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The Marriage Season

Will the marriage pact be fulfilled? Return to Mustang Creek, Wyoming, with #1 New York Times bestselling author Linda Lael Miller for more Brides of Bliss County! Since Hadleigh, Melody and Bex—the best of best friends—entered into a marriage pact, two of them have found (and married) the men of their hearts. But Bex doesn't think she'll be as fortunate as the others. Her own first love died years ago in a faraway war, and Bex has lost hope for a happy marriage of her own. She concentrates on her business, a successful chain of fitness clubs, instead. Then, when single father Tate Calder comes to Mustang Creek with his two sons in tow, who befriend Bex's eight-year-old nephew, she and the handsome, aloof newcomer are constantly thrown together. But is the marriage season over? Or can a man with doubts about love be the right husband for a woman who wants it all?
Views: 14

Big Sky Wedding

The "First Lady of the West," #1 New York Times bestselling author Linda Lael Miller, cordially invites you to Parable, Montana--where love awaits Wedding bells are ringing in Parable, Montana, but Brylee Parrish hasn't enjoyed the sound since being jilted at the altar by Hutch Carmody. She's over Hutch now, and running a multimillion-dollar business is challenging enough for this country gal. So she should avoid falling head over boot heels for A-list actor Zane Sutton. He's come home to his rodeo roots, but Hollywood lured him away once and just might again. Yet everything about him, from his easy charm to his concern for his young half brother, seems too genuine to resist.... Zane didn't come to Parable for love--but count on a spirited woman to change a jaded cowboy's mind. Problem is, Brylee's not convinced he's here to stay. Good thing he's determined to prove to her, kiss by kiss, that she's meant to...
Views: 14

Springwater Wedding

Linda Lael Miller returns to an unforgettable Montana town for a very special occasion.... SPRINGWATER WEDDING Once a frontier stagecoach stop, tiny Springwater has grown and changed and entered the twenty-first century. Cattle rustlers may still be stirring up trouble, but now they're high-tech operators in a modern world. Where stagecoaches once rolled along muddy roads, the Internet is now the newest highway in town. But heartbreak is still heartbreak and love still love, and Springwater still boasts a rich legacy of joy, sorrow, and second chances — as two childhood sweethearts discover when they rekindle a long-ago passion in the place they will always call home.Maggie McCaffrey left her fast-paced corporate job to take a chance on a more rewarding — but riskier — business venture: turning the dilapidated Springwater Station into a bed-and-breakfast. But Maggie didn't count on running straight into J.T. Wainwright, the...
Views: 12

