Oh you lucky, lucky ducks!  In honor of the holiday craziness season, the Pond is giving away not one, but two recent historical western releases from Harlequin Historical!

Alaskan Renegade by Kate Bridges

In need of a bodyguard on her mission into the Alaskan wilderness, nurse Victoria Windhaven is shocked to recognize the hired gun as none other than Brant MacQuaid—a man she had thought never to see again! Brant, now a notorious bounty hunter with a burning passion for justice, had once betrayed her.

But closely confined in the stagecoach by day, and even more closely combined under the stars by night, Victoria can’t help but dream of turning this renegade into ideal husband material….

Her Colorado Man by Cheryl St. John

When eighteen-year-old Mariah found herself pregnant and unmarried in her small Colorado town, she disappeared. One year later, she returned with a baby—though minus the “husband” who had conveniently ventured off to Alaska’s gold fields to seek his fortune….

But now, with handsome adventurer Wes Burrows turning up and claiming to be the husband she had invented, Mariah’s lies become flesh and blood—and her wildest dreams a reality!

One random commenter will be chosen from the comments on this post.  All you have to do?  Since both of these were November and December releases respectively, we want you to share with us your favorite winter holiday tradition. Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, anything goes!  Any of the November or December holidays will do

Contest will close on December 13, 2009. Both copies were purchased by the blog and are not signed.  Contest is open to all.

It is only for Kristie and Wendy I would get up early on a Saturday and drive to the post office. They have up wrap up posts today with contests! LOL hence my drive to the post office…

I would wrap but I am not done, this isn’t shocking I am always late. So expect some posts til Wednesdayish but will try to have the last contest posts up Sunday at least two more bet you can guess one of them (to close wed).

Unless we go ahead and update the template and it crashes (Did I mention I am somewhat cynical?) this western drive could go on for weeks… ::innocent blink::

It’s a Western Wrap Wendy Style

It’s a Western Wrap Kristie Style

Now on for some Harlequin Historical reckon…

Turner’s Woman by Jenna Kernan

I mention this book all the time and it is one that when Wendy finally read it – she didn’t like it near as much – we forgive her, she can’t be perfect.  Why do I love this book so much? I mean it is sick, I have put it in the hands of more people than I can remember and noticed I have a copy to send to Renee! I adore Emma and didn’t hate Jake near as much as Wendy.  And the setting… oh man the setting is just amazing.  It is almost another character in the book.  And the women you meet in the story, pretty much all kick ass.  Loves it.

The rest I couldn’t decide on a book so I picked my fave authors and am giving you a few picks.

The Stranger by Elizabeth Lane or His Borrowed Bride

The book we are giving away is the most recent, His Substitute Bride. I admit I adore Quinn but I loved His Borrowed Bride (the first in the series). And The Stranger a hecka lot more than Gwen did. And good new is Elizabeth Lane has a novella coming out plus another story in the current series in March 2010. THEN another one… you can read deets here.

Carolyn Davidson is one of those authors I want to go back to Harlequin Historical. Her last HQN, Eden, was painful to read. The one before that not that much better, although unlike some I really enjoyed Redemption (her first HQN).

But her HH are (mostly) amazing. She is one of the authors who were on my reread spree at the beginning of 2009.

Maggie’s Beau
Loving Katherine
The Midwife
The Tender Stranger
The Wedding Promise – which ties into the HQN novel Redemption
There are more… The Seduction of Shay Devereaux, Runaway all awesome, hope the line sees her back soon

Kate Bridges

Do not know what to rec here.  LOVE her books and omg her next, ALASKAN RENEGADE  looks amazing.  FAB cover. I WANT.  So many to pick from but will say… something old and something newish *g*

Klondike Doctor (1st in Mountie series set in the Yukon Gold Rush) and The Doctor’s Homecoming (noted on her site that “has been reprinted. It’s part of a larger Close to Home Collection offered by Harlequin. It’s included in the fourth shipment. There are lots of popular authors included!” I did not know that but I recently read it for the first time.)

AND holy hell look what it sez on her site:

Kate’s also working on a novella for a Mail Order Bride anthology (title to be determined) with two of her favorite Western writers–Carolyn Davidson and Jillian Hart. Release date is spring 2010.

EVERYONE ssssssqqqqqqqquuuuuuueeeeeeeeeeeee those are three of my fave authors all together!

