Once Upon a Cowboy
Page 18
He stripped his gloves from his hands as he came, tucking them into his belt, and she found herself staring at those hands, at the strength and power conveyed by his loose held fists. She knew those hands. But from where?
A flash of memory hit her. She saw those hands, sinking into the silvery paleness of her hair, anchoring her against him. The nimble way they unbuttoned her shirt, sweeping it off her shoulders. The skillful drift of callused fingers lingering on her breasts, tender and yet forceful. The short, sharp images brought ecstasy mixed with unrelenting pain, and she gasped.
He looked up at the small, feminine sound.
Full sunlight cast the shadow from his face and revealed to her the threat—and promise—in his cold black eyes. In that instant she recognized him, and knew why he'd come.
"This just isn't my day," she muttered. Acting on blind instinct, she shouldered her rifle and fired.
The first blast cratered the ground a foot in front of him. He didn't flinch. He didn't even break stride. He came for her, his steady gaze locked on her face. She jacked out the shell and pumped another into the chamber. The second blast landed square between his boots, showering the black leather with dirt and debris. Still he kept coming, faster now, hard-packed muscle moving with catlike speed. She wasn't given the opportunity to get off another round.
He hit the porch steps two at a time. Not hesitating a moment, he grabbed the barrel of the rifle and yanked it from her grasp, tossing it aside. His hands landed heavily on her shoulder, catapulting her straight into his arms. With a muffled shriek, she grabbed a fistful of shirt to keep from falling.
"You never were much of a shot," he said, his voice low and rough. And then he kissed her.
Once Upon a Bridegroom
The Wacky Women Series
Book Four
by
Day Leclaire
~
To purchase
Once Upon a Bridegroom
from your favorite eBook Retailer,
visit Day Leclaire's eBook Discovery Author Page
www.ebookdiscovery.com/DayLeclaire
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Page forward and complete your journey
with an excerpt from
ONCE UPON A GHOST
The Wacky Women Series
Book One
Excerpt from
Once Upon a Ghost
The Wacky Women Series
Book One
by
Day Leclaire
USA Today Bestselling Author
Whatta ya mean, it's a scam?
"You don't believe this is my first reporting job?"
A hint of sarcasm crept into Zach’s voice. "Don't you mean your first scam?"
Rachel stared in total bewilderment. "I thought we were talking about reporting skills. What has that got to do with scams?"
"Reporting skills?" He laughed. "What reporting skills?"
"My reporting skills." Hurt made her voice tremble. Something had gone drastically wrong. If only she knew what. "The ones you thought were so good."
His eyes narrowed. "You can drop the act. I'm on to you. I have been from the very beginning. You're no reporter."
"I am so. Sort of. At least I will be once I turn in my first article."
"Bull. You may not recognized me, but I recognize you."
He tossed a magazine toward her. It landed at her feet, falling open to a much abused page. Rachel stared down at a wrinkled and torn picture of herself.
"Hey, that's me!" she said in surprise. "And that's the article about my ghost."
"Very astute."
"What are you doing with it?" He didn't answer. Instead, he waited for her to do or say something. Something significant. She grimaced in annoyance. So much for having a reporter's razor-sharp instincts and keen perception. Right now she'd settle for a pinch of womanly intuition and a lengthy, detailed explanation. "Care to give me a hint here? I'm flying blind, in case you haven't noticed."
He laughed and she stared at him, amazed by the difference it made, more amazed by the sudden warmth filling her. His stern, remote facade dissolved as though it had never been, replaced by humor and passion and a stunning vitality. She'd like to know him better—this man, a man of charm and grace and strength.
"You should laugh more, too," she told him, slightly dazed. "Lots more."
"What do you want, Ms. Avery?"
"I want an interview. No. What I really want is for you to leave my ancestor in peace," she told him passionately. "I want you to pick another poor ghost to debunk instead of Francisca."
"Why?" He shot the question at her, the sharpness of his tone demanding an honest response.
She gave him just that. "Because if you claim success or end up scaring off poor Francisca, it'll ruin my chances of selling the book I've written about her. And it's very important that my book sells."
"I'm sure it is."
"But—"
He cut her off, swiftly and implacably. "Ms. Avery, you asked for a quote?"
"Yes."
"Excellent. Take this down."
She hesitated, then removed the red plastic heart from her pen and waited, pen poised above the envelope. "I'm ready."
"Tough. That's spelled, T-O-U-G-H."
"Tough. Got it." She stared at the word for a moment, a small frown gathering between her brows. "That's it? Tough?"
"That's it. I'm going to investigate your ghost, Ms. Avery. Nothing you do or say will change my mind. If anything, having met you, I'm even more convinced it's a scam. Which makes me more determined than ever to prove it."
She quietly capped her pen and stuck it and the envelope into her purse, then stood. "Do your worst, Professor Kingston. The ghost of Francisca Arista is real. And I'll protect her from you no matter what it takes."
His crooked smile reappeared. "I'd expect no less."
"Goodbye, Professor. It's been an experience. A bad one.” She started for the door. "And Professor?"
"Yes?"
"I hope you realize this is going to ruin our relationship." With that, she swept grandly through the door.
Once Upon a Ghost
The Wacky Women Series
Book One
by
Day Leclaire
~
To purchase
Once Upon a Ghost
from your favorite eBook Retailer,
visit Day Leclaire's eBook Discovery Author Page
www.ebookdiscovery.com/DayLeclaire
~
Discover more with
eBookDiscovery.com
Wacky comes naturally to Day Leclaire. It always has.
At the age of five, she taught her kindergarten class how to lock the bathroom stalls and slide out underneath. Then she became the first kindergartner in the school's history to get suspended, after starting a glue war to the tune of one carpet, ten emergency haircuts, fifteen shirts, three pants, and two pairs of sneakers. Or was that three pairs of sneakers?
Anyway, 10 years later, Day conjured the bright idea of using her father's street motorcycle like a dirtbike and crashed it while attempting a spectacular jump over two logs, a lawn chair, her brother, and the family St. Bernard. Brutus survived. Her brother still has nightmares. The motorcycle was DOA. Day, (only slightly bent, spindled, and mutilated) spent most of that year grounded.
Then she earned her driver’s license and wrecked the family car. More than once. Her parents were not amused. The insurance adjuster, however, was. Eventually, he started answering the phone, "So, what's she done now?"
Nowadays, when Day isn't wondering if her driving record was the impetus for the "Mayhem" commercials, she's loving her SPCA fosters dogs and playing The Sims 3 obsessively.
Day also writes with equal abandon, playing god with the fabulous characters and settings she creates—all within the confines of her computer world, of course. Or so she claims...
www.dayleclaire.com
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