Jack Canon's American Destiny

Broken Pieces

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Promised Land: A Galatia Novel (The Galatia Series) by C. D. Verhoff #Fantasy #SciFi

Promised Land: A Galatia Novel is told from multiple view points. All chapters, except those narrated from Michael Penn’s perspective, are told in third person. Michael is the Official Scribe of Galatia. He’s in charge of penning Galatia’s history. Therefore, when he speaks from personal experience, the story is told in first person. Here is an excerpt:
I waited breathlessly, wondering if we were going to war. My brother through adoption, Mayor Red Wakeland the Second, leader of the displaced citizens of Galatia, sat in the center of a large nylon tent reading a scroll by candlelight. The star-shaped birthmark at the corner of his left eye crinkled as the furrows in his brow deepened in concentration. Surrounded by men wearing tunics, armor, swords and fur—he looked like an anachronism in a checkered flannel shirt and blue jeans.
In my sweat pants and frayed T-shirt, United States flag printed across the chest, I looked out of place too, but my thick yellow beard blended with the times. Razors were scarce here and men now had more important things to worry about than a mug full of whiskers.
“Every king, queen and chief in the West has signed this blasted thing,” Red growled. “They’re warning us not to settle anywhere in the Northlands, Midlands or Southlands, which as I understand it, means basically they’re telling us to go the hell away or we’ll be sorry.”
“Unfortunately, you are correct,” said Prince Loyl of the House of the White Rose. Except for the metal breastplate molded with the image of a rose, he was dressed in an unadorned hunter-green tunic, trousers, and suede boots. A circlet of silver served as his crown.
Having several brothers and sisters ahead of him in line for the throne, Prince Loyl was only a minor prince of the Kingdom of Regala D’Nora. He had become a regular sight in our camp. His inquisitive nature, Regalan good looks—complete with feline ears, retractable claws, and a manly face surrounded by a mane of snow-white fur—combined with an affable personality meant that he was well-received by our people, especially the ladies, but he always behaved like a true gentleman.
Our gadgetry and history fascinated the prince and his Regalan archers. Right now he was struggling to pull himself away from a Mario Brothers game on a laptop. He finally powered it off and gave the discussion his complete attention. Red often leaned on the knowledgeable Regalans for advice about a variety of topics, from politics to combat, or basic survival skills.
“In accordance with the Law of First Rights, the members of the Western Alliance are obligated to remove you from these lands in any way they deem necessary, unless you can prove the Galatians were here before them,” Loyl said. “As you know, my father is a powerful member of the alliance, and though he longs for an allied neighbor to help keep the Slivens at bay, the law aims his archers’ bows in your direction.”
“So I’ve been told,” Red said with a frustrated growl. “The only good news is that they’re giving us a year to vacate.”
“Only so you have more time to build up the city they plan to take away,” Prince Loyl said.
Red rose and ordered everyone to leave the tent, but yanked me back by the collar of my T-shirt. “Not you, Mike.” He motioned for Prince Loyl to sit back down too. “I want to bounce a few thoughts off you two. That way we three can sleep on them instead of just me.”
The rest of the men filed out of the tent into the night, letting in a cool breeze perfumed with the woodsy citrus scent of lavender. We leaned back in our collapsible Ohio State stadium chairs, waiting for the mayor to speak his mind. The sound of the camp—adults snoring, babies crying, and a woman singing Brahms’s Lullaby—drifted into the tent. An owl’s lonely hoot carried from the forest half a mile away. Autumn would soon be upon us: the crickets were already singing their funeral dirge, filling the space between each of their chirps with silence, as if they were meditating their upcoming demise. Or was it ours they sensed?
Short Description:  The last survivors of the human race are riding out nuclear winter in an underground bunker when disaster strikes. Forced to the surface centuries ahead of schedule, what they find blows their minds. Who can explain it? Two social misfits work together to unravel the mystery.
Extended Description:  After living in a posh underground shelter his entire life, Lars Steelsun is plunged headfirst into a mind-blowing adventure on the surface of the Earth. As Lars and his displaced bunker mates are led across the grasslands by Mayor Wakeland, a man of questionable sanity who claims to talk with God, they discover a primitive world where human beings are no longer welcome. Even more mystifying is the emergence of new senses and abilities from within. Learning to use them has become a priority, but his biggest challenge comes from the vivacious Josie Albright. Her lust for glory is going to get them both into trouble. Sparks fly when her gung ho ways clash with his cautious personality. Can they overcome their differences to find love and a homeland for their people?
May not be suitable for younger readers. Contains mild profanity, sexual situations (infrequent), and violence. 
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Genre - Epic Fantasy
Rating – R
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Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Eternal Night by Jade Kerrion @JadeKerrion #Paranorml #Fantasy #AmReading

