“Thomas is a wonderful storyteller, and her latest offering is a great example of her work – a tender and sweet story of romance. Readers will have their heartstrings gently tugged as the featured characters find their way to one another. Fans of Debbie Macomber will definitely appreciate the Ransom Canyon series.”
–RT Book Reviews
“When it comes to providing a rich backdrop of historical flavor with a beautiful love story, author Jodi Thomas certainly has cornered the market.”
–The Romance Reviews
“The second in the new Ransom Canyon series, Rustler’s Moon is vintage Jodi Thomas using her beloved Texas as a background, and giving readers a terrific character-driven story. Add a mystery and budding romance, and Rustler’s Moon is everything a reader can want.”
–Goodreads Reviewer
On a dirt road marked by haunting secrets, three strangers caught at life's crossroads must decide what to sacrifice to protect their own agendas…and what they're each willing to risk for love.
If there's any place that can convince Angela Harrell to stop running, it's Ransom Canyon. And if there's any man who can reveal desires more deeply hidden than her every fear, it's Wilkes Wagner. Beneath the rancher's honorable exterior is something that just might keep her safe…or unwittingly put her in danger's path.
With his dreams of leaving this small Texas town swallowed up by hard, dusty reality, all Wilkes has to show for his life is the Devil's Fork Ranch. Though not one to let false hope seduce him, he can't deny the quiet and cautious beauty who slips into his world and changes everything.
HQN Books; January 26, 2015
$7.99; 368 pages
ISBN-13: 978-0-373-78862-0
EXCERPT
Crossroads, Texas
October
Angela
Dried weeds scratched against Angela Harold's bare legs as she walked the neglected grounds behind the Ransom Canyon Museum near Crossroads, Texas. Rumbling gray clouds spotted the sky above. Wind raged as though trying to push her back to the East Coast. She decided any rain might blow all the way to Oklahoma before it could land on Texas soil. But the weather didn't matter. She had made it here. She'd done exactly what her father told her. She'd vanished.
Angela had meant to stop long enough to clean up before she took her first look at the museum, but she could not wait. So, in sandals, shorts and a tank top, she explored the land behind the boarded-up building on the edge of Ransom Canyon.
When she'd talked to the board president, Staten Kirkland, five days ago, he'd sounded excited. They'd had to close the museum when the last curator left and in six months she'd been the only one to call about the job opening. Before the phone call ended Kirkland offered her a three-month trial if she could answer one question.
Angela thought it would be about her experience or her education, but it was pure Texas folk history.
"What or who was the Yellow Rose of Texas?" the man on the phone asked in his pure Texas twang.
She laughed. "The woman who entertained Santa Anna before the Battle of San Jacinto. The battle that won Texas independence." She'd always loved that story, which often got left out of history books.
"We'll be waiting for you, Mrs. Jones."
He hung up before she had time to tell him that her name wasn't Jones. In a moment of paranoia, she'd used a false name when she'd bought a laptop and phone. Then again on the application, figuring she'd be just one of hundreds who applied. Now, if he checked her transcripts or references, she'd have to make up another lie. That would be easier than finding some guy named Jones, marrying him and dragging him along to Texas with her.
Angela had driven a hundred miles before she decided she would tell Kirkland that she used Jones because she had been engaged but he left her at the altar. Kirkland would feel sorry for her, but that was better than killing off her imaginary husband.
She'd straighten it all out Monday. She'd even practice just how she'd say it.
October
Angela
Dried weeds scratched against Angela Harold's bare legs as she walked the neglected grounds behind the Ransom Canyon Museum near Crossroads, Texas. Rumbling gray clouds spotted the sky above. Wind raged as though trying to push her back to the East Coast. She decided any rain might blow all the way to Oklahoma before it could land on Texas soil. But the weather didn't matter. She had made it here. She'd done exactly what her father told her. She'd vanished.
Angela had meant to stop long enough to clean up before she took her first look at the museum, but she could not wait. So, in sandals, shorts and a tank top, she explored the land behind the boarded-up building on the edge of Ransom Canyon.
When she'd talked to the board president, Staten Kirkland, five days ago, he'd sounded excited. They'd had to close the museum when the last curator left and in six months she'd been the only one to call about the job opening. Before the phone call ended Kirkland offered her a three-month trial if she could answer one question.
Angela thought it would be about her experience or her education, but it was pure Texas folk history.
"What or who was the Yellow Rose of Texas?" the man on the phone asked in his pure Texas twang.
She laughed. "The woman who entertained Santa Anna before the Battle of San Jacinto. The battle that won Texas independence." She'd always loved that story, which often got left out of history books.
"We'll be waiting for you, Mrs. Jones."
He hung up before she had time to tell him that her name wasn't Jones. In a moment of paranoia, she'd used a false name when she'd bought a laptop and phone. Then again on the application, figuring she'd be just one of hundreds who applied. Now, if he checked her transcripts or references, she'd have to make up another lie. That would be easier than finding some guy named Jones, marrying him and dragging him along to Texas with her.
Angela had driven a hundred miles before she decided she would tell Kirkland that she used Jones because she had been engaged but he left her at the altar. Kirkland would feel sorry for her, but that was better than killing off her imaginary husband.
She'd straighten it all out Monday. She'd even practice just how she'd say it.
AND NOW THE GIVEAWAY
1 lucky US winner
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There was a series by Rebecca York I really liked, but I can't think of the name of it right now!
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