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Texas Moon
Joan Elliott Pickart
MR. FEBRUARY NAME:Tux Bishop GAME: Private Investigator AIM: Find a suitable wife and settle down DAME: Not woman-in-jeopardy Nancy Shatner! Tux can't explain how he knows trouble is stalking a beautiful stranger. He just knows . He figures he must be destined to protect the unwilling Nancy Shatner, but he can't be destined to marry her!No red-blooded Texas relies on fate to find a woman. That, Tux will do on his own. Just as soon as he can keep his mind - and his hands - off Nancy… . MAN OF THE MONTH: Born under a wild Texas moon, this man of the month is a confirmed Family Man… he just doesn't know it until Nancy rounds him up!
Forget Nancy Shatner? (#u14ca028e-c217-5483-80d9-4cc3511e4604)Letter to Reader (#u02db237a-8cae-5003-a5e0-40ca1b854900)Title Page (#u8faed32f-e5f7-5b8d-b38f-00daaaca5db9)About the Author (#uca70a74c-85e8-59b0-bcee-93c6a8e00a91)Dedication (#uf65cf33e-2e46-56e4-9fef-54a4ca6f7abe)Prologue (#u07a4002c-4983-5fd2-9601-3de80289bd1d)Chapter One (#u052b6c58-334d-5d6e-80ee-3164f0b97599)Chapter Two (#ufd822dea-59e3-5ea5-988b-692ae6021998)Chapter Three (#u3464a39f-f712-5042-ae7a-304ca40dc1ba)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Forget Nancy Shatner?
That was a tad tough to do, considering Tux was spending twenty-four hours a day with the lady. Oh, yeah, a really rough trip, especially when she looked the way she did now.
Her jeans were snug, accentuating her shapely legs and bottom. Her blouse clung to the lush fullness of her breasts. Her hair was shiny, the wild waves fetching in their gypsy-like tumble.
Yes, Nancy Shatner was incredibly beautiful.
Forgetting Nancy Shatner was totally impossible.
So forget forgetting. Tux would concentrate on remembering that she was an assignment. Nothing more, nothing less.
Tux, Bram Blue and Gibson are unforgettable
men with love as endless as the Texas sky—
and just waiting for women
special enough to win their hearts!
Dear Reader,
Happy Valentine’s Day! This season of love is so exciting for us here at Silhouette Desire that we decided to create a special cover treatment for each of this month’s love stories—just to show how much this very romantic holiday means to us.
And what a fabulous group of books we have for you! Let’s start with Joan Elliott Pickart’s MAN OF THE MONTH, Texas Moon. It’s romantic and wonderful—and has a terrific hero!
The romance continues with Cindy Gerard’s sensuous A Bride for Abel Greene, the next in her NORTHERN LIGHTS BRIDES series, and also with Elizabeth Bevarly’s Roxy and the Rich Man, which launches her new miniseries about siblings who were separated at birth, THE FAMILY McCORMICK.
Christine Pacheco is up next with Lovers Only, an emotional and compelling reunion story. And Metsy Hingle’s dramatic writing style shines through in her latest, Lovechild.
It’s always a special moment when a writer reaches her.25the book milestone—and that’s just what Rita Rainville has done in the humorous and delightful Western, City Girls Need Not Apply.
Silhouette Desire—where you will always find the very best love stories! Enjoy them all....
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
Texas Moon
Joan Elliott Pickart
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
JOAN ELLIOTT PICKART is the author of over sixty-five novels. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys watching football, knitting, reading, gardening and attending craft shows on the town square. Joan has three daughters and a fantastic little grandson. Her three dogs and one cat allow her to live with them in a cozy cottage in a charming small town in the high pine country of Arizona.
For my fourth daughter, Autumn Joan Pickart.
Born June 21st, 1995—Nanjing, China.
Home September 27,1995.
And for Hand in Hand International Adoptions,
the miracle makers.
Prologue
“Well, now I declare, isn’t this the nicest surprise? You’ve come to visit Granny Bee. Bring yourself in and have some homemade lemonade. I still make my honey, of course. Was how I got my name Granny Bee.
“Tell you a story? Land’s sake, I’ve been spinnin’ tales as far back as I can remember.
“How would you like to hear about the Bishop boys? Now then, Tux is the oldest, then a year later along came the twins, Blue and Bram. There was so much love in that big, old shabby house, you could feel it by walkin’ in the door.
“Jana-John, the boys’ mama, has been paintin’ pictures ever since I can recall. She doesn’t give a hoot if they’re any good. She’s happy paintin’, and that’s just fine.