EXCERPT from Eternal Night

Ashra pushed past the blackness at the start of his memories, expecting deeper darkness. Instead, the colors shifted into shades of ochre and gray. Memories, older than his body, resided in his soul; memories of an Earth long since lost to them—a planet surrounded and nourished by water; images of tall buildings glistening beneath a benevolent sun, and of thriving cities filled with the bustle of humans; memories of quiet and intimate conversations beneath a silver moon, the same silver moon that now graced Malum Turris with its light, though a thousand years older and viewed only from beneath the protection of the dome.

She saw herself as he must have seen her, a much-younger icrathari, still hopeful for the future, never realizing that the Earth they had all known and loved was irretrievably lost. Had she ever looked that vulnerable? Had her smile ever been so beautiful, so filled with love as she looked upon—

“Rohkeus?” Oh, blessed Creator, was that stricken whisper her voice?

Ashra pulled back and stared at the human. Her mouth dropped open. Her heart pounded in her chest, its beat erratic. It couldn’t be. It simply couldn’t be—

She looked up at Tera. The other icrathari nodded.

Rohkeus’s soul reborn…in a human.

Ashra threw her head back and laughed, a despairing sound.

Elsker stepped forward. The sole male icrathari was slightly taller than the female icrathari, and dressed in a black silk shirt and linen pants. His silver hair was cropped short, and his light blue eyes were wide. “Rohkeus reborn? That’s impossible.”

Siri shrugged, her red gown shifting around her curvaceous frame. Her silver hair, cut short, framed her face. “Stranger things have happened.” Her pale violet gaze raked over the human. “At least he had the good sense to choose a pretty body.”

Ashra shook her head, the movement jolting her out of her daze. Her prince, her love, reduced to a human? Her slender fingers coiled into fists. Her golden eyes glittering, she pushed away from him, though her body trembled from the loss of his warmth. No, the human was not Rohkeus; he could never be Rohkeus.

Steeling herself against the gasp of pain that escaped from his lips as the anesthetizing effect of her kiss faded, Ashra rose to her feet with sinuous grace. “He is not one of us. Not anymore.” Nothing had been more devastating than losing Rohkeus to a human assassin. To see his soul reborn in that contemptible and weak race was an insult to the person Rohkeus had been.

“Should we turn him into a vampire?” Tera asked.

“Kill him. Set Rohkeus’s soul free.”

Siri seized Ashra’s hand before she could turn away. Siri’s lips, painted the same provocative color as her dress, shaped an O. “You’re not serious. How many people are offered a second chance at the love of a lifetime?”

A second chance? Her traitorous pulse raced even as her lips curled with disgust. “He’s human.”

“We can make him immortal—a vampire.”

Ashra swallowed hard. “But not an icrathari.”

Siri’s gaze fell. “No, of course not.”

“Kill him.”

“You can’t.” Siri stepped forward, placing herself between Ashra and the barely conscious human.

“This is amazing. It’s never happened before—a soul reborn.”

“Rohkeus is dead, and I rule Aeternae Noctis.” She turned to Tera. “I told you to kill him.”
Tera hesitated for a fraction of a second, and then she shook her head. “I won’t do it, and neither will Siri or Elsker. If you want him dead, you’ll have to do it yourself.”

