THE WILD, WILD WEST

Mercy Clarke had no trouble getting a hundred head of cattle to Abilene. Getting back home through five hundred miles of untamed frontier is something else again, especially with a handsome gambler like Thad Buchanan tagging along. He swears to pay her in gold if she guides him to Fort Victory, but she doesn’t quite trust his fine manners and gentlemanly ways. And then there’s that look in his eyes—he could almost make her forget that she’s sworn off men for good . . .

As Thad sees it, the same rules apply to playing poker and loving women: it’s all about knowing when to hold ‘em. And come to think of it, a pretty lady like Mercy Clarke would fit very nicely in his arms. Now, if she could be persuaded to put down that rawhide whip and tell him exactly what she has in mind, he has no doubt they could come to an agreement that will satisfy them both. No doubt at all...

LOVING MERCY ©Teresa Bodwell From Chapter One . . . Mercy lifted the brim of her hat and peered deeper into the shadows of the hotel lobby. She drew a deep breath, and released it. A woman alone couldn't afford to show any sign of emotion. Not if she intended to succeed in a man's world. Once her eyes had adjusted, Mercy stepped onto the thick oriental carpet. All around, men sat reading newspapers and drinking coffee. Real coffee, not the muck she'd been drinking on the trail. The aroma made her mouth water. On the other side of the lobby, a group of men surrounded a broad-shouldered fellow with a thick bronze mustache and golden hair that hung over the collar of his dark suit. They were a mixed group--two men in suits and three men with leather chaps strapped over their wool trousers--all intent on the man who towered over them. She stepped toward the group. “Mr. Robinson?” He stopped talking and focused on her. Damn, he was big. She took another step toward him, tilting her head up to hold his gaze as he studied her face. “I'm afraid you just missed him, sir.” She spun toward the voice, a pudgy cowboy perched on a brocaded settee with spindle legs that seemed too fragile to hold him. “Er . . . um.” His eyes paused on her face before taking the long journey down to her boots and up again. She clenched her teeth, forcing herself to maintain a pleasant smile. It wasn't the first time she'd been mistaken for a man. “Er, that is, ma'am?” “Do you mean he's already left?” “Er . . .” The man lifted his china cup with his right hand, held it up for a moment and replaced it delicately on the saucer he held in his left hand. His manners seemed better suited for afternoon tea with the Queen and Mercy cleared her throat to cover a laugh. “I have business with him.” She took a step closer to the settee, trying to encourage a quicker response. The fellow blinked. “Surely you aren't the . . . Oh, dear.” The man squinted up at her. “You ain't the whore . . . er, the professional woman that's been arranged for . . .” He stood up, but still had to crane his neck to look her in the eye. “Hell, Mr. Robinson's a city man. He's used to women who are a good deal cleaner. And dressed . . . well, dressed--” Several men sniggered and Mercy's cheeks warmed as she felt the entire room focus on her. “I'm here to see Robinson about the cattle sale,” she said, through clenched teeth. “Well, uh--” “I reckon that explains the cowboy getup,” said a toothless fellow seated in the corner. This remark drew appreciative guffaws from the assembly. “I believe you owe the lady an apology.” A bass voice rumbled behind her and Mercy turned to see the blonde man she'd noticed before striding forward, apparently bent on sticking his nose into her business. She pivoted back to the corner where Mr. Toothless sank into his chair, perhaps hoping the upholstery would swallow him. Now that he stood beside her, making her feel short for the first time in her life, she realized the tall man could not be a prosperous cattle buyer. His dark jacket, worn and faded gray, fit snugly over a shirt that had probably been white at one time. The broad shoulders, which endangered the seams of his jacket, tapered into a sinewy neck and handsome face that no doubt attracted female attention wherever he went. She judged the man to be one of the mavericks who wandered the West making their living by gambling and other questionable activities. The intensity of his azure eyes would have been frightening enough if he'd been of average stature, but he stood at least six foot four. His brawny build gave him an authority that no one in the room challenged. Mercy's throat constricted as the stranger turned and locked eyes with her. The fearsome glare had vanished, replaced by a look she couldn't read. Curiosity, most likely. His thick mustache twitched as he formed a smile. No doubt, he expected some display of feminine helplessness. She'd as soon wrestle a porcupine as swoon over this man. She turned back to the other men who were examining the rug beneath their feet. The room was now utterly silent. “No apologies necessary, gentlemen,” Mercy mustered a lighthearted tone and even managed to wave a hand, as though to dismiss all of the insults the men had hurled at her. Truth be told, she'd rather be compared to a shameless sporting woman, than have these fellows think she couldn't stand up for herself. “Appreciate the fashion advice.” She winked at the fellow in the corner, then gave the maverick her most withering glare. “A gal never knows when she may need a new trade.” AMAZON.COM or your favorite book store! "Part of Kensington's new Zebra Debut line, this is an impressive first book. Readers who dote on the spunky heroines in the exciting tales of the Old West by Jodi Thomas . . . will enjoy Bodwell's spirited tale of a courageous woman and the man she tries very hard not to love." - Shelley Mosley, Booklist. "Loving Mercy is certainly a fine debut, and Bodwell has a way with her characters. By the end I really began to think of Thad and Mercy as real people, and I especially liked the way the author pulls off the role reversal. Mercy is the more opinionated Alpha, while Thad is the more understanding Beta with Alpha leanings. Prickly rancher softening with true love is certainly nothing new as far as plots go, but when that prickly rancher is the heroine it makes for a nice spin." Wendy Crutcher, The Romance Reader. "New author Bodwell's fresh, vibrant voice adds spunk, emotional intensity and sensuality to the conventional western dangerous journey, and she is going to make a mark on the genre." - Kathe Robin, Romantic Times Bookclub Magazine. "I really enjoyed reading this fine historical romance. Bodwell writes in a clear, descriptive style that takes the reader into the life and times of the characters. Thad and Mercy emerge as characters of depth and presence. I can=t wait to read about them in the next book in the series." - Jeri Neal, The Romance Reader Conncection "LOVING MERCY is a wonderful tale that will have you sitting on the edge of your seat . . . truly the ultimate love story . . ." - Kimberly Leslie, Romance Junkies "Bodwell's debut novel is a sweet historical romance guaranteed to melt the reader's heart. Filled with excitement along the way, readers will reach the end of the book long before they are ready." - Cindy, Love Romances "Author Teresa Bodwell tells a charming story of growing love amongst the plains of Kansas and the mountains of Colorado. Set in post-Civil War America, LOVING MERCY combines romance and adventure to deliver an intriguing historical romance. With bullets flying, bad guys striving to outwit plucky Mercy and wounded Thad, and with desire simmering ever more deeply between these characters, the story is sure to please." - Rob Preese, BooksForABuck.com “LOVING MERCY is for readers who enjoy a strong heroine and a hero who is man enough to love her.” - Sandra Brill, Romance Reviews Today. “Teresa Bodwell enters the scene with a sassy heroine, one who can easily stand up for herself.  And, to my delight, Mercy is also a sexual woman.” - Tracy Farnsworth, Roundtablereveiws.com return to top