Wyoming Renegade
The Need For Vengeance Burned Inside Him Half-breed Josh Colter knew he'd never rest until he'd fulfilled his vow. Murder had been done. Justice must be served - even if it meant betraying the woman fate had decreed as his true-bound bride!The West was wild, open and free - and Alexandria Gibson knew that under the sun-streaked skies she'd found a world that spoke to her restless soul. And in the arms of Josh Colter it felt like paradise. But could she trust a man who harbored murder in his heart?
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Table of Contents
Colter, sometimes you can be a first-rate ass, Josh thought to himself.
“Aw, hell, Alex…” His guard slipped. He dragged out a chair and straddled it, keeping the back like a barricade between them. “I didn’t mean…” Josh slapped his hat down on the table and raked one hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. Sorry this happened. I feel like—”
“Like saying I told you so?” She made a small sound in the back of her throat that could have been a chuckle.
“Never,” he lied, having thought that exactly. She looked so pitiful. It was all he could do not to reach out and pull her into his arms, to hold her until the fear went away.
Don’t even think about it. She’s trouble. She’s the one woman in the world you can’t have.
Yeah, he knew that. So how come she was the one woman he wanted so much?
Dear Reader,
Josh Colter is a rancher on a trail of revenge. Alexandria Gibson is on a journey to find her brother. Both are looking for the same man in Susan Amarillas’s new Western, Wyoming Renegade. Susan’s last two books have won her 5
Catherine Archer’s Lady Thorn is the story of a Victorian heiress who falls in love with a sea captain who promises her protection in exchange for her help in locating his son. We hope you’ll find this gifted author’s story—in the words of the reviewer from Affaire de Coeur— “impossible to put down.”
USA Today bestselling and multiaward-winning author Ruth Langan’s new series, THE JEWELS OF TEXAS, moves into full swing with this month’s Jade, the story of a small-town preacher who surrenders his soul to the town madam. And in Kate Kingsley’s new Western, The Scout’s Bride, a determined young widow decides to accept the help of a rugged army scout who has made himself her unwanted protector.
Whatever your taste in reading, we hope you’ll keep an eye out for all four titles wherever Harlequin Historicals are sold.
Sincerely,
Tracy Farrell
Senior Editor
Please address questions and book requests to:
Harlequin Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie. Ont. L2A 5X3
SUSAN AMARILLAS
was born and raised in Maryland and moved to California when she married. She quickly discovered her love of the high desert country—she says it was as if she were “coming home.” When she’s not writing, she and her husband love to travel the back roads of the West, visiting ghost towns and little museums, and always coming home with an armload of books.
To my “big sister” Madeline Baker
There from the first, there for me still
Many thanks
Zeke Larson was going to die. He knew it, and so did his captor.
Moonlight, white and cold, flooded the valley, casting the red rocks in black shadows. The woeful howl of a coyote and Zeke’s harsh breathing were the only sounds.
He was strung up to a cottonwood tree like a damn four-pronged buck, his arms stretched painfully over his head, hemp rope cutting into his wrists. Every time he moved, the trickle of blood oozing from his side turned into a crimson rivulet.
Close by, stood his captor. A motherless gut-eating ‘breed by the dark look of him. Zeke hated half-breeds and Indians and just about anyone else who- wasn’t what he thought of as “his kind.”
“I’m telling you I ain’t the one you’re lookin’ for,” Zeke argued, not for the first time.
The man didn’t answer, just pushed the cold, hard barrel of his .45 deep into Zeke’s wound.
Zeke groaned against the searing pain. “Damn you, ‘breed!” he spat.
“Absarokee,” his captor corrected flatly. “Are you ready to tell me?” His voice was soft, almost serene, as though he hadn’t been torturing Zeke for the past several hours.
Zeke knew he could end it, knew what the bastard wanted. Damn ‘breed had said so plain enough at the beginning. He wanted the names of the other two who’d gunned down a group of Indians a couple of weeks back.
Zeke had denied everything, not that it had done him any good. Zeke liked to drink and he liked to brag. He had made the mistake of doing both at the local saloon. He figured that was how this coldhearted scum had gotten on his trail.
Now Zeke was trying frantically to come up with a way out of this—an excuse, an alibi, a deal. So far nothing had worked.
A sage-scented breeze rustled the leaves of the tree, but it didn’t do a thing to ease the sweat that beaded on his forehead. He swiped his face on his sleeve. He was determined to outlast this bastard. No Indian was gonna get the best of him!
