Someone murdered her coworker...Is she the next target?When her assistant's death is ruled a suicide, wildlife biologist Emma Copley knows the authorities got it wrong. The killer is still out there, threatening Emma's work and her life. Launching her own investigation, Emma turns to Beau Kingston, who'll do anything to protect her—even resist their growing attraction. But the handsome rancher has secrets of his own, secrets that could cost them everything...

A disaster drew them close ...and now they're in inescapable danger. Ever since a powerful family destroyed his mother's life, helicopter paramedic Jude Castleman has burned for justice. Only now, working with widowed flight nurse Callie Fielding, does it seem possible. Discovering they are both linked to the same fatal chopper crash, the grief-stricken pair embark on a high-risk plan of revenge and closure...as they try to resist their even riskier attraction. From Harlequin Romantic Suspense: Danger. Passion. Drama.

Her business is finding criminals...But can she risk falling for a fugitive?Capturing Ace Colton is the solution to bounty hunter Sierra Madden's troubles. The bounty will pay off the vicious loan shark whose goons are after her. Too cynical to buy Ace's protestations of innocence, Sierra tamps down her growing attraction. But when she's the ultimate target, she might be forced to rely on the absolute last person she should trust.

EDITORIAL REVIEW: ***Deep beneath the desert lies a woman's body, mummified by salt, abandoned by those who ought to seek her. With her rests a secret that someone will kill to keep buried.*** **Devil's Claw** It's a barren wasteland, the dead center of nowhere, and the last place Dana Vanover wants to be. But it's also the last known address of her missing sister. Determined to locate Angie, Dana won't be deterred by suspicious rednecks, snakebite, or even the grim prognosis of Sheriff Jay Eversole: no woman could survive more than a week alone in the burning heat of Rimrock County . But the endless sands aren't the only thing hotter than the chili served up in the Broken Spur café. Despite small-town dirty politics, a deadly car chase and a dangerous paternity search, Dana and Jay can't keep their hands off each other. In the least populated area of the country they've managed to find love. Now all they have to do is stay alive long enough to uncover...***The Salt Maiden***

A soldier's memories are more dangerous than anything he's encountered in the line of duty "Killed in action" a year ago, US Army captain Ian Rayford shocks everyone when he stumbles half-dead onto his family's Texas ranch. Suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, Ian can barely remember his relatives. His former fiancée, a psychologist specializing in PTSD, arrives to help Ian recover. But not everyone wants her to unearth the dangerous secrets he's carrying. Now engaged to another man, Dr. Andrea Warrington fights her feelings for Ian even as she helps him remember how much they once loved each other. Yet the closer Ian gets to his past, the more someone else has to ensure the treacherous truth stays buried.

