"A collection of sweet romantic stories that are just right for any time of the year!"
Reviewed by Sharon Galligar Chance
Posted July 8, 2012
Romance Contemporary | Romance Anthology
BE MY TEXAS VALENTINE is a charming collection of stories
from bestselling author Jodi Thomas, Linda Broday, Phyliss
Miranda and DeWanna Pace that are perfect romantic reading
for anytime of the year. Jodi Thomas' story - "The Valentine Curse," is a sweet tale
about two lost souls who find that love is still available
for them, even if everyone around them thinks it's
impossible. Readers will enjoy the feisty characters of
Valerie Allen, the widow with the unfortunate past that
makes her seem to be cursed, and Brody Monroe, the Union
solider-turned cowboy who takes a chance on Valerie and
finds the love of his life - if he can just survive long
enough to enjoy it. Linda Broday's contribution to this collection is
entitled "Cupid's Arrow," and is a story of how
misunderstandings and miscommunications almost cost Rue Ann
Spencer and her former beau Logan Cutter a chance at
finding true happiness with each other. Linda's talent for
writing witty, snappy dialogue and endearing storylines is
clearly evident in this tale, and I absolutely fell in love
with her charming and mischievous Barlow Sisters, the
unexpected driving force behind reuniting the two lovers!
Can't wait to see more stories featuring these two lively
ladies! "Loving Miss Laurel," Phyliss Miranda's story, finds a
determined young lady facing her former love when it comes
to whether the town of Farley Springs gets their roads
paved in anticipation of the railroad coming, or a new
library. Laurel Dean Womack, recently back from her
schooling back East, finds herself pitted against saloon
owner Hunter Campbell and during their battles they soon
find that there is still a passion between them just
waiting to be ignited. Readers will adore the lively
characters in this tale, and enjoy the historical facts
sprinkled into the story as well. And last, but certainly not least, is DeWanna Pace's
tale, "Sweet Talk." Handsome Dr. Noah Powell is a busy man
as the doctor in Longhorn City, and while he is much sought-
after by the ladies in town, he prefers to lavish his
attention on his lovebird, Amigo, during what little spare
time he has. But he soon finds his affections being turned
in the unlikely direction of the lovely JoEmma Brown.
Wheelchair bound after a bought of scarlet fever, JoEmma is
an unusual girl who would rather spend time with her plants
and her own peach-faced lovebird Gabby, but she has always
felt an attraction to Noah, but would prefer not to battle
her sister Angelina for his attention. However, when Gabby
flies the coop and is found cozied up to Noah's Amigo, the
two humans are drawn together by their birds'
new "relationship" and find there is a spark between them
that is just waiting to be fanned into a romantic flame.
DeWanna's gentle characterization of JoEmma and the dignity
she granted the character is just wonderful. She showed how
JoEmma handled her situation being confined to a wheelchair
with dignity and grace. Many kudos for this portrayal. BE MY TEXAS VALENTINE is like a lovely box of chocolates -
there are treats galore just waiting to be savored by
romance fans!
SUMMARY
In Texas, Valentine’s Day is for restless hearts,
brave
second chances, and passions rekindled. New York
Times bestselling author Jodi Thomas, Linda Broday,
Phyliss Miranda, and DeWanna Pace tempt you with four
delicious treats… Out on these rugged plains, love never comes easy. And
four
daring ladies will do whatever it takes to capture the
hearts of four irresistibly sweet-talking Texans... When a
quiet foreman comes to the aid of a mystery lady, they'll
find that this perfect starlit night is made for
courtin'... A determined heiress gambles high to reclaim the
rancher she's never stopped wanting... When a spirited lady
and a go-getter mayor compete for their town's future,
it's
two dreams for a lifetime... And to attract a lonely doctor's
attention, a shy young woman needs courage - and two
unlikely matchmakers...
