Shot Through the Heart by @AndiDowning is a Western Event pick #western #historicalromance #giveaway
Title: Shot Through the Heart
Author: Andrea Downing
Genre: Western Historical Romance
Gunslinger Shiloh Coltrane has returned home to work the family's Wyoming ranch, only to find there's still violence ahead. His sister and nephew have been murdered, and the killers are at large.
Dr. Sydney Cantrell has come west to start her medical practice, aiming to treat the people of a small town. As she tries to help and heal, she finds disapproval and cruelty the payment in kind.
When the two meet, it's an attraction of opposites. As Shiloh seeks revenge, Sydney seeks to do what's right.
Each wants a new life, but will trouble or love find them first?
Sydney watched as he rolled out his bedroll where the table had been, now pushed aside. “I’ll get you some fresh water,” she said as she made a move toward the door.
“No. You don’t know who might be lurking out there, who might’ve snuck up. I’ll go.”
Frustrated, she stamped her foot. “You are sooo annoying! You won’t be here tomorrow night, or the night after. I look after myself, Mr. Coltrane! I—”
“I thought we were using first names now.” His hands found his hips and he had that funny smile once more.
She pursed her lips, tried to hold in her anger. “It doesn’t matter what I call you! You are still the most infuriating man I’ve ever met.”
“Met many, then?” He had one brow up and a smirk now.
“I’m a doctor. Of course I’ve ‘met’ many.”
“Dead or alive?”
“Very funny.” She grabbed the dishcloth and flicked it before spreading it out on the handle of the range. “Good night!”
“Good night, Sydney,” he said mildly as she headed for her bedroom and slammed the door.
In the dark, she lay as she did many nights, the moon glowing through her window, a shadow cast of the cross panes, her thoughts simmering in her brain. He had asked why she had become a doctor and her answer had not been the complete truth. She recalled now a dinner party her parents had given when she was sixteen, new acquaintances her father had met at his bank, a professor and his wife. Sydney had formed an instant attachment to them, held the woman in high esteem, admired her greatly for being a doctor, having a profession. And the husband! It had been love at first sight, or what she considered love at her tender age, a ‘crush,’ infatuation of the deepest variety. Not only had he been kind, handsome, and good-natured, unlike the example her own father had set, but he was learned and interesting, fascinating even. She would have walked over freshly fired nails had he asked her. The example they had set stayed with her. She would emulate them, walk the same path as they.
From the front room came the sound of the board creaking as Shiloh turned in his sleep. A very different man from Professor Willis. A man who took things into his own hands, a man of doing, of action rather than study, complacency and thought. There was something here that attracted her as well. There was kindness in Coltrane, but kindness of a different sort, and where the professor had been handsome with his goatee, dark eyes, and studious, respectable demeanor, Shiloh Coltrane had a sort of rough and ready beauty to him, the unkempt appearance and bearing of someone who worked hard to get what he wanted. That, too, was very appealing.
Her loneliness grew on her, was amplified with the knowledge there was a man in the next room whose soft, even breathing she imagined she could hear. Other things she could imagine, too. Sleeping in his arms, his hard body wrapped around her, their legs entwined, the intimacy of shared jokes, little whispers through the soft night. And if she went through that door? If she lay down next to him?
If she could just have the peace of companionship for one night?
Her bed moaned slightly as she shifted her weight to touch her bare feet to the floor; her light nightdress fell about her. Cat-like, she tiptoed and clasped the doorknob, stopped in her tracks, wondered if she knew what she was doing, and why she was doing it? Just a peek, she told herself. Just a glance to let her imagination know better. A kind of yearning and curiosity rolled into one.
Giving in to her own inability to sleep unless she just had this one glimpse of him, she turned the knob and slipped into the front room. The profile of Shiloh bundled in his bedroll, lit by the moon, greeted her. She advanced with care, afraid to wake him, and then heard the metallic clunk as his gun hit the floor. She stood and stared down at him: his hands cradled his head, elbows akimbo, the thin smile upon his lips.
And then he reached out his hand, his palm open, and she let the long fingers wrap around her wrist and guide her down.
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A native New Yorker, Andrea Downing divides her year between the canyons of city streets and the wide-open spaces of Wyoming. Her background in publishing and English Language teaching has transferred into fiction writing, and her love of horses, ranches, rodeo, and anything else western, is reflected in her award-winning western romances. She has twice been a finalist for the RONE Awards, winner of the Favorite Hero along with several Honorable Mentions in the Maple Leaf Awards, and winner of the Golden Quill for best novella for Dearest Darling.
Social Media Links:
Twitter: @andidowning https://twitter.com/AndiDowning
Amazon Author Page : https://www.amazon.com/Andrea-Downing/e/B008MQ0NXS%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share
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