Terror rises at Dead River Ranch in this intriguing Coltons of Wyoming romance Wrangler Dylan Frick thought he knew his past—until a suspicion surfaces that he's the secret Colton heir who vanished from Dead River Ranch as a baby. Now his identity's in question, and his mother's murder is still unsolved. And he's thrown off course by the ranch's mysterious new maid, Hope Woods. The gun-wielding knockout has fear in her eyes and seems desperate to escape her own private danger. Defending Hope—and keeping her deadly secret—leaves them both open to unexpected passion. But will protecting her mean walking out of her life for good? About the AuthorColleen Thompson began writing the contemporary romantic suspense novels she loves in 2004. Since then, her work has been honored with the Texas Gold Award and nominations for the RITA, Daphne du Maurier, and multiple reviewers'choice honors, along with starred reviews from Romantic Times and Publisher's Weekly. A former teacher living with her family in the Houston area, Colleen can be found on the web at www.colleen-thompson.com. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.On the day her second life went up in flames, a female shopper stared out as the rain came sideways, driven by the high winds of a sudden squall. Just inside the automatic glass doors, she hesitated, watching another woman stagger beneath her umbrella before a gust blew it inside out.With a murmur of sympathy for the drenched customer scurrying to her car, the shopper in the doorway wondered whether her frozen dinners would survive if she waited out the downpour. Or whether she would have at least thought of an umbrella if she hadn't been too miserable, too anxious, to check the weather forecast—or even look up at the sky.A baby-faced manager trotted up to her, the loose knot of his necktie peeping out from beneath his plastic poncho. "If you'll point out your car," he offered, his Adam's apple bobbing, "I'll pull it right up to the front here by the overhang."Her knee-jerk response was to clutch her keys even tighter, to trust no one, as she'd been warned. But the young manager looked so newly minted and so earnest, and she'd almost forgotten what it was to be offered such an uncomplicated kindness. Besides, this was small-town Iowa, a world away from everything she feared."Thank you," she told him before pointing out a small sedan so nondescript it might as well be invisible. Which was exactly why she drove it, rather than the sleek, eyecatching Jaguar she'd been given for her thirtieth birthday, a replacement for the Mercedes from the year before. "You're so sweet to do that for me."Nodding, he turned quickly—though not fast enough to hide his blush—and dashed off into the rain.Seconds later, she flinched as a boom shook the air, the lot, the entire building and a gout of flame erupted, so blinding that her first stunned thought was that the poor manager had been struck by lightning.Behind her, screams competed with the sirens of a half-dozen car alarms, and several employees pushed past her to see what had happened. But she stood frozen, mute with terror, her panicked pulse pounding in her ears. With an almost-audible click, her shocked brain put together what she'd really witnessed. Not an act of nature, not a lightning bolt at all.The flames pouring from her car's shattered windows and whipping in the wild wind had nothing to do with this storm. And everything to do with Renzo's favorite means of disposing of "loose ends."Where would she go now, now that he'd found her a thousand miles and a new identity away?Where could she hide this time—and who could be trusted with her life?Two weeks later…Huge, black and in a world of hurt, the bull was in no mood to be messed with. Inside the corral, nearly a ton of raw beef and attitude paced restlessly and snorted, his breath steaming in the freezing morning air."Easy, Nitro. Steady, boy," said Dylan Frick, noting the torn and bloody shoulder that Dead River Ranch veterinarian Amanda Colton needed to stitch up. Whether the massive creature had gotten caught on some barbed wire or fought with another animal, Dylan couldn't say. All that mattered was keeping ranch owner Jethro Colton's prized new Angus-Brahman cross strong enough to re-invigorate the herd.Dying or not, the billionaire was still counting on Dylan, the head wrangler and renowned large-animal whisperer, to calm the massive beast enough so he could be treated. But as he told Bingo and Betsy, the ranch's two English shepherds, "Stay," and stepped inside the pen, he automatically shifted focus, slowing his movements and syncing both his brain and body with the huge animal's instincts.Big universities had experts giving clinics in stock handling all over Wyoming and beyond, but Dylan had never needed any training to get started. He'd known what to do ever since the day he'd first toddled outdoors and slipped into the stall of a stallion so dangerously unstable that Jethro had given orders for the horse to be put down.Dylan still remembered his mother's terrified cry, her ashen face as she'd rushed toward him. In crystalline detail, the memory unfolded, and he watched her fear give way, first to astonishment, then joy and wonder, when the "vicious" stallion lowered its head and nickered for him to scratch its silky neck, the first step in the valuable stud's rehabilitation.But Dylan's thoughts zoomed in on the freeze-frame image of his mother, the mother who had held him, raised him, loved him….Who'd been murdered on this very ranch just four months ago, shot down by a kidnapper bent on taking Jethro's only grandchild. Racked with guilt that he had even considered for a moment the possibility that she was not his biological mother, Dylan soon found himself drifting, plucking at the edges of a life that threatened to unravel.Nitro turned toward him and pawed the ground, still muddy with the remnants of an earlier November snowfall. Dylan looked away with feigned indifference, tracking a red-tailed hawk that flew out of the woods behind the stable. Then he strolled across the corral, his long-limbed body as loose and unhurried as his mind was troubled.From the corner of his eye, he saw the bull instinctively veer away, trotting in the direction of the open chute door. Trusting that the huge animal would stay put once he found the hay, sweet feed and water Dylan had placed there, he wondered again why he had allowed himself to be talked into taking the damned DNA test in the first place. Though he had bigger goals, he'd been happy in the work that he'd felt born to do, content living in his Spartan room in the employee wing of Dead River Ranch's grand mansion. And he was proud, damned proud, to be the only child of widowed ranch governess Faye Frick, who had served as a loving mother figure for so many others. He didn't need cushier surroundings, and he damned well didn't want to find out he was actually Cole Colton, Jethro's only son, who'd been taken thirty years before and never seen or heard of again.Worse yet, he didn't want to deal with the suspicion that the woman, whose absence was still a raw wound, might have killed to claim him.Outside the corral, Betsy and Bingo leaped to their feet barking and raced toward him. It was the only warning Dylan had about the high price of his distraction, his only chance to avoid the black blur hurtling toward him—and a pair of wicked horns. He leaped sideways, dodging death, but not even that instinctive action saved him from a glancing blow off his right shoulder.The impact spun him, slamming him into the fence rails with force enough to rattle his back fillings. At his side in a split second, the shepherds leaped and barked, distracting the bull as he charged after first one, then the other, giving Dylan the moment he needed to roll beneath the bottom rail to safety.Still on the muddy ground, he caught his breath and whistled for the shepherds. The brown-and-white female heeded instantly, with black-and-white Bingo giving the bull one last, defiant bark and following a moment later. Both dogs rushed to fill his arms, their frantic licks and wagging tails encouraging him to get to his feet."All right, you two. All right. Good dogs, very good dogs." Dylan stroked the silky heads and rose with a grunt, aching everywhere. Looking around to see if all the noise had brought anybody running, he sighed and told the pair, "There's an extra biscuit in it for you if you don't let this get around. Maybe steak, if I can sneak one from the kitchen."As he headed for the stable to wash up, he clenched his jaw, scarcely believing he'd made such a rookie mistake as assuming that an already-agitated bull would rather munch some sweet feed than take out his aggression on the nearest target. If he kept it up, Dylan knew, his worries over this damned DNA test and all the recent criminal activity would be the death of him.Leaving the dogs outside, he closed the stable door just behind him, then went to the big sink. Stripping to the waist, he washed off the ground-in mud and beading blood from the scraped skin of his lower left arm.He didn't get much further when he froze, abruptly aware of the shuffling of hooves and a horse's nervous nicker. Turning off the water, he heard a thump against another stall, followed by the low rumble of another horse. An uneasy rumble, as if there were something—or someone—in this stable that did not belong.He pulled on his shirt, his thoughts returning to his mother's murder. Though a young hand named Duke Johnson had confessed to the crime, no one yet knew who had put him up to it—or later murdered two other household employees. Except that, somehow, there was a woman involved, a woman who might very well be the mastermind behind it all.Was someone skulking around now, maybe even doing something to the horses that Dylan spent so much time with that they felt like personal friends?Too angry to take the time to grab his jacket, Dylan crept toward the row of stalls, his shirt still unbuttoned. Looking into the first doorway, he saw Gabby Colton's sweet old sorrel, his ears flattened and the rims around his brown eyes white."Shh," Dylan whispered, and almost instantly, the gelding quieted.In the next stall, his own horse, a stocky buckskin he called Bushwhack, stuck his head out to give him a friendly nudge. Though the quarter horse was one of the most laid-back animals Dylan had ever worked with, he wondered, was he so distracted by recent events—or rattled by his run-in with Nitro—that he'd imagined an intruder?He continued walking along the line of stalls, goose-flesh breaking out along his arms and shoulders. But it wasn't from the cold alone, for ahead, he heard more agitated stamping—and was th...

