hot Cowboy Christmas by Kim Redford

Have yourself a Smokin’ Hot Cowboy Christmas

It’s been one fiasco after another for newcomer Belle Tarleton since she began trying to turn her ranch into an arts center. Local workers seem determined to ruin her Christmas party plans, and she hopes bringing in down-on-his-luck Rowdy Holloway to help with renovations will get things back on track.

Rowdy is the unluckiest cowboy in the whole of Wildcat Bluff County, Texas, and things are not improving this holiday season. Sure, he’s the object of many local women’s drool-worthy fantasies, but the town has decided he’s the man who should stop Belle’s renovation plans.

It started as a simple mission, but now Rowdy’s so twisted up he doesn’t know whose side he’s on. With only days until Christmas, Rowdy and Belle need to tap into their fiery personalities and off-the-charts chemistry if they’re ever going to find a way to thaw the ice on this reluctant town’s heart.

Excerpt

Life had taken on the magical quality of Christmas that Rowdy enjoyed every year. As he drove down Wildcat Road, he thought about the fact that the county was only two days out from the annual festivities centered in Old Town, Sure-Shot, and Wildcat Hall Park. Out-of-towners were starting to arrive and fill up Twin Oaks B&B, Wildcat Bluff Hotel, Cowboy Cabins, and every other available space for rent. It was fun and exciting, but everybody was running to get last-minute details completed so everything rolled out smoothly for those who came to relax and enjoy the holidays.

Well, not quite everybody was involved in supporting the festivities. At Lulabelle & You Ranch, Belle had created her own little island of holiday happiness. She wasn’t involved in the county’s affairs, so she was focused on her clothing line, the horses and cattle on the ranch, and the pigeons in her barn. He smiled at another thought. She also put a little focus on him because he spent evenings at her house.

He turned off the road, rattled across the cattle guard of Belle’s ranch, and drove up to her house. He parked in front on the circle drive. He shook his head in disgust at the shingle stacks. They were a glaring reminder of what he—and nobody else—hadn’t done for her, but at least most of them were there. If she had a leak on her roof, there’d have been no question about reroofing her house, but upgrading could wait until they were past the holidays…at least he hoped she saw it that way.

He’d make up for the shingles today because he was arriving with gifts in the back of his one-ton pickup, sort of like Santa Claus with gifts in the back of his sleigh. Horsepower and reindeer-power got the job done.

She knew he was coming, so she opened the front door, raced across the lawn, and threw herself into his arms just as he stepped out of his vehicle. She felt good like she always did…and so right with him.

“Did you bring my gifts like you said?” She grinned at him, excited like a little kid on Christmas morning.

“Look in the back of the truck.”

She started to run back there but stopped and looked at him. “You could have waited until Christmas.”

“I want you to enjoy my gifts now. Besides, aren’t you going to your family’s ranch for Christmas dinner?”

“I always do, but this year…”

“Family is important. Tradition is important.”

“But we’re important, too.”

He pressed a soft kiss to the tip of her nose. “Let’s table that for today. I want you to have what I made.”

“Made?” She opened her hazel eyes wide in excitement.

He tugged her to the back of his truck.

“Oh my! You made furniture for my new patio?”

“Remember, I told you I did a little woodworking as a hobby. I hope you like cedar. It’s perfect for outdoors.”

“It’s gorgeous.”

He was pleased with the two chairs, love seat, and table he’d created for her. He lowered the tailgate and hopped up into the bed of his truck. He set each piece on the ground and then picked up a big sack and handed it to her. He leaped back down and closed the tailgate.

“What’s in here?” She hugged the sack to her chest. “It feels soft.”

“You need cushions for your furniture, don’t you?”

“Wonderful! You thought of everything.”

“I wanted you to have it all for Christmas.”

She peeked into the open sack. “I can hardly believe it. You matched the color of the new trim on my house.”

“If I’m going to do something, I do it right.”

She gave him a little self-satisfied smile. “Yeah. I can give testimony to that fact.”

“Come on. I’ll carry your new furniture around back and set it up.”

“I’ll help.”

He picked up the love seat and headed for the backyard. She kept right up with him, lugging the sack of cushions. When they got there, he set down his piece of furniture near the metal set. The old patio set looked insubstantial, almost whimsical, in comparison.

“Where do you want me to position your new furniture?”

“I’m not sure.” She set the big sack on top of the old table.

He checked the flagstone patio under his feet, looking for any problems that might have occurred since he’d finished installing it. No issues so far, but he didn’t expect any because he did meticulous work. He liked the big size of the patio. It stretched the length of the house just outside the long bank of windows, so the patio served as an extension of that room, melding outdoors with indoors.

He was as proud of building the patio as he was of making the furniture. He’d worked hard to bring her vision to life…and he’d succeeded. He realized now that when something was made for someone out of love, it turned out not just beautiful but special as well. He could easily spend a lifetime creating wonderful things for her just to see her face fill with happiness as it was at this moment. He’d learned that was part of what love was all about.

“I want to center the set just outside the windows so when I’m inside I can see how beautiful it looks outside,” she said.

He tugged her close, feeling his heart swell with happiness. “Perfect. Now let’s get the rest of your new furniture back here.”

Soon they had the cedar pieces arranged on the patio with the cushions in place. It looked good, even better than he’d imagined when he was making it.

“Rowdy, I love it.” She set the crimson-silk-flower holiday arrangement he’d included in the sack on the center of the table and then plopped down in a chair and stroked long fingers across the smooth, varnished tabletop.

“Merry Christmas.” He sat down beside her, feeling as if he’d come home for the holidays.

Buy on Amazon

About the Author

Kim Redford is a bestselling author of contemporary Western romance novels. She grew up in Texas with cowboys, cowgirls, horses, cattle, and rodeos. She’s a rescue cat wrangler and horseback rider—when she takes a break from her keyboard. Kim Redford currently divides her time between homes in Oklahoma and Richardson, Texas.

Author Website: http://www.kimredford.com/

a Rafflecopter giveaway