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Jeanmarie Hamilton

Dangerous Persuasion by Claire Adele aka Jeanmarie Hamilton

Dangerous PersuasionErotic Western Historical Romance

Available at Siren BookStrand 

Undercover Ranger Kurt MacConnor has vowed to arrest an outlaw leader and settle an old debt. Overwhelmed by guilt, he fears his own bullet may have killed a close friend in a shootout with bank robbers. He’s the last man any woman should want to settle down with and marry.

Feisty Cassie Leland carries the guilt of her mother’s death and is now determined to protect her father and their ranch from outlaws. She admits MacConnor is the most handsome man in town, but he’s not for her.

When MacConnor rescues her from the outlaws, feisty Miss Leland lands in his lap, and they’re drawn together in erotic pleasures. MacConnor endeavors to protect Cassie from the outlaws, but his passion for her may be the biggest threat.

Excerpt follows:

The bridge across the San Pedro River loomed a short distance ahead. She turned Duke onto the wooden planks. He balked, scrambled for purchase. His hooves slid and stomped on the hollow-sounding surface. His lurching action made it impossible for her to keep her balance.She lost her seat and slipped down the side of the smooth leather. She struggled for a firm hold on the saddle, but another violent motion from Duke sent her flying over the side of the bridge.

Cold water slapped her body hard as she landed face down in the river. In shocked dismay, she gasped for air, choked on the water, and stumbled to unsteady feet. In water up to her knees, her arms and hands flailing, she fought for balance against the slow-moving current.

Panic shook her at the thought of the bandits close behind. She couldn’t let those killers catch her. She had to corral Duke and climb back in the saddle—fast. She shivered and staggered toward the bank as cold water sluiced from her bodice and skirt. She wiped water from her face. Her palms smarted from scrapes caused by sand and pebbles where her gloves had torn.

The thunder of horses’ hooves drew nearer. Stumbling, she pivoted on her waterlogged boots and looked back. Stark terror threatened to overwhelm her at the sight of a man riding toward her. He wore a tan colored hat, tan shirt, and blue trousers. She couldn’t tell who he was from this distance. He could be one of the outlaws.

Tall in the saddle, dark and menacing, had he fired his gun at her? She had to get away. A big patch of white covered his horse’s face. Wait. She’d know that horse anywhere. Diablo. Kurt MacConnor’s paint stallion, raced toward her.

She sloshed toward the bank, searching for shelter. The explosion of small arms and the thunder of hooves sounded close. Too late. She turned to face the threat and squared her shoulders to meet her fate.

“Get ready,” he shouted, the urgency in his voice not lost on her.

Heavens, it would have to be Mr. MacConnor. As he barreled toward her, she spread her feet apart and widened her stance, poised to grab hold and swing up behind him.

Diablo plunged into the river. Water sprayed in a fan like sparkling prisms of sunshine all around him.

Mr. MacConnor reached down and caught her beneath her arms. A gasp escaped her as he swept her up onto his lap. Tuckedin front of him with her feet dangling to one side, she wondered why he hadn’t pulled her up behind him. Gunfire blasted ever nearer. Now she understood. She slid her arms around Kurt MacConnor’s ribs and gripped his heated, solid torso like a lifeline. 

Diablo never faltered. His strong legs splashed through the slow current as he carried them to shore and galloped toward town. She clung to Mr. MacConnor’s coat and looked back for Duke. “My horse!”

“Got to get you out of here. Horse is on his own.”

Even as apprehension forced her to wonder at Mr. MacConnor’s intentions, she saw that Duke raced after them. Uneasy relief filled her at the sight. “He’s following.” Unfortunately, she saw several of themen only a few hundred feet behind Duke.

 He appeared darkly dangerous and handsome as usual, with the wind tugging at the midnight hair beneath his hat brim. She sat on his lap soaked through, drenching him as water streamed from her hair and her favorite riding habit.

She held tight while his mount galloped toward town. Her mind whirled with questions. Why hadn’t she noticed him somewhere on the road? What was he doing out here when his office was in town?

Every now and then, she’d noticed him riding or walking through Leland Valley. As she clung to him now, she contemplated the cold, hard look in his gray eyes. By his chilling demeanor, she figured Kurt MacConnor could be counted on to protect her. Surely, he wasn’t involved with those violent lawbreakers.

He glanced down at her. “You all right?”

