CALEB by EMMA LANG
SPREADING THE CALEB LOVE THE
ENTIRE MONTH OF FEBRUARY
Caleb blurb:
A
Texas Ranger, a lady blacksmith, a fierce passion, a dangerous game.
Caleb
Graham has spent the last four years in too many dangerous situations to count.
As a Texas Ranger, he knows no fear, or at least he never shows it. When he’s sent
to force a blacksmith off government seized property, he runs face to face into
the woman who will change his life.
Aurora
Foster grew up on the very land the obnoxious Ranger is trying to throw her off
of. Her parents and her husband died for it and there is no chance she would
leave without a fight. A lady blacksmith might be an anomaly but she has the
strength of the steel she forges and the courage to fight for what she believes
is right.
When Aurora
Life
turns upside down and sideways for Caleb and Aurora, caught in a game neither
of them expected while they desperately try to save the boy who was lost to his
family. Pursued and hunted, the three of them ride for the Circle Eight ranch.
The unlikely pair of rescuers fight their attraction and for their lives.
Caleb Excerpt:
READ AN EXCERPT
Caleb
was pleasantly full of meatloaf and green beans, and even a piece of peach pie.
The restaurant in the tiny town of Marks Creek was a treasure. He hadn’t had
such a wonderful meal outside of the Circle Eight. He was in a good mood,
surprisingly good.
Not
only had he located Rory Foster but he had directions to the smithy. The
mission was by far the easiest he’d ever been sent on. Now he had to convince
Foster to leave the property. Texas
It
should be easy as the ride out to Foster’s smithy. Regardless of what a good
mood he was in, Caleb made sure his pistol and rifle were both loaded. He was
about to evict a man of what was perceived as “his” property. There would be
resistance, but if Caleb was smart, he would control the situation from the
moment he stepped foot on the property.
The
area was beautiful with rolling hills, a plump creek running freely and the kind
of thick grass cattle could get fat on. It was clear why the smithy stayed when
the Republic of Texas
He
followed the smell of smoke and rode up to a square building with a sign that
read “Foster’s Smithy” in faded red letters. It was a typical blacksmith’s
shop, with large windows controlled by hinged wood panels. The smoke and heat
could get fierce inside the building. There was an enormous stone forge inside
and a large number of tools scattered around, not to mention an anvil that
probably weighed more than a team of horses. It was a solid shop and Caleb felt
a pinch of guilt for arriving to take it all away from Foster.
He
dismounted and finally noticed the tiny shack in the shadows behind the smithy.
It wasn’t quite a house, but it did have a door, one tiny window and a smoke
stack, which meant there was a heat source inside, likely a stove of some sort.
It must be where the blacksmith lived, modest as it was. There was great care
taken in the actual smithy which told Caleb the man might be more difficult to
remove than he expected.
“Foster?”
Caleb walked into the larger building. The forge wasn’t fired up, the embers
glowed orange. “Is anybody here?”
He
hoped like hell nobody told the man there was a marshal on the way. If so, his
job got even harder. Caleb kept his hand on his pistol as he walked around the
building. Whoever the blacksmith was, he had skills. The iron work was top
notch, even in the pieces that weren’t finished yet.
“Who
are you?” A woman’s voice startled him from his perusal.
He
turned to find a man wearing a leather apron and cap, and trousers that had
seen better days. Caleb shook his head and frowned at him.
“Ranger
Caleb Graham. Who are you?” He couldn’t equate the husky woman’s voice with the
blacksmith. Was he hiding her in the apron?
“Aurora
Foster.”
The
voice came from the man’s mouth. The ground shifted beneath his feet as
realization hit him. Sweet heaven above. Rory Foster. Aurora Foster. Holy hell.
The blacksmith he was there to evict was a woman? When he got back
to headquarters, he’d give his commander a piece of his mind about this
particular assignment.
“You’re
a woman.”
“I
can see why you’re a crack man of the law, ranger.” She raised one brow.
“You’re trespassing.”
He
swallowed his response to her sarcasm. She definitely wasn’t a wilting flower
but the leather apron should have told him that. “You have that backwards, Mrs.
Foster. You are the one trespassing. This property belongs to the Republic of Texas
Her
mouth twisted. “That’s ridiculous. My parents settled this land twenty years
ago. The republic can go find someone else to harass.” A very large, lethal
looking sickle appeared in her hand from beneath the apron. “Now leave.”
Caleb
took a few moments to study her. Taller than the average woman, she also had
muscles most women didn’t. Honed, lean arms and long hands, a heart-shaped face
with an upturned nose. The one thing that set her apart were the amber eyes currently
staring holes in him. They were an unusual shade, like the colors of the embers
in the forge behind him.
“I
can’t do that.”
“Then
I will make you.” She pulled a huge cleaver out with her other hand. The woman
was a lethal weapon with all the blades she made.
Caleb
decided to appeal to the woman’s logical side, if she had one. Truth was, he
was distracted by the way she looked and spoke. He’d had plenty of experience
with females, but no one like Aurora Foster. “You’re the blacksmith Rory
Foster. Is that correct?”
“Only
my friends call me Rory. You can call me Mrs. Foster as you ride off my land.”
She ran the sickle down the edge of the cleaver. It made a screeching sound
that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Was she going to chop him
into pieces?
“It’s
not your land.”
“That’s
a pile of horse shit. This land belonged to my father and now it belongs to
me.” Her tone and her expression told him he had a hell of a fight on his
hands.
“Females
can’t own property in Texas
“I
don’t think anything. I know.” She stepped closer, her hands tightening on the
weapons. “Now get out before I make you leave.”
Caleb
sighed. “I can’t leave.” He didn’t want to pull his pistol on the woman. Hell,
even the most aggravating female deserved respect. “Ma’am, this is my job. I
have an assignment to remove an illegal squatter off land owned by the Republic of Texas
She
bared her teeth. “Get out of my smithy.”
Beth
Williamson, who also writes as Emma Lang, is an award-winning, bestselling
author of both historical and contemporary romances. Her books range from
sensual to scorching hot. She is a Career Achievement Award Nominee in Erotic
Romance by Romantic Times Magazine, in both 2009 and 2010.
Beth
has always been a dreamer, never able to escape her imagination. It led her to
the craft of writing romance novels. She’s passionate about purple, books, and
her family. She has a weakness for shoes and purses, as well as bookstores. Her
path in life has taken several right turns, but she’s been with the man of her
dreams for more than 20 years.
Beth
works full-time and writes romance novels evening, weekends, early mornings and
whenever there is a break in the madness. She is compassionate, funny, a bit
reserved at times, tenacious and a little quirky. Her cowboys and western
romances speak of a bygone era, bringing her readers to an age where men were
honest, hard and packing heat. For a change of pace, she also dives into some
smokin’ hot contemporaries, bringing you heat, romance and snappy dialogue.
Life
might be chaotic, as life usually is, but Beth always keeps a smile on her
face, a song in her heart, and a cowboy on her mind. ;)
BETH’S WEBSITE: http://www.bethwilliamson.com/
BETH’S EMAIL:
