Larkfield House

Katie is running out of time. The first guests will arrive in three months and her Larkfield House Bed & Breakfast is a mess. Her search for a professional renovator digs up the blonde, blue-eyed Matt, and suddenly there's action everywhere! Hammering, shards moving around under their own power, nailing, empty rocking chairs rocking, and a new relationship that heats up faster than heat lightning.

Witness to all the action-and that means all the action-is the voyeuristic virginal ghost of an unfortunate young English gentleman who shipwrecked off the coast of Florida a couple of centuries earlier. He dies despite the tender loving care he receives from the exotic Ais maiden who found him on the beach.

Very annoyed at losing his life before he could discover the joy of his own sexuality, the young man decides to learn…first hand…from Katie and Matt.

Read Chapter One

Bucks and Regina just miss being betrothed in Manhattan's high society. They've both left the city to start new lives. With the whole wide West in which to start over, they practically trip over each other in a small town...in the same bedroom!

Read the short story

Buxton James Worth, IV appeared out of his depth. He had looked forward to testing himself in Texas but why couldn't it start with something easier? Maybe a runaway team with a beautiful woman clinging precariously to the seat of the wagon? But, no. He had to face stagecoach robbers.

Buxton held his hands in the air. The robbers had insisted upon it and aimed shotguns at the passengers to prove they were serious. There was no woman to rescue-especially not the New York beauty his father had hoped to betroth him to-and the other passengers looked far more capable of rescuing Buxton than he did of rescuing them. But looks were deceiving.

Stagecoach robbers!

"Shut up over there!" a voice barked.

Had he spoken out loud? A glance at his fellow passengers' faces confirmed it. He bit his lip and tucked in his chin. The sun, setting in a flood of red and gold, cast deep shadows at his feet. His gaze lingered on the shadows as they blended and separated, creating fanciful shapes. Deciphering arms from legs kept his mind busy and his mouth shut until one long, thin shadow stealthily pulled out the shadow of a handgun.

Hmm. Buxton took a quick peek to make sure he hadn't hmm'ed out loud but no one spared him a look. The others had agreed no one would play hero-but not Buxton. His clothes-cutaway coat and tailored pants-shouted 'citified' and there wasn't a single man in this desolate patch of desert that considered him a threat.

The shadow took aim at the big, silver-haired man to Buxton's left.

I refuse to stand and watch an unarmed man die.

Buxton shifted his weight onto his right leg and, in a sudden move, whipped his left leg up, knocking the silver-haired man down. A bullet tore through the pocket of empty air. In another lightning fast move, Buxton kicked the hand with the handgun. The commotion caught the attention of the other two mounted robbers, but before they could take aim he threw himself to the ground, rolled twice, leaped to his feet between their horses and jerked them out of their saddles. They hadn't hit the ground before he turned to deal with the handgun sneak. Buxton relieved him of the shotgun before it cleared the leather. Glancing behind him, Buxton saw that the passengers had taken care of the other two while he'd been occupied. Everyone stared at him.

"Well," Buxton said companionably to his fellow passengers. "Sorry about that but I just couldn't risk losing my daddy's watch."