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Jessica aimed at the one holding another torch. Before he could throw it, she fired. He fell back with a sickening thud as flames consumed his body. She shuddered at the agonizing moan and awful sight. Smoke clouded her vision and made her eyes burn.

Another raider returned her shots, but she ducked, firing back. Her horse bucked as a lighted torch just missed them, setting the grass by her feet on fire.

She urged her horse away from the flames. Once she felt reasonable safe, she took aim, but froze before she could get the shot off at the sight of Caleb chasing Kay’s cows out of the fence. Was he protecting them or stealing them?

The man she was aiming at was firing back at her. A rider came between them, directing the others to follow him. His horse bumped hers, causingWindrunner to stumble, taking her down with him. Before she could grab his reins, her horse took off, heading back toward the farm. She wasn’t sure, because it all happened so fast, but she thought it might be Wyatt…Wolf.

>Was he helping them? What did that mean

Damn, damn, damn. She hit her hat on her dusty pants. Now she had no horse. As she started toward Kay’s house, she saw Gil out of the corner of her eye heading straight toward her. As he leaned down to pluck her up, another man came up behind her, swooping her up in his steel grip.

Jessica wasn’t in the mood for one of Phillip’s lectures on how a proper woman should behave. Really, the man could be such a self-righteous prig sometimes.

“What were you thinking riding out after those men?”

Anger sparked in her at his highhanded tone. Sometimes he acted as if he owned her. Since he eased up his hold, she resisted the urge to jerk her arm free.

“Did you think I’d stand by and let someone hurt my friends?”

“I didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers, my dear. It just scares me to think of the risks you took.”

Some of her irritation melted as he gently brushed a lock of hair off her cheek.

“You do too much with this farm and being responsible for all people you take in. I wish you’d let me help you.”

“I don’t… I’m not—”

He raised his hands, cutting her off. “I know.” He sighed. “Maybe you should think about what would happen to those you care about if you were killed.”

She tensed, staring at him. “Are you threatening me?”

“Of course not. It’s that other people might not be as understanding in regards to…”

She folded her arms glaring. This was a side of him she didn’t like. If he thought her a bad person now, what would he think if he knew her brother was an outlaw? Part her wanted to scream, I’ll never be a lady.

“Go on.” Her voice held some controlled anger he seemed to be ignoring. “They are children. Who their parents are shouldn’t matter.”

“But you know as well as I do that it does. Not every man would be as willing to taken them all in.” Clearing his throat, his face softened. “I don’t know why you keep putting me off, dear heart. You need a man around here. Surely Kay’s experience tonight should have shown you that.”

“And I see you’ve done a fine job so far.”

Jessica closed her eyes, groaning at Tyler’s deep bass voice, afraid to turn around. The shocked look on Phillip’s face told her exactly what she’d see.

Taking a deep breath, she gathered the courage to look behind her. Tyler stood with his large, muscular frame clad only in a sheet and the bandages around his ribs, filling the door frame. His head almost touched the top of it.

Great balls of fire, how could the man look even more dangerous without his clothes than with them on?

Phillip’s eyes were practically bugged out of his head and face was bright red with anger. “What the bloody hell is going on here? I thought you were a lady, but…”

The words died in his throat as Tyler lifted him off the ground, holding a stunned Phillip dangling in one fist. “I’d rethink insulting her if I were you.”

Phillip’s mouth worked, but no sound came out as Tyler lowered him to his feet. Showing all the indignation he could muster considering what had just happened, Phillip straightened his coat.

“This ends our relationship.” He slammed on his hat, stalking out.

Jessica folded her arms, glaring at Tyler.

4 stars! "McAteer and Stang create a seamless novel that readers will enjoy. The primary and secondary characters are sharp and clearly defined, and it's wonderful to see the friendship between all of the characters develop. The passion between the protagonists is undeniable, but even more compelling is the emotional intimacy that develops. This solid start to the Bliss Society series will have readers anticipating the next installment."
– reviewed by Keitha Hart for Romantic Times Book

Jewels didn’t seem appropriate.  Although, since Corina was back living in the mistress house he probably should try something glittery to catch her eye.  But instead Andre opted for flowers.  Knowing roses were her favorite, he’d found a man who grew beautiful ones.

So here he stood on the steps like a chump with a huge bouquet of red, pink and white roses.  Of course, it was still bloody raining.

Nassar opened the door.  This time he grinned at him. “Ah, you come back.  You court. Very good.”

For all the good it would do him.  After two long days and two lonely sleepless nights, he’d finally decided to come.

