*THE
LOVE LETTER By Linda Broday
ISBN: 1-4201-0103-X Available now from
Kensington Publishing.
When
you need a real man…Give Me A Texan!
Roots that go deep. Men who
stand tall. And real women who
have what it takes to love and
be loved by them.
Jodi Thomas, New York Times
and USA Today bestselling
author, teams up with Linda
Broday, Phyliss Miranda and
DeWanna Pace to bring you four
of the best Texas romances ever
in this all-new anthology!
(Formerly titled Amarillo By
Morning)
Hank Harris wasn’t even looking
for a woman when he ended up
with a wife. Their hasty
marriage is for appearances
only: a capable, intelligent
woman like Aggie is exactly who
he needs as a business partner.
But--speaking of appearances--if
only she weren’t so damn
beautiful. And spirited. And in
his bed...
*Payton
McCord thought he was one tough
cowboy --
until Amanda Lemmons made him mind his
manners. But a woman
of her caliber is
worth the trouble she causes…
Newspaperman Quinten Corbett
wasn’t expecting his new apprentice to be
female. Boston-born Kaira Renaulde is far
too refined for a rough-and-tumble frontier
town—and far too pretty for his peace of
mind…
Briar Duncan knows he needs someone to help
him raise his headstrong little daughter.
But Mina McCoy is more than he bargained
for—much more! The woman has the face of an
angel and a very definite mind of her own…
"Four ladies
who know what it means to be a Texan, create
a quartet of memorable novellas that bring
the great state straight into your heart.
The three-dimensional characters and
unforgettable heroes, combined with splendid
stories, are unmatched for fans of the Old
West."
--
**** 4 Stars,
Romantic Times!
"All four of these authors have
provided a story that is uplifting, aspirational and unabashedly
romantic. They clearly know the character of the men who settled
Texas and the women who tamed them. The only thing missing is more
-- stories and men."
-- ***** Five Spurs,
Love Western Romances.
McCord untangled
his long legs and sprang to his feet. “Let’s
hash this out over coffee? Or tea. I feel
obliged to help a pretty damsel in
distress.”
“How can I refuse a . . . true gentleman?”
“You can’t.”
Amanda accepted his elbow. Heads turned when
they entered the dining room and for once
she couldn’t tell if they stared at her, the
mutton woman, or the devilishly handsome
wrangler. He pulled out her chair and waited
until she sat down before taking a seat.
Tiny details caught her notice - the quiver
that rippled through muscles in his arm when
she brushed it, the solid feel of his tall
frame, and the genuine warmth enfolding her
that chased away the ever present chill in
her veins for a moment.
Hmmmmm . . . despite apprehension, she could
do far worse than having refreshment with a
cowboy. Not just any though. Payton seemed
special. Besides, should he turn out to be
the author of the love letters, and if he
had written them for the purpose of making
her a bigger laughingstock, her plot would
succeed. Everyone would see him keeping
company with a lowly sheepherder. Nothing
else would ruin a staunch cattleman’s
reputation faster.
But if he had and the declaration of love
was genuine?
Somehow her vision didn’t seem as clear now.
Strange that he hadn’t mentioned the love
letters once or shown an inclination he knew
her. She could’ve jumped to the wrong
conclusion from the outset. Damaging someone
like Payton seemed wrong, particularly if he
penned the words from deep inside. It might
do more than leave his reputation in
shambles. Picking up pieces of a heart . . .
that was something in which she was well
versed. She steeled herself against the pain
and clenched her jaw. Reality was a harsh
taskmaster. Better she let the chips fall.
Payton McCord had to be the one. He was the
best candidate out of the gathering in the
lobby. Then there was the matter with the
initials. Yes, McCord was the Lothario all
right. And she had to protect herself. Time
to get at the truth.
With the valise at her feet and napkin in
her lap, she met Payton’s reserved perusal
and tilted forward. His gaze meandered to
the rounded tops of her bosom where he
lingered for a long second. His Adam’s apple
bobbed when he swallowed.
She let her fingertips rest on his gloved
hand. “Mr. McCord, thank you so much for
taking pity on me.”
“Payton . . . I insist. I’m not one for
formality.” Lines around the corners of his
mouth and an interesting cleft in his chin
deepened with his grin.
No, he was more for trying to run her off
her land and back to New Mexico. Memories of
Santa Fe, distasteful and hideous, lodged in
the hole in her chest.
