Saving Cole Turner was released today. Here's the blurb:
Washington Territory, 1871
Flanders is set on marrying Cole Turner and saving him from the gun-toting life
he’s been leading. Kate’s loved Cole since they were children, growing up in
very different families. Now that he’s back in Three Bridges, this may be her last
chance to make him hers and she’s got a plan.
Turner is many things, most of them bad, but he’s not about to take advantage
of the one person in his life who actually saw some good in him. Kate’s fantasy
about marrying him is just that, a fantasy. Not that he doesn’t want her, he
does. But he’s not about to ruin her
life, because that’s what being married to him would do.
determined female, one stubborn cowboy...anything can happen.
Please note: This is a
novella of about 79 pages and 22,000 words.
“I’m not going to marry you.” Cole
stared in disbelief at the pretty young woman who stood before him. Pressure
pulled tight across his chest like a rope around a calf’s ribs. How could she
even think such a thing?
“You’re a coward, Cole
Turner." Kate Flanders spat out the words so hard her sweet face got all
twisted up with emotion.
Had a man called him that, he’d
have drawn already and fired his shot, likely killing the idiot. That all he
wanted to do was collect her in his arms and kiss the blazes right out of her
said he was loco, not a coward.
Cole looked around the copse of
pine trees that hid the couple and their two hobbled horses and wondered how he
had gotten into this predicament. Nothing to do but gather the splinters of his
temper and address this reasonably.
“Kate, you know I’m not the
marrying kind. I wouldn’t make a good husband and you...” He paused to take a
needed breath. “Wouldn’t make me a good wife.”
She bristled like a porcupine under
siege. Those blue eyes of hers went wide then narrowed as she shook her head.
Auburn colored strands tumbled from her fancy hairdo to frame her delicate
She was a beauty. He certainly knew
how to pick ‘em where looks were concerned. Where he apparently fell short was
accounting for temperament.
“I’d make you the best wife and you
know it.” She stabbed a slender finger in his chest, giving several pointed
taps. When she leaned in closer, he could smell the scent of roses. “I’ll save
you from yourself.”
Damn if that pouty red mouth of
hers wasn’t distracting. He’d kissed her senseless last night.
Apparently she’d recovered.
“I don’t need saving.” He’d packed
too much sinning into his twenty-three years for there to be talk of saving.
Her face turned red and her
backbone went straight as a newly hammered post. “You need to settle down. You
need to marry me. We need to make babies.”
“I’ll be happy to do the last
part.” He gave her a grin that had gotten him into bed with more than one
woman. “The other two—ain’t gonna happen.”
He wasn’t so much afraid of her
temper as those clenched fists bunched on her hips.
Last night under the stars, she’d
let him touch the soft breasts hidden now under her silky blue dress. Guess she
thought that entitled her to some sort of declaration on his part.
Not that he didn’t find her
attractive, and, if he were a man with prospects, he’d be tempted to court
Kate, maybe even marry her, since that’d be the only way into her bed. But he
wasn’t a man with prospects.
“Cole Turner, don’t you be making wise
with me. It’s Kate Flanders you’re talking to, not Polly at the Red Bull.” She
stomped her booted foot on the ground.
“Exactly why I’m not going to marry
you. For Christ’s sake, Kate. Your father would never allow it.” That truth
angered him more than it should have. His large hands settled on shoulders so
delicate he took extra care to be gentle. “I’m a bounty hunter, Kate. I kill
people for money. I’m no good.”
Tears sprang to her blue eyes like
metal to a magnet, making him regret his remark. But it only proved what she
should already know: he wasn’t fit to be her husband, and what he wanted didn’t
matter in this at all.
She unclenched her fists and
wrapped her arms around his neck, and damn if he wasn’t powerless to stop her. “I
love you,” she said in a single breath that nearly stole his away.
Anne Carrole has been writing stories since she was in elementary school but back then the hero was more likely to ride a bike not a horse and share a stick of gum rather than a kiss. A co-founder of the western historical romance site, http://www.facebook.com/lovewesternromances , her muse usually comes wearing a cowboy hat. Raised on a farm with horses, dogs, cats, chickens, rabbits and whatever other animals she could convince her parents to shelter, she’s married to her own sweet-talking hero and is the proud mother of a college-aged daughter. They all share their home with a sleek black cat with way too much attitude.