A Bargained-For Bride by Marcia Lynn McClure (Novella)

 

Excerpt!

“You’re the sweetest girl in Mourning Dove Creek, you know?” Jack mumbled as he paused in kissing Jilly a moment.

Jilly smiled. “And you’re the handsomest man in Mourning Dove Creek, you know,” she flirted in return.

Jack smiled. “I do know,” he said.

Jilly giggled. Jack Taylor was so predictable—and a little conceited. He really did think he was the handsomest man in Mourning Dove—and he was, for the most part.

Secretly, however, if Jilly ever allowed herself to be completely honest about it (which she tried to avoid), there was one other man in Mourning Dove who always crossed her mind when the subject of the handsomest man in town arose. Yet there was no lingering on thinking of that man—no sirree! Not for a moment! Not for any reason—ever. And so Jilly just kept telling Jack that he was the handsomest man in Mourning Dove Creek. Besides, it was almost true—being that the other man lived outside of town and not right in town the way Jack did

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Author Marcia Lynn McClure

A Bargained-For Bride by Marcia Lynn McClure (Novella)

Excerpt!

“You’re the sweetest girl in Mourning Dove Creek, you know?” Jack mumbled as he paused in kissing Jilly a moment.

Jilly smiled. “And you’re the handsomest man in Mourning Dove Creek, you know,” she flirted in return.

Jack smiled. “I do know,” he said.

Jilly giggled. Jack Taylor was so predictable—and a little conceited. He really did think he was the handsomest man in Mourning Dove—and he was, for the most part.

Secretly, however, if Jilly ever allowed herself to be completely honest about it (which she tried to avoid), there was one other man in Mourning Dove who always crossed her mind when the subject of the handsomest man in town arose. Yet there was no lingering on thinking of that man—no sirree! Not for a moment! Not for any reason—ever. And so Jilly just kept telling Jack that he was the handsomest man in Mourning Dove Creek. Besides, it was almost true—being that the other man lived outside of town and not right in town the way Jack did

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A Good-Lookin' Man by Marcia Lynn McClure

Excerpt

However, in an instant—in less than a breath or the bat of an eyelid—the elusive pepper spray hiding somewhere in her purse was all but forgotten. For standing before her—right there before her, not three feet away—was the best-looking, most gorgeous, handsomest man she had ever seen in all her life!

“No, seriously,” she thought out loud with lingering bewilderment at how perfectly stunning the man standing before her was, wearing a worn pair of Levi’s, dusty cowboy boots, and a short-sleeved, plaid-print, snap-up shirt that hung open, revealing a bronzed, perfectly sculpted torso that was simply a mass of muscles. She was so unsettled by the man’s appearance that she wasn’t sure whether she was whispering aloud to herself or her car.

Either way, the man asked, “Beg your pardon, ma’am?”

“Oh…oh, nothing,” Fairlee said as she began rummaging in her purse again. But the man’s presence and appearance had entirely rattled her. As her awe-inspired brain obviously quit sending out instructions to the rest of her body, Fairlee felt her purse slip from her hands—watched in humiliated dismay as its contents tumbled out and scattered over the shoulder of the road.

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Amazing comments by Amazon Reviewers:

"This is the book to read if you want a short book that is a fun romance. It leaves you smiling from reading it. The characters are happy and bring laughter to each other and the reader. It is a clean romance."

"It was just such a sweet, fast-paced, light-hearted, fun, perfect romance. Yes, it is going on the Perfect Romance Shelf. It must. I am really loving Marcia's books that I have been able to read. She writes the best romances."

"I loved that this romance story didn't focus on just the romance the entire time. I was so delighted watching how this loving family cherished each other..."

A Good-Lookin' Man by Marcia Lynn McClure

However, in an instant—in less than a breath or the bat of an eyelid—the elusive pepper spray hiding somewhere in her purse was all but forgotten. For standing before her—right there before her, not three feet away—was the best-looking, most gorgeous, handsomest man she had ever seen in all her life!

“No, seriously,” she thought out loud with lingering bewilderment at how perfectly stunning the man standing before her was, wearing a worn pair of Levi’s, dusty cowboy boots, and a short-sleeved, plaid-print, snap-up shirt that hung open, revealing a bronzed, perfectly sculpted torso that was simply a mass of muscles. She was so unsettled by the man’s appearance that she wasn’t sure whether she was whispering aloud to herself or her car.

Either way, the man asked, “Beg your pardon, ma’am?”

“Oh…oh, nothing,” Fairlee said as she began rummaging in her purse again. But the man’s presence and appearance had entirely rattled her. As her awe-inspired brain obviously quit sending out instructions to the rest of her body, Fairlee felt her purse slip from her hands—watched in humiliated dismay as its contents tumbled out and scattered over the shoulder of the road.

