Where was the editor for this book? There were a huge number of misspelled words and words that had been transposed in the sentence. I also grew weary of hearing Miki Lassiter, heroine, referred to as innocent-- even after she wasnt innocent anymore. I believe this book could have been shortened by at least 50 pages; there was so much redundancy especially the sex scenes. The last chapter was totally extraneous.
Miki has had a rotten life since her mother died; her father drank and gambled away her inheritance. Before long, she was earning the money that sustained the family. Before this story has begun, Mr. Lassiter was selling tonics (and drinking away the profits) while riding (with his daughter) in a wagon; they had traveled over several states. Miki was weary of her constantly moving life; she wants stability and a home of her own.
To that end, Miki and her father have come to the Oklahoma Territory to race for free land. The government has taken the Indians promised lands and prepared to give them to white settlers.
Handsome Cale Brolin saw Miki racing her horse Sundance across the prairie during an electric storm; when he saved her, Miki was unappreciative of his efforts. In fact, the two combatants were like oil and water. It takes them a long time to find a middle ground.
Miki has had a rotten life since her mother died; her father drank and gambled away her inheritance. Before long, she was earning the money that sustained the family. Before this story has begun, Mr. Lassiter was selling tonics (and drinking away the profits) while riding (with his daughter) in a wagon; they had traveled over several states. Miki was weary of her constantly moving life; she wants stability and a home of her own.
To that end, Miki and her father have come to the Oklahoma Territory to race for free land. The government has taken the Indians promised lands and prepared to give them to white settlers.
Handsome Cale Brolin saw Miki racing her horse Sundance across the prairie during an electric storm; when he saved her, Miki was unappreciative of his efforts. In fact, the two combatants were like oil and water. It takes them a long time to find a middle ground.
All Miki Lassiter had left, now that her father had drunk and gambled away the family fortune, was her beautiful chestnut stallion and her dream - to stake a ranching claim in the newly opened Oklahoma territory and raise horses. And nothing was going to stop her. Then she met the arrogant stranger who thought he was being kind by rescuing her from the fierce prairie thunderstorm. She tried to squirm out from under the brute's protective embrace until she found herself melting beneath the smooth hardness of his long, taut body. It was impossible to voice her independence while her heart surrendered to the fire of his passionate kisses and her very soul throbbed with desire as his experienced hands caressed her rain-drenched flesh...
HARDHEADED REALIST
Cale Brolin knew what a cyclone and flashes of lightning could do to a rider on the open prairie. That's why the rugged horse trader grabbed the crazy, but curvaceous beauty off her plunging stallion and pinned her to the ground. But it didn't take him long to realize that the real cyclone was not in the sky, but right there beneath him, wriggling to get free...While the storm pelted him with rain, the heat of her flesh scorched him through his damp clothes, and his arms tightened around her. He wanted to lie there forever, his face buried in her fragrant silver-gold hair, his lips savoring her soft curves. No longer a free man, he was now a slave to the tumultuous ecstasy of a spitfire in a raging tempest, ablaze in the rapture of STORMFIRE...
HARDHEADED REALIST
Cale Brolin knew what a cyclone and flashes of lightning could do to a rider on the open prairie. That's why the rugged horse trader grabbed the crazy, but curvaceous beauty off her plunging stallion and pinned her to the ground. But it didn't take him long to realize that the real cyclone was not in the sky, but right there beneath him, wriggling to get free...While the storm pelted him with rain, the heat of her flesh scorched him through his damp clothes, and his arms tightened around her. He wanted to lie there forever, his face buried in her fragrant silver-gold hair, his lips savoring her soft curves. No longer a free man, he was now a slave to the tumultuous ecstasy of a spitfire in a raging tempest, ablaze in the rapture of STORMFIRE...
