Steamy historical romance set in the raw and wild west.
Marshal in Petticoats
Halsey Brothers Series Book 1
by Paty Jager
Genre: Steamy Historical Western Romance
After accidentally shooting a bank robber, Darcy Duncan becomes marshal of a town as accident-prone as herself. Darcy's taken care of her younger brother the last five years, and she's not about to take orders from a corrupt mayor or a handsome drifter, whose curiosity could end her career as a marshal and take away their security.
Gil
Halsey arrives in Galena looking for his boss's son turned outlaw.
Getting the young man back to the ranch will seal the foreman's job.
When he discovers the town's new marshal is a passionate woman with
high regard for family, he turns to protecting her. Darcy reunites
him with his estranged family as they romp through gold country after
outlaws.
Steamy historical romance set in the raw and wild west.
**Only .99cents!**
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The marshal crossed the room, grabbing the younger boy about the neck. They struggled as the marshal dug for the nugget in Jeremy’s pocket.
Gil leaned back in the chair, watching, wondering about the honesty of a young man who would not tell his friend he had gold. When the arm around the younger boy’s neck started to make him turn blue, Gil decided to intervene. With quickness he revealed to few people, he crossed the floor, and scooped the marshal up around the middle.
He weighed less than a saddle, but struggled like a wild cat. The dusty, worn hat fell to the floor and a thick, auburn braid tumbled down the slender back.
The marshal stopped struggling, and Gil stared at the long hair. The marshal was a girl? He loosened his grip, settling his hands on her waist. It curved in like a woman’s. He spun her around to get a good look at her face. She squirmed, and his hand slipped, cupping a firm mound under the chambray shirt. He pulled his hand back as if he’d just touched a hot pan. Yep, she was definitely a girl. From the size of the lump, the marshal was more than a girl—she was a woman.
Marshal Duncan froze, and Gil looked down into her gray eyes. He’d never experienced such a jolt. His eyes scanned the scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and watched her tongue flick out to wet rose-colored lips. Why hadn’t he noticed those feminine qualities before? ’Cuz, you weren’t looking, echoed through his head as he stared down at her.
“Hey!” Jeremy punched him in the side. “Get away from my sister!”
The boy slapped a hand over his mouth and looked at Gil with scared, wide eyes. In a whisper he added, “You ain’t going to tell, are you?”
Gil willed himself to look at the boy and not the flushed face of the woman taking a step away from him. The way she’d kept her hat tipped so no one could really see her face made sense. She could hide her body under baggy men’s clothes, but a face as angelic as hers would be hard to pass off as a boy if people were allowed to stare overly long.
“Why don’t you want people to know your female? Does Craven know?” Gil stared at the marshal. The resemblance to her brother was uncanny, but there were definite womanly attributes that any true-blooded male should have seen.
“Mr. Craven doesn’t know.” She stepped forward and clutched his shirtfront. “You won’t tell, will you? This is the best deal we’ve had since our parents passed.”
He gently removed her hands from his shirt and backed up. “I won’t tell.” Gil knew the two were desperate for food and a place to stay. Letting on the marshal was a woman would only put them back out on the street. He’d rather keep an eye on them and know they were fed and had a place to sleep than tell the town a young, accident-prone woman protected them. He needed to think this through. Had the prisoner heard the truth about the marshal? Would that complicate things? He swore under his breath and walked out of the building.
What happened? One moment he thought she was a greenhorn boy and the next he fantasized about her soft pink lips. Gil walked into the saloon still in a daze and ordered a whiskey. The dance hall girl he favored sashayed over, but he didn’t want to think about her. His hand still tingled from touching Marshal Darcy Duncan.
Outlaw in Petticoats
Halsey Brothers Book 2
Maeve Loman has had her heart crushed before; she isn't about to have it happen again. When she takes Zeke Halsey up on his offer to help her discover the truth behind her father's disappearance, she's sure she can control her traitorous body and not fall for the man's considerable charms.
Zeke
Halsey has wanted Maeve Loman since he first set eyes on the prickly
schoolteacher. Even as she thwarts his advances, he sees the desire
burning in her eyes. Offering to help her find her father, he hopes
to prove he’s not going anywhere. Captured by outlaws, they soon
realize how much they're willing to sacrifice for the other.