Cheryl Reavis the author I shouldn’t even mention since I don’t think she is going to write for HH again. Moved to SSE line, prolly just to break my heart because it is all about me. They maybe hard to find, not sure, but Prisoner, The Forbidden Bride, & Bartered Bride are three of my faves.

I know you were expecting a different Cheryl but I think we have touched on her.

And three authors you read you might have missed these books were first published as HH:
Lawless by Nora Roberts – one of the few of hers I have read
Reckless Love by Elizabeth Lowell – another fave
trilogy I ::heart:::
Apache Summer by Heather Graham
Dark Stranger by Heather Graham
Rides A Hero by Heather Graham

Wendy the Super Librarian‘s review of Wanted In Alaska by Kate Bridges
Historical romance released by Harlequin Historical 1 Feb 09

One of the reasons I love westerns is because they tend to feature themes that flip my proverbial switch. Those of redemption, second chances, and the desire of many to better their lot in life. Certainly the United States has more than it’s fair share of faults, but it’s always been the land of opportunity. Where a nobody can become a somebody; and nothing optimizes this quite like Alaska. It was the last frontier, and once gold was discovered? Forget about it. I imagine this is why Kate Bridges continues to mine the Alaskan landscape for her Harlequin Historicals . There really are endless possibilities, like her latest story which introduces readers to a heroine with dreams of owning her own business and a hero wrongly accused of being an outlaw.

Autumn MacNeil came to Alaska after her grandparents passed away to make a future for herself. But unlike so many who are rushing out looking for gold, she’s singing in the most respectable hotel in Skagway. She has a beautiful voice, but her dreams are bigger than that. Our girl wants to buy the hotel. The problem is that the man who owns it, her boss, can’t seem to get over the fact that she has boobs. He’s not about to sell to a mere woman, but that doesn’t stop Autumn from trying. In the meantime, she’s enjoying a local masquerade ball – where she and her best friend, Victoria, a local nurse, decide to go in costume…as each other.

Quinn Rowlan is a man on the run, his wanted poster plastered all over Alaska. The worst of it is that he’s an innocent man. He finds himself in Skagway looking for a nurse. His younger brother was stabbed during an altercation, and the knife wound is festering. Quinn would do anything to save his brother, and that means kidnapping a nurse. Several of the locals point out Victoria to him, he gets her alone, and carries her off to the cabin where he’s stashed his brother. He gets away clean. Of course little does he know that he’s kidnapped the wrong woman, so convincing was Autumn’s and Victoria’s masquerade.

This story starts off with a bang. Poor Autumn really is in a bind. All she knows is that she’s been kidnapped by a gang of men, and she’s not sure what to do. If she blurts out that she’s not a nurse, will they shoot her (or worse) and leave her for dead? If she claims to be Victoria and Quinn’s brother dies because she’s inept at nursing – then what? Yeah, she could end up dead (or worse). Then there’s the fact that Quinn, despite his kidnapping her, really seems like a decent fellow. That really confuses her! Luckily the author doesn’t drag out this adventure in mistaken identity for the whole story. It’s wrapped up rather quickly, and the story moves on to Quinn’s quest to prove his innocence, which ultimately leads to him hiding in plain sight.

The story moves along at a good clip, and Autumn and Quinn have sizzling chemistry. Given that she was still wrestling with her trust issues, I did think she jumped into his arms a little quickly, but it’s hard to fault when the love scenes are so nice and spicy. No, the main issue here is the conclusion of the external conflict and Quinn’s innocence. The author jumps from Point A to Point C, without really stopping at Point B. People go from believing Quinn is an outlaw to believing he’s innocent without a whole lot of “proof” flashed in front of their faces. A little more hand-holding through the resolution would have made this a stronger story during the second half.

All that said, this is a nice adventure driven romance featuring two characters that share a palpable chemistry together. It didn’t change my life, but it certainly was an enjoyable way to spend an afternoon.

Grade: B-

Summary:

Outlaws, even innocent ones, just can’t risk doctors’ visits. But Quinn Rowlan desperately needs a nurse for his injured brother. Kidnapping is the only answer.

Except Quinn snatches the wrong woman from a masquerade! Autumn MacNeil is a singer dressed as a nurse for the costume ball. She doesn’t know the first thing about knife wounds!

Still, there’s no way he can let her go now—and, to make matters worse, Quinn realizes he’s falling for his curvy, blond hostage….

