STEALING HER HEART
In Paradise Pines, real men didn't read romance much less write it. That is until Liam O'Toole comes to town. Unfortunately using a woman's identity to write under might get him hung. Because of a misunderstanding, a murder charge could put a rope around his neck for his own murder.
Margaret Hennessey's homemade biscuits have homesick miners flocking to her table. To her utter frustration a misguided thief is stealing her biscuits only to pay with a romantically written IOU. When the town cook dies, the townsfolk need her to take over the cafe kitchen.
An intrigue involving hidden gold and a band of renegade outlaws drives Liam to become the hero he's always written in his books. How else can he save not only his muse but the fiery redheaded biscuit maker who's not only his muse but the woman he just might call his happily ever after.
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"Wherever ya are ya dirty rotten thief, I hope ya choke on me food."
Her beauty stole his breath, but her quick temper sealed his fate. He'd found his heroine. She stood so close he could have reached through the thick brush and touched her, but at the moment he struggled to breathe.
An older man stepped from the tent's interior and rushed toward her. "Margaret, what's going on?"
She stuffed the IOU into her apron pocket. "A biscuit bandit is prowling these woods, Da. He stole one off me plate, the scoundrel."
Her father reached inside the tent and pulled out a shotgun. He checked to make sure the chambers were loaded. "Don't ya worry, daughter, I'll put buckshot in his behind."
Not liking where the old man's actions headed, Liam hurried back through the woods and didn't stop until he reached the river. He sat on the bank and stuffed the rest of the biscuit into his mouth. Damn but that was good. He wiped the crumbs off his face with the back of his sleeve. In fact, he'd never tasted anything like it before. He would risk everything, including his life, to eat another. Maybe not today, but he'd be back first thing tomorrow.
He couldn't stop thinking about the redhead with the fiery temper. Before he'd left Dublin, he'd loved his share of beautiful women, but none of them compared to this daughter of Ireland. Her father called her Margaret. Hmmm. Margaret? Maggie? Meg? Yes, that was it. He would name his new heroine Meg.
Excited he'd finally found the inspiration for his heroine, Liam wanted to write. He hiked down the dusty road into town. The fresh mountain air stirred his muse to a frenzy. At least today it did. It amazed him how this beauty could conjure up all kinds of ideas, most of them about writing -- a few not so creative, but a lot more enjoyable to think about.