My Angel by Christine Young
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 4
Buy
at: www.roguephoenixpress.com
This is the 4th book in the
Lakota/Pinkerton series
Dakota's
Bride, My Angel, The Locket, The Talisman, and Forever His
Denver, 1893
A polished azure sky looked down
on a day that vacillated between winter and spring--a day unable to make up its
mind. Cool breezes lifted Angela Chamberlain's brand-new canary yellow skirt
off the moisture-laden sidewalk. A blazing hot sun dried the puddles in the street
left over from last night's deluge.
Unlike the day, Angela had no
trouble making up her mind. Angela knew what she wanted out of life. She
touched one finger to the sapphire earrings adorning her newly pierced ears.
She wanted adventure.
She had a terrible craving to see
the world--to climb to the top of the Eiffel Tower, to walk the Great Wall of
China. She yearned to fly in a hot-air balloon high above the earth, or ride in
a gondola in Venice. She wanted to fall in love with a man who was as brave and
smart as her father and as dangerous as Devil Blackmoor.
Angela's wish list had no end.
Instead of adventure and romance,
in three short weeks she'd be enrolled in Miss Somebody's finishing school for
young ladies, where knowing which fork to use was more important than riding
with the wind on her favorite horse, Kangee. A place where changing one's
clothes three times or more each day was common practice.
Two days ago she'd told her
father she didn't want to go.
And two days ago her father had told
her she would learn to appreciate the schooling and that she was a very lucky
young woman. He'd also promised her a trip to the continent for a graduation
present.
A graduation present! She
wanted to yell at him, but wisely kept her mouth shut. She wanted to travel
now. Today. But more than anything, she didn't want to be confined to the
stuffy drawing rooms in the East. Just like her father, she needed freedom. But
her father meant to take the choice from her.
To gossip and chatter with rich
society women was not her destiny. To know which wine was served with fish
would not make her happy. This was his dream for her. Sam Chamberlain needed to
look to his own heart and remember the choices he had made twenty-five years
ago.
Her destiny was out there
somewhere, waiting for her to snap it up and hold the moment close to her
heart. She knew what she wanted, and to prove her point, she'd bought a camera
and had the machine sent over to the hotel. She meant to photograph all her
adventures, every nook and cranny, every monument, every intriguing person.
Across the street and down two
blocks, Devil Blackmoor had just taken the saddle off his horse. He brushed the
stallion's back, all the while petting the animal's sleek coat and crooning
into the horse's ear. Mesmerized, she watched his hands and the gentle way he
stroked the horse.
She wished she had her camera.
Devil Blackmoor commanded her
attention. He symbolized everything a father cautioned his daughter to be wary
of. Despite the warning, Devil's strong jaw, his powerful shoulders and the
confident way he held himself beckoned to every feminine nerve in Angela's
body.
Angela clutched her hands to her
chest, willing her gaze to shift to something or someone who wouldn't shatter
her senses and set her blood boiling. Helpless to control her wayward heart,
she kept looking back at Devil. She noticed everything about him, the way he
moved, the way his denim jeans clung to his legs and the way they molded to his
backside. Devil laughed at something the bouncer from the saloon said, and when he smiled, one edge of his mouth tilted crookedly. Angela's heart
swooned and fluttered, and she thought she might never breathe again.
No comments:
Post a Comment