This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Callie will be awarding an Ebook copy of Emma’s Journey to a randomly drawn commenter at every stop, and a grand prize of a $25 Amazon or B&N GC to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Federal Marshal Wesley Shannon of Denton, Kansas, has no idea where this woman with the strange clothing and way of speaking came from. Since he fights his own inner demons, the last thing he needs is an attraction to a woman who has given him no clear idea who she is.
But when danger arrives in the form of stagecoach hold ups where drivers and passengers are being killed, Anna torments Wes with plans to help him bring in the outlaws.
Will Wes be able to keep Anna out of harm’s way, or will his attraction to her distract him enough that they are both in danger?
Enjoy the following excerpt:
Anna was quiet on the walk to the café. Her eyes darted back and forth as she took in the sights around her, all the time fiddling with her ring, spinning the silver and black circle round and round. She continued to draw in deep breaths and chew on her lower lip, occasionally muttering ‘not possible’ under her breath, as if fighting an internal battle. Her natural color seemed to have paled, the light dusting of freckles more prominent.
Once they’d settled in their seats at the café and ordered dried apple pie and coffee, Wes rested his forearms on the table. “Tell me a little bit about this ‘Tulsa.’”
Anna cleared her throat. “It’s in Oklahoma.” She flinched when he shrugged, still not sure what she was talking about.
“Oklahoma. You know, the state south of Kansas?”
He narrowed his eyes. “The only thing south of us is Indian Territory, then Texas.”
“No,” she whispered, her eyes round as saucers.
Wes nodded at the waitress as she placed cups of coffee and two cuts of pie in front of them. She glanced at Anna, who stared straight ahead, taking in shallow breaths.
Once the waitress left, Anna nodded, as if she’d made a decision. “Wes, can I ask you something?”
She looked him in the eye, seeming to draw strength from within herself. “What year is this?”
His forkful of pie stopped halfway to his mouth. “What?”
Anna licked her lips and cleared her throat. “Just tell me, please. What year is this?”
He frowned and lowered the fork. “It’s eighteen hundred and seventy. Why?”
Then he leapt forward as Anna’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and her slack body slid to the floor.
About the Author:www.CallieHutton.com.
She currently lives in Oklahoma with her husband and adult children who move in and out with alarming regularity. Add three rescue dogs and the household is complete—and full. She enjoys hearing from her readers, and would love to have you visit her on Facebook or @calliehutton.
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