Read an excerpt.

Wendy the Super Librarian‘s review of Western Weddings by Jillian Hart, Kate Bridges & Charlene Sands
Historical romance anthology released by Harlequin Historical 1 May 08

Many readers don’t care for anthologies because they can be wildly uneven affairs. I tend to think of them as my comfort reads. I find anthologies just the ticket for when my brain is mush, my attention span is on par with the life cycle of a fruit fly, and the mere thought of any story over 100 pages causes my blood pressure to spike. Couple that with my love affair for Harlequin Historical westerns, and it’s no wonder that I plowed through Western Weddings in record time.

Rocky Mountain Bride by Jillian Hart

This features the well-worn plot device of the mail-order bride that the “groom” knows nothing about, but Hart makes it fresh by writing a fabulous heroine. Savannah Knowles is a nice Southern girl with nothing left. The Civil War took everything, and after the death of her beloved grandmother, she is without any kin of her own. So she decides to become a mail-order bride, corresponding with Nate Brooks for a year, falling in love with him and his boisterous family, before agreeing to travel to his home in Montana Territory. Too bad Nate had nothing to do with those letters, and the whole thing was orchestrated by his well-meaning, albeit meddling, parents.

This story works well because Savannah has gumption. While she was technically courted by Nate’s parents, she quickly realizes that she actually did fall in love with the real him. Now to convince him of that fact, and salvage what is left of her pride.

Grade: B+

Shotgun Vows by Kate Bridges

Fans of Bridges’ Klondike/Mountie series will recognize characters Milly Thornbottom and Mountie Weston Williams, who get their own romance in this story. Milly used to have a horrible crush on Weston, but is fed up with him treating her like a little girl. So she attends the annual Spring Fever dance in hopes of catching another beau’s eye. Unfortunately, she soon finds herself standing before a preacher after her daddy catches her in an embrace with Weston. Faster than you can say shotgun wedding, these two are married. Now to make the best of it amid the swilling gossip.

I suspect fans of Bridges’ series will get more enjoyment out of this tale than the casual reader. It’s a pleasant enough read, but I felt the conflict was a little too big for an anthology story – and frankly, I wanted Milly to stay hopping mad at her daddy for a good long time.

Grade: C+

Springville Wife by Charlene Sands

Sands’ entry features one of my least favorite plot devices – the precocious child who works overtime to find her daddy a wife. Grace Lander is a widow still haunted by the death of her husband and unborn baby. She returns home to Texas to become the new school teacher, only to run into her childhood nemesis Caleb Matlock. Caleb is the most eligible bachelor in town, but hasn’t remarried even though he’s raising his niece. Sparks fly, and besides the niece, Grace’s darling auntie is determined to have these two hook up.

This story actually worked pretty well for me, even though I tend to dislike precocious matchmaking children. The problem comes later in the story, when the plot morphs into a bad daytime soap opera. Grace’s bereavement is really enough conflict for a story, and the added bit of over-the-top drama left an unsavory taste in my mouth.

Grade: C

I found Western Weddings a pleasant way to spend a lazy afternoon. The stories flew by at a nice clip, were well-written, and were the very definition of comfort reads for this western lover. Hart continues to write interesting characters, and the other two stories were fast reads, even with my minor quibbles.

Grade: B-

Summary:

Rocky Mountain Bride by Jillian Hart
Savannah Knowles arrives in Montana expecting to marry Nate Brooks, but he has never heard of her! Can this quiet man find room in his heart for lonely Savannah?

Shotgun Vows by Kate Bridges
Milly Thornbottom has a crush on Mountie Weston Williams, and one stolen kiss changes their lives! After they’re marched straight to the altar, can her crush possibly develop into more?

Springville Wife by Charlene Sands

Grace Lander returns to Springville to pick up the pieces of her life and become the town’s schoolmarm. Single father Caleb Matlock’s kiss may be just what Grace needs to mend her heart and make a home!

Read excerpts: Jillian Hart, Kate Bridges.

by Kate Bridges

I love writing about people. About their relationships to each other, and not just the romantic kind. Of course I love writing about the battle of the sexes, but family and friends are a prominent theme of my novels, too. The most fascinating thing I discovered while researching my latest books, set in the Klondike Gold Rush, were the people — the hard-headed, the odd, and the normal folks — who dropped everything they were doing to head to the Yukon.

