I've been fascinated with the Victorian and Edwardian eras, as well as the Old West as long as I can remember.
Growing up on a farm in Eastern 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.
All the crazy exploits I had as a 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.
I joyfully bear the burden of being a 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.
Everything you never wanted to know 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 romances set in the old west.
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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.
Mortified by her wayward thoughts, she straightened in her chair while Tad smirked at her. “Just what, exactly, are you thinking?”
“Never mind,” she said, handing him the bowl of corn just to have something to do.
Tad shook his head as he took the bowl from her and added a scoop of corn to his plate. “You were thinking something that made you look as guilty as all get out, Posey Jo. You better fess up.”
A warm, molten feeling began in the pit of her stomach. It worked its way out to every extremity at his use of the name only he called her. Even John had never called her Posey Jo.
Something about the way Tad said it, the way his voice seemed to caress 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.
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