ExcerptChapter One February 1867 Broderick Monroe shouldered his saddle and moved across
the
corral toward the barn. He wore a week's worth of trail
dirt
sweated into his clothes and hadn't slept in three days
or
eaten in two. All he wanted to do was make sure his horse
had plenty of food and fall into his bunk. After about
eight
hours' sleep, he'd have enough energy to wash and eat
whatever the cook had left over on the stove. "That you, Brody?" someone yelled from just inside the
darkened barn. "I thought you'd make it in before dawn
and
looks like I was right." Brody, as everyone in this part of the world called him,
didn't answer. In the year he'd been at the Double R,
he'd
learned to keep quiet. Though it had been almost two
years
since the War Between the States ended, Southerners in
Texas
still didn't like the sound of aYankee working among
them.
Brody had managed to find a pocket in East Texas where
every
man he worked with had either fought for the South or
lost
loved ones in the war. He'd thought of moving on, but it
had
taken him months to find this job and even the cook's
leftovers were better than nothing to eat. Caleb, the brokendown cowhand who took care of the barn
and
most of the gear, followed him through the darkness to
the
tack room. "You know, Brody, I'd clean your tack for you
and
take care of that devil of a horse you ride. It's part of
my
job." "I do my own." He'd learned the hard way a month after
he'd
arrived and his saddle girth had been cut. The old man leaned against a bench in the tack room.
"Truth
be told, I'm surprised you made it back this early. I
figured you'd try to avoid this evening if you could,
what
with the dance and all." "I finished the job. I plan to sleep through the dance.
It's
none of my concern." Brody knew that half the time the
other
cowhands made bets on whether he'd make it back alive. He
always drew the worst assignments. If an animal was hurt
or
dying or crazy with loco weed, he rode out alone.
Probably
the only reason he hadn't been fired was because he kept
more cattle from dying than anyone on the place. "I knew if anyone could get those cattle out of the
canyon,
you could. Boss told me he'd already written them off for
a
loss so any you saved was money in the bank." "I got eleven out and closed the gap that let them into
that
tiny canyon with enough rocks to stop any more from
wandering in. Had to leave one. She was about to calf."
Brody thought that if a storm didn't come in the next few
weeks, he'd find time to go back and get her and the
calf.
He didn't like leaving the cow, but at least she could
defend herself and there was enough buffalo grass to eat.
The calf would be no match for a coyote, though. Caleb rolled a cigarette with fingers so busted up they
looked to have extra knuckles. "You may not care nothing
about people, Brody, but you do seem to like animals, and
I
can't fault a man for that." Brody didn't need the old man's praise. He didn't need
anyone. He'd learned a long time ago that an animal, any
animal, was more predictable than a human. He'd gone
through
the war sending his money home to buy a farm, only to
find
that his sweetheart was living on the place his money had
bought with her new husband and had been for almost three
years while she wrote him loving letters. When he'd asked why she didn't wait, she'd said simply
that
she was just holding on to Brody in letters until someone
better came along. "You best get cleaned up." Caleb had
been
talking, but Brody hadn't been listening. "Why?" "You may think you can sleep, but every man's got to
attend.
Before the sun sets, this place will be all decorated for
Mrs. Molly Clair's annual Valentine's Party. Folks will
be
riding in from any ranch within thirty miles. Red and
white
ribbons will be on every pole in the place. Every single
gal
from fourteen to eighty will be here." "I'm not interested." Caleb laughed. "Well, you better get interested. Mrs.
Molly
Clair says every one of the men on the place including me
better be dancing ready because she's not having a girl
going home without having worn a blister or two." Brody walked out of the barn as the sun came up. He had
no
intention of attending a party. With all that was
happening,
no one would notice if he slept the night away. No one
ever
noticed him. Men were leaving the bunkhouse, heading over to
breakfast,
as he walked in. A few cowhands had warmed up enough to
give
him a nod now and then, but most ignored him completely.