In the late 1890s when news of a major gold strike first reached the rest of North America, many folks made a mad dash for this wild frontier. Many of them thought it was their last chance to hit it big.

The mayor of Seattle walked off the job and jumped on a ship to Alaska. Judges left their posts, farmers walked off their land, seamstresses paid their last cent for a ticket north. Office workers who’d never held a shovel in their lives boarded the first train that took them to the west coast.

So many Europeans, as well as stampeders from across the U.S. and Canada, joined the trails that the dogs they brought with them forever changed the bloodlines of Huskies.

A hundred thousand people arrived in Alaska. This was just the beginning of their journey, for the gold was located over the mountains near Dawson City, Yukon Territory. Only a third who set out made it. Many of those left behind became millionaires anyway, servicing the miners who’d struck it rich and had nothing to buy in the wilderness. Enterprising folks set up restaurants, offered their services as tour guides, built casinos and steamboats.

Many folks were separated on the trails. There were no methods of communicating—no telegraph lines, no telephones, no trains—so if a person got into an argument with a traveling companion and separated, that was often it forever. Although many tried to find each other later, most were unsuccessful.

The heroine in Klondike Fever gets separated this way from her sister. And Lily is one of those people who dropped everything to join the Gold Rush. She’s trying to find her way back to her sister when her plans fall apart…she’s robbed on the stagecoach returning to Alaska and is shackled to a man she used to work for as a servant.

“Shotgun Vows,” my novella in Western Weddings, features a family who are setting up shop in the Yukon and are trying to do their best for their daughter, but unfortunately wind up interfering in her life.

So tell me what you think: are there any interesting family members in your history who’ve done something unusual on what seemed to be the spur of the moment? Or maybe it’s you? Maybe you packed up and headed to a new place?

For a chance to win an autographed copy of Klondike Fever or Western Weddings, please post a comment or question today. I’ll draw two winners. I’m also donating two more books to the grand prize basket for the end of the month.

If you’d like to see the photos I took on my research trip to Alaska and the Yukon, or to join my newsletter, please visit my website.

Now I pass it over to you.

Our Harlequin Historical guest today is another pond fave, Kate Bridges. It is hard not to adore a writer who shows us how the west was won, in the Yukon. If you are looking for adventures with Mounties or stories of the Klondike Gold Rush – Kate is the author to look for. Next she will be taking on the Alaskan side of the Gold Rush. The working title of her 2009 Harlequin Historical is Alaskan Masquerade. Until we can get her to give up the goods on that take a look at her 2008 books you want to make sure not to miss…

Klondike Fever by Kate Bridges
April 2008

It’s a reversal of fortune when Klondike Lily, the richest woman to strike gold in the Yukon, is robbed on a coach headed to Alaska and shackled to fellow passenger, Dylan Wayburn, a man she used to work for as a servant.

Yukon wilderness, August 1898

Dylan Wayburn recognized her before she recognized him.

She dressed differently, he thought. An odd mix of blatant beauty and hidden treasure. And after five years, instead of recognition in her eyes, there was dismissal. Dylan lowered the brim of his Stetson and hoped it would stay that way.

He studied her through half-closed eyes.

Miss Lilybeth Cromwell had always been self-conscious of a man’s attention. Yet the top button of her square neckline, scooped low like many high-society dresses, was half undone. It riveted the faces of all four men in the stagecoach. They waited for the button to slip completely and grace them with more of her bosom. Even the old lady seated beside Dylan was sniffing into a handkerchief and staring. Funny thing was, Lilybeth wore a black silk shawl around her shoulders, covering up the brilliant blue dress beneath.

Dylan never could understand that about women. She put that revealing dress on this morning and now she was trying to hide it.

Lilybeth was as far from demure as her flowing red hair and full lips would allow. But then again, Miss Lilybeth Cromwell was not the shy, nameless adolescent he’d once known. She was Klondike Lily, the wealthiest woman in the Yukon.

Rumor had it the gold nuggets on her claim were the size of grizzly claws.

Dylan tried to ignore her. He shoved a shoulder against the hard boards and peered out the window.

No sound of anything unusual. Still nothing to look at for the hundreds of miles between Dawson City and the tent town of Whitehorse except acres of spruce, aspen and the occasional cottonwood. A ridge of mountains engulfed the river valley. Turquoise waters of the Yukon River gushed on the other side of their coach.

