Edwardian eras, as well as the Old West as long as I can remember.
Oregon where only the most determined and resolute individuals dare toil the
soil that spent centuries covered in sagebrush, rock, and the random juniper
tree, I never gave a thought to my great fortune in having a rural foundation
on which to build my future.
girlie-girl being raised as a tomboy came in handy when I began writing western
romances. You’d be surprised how many of the wild adventures in my stories are
based on things I either experienced or witnessed during my formative years.
hopeless romantic, with a bit of sarcasm thrown in for good measure. I’ve
always been a sappy-hearted girl who loves a happy ending. I also love the western and rural way of life and that’s why I began writing sweet and clean western romances.
about me is posted with frequency on my blog.
There you’ll discover I’m completely and entirely smitten with my husband,
lovingly referred to as Captain Cavedweller. You’ll also find that I eat too
much chocolate, have a thing for roses, like to play with my camera, and enjoy researching the towns and eras for my books
Tad Palmer makes a promise to his dying friend to watch over the man’s wife and
child. Years later, he continues to keep an eye on Posey Jacobs and her
precocious little boy. The only problem is that he’s not sure his heart can
withstand the vow he made when he falls in love with the widow and her son.
Posey Jacobs misses her beloved husband, but her wrenching grief has given way to
hope for the future as she finds herself falling deeper and deeper in love with
Tad Palmer. However, the infuriating man doesn’t seem to notice her interest
and treats her as he would his sister.
Throw in a goat who thinks she’s a dog, a town full of quirky characters, and this widow has her work cut out for her if she wants one handsome cowboy to give her his heart.
Tad smirked at her. “Just what, exactly, are you thinking?”
something to do.
corn to his plate. “You were thinking something that made you look as guilty as
all get out, Posey Jo. You better fess up.”
way out to every extremity at his use of the name only he called her. Even John
had never called her Posey Jo.
it, always left her languid and delighted. That name and the way it rolled off
his tongue gave her hope that he might care for her more than she knew.