by Nancy Pirri
Western Ways
Writing erotica as Natasha Perry
Ruined Hearts
Don’t miss the third
Montana Women Novella
Janie and the Judge
Available August 2017
Left homeless and destitute, widow Janie Miller is forced to take the only job she can as a prostitute in a saloon. But before she even beds her first customer, she’s arrested for prostitution.
Judge Simon Hopkins oversees her case and sentences her. Upon her release from jail, Simon assists her in finding a job at a reputable saloon. Soon Simon, a confirmed bachelor, begins to fall in love with the calm and gentle woman.
However, Simon has put away plenty of criminals, some of whom have been released and could come gunning for him. He’d like nothing better than to marry Janie, but can he take the chance?
Janie and the Judge
December 1888
Butte, Montana
“Quiet!” Judge Simon Hopkins ordered, pounding his gavel on the hardwood table that served as the bench of law in Butte and Bozeman, Montana. Simon was the only circuit judge to appear in Bozeman one month, then in Butte, the next. Having given his one warning, loud voices dropped to murmurs.
He hated the atmosphere today—eagerness mixed with anticipation—for folks in Butte knew everyone appearing today had been arrested for prostitution.
“Baliff, first one?” Simon said, directing his gaze at his assistant, Jordan Peterson.
Mrs. Jane Miller, rise,” Peterson announced.
When Simon had first read the sheriff’s report of the crime, he’d found it difficult to believe a married woman would prostitute herself, but then he saw that her husband was deceased, which meant she’d likely been left destitute.
Simon shoved his spectacles higher on his nose and looked up to see a tall woman in her mid-twenties standing before him. Her black hair she’d pulled back severely from her face and she wore widow’s weeds. Looking closer, Simon saw wisps of curls framing her face. The bit of fluff softened her features. Her lips were closed tight, her small chin pointy and slightly defiant.
Good. The woman was a fighter. She’d need to be.
“Mrs. Miller, have you legal representation?”
She gaped at him and he felt more than a bit foolish. He guessed she didn’t have a lawyer because she couldn’t afford one—yet it was a standard question he asked everyone before sentencing.
“Yes, she has, your honor,” a loud voice from the back of the courtroom called.
Simon saw a stocky man, slightly receding hairline, forty or so. He was dressed well, in a fine brown summer weight suit and he used an ebony cane as ornamentation rather than need. He was also sweating profusely. Simon caught the heated look in the man’s eyes as he looked at Mrs. Miller and knew the man possessed unsavory thoughts about her.
“No!” Mrs. Miller declared. “He’s not my lawyer but my husband’s brother who only wants—”
She didn’t finish her response but looked away, that chin held high once more.
Simon met her hazel-colored eyes that begged him to understand why she didn’t finish speaking. Beneath her deceivingly plain appearance was a beauty, one who’d fallen on hard times. “He wants what?”
After a long while, when she didn’t reply, he prompted, “Mrs. Miller?”
“Me,” she whispered, looking down at her hands which she kept twisting in front of her.
Simon nodded at his bailiff.
Peterson looked at the man standing in the back of the courtroom. “Proceed to the bench, sir.”
The man walked swiftly to the front, stopping beside Mrs. Miller, who seemingly cringed away from him.
“Your name?” Simon demanded.
“Clive Miller. Mrs. Miller was married to my brother, Robert.”
“Has Mrs. Miller hired your services? Are you a solicitor?”
“I am an attorney, your honor, but alas, Mrs. Miller has too much pride to take up my offer. My poor sister-in-law has been distraught since my brother’s demise, and not thinking clearly.”
“That’s not true,” she said in a trembling voice.
“It seems the lady has a difference of opinion. She has obviously refused your offer, so that’s that. You may sit down.”
“But your honor—”
Simon’s eyes riveted on the man. “You heard me, now sit down, or leave.”
The man stalked out of the courtroom, murmurings following in his wake.
“Order!” Simon slammed his gavel down on the desk.
The voices subsided. Looking over the top of his spectacles, Simon asked, “Are you pleading not guilty, Mrs. Miller?” Poking his finger at the report in front of him, he added, “It seems there’s more than one witness to your crime at the White Pearl Saloon. Do you deny that? If so, then we go to trial. If not, then I will proceed with sentencing.”
“I am guilty,” she whispered, “but not of the act itself.”
“Finish, please,” Simon demanded, though he kept his voice soft and gentle. He knew precisely what she meant, but he had to hear her say the words, though they wouldn’t clear her. Even if she hadn’t bedded a man she’d been caught with intent to do so.
“We hadn’t fornicated yet.”
Did You Miss The First
Montana Women Novella?
Katie and the Marshal
Bozeman, Montana’s new marshal, James Freeman, has big plans to close down every brothel in town, including Katie’s Palace. Katie O’Malley has the fight of her life on her hands—convincing James she’s running a legitimate establishment—a saloon, diner, and boarding house.
James soon finds himself falling for Katie, but when an incident occurs, marring her reputation and forcing her to close down the Palace, James loses what trust he has placed in her.
Will Katie be able to save her business? And will she lose her heart in the process?
Available from Amazon
About the Author
Nancy Pirri
Nancy Schumacher is the owner-publisher of Melange Books, LLC, writing under the pseudonyms, Nancy Pirri and Natasha Perry. She is a member of Romance Writers of America. She is also one of the founders of the RWA chapter, Northern Lights Writers (NLW), and is a member of Midwest Fiction Writers and Romancing the Lakes chapters in Minnesota.
www.nancypirri.com
