Devil
in Texas
Lady
Law and the Gunslinger Series Book 1
by
Adrienne deWolfe
Genre:
Historical Romance
Pinkerton
Agent Sadie Michelson poses as a casino singer to investigate a Texas
Senator. Before she can cozy up to her quarry, she must get past his
bodyguard, William Cassidy, her long-lost lover.
An
outlaw seeking redemption, Cass was lured to Texas by the promise of
a Ranger badge. But he hasn’t forgotten the sassy siren, who toyed
with his heart. When Sadie proposes a truce, Cass suspects she’s
hiding something.
With
assassins dogging their heels, Cass and Sadie uncover a murder
conspiracy in the senate. To stay alive, they must do the one thing
they’re dead set against: trust each other.
As the other players left the table, Sadie sprawled man-like in her chair, doing her best to look drunk and stupid. God knew, she'd observed enough rednecks to know how to mimic one.
According to the bouncer, Cass was hunting for her in the crowd. Sadie wasn't surprised. In fact, she'd prepared. That's why she'd donned a dingy linen sack suit (which was the ugliest thing she'd ever worn); blue-tinted railroad spectacles (to turn her amber eyes a shade of green;) flesh-toned putty to hide the freckles on her nose, and auburn facial hair. Knowing Cass as she did, she figured she was due for a monumental showdown.
Her mind flashed back to a torrid night in Dodge, when she'd insisted she was a business woman who would never give her heart to any man. He'd taken offense at the idea. When she'd refused to make an exception, even for him, he'd used his lariat to bind her to the posts of her bed. She could still hear his provocative drawl above her ripping breaths as he'd tantalized her feverish, sensitized nakedness.
A lusty smile curved her lips.
'Stop that!' her ever-practical brain railed at her nether region. What the Rebel Rutter knew about love could probably be poured into a thimble!
As if on cue, Cass tossed back his tequila, strolled to her table, and straddled a chair. She struggled to ignore the captivating shower of sparks that danced along her nerves. The crackle of current between her and Cass had always been like some hungry, growling thing. Never had it been more dangerous than tonight, when she had to keep her head cool and her heart hard to discern the truth from his lies.
He doffed his Stetson and set it on the table. "The name's Cassidy," he said in ironic tones. "William. Most folks call me Cass."
"Uh-huh."
"You got a name?"
"Depends on what I'm wearing."
The twitch in his lips betrayed his mirth. He'd maneuvered his chair close enough for her to catch the faint whiff of sandalwood soap.
"Seems like we've met before," he drawled.
"Must've been a past life."
"As I recollect, you weren't so fond of wearing a beard back then."
"A wretched nuisance," she confided. "It itches like hell."
"I like it."
"You would."
Never missing a beat, she dealt the first hand for Stud Poker. The Queen of Hearts showed on her side of the table, the Knave of Hearts on his.
"How fitting." His baritone was velvety, nearly a croon. Picking up chips, he tossed them to the center of the table. He'd staked 100 dollars.
Showboater.
Peeking at her cards, Sadie was hard-pressed not to sigh. They were crap, but she called his bet anyway.
"Don't know too many men who wear sun-shades in a poker game," he drawled.
"You calling me a cheat?"
"You wanna wrassle over it?"
"You'd only get whupped."
He flashed all those pretty teeth. "That's why I brought an extra lariat."
She ducked her head to hide her smirk. Oh, he really was a cut-up.
Dance
to the Devil's Tune
Lady
Law and the Gunslinger Series Book 2
Maestro’s
music creates mindless puppets, who commit crimes at his command. To
lure the sinister jewel thief out of hiding, Pinkerton Agent Sadie
Michelson poses as a wealthy widow.
Fearing
for her safety, William “Cass” Cassidy, her hotheaded lover,
hatches his own plot to end Maestro’s killing spree. But his daring
gamble backfires and costs him Sadie’s trust.
Now
Cass is on the run, hunted by Maestro and the Pinkertons. Torn
between her mission and her gunslinging lover, Sadie must stop Cass’s
showdown with Maestro, or she’ll lose her badge—and her man.
(Scene Set Up: Vandy hurt his paw. His 17-year-old owner sneaked him into the hotel room while Sadie, the heroine, is sleeping.)
Sadie gasped and jerked awake. Daylight was edging across her pillow. She sucked down great gulps of air, trying to sooth the erratic speeding of her heart.
Thank God. It was only a dream.
Turning her head to check the clock, she came face to face with black eyes and a furry snout. She nearly shrieked.
"Son of a—"
Vandy whuffed affectionately and snuggled against her breasts.
Sadie scowled. The coon had been sleeping on his side, his head resting on her pillow. Tucked under his jaw was his right hind leg, which had been bandaged in what looked suspiciously like a piece of her other pillowcase.
"Who let you in?"
