Bøger af Marcia Lynn McClure

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 her 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 wrongdoing 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.

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 inTo 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 into cowboys, courtship, and kissing the way only Marcia Lynn McClure can deliver!

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?

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

Cassidy Shea's life was nothing if not serene. Loving parents and a doting brother provided happiness and innocent hope as life's experience. Yes-life was blissful at Cassidy's beloved home, Terrill. Still, for all Terrill's 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 a dark stranger appeared, Cassidy could no longer ignore the ominous whispers of the secrets surrounding her. Mason Carlisle, an angry, unpredictable man, materialized-with Cassidy's black fate at his heels. Thus, thrust into a world completely unknown to her, Cassidy found herself trapped, wandering in a labyrinth of mystery and concealments. Serenity was vanquished-and with it her dreams. Yet were the secrets-so cautiously kept from Cassidy-were they indeed the cloth, the very flax from which her dreams were spun, from which eternal bliss would be woven?

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?

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 life-at least for a time. Still, some dreams live fulfilled-and some are lost. Loss changes the very soul of a person. Jacey wondered whether 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 he be her one true love?

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?

Life went along simply, if not rather monotonously, for Breck McCall. Her job was satisfying, and she had true friends. But she felt empty-as if part of her soul were detached and lost to her. She longed for something-something that seemed to be missing. Yet there were moments when Breck felt she might almost touch something wonderful. And most of those moments came while in the presence of her handsome yet seemingly haunted boss-Reese Thatcher.

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.

The Scarlet Princess Monet must serve her kingdom, Karvana, and allow a husband to be chosen for her. She is secretly in love with the Crimson Knight of Karvana. Will she be able to marry the man she loves or will she be forced to forget him and marry someone else?

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 the 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. "Thank you," Brian said to his men. Baylee watched as the security staff sat down in unison. "So there you have it...our extra security staff for the next two months. As I said, if you need assistance...just grab a chimney sweep." Baylee giggled. "Grab a cab, grab a snack...grab a chimney sweep." Candice giggled too. "And you know what? I just figured out what I want for Christmas." "Absolutely," Baylee agreed. "I'll never ring 'Chim Chim Cher-ee' with the same mental pictures again."

Autumn gasped as she looked up to see the third cowboy, slumping in his saddle. Blood was streaming from a wound in his left leg and had begun to dry on his chaps. His shirt was soaked with blood at the left shoulder, and more dried blood was matting the hair on his forehead, eyebrows, and cheek. "My apologies, mister," the cowboy mumbled. "Nothin' to apologize for, son," Ransom said. "But you better get on down here so Doc Sullivan can look you over." "Yes, sir," the cowboy said. Then, as he attempted to dismount, the full depth of his weakness from injury and no doubt blood loss was evident as he fell to the ground and groaned. Autumn, owning a character twin to her mother, was not only prone to mischief and clumsiness but also thoroughly steeped with sympathetic compassion and empathy. Thus, instantly and without thinking, she dropped to her knees and moved the poor cowboy's head to rest in her lap. "He needs to breathe, for one thing," she mumbled as her father hunkered down beside her. Tenderly she tugged at the brown bandana covering the man's nose and mouth, gasping when he opened his eyes and looked at her. Autumn Lake's heart skipped a beat-it skipped several beats-as she gazed into the deep blue of the man's eyes... As the cowboy gazed at Autumn a moment more, he smiled and said, "Heaven's got better-lookin' angels than I expected." But it wasn't his fevered mind's words that astonished her. It wasn't even the fact that the man obviously thought he was at death's door, or beyond it. It was the sight of his smile-his broad smile, his unusually white teeth-and more than anything, it was the clefts he bore on each cheek-the bewilderingly attractive dimples the man owned-that left Autumn breathless and staring at him. This wounded cowboy was flabbergastingly handsome! He was violently attractive, and Autumn had to inwardly whisper to herself to draw a breath...

Youthful beauty, naive 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 uninterested 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 calloused manRansom Lake. But there were other life lessons Ransom Lake would inadvertently teach 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?

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 past 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?

"Cozy!" her grandma called in a loud whisper. "I'm in the kitchen. Hurry!" Cozy frowned, and 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 neighbor's 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 and 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." "And company?" Cozy asked, accepting the binoculars. Slowly she rose to her knees, peering through the binoculars as she began to adjust them. Mr. Bryant came into focus. He was raking more leaves, but this time he had assistance. Cozy felt her mouth drop open-audibly gasped at the sight of the man helping him. "I know!" Dottie whispered. "Va va va voom, right?" "Holy cow!" Cozy exclaimed as she adjusted the binoculars further. "Who is that?" "I have no idea," Dottie answered. "But he's something you don't see every day, right?" Cozy watched as the man, much younger than Mr. Bryant, picked up another piece of wood and set it on a chopping stump. The man splitting the wood had discarded his shirt somewhere, providing a perfect view of the sculpted muscles of his back and arms to Cozy and her grandma...

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.

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?

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?

Excerpt: "Boston," he mumbled."I mean...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.

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 were as fresh and as haunting as ever they 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 returned 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?

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...

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?

Life experience had harshly turned its cruel countenance on the young Fallon Ashby. Her father deceased and her mother suffering with a fatal illness, 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?

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?

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?

Genieva Bankmans had willfully agreed to the arrangement. She had given her word, and she would not dishonor it. Yet when she saw for the first time the man whose advertisement she'd answered, she was desperately intimidated. The handsome and powerful Brevan McLean was not what she had expected-he was not the sort of man she had reconciled herself to marrying.This man-the stranger whose name Genieva now bore-was strong-willed, quick-tempered, and expectant of much from his new wife. Brevan McLean did not deny that he had married Genieva for practical reasons only. He merely wanted any woman whose hard work would provide him assistance with the brutal demands of farm life.Still, Genieva would learn there were far darker things, grave secrets held unspoken by Brevan McLean concerning his family and his land. Genieva Bankmans McLean would find herself in the midst of treachery, violence, and villainy-and her estranged husband deeply entangled in it.

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?

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!