The angry sound of his voice gave her pause. “Yes, I’m fine.” She considered his piercing gaze, his eyes more silver than gray. With a deep breath, she inhaled the scent of damp horses and leather, hard-working man and shaving soap. Startled by the sudden desire to rest her face against his neck, her heart thundered in her breast, and she stiffened. Freighter, ladies’ man, and who knew what else? Mr. MacConnor was not the proper sort.

“Keep your head down,” he barked.

Cassie glanced over his shoulder first, then followed his bidding. She’d seen that Duke still ran behind them, but the men following had slowed their pursuit and stopped firing. She hoped they were afraid to ride into town. She couldn’t lose her favorite of the horses she’d been training to those evil men…or have him return home with an empty saddle and alarm her father even more.

She pushed dripping locks of hair out of her face with one hand while she held on to her rescuer with the other. Though the hot sun beat down, the wind streamed through her soggy clothing and chilled her. She shifted on his lap and felt his rigid muscles beneath her. My word.

Suddenly aware of her improper seat, she fought the disturbing sensation between her thighs in her most private parts. She eased back, striving to put some distance between them without letting go and losing her balance. His gaze remained fixed on the road ahead.

After a short while, he glanced over his shoulder. “We’re close enough to town. They won’t follow.” He slowed his horse to a lope.

“Thank you for coming to my rescue. Dam—darn those drifters. If they hadn’t been trespassing on my dad’s land, this wouldn’t have happened.”

When he turned his head, those angry gray eyes locked on hers with a dangerous glitter.

Available in: Microsoft Reader, HTML, Mobipocket, EPUB, Adobe Acrobat
Dangerous Persuasion, our now! Siren-Bookstrand
Guardian of Her Heart, out now! Siren-BookStrand 
Moonlight Desperado, Siren-BookStrand


One couple’s Texas Victorian Experience

by Jeanmarie Hamilton

My great grandmother, Anna Ihnken, was born during the Civil War in Castroville, Texas. She was one of the younger daughters of the woman who inspired my short story, “Are You Going to the Dance?” in the anthology, Northern Roses and Southern Belles. Anna married Joseph Dwyer of San Antonio. The son of Judge Dwyer of San Antonio, he was a law enforcement officer for a while, and as a sheriff he worked with other sheriffs at that time in the early 1880s including Bat Masterson who was a friend of his. My grandmother used to tell us she remembered Masterson’s visits when she was a young girl, and they would sit on the veranda where she joined them to listen to the men trade stories.
After Anna and Joseph married in the early 1880s, Joseph decided to buy some land in the Fort Davis area of Texas and raise sheep. He bought land and Anna lived in the small home they had on the property far from town. At times Joseph was away from home. He hired an elderly Indian man named Ynez to watch over Anna. The cattlemen in the Fort Davis area didn’t appreciate sheep. After Joseph had to take a group of drunken, threatening cowboys to the sheriff’s office in town late one night by himself, and the sheep were cut off from the only available water where they grazed, Joseph decided to take Anna back to San Antonio. She named her baby daughter, my grandmother, Ynez Marie, in honor of the Indian who had been her bodyguard on their Fort Davis sheep ranch.
My great grandfather’s next enterprise was to bring Irish laundresses to San Antonio. He bought expensive laundry machines. After the Irish women arrived in San Antonio to begin working in his business, it wasn’t too long before they all married men in San Antonio and left the laundry business. My great grandmother was forced to sell her silverware in order for them to pay for the laundry machines.

Joseph was appointed to the job of Customs Officer in El Paso. It was a government appointment then and probably the result of his father’s connections. Joseph and Anna moved to El Paso where their only son was born. When Joseph received a third gift of money from his family, who came originally from Ireland, Anna insisted they have a home built in El Paso. My mother remembers the small home as being a lovely Victorian style cottage. About that time, a neighborhood named Sunset Heights was built nearby on a hill overlooking the Rio Grande. These Victorian homes are still in demand in El Paso in Sunset Heights.

My great grandmother, Anna, was a founding member of the Woman’s Club of El Paso, part of a group of women who were instrumental in cleaning up old El Paso. Their story is told in a book by Mary S. Cunningham, titled The Woman’s Club of El Paso, Its First Thirty Years. This book is an important recording of the history of El Paso at that time, for anyone writing about the old west and the Victorian period.

Jeanmarie Hamilton
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