They hit another rut. The six passengers swayed in unison and Dylan’s face bobbed back to Lily.

Her button inched closer to release. He swallowed mighty hard, turned away again and stared at the outside shadows—two men driving a team of twelve horses. A strongbox locked in between them. A stack of luggage.

No one else had voiced it, but Dylan was well aware they were carrying a cache of gold. He knew it the instant he’d seen the number of horses on the team this morning. He’d been following the gold but he hadn’t been looking forward to meeting up with Lily again. Sooner or later, he knew they would, seeing how much gold she owned and how attractive that made her to thieves. And that, of course, was the reason he was here.

Beneath his boots, he felt the weight of the gold shift, tucked somewhere into a secret iron trap beneath the floorplanks. The stash was fairly well balanced, but on the odd turn, it slid an inch or two to the right, making the iron wheels on his side of the coach creak.

Mud wagon was a more appropriate term for the contraption they were riding in. A far cry from a civilized stagecoach in a civilized part of the world.

Twenty-eight days and nights he’d been traveling alone. Hiding behind scrub bush, eating berries when he couldn’t light a fire to attract attention, letting the scratch grow on his jaw, ensuring his holster and Colt revolvers were visible to all.

He’d be damned if he’d allow one inconsequential woman to blow his cover. If necessary, he could take down the two men sitting on either side of her.

Still, Dylan bristled with caution. He hoped she wouldn’t do anything reckless that might jeopardize the coming ambush and what he had to do to protect everyone inside the coach.

* * *

Lily adjusted her skirts and turned away from the bodyguard sitting on her right. His breath smelled of breakfast sausages. Heat glued their shoulders together. She usually preferred a window seat when she traveled, whether by train or wagon or ship, but her two secret bodyguards, provided by the stage depot three hours ago, insisted on flanking her.

She wiggled, panting for a pocket of air that wasn’t scented with either man’s breath. Envy gripped her as she stared at the formidable stranger slumped across from them. He sat beside the curtain and its rustling breeze. Why, with his dark Stetson perched low over his face, the mysterious man who seemed impressed with his own sense of danger hardly needed all the fresh air blowing his way. He was sleeping, for Lord’s sake, not even able to fully appreciate the gust.

And here she was, gasping.

There were some things money still couldn’t buy.

In fact, a lot of things.

Oh, here it came…a pinch of pine. Summer cedar.

She inhaled. Perhaps she’d get to the town of Whitehorse in one sane piece, after all. Then on to Skagway, Alaska, where her sister had last been sighted.

She detected the scent of whisky again, hailing from the sleeping stranger. How could a person take to drink so early in the morning?

Lily slid her hanky beneath her heavy wall of hair. She dabbed the moisture. If she hadn’t been in such a hurry to leave, she would have pinned her hair into a bun. Despite the heat, it wasn’t proper to go anywhere without a shawl.

Look how the stranger slid forward, silently demanding more space around him than any other passenger.

Weathered blue jeans covered his long legs. Expensive guns rested on lean hips. His crisp white shirt and suede vest made him look like an outlaw who was trying to behave. She glared at the broad shoulders and how many extra inches they occupied, inches that rightfully belonged to the older woman beside him and her elderly husband squeezed next to her, the Sawyers.

And why hadn’t the selfish man bothered to shave? Was it too much to ask for a man to look decent?

His shaggy brown hair could use a cut. He was traveling alone, but surely he hadn’t thought the coach would be empty from Dawson City to Whitehorse. They were in the middle of a gold rush!

Klondike fever, she called it. A burning inside the bellies of some men and women. A yearning to attain something grand, something they’d never seen or touched before.

They could have all the gold they could carry out of Dawson, if they struck it rich. The newly opened dirt path along the rivers between the Yukon and Alaska was no more than a hacked rut, but it was the only land route between Canada and the United States. Most folks still traveled by the waterways.

Heavens to God, look at him. Even his cowboy boots were obnoxiously large. She had half a mind to shake the living—

A dark eye peered at her from beneath his cowboy hat.

Heat rose to her cheeks.

Go ahead, tell him how much space he takes up! How his knees are just an inch away from her bodyguard’s. A bodyguard whose seat she had paid for. Why, she had literally paid for three seats in this coach, while he had only paid for one.

Air…she needed air…

The sound of gunshots lurched her forward, and suddenly she forgot all about the seating arrangements.