E-books available at Amazon / Amazon UK / Apple / Barnes & Noble / Kobo / Smashwords
Paperbacks available at Amazon / Amazon UK / Barnes & Noble / Book Depository

Jade Kerrion developed a loyal reader base with her fan fiction series based on the MMORPG Guild Wars. She was accused of keeping her readers up at night, distracting them from work, housework, homework, and (far worse), from actually playing Guild Wars. And then she wondered why just screw up the time management skills of gamers? Why not aspire to screw everyone else up too?
So here she is, writing books that aspire to keep you from doing anything else useful with your time.

Her debut novel, Perfection Unleashed, spawned the Double Helix series which has won a total of seven science fiction awards, including first place in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2012 and the gold medal in Readers Favorites Awards 2013. She is also the author of Earth-Sim and When the Silence Ends, which placed first and second respectively in the 2013 Royal Palm Literary Awards, Young Adults category.

She lives in Fort Lauderdale, Florida with her wonderfully supportive husband and her two young sons, Saint and Angel, (no, those aren’t their real names, but they are like saints and angels, except when they’re not.)

Connect with Jade: Website / Facebook / Twitter

Eternal Night ebook

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Genre - Fantasy, Paranormal
Rating – PG-13
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Order of Earth (Elements of Ink) by Jennifer Cornet @J_Cornet

Chapter 2 from Order of Earth 
The brass doors opened behind her bringing with it an unexpected guest.

“I knew you’d come home.”

Onyx’ heart sank hearing him speak in that gentle voice. He always used that voice when he knew he was wrong; when he was trying to make her forgive him. It felt repulsively sweet now.

“She was just leaving,” Jade said in a firm tone as she turned to face him.

“Nicky, you brought a bodyguard with you? That hurts,” he sounded genuinely insulted.

“Goodbye, Philip.” Onyx said softly, suddenly lacking the confidence she just had.

Philip reached out for her arm, but Jade intercepted the action, grabbing him by the wrist and twisting it until he let out an almost inaudible yelp.

“You will not lay a hand on her. Not now, not ever again. If you so much as brush against her in a way I don’t like, I will break every bone in your body, starting with your pinky toe and ending with your skull.” She twisted just a little further.

But he didn’t lose his composure. He looked Onyx dead in the eye, “Quite a lot of bark for your little Chihuahua of a friend here, huh? Nicky, we don’t need all of this. This running away, the muscle, the hiding out, we are better than this. You know I love you more than anything in the world. Just come home, baby. I need you. It’ll be different, I promise. I’ll start going to therapy like you always wanted. You can even hang out with that crayon haired one. No questions asked. Just come home. What do you say? Come on, I need you.”

“Onyx, don’t you listen to him. Put the bags in the elevator, we’re leaving.”

Onyx hesitated, switching her gaze back and forth between the two. He looked so hurt, so broken up, she just wanted to leap into his arms and console him. For a moment, she could feel her heart ripping in her chest; she believed him. She believed he meant he would change and things would be different. She believed it and she hated herself for it.

Onyx rolled her bags into the elevator before she lost her nerve.

“Goodbye, Philip.” She said again.

“If you love her even half as much as you say, you’ll let us leave here. You’ll leave her alone and move on with your life. But keep the therapy bit, you need it.” Jade winked at him before joining Onyx.

As Jade released his wrist, he noticed a small green marking on her arm; a very familiar mark that he knew all too well.

The girls disappeared down to the ground floor, leaving Philip alone in his flower filled living room. He pulled out his phone and hit speed dial.

“She’s with the Order of Earth. Find out what family, find out who their Protector is, and find out now.”

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Genre - Urban Fantasy
Rating – PG – 13
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Saturday, April 5, 2014

#Quotes from TWELVE HOUSES by Olga Soaje (#Contemporary #Women)