Nassar stepped back letting Andre walk into house which was still decorated in gaudy, gilded red and gold with the pictures of naked cherubs and erotic statues that they used to laugh about.  They’d once felt deliciously wicked here.  This use to be his retreat, a place that he could be himself and let his dark passions run free.  Being here used to bring him comfort.  Not only was he surrounded by objects of sexual promiscuity, but he had also splurged on outrageously extravagant furnishings for the house that Corina never asked for.  Chandeliers of crystal, full sets of silver dinnerware, even a well-equipped kitchen; although he rarely gave her time to eat.  He’d set her up with a very generous allowance too, which to this day he suspected she put in the bank.  Now he felt empty standing among the ruins of their once happy life.

“You stay.  I tell.” Nassar bowed as he disappeared.

Not knowing what else to do, he stood holding the flowers, wondering if she would actually see him.

What would he do if she didn’t?

Before nerves could fully get the better of him, the huge man reappeared.

“She see you.”

He led Andre into a room that looked like the boudoir in one of London’s finest men’s clubs.  The thick carpet, marble fireplace and rich, decadently upholstered furnishings boasted of a kept woman. E’gads he’d forgotten how elaborate it was.  Mirrors graced a number of walls along with silk and gold enrichments from ceiling to floor. His gaze caught on the oil painting of a Rubenesque-like nude reclining on a chaise displaying her body to the viewer. He was getting hard just thinking of all the ways they’d made love in this room.  Even more so when he turned to face Corina, who sat perched on the edge of the red velvet chair that looked like a throne from some erotic tale.

Corina stood, trying in vain to hide her shaking hands.  At least she was as nervous as he was.  Maybe that was a good sign.

“I brought you some flowers,” he said, stating the obvious as if she couldn’t see that.  E’gads he was babbling like a school boy.

“Thank you.”  She handed them to Nassar.  “Have these put in water for me, please.”

Nassar hesitated, but then nodded before he left.

Now that they were alone, he needed to talk to her.  They weren’t going to get anywhere staring at each other.  He might as well get right to the point.  Who knew how long the big man would be gone?

“I’m not going to let you divorce me.”

“I should have known you wouldn’t be reasonable.”

“I am being reasonable.  You’re the one who is not.  Damn it, Corina, what do you want from me.  I gave you the protection of my name and—”

“And a chance to be respectable.  Well no thanks.  I’d take the passion of being scandalous over cold respectability any day.”

“What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?”

“The moment I became your wife you started treating me differently.”

“I had a staff of respectable servants.  I couldn’t very well have sex on the floor in every bleeding room of my house.  Besides you were pregnant.”  As soon as the word escaped his mouth he regretted it.  Saying that word out loud sucked all the pretenses out of the room, leaving them both vulnerable and naked.

“And we both know that’s why you lowered yourself to marry me.”

“I…”  He opened and closed his mouth.  They both knew it was true, so there was no sense in denying it.  He would have kept her his mistress if she hadn’t gotten pregnant.

“We can’t correct the past,” he said quietly.

“No we can’t.”  She folded her arms over her chest protectively.

“So what do you want?”

“A man who makes love to me with passion.  One who doesn’t treat me like I’m glass.”

“I back.”  Nassar reappeared, looming large in the doorway.  “You go.  Pay more tomorrow.”

He was beginning to think he was going to pay for a lifetime.

Someone was pounding on the door.  Corina threw back the covers and pulled on her robe before padding to the door of her bedroom.  Who could be here at this hour of the night?

Oh, shoot, she’d forgotten that she’d given him the night off.

Should she answer it?

She crept down the stairs. Through the curtains lightning flashed and rain poured.  Inside her house was quiet.

The pounding grew louder and more insistent.

Not being able to resist any longer, she pulled the door open to find her rain-soaked husband, standing with this fist poised to knock again.  Andre looked like a wild man with his hair all mussed, and the rain streaming down his face.

“It’s late.  I don’t feel like talking,” she blurted out, hoping he would see reason and leave.

“That makes two of us.”  He stepped forward, forcing her back into the house as he slammed the door.

“Andre, I don’t…” She backed up again, wary of the expression on his face.

“What?” He pulled off his coat, tossing it down on the floor.   “Like being flipping proper.”  His cravat followed.  “Do you think I do either?”

He began unbuttoning his shirt.  Then in frustration he ripped it, sending buttons flying.  “I bloody well hate being proper.”

“Andre.  I don’t—”

“What?”  He began undoing his pants.  “Want to live in my world?  Do you think I do either?  I used to love this house.  This place was my haven.  I could leave my world behind.  I’ve ruined that, too.”

