…Dusty's heart panged a twinge when she saw the bullwhip strapped to the saddle of one of the horses tied to the corral fence. “Why today?” she wondered. Why was her memory tarrying on that young cowhand from five years ago? …"Well…now," a deep, masculine voice said from behind her, "if it ain't Miss Dusty Britches!" Dusty felt the color drain from her face…felt the blood seem to drain from the rest of her body and puddle in her feet. She felt dizzy and nauseated all at once. …There was only one person on the whole of the earth who ever called her Dusty Britches, and that was the cowboy who gave her the nickname in the first place. ...Dusty slowly turned around to see standing before her a man whose eyes were those belonging to a boy she'd once known--a boy who had grown into a man. Angelina Hunter was seriously minded...and it was a good thing. Her father’s ranch needed a woman who could endure the strenuous work of ranch life. Since her mother’s death, Angelina had been that woman. She had no time for frivolity; no time for a less severe side of life. Not when there was so much to be done--hired hands to feed, a widower father to care for and an often ridiculously light-hearted younger sister to worry about. No. Angelina Hunter had no time for the things most young women her age enjoyed. And yet, Angelina had not always been so hardened. There had been a time when she boasted a fun, flirtatious nature even more delightful than her sister Becca’s--a time when her imagination soared with adventurous, romantic dreams. But that all ended years before at the hand of one man. Her heart turned to stone…safely becoming void of any emotion save impatience and indifference. Until the day her dreams returned, the day that the very maker of her broken heart rode back into her life. As the dust settled from the cattle drive that brought him back, would Angelina’s heart be softened? Would she learn to hope again? Would her long-lost dreams become a blessed reality?

Dusty Britches

Romance

McClure, Marcia Lynn

Historical

Distractions Ink

Lark Lawrence was alone. In all the world there was no one who cared for her. Still, there were worse things than independence-and Lark had grown quite capable of providing for herself. Nevertheless, as winter loomed, she suddenly found herself with no means by which to afford food and shelter-destitute. Yet, Tom Evans was a kind and compassionate man. When Lark Lawrence appeared on his porch, without pause he hired her to keep house and cook for himself and his cantankerous elder brother, Slater. And although Tom had befriend Lark first, it would be Slater Evans-handsome, brooding and twelve years Lark's senior-who would unknowingly abduct her heart. Still, Lark's true age (which she concealed at first meeting the Evans brothers) was not the only truth she had kept from Slater and Tom Evans. Darker secrets lay imprisoned deep within her heart-and her past. However, it is that secrets are made to be found out-and Lark's secrets revealed would soon couple with the arrival of a woman from Slater's past to forever shatter her dreams of winning his love-or so it seemed. Would truth and passion mingle to capture Lark the love she'd never dared to hope for?

Weathered Too Young

SHE HAD ALWAYS LOVED HIM...FOREVER IT SEEMED SHE HAD LOVED HIM. YET, WHEN SO MANY OTHERS LOVED HIM, TOO-WHAT HOPE DID SHE HAVE OF OWNING HIS LOVE IN RETURN? Jacey Whittaker couldn't remember a time when she hadn't loved Scott Pendleton-the boy next door. She couldn't remember a time when Scott hadn't been in her life-in her heart. Yet, Scott was every other girl's dream, too. How could Jacey possibly hope to win such a prize-the attention, the affections, the very heart of such a sought after young man? Yet, win him she did! He became the bliss of her youthful heart-at least for a time. Still, some dreams live fulfilled-and some are lost. Loss changes the very soul of a being. Jacey wondered if her soul would ever rebound. Certainly, she went on-lived a happy life-if not so full and perfectly happy a life as she once lived. Yet, she feared she would never recover-never get over Scott Pendleton-her first love. Until the day a man walked into her apartment-into her apartment and into her heart. Would this man be the one to heal her broken heart? Would this man be her one true love?

