Satin Boots #MFRWhooks

​Six Short Western Romances 
By Holly Bargo 
​Available At Amazon 

Enjoy these sweet, clean romances set in the American Old West:

​ANGELS HIGH: A woman who makes her living by winning at a man’s game learns to expect trouble, especially when the stakes are high. But when trouble finds her this time, Angelica Durant gets more than she bargained for.

THE MAIL ORDER BRIDE'S CHOICE: Looking to improve her circumstances, an indigent woman travels across the country as a mail order bride to meet a fiancé who has plans for her other than marriage.

COMING HOME: Life is hard. No one knows this better than Dessie Humphrey who’s trying to hold onto the family farm. When aid comes in the form of a wanted gunslinger, she’s in no position to refuse.

PRIDE AND PEACE: It’s an open secret on the Lazy Five that Jessie North is a woman, but that doesn’t stop Daniel Harper from reacting badly when he learns about it. Can he overcome his prejudice when the proud half-breed saves his life?

RESURRECTION: Undertakers bury the dead; they don’t resurrect bodies left for dead. But that’s exactly what Antonio DiCarlo does when a lovely Swedish immigrant lands on his doorstep.

THE RANCHER'S FIRST LOVE: When a gravely wounded Chinese woman collapses on Clint Cheswick’s front porch, he doesn’t expect to compete with his half-breed foreman for her affection.

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Excerpt from Angels High 

“Good morning, Miss Durand.” The smooth voice of Jesse Cordoba behind her interrupted her thoughts as she looked over the meager selection of books displayed on a single shelf. “You look lovely today.”

Disappointed in the paltry selection of reading material, Angelica looked up at the handsome gambler and gave him a polite smile, an empty smile that meant absolutely nothing. “Why, Mr. Cordoba, it’s delightful to make your acquaintance again. What brings you to this fine establishment this beautiful morning?”

He held up a tin of tobacco. “Replenishing my supplies.”

She peered at it and recognized the brand. “Ah, my Cousin Horace favors that particular blend.”

“Whenever I stay in a location for more than a few weeks, I have it shipped to me from New Orleans,” he said.

“New Orleans is a fascinating city. I consider it my home,” she replied and reached for a book on the shelf. It was dusty. She glanced at the cover and flipped through the first few pages. She murmured, “Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.” She looked at Jesse and asked, “Have you read any of his work?”

“No, I can’t say as I have,” Jesse admitted, looking haughty and superior, a man who did not sully his mind with such frivolous things as fiction.

She turned that polite, empty smile on him again. “Well, I suppose I’ll just have to take a chance.” She glanced at the eight other books languishing on the shelf. “I’ve already read Rudyard Kipling’s work. Immensely entertaining.”

Jesse accompanied her as she headed toward the counter to pay for the book. He said, “I am surprised at your choice of purchase. You look like the kind of woman to take great interest in ribbons and lace.”

Expression turning frosty, she turned toward him and asked, “Do I look like I need further embellishment, sir?”

The corners of the man’s mouth curled upward a tiny bit as he leaned toward her and whispered into her ear, “You are quite aware that your beauty needs no improvement, madam. I should like to see it unfettered by cloth.”

Cheeks flushing at his effrontery, Angelica leaned away from him. “Sir, you are impertinent. You should not say such things to me.”

He chuckled, a dark, sensual sound. “Madam, you cannot expect me to think you untouched. You sat in a saloon for over an hour and watched our game before summoning the brass courage to join us. You’re no delicate lady.”

Angelica’s expression congealed into icy disdain. “Nor am I a prostitute.”

He chuckled again and ran a finger down her cheek before she could avoid the touch. “Oh, I’m sure you don’t charge for it and I know I never pay for it.”

Angelica’s hand whipped out and slapped him in offense. “Sir! You are insulting.”

A shadow loomed over them and a heavy hand settled over Jesse’s right shoulder.

“Don’t insult the lady,” a baritone voice growled.