FREE Historical Western Romance! The Lawman by @LilyGraison

The Lawman – The Willow Creek Series, Book #1
by Lily Graison

On the run from her ex-lover… 
Jilted by a no-show husband… 
And now mistaken for a whore in the Diamond Back Saloon…

Abigail Thornton doesn’t think things can get any worse. That is until a single slap to a man’s face starts a barroom brawl that lands her in the last place she expected to be.

Town Marshal Morgan Avery wants nothing more than to wash away the trail-dust and sleep for a week, preferably with a soft, willing woman by his side. Instead, he gets Abigail Thornton – all one hundred pounds of her thrust at him seconds before a fist connects with his face. Breaking up the fight takes more effort than he wants to admit and when the last man falls he finds Abigail still standing and not looking the least bit contrite.

Throwing her into the town jail for the night would salve his wounded pride and then he will let her go. Or that was the plan. When morning comes he finds himself oddly reluctant to do so. Miss Thornton is hiding something and he aims to find out what, even if he has to bed her to do so. But will one night in her bed be enough?

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What Reviewers are saying….

“The Lawman was a tortuously seductive story, with the perfect mix of romance, drama and heat.” – Riverina Romantics

“Awesome, amazing, romantic, suspenseful, detailed, all around great book.” – Amazon Reviewer 

“Mesmerizing bought the whole series!” – Amazon Reviewer 

“Hot, Steamy and Romantic…” Sue, Satin’s Bookish Corner 

Read an Excerpt

Abigail was too stunned to do more than hang there, upside down, while the marshal carried her to jail. Jail! He was arresting her for what amounted to nothing more than a misunderstanding but the pig-headed man didn’t want to hear her side of the story. Not that she’d really tried very hard to tell him. Getting away from him seemed like the best course of action back at the saloon. If she’d only walked faster, she may have avoided this entire embarrassment.

Reaching the jail, Abigail lifted her head and noticed a line of people filling the wooden sidewalk, staring at them. She groaned and let her head drop again. The floor of the jail came into view. It was covered in dried mud, much like the marshal’s pants and boots, she noticed, and the stench inside the building took her breath.

The marshal stood her on her feet and she glared at him before looking around her. She was inside what was apparently the jails one and only cell. The barred prison was bare except for a cot that sat under a small, open window. The blanket lying at the foot of the bed was threadbare and filthy. It also contributed greatly to the foul smell in the air. Turning back to face the marshal, Abigail crossed her arms under her breasts. “These accommodations aren’t suitable for a woman. You can’t keep me here.”

He had the gall to laugh at her before walking out of the cell and slamming the door hard enough to make her jump before he locked it behind him. “A jail isn’t a hotel, Miss Thornton. You’ll get used to it.”

She watched him cross the room to a stove in the corner, filling it with wood before starting a fire. He rattled a coffee pot, making as much noise as possible before abandoning the stove and walking to a small desk sitting by the door. He unhooked the gun belt she just now noticed hanging around his hips, hanging it on the back of the chair. His back was to her and even though he was covered from head to toe in dirt, she had to admit he was an impressive sight.

His shoulders were wide; his waist tapered to slim hips and strong, firm looking thighs. His pants fit snug in places she shouldn’t be looking but with a backside like that, it was hard not to stare. Lord knew the men in Atlanta certainly looked nothing like the marshal did. They acted nothing like him either. They had manners. This man did not.

He turned and sat down in the chair, tossed his hat onto the desk and propped his booted feet up on the edge. His hair was dark and in need of barbering. The ends hung nearly to his shoulders. The indentions from his hat caused it to lay slick to his head. For a town marshal, he apparently wasn’t too concerned about his personal grooming. Not that she cared.

When he clasped his hands behind his head and stared at her, Abigail raised an eyebrow at him. His returning smile rankled her nerves. The scraggly beard covering his face didn’t hide the fact he was probably very attractive. From across the room she could see the mischief in his green eyes. Well, the one that wasn’t swollen shut, that is. The purple bruising on his face didn’t conceal the warm hue of his tanned skin and looking at his forearms below the cuffs of his rolled up shirt sleeves let her know he spent more hours outdoors than most.

The fact she found him attractive, as scruffy as he was, galled her. “Are you comfortable now?”

“Absolutely. I can finally put my feet up and I have the best view a man in my position can ask for. A prisoner.”

He was enjoying the fact he locked her up. The pig.

Unwilling to let him see how worried she actually was, she turned her back to him and walked to the cot. The smell was worse close up. She gingerly picked up the offending blanket with two fingers and tossed it to the other side of the cell. The mattress underneath was stained with heaven knows what. She shook her head in disgust. “I’ll need clean linens, marshal. This bed isn’t fit for a dog let alone a human.”

“Never heard any complaints before now. Besides, it’s cleaner than the floor. Let’s not forget this is a jail, Miss Thornton. It isn’t set up for your comfort. You’ll get no special treatment from me just because you’re a—lady.”

The way he said lady caused Abigail’s irritation to grow and she looked over her shoulder at him. He was still smiling. “Am I to assume my meals will consist of water and bread, then?”

“You can assume what you want.”

“Well, in that case,” she said, turning to face him and placing both hands on her hips, “I’ll assume you’re as big an ass as you seem.” His smile faltered and Abigail gave him one in return that made her cheeks ache before she sat down on the edge of the cot. She laid her reticule on her lap and stared back at him, unmoving.

The staring contest may have lasted all night if the door hadn’t opened minutes later. A man who looked very much like the marshal stepped inside and shut the door behind him, his gaze searching and finding her in the cell. He smiled and shook his head. “Vernon told me you locked up a woman but I had to come see for myself.”

“It’s nice to see you too, brother.”

This new man was everything the marshal wasn’t. Clean, freshly barbered and had an easy going smile. Abigail watched him take the vacant seat across from the desk and smiled at him again when he turned to look at her. “You can’t keep her locked up, Morgan,” he said, not taking his gaze from her. “The townsfolk will have a hissy fit.”

“She started a brawl in the saloon, among other things. Once they find out why she’s here, they’ll understand.”

The man snorted a laugh. “I doubt that. I’m sure Edna is on her way over right now to give you a piece of her mind.”

“She’ll do that regardless of who I have locked up in here.” The marshal looked over at her before lowering his feet to the floor and standing. “Come on,” he said, gesturing to the door to the other man. “Take a walk with me. I suddenly have a need for some fresh air. It stinks like a weeks worth of horse shit in here.”

When they started for the door, Abigail rose as well. “Marshal! You can’t leave me in here.”

“Sure I can,” he said, looking over his shoulder at her. “You’re locked up, remember? You’re not going anywhere.” With a parting smile, he left, the door closing behind him.


End of excerpt…

GET YOUR FREE EBOOK:
Amazon.Com US | UK | DE | FR | IT | ES | JP | CA | BR
» Barnes & Noble
» Smashwords
» Buy at Diesel
» Buy at Sony
» Buy at Kobo
Also available in the Apple iBook Store