You promised you would never leave me. Thirty-five years ago, I looked you directly in the eye and heard, “I will never leave you,” as we stood next to the ocean. And now, like a thief in the night, you go. No last words, no promises, no tears.
May you find joy in every day, forgiveness in every thoughtless action on my part, and know my love in every breath.
To this day it amazes me that unbeknown to most people, that secret self-portrait of my own flawed self not only helped me cope but also allowed me to become whole again.
My heart is racing, and I’m thinking the unthinkable. My daughter, my pregnant daughter, might be having an affair.
I’m not sure if your ready for what I’d like to discuss in you natal chart…
If I allow myself to be pulled into your gravitational force I may lose myself completely.
I felt the need to say “Thank you” At first, he asked me what for, and when I said, “For this moment” he understood that every grateful thank you, I might be saying a slow good-bye.
Can anything good follow the best thing that ever happened to you?
Amelia Weiss loved her husband of thirty-five years very much, but now he’s left her a widow. Without him, she is unable to work in her sculpture studio without crying. She no longer has a bridge to her estranged daughter. And she can’t seem to keep her mind in the present.
But when her daughter reaches out asking for her help and her agent threatens a lawsuit if Amelia doesn’t deliver for an upcoming exhibit, she’s forced to make a choice. Will she reengage with her life and the people in it—allowing room for things to be different than they were before? Or, will she remain stuck in the past, choosing her memories over real-life relationships?
Thrust fully into the present, Amelia stumbles into a surprising journey of self-discovery.
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Genre – Contemporary Fiction, Literary Fiction, Women's Fiction
Rating – PG-13
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Cast in Blood (Morgan Blackstone) by Michelle Rabe @michrabe #Paranormal #Fantasy


SEP 4, 2009

The Assassin’s voice boomed through the closed double doors to the study for the fifth time since he’d entered the room with Morgan’s Blood Sons, almost five hours before.  Marcus cringed as the doors were flung open, and Nicholas strode out, rage radiating from every inch of his six–foot, four–inch frame. Storm–gray eyes landed on Marcus, narrowed to slits, and he stalked past, commanding him to follow with an imperious wave of his right hand. Not wanting to piss the Assassin off more, Marcus bit back a snide comment, and followed him up the sweeping staircase to the mansion’s upper floors.

“Damn it all to hell, Old Man!” Nicholas roared as he began pacing the landing at the top of the stairs. He wanted Marcus to throw himself against his temper to take the edge off.

Ye Gods, Marcus thought, we’ve done this more times than I’d care to count in the centuries we’ve known one another, but this is different. Well, something other than the fact that we’ve barely spoken a civil word to one another in almost two hundred years.

“I take it the boys couldn’t add anything to what we already knew. In spite of the almost five hour interrogation?” Marcus asked, fighting to rein in his own temper, leaning against the banister at the top of the stairs.

“Five hours?” Nicholas stopped moving. He turned to Marcus, meeting his eyes. The other vampire nodded.  “It was really that long?”

“Yes. What’s next, Assassin?” Marcus asked, letting some of the frustration he felt give his voice a hard edge. The last thing they needed right now was for Nicholas to go soft.

“We can’t do anything before the sun sets,” he said, after giving Marcus a long, appraising look.

He’s assessed my well–being and decided I’m not fit for the field. I’ve seen that look too many times before and know better than to argue with him, Marcus thought, trying to work out a logical counter argument.

“I haven’t slept.” Nicholas sighed. “You look like death warmed over and those two are rattled.” He nodded toward the room where he’d left the younger vampires.

“Fine.” Marcus nodded. “I took the liberty of having my staff get us some SUVs. If Morgan’s alive, she’s going to need fresh blood. We’re going to need the extra room.” Marcus was almost certain that he didn’t have to mention that, but the desperate look in Nicholas’s eyes led him to believe that there was no such thing as being too careful in this situation.

“She has to be alive, Marcus.”

“We’ll find her.” Marcus answered, feeling like an ass for lying. We both know that the odds suck. This could be nothing more than trying to find her body. Gods, whoever did this is going to pay.

“I have a very bad feeling about this,” the Assassin muttered, looking through Marcus. Nicholas’s mind was turning over what he knew, making connections and searching for others.

“How so?” Marcus asked, prompting Nicholas to think aloud, knowing it helped him make
connections he otherwise missed, and it gave Marcus the opportunity to make a few as well.

“The security footage Danny sent over from the club’s parking lot shows Morgan and her attackers, but never their faces.”

“The club has cameras outside?”

“Apparently one of the human staff had some trouble right after the club opened. Morgan had them installed after that.”