* * *

Her button finally came undone, but Dylan had no time to savor Lily. His pulse leaped at the blast of gunfire. He lunged for his Colts.

The old woman beside him shrieked, “No!”

“Hit the floor,” Dylan shouted and the Sawyers slid to their knees.

One of the drivers toppled from above the stagecoach, blood trickling off his left boot. He fell to the moving dirt.

Lily swung to her bodyguards. “Do something!”

Their guns were already halfway up, but Dylan was faster at pointing his six-shooters. “Toss your weapons.”

Fury etched their faces. They dropped their guns.

Lily trembled. “Blazes,” she whispered at Dylan, her skin pale against her wild auburn hair.

He knelt on the seat and peered out the window. The stagecoach careened down the trail, rocking everyone back and forth. They clutched their seats to hang on.

Hooves thundered in the grass. Five masked men galloped within yards of the coach, gaining fast. With steady aim, Dylan hit one chest, then another. Gravely wounded, the men toppled over their horses.

Dylan was well aware what was happening inside the coach, too. One of the bodyguards whipped out a hidden pistol.

Dylan twisted around, shot the man’s wrist, and as the other bodyguard rushed him, Dylan shoved his boots into the man’s gut and heaved as hard as he could. The man crashed through the door and out to the rolling ground. The door slapped open and closed.

More gunshots outside. The coach slowed.

“Damn,” said Dylan. The slowing meant his side was losing. Hidden gold beneath his boots shifted and the right wheels creaked.

Lily’s blue eyes widened. “What do you want?”

Dylan kept his gun pointed at the injured man beside her, who was clutching a bloody wrist. “Your hired men are part of the gang trying to rob you.”

“Go to hell!” the bodyguard hollered.

Lily recoiled, unsure of who to look at, unsure of who to trust.

Dylan nudged the old man on the floor. “You all right?”

The gent moaned and helped his wife to her seat.

Lily kept her startled sights on Dylan. Her eyes flickered with recognition. Her mouth slackened, about to speak.

“Don’t say it,” he whispered.

“But you’re—”

“Don’t say it.”

She blinked rapidly and clutched her beaded handbag. Her lips went white. Her chin quivered. Her posture lost its strength.

Her remaining bodyguard lunged at Dylan with a knife. Dylan kicked the blade out of the ravaged hands and kicked the son of a bitch straight through the flapping door. He hurled to the grass.

The old couple gasped.

Color rushed back to Lily’s cheeks. She took in everything around her as the coach came to a shuddering stop.

“Pretend you’re with me,” Dylan said.

“But—”

“You either trust me or you don’t.” He locked on to her frantic expression. And waited. . . .

(continued. . . .)

WESTERN WEDDINGS anthology, “Shotgun Vows” by Kate Bridges

It’s humiliation no bride should have to bear. Yet, Milly Thornbottom is forced to take a groom when her parents, Dawson City’s biggest gossips, are aghast to find her in a compromising situation with a young Mountie recruit. Corporal Weston Williams can’t believe his misfortune. All he did was ask for a simple dance….

Chapter One

Dawson City, Yukon, May 1899

“I think he’s going to ask you to dance.”

“Hush,” said Milly Thornbottom to her good friend, Cora Vandenberg. Heat of embarrassment rushed up Milly’s neck. She smoothed the pleats of her ball gown in the bright evening sun that blasted through the community lodge for the annual Spring Fever Ball. “I dearly hope not.”

Her other friend, Rose Addison, whispered. “He’s attracted by your wicked hat, no doubt.”

Milly glanced across the crowded dance floor to the tall man in the red uniform who wouldn’t let go of her gaze. A cool evening breeze ruffled the tiny hairs at the back of her knotted bun, dark brunette hair she’d carefully pinned up for the biggest event of the year. She fiddled with a lose strand.

The lace trim on her sleeves swirled through the air. Beside her, Cora leaned against Rose. The two friends were such a contrast—Cora with her ruddy complexion and short golden curls, Rose with long black tresses.

“Can’t you two behave?” In order to break away from the Mountie’s gaze, Milly adjusted the brim of her hat, a wine-colored burgundy that matched her dress.

She’d stitched the organza to the brim only last night at eleven o’clock because it had been so sinfully busy at the hat and tailor shop where she worked. She’d volunteered to stay extra late to help her dear older neighbor, whose vision was going. The grandmother had needed help to hem a dress she’d attempted to fix on her own. Milly had restrung the loose beads across the waist while she was it.

