The Texas Blue Norther. Lass Small
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“There’s All Sorts Of Things We Can Do To Entertain Ourselves,”
Kyle said, licking his smile.
Lauren was twenty-seven. She knew he was being verbally clever, saying things that were salacious—Well, maybe he was a gentleman and was not salacious. Maybe he meant exactly what he said, and it was only her own wild and wicked libido that was berserk.
How did one know?
She could ask him. Are you being salacious?
If she did, he’d probably not understand and be shocked by her assumption.
She was going to have to be clever and slow in order to lead him into allowing her access to his body.…
Dear Reader,
This month, we begin HOLIDAY HONEYMOONS, a wonderful new cross-line continuity series written by two of your favorites—Merline Lovelace and Carole Buck. The series begins in October with Merline’s Halloween Honeymoon. Then, once a month right through February, look for holiday love stories by Merline and Carole—in Desire for November, Intimate Moments for December, back to Desire in January and concluding in Intimate Moments for Valentine’s Day. Sound confusing? It’s not—we’ll keep you posted as the series continues.and I personally guarantee that these books are keepers!
And there are other goodies in store for you. Don’t miss the fun as Cathie Linz’s delightful series THREE WEDDINGS AND A GIFT continues with Seducing Hunter. And Lass Small’s MAN OF THE MONTH, The Texas Blue Norther, is simply scrumptious.
Those of you who want an ultrasensuous love story need look no further than The Sex Test by Patty Salier. She’s part of our WOMEN TO WATCH program highlighting brand-new writers. Warning: this book is HOT!
Readers who can’t get enough of cowboys shouldn’t miss Anne Marie Winston’s Rancher’s Baby. And if you’re partial to a classic amnesia story (as I certainly am!), be sure to read Barbara McCauley’s delectable Midnight Bride.
And, as always, I’m here to listen to you—so don’t be afraid to write and tell me your thoughts about Desire!
Until next month,
Senior Editor
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The Texas Blue Norther
Lass Small
LASS SMALL
finds living on this planet at this time a fascinating experience. People are amazing. She thinks that to be a teller of tales of people, places and things is absolutely marvelous.
It all began quite stupidly when the car phone gave its rude beep.
Lauren Davie was by then a mature twenty-seven. She didn’t instantly reply to intrusions. She was driving out west of San Antonio, there in TEXAS, and she just wasn’t curious who would be calling.
Whoever was calling on the phone gave up. There was only the hushed song of the tires touching on the asphalt. And the wind blew, trying to tumble the portion of loose blond hair that wasn’t protected by her white golf hat.
With the car top down, she was vulnerable to the winds. She loved it. There was a feeling of freedom, of escape, to drive alone in the breezes under the sun.
But she wore driving gloves. Her golf hat with its long bill was enough shade for her face. Of course, she wore a silk blouse with long sleeves, and her silk trousers covered her legs. The silks were colored in pale shades of sand.
Her car was cream colored. The top was white.
As Lauren drove along, the radio music was interrupted. She learned there was a warning of an approaching storm.
She looked around at the uninhabited area. The trees were discreetly low. The sky was clear. The surface of the land was uneven so that it wasn’t boring. The wind was gentle if one was still. At the speed she was going, with the car’s top down, the wind was searchingly frisky and intrusive.
The sun above her was obvious and it was not screened by storm clouds. It was a perfect March day. The bluebonnets were like jewels strewn across the land in blue magic.
Lauren Davie was restless. She didn’t know what was wrong with her life. She had everything she wanted. Why was she so disgruntled? What could she target in her life with criticism?
She was busy. She helped out at the hospital and the food bank. She had almost too many friends. Those same friends were trying to marry her off. Lauren wasn’t interested in being married and nailed down. What an expression.
Because one great-grandmother had been especially frugal, Lauren had her