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EXCERPTS
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Excerpt
from THEIR SECRET CHILD
Silhouette
Special Edition - May 2008 |
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He stood two strides away, hands shoved in the pockets
of a pair of tan cargo shorts. He’d always been tall,
but today, this moment, thirteen years after, he
loomed over her five-foot-four stature.
“It’s been a long while,” he said when she continued to
stare.
She gathered her scrambled thoughts. “What do you want,
Skip?” Come to gloat?
Imperceptibly, his shoulder lifted. “Just to say hi.”
“And now you have.”
“I’m...um...” He looked around her front yard. His eyes
were still that rich honey color, she noticed. “My
daughter and I moved in across the road today.”
“Yes. Becky met my daughter.”
“I know. That’s why I came over. I wanted to make sure
she didn’t cause trouble.”
So. This visit wasn’t to reacquaint them or introduce
his family to hers. He was here to make sure he wouldn’t
be considered a lousy parent for having an intrusive
daughter.
How like Skip. His name suited him after all. Skipping
town thirteen years ago and now skipping back without a
qualm, without a single concern that he’d nearly killed
her with his brush-off.
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Excerpt
from FIRST TIME VALENTINE
Silhouette
Special Edition - February 2008 |
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He
stood waiting under the mellow porch light.
Oh-my-oh-my, but he was beautifully male. Ten years she
had examined people, living and deceased, and none
appeared as fit and hale and rugged as J.D. standing on
that porch in the semi-darkness of winter. Tall, and
elegantly dressed in black boots and one of those long
black trench coats, J.D. conveyed a blend of polish and
danger.
“Where is your cane?” she asked, coming up the walkway.
“Don’t need it.” He waited until she stood on the bottom
step. “I have you.” And then he smiled.
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Excerpt from RED WOLF'S
RETURN
Silhouette
Special Edition - October 2007 |
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He
turned and walked across the hall, flicked on the light.
“Ethan,” she said as he rounded the small, stark table
marred with dozens of scuffs and scratches and initials.
“I’ll get to the bottom of this.”
“I know you will.”
She leaned in the doorway, her Chief’s badge glinting in
the ruthless lighting. She had something on her mind, he
could see, something that bowed between them, eye to
eye. She remembered days long past when tension between
them was as foreign as a bluebird nesting in winter.
“How’ve you been?” she asked softly, and he saw the
question was genuine and came from a history long past.
“Good. Real good.” Same old mundane response.
Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, he glanced at
the paper in his hand, focusing on his reason for being
here—because if he didn’t, he’d step across the confined
space and haul her into his arms. “Look, I should get
this done.”
She straightened from the doorjamb. “’Course. Just leave
it with Sally when you’re finished. And Ethan? Thanks
again.” With that, she walked across to her office and
closed the door.
He stared at the page. In his chest, his heart hammered.
Well, it was a start, this dialogue between them. The
proverbial ice had been broken. So where did he take it
from here?
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Excerpt from
HIS BROTHER'S GIFT
Silhouette
Special Edition - July 2007 |
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He reached past her,
opened the door. “I’ll walk you home.”
The late afternoon hour had arrived on a cool, crisp
wind. Wishing she’d worn a scarf around her ears,
Savanna slipped her gloved hands into her coat.
Adjusting to the northern climate would take a few
years, she suspected.
A few years.
She would be long gone before then, a vague dream in
Christopher’s mind. She wasn’t fool enough to think
she’d be anything but a foggy memory to Will, either.
The thought had her tucking her chin into her jacket’s
collar.
A few years down the road she’d be on the downhill slope
of forty. Living alone. Lonely.
“Cold?” the man beside her asked.
“Not at all.”
Chuckling, he draped an arm around her shoulders and
pulled her close to his side. “Better?”
Yes, and thank God for the low light. Will this close
rushed heat across her skin. “You do know how to charm
women, Mr. Rubens.”
“Am I charming you, Ms. Stowe?”
She released a soft snort. “You wish.”
His chortle rang low and deep above her ear. “Careful,
darlin’. Don’t want that veneer of yours gettin’
transparent.”
At her back gate, he dropped his arm and the wind swept
away his warmth. Seconds later, he trailed her through
the trees to the back door where she paused to say,
“Thank you, Will. It really wasn’t necessary to walk me
home.”
He gusted a breath. “Savanna, let yourself be a woman,
okay?” At her gaped mouth, he strolled back through the
trees—whistling. Young upstart, she thought.
But deep in her belly she quivered. |
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Excerpt from THE MAN
FROM MONTANA
Silhouette
Special Edition - December 2006 |
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Rachel turned onto the last stretch of road and saw a
dark writhing mass a quarter mile in the distance. Soon,
the mass became a herd of Black Angus flanked by a pair
of horses with riders: a man wearing a quilted navy coat
and a deep brown Stetson, and a young woman bundled in a
red parka and wool hat.
The man sat astride a
mammoth horse the color of dense fog. Ash McKee. Big and
commanding as the far-reaching, pristine landscape on
which he lived.
Rachel rolled down the
window of her car. “Excuse me,” she called.
He whistled between his
teeth at one of his dogs.
“Excuse me,” she called again.
“Mr. McKee? Could I get by?”
Cold dark eyes turned her
way. “Can you wait? We’re a hundred yards from the
pasture gate.”
Yes, she could wait. If
he’d ask nicely.