“The boys’ daddy is Abraham Lincoln Bishop, and I swear he truly does have the looks of Mr. Lincoln. Abe Bishop was a history professor ‘fore he retired. Now he writes long papers on history doin’s, but I’ve never heard tell of what he does with the things once he writes ’em.
“Now Tux, it was found, had psychic powers. He can see in his mind somethin’ that’s goin’ on far away. He doesn’t fancy doin’ it, ’cause those powers are embarrassin’ to him, makes him feel like folks might not accept him as the person he is, and would figure he was strange. He’d just as soon no one knew ’bout those powers.
“A while back, the boys sat ‘round the table with their folks, and the brothers decided it was time to marry and have some babies. It was as good as done, they thought, as they were used to doin’ what they set out to do. Well, findin’ the right person to love isn’t all that easy. Those boys were in for a mighty big surprise.
“Now, I told you ‘bout Tux’s powers, that he didn’t like havin’. You can just imagine how upsetting it was when those pictures started comin’ without him doin’ one thing to bring ’em. Tux didn’t like that one little bit.
“But, my stars, that’s exactly what was happenin’....”
One
Tux Bishop shot bolt upright in bed, the sound of his pounding heart echoing in his ears. He took a deep, shuddering breath, then dragged both hands down his sweat-soaked face.
“Damn it,” he said, then threw back the sheet and left the bed.
The clock on the nightstand glowed the message that it was just after two in the morning. As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, Tux began to pace naked around the large bedroom.
This was the third night in a row, he fumed. He’d been jolted awake, heart racing, dripping with sweat, three times now.
The dreams he’d been having were not dreams... at least not in the usual sense of the word. That fact was what had him tied in knots and mad as hell.
Tux sank onto the edge of the bed, rested his elbows on his knees and made a steeple of his fingers, tapping it against his lips.
Slow down, calm down, he ordered himself. Ranting, raving and wearing out the carpet wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He had to analyze the situation and try to determine what in the hell was going on.
Yes, okay, he had psychic powers that enabled him to glimpse events taking place anywhere in the world.
But...and that was a very big but...the only way his psychic abilities could be put into operation was by him going into deep meditation, a near-trance, that left him drained and exhausted.
He preferred not to use his detested powers, and rarely did so. He had, in fact, totally ignored them for many years.
But now?
“Damn it,” he said, shaking his head.
He knew that the dreams he’d had for three nights now were not really products of his subconscious mind.
They were not dreams.
The images were psychic messages that had come to him unbidden.
Joan Elliott Pickart
MR. FEBRUARY NAME:Tux Bishop GAME: Private Investigator AIM: Find a suitable wife and settle down DAME: Not woman-in-jeopardy Nancy Shatner! Tux can't explain how he knows trouble is stalking a beautiful stranger. He just knows . He figures he must be destined to protect the unwilling Nancy Shatner, but he can't be destined to marry her!No red-blooded Texas relies on fate to find a woman. That, Tux will do on his own. Just as soon as he can keep his mind - and his hands - off Nancy… . MAN OF THE MONTH: Born under a wild Texas moon, this man of the month is a confirmed Family Man… he just doesn't know it until Nancy rounds him up!
Forget Nancy Shatner? (#u14ca028e-c217-5483-80d9-4cc3511e4604)Letter to Reader (#u02db237a-8cae-5003-a5e0-40ca1b854900)Title Page (#u8faed32f-e5f7-5b8d-b38f-00daaaca5db9)About the Author (#uca70a74c-85e8-59b0-bcee-93c6a8e00a91)Dedication (#uf65cf33e-2e46-56e4-9fef-54a4ca6f7abe)Prologue (#u07a4002c-4983-5fd2-9601-3de80289bd1d)Chapter One (#u052b6c58-334d-5d6e-80ee-3164f0b97599)Chapter Two (#ufd822dea-59e3-5ea5-988b-692ae6021998)Chapter Three (#u3464a39f-f712-5042-ae7a-304ca40dc1ba)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Forget Nancy Shatner?
That was a tad tough to do, considering Tux was spending twenty-four hours a day with the lady. Oh, yeah, a really rough trip, especially when she looked the way she did now.
Her jeans were snug, accentuating her shapely legs and bottom. Her blouse clung to the lush fullness of her breasts. Her hair was shiny, the wild waves fetching in their gypsy-like tumble.
Yes, Nancy Shatner was incredibly beautiful.
Forgetting Nancy Shatner was totally impossible.
So forget forgetting. Tux would concentrate on remembering that she was an assignment. Nothing more, nothing less.
Tux, Bram Blue and Gibson are unforgettable
men with love as endless as the Texas sky—
and just waiting for women
special enough to win their hearts!
Dear Reader,
Happy Valentine’s Day! This season of love is so exciting for us here at Silhouette Desire that we decided to create a special cover treatment for each of this month’s love stories—just to show how much this very romantic holiday means to us.
