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That night, when she slipped between the sheets, she knew Hamish had slept in the bed while she was gone.
The sheets were clean and everything was in order, but there was something…. Just something. A faint scent of him from the blankets, maybe, or just the feeling that his large body had lain there last night and the nights before that.
She lay awake a long time with unwanted thoughts. Someday, Hamish would lie in this bed with his wife—another woman—and Brenda Jane Dolliver would be out of his life, only a memory.
She simply wasn’t wife material. Just as well. Even if she wanted to marry him, he wouldn’t have her….
Dear Reader,
The holiday season is a time for family, love…and miracles! We have all this—and more!—for you this month in Silhouette Romance. So in the gift-giving spirit, we offer you these wonderful books by some of the genre’s finest:
A workaholic executive finds a baby in his in-box and enlists the help of the sexy single mom next door in this month’s BUNDLES OF JOY, The Baby Came C.O.D., by RITA Award-winner Marie Ferrarella. Both hero and heroine are twins, and Marie tells their identical siblings’ stories in Desperately Seeking Twin, out this month in our Yours Truly line.
Favorite author Elizabeth August continues our MEN! promotion with Paternal Instincts. This latest installment in her SMYTHESHIRE, MASSACHUSETTS series features an irresistible lone wolf turned doting dad! As a special treat, Carolyn Zane’s sizzling family drama, THE BRUBAKER BRIDES, continues with His Brother’s Intended Bride—the title says it all!
Completing the month are three classic holiday romances. A world-weary hunk becomes The Dad Who Saved Christmas in this magical tale by Karen Rose Smith. Discover The Drifter’s Gift in RITA Award-winning author Lauryn Chandler’s emotional story. Finally, debut author Zena Valentine weaves a tale of transformation—and miracles—in From Humbug to Holiday Bride.
So treat yourself this month—and every month!—to Silhouette Romance!
Happy holidays,
Joan Marlow Golan
Senior Editor
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
From Humbug to Holiday Bride
Zena Valentine
For Mom and Aunt Vi. Thanks.
ZENA VALENTINE
has had a career goal since childhood to “have adventures.” Throughout her adventures in journalism, cosmetics, construction, parenting, corporate financial relations, photography, sports car racing, gardening, flying, cooking and real estate, she has carried a lifelong love of writing. She likens writing a romance novel to restarting an airplane at five thousand feet (“exciting”). Nowadays she divides her time between the north woods of Minnesota and the desert country of Nevada. Her journalist daughter and musician son are off having their own adventures.
Hamish Chandler had never felt quite so helpless. Or useless.
The young woman lay on the cranked-up hospital bed, its top slightly elevated, her dark hair matted, her tanned skin contrasting sharply with the shades and textures of white that engulfed her. “She is, uh, was, a photojournalist,” Mrs. Billings had said. “She rides horses, plays golf and tennis very well. And she skis.” And then Mrs. Billings had blushed slightly and added, “I think she breaks a lot of hearts, too, that girl.”
He couldn’t see that the young woman before him was anything like a heartbreaker, not with the bruises and scratch marks covering half of her face. She wasn’t skinny, probably because of her athletic ability. Even after three weeks in a hospital bed, there was substance to what he could see of her.
She was sleeping, and he felt a voyeuristic awkwardness in staring at her, yet he was unwilling to awaken her. The shape she was in, he thought, sleep must be a blessed escape.
“Please, please, see what you can do,” Mrs. Billings had pleaded with glistening eyes the day before. “I don’t think she’s much for religion, but maybe, after coming so close to dying, maybe…”
He could see the young woman had probably come close to dying if she was still in bad shape after three weeks of recovery. She lay so motionless, her limbs slack, her graceful, long-fingered hand resting palm up with her fingers curled on the pillow next to her head. He sank into the chair alongside the bed, filled with an odd longing to comfort her and take away the pain.
Visiting patients in the hospital was a regular