Wednesday, September 30, 2015


Available Now on Kindle and KU
 Catherine's Cowboy

About Catherine's Cowboy
On the run from her vicious Kiowa husband, Catherine seeks shelter from a raging dust storm when labor begins. Fate steps in when a retired army tracker also seeks refuge from the elements and stumbles upon the same ramshackle dwelling.

Elam helps Catherine deliver her child and a strong bond forms between them. But outside, biding his time until the squall passes someone longs to claim both of their lives and take what is rightfully his…the child.

Wolf-dog emitted a guttural growl and Tapco’s spine curdled with fear. How had the heathens found her so soon? Poor beast would be killed first...before they descended on her. In her condition, she could do nothing to prevent the creature’s demise, much less thank him for leading her through the dust storm to this temporary sanctuary. While the phantom of death circled her head, she pulled the knife from her knee-high moccasin and focused on the one thing that mattered, the cause of her horrendous pain and the only reason to stay alive for now. 

The dog rose to a squat, shoulders down, rump high in the air and his long, white fangs bared for attack.  He would take down one and she would the steal the breath from another before....

The door flew open. Underneath the frame stood a tall, dark form, his leather duster open and hugging a pair of high, black boots. Saddlebags rode his left shoulder, and a shotgun that could blow both her and Wolf-dog to smithereens rested against his right. A revolver was cradled in a leather scabbard across his chest, and the haft of a Bowie knife extended beyond the top of the black boot on his right leg. Her weak limbs trembled with ironic relief. At least he wasn’t wearing leggings and a breechclout.  Gomda hadn’t found her, but the vision of hell and damnation devouring the door frame had. A thatch of burnished, chestnut hair framed a pair of brown eyes, eyes so dark, they were almost black. With a wary look in his eyes, his body primed for danger, he scanned the dim corners of the cabin.   

Wolf-dog snarled, waiting for her command. 
“Haun-Nay,” she rasped. “No.”
She couldn’t take the chance the man would kill the dog before she could kill him, not after the beast had saved her.  She’d wait until he hovered near, near enough to slash his jugular before he sensed peril. She didn’t have to wait long.  
Danger rode the angles of his lean face as he advanced. “Are you alone here?” 

She brought the knife up and stabbed at the vacant air.  

His hands came out at his sides, palms up. “I won’t harm you. Besides, that mangy hound would rip my guts out before I could spit in your direction.” A faint smile curled one corner of his lip. “Looks like you could use some help. Please, put the knife down before you pass out and fall on it.” 

Panting through another spasm, she slithered down the post, grinding out the words, “Stay back.” Seconds ago, she had fantasies of severing his neck; now she was too broken to try. 
He dropped to his haunches before her and set the rifle on the ground. “If you were to guess, how long before that baby comes?”



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