State Secrets

Cookbook author Holly Llewellyn is the last person who should be labeled an "enemy of the state"—or is she? After all, her brother is a missing traitor, and with her ties to the president, the Secret Service isn't taking chances….So they send in agent David Goddard, undercover. But after one glance, David knows Holly isn't just an "assignment"—she's a woman who'll change his life.About the AuthorThe daughter of a town marshal, Linda Lael Miller is a New York Times bestselling author of more than sixty historical and contemporary novels that reflect her love of the West. Raised in Northport, Washington, the self-confessed “barn goddess” now lives in Spokane, Washington. Her most recent New York Times bestsellers include McKettrick’s Choice and Secondhand Bride. Dedicated to helping others, Linda personally finances her Linda Lael Miller Scholarships for Women, awarded annually to women seeking to improve their lot in life through education. More information about Linda, her novels and her scholarships is available at www.lindalaelmiller.com. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.The tall man ran one hand through his dark hair and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Despite the heavy woolen overcoat he wore, he was still cold. Swift indigo eyes scanned the first page of the dossier. "So what, Walt?" David Goddard bit out, frowning. "She's the president-elect's third cousin. Since when do third cousins qualify for Secret Service protection?"Walt Zigman made a contemptuous, impatient sound. Apparently, this assignment wasn't exactly dear to his crusty old heart. "It isn't protection, Goddard," he snarled. "Remember that. This is a surveillance project."David sat back in his chair, drawing his right ankle up to rest on his left knee. "Surveillance," he muttered, suppressing an unprofessional urge to fling the file on Holly Llewellyn back into the mess that littered Walt's desk. "That isn't our—""I know, Goddard," Walt interrupted, falling into his own chair and reaching into one ink-stained shirt pocket for a match to light the cigar stub that was always in his mouth. "I know. I tried to give this thing to the Bureau. I even tried the CIA. But they both threw it right back in my lap. Anything connected with the president or his family is our bailiwick—according to them."David breathed a swearword. He was tired and he could still feel the bite of the crisp November wind outside. He wanted to get out of Washington and have Thanksgiving dinner in Arlington with his sister, Chris, and her family. He wanted to spoil her kids and lounge in front of her fireplace. "Okay, Walt. So Ms. Llewellyn is our problem. Why am I the lucky one?"Walt chortled. "Born under the right star, I guess. Come on, Goddard, how bad can it be? You spend a few weeks— maybe a few months—in Spokane. You get the lady to like you. And you make damned sure she's really what she claims to be, and not a courier for that brother of hers."David had the beginnings of a headache. He opened the dossier again, skimming the rundown on Holly Llewellyn. Twenty-seven years old. Blond. Blue-eyed. Five feet, seven inches tall. A one hundred twenty-three pound pain. "What makes you think she's running secrets? It says here she writes cookbooks.""Middle Eastern cookbooks," David's supervisor imparted with dramatic import.David's mouth twisted into a wry grin. "That alone should convict her," he mocked."Dammit, Goddard, keep your sparkling wit to yourself. Can't you see that we've got the makings of a scandal here that would make Watergate seem insignificant?""A scandal?""Yes! How would it look if the new president's cousin turned out to be a traitor? Isn't it bad enough that her brother sold out? She could be cut from the same cloth!"David sighed. "That's unlikely, Walt. It says here that she's written a book about Scandinavian meatballs. Good God, maybe she's spying for the Swedes!""Stow it.""Or the Danes. You've got to watch those Danes, crafty little devils, one and all.""Goddard!""She wrote Fun With Tacos, too, I see," David pressed on dryly. "Do you think she's working for the Mexicans? Holy guacamole, Batman—do you suppose they're planning to rush up here and take back Texas?"Walt was leaning into the desk, his meaty hands braced against the edge, his cigar stub bobbing up and down in outrage. "I'm glad you think this situation is funny, Goddard, but it just so happens that the next president of the United States doesn't agree with you! This little lady happens to have a bona fide, card-carrying traitor for a brother!"David flipped through the rest of the dossier, not so hastily this time. His headache was worse. "Craig Llewellyn," he muttered."You remember him, don't you, Goddard?" Walt gibed, going to stand at the barred window of his dingy little office.Remember? David remembered, all right—how could he help it? Craig Llewellyn's defection had never made the national news, by some miracle, but every federal agent in the country knew the sordid story. "Being Llewellyn's sister doesn't make the lady a security risk, Walt," he pointed out quietly."Maybe not. If she wasn't related to our next president, I wouldn't be worried. If she hadn't just spent two months in Iran, I wouldn't be worried. As it is, I'm damned worried.""You'd think the opposition would have caught on to this before the election…" David speculated, thinking of the outgoing president and the no-holds-barred campaign he had conducted."They didn't," Walt broke in. "I'll expect your first report early next