Western Man Ever since she was a teenager, Sharon Powell has adored Ridge Halliday, a strong, proud Colorado rancher who could set her heart trembling with one glance from his lazy blue eyes. Now, working at his side on a cattle roundup is a dream come true. But Sharon has a bold new dream beyond her girlish fantasies: to win Ridge not just for a night of passion -- but for a lifetime of love.
Leftover Love Layne MacDonald's search for her birth mother takes her to a sprawling Nebraska ranch co-owned by the brusque and distant Creed Dawson. As he teaches her to rope and ride, Layne taps into his secret anguish and realizes that she is falling in love.
Must redeem within 90 days. See full terms and conditions and this month's choices. Tell us what you like, so we can send you books you'll love. Sign up and get a free eBook! Trade Paperback. Price may vary by retailer. Add to Cart Add to Cart. Table of Contents Excerpt. About The Book. Chapter One The ranch-house kitchen was filled with the warm smell of chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven. When the last cookie on the metal sheet pan joined the others cooling on the paper spread on the counter top, Sharon Powell turned to carry the sheet pan to the table where the bowl of cookie dough sat.
Her hazel-eyed glance fell on the empty chair pushed away from the table, where a half-finished glass of milk remained along with two cookies, each with a bite taken from it. Her reaction was a combination of alarm and exasperation. There was no response to her querying call, although she strained alertly to catch any sound. Muttering to herself, Sharon started out in search of the toddler. I turn my back on him for two minutes and he disappears.
As soon as she entered the living room, she spied him standing at the screen door, stretching a small hand to reach the latch. A wry shake of her head sent her short, toffee-colored ponytail swaying. Let's go back to the kitchen.
The tow-headed boy's expression was animated with excitement, his blue eyes gleaming. With a sinking feeling, Sharon glanced through the screen toward the corral by the barn. A flaxen-maned chestnut horse had nudged the gate open and was taking its first tentative step to freedom. The five other horses in the corral, horses Sharon had contracted to train, were crowding into line behind their chestnut leader. Her gaze never left the horse warily stepping through the opened gate as she scooped Tony off the floor and swung him onto her hip. She didn't dare leave him alone in the house while she chased the horses back into the corral.
Heaven only knew what he'd get into; mischief seemed to be his middle name. Sharon fumbled with the screen-door latch for a second, then pushed it open to race from the house.
The sleek chestnut threw its head up and snorted in alarm at her approach. Her boots skimmed down the porch steps while Tony rode on her hip, laughing with delight. You spoiled, good-for-nothing animal! Get back in there! As the chestnut lunged to make good its escape, Sharon ran an intercepting course that would place her directly in the path of the horses and hopefully prevent them from bolting down the ranch lane to the road.
It wasn't easy doing that with Tony on her hip. She didn't dare set him on the ground. With his penchant for adventure, he'd get right into the thick of things, ignorant of any possible danger to himself. In the back of her mind, there was a silent tribute to her mother, who had probably coped with many similar situations raising her two children on this western Colorado ranch. At her shrill whistles and waving arm, the chestnut horse broke stride. Its hesitation provided Sharon time to get in front of the horses.
For a second, she thought the other horses pressing the lead chestnut from the rear might prod it into charging against her. He thought it was all great fun and threw himself into this new game with such abandon that Sharon nearly dropped him. The horses swerved, hooves clacking. She had stopped them from galloping down the lane, but herding them back into the corral was another thing.
It became a frustrating game of tag. Sharon was able to contain them, but she couldn't coerce the horses to re-enter the fenced enclosure. If only she could get one inside, chances were the others would follow, but each time Sharon tried to lure the horses in, they shied away from the open gate. Her cowboy boots were not designed for running over rough ground for long periods.
Her leg muscles soon began to feel the strain, while Tony was getting heavier and heavier, his weight more awkward to balance. Her arm ached from holding him on her hip, and he didn't help the situation. Weary of the game, Tony wanted it to stop so he could pet the horses. His whining and demanding protests wore on her already frazzled nerves. She was hot and tired, choking on the dust churned up by the milling horses. Sharon paused a second to catch her breath, wondering how on earth she was going to get the horses back in the corral on her own.
Neither her parents nor her brother were due back until evening. She felt doomed. From out of nowhere it seemed, a brown streak flashed by Sharon. During the performance the audience is treated to six small bizarre foods created specifically for the occasion, which are used to highlight and emphasize the issues at stake.
A full length video of performance is available. In case you would like to see it, please contact me. Books About. Romantic Sad Sentimental. Sexy Trippy All Moods. Drinking Hanging Out In Love. Introspection Late Night Partying. Rainy Day Relaxation Road Trip. Romantic Evening Sex All Themes. Features Interviews Lists. Streams Videos All Posts.
Stream or buy on:. Genre Jazz Blues. Recording Date February 2, - March 4, Track Listing.
She is known for her strong, decisive characters, her extraordinary ability to recreate a time and a place, and her unerring courage to confront important, controversial issues in her stories. See More Categories. If not a widower? Happy relationships Thousands have found their love. As his long shadow fell across hers, Sharon recognized the real problem -- she was no longer a teenager, but that didn't stop a quiver of excitement from shooting through her. All services for women are absolutely free of charge!