Synopsis:
The Wyoming men are back! In their quest for true love on the range, are these ranchers bold enough to open their hearts to the women under their protection?
Ren Colter may own an enormous ranch in Wyoming, but he scorns his wealth. He’s closed himself off since his fiancée left him years ago, so he’s shocked when he allows Meredith Grayling to stay with him. He tells himself it’s only to protect the blonde beauty from a stalker, but Ren’s alpha instincts soon kick in.
The last thing Merrie wants is a devastatingly handsome man like Ren lurking around her. He’s too experienced, too appealing for her already shot nerves. What she needs is just to get away from it all: the man haunting her waking dreams and the one hunting her like an animal. But no woman escapes this Colter cowboy!
Excerpt:
Delsey showed Merrie to her room. “I’ll have one of the boys bring your luggage up. It’s still sitting in the hall where Randall left it.” She paused. “Don’t let Ren upset you,” she added gently. “He’s hard on people he doesn’t know. Especially women. He had a bad experience. It’s made him cold.”
“I won’t bother him,” Merrie promised. “I brought my sketchbooks and my knitting. I’ll keep busy.”
“Good. If you need anything, I’m usually in the kitchen or somewhere in the house. There are helpers who come on certain days to help me with the heavy stuff. I’m feeling my age a little, but Ren likes the way I cook,” she said with a laugh.
Merrie drew in a long breath. “Our housekeeper, Mandy, taught me to cook. She even taught me how to cut up a chicken and field dress game.” She laughed softly. “I love being in the kitchen, too.”
“I’ll let you help, after you’ve been here a bit.” Her wise dark eyes searched Merrie’s. “It’s a stalker, isn’t it? Randall told me.”
Merrie hesitated. “I don’t want to put anyone in harm’s way…”
“Ren has this place protected like it was Fort Knox,” Delsey told her. “Nobody gets in here without security clearance. Did you notice the cameras at the front gate when you came in?” Merrie nodded. She continued. “We even have facial recognition software. It tracks people.”
“Wow,” Merrie said softly.
“Sadly, it didn’t work on the cowboy who beat that poor horse.” She winced. “Hurricane was the sweetest gelding on the place. It breaks my heart to see what that man did to him.” She drew in a breath. “If he keeps this up, they’ll have to put him down.” She bit her lip, then forced a smile. “Well, I’ll leave you to unpack.” She looked out the door and peered over the banister. “Brady!” she called. “Can you bring those bags up here?”
“Sure thing, Miss Delsey,” the cowboy said with a long drawl.
He brought the bags up the staircase to Merrie’s room.
“Thanks,” she said softly, with a smile.
Brady tipped his hat. He was Delsey’s age, but was wiry and tough and apparently very strong. He grinned at Merrie. “You Mr. Randall’s friend that come to stay awhile?” he asked.
“Yes, I am. I’m Merrie. Nice to meet you, Brady.”
“Nice to meet you, too, miss.” He turned to Delsey.
“Willis wants to know if you’ll make the men a cake.”
“I will,” Delsey replied. “What kind do they want?”
“Chocolate, with that white frosting you make.”
“I’ll start on it right now.” She turned to Merrie. “Have you had lunch?”
“Yes, thanks,” Merrie told her. “Randall got me a cheeseburger and fries on the way here.”
“Okay, then. Supper’s at seven. Ren keeps late hours. Sometimes he doesn’t even show up for supper. Like tonight. He told me to leave cold cuts in the fridge, which means he probably won’t get home until bedtime.”
“Ranching is hard on schedules,” Brady said with a chuckle. “Especially for boss man. He has to be everywhere before the bad weather coming.”
“I called that contractor,” Delsey added to Brady. “If you see Ren, tell him the man’s coming tomorrow morning to see what work needs doing.”
“I’ll tell him.” He tipped his hat again. “See you girls later.”
Merrie grinned. Delsey just laughed.
“He’s nice,” Merrie said.
“They mostly are. But we have a few who work security here,” she added solemnly. “One of them is dangerous. He came to us from Iraq, where he’d been training policemen. We don’t know much about him. He keeps to himself most of the time when he’s not watching the livestock.”
“Who is he?” Merrie asked curiously.
“They call him J.C. Nobody knows what the initials stand for.”
“I’ll stay out of his way,” Merrie promised. She stretched. The gold chain around her neck chafed a little. She pulled out the pretty filigree gold cross she wore and dangled it on her sweatshirt.
Delsey grimaced. She wanted to warn the girl, but she didn’t want to make her more nervous than she already was. Ren wouldn’t like that cross. It would prod him, like waving a flag at a bull. But maybe he wouldn’t see it.
She smiled at Merrie and left her alone to unpack.
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About the author:
Diana Palmer is a pseudonym for author Susan Kyle.
(1)romance author
Susan Eloise Spaeth was born on 11 December 1946 in Cuthbert, Georgia, USA. She was the eldest daughter of Maggie Eloise Cliatt, a nurse and also journalist, and William Olin Spaeth, a college professor. Her mother was part of the women’s liberation movement many years before it became fashionable. Her best friends are her mother and her sister, Dannis Spaeth (Cole), who now has two daughters, Amanda Belle Hofstetter and Maggie and lives in Utah. Susan grew up reading Zane Grey and fell in love with cowboys. Susan is a former newspaper reporter, with sixteen years experience on both daily and weekly newspapers. Since 1972, she has been married to James Kyle and have since settled down in Cornelia, Georgia, where she started to write romance novels. Susan and her husband have one son, Blayne Edward, born in 1980.
She began selling romances in 1979 as Diana Palmer. She also used the pseudonyms Diana Blayne and Katy Currie, and her married name: Susan Kyle. Now, she has over 40 million copies of her books in print, which have been translated and published around the world. She is listed in numerous publications, including Contemporary Authors by Gale Research, Inc., Twentieth Century Romance and Historical Writers by St. James Press, The Writers Directory by St. James Press, the International Who’s Who of Authors and Writers by Meirose Press, Ltd., and Love’s Leading Ladies by Kathryn Falk. Her awards include seven Waldenbooks national sales awards, four B. Dalton national sales awards, two Bookrak national sales awards, a Lifetime Achievement Award for series storytelling from Romantic Times, several Affaire de Coeur awards, and two regional RWA awards.
Inspired by her husband, who quit a blue-collar manufacturing job to return to school and get his diploma in computer programming, Susan herself went back to college as a day student at the age of 45. In 1995, she graduated summa cum laude from Piedmont College, Demorest, GA, with a major in history and a double minor in archaeology and Spanish. She was named to two honor societies (the Torch Club and Alpha Chi), and was named to the National Dean’s List. In addition to her writing projects, she is currently working on her master’s degree in history at California State University. She hopes to specialize in Native American studies. She is a member of the Native American Rights Fund, the American Museum of Natural History, the National Cattlemen’s Association, the Archaeological Institute of Amenca, the Planetary Society, The Georgia Conservancy, the Georgia Sheriff’s Association, and numerous conservation and charitable organizations. Her hobbies include gardening, archaeology, anthropology, iguanas, astronomy and music.
In 1998, her husband retired from his own computer business and now pursues skeet shooting medals in local, state, national and international competition. They love riding around and looking at the countryside, watching sci-fi on TV and at the movies, just talking and eating out.
From New York Times bestselling author, Penelope Ward, comes a sexy, STANDALONE second-chance romance.
About Kristen Ashley:
A.L. Jackson is the New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance. She writes emotional, sexy, heart-filled stories about boys who usually like to be a little bit bad.