week.""Right." David stood up and stretched. Every muscle in his long frame ached with residual cold. "Is this operation covert, by the way, or do I just knock on Ms. Llewellyn's door and flash my identification?"Clearly, Walt Zigman had a headache, too. "That was a stupid question, Goddard. You've been on White House Detail too damned long. Spent too much time walking the first lady's dog. Of course it's covert!"David shrugged, feeling weary. Maybe Walt was right; maybe he was getting soft. Instead of thinking about this case on every level, a part of him was anticipating a day at Chris's place. The kids would be watching the Macy's parade on TV. The smell of roasting turkey would be everywhere….He reached for the dossier. "Can I take this?"Walt waved impatiently. "Yeah, yeah, that's your copy."David tucked the file under one arm. He supposed it was the forthcoming holiday that was distracting him, stirring up bittersweet memories and half-formed hopes, making him feel far older than his thirty-four years. He tried to imagine Marleen, his ex-wife, roasting turkey or settling a band of freckle-faced rug rats in front of the tube to watch a Thanksgiving parade and couldn't. "You having dinner here, Walt?" he asked, his hand on the doorknob. "Tomorrow, I mean?"Zigman grinned around his cigar stub. "Nope. Going to New York to see my daughter. Happy Thanksgiving, Goddard."David laughed, though he had a bereft feeling inside. He thought of Marleen studying chimpanzees in Borneo and wondered if she remembered that she'd once wanted to raise an entirely different kind of monkey. "I'll call you on Monday.""Right."David stepped out into the wide, familiar hallway, with its lighted paintings and expensively shabby carpeting. In front of the Oval Office, two agents guarded the heavy double doors. He nodded and they nodded back, their faces solemn.Downstairs, David left the White House by a side door, then strode through the snow-dusted parking lot to his car. At one of the high wrought-iron gates, he showed his ID, even though he was going out, not in, even though he knew the young Marines on duty, knew their wives and their kids and their collar sizes.Again he felt lonely. Even quietly desperate. As the White House gate clanked shut behind him, he turned up the car radio in a belated effort to cover the sound.Holly Llewellyn placed the elegantly scripted invitation in the center of the kitchen mantelpiece. Hands tucked into the pockets of her cozy blue jogging jacket, she stood back to admire it."Imagine," said her friend and secretary, Elaine Bateman, from her chair at the cluttered trestle table. "Being invited to the White House! An Inaugural Ball! Good heavens, Holly, what are you going to wear?"Holly's bright, aquamarine eyes danced with mischief and she withdrew her hands from her pockets to push her chin-length blond hair atop her head. "Nothing," she crooned, striking a cheesecake pose."That ought to cause a sensation!"Holly made a face and went back to the printer set up on the end of the trestle table. She began printing out the pages of "Ka-bobs for a Crowd," the initial chapter of her new book. "I meant that I'm not going," she pointed out. "After all, Toby is in school and I've got my classes to teach and this book to finish. These recipes all have to be tested and retested, you know. And there's my newspaper column—""Excuses!" Elaine cried, ignoring the finished manuscript, Soups are Super, that she was supposed to be indexing. "Good Lord, Holly, how many times does a person's cousin get elected president? I can't believe you'd miss a chance like this! Besides, you've got until January."The rhythmic whining of the printer was giving Holly a headache; she closed her eyes and ran her hands down the sides of her trim-fitting jeans. "I'm not going," she repeated sharply.Elaine sighed in a way that made Holly regret her tone of voice. "Okay, Holl. No problem. Listen, tomorrow's Thanksgiving—do you mind if I take this home and work on it there? I've got a turkey to stuff and ceramic pilgrims to set out in strategic places."Holly laughed, able to look at her friend now. "Go," she said. "And leave the manuscript here. It will keep until Monday."Elaine beamed triumphantly, gathering the stack of blue-penciled pages into a neat pile. "You were always a soft touch for ceramic pilgrims," she grinned. "Are you sure you don't want me to work Friday?""Positive."Elaine looked worried now, her wide green eyes watchful. "You and Toby have somewhere to go for Thanksgiving, don't you? I mean, you're not going to sit here and brood or anything, are you?"Holly felt a tender sort of exasperation. "We're spending the day with Skyler's parents, worrywart. Hie thyself home, before that husband of yours tries to stuff the gobbler on his own. Remember last year? He cut himself on the giblets."Elaine laughed. "Roy means well," she said, taking her coat from the antique wall rack beside the back door. Shrugging into it, she tossed her glossy brown hair back over her shoulders. "How was he to know that a partially frozen turkey neck can be lethal?""How indeed?" Holly chuckled, wondering why she felt so sad. Skyler's parents were nice people; she and Toby would both have a good time at their house."Happy, happy," Elaine sang, opening the door to leave and letting in a rush of frigid November air. "See you Monday.""Monday," Holly confirmed, smiling hard. But when her friend was gone, she sat down on the long bench beside the trestle table and sighed.Just then Toby scrambled in from the other ...
Views: 11