The customers had all dropped in at the last minute it seemed, women boisterously preparing for the coming week of celebrations.

The Yukon was celebrating its spring, the thawing of its rivers for passage, and the endless sunshine that would soon bake the north. Milly couldn’t wait.

Across the room, the door opened again and caused another breeze. More folks entered the lodge. The fluttering white sash on Milly’s hat tickled her back, where her neckline plunged in a fashionable swoop.

She wondered if the man in uniform was truly coming for her, and dared another glance his way.

They hadn’t spoken the entire winter.

Weston Williams. Recent recruit for the North-West Mounted Police. He maneuvered his muscled frame through the crowd, aiming his blue-eyed gaze on Milly. To her annoyance, he still made her pulse rush. Dark blond hair brushed his shoulders, a bit longer than the other Mounties’. Although she and Weston had been quarantined for measles together last summer for two whole weeks in a group of strangers, they’d rarely shared an entire conversation. No matter how hard she’d tried.

He’d treated her as though she was far beneath him, a young child compared to his maturity. Ha. He wasn’t that much older.

The flecks of black in his blue eyes added to their depth and mystery. His lips seemed always on the verge of expression, yet never seemed to give away what he was thinking.

His red wool jacket tugged at the corners of his broad shoulders. Dark breeches spanned long legs, and tall leather boots added height to his already huge physique.

Did the Mounties dress to intimidate? She supposed the uniform and boots did that. Or perhaps the shoulder harness and gun.

Judging from the other men nodding at her, it seemed Weston was not the only one who’d noticed how much she’d changed from last year to this. Changed on the outside, she thought, but not on the inside. She was the same she’d always been, only he’d been too haughty to notice when it had really mattered to her.

Tonight, she appreciated the others in the room who had more manners and kinder things to say to her as a woman, not a child.

“Pardon me,” said a male voice behind her.

Milly twirled around. Her long skirts flashed across the plank floors, exposing the pointed black tips of her new boots. When the mercantile’s handsome son, James Yakov, nodded his dark head at her, she beamed. “James.”

“Your father said I might have this dance.”

“Absolutely,” she gushed. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

She’d stitched this dress for James. He’d once complimented her on a burgundy-colored blouse, and so she’d chosen burgundy linen for the gown tonight.

“You look pretty,” he told her, causing her pleasure to deepen.

“Thank you. I’ve-I’ve never seen you in a suit before. It makes you look quite dashing.”

He boldly took her hand and whirled her around the floor to a waltz, awkward at first, then synchronizing steps.

She glanced in her parents’ direction. Theodore and Abigail Thornbottom, owners of the rope and broom shop in Dawson City, were watching her carefully, even while shaking the hands of Reverend Murphy. Her thin father, in his tight plaid suit and white ponytail, squeezed the plump shoulder of her mother, whose own golden ball gown Milly had worked on in secret for a solid month, and then surprised her. It had been well worth her mother’s delight.

Tonight, her mother’s skin was flushed with pride, her eyes sparkling as she said goodbye to the minister. The man was leaving on a journey in the morning to visit the camps that dotted the riverbanks, for those in need of religious services that had been stymied by the impassable winter weather.

Milly reveled in the feel of James’s loose hold on her waist. She wished he’d press tighter so she could really feel his grip. She also wished her folks would let her make her own decisions regarding dance partners, but she was working on them.

Thank goodness they’d said yes to James.

It was spring and Milly, Cora and Rose would blissfully take their time deciding on men. Potential husbands, even. The thought made Milly’s stomach flutter. Like Cora and Rose, Milly was ready for courtship—for the year ahead, meeting all types of gentlemen she could thankfully choose from. Perhaps she didn’t have to look far. James was here.

He squeezed her waist. She lowered her lashes and held back a smile, not wanting to be too obvious. Then to her utter shock, he twirled her around right at the base of Weston William’s feet. She held her breath and didn’t dare look up.

Weston had been snubbed by James already, if he’d intended to ask for the dance first. However, it was Weston’s loss. He’d waited too long. Ever since last summer, to be frank.

When the waltz ended, she was panting with enthusiasm. “Thank you so much, James, I—”

“Her Pa said I was next.” A heavy-set older man interrupted them. Mr. Dirk Slayton. He’d apparently missed a patch of dark stubble on one cheek when he’d shaved this evening.

