Asher’s Secret by Sarah Lamb is a Western Fiction/Romance Event pick #historicalwestern #historicalromance #western #giveaway
top of page
  • N. N. Light
    • Apr 26
    • 6 min read

Asher’s Secret by Sarah Lamb is a Western Fiction/Romance Event pick #historicalwestern #historicalromance #western #giveaway



Title: Asher’s Secret

 

Author: Sarah Lamb

 

Genre: Western Historical Romance

 

Book Blurb:

 

The plan? Pretend he’s her betrothed and try not to fall in love.

 

Sheriff Asher Steele doesn’t plan to settle down. Not ever. In fact, he avoids the ladies all together. And he doesn’t plan to explain why that is. No one’s been able to break through the walls of his emotions and that’s just the way he likes it.

 

But when Isabelle Bowman comes to town with a secret of her own, and a heap of trouble following her, he might be the only one who can help her. What he’s not counting on is falling in love along the way and considering opening the walls of his heart to protect her.

 

Running from her half-brother, who desires nothing more than to kill Isabelle Bowman and take her inheritance, she’s desperate for a place to hide. Uninterested in marriage, she thinks the sheriff’s idea is preposterous. But she’s left with no option. With no funds, a sheriff who thinks she’s a troublemaker or a liar, and his plan that will never work, she’s sure things are not going to end well.

 

But could they both be wrong about what the future holds?

 

Excerpt:

 

The stagecoach jerked to a stop and Isabelle Bowman waited impatiently for her turn to climb out. Her legs felt like jelly and she needed to use the necessary in a most urgent way, but she’d put up with all of that, or more, if she could just keep traveling. 

 

            Unfortunately, she was almost out of money, and didn’t have enough to go even one stop farther. She hoped that she’d be able to find some work as soon as possible so she could be on her way again.

 

            The urge to look over her shoulder was strong, but she didn’t dare. Doing so would give it away that she was a woman on the run. With one hand raised to block out the sun, she took her bag that was handed down from the driver and asked, “Is there a boarding house nearby?” 

 

            “Yes’m,” the man answered. “That large white house down the way.” 

 

            Isabelle turned to where he pointed. Good. It wasn’t far. It also looked over the town, so she could watch who came and who went, if she desired. And she did. “Thank you,” she answered, and started walking in the direction of the lodging. Perhaps they wouldn’t be too expensive. 

 

            The town seemed a good size. Large enough to offer employment and to blend in with the population. There appeared to be a wonderful variety of stores, and perhaps one would hire her. She stepped briskly from the street onto a small walkway leading to the boarding house. “Please be an affordable vacancy,” she whispered.

 

            Her knuckles were raised to knock when the door opened suddenly, and two women stood there, a young one with her bag being unceremoniously pushed out, the other an older but spry looking woman, yelling, “I don’t tolerate thievery. Out you go, girl. Quick, before I call the sheriff. I can’t believe you!” 

 

            The first ran down the walkway without hesitation, and Isabelle found herself under scrutiny from the second woman. The look was so menacing, she took a half step back. “Can I help you?” the woman finally asked. 

 

            “Yes, I came to inquire about a room,” Isabelle said. If only there had been another choice, she’d have taken it. She wasn’t sure this woman was someone she wanted to live with—not even for just a few days.

 

            “I’ve some openings,” the woman said. “I’m Sarah Donovan. I’m sorry you had to see that. I’d hired that girl to help me keep the rooms cleaned, and caught her stealing twice.” 

 

            “That’s terrible,” Isabelle said. Then an idea came to mind. “Does that mean that you could use some help, as well?” 

 

            “It all depends,” Mrs. Donovan said. “I don’t cotton to thieves. Are you one?” 

 

            “No, ma’am,” Isabelle said. “My name is Isabelle Bowman, and I’m traveling to California. However, I miscalculated my expenses, and I need to work before continuing on.” 

 

            Mrs. Donovan squinted at her. “You a mail-order bride? Usually it’s the man who pays for all that.” 

 

            “No, I’m not,” Isabelle said. The idea wasn’t unappealing though. Why had she not thought of that sooner? A name change, a husband…it was the perfect plan to escape and stay in hiding. 

 

            Except for one thing, she reminded herself. Wasn’t she running away from a forced marriage? In fact, she was so put off by the idea, she didn’t intend to ever marry. Especially a stranger. Admittedly, she could do worse than be a mail-order bride. Most anyone was preferable to what her brother had arranged. If she hadn’t left when she did, she might not still be alive. 

 

            “Miss Bowman?” 

 

            Her head snapped up. “My apologies. I’m a bit tired from the stage.” 

 

            “Understandable,” Mrs. Donovan answered. “I’ve never appreciated being crammed in those things when I visit my friend Dorothy Meeks in Cottonwood Falls. And it’s just a short ride. I can’t imagine days in it.”

 

            She followed the other woman through the house and down a long hallway. They stopped in front of a door, and Mrs. Donovan unlocked it. Isabelle looked beyond. The room was small and simple, with just a single bed, a few hooks on the wall, a washbasin and stand, and a chest, but it had a nice window, looked clean, and was most welcome. 

 

            Her body ached from the stagecoach jolting, and the lack of room while being squeezed in with so many others. The bed looked inviting, and she was eager to stretch out on it, and not feel cramped for the first time in days. Even the floor would have felt luxurious compared to the coach.

 

            “You can start tomorrow morning,” Mrs. Donovan said. “Your duties are fairly simple. I send out the laundry, so you just need to change the bedsheets and towels once a week, dust the rooms, make sure the windows are wiped down, and also tend to the parlor and front foyer daily. You’ll rotate so that you do one of the guest rooms a day, plus the parlor and foyer.

 

            “We’ve a quiet house,” Mrs. Donovan continued. “The sheriff lives here. Takes some of his meals here, too. Since sometimes his hours are odd, I do let him do a cold meal or two in his room.” 

 

            The sheriff? Isabelle felt her stomach clench in worry. What if her brother had shared what she looked like? He had threatened to tell everyone she was deranged. Was she being looked for? Was this sheriff going to send her back to Pennsylvania where she’d worked so hard to get away from? She swallowed, her throat too tight to answer, and nodded. The smile she plastered on her face she was sure looked sickly, but perhaps the other woman wouldn’t notice.  

 

            After telling her where she could wash her dress, Mrs. Donovan left and closed the door behind her. Isabelle sat on her bed and looked around. Her good idea of stopping in this town and asking for work suddenly felt very worrying. Of all the places to find lodging and a job, she had to do it right where the sheriff lived.

 

            Her mistakes were piling up.

 

Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub):

 

 

 

What makes your featured book a must-read?

 

We all have a story about ourselves that we believe. Sometimes, it just takes the right person to come along and change what’s written. Asher is about to discover that person. Unfortunately, by the time he does, it might be too late.

 

Giveaway –

 

Enter to win a $20 Amazon gift card:

 

 

Open Internationally.

 

Runs April 23 – April 30, 2024.

 

Winner will be drawn on May 1, 2024.

 

Author Biography:

 

Sarah is wife to an amazing teacher and mom to two boys who are growing up just a little too fast. Her day job is helping others to become writers, while she squeezes in each spare moment she can on her own books. She spends her days working and writing in the Blue Ridge Mountains and planning her next trip to Disney World.

 

Social Media Links:

 

Facebook



Tags:

bottom of page