USA Today Bestselling Author
heat from our fireplace in Kalamazoo, Michigan. Dad read aloud Madeline
L’Engle’s A WRINKLE IN TIME and Mom peeled orange segments for us to enjoy. That
was the definitive moment I fell in love with fiction.
on my Home Page, scroll down) about the nineteenth century
American West–every subject of possible interest to readers, amateur
historians, authors…as all of these tidbits surfaced while researching for my
books. I also blog monthly at Sweet Romance Reads, Sweet Americana
Sweethearts, and Romancing the
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No one will ever know how badly Pleasance
Benton’s abandonment threw Jacob Gideon. He landed hard, hard enough he didn’t
care to find a replacement. Now that he needs a woman, he figures the safest
way is to order one from a catalog.
place at Jacob’s side. One way or another she’ll remind him theirs is a match
made in heaven…once the shock wears off. The teensy-weensy problem? Jacob
doesn’t know that she—his first love—is
his catalog bride..
he been kidding? He couldn’t deny the truth, not to himself, not any
He stood on the threshold of the parlor, captivated by the golden-haired woman
in plain, serviceable, blue calico, her poise that of the greatest vocalist on
the stage in London, Paris, or New York.
heat of the kitchen to reject petticoats. By the limpness of her skirt, she
obviously wore not a single one beneath.
with strength and passion, her arms outreached as if to a lover. She sang as if
her heart were breaking—but with enough power and control to stun him.
love with her from the moment he’d first heard her sing.
She’d been fifteen, he, nineteen. She’d become a woman in his eyes and nothing
had been the same again.
Pleasance Benton and always had.
belonged in a city, in her finest gowns, before audiences of kings and
presidents, millionaires and magistrates.
working with the creatures who spoke to his soul.
control. As if she were on that imagined stage, she curtsied, slow and deep.
Elegance and training and practice evident in the bend of her arms, the curve
of the hands he’d worked until they’d blistered.
she’d hoped. Achieving her dream could not have been easy. No easier than his.
taken, their love had a chance for success.
had survived a four-year separation, spiteful words, anger and malice.
persona of an opera singer before her adoring audience slipped away, thread by
thread, until Pleasance Benton stood in his parlor. She brushed the back of her
hand over her forehead with the grace of a ballerina.
toward him—or more accurately, the kitchen, but came face to face with him.
was—” He cleared the emotion from his throat. “You are beautiful.”
I love you.