Secretly, however, if Jilly ever allowed herself to be completely honest about it (which she tried to avoid), there was one other man in Mourning Dove who always crossed her mind when the subject of the handsomest man in town arose. Yet there was no lingering on thinking of that man - no sirree! Not for a moment! And so Jilly just kept telling Jack that he was the handsomest man in Mourning Dove Creek. Besides, it was almost true - being that the other man lived outside of town and not right in town the way Jack did.

Maria Castillo Holt was the only daughter of a valiant lord and his Spanish beauty. Following the tragic deaths of her parents, Maria found herself spirited away by conniving relatives to endure neglect and misery. However, rescued at the age of 13 by Brockton Thorton, the son of her father's devoted friend Lord Richard Thorton, Maria would at last find blessed reprieve. Further, Brockton Thorton became, from that day forth, ever the absolute center of Maria's very existence. Yet a fiendish plotting intruded....

Rivers Brighton was a wanderer - having nothing and belonging to no one. Still, by chance, Rivers found herself harboring for a time beneath the roof of the kind-hearted Jolee Gray and her remarkably attractive, yet ever grumbling brother, Paxton. Jolee had taken Rivers in, and Rivers had stayed. Helplessly drawn to Paxton's alluring presence and unable to escape his astonishing hold over her, Rivers knew she was in danger of enduring great heartbreak and pain.

Mistreated, disheartened, and trapped, Fallon Ashby unexpectedly found the chance of swift deliverance at the hand of a wealthy landowner. The mysterious deliverer offered Fallon escape from unendurable circumstances. Thus, Fallon chose to marry Trader Donavon, a man who concealed his face within the dark shadows of an ominous black hood - a man who unknowingly held her heart captive.

I’ve had a crush on my brother’s best friend my entire life. Once, in high school, I even got a taste of what it would be like to be with him thanks to some well-placed mistletoe: incredible and humiliating. We always spend Christmas with Max’s family at our cabin, and every year I have to suffer through a blissful week with him in a completely platonic way. His steady stream of girlfriends have made him off limits . . . until now. It’s Christmas. We’re at the cabin together. And Max Dawson is single.