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Zeke Halsey patted the pocket on his vest. The tintype his new sister-in-law, Darcy, found while kidnapped by outlaws resided close to his heart. How the likeness of his parents ended up in a pile of loot in the outlaw’s hideout had all the Halsey brothers perplexed.
He took the stairs of the boarding house in McEwen two at a time. He hadn’t laid his eyes on Maeve Loman the pretty, prickly school marm since his youngest brother Gil showed up at the family mine with a woman dressed like a boy and her brother.
After witnessing his baby brother marry Darcy, Zeke was more determined than ever to get Maeve to come around to his thinking. He planned to start by showing her he came from good stock and put one more reason for her to reject his marriage proposal behind them.
Maeve met him at the door.
He stared taking in her perfection. Her black hair glimmered like a raven’s wing in the sunlight.
Her delicious pink lips, he hadn’t sampled near enough, fluttered a moment before straightening into a firm line. She’d wanted to give him a welcoming smile and thought about it. That was the problem with Maeve, she thought too darn much.
“I brought something for you to see,” he said, removing his hat and following her swaying backside into the parlor.
She sat primly on the wooden chair and gazed up at him. “What did you bring?”
He sat, placing his hat on his knee and reached for his vest pocket. Panic widened her dark blue eyes.
When he slipped the tintype out, relief relaxed her pretty features. She’d thought he was going to propose, again. He grinned. One of these days he was going to ask her to marry him, and she wouldn’t be able to avoid answering.
“It’s a tintype of my parents. We’d thought it was lost, but Darcy, the girl who married Gil, found it.”
She took the tintype and stared at it before running her finger over the faces. Her brow furrowed, and she looked up at him. “These can’t be your parents.”
“Why can’t they be my folks? Because they’re too pretty?” Zeke watched her continue to stare at the tintype in her shaking hands. The lacy curtain in the window behind Maeve framed her form, giving her a fragile appearance.
“No. Pa said that man was his brother.”
Zeke jerked his attention from Maeve’s comely attributes back to her angular face and wide eyes. He nearly choked from her contorted expression. Memories of all the times he’d stolen a kiss and been tempted to do more drifted in his thoughts. The idea they could be kin, and something else he couldn’t place, didn’t set well with her. He saw it in her troubled, blue eyes.
“That can’t be.” He bolted out of the sturdy, yet comfortable chair, he favored when visiting and crossed the room in two strides. Zeke stared down at the picture of his parents. “My pa didn’t have any brothers, or sisters, for that matter. They all died on the way out west. Only him and an uncle survived the trip.”
Her steely stare glimmered with unshed tears. “My pa had this tintype. It sat on our mantel. He’d look at it and tell stories of how he and his brother,” she placed a finger gently on his father’s likeness, “this man, played jokes.”
The anguish and longing in her eyes said she wasn’t making it up, but his head and heart knew she had to be.
“Come on.” He grabbed her hand and roughly pulled her to her feet.
She jerked her hand from his and glared at him. Her odd habit of curling and uncurling her fingers right about holster height caught his attention. She only did that when she was annoyed or distraught.
Miner in Petticoats
Halsey Brothers Book 3
Ethan Halsey, the oldest of the Halsey brothers, is determined to fulfill his father’s wishes to provide for his brothers. The only drawback is a feisty woman who refuses to part with the land he needs.
Aileen
Miller has had two husbands. She isn’t about to allow another man
to dictate her life or the lives of her two children. Can they work
together and achieve their goals or will their growing attraction
shatter their dreams and disrupt their families?
Steamy historical romance set in the raw and wild west.
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Ethan kept the horse at a leisurely pace. He didn’t believe the trio under the porch roof would shoot him, but the things Clay and the other men said when they found out who he was headed to talk to, niggled in the back of his mind. There was nothing cowardly about being cautious. Even if all he saw was a child, a young boy, and a tall, sturdy woman dressed in men’s clothing.
The clothing didn’t bother him. The other men had made mention of how the widow woman wore the dead husband’s clothes. Both his sisters-in-law wore britches as much as they did dresses. They allowed it made riding and working outside easier. If the widow worked the claim, she needed to wear practical clothes. And her dead husband’s would be handy and free.
He stopped his horse near a tree and dismounted, wrapping the reins around a limb.
“Afternoon,” he called, sauntering toward a cabin smaller than the one he shared with his brothers. The only difference between the two structures was the state of disrepair and the lean-to in the back.
