This was the last story I wrote in my Wildings series and one of my favorites in that series. Kyle shows up in many of the stories and, when he does, it's usually to help someone. He is part Lakota on his father's side, and English on his mother's side. I wrote story about Jane and Teekonka's story in A Husband for Christmas.
I still miss the Wildings, but I'm working on a new project that involves some interesting history from my own state of North Carolina with the settlement of Salem.
Today's gray skies have caused me to reminisce about my Wildings.
I Dream
of You
A Wilding Western Romance by Sarah J. McNeal
Fire Star Press/Prairie Rose Publications
A
Dream…A Kiss… And Deadly Secrets
Blurb:
Kyle Red Sky dreamed of the woman
with fire in her hair, but when she comes to town, something dark and dangerous
follows her. He wants to help her, but she is reclusive, avoids men, and the
scarf she always wears around her neck tells him she harbors a dark secret.
Mia Beckett is a survivor. Finally,
she has found sanctuary in a small western town far from danger where no one
knows her or her past and she intends to keep it that way. But she can’t forget
the man she saw once in a dream who told her the paths they walked were
destined to meet. However, when she meets Kyle Red Sky and realizes he is the
man from her dream, she knows, if the dream becomes a reality, he may die.
Excerpt:
Kyle kicked open the door of his
mother’s former dress shop despite the sign that read, No Men Allowed. The raging fire upstairs in the private quarters
made this an emergency, certainly enough to ignore that sign. Smoke began to
fill the shop as he raced up the stairs calling out the name of the new shop
owner. “Miss Beckett! Miss Mia Beckett, where are you?”
As he reached the landing of the
second floor, he heard someone cough nearby. With the wet blanket wrapped
around him he rushed toward the direction of the cough until he found the woman
lying on the floor almost unconscious from smoke inhalation. As soon as he
removed the wet blanket he wore and wrapped her in its protective layer, he
scooped her up in his arms to carry her away from the flames and smoke. The
scarf she wore fell away from her neck and her head lolled back against his
chest to reveal a thin, straight scar that ran all the way across her throat
from her left ear to her right. It wasn’t an old scar, most likely no more than
two or three months in the past. She attempted to raise a hand as if to cover
her throat and replace the silk scarf. He’d always seen her wear a scarf of
some description or another around her neck since her arrival in town. Now he
knew all those scarves were not her unique sense of fashion, but her desire to
hide the scar. She was a woman attempting to keep a secret.
Sarah J. McNeal