“They could have scoped out the cameras. Not too difficult when you know what to look for,” Marcus muttered, his brows drawn together. “Why didn’t anyone see her being attacked, if it was caught on camera? Why are we just learning about this now? Just because she somehow jacked my mind and knocked me flat on my ever–loving ass.” Marcus’s words sped up as he continued, agitation given voice.

“The footage is stored on massive hard drives but not reviewed unless an incident is reported. Since no one reported her disappearance…” Nicholas’s voice trailed off.

“I have a feeling Morgan will be revising that policy when she returns.”

“If she returns.”

Michelle Rabe
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Genre - Paranormal Urban Fantasy
Rating – PG-13
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Friday, April 4, 2014

Donald J. Amodeo's #Excerpt from #Christian #Fiction "Dead & Godless"

“Establishing target coordinates. Captain, your key,” called Ransom.
In the angel’s hand glinted a titanium key. Corwin reached instinctively into his side pocket and his fingers closed on the cool, hard edge of its partner. Among the switches and dials on the panel in front of him was the slit of a lock.
“On the count of three!”
“Remind me why I’m doing this?”
“One, two . . .”
It doesn’t matter. None of this is real, thought Corwin, but no matter how much he tried to rationalize it, everything about the situation felt disturbingly wrong. An angel wouldn’t start a nuclear war, right?
The captain and his first mate twisted their keys in unison. Above a bright red button shielded by glass, the word “armed” blazed ominously. Ransom leaned over and flipped up the guard.
“It’s all yours, Captain.”
“Hold on a second!” Corwin’s finger trembled over the fateful button. “I don’t understand. At least tell me the circumstances!”
“What difference does it make? Just press the button!”
“It makes all the difference in the world!” insisted Corwin. “I don’t even know who we’re firing at! Are we the defender or the aggressor? How many people are going to die if I push that button?”
“Perhaps ten. Perhaps ten million. One number is as good as the next,” Ransom said dispassionately.
“This is insane! I must know the situation!”
“And if I told you, would you understand which course of action to take?”
“Surely an informed decision is better than a blind one!”
“But I thought that all true understanding is scientific understanding. Explain to me why firing a nuclear missile is just or unjust. Explain it with science!”
“I, but that is,” Corwin choked on his words. Could he quantify the value of human life? Taking a labored breath, he struggled to think clearly. “It’s in our genes, a feeling evolved from herd instinct.”
“You’re dancing around the subject, Captain!” growled Ransom. “I didn’t ask you to explain why you feel a sense of justice. I asked you to validate that feeling scientifically. Show me the equation that proves why the jumble of atoms you call a living human being is better than the jumble of atoms you call a corpse.”
“I can’t!” stammered Corwin. “There is no such equation!”
“Then the answer cannot be known scientifically. The question must be irrelevant!”
“I won’t do this! I won’t play your game!”
His voice shaking, Corwin snapped shut the guard and took a fearful step away from the button.
“Our orders come straight from the top. To disobey is treason!” In a flash, Ransom drew his sidearm, pressing its cold barrel to the side of Corwin’s head. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to relieve you of command, Captain.”
“Whoa!” Corwin threw up his hands. “I thought we were past the whole persuasion-by-physical-abuse stage in our relationship!”
“Let me make this easier for you. In a short time, this world’s sun will explode in a supernova, extinguishing all human life. Why not push the button?”
“Because . . . Because I . . .” Corwin’s mind groped for an answer, finding nothing.
“If I pull this trigger, science can tell me the velocity of the bullet, the heat in the chamber, the trajectory of the blood that splatters on the wall. But science cannot tell me if I should pull the trigger or not. Answering that question requires something more.”
When outspoken atheist Corwin Holiday dies an untimely but heroic death, he’s assigned a chain-smoking, alcoholic angel as his defense attorney in the trial to decide the fate of his soul.
Today many cast Christianity aside, not in favor of another faith, but in favor of no faith. We go off to school or out into the world, and we learn that reality is godless and that free thinking means secular thinking. But must faith entail an end to asking questions? Should not the Author of Reason be able to answer the challenge of reason?
Dead & Godless is a smart and suspenseful afterlife adventure that explores the roots of truth, justice and courage. In these pages awaits a quest that spans universes, where the stakes are higher than life and death, and where Christianity’s sharp edges aren’t shied away from, because we’re not called to be nice. We’re called to be heroes.
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Genre - Christian Fiction
Rating – PG-13
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Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Fool for Love by Merry Farmer @MerryFarmer20 #Western #Historical #Romance