The woman nodded, but didn’t say anything. None of them appeared hostile. The boy stared blankly. The little girl’s grin was infectious, and he found himself grinning back at her. He pulled his attention from the curly-haired imp to study the woman. She was tall. Not near his height, but she had to be gaining on six foot. The men’s clothing she wore did nothing to hide her attributes. The pants clung to her wide, round hips, and her full breasts gave the buttons on her shirt a working.
“Mrs. Miller?” he asked, extending his hand. She kept her head tipped forward just enough her face was shadowed and hidden behind the brim of the hat.
“Who be askin’?” Her voice caught his attention with its deep, lyrical tone.
“I’m Ethan Halsey. My brothers and I have a claim just over the ridge.” It aggravated him he couldn’t see her face and register how she took his words.
“Are ye lost?” The voice vibrated under his skin, causing his body to warm.
He cleared his throat. “No, I’m not lost. I’m looking for Mrs. Miller. I’m assuming that is you, since you’re the only grown woman I see here.”
“Ah m Aileen. Ah don’t fancy bein’ called Mrs. Miller.”
This disclosure piqued his curiosity. “Mrs—Aileen. I’ve come with an offer.” Her head tilted, tipping the wide-brimmed hat to the side and revealing a slip of her face.
“And what may this grand offer be?” He saw the slightest curve on one side of her lips.
“Ma’am, not to sound bossy, but I’d like to see your face as we discuss this proposition.” Her shoulders dipped slightly before she squared them, stretched her neck to its full length, and whipped the hat from her head. Copper sparks reflected off her hair as the sun lit her dark locks.
Ethan hadn’t believed the words of a cowardly man like Miles, and he was happy to see there wasn’t any kind of mark on the woman’s face, at least none put there by the devil. Her skin was abundantly sprinkled with angel kisses. That was what his mother had called the freckles on her face. Angel kisses. He’d always had a fondness for freckle-faced women and children.
“Thank you, I appreciate seeing people’s eyes when talking business.” Ethan took a step closer to the porch, waiting to be invited to the shade.
“And what be yer business?” The woman didn’t seem inclined to invite him any closer.
“I’ve scouted the land all around our claim. The five acres of your land down where Cracker Creek drops in elevation is the perfect spot to set up a stamp mill. The side of the canyon has the right slope and the water is moving fast enough to power the mill.”
“So, yer business is askin’ me to sell my land?” She clamped work-reddened hands onto those ample hips and glared at him.
Doctor in Petticoats
Halsey Brothers Book 4
Dr.
Rachel Tarkiel gave up on love after a devastating accident and
settled for a life healing others. She’s content with her situation
until handsome Clay Halsey shows up and inspires her to want
more.
Blinded by a person he considered a friend, Clay curses
his circumstances and his limitations. Meeting the intriguing Dr.
Tarkiel who shows him no pity, Clay begins to realize he is still a
whole man and he can make his own happiness.
Can their love
overcome their internal fears and the obstacles life throws at them
or will a mysterious man keep them apart forever? Suggested reading
age 18+ because of adult situations and steamy love scenes.
Steamy historical romance set in the raw and wild west.
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He used the woman’s hold to leverage off the hard, smooth bench he’d warmed the last hour. He’d been adamant Ethan leave him at the blind school and let him enroll himself. It was time he owned up to his new life.
The matron’s breathing came in coffee fetid puffs at shoulder height. That made her nearly as tall as his height of a couple inches over six feet. She set a slow pace down the hall. I’m blind, not an invalid. He stepped out at his usual pace, and her wide hips brushed against his.
“After your meeting, I’ll show you the railing on the halls and how to determine where you are.” She huffed to keep up with him. “Whoa. You’re going right past the office.”
A whoosh of air wiggled his pant leg and rustled his hair. Someone opened a door.
“Dr. Tarkiel.” The matron’s voice sweetened in a patronizing way.
Clay snickered. Must be an old geezer the woman has a crush on.
“This is our newest student, Mr. Halsey.” The matron pushed his arm forward.
He held his palm out waiting for a crippled hand to slide across. Instead, long slender fingers and a firm grip clasped his hand. Warmth radiated up his arm.
“Mr. Halsey, welcome to the Blind Institute. I hope you use all the facilities to your benefit.”
The sweet feminine tone and sincere welcome intrigued him.
“A woman doctor?” He couldn’t stop the words tumbling out his mouth.