Love Me

Literature & Fiction

Marcia Lynn McClure

Erotica

Aspen Falls was happy. Her life was good. Blessed with a wonderful family and a loyal best friend-Aspen did know a measure of contentment. Still, to Aspen it seemed something was missing-something hovering just beyond her reach-something entirely satisfying that would ensure her happiness. Yet, she couldn't consciously determine what the "something" was. And so, Aspen sailed through life-not quite perfectly content perhaps-but grateful for her measure of contentment. Grateful that is, until he appeared-the man in the park-the stranger who jogged passed the bench where Aspen sat during her lunch break each day. As handsome as a dream, and twice as alluring, the man epitomized the absolute stereotypical "real man"-and Aspen's measure of contentment vanished! Would Aspen Falls reclaim the comfortable contentment she once knew? Or would the handsome real-man-stranger linger in her mind like a sweet, tricky venom-poisoning all hope of Aspen's ever finding true happiness with any other man?

The Time of Aspen Falls

Contemporary

Cassidy Shea's life was nothing if not serene. Loving parents and a doting brother provided happiness and innocent hope as life's experience. Yes-life was blissful at Cassidy's beloved home-Terrill. Still, for all Terrill's beauty and tranquility, ever there was something intangible and evasive lurking in the shadows. And though Cassidy wasted little worry on it, still she sensed its existence-looming as a menacing fate bent on ruin. And when a dark stranger appeared, Cassidy could no longer ignore the ominous whispers of the secrets surrounding her. Mason Carlisle, an angry, unpredictable man, materialized-with Cassidy's black fate at his heels. Thus, thrust into a world completely unknown to her, Cassidy found herself trapped-wandering in a labyrinth of mystery and concealments. Serenity was vanquished-and with it her dreams. Yet, were the secrets so cautiously kept from Cassidy-were they indeed the cloth, the very flax from which her dreams were spun-from which eternal bliss would be woven?

Shackles of Honor

"Dear Mr. McLean,      I feel, as you do, that this arrangement will be beneficial and satisfactory for both of us. I agree that we, having committed to follow through with the previously corresponded terms, will legally marry upon my arrival next week. I expect nothing from you, save a place of residence, the required necessities of living, hard work to keep my mind and physical being occupied, and respect. I in turn will assist you in whatever is required to sustain and maintain your land and crops, while providing meals, doing mending, and fulfilling other non-intimate duties commonly performed by a man's legal wife.      I will arrive in Blue Springs on the 10:00 a.m. train, April 3rd..."       Genieva Bankmans had willfully agreed to the arrangement.  She had given her word and she would not dishonor it.  Yet when she saw, for the first time, the man whose advertisement she'd answered...she was desperately intimidated.  The handsome and powerful Brevan McLean was not what she'd expected-he was not the sort of man she'd reconciled herself to marrying.      This man-the stranger whose name Genieve now bore-was strong-willed, quick-tempered and expectant of much from his new wife.  Brevan McLean did not deny that he had married her for practical reasons only.  He merely wanted any woman whose hard work would provide him assistance with the brutal demands of farm life.      Still, Genieva would learn there were far darker things, grave secrets held unspoken by Brevan McLean concerning his family and his land.  Genieva Bankmans McLean would find herself in the midst of treachery, violence and villainy-her estranged husband deeply entangled in it.

The Heavenly Surrender

A Crimson Frost

Beloved of her father, King Dacian, and adored by her people, the Scarlet Princess Monet endeavored to serve her kingdom well-for the people of the Kingdom of Karvana were good, and worthy of service. Long Monet had known that even her marriage would serve her people. Her husband would be chosen for her-for this was the way of royal existence. Still, as any woman does-peasant or princess-Monet dreamt of owning true love-of owning choice in love. Thus, each time the raven-haired, sapphire-eyed, Crimson Knight of Karvana rode near-Monet knew regret-for in secret, she loved him-and she could not choose him. As an arrogant king from another kingdom began to wage war against Karvana, Karvana's king, knights and soldiers answered the challenge. The Princess Monet would also know battle. As the Crimson Knight battled with armor and blade-so the Scarlet Princess would battle in sacrifice and with secrets held. Thus, when the charge was given to preserve the heart of Karvana-Monet endeavored to serve her kingdom and forget her secreted love. Yet, love is not so easily forgotten

