NEW RELEASE FROM CHAMPAGNE BOOK GROUP!
A prim, naïve preacher's daughter tasked with getting a handsome,
persuasive train robber healthy enough to hang. What could possibly go wrong?
How about a western romance with plenty of action, great characters, and a complicated plot? I'm so happy to be able to announce the release of such a book by Terri Benson.
When his true identity becomes known and she has the opportunity for true love, her own past comes back to haunt her. It takes a deadly disaster to bring them together, only to have their plans spiked by a conniving woman intent on claiming Demon for her own, no matter the method.
But Demons are fierce creatures and he risks it all to win
Angelique back. Just when they think they have their happily ever after, a more
violent, and persistent, threat comes between them.
Terri Benson has written a western romance that is sure to please. Get your copy today!
This man, this accused
murderer—his face was the sort her dreams conjured. Perfectly proportioned. A
faint puckered scar ran down the left side of his chin and another, crescent-shaped,
was adjacent to his right eye. Rather than detracting, the slight imperfections
reinforced his masculinity. A knight
who’d fought a dragon to save his ladylove might have such scars. His hair,
thick and lustrous, curled into a large comma-shape which dangled against his
forehead.
She wished she
could see his eyes. “Are they green? Perhaps blue? Would you look at me with
longing like the handsome prince who rescues me each night? Would you want to
run your hands over my…?” She clasped both hands over her mouth, mortified to
find herself speaking of such things, even if he couldn’t hear her.
Forcing herself
to focus on the task at hand, she fetched another basin of hot water and set
about cleaning his lower body. She moved as quickly as possible, thankful the
majority of blood had oozed down his hip and outside thigh to his knee allowing
her to avoid his groin area. She used a torn piece of sheet to cover him, but
her eyes kept straying to the spot as she smoothed the washcloth down his legs.
Wondering. Imagining.
After wringing
the last of the pink-tinged water from the cloth, Angelique stood at the foot
of the bed and inspected the man. She noted several more scars, large and small,
on his long, muscular legs. When her perusal reached the modest piece of white
cloth, she made a conscious effort to address the bedding. She stripped off the
blood-and-dirt-stained sheets, replacing them with clean, crisp linens smelling
of sunshine and sage. The process took time as she heaved his unconscious body
around as gently as possible.
After tucking in the last corner, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief and pulled the sheet up to his chin. She peered at his tranquil, handsome face, struggling to equate it to the face of a murderer. The man was not some noble knight. Not a highborn prince. Just a criminal soon to meet his maker, if the sheriff got his way.
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