“You’re very astute, Mr. Halsey.” A light-hearted laugh trailed away from him. Citrus wafted in the wake of her barely audible retreating steps. The eye-watering lye fumes quickly engulfed the sweet lemon scent. The citrus reminded him of the lemon drops his mother had bought with money she earned from selling knit scarves to the mercantile in winter. His mouth watered as he remembered the sweet treats, and his heart ached for the little things his mother did for her sons that as a boy he hadn’t appreciated until it was too late.
The matron dragged him forward. “You’re lucky she’s used to that reaction.”
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I’ve never met a woman doctor before.” Clay cringed. Ever since that damn dynamite had blown up in his face and taken away his sight, he couldn’t do or say anything right.
“She’s a kind heart. She’s already forgiven you.” The matron nudged him ahead.
Logger in Petticoats
Halsey Brothers Book 5
Hank Halsey believes he’s found the perfect logging crew—complete with cooks—until he discovers Kelda Neilson would rather swing an axe than flip eggs. As he sets out to prove women belong in the kitchen, he’s the one in danger of getting burned.
Strong
and stubborn, Kelda Nielsen grew up falling trees, and resents any
man who believes she’s not capable, until Hank. He treats her like
a lady and has her questioning what that means. As Kelda and Hank’s
attraction builds, she hires a cook so she can sneak out and work in
the woods. But will her deceit ruin her chance at love or will
hardheaded Hank realize it’s more than his love that puts a sparkle
in Kelda’s eye?
Steamy historical romance set in the raw and wild west.
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“If Kelda isn’t back in here in fifteen minutes you can come looking for us.” Hank said to appease Karl as he pulled on his coat,
“I don’t know what you’re worrying about. No man is going to think of Kelda in the way you’re talking.” The door hadn’t fully closed when Dag’s voice cleared the threshold.
Kelda’s shoulders drooped proving she’d heard her brother’s comment. She walked around the corner of the cookhouse to a fallen log at the backside of the building. Hank wanted to catch up to her and wrap an arm around her shoulders. She was a fine woman. Any man would be dang lucky to have her for a wife. He stood in front of her as she sat on the log, her face pointed toward the men’s logging boots on her feet.
Hank crouched in front of Kelda, tipping her face up to read her emotions. “Your brother sees you only as his sister. You’re a woman any man would be lucky to marry.”
Tears glistened in her eyes. “I’m the size and body of a man. Men want a small delicate woman.” She wiped at the tears, and her hands clutched his. “Don’t make Far keep me out of the woods. It’s all I have to make me happy.”
Pleading in her eyes and voice sucker punched Hank. “Why would you want to work alongside men in the woods? Women belong in the home.”
“I don’t care to work inside. I love the outdoors and the labor of logging. Don’t keep me out of the woods. It’s the one thing I can do well.”
The strong grip of her fingers on his proved her strength. He had no doubt she was a skilled woodsman…woman. He pried her fingers from his hands and held them between his palms. “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you in the woods. It isn’t proper for a woman to work like that. And what if you prove too weak to handle a job and someone else gets hurt?”
“Ooooo!” Her hands ripped from his grasp and rammed him in the chest. He started tipping backwards and grabbed the first thing in reach—Kelda’s arms.
He fell back into the snow dragging Kelda on top of him.
The surprise in her eyes quickly turned to interest as she gazed down into his face. Her body sprawled across Hank, pressing him into the snow. Even with the heavy clothing, her curves were evident as her relaxed body molded over his.
Hank pushed the scarf back from her face and stared into amazing eyes that glistened from the moonlight bouncing off the snow. Her gaze searched his. The rise and fall of her chest quickened. She licked her lips…
He held her head in his hands. Inch by inch, Hank drew her lips closer, wondering if the heat and passion he’d witnessed in her eyes would be in her kiss.
“Kelda!”
The male voice broke through the insanity of his actions. Hank rolled, rose to his feet, and pulled Kelda up with him.
Paty Jager is an award-winning author of 54 novels, 8 novellas, and numerous anthologies of murder mystery and western romance. All her work has Western or Native American elements in them along with hints of humor and engaging characters. Paty and her husband raise alfalfa hay in rural eastern Oregon. Riding horses and battling rattlesnakes, she not only writes the western lifestyle, she lives it.
Thank you for being part of my Halsey series tour!
ReplyDeleteAll the books sound interesting.
ReplyDeleteThank you Kim! Marshal in Petticoats is free all this month.
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