Dreamer, Elita La Rue, has always romanticized the stories in her great-great-grandmother’s journal and memorized the photographs of two gunfighters--Wild Bill Hickok and Seth Lucan. If only she could turn back the hands of time to 1876! Playing dress up in her father's theme town, Duke's Wild West, is as good as it gets until a handsome gunfighter appears out of nowhere claiming to be Seth Lucan. Elita is willing to believe his outlandish story in hopes he'll make all her fantasies come true.
Seth Lucan is tired. Tired of being mistaken for his outlaw brother, and tired of dodging bullets. When he arrives in Deadwood, his hopes of making enough money to start over are shattered when he discovers the town has not only become a cesspool of thieves and murderers, but the Lucan name and troubles have followed him. Now he’s faced with a new barrage of bullets, a high-strung lady with a wild imagination, and no way out.
A strange mist emanating from the old blacksmith’s shop may answer both their prayers. Will love be enough to save them from the consequences?
(304 pages) Spicy
EXCERPT:
Elita shifted her gaze as movement near the end of Main Street caught her attention. She wasn’t sure if the mist at the base of Murphy’s Blacksmith Shop was smoke or fog from the nearby woodland. The apparition crept forward as quietly as a night owl in flight and surrounded her in a glowing canopy of silence.
Elita’s head felt light and her heart raced. Murphy’s log structure became translucent, fading from view. She shook her head and closed her eyes tightly. When she opened them again, the structure was gone. She froze to the spot where she sat and her heart tried to jump from her chest. Slowly, log-by-log, the blacksmith’s shop reappeared as mysteriously as it vanished.
When the burning in her chest became unbearable, Elita realized she’d been holding her breath and released it in a rush of pent-up air. At that moment she saw the strange man. Wearing a black shirt, buckskin vest and trousers neatly tucked into Cavalry-style boots, he sat majestically atop a brown and white spotted horse, strutting toward her. He stopped a few feet in front of Elita. Cross-draw pearl-handled .44 Colt revolvers jutted from a bullet-studded belt worn about his narrow hips. In the mist he appeared more ghost than human.
He swung his right leg over the saddle horn and slid to the ground. He scanned the town as the fog dissipated.
“What do you want?” Elita was stunned to hear a little voice in the back of her head plead, Please say me.
This product was added to our catalog on Friday 23 October, 2009.
