Historical
Romance, 318 pages
Cover art by
Pat Evans
Blurb: Valissa
Prescott’s half-brother has gambled away her Galveston estate, Heartsong and it’s been bought by Nathan Stone
a hardnosed cowboy and businessman who owns several businesses in Galveston. Though she
thinks she has three weeks to vacate the estate, he arrives early to claim his
property. Without money or close relatives, Valissa has no choice but to remain
at the house until she can find somewhere else to go.
When she
realizes she is beginning to fall for this giant of a man who thinks he can
bully everyone into doing his will, she tries everything she can think of to
get away from him. But the one thing she didn’t count on was his smoldering desire
to keep her in his home.
Excerpt: Valissa
Prescott stared at Milton Bower.
What did the solicitor say? She must have heard him wrong. There was no way her
half-brother Kyle could have been so
careless. He couldn’t have gambled away everything they owned, including her
home. He just couldn’t have. Or could he?
Milton said
everything the Prescott
siblings owned was gone. Even the house. The beautiful pink-brick structure in
one of Galveston’s
most desirable neighborhoods. The estate where three generations of Prescotts
had lived. The home her grandfather had built for his wife and named
‘Heartsong’ when the shipping business had become prosperous. The home where
her mother was born, and had been the mistress until she died of a fever when
Valissa was ten years old. The home where her father bled to death from a
bullet wound from an angry rival when Valissa was fourteen. The home her
half-brother was to hold in trust for her until she married or until her
twenty-fifth birthday if she remained single. If she were married between the
ages of nineteen and twenty-five, she and her new husband would get Heartsong
immediately. Valissa would celebrate her nineteenth birthday in November.
According to
her grandfather’s friend and solicitor, the stipulation no longer mattered.
Heartsong didn’t belong to the Prescott family any longer. It was
owned by a stranger. Someone who had no connection with the family at all.
Someone who wouldn’t care about the history of how the beloved mansion had
always sheltered the Prescott
family.
How could Kyle have been so irresponsible? He was twelve years
older than Valissa; therefore their father probably considered him capable and
responsible enough to take care of his younger sister. The will had been
written while Edward
Prescott was dying, so there was
no disputing it. Kyle received the
shipping business, which he promptly sold, and Valissa was to receive the
estate with an allowance her brother was to provide through Milton Bower
as banker and solicitor to keep the place running.
Mr. Bower
insisted that, at the time, no one had known about Kyle’s
gambling and drinking habits. No one had ever guessed that his trips out of
town were spent losing money in gambling houses, bordellos, and saloons.
He informed
her that, when it began to dawn on the bank that Kyle Prescott
had depleted the large account in his name and had begun to dip into Valissa’s
inheritance, they tried to stop him from leaving his little sister in dire
straits. It was no use. They could do nothing. Little by little, Kyle had let all their inheritance slip away. Of
course no one informed Valissa of any of this until this meeting with Milton Bower.
“Why didn’t
someone tell me?” Valissa looked at him with her big aqua-blue eyes that were
misting in spite of her resolve not to cry.
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