Friday, January 25, 2013
I want to publicly thank the cover artist, my editor, Rhonda Penders, and everyone involved with helping a dream come true. You guys are awesome.
So now that I've publicly gushed. I'm going to leave you all with a blurb and my first excerpt from Castillo's Fiery Texas Rose.
Mary Rose Thornton is the only survivor of an attack that leaves her brother dead. Although investigation suggests he was planning to sell army weapons to the Mexican renegades, she knows he would never have done such a thing. Avenging his death and saving the family business by running it herself are a double challenge, and a lawman with a mistaken sense of honor stands in her way.
U.S. Marshal Trace Castillo is committed to keeping the peace, but no badge can protect his heart when it comes to a fiery Texas Rose. His hands are full with a hotheaded Irishwoman determined to find justice. Can he clear her brother's name and locate the stolen rifles before innocent people are murdered?
“Don’t you dare tell me it’s not my right to work,” she hissed. “My brother may be dead, but I own that freight company. It is my blood, my sweat, my life!”
“Your life,” he scoffed. “Your death, Miss Thornton, if you keep up with this foolhardy attempt.”
She flashed him a look of disdain. “You pompous windbag.” Her nostrils flared and color crept into her cheeks. “Don’t you preach to me! I intend to honor my brother’s memory by making Thornton’s the best freight company in Texas.”
Her fire set his blood aflame. Any other woman would have run in the opposite direction. In defiance, she stepped closer, glaring up at him, the color of her eyes deepening from blue to deep indigo. In their depths a sparkling of fire leaped and could not go unchallenged. Unable to control his movements, Trace reached out and grasped her by the waist, his broad hands nearly spanning her middle.
“Oh, yes.” His words tumbled over his lips, deep, throaty, and laced with desire. “You’ll make a name for yourself. Every unmarried man, every scoundrel, and every hot blood in southwest Texas will turn up on your doorstep. They will watch the tilt of your head, the sway of your skirts, and try to catch the shimmer of fire in that fine head of hair.”
Beneath his stare, her eyes widened. Not from fear, but with understanding of what his words meant. He searched her face but didn’t hold back. “They won’t stop there,” he continued, pulling her toward him. “Not until they have a taste of heaven.”
I hope you'll enjoy Trace and Mary Rose's story.