This is a hot happily ever after, fictional, historical romantic western. Where a Native American Indian; a man of his age, finds love with an English-speaking rose.
Filled with some very tantalising hot sex and a strong dominant man. It’s a sweeping saga of one woman’s struggle to live and love in the American West of the 1880’s. It holds temptations and passions. Conflicts and torment dealing with the struggles of their time. Often dealing with harsh realities. And through it all, a story of hope in the most desperate of times. Love blossoms, to raise your own passions and bring them alive. If you’re looking for something to tempt your days and nights, you just found it. Enjoy!
Written mainly in British English, with American language and words and slang from both languages.
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The Great Wilderness. A woman lost, a warrior found.
If she could say why things happened as they did, she'd be a wealthy woman.
When she'd started this journey, she'd had such hope. Coming from the potato famine of Ireland and the land clearances and fevers, she'd been lucky to survive that at all. Her parents and brother gone, an unexpected visit by two males she'd never seen before unsettled her, wanting to know about her home and land. Asking if she was alone.
Unsettling her it was enough for her to leave the sale in the hands of the priest telling him she'd be in contact once settled. Working her way across the land to the port, she'd saved enough for boat passage and although only third class she didn't mind one bit.
These were her people. The songs and music a comfort even with the poor weather crossing.
The journey on board horrendous and overly long, she'd arrived in New York not at all well. The smell hit her first. Rotting. Disembarking, people were waiting, pressuring those coming off ships to take accommodations near the port. Not liking the look of those men either or the women with them she made some excuse to get away looking for her 'family'. And quite literally ran into someone at the stagecoach ticket office that offered the new land as her savior.
Her choice of where to go....
Recalling the stories told on board the ship she chose. Paying for her train ticket and stagecoach journey, she secured her wealth and made her way to the train station to wait out its arrival. Two days was nothing compared to the ship.
And getting to her final destination boarding the stagecoach, the last thing she expected was to find the only other passenger had long hair, a leather coat and a deadly sword. He looked kind of Spanish to her having once seen books on history of other countries. But he also looked rather more ….. exotic.
Was he an Indian?
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The woman stepped up into the coach looking exhausted. If he had to call her on it, he'd say she'd not sleep in many a day or hardly slept. She had the scent of the ocean on her clothing and her own feminine scent that drew him. It would draw others too. He waited for her husband to board but the door closed
It was just her.
A woman traveling alone in this place was unwise. Too many bad things happened. Too many trigger-happy white men. And not enough law. Not that the law had helped him much. It hadn't
Born of a Spanish mother and a First Nation male, he wasn't wanted in either colony. His treatment at the hands of others had not been good. He'd no love for either. And looked at the woman he'd be sharing the coach with for the next five days. A pretty thing.
This is a hot happily ever after, fictional, historical romantic western. Where a Native American Indian; a man of his age, finds love with an English-speaking rose.
Filled with some very tantalising hot sex and a strong dominant man. It’s a sweeping saga of one woman’s struggle to live and love in the American West of the 1880’s. It holds temptations and passions. Conflicts and torment dealing with the struggles of their time. Often dealing with harsh realities. And through it all, a story of hope in the most desperate of times. Love blossoms, to raise your own passions and bring them alive. If you’re looking for something to tempt your days and nights, you just found it. Enjoy!
Written mainly in British English, with American language and words and slang from both languages.
****
The Great Wilderness. A woman lost, a warrior found.
If she could say why things happened as they did, she'd be a wealthy woman.
When she'd started this journey, she'd had such hope. Coming from the potato famine of Ireland and the land clearances and fevers, she'd been lucky to survive that at all. Her parents and brother gone, an unexpected visit by two males she'd never seen before unsettled her, wanting to know about her home and land. Asking if she was alone.
Unsettling her it was enough for her to leave the sale in the hands of the priest telling him she'd be in contact once settled. Working her way across the land to the port, she'd saved enough for boat passage and although only third class she didn't mind one bit.
These were her people. The songs and music a comfort even with the poor weather crossing.
The journey on board horrendous and overly long, she'd arrived in New York not at all well. The smell hit her first. Rotting. Disembarking, people were waiting, pressuring those coming off ships to take accommodations near the port. Not liking the look of those men either or the women with them she made some excuse to get away looking for her 'family'. And quite literally ran into someone at the stagecoach ticket office that offered the new land as her savior.
Her choice of where to go....
Recalling the stories told on board the ship she chose. Paying for her train ticket and stagecoach journey, she secured her wealth and made her way to the train station to wait out its arrival. Two days was nothing compared to the ship.
And getting to her final destination boarding the stagecoach, the last thing she expected was to find the only other passenger had long hair, a leather coat and a deadly sword. He looked kind of Spanish to her having once seen books on history of other countries. But he also looked rather more ….. exotic.
Was he an Indian?
****
The woman stepped up into the coach looking exhausted. If he had to call her on it, he'd say she'd not sleep in many a day or hardly slept. She had the scent of the ocean on her clothing and her own feminine scent that drew him. It would draw others too. He waited for her husband to board but the door closed
It was just her.
A woman traveling alone in this place was unwise. Too many bad things happened. Too many trigger-happy white men. And not enough law. Not that the law had helped him much. It hadn't
Born of a Spanish mother and a First Nation male, he wasn't wanted in either colony. His treatment at the hands of others had not been good. He'd no love for either. And looked at the woman he'd be sharing the coach with for the next five days. A pretty thing.