“I’m looking for Tom McKee,”
she said to the broad rump and ground-reaching charcoal
tail of his horse. “Would you know if he’s home?”
The man reined the beast
around on its hind legs, its tail swinging like a banner
on a battle field. Two leaps and the animal danced
beside her vehicle.
“Who wants to know?”
McKee demanded.
He was cowboy
through and through, down to the scuffed, worn brown
boots he wore. She shivered. A modern-day Clint Eastwood
in Pale Rider. All he needed was the six-shooter. |
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Excerpt from TWICE HER HUSBAND
Silhouette
Special Edition - May 2006 |
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The door to her room hospital opened. A bouquet
entered–-an immense fireworks of deep-gold sunflowers.
Then the door closed and a face peered around the
ribboned blue vase.
Her
heart jolted. “Luke,” she whispered as if she saw a
phantom instead of the man who had once been her
husband.
“Hey, Ginny. How are you?”
“I’m...” Amazed. Her mouth worked without words.
“What--What are you doing here?”
“Seeing you.” He walked to the window where a high
rolling table stood, and placed his summer bouquet upon
it before scooting the table near her bed.
As he moved about, she stared openly. If possible, his
shoulders had grown broader under the cloth of his
expensive teal shirt, and at his temples silver reeled
into his clipped, pecan-brown hair.
Tucking his hands into the pockets of tailored black
slacks, he looked down at her with the same somber gray
eyes she had fallen in love with at seventeen.
She struggled past the fumble of her brain. “How did you
know I was here?” she managed.
He studied her leg. “I live in Misty River. Have a law
office just down the street from where you...from where
I... Ginny, it was my car.”
That had struck her. That she’d walked into, mindlessly.
They hadn’t told her who, and she hadn’t asked.
She closed her eyes against the grim lines ranking his
mouth. “I’m sorry.”
“No.” His warm hand covered her cool one on the
lightweight blue blanket. “It was my fault. I should’ve
been paying attention.”
A
laugh escaped, short and bitter. She slipped her hand
free, curling it into the palm of its twin. “Okay, so we
agree to disagree. Like always.” |
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Excerpt from EVERYTHING SHE'S EVER WANTED
Silhouette Special Edition - August 2005 |
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“Here.”
She rinsed a clean washcloth under cold water. Holding
Seth’s chin, his strong hard, chin, she dabbed the blood
gently. He had beautiful lips. Categorically male. A
tiny mole lay a finger’s width to the right. At his
throat, shirt parted from button. His neck was brown,
strong, oddly vulnerable. She inhaled deep the night
musk of October and her heart thumped crazily.
His eyes were closed. And then, then, his
straight, compact lashes parted, and she was trapped
under Dakota skies.
Neither breathed.
Hello, her heart said.
Hello, she saw him answer.
She plucked her fingers from his chin as
if burned.
“I’ll finish,” he said gruffly, taking
the tube of ointment from her hands.
“I’ll wait in the mudroom.” She turned to
leave.
“Breena?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve...I’ve never offered to cook for a
woman before. Not since my divorce.”
She released a small breath. “Oh.”
“You’re the first.” His eyes held her.
“Just so you know I wasn’t expecting anything more.”
Sex. He hadn’t been expecting sex.
Should she be surprised? Disappointed? Men wanted
alluring women. Like Melody. Like Lizbeth. “Neither was
I,” she said. |
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Excerpt
from A FATHER, AGAIN
Silhouette Special Edition - 2005 |
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“Why are you weeding
in the dark, Rianne?”
“It soothes me when I feel hemmed in.”
“Something happen at work today? The
kids?”
She looked toward the hedge. Her
shoulder drooped. She shook her head.
He didn’t know why it hurt, but it
did. He wanted her trust. Trust. Belief. Support. Yeah, he wanted
the combo. He wanted to offer comfort. Which would mean touching
more than her hand. Not wise, Jon. Except, wisdom and want
were at a draw and he was all out of referees.
“Come here.” He tugged her forward until
her shoulder leaned into his chest. For her comfort, her told
himself, and wrapped his arms around her. “Shhh. We’re okay,” he
murmured into the crown of her hair. Holding her loosely, waiting
until the tension left by degrees.
He had no right to probe into her life.
No business shouldering her troubles, letting the steel wall he’d
forged around his heart melt, nor letting the high tide of her
emotions sweep him under. No business at all.
So what the hell was he doing with a
woman like Rianne? A woman who tasted of family and forever? |
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Excerpt
from A FOREVER FAMILY
Silhouette Special Edition - 2004 |
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He caught her arm. Humor
gone, his face hovered inches from hers. His grip while
firm, felt oddly safe and protective. “Don’t you realize
those dogs could have attacked you?”
“Not ‘til later.” He had worried. About
her. The zing dove straight through her heart.
“Idiot girl. It would’ve been too late
then.” He shook her lightly.
“I’ve never missed a shot yet.”
“God.” He threw back his head on an
explosion of air. “Have you any idea what you do to me?”
Reality settled back. “I do to
you? Excuse me, but I don’t
do anything to you. I stay away from you. As much as
possible. You’re the one who continually seeks me out.”
“And why do you suppose that is?”
“I haven’t a clue.” But she did. Oh, how
she did.
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Excerpts, Covers, Imprints and Series:
Silhouette Special Edition
Copyright ©: 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008
By: Mary J. Forbes
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher.
The editions published by arrangement with
Harlequin Books
S.A.
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