{"author":"Debra Holland","author_id":"Debra+Holland","total_quotes":15,"quotes":[{"text":"Howie rose and smiled down at her. “I just eat what’s put before me without being picky. I know everything you make will make my tastebuds bless the day you set foot in Morgan’s Crossing” he drawled, waiting to see the adorable look of confusion that crossed her face when he flirted.Bertha lowered her gaze and looked up at him through her eyelashes.“Only your tastebuds?","author":"Debra Holland","tags":["clean-romance","historical-romance","mail-order-brides","sweet-romance","western-romance"],"id":1945,"author_id":"Debra+Holland"},{"text":"Even through her coat, he could feel the curve of her arm, making him aware of their differences. Man and woman. Hard and soft.","author":"Debra Holland","tags":["clean-romance","historical-romance","mail-order-brides","sweet-romance","western-romance"],"id":114203,"author_id":"Debra+Holland"},{"text":"I've been thanking God for you being there. For you risking your life for Dove. I'll never forget it, Tyler. I'll never forget you....'\t'Truth is, Lily, I'll never forget you either.","author":"Debra Holland","tags":["artist","cowboy","historical-romance","montana-romance","rancher","western-romance"],"id":130310,"author_id":"Debra+Holland"},{"text":"I think Livingston was going to steal a kiss in the moonlight.'\tLily wrinkled her nose. 'Well, I certainly wouldn't have given him one. He made me too uncomfortable, and I just met him!'\tTyler cupped her face with his hands, leaning closer. 'What about me?' he said, his voice low. 'Will you give one to me?'\t'I shouldn't.' The lonely years stretched ahead of her. Her earlier vow to make memories rose and suddenly she was desperate for some kisses of Tyler's to remember. In answer to his question, she tilted her mouth to his.","author":"Debra Holland","tags":["artist","cowboy","dog","montana-romance","rancher","western-romance"],"id":159333,"author_id":"Debra+Holland"},{"text":"Antonia Valleau cast the first shovelful of dirt onto her husband’s fur-shrouded body, lying in the grave she’d dug in their garden plot, the only place where the soil wasn’t still rock hard. I won’t be breakin’ down. For the sake of my children, I must be strong. Pain squeezed her chest like a steel trap. She had to force herself to take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of loam and pine. I must be doing this.She drove the shovel into the soil heaped next to the grave, hefted the laden blade, and dumped the earth over Jean-Claude, trying to block out the thumping sound the soil made as it covered him. Even as Antonia scooped and tossed, her muscles aching from the effort, her heart stayed numb, and her mind kept playing out the last sight of her husband. The memory haunting her, she paused to catch her breath and wipe the sweat off her brow, her face hot from exertion in spite of the cool spring air.Antonia touched the tips of her dirty fingers to her lips. She could still feel the pressure of Jean-Claude’s mouth on hers as he’d kissed her before striding out the door for a day of hunting. She’d held up baby Jacques, and Jean-Claude had tapped his son’s nose. Jacques had let out a belly laugh that made his father respond in kind. Her heart had filled with so much love and pride in her family that she’d chuckled, too. Stepping outside, she’d watched Jean-Claude ruffle the dark hair of their six-year-old, Henri. Then he strode off, whistling, with his rifle carried over his shoulder. She’d thought it would be a good day—a normal day. She assumed her husband would return to their mountain home in the afternoon before dusk as he always did, unless he had a longer hunt planned.As Antonia filled the grave, she denied she was burying her husband. Jean-Claude be gone a checkin’ the trap line, she told herself, flipping the dirt onto his shroud.She moved through the nightmare with leaden limbs, a knotted stomach, burning dry eyes, and a throat that felt as though a log had lodged there. While Antonia shoveled, she kept glancing at her little house, where, inside, Henri watched over the sleeping baby. From the garden, she couldn’t see the doorway.She worried about her son—what the glimpse of his father’s bloody body had done to the boy. Mon Dieu, she couldn’t stop to comfort him. Not yet. Henri had promised to stay inside with the baby, but she didn’t know how long she had before Jacques woke up. Once she finished burying Jean-Claude, Antonia would have to put her sons on a mule and trek to where she’d found her husband’s body clutched in the great arms of the dead grizzly. She wasn’t about to let his last kill lie there for the animals and the elements to claim. Her family needed that meat and the fur. She heard a sleepy wail that meant Jacques had awakened. Just a few more shovelfuls. Antonia forced herself to hurry, despite how her arms, shoulders, and back screamed in pain.When she finished the last shovelful of earth, exhausted, Antonia sank to her knees, facing the cabin, her back to the grave, placing herself between her sons and where their father lay. She should go to them, but she was too depleted to move.","author":"Debra Holland","tags":["historical-romance","western-romance"],"id":162183,"author_id":"Debra+Holland"},{"text":"Howie brought her hand to his lips. “You stepped in front of me,” he said in wonder. “I didn’t need you to. I can handle Prudence Morgan.” “But you didn’t.” She tapped his chest. “You stayed quiet for the longest time before responding.” “Quiet is how I handle difficult people….” “You don’t handle me that way.” Her voice came out sounding breathless. Howie slipped his arms around her. “If it were up to me, this is how I’d handle you.” Butterflies danced in her stomach. Not a fearful battering of wings, but a sparkling mating flight, making her heart soar into her throat. “Why isn’t it up to you?","author":"Debra Holland","tags":["clean-romance","historical-romance","mail-order-brides","sweet-romance","western-romance"],"id":215050,"author_id":"Debra+Holland"},{"text":"A job isn’t ‘till death do us part….","author":"Debra Holland","tags":["clean-romance","historical-romance","mail-order-brides","sweet-romance","western-romance"],"id":218418,"author_id":"Debra+Holland"},{"text":"With the way Bertha can cook and her good-natured personality, she’ll be married in no time. We’ll see to it!” She cast a speculative glance around. “Why I see ten available men within a hundred feet of us. ... Bertha will manage just fine…“ I hope.","author":"Debra Holland","tags":["clean-romance","historical-romance","mail-order-bride","sweet-romance","western-romance"],"id":262893,"author_id":"Debra+Holland"},{"text":"She sighed. “What I wouldn’t give for a civilized bathroom.” Howie remained silent out of habit and also because he didn’t know what a civilized bathroom was.","author":"Debra Holland","tags":["clean-romance","historical-romance","mail-order-bride","sweet-romance","western-romance"],"id":267522,"author_id":"Debra+Holland"},{"text":"Pepe absently thought, happy beyond words that he was actually holding hands with Lucia.\tPassing a stall with a particularly pungent odor of manure made Pepe falter, realizing a barn wasn't the most romantic place to propose. Then he remembered the Savior born on this very night so long ago, and he figured if God could choose a stable for such an important miracle, he could too.","author":"Debra Holland","tags":["christmas","collection-of-short-stories","historical-western-romance","holiday-novellas"],"id":367461,"author_id":"Debra+Holland"}],"pagination":{"page":1,"page_size":10,"total":15,"pages":2,"next":"?page=2\u0026page_size=10"}}