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Author Marcia Lynn McClure

Marcia Lynn McClure’s intoxicating succession of novels, novellas, and e-books, has established her as one of the most favored and engaging authors of true romance. Her unprecedented forte in weaving captivating stories of western, medieval, regency, and contemporary amour void of brusque intimacy has earned her the title “The Queen of Kissing.”

Marcia, who was born in Albuquerque, New Mexico, has spent her life intrigued with people, history, love, and romance. A wife, mother, grandmother, family historian, poet, and author, Marcia Lynn McClure spins her tales of splendor for the sake of offering respite through the beauty, mirth, and delight of a worthwhile and wonderful story.

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Midnight Masquerade by Marcia Lynn McClure - Excerpt!

Stavos Voronin was not as blind-eyed as many nobles and royals. Evony’s physical gestures—even the simplest movement of her hands—revealed that she had not always been destitute. The same was true of the children—of their polished manners and the boy’s knowledge of horses and tendency to be bold and fearless of strangers.

Ah yes, Stavos enjoyed a good mystery. After all, interest in the inexplicable circumstances surrounding the royals of Abawyth was the very thing that had lured him to the kingdom—the enigma of Abawyth’s twelve sleepy princesses. And yet now—now his mind was all the more intrigued. Not only was the obscurity of what had caused the profound and baffling torpidity of Abawyth’s princesses laid out before him, but also he found his curiosity intensely piqued over the riddle surrounding the very lovely Evony and her siblings.

As Stavos strode through the village resting on the outskirts of Abawyth Castle, his mind reeled with possibilities. His musings were drawn back to why he had come to Abawyth at all—to solve the conundrum surrounding the twelve beautiful princesses of Abawyth kingdom—to solve the seemingly impenetrable crux and thereby win the hand of one of Abawyth’s princesses, as his father, King Letholdus of Ethiarien, had commanded.

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Excerpt!

She was tired—oh so very, very tired. Never—not in all her life—had Evony Elorietta known such thoroughgoing fatigue. As she trudged out of the dark woods still veiled in the shadows of early sunrise, out across the expanse of cold, dew-drenched grass and onto the main road of the village, Evony wondered how she would ever endure a day that was only just beginning. Every bone in her body ached—every muscle throbbed in misery, every inch of her flesh begged for respite. Yet there would be none—at least not until she had finished her stitching—finished the near thirteen hours of sewing she now faced under the ever observant, incessantly critical eye of seamstress Agnes Teche.

After such a long, chilled, and sleepless night spent in watching—peering through the darkness and into the rooms of the inn in the woods, until her eyes were too dry to watch any longer—after listening to the shallow, often vile conversations, until her ears hurt from the foul ferment of it—Evony dreaded sewing for Mrs. Teche more than ever before. The woman was a banshee of an employer. And yet, she was grateful Mrs. Teche had had the keen eye to recognize Evony’s superior skills with needle and thread—for how else would Evony have managed to feed Mikol and Tressa—to shelter them—to keep them hidden?

Midnight Masquerade by Marcia Lynn McClure

Stavos Voronin was not as blind-eyed as many nobles and royals. Evony’s physical gestures—even the simplest movement of her hands—revealed that she had not always been destitute. The same was true of the children—of their polished manners and the boy’s knowledge of horses and tendency to be bold and fearless of strangers.

Ah yes, Stavos enjoyed a good mystery. After all, interest in the inexplicable circumstances surrounding the royals of Abawyth was the very thing that had lured him to the kingdom—the enigma of Abawyth’s twelve sleepy princesses. And yet now—now his mind was all the more intrigued. Not only was the obscurity of what had caused the profound and baffling torpidity of Abawyth’s princesses laid out before him, but also he found his curiosity intensely piqued over the riddle surrounding the very lovely Evony and her siblings.

As Stavos strode through the village resting on the outskirts of Abawyth Castle, his mind reeled with possibilities. His musings were drawn back to why he had come to Abawyth at all—to solve the conundrum surrounding the twelve beautiful princesses of Abawyth kingdom—to solve the seemingly impenetrable crux and thereby win the hand of one of Abawyth’s princesses, as his father, King Letholdus of Ethiarien, had commanded.

Amazon * Barnes & Noble * Kindle

   

Author Marcia Lynn McClure

Marcia Lynn McClure’s intoxicating succession of novels, novellas, and e-books, has established her as one of the most favored and engaging authors of true romance. Her unprecedented forte in weaving captivating stories of western, medieval, regency, and contemporary amour void of brusque intimacy has earned her the title “The Queen of Kissing.”