Just Kate: His Only Wife (Bestselling Author Collection)

The Only One Ever since Kate Blake’s sister died in a car accident, it’s been just her. Just Kate to keep her family together. Just Kate to live up to her senator father’s expectations and her mother’s idea of perfection. But now, after a painful betrayal by those she loves, she decides it’s time to live for herself and claim what she wants. And what she wants is Sean Harris. The only man she’s ever loved. And her late sister’s husband. But years have passed since Abby’s accident, and both Sean and Kate feel it’s time to move on. Still, when Kate meets the rugged Australian on his home turf, she is surprised by what she finds with Sean—a sense of home and belonging that she’s never known. And the one person who loves her for nothing else except being…just Kate.
Views: 11

Escape from Cabriz

On the eve of her wedding to the Crown Prince of Cabriz, Kristin Meyers is having more than prewedding jitters--her childhood friend Jascha has become a cold, distant stranger. And when his palace comes under attack from angry rebels, Kristin is caught in the cross fire.Then Zach Harmon arrives and everything changes. The ex-secret service agent and Kristin had been lovers--until circumstances tore them apart. Now Zach might be able to get her out of Cabriz alive, but who will save her heart from being broken by Zach one more time?Look for more captivating titles from #1 New York Times bestselling author Linda Lael Miller! Big Sky River is available now from Harlequin HQN. And don't miss The Man from Stone Creek!
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Bridget

They are the women of Primrose Creek, and their strength and passion is a match for the Nevada frontier they call home. Linda Lael Miller masterfully captures the hardships and dangers of a country swept by the winds of war -- and the daring and determination, the hopes and dreams of four unforgettable women -- in a thrilling new series. When Bridget McQuarry comes to settle in Primrose Creek, she has nothing to lose; her husband, Mitch, was killed in the Civil War, and she has lost her family farm to ruinous Reconstruction taxes. With her baby son and a sister to care for, Bridget vows to make a new start out West. But when Mitch's best friend reappears in her life, he sparks a forbidden passion she thought was forever buried. Trace Qualtrough grew up with Bridget and Mitch -- three happy childhood friends. But the attraction that fluttered between him and Bridget was silenced when she married Mitch. Now, Trace has come to fulfill Mitch's final wish -- to watch over...
Views: 9

A McKettrick Christmas

Lizzie McKettrick is coming home for Christmas. And Indian Rock's new schoolteacher has a surprise in store for her family--a special young man, Whitley Carson. He might seem a little too interested in the McKettrick money, but Lizzie's certain Whitley cares for her deep down.Yet fate has a surprise of its own for Lizzie: Dr. Morgan Shane. When their homebound train is halted by a massive avalanche, injuring and stranding its passengers, the handsome doctor takes charge--with Lizzie by his side.Despite their growing bond, Lizzie and Morgan know time is running out. With another avalanche looming and the train's food supply dwindling, it's going to be a bleak Christmas Eve. But with faith, hard work and a little extra help from a most unexpected source, they just might find their way home to celebrate a McKettrick family Christmas after all....
Views: 8