And what a fabulous group of books we have for you! Let’s start with Joan Elliott Pickart’s MAN OF THE MONTH, Texas Moon. It’s romantic and wonderful—and has a terrific hero!
The romance continues with Cindy Gerard’s sensuous A Bride for Abel Greene, the next in her NORTHERN LIGHTS BRIDES series, and also with Elizabeth Bevarly’s Roxy and the Rich Man, which launches her new miniseries about siblings who were separated at birth, THE FAMILY McCORMICK.
Christine Pacheco is up next with Lovers Only, an emotional and compelling reunion story. And Metsy Hingle’s dramatic writing style shines through in her latest, Lovechild.
It’s always a special moment when a writer reaches her.25the book milestone—and that’s just what Rita Rainville has done in the humorous and delightful Western, City Girls Need Not Apply.
Silhouette Desire—where you will always find the very best love stories! Enjoy them all....
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
Texas Moon
Joan Elliott Pickart
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
JOAN ELLIOTT PICKART is the author of over sixty-five novels. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys watching football, knitting, reading, gardening and attending craft shows on the town square. Joan has three daughters and a fantastic little grandson. Her three dogs and one cat allow her to live with them in a cozy cottage in a charming small town in the high pine country of Arizona.
For my fourth daughter, Autumn Joan Pickart.
Born June 21st, 1995—Nanjing, China.
Home September 27,1995.
And for Hand in Hand International Adoptions,
the miracle makers.
Prologue
“Well, now I declare, isn’t this the nicest surprise? You’ve come to visit Granny Bee. Bring yourself in and have some homemade lemonade. I still make my honey, of course. Was how I got my name Granny Bee.
“Tell you a story? Land’s sake, I’ve been spinnin’ tales as far back as I can remember.
“How would you like to hear about the Bishop boys? Now then, Tux is the oldest, then a year later along came the twins, Blue and Bram. There was so much love in that big, old shabby house, you could feel it by walkin’ in the door.
“Jana-John, the boys’ mama, has been paintin’ pictures ever since I can recall. She doesn’t give a hoot if they’re any good. She’s happy paintin’, and that’s just fine.
“The boys’ daddy is Abraham Lincoln Bishop, and I swear he truly does have the looks of Mr. Lincoln. Abe Bishop was a history professor ‘fore he retired. Now he writes long papers on history doin’s, but I’ve never heard tell of what he does with the things once he writes ’em.
“Now Tux, it was found, had psychic powers. He can see in his mind somethin’ that’s goin’ on far away. He doesn’t fancy doin’ it, ’cause those powers are embarrassin’ to him, makes him feel like folks might not accept him as the person he is, and would figure he was strange. He’d just as soon no one knew ’bout those powers.
“A while back, the boys sat ‘round the table with their folks, and the brothers decided it was time to marry and have some babies. It was as good as done, they thought, as they were used to doin’ what they set out to do. Well, findin’ the right person to love isn’t all that easy. Those boys were in for a mighty big surprise.
“Now, I told you ‘bout Tux’s powers, that he didn’t like havin’. You can just imagine how upsetting it was when those pictures started comin’ without him doin’ one thing to bring ’em. Tux didn’t like that one little bit.
“But, my stars, that’s exactly what was happenin’....”
One
Tux Bishop shot bolt upright in bed, the sound of his pounding heart echoing in his ears. He took a deep, shuddering breath, then dragged both hands down his sweat-soaked face.
“Damn it,” he said, then threw back the sheet and left the bed.
The clock on the nightstand glowed the message that it was just after two in the morning. As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, Tux began to pace naked around the large bedroom.
This was the third night in a row, he fumed. He’d been jolted awake, heart racing, dripping with sweat, three times now.
The dreams he’d been having were not dreams... at least not in the usual sense of the word. That fact was what had him tied in knots and mad as hell.
Tux sank onto the edge of the bed, rested his elbows on his knees and made a steeple of his fingers, tapping it against his lips.
Slow down, calm down, he ordered himself. Ranting, raving and wearing out the carpet wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He had to analyze the situation and try to determine what in the hell was going on.
Yes, okay, he had psychic powers that enabled him to glimpse events taking place anywhere in the world.
But...and that was a very big but...the only way his psychic abilities could be put into operation was by him going into deep meditation, a near-trance, that left him drained and exhausted.
He preferred not to use his detested powers, and rarely did so. He had, in fact, totally ignored them for many years.
But now?
“Damn it,” he said, shaking his head.
He knew that the dreams he’d had for three nights now were not really products of his subconscious mind.
They were not dreams.
The images were psychic messages that had come to him unbidden.
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