Saga of Sourdough Red
"Shush, Jennifer, don't get upset. I'm not complete, I tell you. I've nothing to offer. You deserve better."
"You're probably right." Her voice quaked just a bit with the struggle
to maintain her dignity. Had she told him she loved him when they were
in the midst of passion? It was hard to remember, but maybe he didn't
He got to his feet and walked a short way to peer over the rail. When he
looked at her, his face was in the shadows, his expression unreadable.
"You're a strong-minded woman, but also you're soft and romantic and
mischievous. Everything a man should find exciting in a mate. And you'll
find the right man soon, sweet Jenny. The wonder is that it hasn't
happened before this. When you do, you'll thank me for being honest with
you." He turned and walked away.
Jenny sat for a long time, even after the air was so cold that she began
to shiver. She'd offered herself to this man, and he'd spurned her.
Tears crowded into her eyes and ran down her cheeks. Boo crept out from
behind the chair and nudged his head under her hand, as if wanting to
comfort her. She was beyond comfort, and it wasn't only the cold that
made her numb. How could she face him for the rest of the journey and
pretend there was no distance between them?
Later, lying in her bunk with her hands behind her head, she stared up
at the ceiling. Where did she go wrong? She accepted the fact that the
miners saw her as one of them, a robust, sturdy survivor. Maybe not
Ivar, but she didn't love Ivar. Same as Neal didn't love her.
Jenny listened to the sound of the ship plowing through the water toward Fairbanks.
Someone is killing executives in a string of Alaskan canneries. Is it
natives because their food supply is being cut short? Or is there
another reason, another culprit? With racial tension running high,
Juneau's Sheriff Amos Darcy, a man of few words, is going to find out
who it is, come hell or high water.
Deputy Sarah Lakat, a Tlingit woman, knows her job, but she wants to
prove her people aren't responsible for these vicious crimes. Her family
and childhood friends give her access to clues the white sheriff would
never have discovered, though, and she has to realize justice must be
served no matter who the murderers are.
Amos is married to his work and Sarah was badly hurt by a man in her
past, yet as they work together in the investigation they grow close,
facing danger and discrimination together. Can they solve the case even
as they fight their attraction to each other?
Every nerve in Amos’ body was alert with a flood of adrenaline. He
hated putting Sarah in danger, but she was a deputy and a good shot, so
he couldn’t tell her not to do her job. Halfway to the porch steps, the
door banged open and Bobby stepped out with a double-barreled shotgun
that he leveled at Amos. “And what would you like, Sheriff? I don’t
remember inviting you over.”
“I have a warrant for your arrest in the killing of Mr. Thornton at the
cannery. Now, we can do this easy. Just pass the shotgun to me and come
“The hell I will! Get off my property!”
Amos dropped and rolled as the shotgun fired, then heard answering fire
and saw Bobby fold to the porch, clutching his knee. Amos ran up the
steps and grabbed the abandoned shotgun while Sarah holstered her weapon
and hurried to help.
Amos leaned the shotgun against the railing and slapped the handcuffs
on Bobby almost simultaneously, and then he set to work cutting the knee
of Bobby’s trousers to check the wound.
Bobby yelled at Sarah at the top of his lungs. “You god-damned traitor!
I'm shot by a turncoat woman who won’t defend her own kind!”
“Who’s my own kind, Bobby? A band of murderous animals who kill for
what they want? No, that’s not my kind.” She picked up the shotgun and
pointed it at Bobby. “I prefer to be on the law-abiding side.”
Frozen rivers, ice bridges, and runaway huskies are romantic tales of
the Iditarod Sled Dog Race, until Andy Middleton moves to Alaska. She
soon discovers there is more to mushing than standing on the back of a
sled. The brooding photographer, Ryan North, who rescues her from a fall
is no help whatsoever. After she bribes him to teach her to mush, and
they are forced to spend the night in a bitter storm, Andy discovers a
talented, competent man.
The last thing Ryan North wants is to get involved with the
foolish redhead from SnowDen Kennels. She nearly hit him with her Jeep,
and she has a temper to match her hair. While he doesn’t trust her, he
admires her unfailing resilience and forthright determination.
“Ohhh, so you’re the new hire.” He lifted a brow and glanced at the hole in the dog food building.
She followed his gaze, before her attention diverted to an unusually
handsome profile. Dark hair curled slightly over his forehead. Tall with
muscular arms, he looked to be somewhere in his early twenties. “I
guess the shed needs repairs too,” she admitted.
“And you’re the girl who plans on running the Iditarod.” His lips curved into a smirk. “Cassandra, is it?”
At his skeptical tone in reference to her name and intentions, she
stiffened. Alex Snowden had been talking. “I go by Andy and I’m not a
girl.” At barely five feet two, she hated being misjudged. Her freckles
didn’t help. “I’m twenty-one and taking online classes at the University
of Alaska.” At least, she had registered for one. “I plan to be a
veterinarian. That should qualify me to run the Iditarod. I also ski and
have good balance.” She knew she sounded naïve.
His brows shot up. “You’re comparing ski poles with a team of huskies?”
He gave a derisive laugh and nodded toward her Jeep. “Mushing the
Iditarod is a lot tougher than driving a car…and a heck of a lot more
dangerous. I don’t mean to sound sexist, but man-handling a sled over a
thousand miles of Alaska’s roughest terrain isn’t like sitting on a
cushioned seat behind a steering wheel.”
Alaska is supposed to be cold, so why is Alanna Cormac on fire?
Sent on a dream assignment to Denali National Park, nature
magazine writer Alanna Cormac has no intentions of falling in love with
Dale Ramsden, sexy Iditarod winner. When Dale, his family, and even his
eighteen sled dogs charm their way into her heart, however, Alanna's
fast-track New York instincts crumble. The Alaskan landscape and the
caress of a man too good to be true ignite feelings she never had time
to explore before. Feelings that have her so blissfully busy she's
unaware she's being watched. Judged. Targeted.
Love will either save her or swallow her whole. Is there a difference?
"When you turn around, look first. You can grab your camera after. Okay?"
"Okay." Anticipation buzzed through me. Or was it being so close to Dale?
With a little nudge, Dale spun me around, and a gasp caught in my
throat. His hands closed over my shoulders, anchoring me, keeping me
earthbound amongst what had to be heaven.
Rising above all the other mountains in the distance, Mount McKinley
reached into the cerulean Alaskan sky like a white giant. Its peaks were
arrowheads of rock encrusted in snow that glistened magically in the
pink of the late afternoon sunlight. How incredibly small I was, like a
speck of dust in comparison to the majesty of McKinley.
"Oh, Dale..." My voice was nothing more than a rasp. I let my pack drop
to my feet and leaned back against him. He folded his arms around me and
squeezed. When I thought the moment couldn't get any closer to
perfection, he loosened my scarf enough to nuzzle his cold nose against
my neck. Though I initially shivered at the contact, he quickly warmed
the spot with the heat of his lips.
Giving McKinley another look, I turned around to face Dale. He trailed
his lips over my cheek and finally to my mouth where he did things that
made my head spin. Our lips met as we tasted, savored each other. Great
Goddess, I had shut myself off for too long. Or maybe I'd been waiting.
Waiting for him.
Whatever the case, Dale unlocked emotions in me. Trust, wanting, love. I
wasn't sure what to do with any of these, but my heart thudded wildly
in my chest over the prospect. My skin longed to have Dale's fingers
spread across every inch of it. My lips wanted him to never stop kissing
"Take your pictures." The words were a whisper. "And let's go."
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