The Creed Legacy

Product DescriptionRough-and-tumble rodeo cowboy Brody Creed likes life on the move. Until a chance encounter with his long-estranged twin brother brings him "home" for the first time in years. Suddenly Brody is in Creed territory—at thirty-three, he[HTML_REMOVED]s a restless bad boy among family with deep ties to the land and each other. And a secret past haunts him as he tries to make plans for his future.Carolyn Simmons is looking for Mr. Right in Lonesome Bend, as the ticktock of her biological clock gets ever louder. Then she falls for gorgeous Brody Creed, the opposite of everything she wants. Until lassoing his wild heart becomes everything both of them need. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.Lonesome Bend, ColoradoRanching, Brody Creed thought, shifting in the saddle as he surveyed the sprawling range land from a high ridge. It can mend a broken heart, this life, and then shatter it all over again, in a million and one different ways and twice that many pieces.There were plenty of perils. Cattle starved or froze to death when a hard winter came around, which averaged once a year up there in the high country. Spring calves and colts fell prey to wolves and coyotes and sometimes bears, hungry after hibernating through the coldest months.It was now May, and all was well, but come summertime, wells might dry up for lack of rain, and turn the grass to tinder, ready to blaze up at the smallest spark. He[HTML_REMOVED]d seen wildfires consume hundreds of acres in a matter of hours, herds and houses and barns wiped out.Year round, good horses went lame and pickup trucks gave up the ghost, and every so often, somebody drowned in the river or one of the lakes.On the other hand, Brody reflected, the beauty of that land could heal, take a man by surprise, even though he[HTML_REMOVED]d called the place home all his life. That day, for instance, the sky was so blue it made Brody[HTML_REMOVED]s heart ache, and the aspens, cottonwoods and pines lining the landscape were shimmering splashes of green, a thousand hues of it, ranging from silvery to near-indigo. The river wound like a ribbon through the valley, clear as azure glass.After a few moments, Brody adjusted his hat and sighed before giving the gelding a light nudge with the heels of his boots. The buckskin, long-legged with a black mane and tail, picked his way cautiously down the steep slope that led to the water[HTML_REMOVED]s edge.Behind them and a hundred yards farther along the riverbank, in a westerly direction, hammers clacked and power saws screeched, and Brody glanced back, pleased, as always, to see the steel-and-lumber skeletons of his house and barn rising.Not so long ago, there had been a campground and RV park on the site, owned by Tricia McCall, now his sister-in-law and therefore a Creed. The picnic tables and the concrete fire pits were gone, along with the public showers and electrical hookups for trailers. Only the log building that had once served as the office remained; Brody had been baching in it since last Thanksgiving, when he[HTML_REMOVED]d moved out of the main ranch house.The peace between him and twin brother, Conner, could be a fragile one at times, and they both benefited by a little distance.Now, ready to get moving, Brody clucked his tongue and gave the gelding, Moonshine, another tap with his heels."Come on, now," he told the buckskin, his tone reasonable. "The water[HTML_REMOVED]s shallow here, and it[HTML_REMOVED]s real calm. If we[HTML_REMOVED]re going to be working livestock on both sides of this river, then you[HTML_REMOVED]ve got to learn how to cross it."Moonshine, recently acquired at an auction in Denver, was young, and Brody hadn[HTML_REMOVED]t had a chance to train him in the ways of a cow pony.No time like the present, he figured.Brody was about to get down out of the saddle and lead the horse into the water, which lapped gently at the stony shore that used to be a swimming beach, back when the River[HTML_REMOVED]s Bend Campground was a going concern, when Moonshine suddenly decided he was willing to get wet after all.He plunged into the water, up to his chest, making a mighty splash in the process. Brody, gripping the barrel of that horse hard between his knees, just to stay in the saddle, laughed out loud before giving a whoop of pure delight.His boots filled, and within moments his jeans were soaked to the tops of his thighs, but he didn[HTML_REMOVED]t care. Moonshine swam that river like he had Olympic aspirations, his powerful legs pumping, his head high and his ears pricked up."Good boy," Brody told the horse, with gruff appreciation. "You[HTML_REMOVED]re doing just fine."Reaching the other side, Moonshine bunched his haunches for the effort and bunny-hopped up the steepest part of the bank, water pouring off him in sheets. Once he[HTML_REMOVED]d gained level ground, the animal shook himself like a dog and Brody laughed again, for no other reason than that life was good.He was home.And, for the most part, he was happy to be there. Drenched, he got down from the saddle to pull off his boots, empty them and yank them back on over his sodden socks. When he got to the main house, he[HTML_REMOVED]d swap his wet duds for dry ones from Conner[HTML_REMOVED]s closet.Having an identical twin brother had its advantages, and one of them was access to a whole other wardrobe.There[HTML_REMOVED]d been a time when Conner would have groused about Brody[HTML_REMOVED]s tendency to borrow his stuff, but last New Year[HTML_REMOVED]s Eve, Brody[HTML_REMOVED]s "little brother," born a couple of minutes after he was, had taken a wife. Conner was happy with Tricia, and these days it took more than a missing shirt or pair of jeans to get under his hide.They were on a perpetual honeymoon, Conner and Tricia, and now, with a baby due in three months, they glowed, the both of them, as if they were lit from within.Brody mounted up again and reined Moonshine toward the home-place, feeling a mixture of things as he considered his twin[HTML_REMOVED]s good fortune.Sure, he was glad things were working out so well for Conner, but he was a little envious, too.Not that he[HTML_REMOVED]d have admitted it to anybody.Tricia was