Chapter Four

The Majestic rose up out of the water in its Liverpool dock with all the glory of its name.  Amelia held one hand to her hat and stared at its iron sides, its two dun-colored funnels and three tall masts.  The ship was a strange thing to her, a mixture of old and new, progress with hints of the past.  It had sails that could be unfurled in a pinch, but with its powerful new engines, the ship could cross the ocean in a week.

Seven days to a new world.  It was an exact description of everything her life had become.  It was every bit as daunting.

“What am I doing?” Amelia whispered, staring at the hopeful monstrosity in front of her.  It was one thing to accept an offer for a new life.  It was another thing entirely to go through with it.

She turned away from the ship, swallowing the nausea that had plagued her since she’d left her mother’s house.  This time it wasn’t morning sickness.  That was long past.  At the moment, the baby was the least of her worries.  Her stomach rolled over the idea that she was about to board a ship heading for a new life at the mercy of a stranger, a man, no less.  The last time she had trusted her life and her future to a man had been a disaster.

She paced, purse clutched to her chest, scanning the busy dock in search of her American savior.  Men, women, and children crowded the gangplanks, eager to start their journeys, excited and hopeful.  Many of the third-class passengers carried bundles that indicated theirs was a one-way trip as much as hers was.  Eric had left her there to go buy her ticket, but there was nothing stopping him from running off and leaving her stranded.  Like her father.  Like Nick.  She was a fool to agree to this.  She pivoted and marched away from the ship.

No, she stopped herself after a handful of steps, this was the best decision she could have made.  She may have felt small and lonely standing by herself, waiting, heart and stomach fluttering, but she was as much a part of the intrepid adventurers seeking a new life in America as any of her fellow passengers.  This was right.


“Well, we got a minor problem on our hands.”

The twang of Eric’s accent shocked Amelia from her worries.  She spun to face him as he approached her with wide strides, scratching his head and looking as guilty as a schoolboy.

“A problem?” she asked, voice fluttering.

“Yeah.  I went to buy you a ticket, but they’re plumb sold out.”

Amelia’s chest tightened and her tender stomach lurched.  “Oh.  Oh dear.  Well I suppose….”

She lowered her eyes, heart aquiver.  As quickly as it started, her chance for a new life was over.  All that worrying for nothing.

She squared her shoulders to face her fate.  “I … I thank you for your efforts on my behalf regardless, Mr. Quinlan.”

Eric’s brow crinkled into a curious frown.  “Regardless?”

“I suppose I could find work here in Liverpool,” she explained.  “Surely there must be a shop somewhere that would look the other way from….”  She lowered her hand to the mound of her stomach.

Eric’s lips twitched.  The morning sunlight caught in his eyes.  “I didn’t want to have to put you in third-class, so I told them you were my wife.”

Amelia blinked.  “You what?”

“I told them we’re newlyweds.  I reserved my stateroom in first class last year when I came over.  Good thing I paid for it then too, ‘cuz after this fiasco of a trip I’ll never ride first-class again.  Anyhow, when they said they didn’t have any more rooms, I told them you were my wife and that we would be staying in the same stateroom.  They sold me a ticket for that.”  He handed her a fresh, clean ticket with her name written as ‘Mrs. Amelia Quinlan’.  “Sorry.”

Amelia held perfectly still on the outside, but on the inside her heart pounded and her stomach rolled with guilt for questioning him.  He wasn’t abandoning her.  He had gone out of his way to help her.  Her heart squeezed as it never had before.  She took the ticket from him with a trembling hand, hardly noticing when her fingers brushed his.  She was rescued after all.

“Thank you, Mr. Quinlan.  You have no idea how much this kindness means to me.”  She had to concentrate on breathing, standing straight, and looking up into his handsome eyes with a smile to keep her tears at bay.

“You don’t mind sharing then?” he asked her.

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Genre – Western Historical Romance
Rating – R
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