The Daddy Candidate/MacLeans on Sale

The Daddy Candidate is now on sale, with an updated cover.

The Daddy Candidate is the last of the MacLean trilogy.

Here's his blurb:
Published 1991 by Silhouette Desire; MacLean Trilogy: When cold, hard systems-warrior Maxwell Van Damme does a reorganize-systemize favor for J.D. MacLean (Angel vs. MacLean), he isn't expecting J.D.'s sister-in-law, Irish Dalton.
Freestyle, nurturer Irish owns Abagail's House, a Colorado B&B. Her business system (1 apple-shaped cookie jar and 1 shoebox) and free passes to those in financial distress unnerves Max. She isn't happy about Max set to re-do her caring kingdom...
But it only takes one kiss... Then Max beats first-night baby-odds and he's set for a take-over...
(Teaser at the Read More Click)

The Loving Season is first and is now .99. Read about how Mac makes chili and captures Diana.
Blurb:
Author Rating--Sweet/Sensual. First of MacLean series, published as Desire, 1989. The Wyoming B&B is filled and on a voyage of self-discovery after a bad marriage, Diana is re-routed to a ranch home. She's not expecting a bagpipe-paying grumpy rancher. But she looks like a stray and Mac is keeping her. He's determined not to love again, and with 2 grown sons, Diana isn't planning romance, or physical attraction. And then, guess what happens?

I loved this book. Got to research dog sledding, too!




Angel vs. MacLean is second. J.D. MacLean wants revenge on the irritating woman he can't forget.
Blurb:
Contemporary Category, Published 1991.
Two fighters, each with revenge on their minds, step into the arena of primitive attraction...
Denver's leading attorney, Katherine Kelly, didn't want trucking czar J.D. MacLean back in her life. But J.D. wants revenge; he's, furious that after one night in his bed years ago, a teenage "Kat" married an older rich man--while J.D. was struggling to raise a baby and build his business. Now, years later, he holds Katherine's baby sister in his financial fist, and he doesn't intend to play fair.
Their flashfire sensuality ignites as J.D. wants more than payback from Katherine; he wants everything...

Reminder: Click the Read More for The Daddy Candidate's Teaser?

HE'D COME TO SYSTEMIZE HER BELOVED B&B...

MAX'S FIRST TAKE:
She looked very hot and very passionate.
The thought startled Max, tightening his taut stomach. These days, wrapped in the comfort of his experience and age, he rarely thought of women as hot and passionate, nor soft and sweet. She reminded him of Tchaikovsky's passionate strains, rather than Bach's smoothly integrated chords. Max stirred against the leather seat restlessly, uncomfortable with his comparison of Irish to his favorite composers...
Her pert nose suited her freckles, and a soft vulnerable mouth caused Max to think of California strawberries—not the large, too-sweet variety, but the medium size with the interesting tart flavor...
Distracted momentarily, Max thought they were nice breasts. Not too full, nor too slight.
His hands tightened on the steering wheel. In his palms, they would feel exactly right. About the size of succulent Valencia oranges, though the tips probably would have the slight nuance and mellow bite of a fine French wine.

IRISH'S FIRST TAKE:
She gripped the mud ball in her hand more tightly. Van Damme's purpose was to mess with her land, and she intended to give him the feel of it immediately.
He looked exactly like what he was—a businessman, cutting the warmth and affection from his life by hurrying through all the whimsies that make life enjoyable and make people lovable, Irish thought sadly. She noted the hard clean-shaven face, the slashing dark brown eyes that appraised and dissected everything in their sweep. His skin lacked laughter lines, and a taut muscle moved in his jaw as though he couldn't wait to accomplish his mission and soar out of the wilderness in his shiny car.
Irish glanced at his car. He probably loved it as much as she loved her inn. After all, hit men/systems warriors deserved their special loves, too.
She sensed that Maxwell Van Damme had never known real love.
She doubted that his auburn hair had ever been mussed by the wind, that its tendency to curl had ever been freed; she doubted he laughed easily or exclaimed with delight.
She wondered who and what would make him smile, lighting his cold dark eyes with warmth.
"Hello, Max," she said quietly, returning his stony unreadable gaze evenly. "Are you hungry?"
He flicked a wary look down his nose at her, as though she were a wrinkle that needed ironing. Though Max probably never experienced a wrinkle or a gravy stain in his life, he needed attention, just like a little lost boy, she thought whimsically. She allowed her lips to curve with the thought...
***