Queasiness rolled up her spine. Must her father direct every moment? In his late forties, Mr. Slayton was nearly as old as her folks. And as big as a giant.

She nodded goodbye to James—for the moment—and slipped her hand into the palm of this rich gold miner, one of the Klondike’s newest millionaires.

He waltzed her into the crowd. She held her face away from his sweaty neck.

It was said Mr. Slayton had more gold than he could carry. More than he could spend in a lifetime. But his problem was the same as everyone else’s who’d struck it rich, here in the middle of nowhere at the end of civilization.

Nothing to buy. No place to spend his massive fortune. The shops and tented stores couldn’t keep up with the demand for clothing, utensils, furniture, and everything else that most folks back home in Montana took for granted.

“Been a long cold winter,” said Mr. Slayton.

She nodded. Her hair tugged from its bun as he spun her around a little too freely. “Yes, sir.”

“Fella gets awful lonely.”

“Yes, sir.”

“A wife is what I need.”

“Yes…no…I see.”

Her temple throbbed. Her fingers, moist with perspiration, slipped against his grip. She dreaded what he might say next.

“And in case you’re wonderin’, my nuggets are the size of eggs.”

Good grief. How crass.

Milly’s gaze darted about for a means of escape. Cora and Rose were also on the dance floor, being whirled about by a shopkeeper, and another gold miner even older than Milly’s.

To her rescue, one of the youthful Baldwin brothers appeared. “Your parents suggested I come say hello.”

With great relief and giving the pleasant bartender her best show of welcome, she moved forward, intending to place her hand in his.

Instead, a familiar figure slid in. Weston snatched her hand and placed his other firmly against her waist.

Firmly.

Her pulse leaped.

“She’s mine this time, Baldwin.”

Had Weston asked permission from her father?

She stared open-mouthed across the floor, searching for her parents, but Weston yanked her back to look at him.

She stared up at the cut of his dark blond eyebrows, the strong lines of his jaw and cheekbone. With a tingle racing through her stomach, Milly didn’t know how to stop him from entwining his fingers into hers.

“Have you asked permission?” she said.

“The only permission I need is yours.”

He paused for a moment to let her respond while her heart pounded against her ribs.

Piano music filled the hall. Guitars strummed. Banjo pickers added flavor to the waltz.

She should object. She should say no. He gave her precisely two seconds, then taking her silence for a yes, he pressed his warm palm against the plunging back of her dress and led her firmly across the floor.

Firmly.

(continued. . . .)

Kate Bridges is another Friday cupid and shares with us some of her most favorite and romantic places on our small blue orb.  She also has a Harlequin Historical release coming – Klondike Fever, 1 Apr 08.

Do you believe in love at first sight? I do. In my case, it’s with a city.

What could be more romantic than witnessing the most famous train in the world, the Orient Express, pulling up on the platform in the most romantic city in the world, Venice? Many moons ago, when my husband was just my boyfriend and we were backpacking across Europe, I was struck by the adventure of the moment when we disembarked from our own grimy train, to be standing next to those posh and elegant coaches. At the time, we were poor students. We stopped to stare at the first-class passengers with their Louis Vuitton luggage, European suits, and perfumed hairstyles. Many of them were headed to Asia, but we had our own quiet agenda of discovering this intimate Italian city. As the Orient Express rumbled out of the station, we stepped out to the Grand Canal of Venice. And wow! Love at first sight.

My second most romantic choice sits on the opposite side of the world, close to the Arctic circle and far from the rest of civilization. Yukon Territory in Canada. A year ago, my husband and I—and we now have a daughter who joined us—explored the route the Klondike stampeders took over the treacherous mountains. What I’ll remember most about the Yukon is the wonderful smell. I’ve never inhaled such pure fresh air. Every step I took brought a different scent—pine trees, wild mountain flowers, moss, rivers that churned up ancient glacial silt. And how about that view?

The photos of Venice and the Yukon River are my own. My trip to the Yukon and Alaska inspired my current series set in the Klondike. For more photos, please visit my site.

Do you have a favorite romantic place?

For a chance to win a free advance copy of my upcoming April Harlequin Historical, KLONDIKE FEVER, please leave a comment on this post and I’ll put your name into a draw. Two winners to be chosen today!

Kate