Distant Mountains Settlers Book 2
available soon at Books We Love
Even in the prospering colony of New South Wales, it would be far-fetched to think a convicted man could consider marrying the daughter of a wealthy property owner.
"Amidst the sweet romance and tenderness, Ms. McGill adds the excitement of spousal abuse, bushrangers, forced marriage, kidnapping, and Remy's imprisonment and torture. She shows that a talented author can take a romance and turn it into so much more. I couldn't put it down and I bet you won't be able to either. I've become an avid Tricia McGill fan!" Brett Scott The Romance Studio 4ROSES
Now here's my six:
Yes, he was still a convict, with five years to go before he could claim his ticket of leave, but compared to life before Tiger rescued him, this was the next best thing to being able to hold his head up as a free man.
Bella’s nursemaid, Agnes, smiled shyly at Rem as she joined her mistress on the porch. Rosie, the eight-month-old and youngest of Bella and Tiger’s brood, rested on Agnes’ hip. Agnes, seventeen and a plain little thing, had been with Bella and Tiger since they set out on their epic journey across the mountains in 1824.
“Isn’t it a fine day?” Rem asked the girl, knowing she would agree with him if he declared it was as hot as hell, and the sun had blistered his skin. It was flattering to be idolized. Bothersome at times, but nonetheless a wonderful thing to have a female willing to do anything he asked. Some devil inside him often wanted to see to what lengths she would go to please him, although his kind heart wouldn’t allow him to do it.
“It certainly is,” Agnes agreed, as he’d known she would. “‘
'Tis a bit cool, but
that’s not to be sniffed at. Beats summer when the sun makes you shrivel.”
Agnes didn’t like the hot weather. She complained it burned her fair skin, brought her out in freckles, made her skin go blotchy, and made her feel weak as a dish rag. Although complained wasn’t the right word to use; Agnes never did anything quite so definite. She was too mousy and insignificant. A small apologetic grumble was about as close to a complaint she dared to venture.
Bella nodded to Rem and went back inside the house. Agnes’s skin turned to the color of a beet as she stared at Rem. Her eyelashes were so light they could barely be seen—this only added to her mouse-like appearance. She jerked the baby higher into her arms, and bobbed Rosie about on her ample hip until the child squealed. As if surprised at what she’d done, Agnes crooned soft words of apology to the baby.
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