Love-the miraculous, eternal bond that binds two souls together. Lauryn Kennsington knew the depth of it. Since the day of her eighth birthday, she had lived the power of true love-witnessed it with her own heart. She had talked with it-learned not even time or death can vanquish it. The Captain taught her these truths-and she loved him all the more for it. Yet now-as a grown woman-Lauryn's dear Captain's torment became her own. After ten years, Lauryn had not been able to help him find peace-the peace his lonely spirit so desperately needed-the peace he'd sought every moment since his death over fifty years before. Still, what of her own peace? The time had come. Lauryn's heart longed to do the unthinkable-selfishly abandon her Captain for another-a mortal man who had stolen her heart-become her only desire. Would Lauryn be able to put tormented spirits to rest and still be true to her own soul? Or, would she have to make a choice-a choice forcing her to sacrifice one true love for another?

The Fragrance of Her Name

The fire burned hot and red in the pit, and Saphyre's eyes again began to long for the sweet respite of slumber. Still, she dared not close them for a moment in the presence of these strangers, and so it was she continued to study the men-wonder of their lives before the keep-and their secrets. It was certain they owned secrets-for did not she? All human beings owned secrets-some more than others perhaps-but all owned them. Thus, she sat in contemplation. What secrets would drive men to such solitude? "Have you sorted us all out then?" he asked unexpected. His gaze bore down upon her like the red heat of the sun. "Have you sorted the gentlemen from the miscreants? Determined who will serve as your lover and who will be your footman?" Descended of a legendary line of strength and beauty, Saphyre Snow had once known happiness as princess of the Kingdom of Graces. Once a valiant king had ruled in wisdom-once a loving mother had spoken soft words of truth to her daughter. Yet, a strange madness had poisoned great minds-a strange fever inviting Lord Death to linger. Soon it was even Lord Death sought to claim Saphyre Snow for his own-and all Saphyre loved seemed lost. Thus, Saphyre fled-forced to leave all familiars for necessity of preserving her life. Alone, and without provision, Saphyre knew Lord Death might yet claim her-for how could a princess hope to best the Reaper himself? Still, fate often provides rescue by extraordinary venues, and Saphyre was not delivered into the hands of Death-but into the hands of those hiding dark secrets in the depths of bruised and bloodied souls. Saphyre knew a measure of hope and asylum in the company of these battered vagabonds. Even she knew love-a secreted love-a forbidden love. Yet it was love itself-even held secret-that would again summon Lord Death to hunt the princess, Saphyre Snow.

Saphyre Snow

Civil War-no one could flee from the nightmare of battle and the countless lives it devoured. Everyone had sacrificed-suffered profound misery and unimaginable loss. Vivianna Bartholomew was no exception. The war had torn her from her home-orphaned her. The merciless war seemed to take everything-even the man she loved. Still, Vivianna yet knew gratitude-for a kind friend had taken her in upon the death of her parents. Thus, she was cared for-even loved. Yet, as General Lee surrendered signaling the war's imminent end-as Vivianna remained with the remnants of the Turner family-her soul clung to the letters written by her lost soldier-to his memory written in her heart. Could a woman ever heal from the loss of such a love? Could a woman's heart forget that it may find another? Vivianna Bartholomew thought not. Still, it is often in the world that miracles occur-that love endures even after hope has been abandoned. Thus, one balmy Alabama morning-as two ragged soldiers wound the road toward the Turner house-Vivianna began to know-to know that miracles do exist-that love is never truly lost.

Beneath the Honeysuckle Vine

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