| CATCH UP | stories infused with their favorite romantic genres: paranormal, suspense, and erotica.
ccromance.com Enjoy an excerpt from The Runaway Wife The Runaway Wife CiCi Cordelia Western Historical SAM . . . Samuel “Sam” Singleton has set aside his unsavory past, as a riverboat gambler and sometimes hired gun, to take on employment as security for Knight Gleason’s Gambling Galleria in Little Creede. Sam and Knight go back a ways, and Sam figures he owes Knight for some valuable mentorship. Then he meets a stowaway thief in the Galleria kitchen, and it changes the direction of his life. IZZY . . . Isadora “Izzy” McDougall is on the run from a dangerous family situation. On the road for days, hungry and exhausted, she takes shelter in a desperate bid to find food. Instead, Sam finds her. SAFER, TOGETHER . . . Sam’s never been the nurturing type, but Izzy’s sweetness and innocent bravery touches his heart. He finds himself willing to protect her from her scheming family at any cost, even if it means tying himself down with a wife. BONUS CONTENT: CHRISTMAS IN SILVER COUNTRY 18 | UncagedBooks.com
(Robert and Maggie’s Story) Robert Blackwood comes to Magnolia Sanders’ rescue when she’s lost in a snowstorm. Taking shelter in an abandoned cabin, he fights his rising desire for the innocent beauty, while trying to keep them alive. Excerpt Searching for the pie server, a thump and a muffled oath brought Sam up short. He spun toward the sound, coming from the cavernous pantry where most of the dry goods and supplies were stored. Silently he advanced across the large room, drawing his gun as a precaution. He wouldn’t put it past some drunken sot to stagger in from one of the gaming rooms, searching for money, thinking any Galleria staff would be dumb enough to keep a safe in here. The pantry door stood open an inch. The whisper of rustling and more muttering hovered in the air. Tensing, he readied for possible danger. Thumbing the latch, he brought up his gun arm and yanked, hard. A mound of tattered clothes and dark curls tumbled out of the opening, landing on the floor at his feet. What the—? Sam bent and caught a thin, flailing arm, jerking the thief upright. From the cracked, scuffed boots to the downcast head of tangled, choppy hair, this was no gambler desperate for extra coin, only a young boy starving for something to eat. Narrow-shouldered, dressed in torn trousers and a shirt studded with burdock stickers, the kid could probably cram an entire cherry pie into his gullet and his britches would still slide down his backside. Tamping down any feelings of sympathy, he marched the now-struggling pantry poacher across the kitchen and shoved him into the nearest chair. The boy tried to bolt, so Sam gripped one bony shoulder. “Stay put and tell me who you are.” A dirt-encrusted face raised to his. “Let me go!” He frowned, taking a more focused look at the boy.