She swallowed hard as his shoes came off along with his pants.  He moved purposely toward her, all solidly-built, fully-aroused male, stalking her like a tiger looking for prey.

She turned to flee, but he caught her arm, pushing her back against the wall.

“Do you want to be bad?” he whispered against her neck as he lifted her gown, pulling it over her head and tossing it into the air.  “Then let’s be bad together.”

4 stars! "This first book in Stang's Finding Home series is set at the tail end of the Civil War. There is more than one romance brewing, and the involvement of all the heroine's family makes the story entertaining, because the focus more on relationships and less on the war."
– reviewed by Susan Mobley for Romantic Times Book

Her worst nightmare had come true. Cassandra Beaumont paced around the porch, squeezing the polished gun butt tight as she watched a group of Union soldiers ride brazenly through her yard. The roar of distant cannon fire set her already raw nerves on edge.

Please let me remember Tyler’s lessons on using the gun.

She jumped, almost shooting herself in the foot when the door creaked open behind her and her younger sister Rachel poked her head out. “Are you sure you don’t need my help?”

“Positive. Your job is to take care of the others.”

“But…” she protested.

“I’m finished arguing.” Cassandra grabbed the doorknob, pulling it shut to emphasize her point.

Unable to resist getting in the last word, Rachel cracked the door open again. “Just remember it was my idea to get Father’s revolver, and I’m a better shot than you.”

Cassie didn’t have to be reminded Rachel was a hoyden who loved to ride and shoot with their older brothers. But that was all the more reason for Rachel stay inside, away from the temptation to do something impulsive. Besides, Cassie was the oldest of the ones left at home. It was her responsibility to protect them.

“I mean it,” she snapped, hoping this time Rachel would listen to her.

There was long, dramatic sigh. “I’m going.” She jerked door shut, making Cassandra jump in spite of herself.

She held her breath, listening for the sounds of Rachel’s retreating footsteps. Good. Her sister was gone. Cassie exhaled slowly, steeling her rattled nerves as the soldiers brought their horses to a stop in front of the porch.

She regretted now she hadn’t practiced shooting a gun when she’d had the chance, instead of making excuses not to try. She’d always hated shooting. Just the thought of doing so made her quiver. The smell of gunpowder would burn her nose and the kickback would leave her wrist numb and shoulder aching for days. Being courageous alone in her father’s office was easy, but facing down Union soldiers was another story. Yet what else could she do? Somehow she had to protect her younger sister, her little niece and her very pregnant sister-in-law.

With her head held high, Cassandra willed herself not to let her fear show. If she got lucky, maybe they’d believe she was a crack shot. When pigs fly. She fumbled with the revolver. Was one bullet going to be enough? That was all she could find. Dear heavens, how had she ever convinced herself this was a good plan?

A tall man in an officer’s uniform started toward the porch. He had a powerful build, with a ruggedly handsome face. Thick, tawny-gold hair curled slightly around the collar of his blue coat. Sweet mercy, did he have to be so handsome? What the devil was wrong with her that she could even think about that?

Her mouth dried as he strode purposefully up the four brick steps to the top of the porch. With shaky hands, she raised the revolver, aiming it at his heart. Yet he didn’t seem worried as he slowly lifted his arms in the air, moving toward her with his unreadable amber eyes locked with hers. Their calmness terrified her. Why wasn’t he threatened by the gun in her hand? The pulse pounded in her ears as each step brought their inevitable confrontation closer.

When he stood just a few steps away, his stony expression gradually changed. His amber eyes lowered, perusing the weapon she held in her trembling hands. She had to act nonchalant. Heaven help her.

“You get back or I’ll blow you off this porch.” She waved the gun at him in a “move away” gesture.

He didn’t retreat as she’d hoped. Instead, he kept inching toward her, watching her with cool, assessing eyes. “I mean you no harm.” His voice had a deep, resonate, velvet quality that sent a shiver through her. “I just want to talk, angel. That’s all.”

That wasn’t all, and she damn well knew it. Cassandra’s hands shook more from fear than the cold. Chin up. Remember others are counting on you.

“I’m not fooling. If you come any closer, your men will be burying you this afternoon.” Her voice began quivering, despite her attempts to sound threatening. Legs braced apart, she lifted her chin, proudly staring the stranger down.

She almost lost her breakfast when he moved right up in front of her, so close the cold steel barrel pressed against his massive chest.

She squeezed the trigger, and to her horror, nothing happened. What the blazes… She flinched when he leaned over closer, whispering, “I’ll keep your secret this time, angel, but next time you aim a gun at someone’s heart, I recommend you cock it first. It won’t fire unless you do.”