Vandy's tail flopped possessively over her bare arm. He yawned, revealing formidable fangs. The stench of carrion wafted over her face.
"Is that a flea on my quilt? So help me God, that had better not be a flea!"
Vandy licked her nose.
I'm going to kill that kid.
A jaunty rap rattled her door. "Room service!"
Sadie's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Throwing back the quilt, she rolled off the other side of the bed, grabbed her .32 from the nightstand, and snatched a black satin robe from the post.
"I didn't order room service!" she called.
"Compliments of the fine gentleman," insisted that muffled, male voice from the hall.
Fine gentleman? Sadie's heart quickened. Who could he mean?
Hastily tying her belt, she padded on bare feet to the door. When she cracked it open, she spied Cass, leaning against the wall in his trademark Stetson, black shirt and chaps.
"Mornin', Sunshine," he drawled.
The bellhop had already wheeled the cart across the threshold; otherwise, she would have slammed the door in Cass's face.
"I'll take it from here," he told the kid with a wink.
The bellhop grinned and caught Cass's coin before retreating for the elevator.
Sadie seethed, and not just because her ex-lover had hoodwinked her again. At 6:45 a.m., after a restless night, her hair resembled an exploded mop, and the rings beneath her eyes made her look like Vandy's next-of-kin.
By comparison, Cass's wind-riffled ruggedness lent him a mouth-watering, outdoorsy appeal that made her private parts twitch. His eyes were as stunning as polished sapphires set in a face that the sun had baked to honey-colored amber. His grin was a slash of pure mischief in his closely cropped beard. She wanted to smack him for his disgusting cheerfulness.
"I should have told the bellhop you smuggled a fleabag into the penthouse," she grumbled.
He pushed the cart into the room. "Is that any way to talk about last night’s hero?"
Vandy had been busily scratching his ear beneath the quilt. Now he popped his head out from his goose-down igloo and licked his chops.
"I brought all your breakfast favorites," Cass said.
"If you think a plate of gingerbread can excuse you for—"
"I wasn't talking to you," he interrupted loftily. He raised the platter's sterling dome to reveal a smelly dead trout, an apple wedge smeared with peanut butter, a saucer heaped with pumpkin guts, and a crystal bowl filled with water.
Vandy wriggled enthusiastically and barked.
Sadie wrinkled her nose. She wondered if it was too late to shout for the bellhop to remove the stinking travesty—and Cass along with it.
"All right," she bit out. "You've had your fun. Now get out."
"What, no chit-chat? No foreplay?"
"I have a gun. Don't make me use it."
He chuckled, lowering the platter to the carpet. Vandy hopped off the bed—favoring his leg—and promptly made a mess, tracking pumpkin guts across the pile.
"Aw. Look how tidy the little tyke is," Cass crooned without a hint of irony. "He's washing his paws."
"That's not all that needs washing," Sadie groused. "Collie had better clean this slop up. That kid has a lot of nerve, picking my lock in the middle of the night and stealing my pillowcase for a bandage."
"Now Sadie, the boy only has two shirts. And you have four pillowcases."
"That's not the point!"
"Yeah? Then what is the point, detective? That a beardless pup sneaked inside your bedroom while you were sleeping? And if he can do it, Maestro can?"
Humiliation burned Sadie's cheeks. As loath as she was to admit it, Cass's argument was sound. A bad dream was no excuse for letting down her guard. However, she wasn't about to concede her failing. An army of inquisitors couldn't make her give Cass that pleasure!
Book
3, The Devil Plays with Fire coming soon!
Adrienne
deWolfe is the #1 bestselling author of action-packed Historical
Romance novels, where feisty Heroines buck the conventions and true
Heroes must be wickedly funny. Her critically acclaimed series
include Wild Texas Nights, Velvet Lies, and Lady Law & The
Gunslinger.
When
Adrienne’s not writing, she can often be found dragging her
sopping-wet feline out of the bathtub. (Because Krazy Kat — who
thinks she’s a shark — gets her kitty jollies by cannon-balling
into the water while Adrienne’s soaking in it.)
On
other days, Adrienne wages war with her printer. (You think we jest?
See her post, “Help! My Printer Has a Poltergeist!” at
http://writingnovelsthatsell.com/humor-my-printer-has-a-poltergeist/
)
Fascinated
by all things mystical, Adrienne writes a blog about dragons, magic,
haunted pizza, the Universal Law of Attraction, and other weirdness
she can’t explain at http://MagicMayhemBlog.com.
She
also writes a blog featuring tips about the business of writing at
http://WritingNovelsThatSell.com, where you’ll find lots of writing
resources. She enjoys mentoring aspiring authors and offers
professional fiction-coaching.
Would
you like to learn more about her novels? Her characters? Her zany
writer’s life? Join her behind the scenes by subscribing to her
blog at http://WildTexasNights.com
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the tour HERE
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