Kathryn Albright grew up in southern California where she sets many of her sweet western romances. A Golden Heart finalist and recipient of the HOLT Medallion Award of Merit, she writes historical romance that celebrates courage and hope against all odds with a dash of adventure.
Her enjoyment of historical romantic fiction began as a teenager when she was given the novel Ramona ~ set in southern California after the Mexican-American War. A few thousand books later, she still enjoys reading romance set in the past. (She also loves fairy tales and all things Disney.)
Kathryn's past includes careers as a nurse and an obstetrical sonographer where daily she witnessed many "happy ever afters" and miracles.
Kathryn's latest western historical romances for Harlequin are "sweet" although her earlier stories were not. Please check her website if you are wondering what brought on the change ~ Why Sweet?
Along with her writing, Kathryn also judges for the Romance Writers of America Rita contest for published writers and the Wisconsin Romance Writers FabFive contest for unpublished writers.
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Gloria Palmer has always done the proper thing expected of her as the daughter of a shipping tycoon. The approval of her family and friends mean everything. And yet, when the perfect suitor offers for her… she hesitates.
Colin McDougal has little use for those living on the fancy side of the trolley tracks. He is too busy managing the family pub and, in his spare time, writing down the lively tunes in his head. So, when Miss Palmer asks for his help to prepare for a music audition, he is flummoxed. What does he know of highbrow music?
But with each practice session, their feelings for each other grow. When it comes time for Gloria to make a choice between what is proper and what she desires, will she realize that if music can cross class lines, it might also be able to harmonize two hearts.
George’s voice penetrated her thoughts.
His dark eyes held a glint of amusement. “You dropped your reticule. Was it on purpose?” he chided as though talking to a child. He picked up her property, brushed off a trace of mud from the snow and soot tracked in on the plank flooring, and then handed it back to her. “Are you testing me?”
She looped the drawstrings of the bag over her wrist and refrained from answering. He was only teasing her. It hadn’t been on purpose at all. And not a test. Of course, George would pick it up. She had no doubt as to his attentiveness or chivalry toward her. He never dropped things, never faltered. He made her feel at once treasured like a princess and wanting like a child in the same moment.
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