beautiful, smart and funny, and she[HTML_REMOVED]d taken to ranch life with surprising ease, for a city girl. Essentially a greenhorn, she[HTML_REMOVED]d gone horseback riding almost every day since the wedding, when the weather allowed, anyway—until her pregnancy was confirmed. Then Conner had put a stop to the pursuit.No more trail rides until after the baby[HTML_REMOVED]s arrival.Period, end of discussion.Brody grinned, recalling how adamant his brother had been. For the most part, the marriage appeared to be an equal partnership, but this time, Conner had laid down the law. And Tricia, normally the independent type, had capitulated.That was just common sense, to Brody[HTML_REMOVED]s mind, though a lot of country women continued to ride when they were expecting a baby, herding cattle, rounding up strays, checking fence lines. Conner[HTML_REMOVED]s strong opposition was a no-brainer—Rachel Creed, Conner and Brody[HTML_REMOVED]s mother, had continued to enter barrel-racing events long after she learned she was carrying twins. There hadn[HTML_REMOVED]t been a specific incident, but soon after giving birth to Brody and Conner, Rachel[HTML_REMOVED]s health had begun to go downhill.She[HTML_REMOVED]d died when her infant sons were less than a month old.Blue Creed, their father, hadn[HTML_REMOVED]t lasted much longer. Overwhelmed by the responsibility, he[HTML_REMOVED]d brought the babies home to the ranch, right around their first birthday, and handed them over to his brother, Davis, and Davis[HTML_REMOVED]s wife, Kim. Soon afterward, Blue himself had been thrown from a horse and broken his neck. He[HTML_REMOVED]d been in a coma for six weeks, and then died.Now, crossing the range between the river and the two-story house Conner and Tricia had been sharing since they got hitched, the grass rippling around him like a green sea, Brody did his best to ignore the clammy chill of wet denim clinging to his legs—and the old, deep-seated sorrow rooted in his soul. He did take some consolation from seeing the cattle grazing all around, most of them Herefords, with a few Black Anguses to break the red-brown monotony. Two dozen broncos, specially bred for the rodeo, and six Brahma bulls completed the menagerie.Clint and Juan and a couple of the other ranch hands wove in and out among the different critters on horseback, mainly keeping the peace. Brody touched his hat-brim to the other men as he passed, and those who were looking his way returned the favor.By then, Moonshine was restless, trying to work the bit between his teeth, so Brody gave him his head. That cayuse might be skittish when it came to crossing rivers, but he sure did like to run.Brody bent low over the buckskin[HTML_REMOVED]s neck, holding his hat in place with one hand and keeping a loose grip on the reins with the other.And that horse ate up ground like a jet taxiing along a runway before takeoff.Brody was enjoying the ride so much that the corral fence sprang up in front of them as suddenly as a line of magic beanstalks.Moonshine soared over that top rail as if he[HTML_REMOVED]d sprouted wings, practically stretched out flat, and came in for a magnificent landing about one foot short of the place where Conner stood, looking like he[HTML_REMOVED]d had rusty nails for breakfast instead of bacon and eggs.Brody gazed down into a face so like his own that the sight of it even took him aback sometimes, and he was used to being pretty much an exact duplicate of his brother.Conner was scowling up at him, through swirls of settling dust, and he looked as though he[HTML_REMOVED]d like to grab hold of Brody, haul him off that horse and beat the holy bejesus out of him. So much for personality improvements resulting from wedded bliss!"Oops," Brody said cheerfully, because he knew that would piss off Conner and he still enjoyed doing that now and again, even though they[HTML_REMOVED]d been getting along well for a respectable length of time. "Sorry."He swung down and faced Conner, who was taut with annoyance, his shoulders squared, his fists clenched and his attitude contentious."Damn it, Brody," he growled, "am I having one of my invisible days, or are you going blind? You darn near ran me down, and it[HTML_REMOVED]ll take me the better part of the morning to get this mare calm enough to work with again!"Prior to the leap, Brody hadn[HTML_REMOVED]t noticed his brother or the pinto mare, now nickering and tossing her head over on the far side of the corral, but he didn[HTML_REMOVED]t think it would be smart to say as much. Instead, he decided to come from a place of helpfulness."You starting horses yourself these days, instead of letting one of the wranglers do it?" he asked, bending to pick up the lightweight saddle the mare must have tossed when he and Moonshine came over the fence.Conner grabbed the saddle and jerked it ou...
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Austin

World champion rodeo star Austin McKettrick finally got bested by an angry bull. His career over, his love life a mess, the lone maverick has nowhere to go when the hospital releases him. Except back home to Blue River and the Silver Spur ranch. But his overachieving brothers won't allow this cowboy to brood in peace. They've even hired a nurse to speed his recovery. Paige Remington's bossy brand of TLC is driving him crazy. As is her beautiful face, sexy figure and silky black hair. Paige has lost count of how many times Austin has tried to fire her. She's not going anywhere till he's healed--body and heart. And by then her place in his life just might become permanent...
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Creed's Honor

Conner Creed knows exactly who he is: a hardworking rancher carrying on his uncle's legacy in Lonesome Bend, Colorado. Maybe a small-town cowboy's life isn't his dream, but he owes the man who took him in as a kid. Until the identical twin brother he's been estranged from for years reenters his life.Conner struggles with identity issues as he gets to know his wilder brother. And then he meets Tricia McCall, a beautiful woman who knows a thing or two about living someone else's dreams. Together, they just might find their own dreams right here in Lonesome Bend....
Views: 7