He
thought of grabbing a bite before he turned in, but
reconsidered. It wasn't worth the hassle. When he tried
to
eat with the others, he was always reminded that he
wasn't
one of them. The bunkhouse cleared as he propped his
boots
on the porch and removed his spurs. He walked to the back
of
the large quarters and found his bunk in the privacy of a
little builton bay that had once stored wood. It was
drafty, cold in winter and hot in summer, but it was away
from the others. Brody stripped down to his long johns and crammed his
dirty
clothes into an already full bag. All he had left was his
gototown clothes, a white shirt and black wool trousers.
He'd have to wear them to work in if he didn't go into
town
soon. Unlike the others, he didn't pay the cook to wash his
laundry. The first time he had, the shirts had been
ripped
and the jeans looked like they'd only been dunked in
water
once then left to dry in a ball. He'd used his entire
first
month's pay to buy enough clothes to last until he could
have the laundry in town do them. Most hands rode into
town
on Saturday nights, but Brody picked Monday morning. The
boss would have probably said something, but his wife,
Mrs.
Molly Clair, always had a list of things she needed. After putting his few belongings away, as he'd been
taught
in the army, Brody finally tumbled into bed, too
exhausted
to care about anything beyond the plank walls of his
little
room. He didn't know if he'd slept an hour or a dozen, but he
awoke with a start when someone kicked his bunk. "Wake up, Yank." Caleb's voice finally reached Brody's
brain. "Mrs. Molly Clair sent me to fetch you. The boss
says
he's serious about firing anyone who doesn't show up to
the
dance, and Mrs. Molly Clair thinks she's got a job you
can
handle." "Why don't you just tell her you couldn't find me?" Brody
grumbled. "I thought about it. Lord knows no one in this
place would miss you." Caleb straightened and scratched his head. "Ever since
you
doctored her horse that the boss was going to put down,
she
thinks you're needed about the place. Says you're as good
a
vet as she's ever seen and the only man around the place
who
can read her writing and bring back what she needs from
town." "I'm not needed at the dance." Brody sat up and ran his
hand
through hair so dirty it felt stiff. Caleb grinned, showing both his teeth. "Oh, yes you are.
I
heard her say she was going to sit you next to Widow
Allen.
Nobody likes to talk to her, and she never has two words
to
say to them that tries. So your job tonight might as well
be
sitting next to a post." "What's wrong with the widow?
Why
doesn't she just sit with the other old women?" "She ain't old and nothing's the matter with her that I
can
see from a distance. She's right pretty, and as long as
she's in black, no man has to ask her to dance, but Mrs.
Molly Clair don't like her sitting all alone." "Why'd she come?" It crossed Brody's mind that the lady
might have dropped by just to irritate him. Everyone else
for a hundred miles had already had a turn. Caleb shrugged. "I'm guessing that daddy of hers made
her.
She's his only chick so he's wanting the best for her
even
if she is nearly thirty. Her old man don't believe in the
curse surrounding her." Brody came full awake. "Curse. What curse?" For the first
time the lady sounded like she might be interesting. He
found it hard to believe that there might be another
outcast living in the area besides him. Caleb followed him to the washroom and watched while
Brody
pumped water for a bath. "Oh, it's nothing to worry
about. I
don't believe it myself, though I try not to take
chances.
You got more lives than a cat, near as I can tell. You'll
be
fine." "What curse?" Brody repeated as he stripped and stepped
into
a cold bath. "Well, they say a man cuts a month off his
life
if just her shadow falls across him." The old man's eyes
opened wide as he settled, seeming in no hurry to go back
to
the barn dance. "And if a fellow should be dumb enough to
touch her, say shake hands, he might as well saddle up
for
the doctor because he'll be sick, maybe dead by morning.
I've heard several say they got to feeling poorly just
passing too close to her place." "I don't believe in
curses," Brody mumbled as he scrubbed his head. In truth,
he
didn't believe in luck either. He'd never known anything like luck from the point his
parents died when he was fifteen to now. He might as well
get cleaned up and go over to the dance so he could court
a
curse.
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