Former army ranger Cole Sawyer reacts on instinct when he sees beautiful young widow Lisa Meador pull a gun at the bank. He foils the robbery, but when Lisa screams as the real robbers take off with her son, he realizes that things aren't what they seem. Driven by a painful secret, Cole makes the split-second decision to join forces with Lisa and trail the criminals across Texas. Haunted by his failure to save Lisa's husband in Afghanistan, Cole is determined to help her rescue her son. But he's even more determined not to give in to his growing attraction to her. As they untangle clues and face the potentially devastating loss of their quarry, they soon realize that the kidnappers' motives run deeper -- and darker -- than they ever expected....

Rusted Spur, Texas, is full of secrets...until now

Hotshot wilderness firefighter Jake Whitaker had been lucky to escape a massive blaze with his life. Now, with a body as scarred as his heart, the last thing he needs—much less wants—is to see his first love walk back into his life.With her abusive marriage behind her, Liane Mason brought her children home to Wolf River Lodge in a search for peace…a peace she can maintain only by keeping a cool distance from Jake. But when her children become hostages in a murderous plan, Jake is the only one she can turn to. And while love may never die, a passionate hatred can kill. In a battle of love versus vengeance, which side will win?About the AuthorColleen Thompson began writing the contemporary romantic suspense novels she loves in 2004. Since then, her work has been honored with the Texas Gold Award and nominations for the RITA, Daphne du Maurier, and multiple reviewers'choice honors, along with starred reviews from Romantic Times and Publisher's Weekly. A former teacher living with her family in the Houston area, Colleen can be found on the web at www.colleen-thompson.com. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.The dark silhouettes of pine trees swirled around Liane Mason, the evening sky behind them as red as fresh-spilled blood. Behind the wheel of her parked Jeep, she was shaking so hard she barely managed to slip her phone back inside her purse.Closing her eyes, she gulped down several deep breaths, allowing the crisp mountain air to remind her that there were a hundred different reasons, benign reasons, why her father might not be answering either his cell phone or the radio, and just as many why the kids weren't, either.More than likely eight-year-old Cody and his six-year-old sister Kenzie were outside, helping their grandfather put away the tack and camping supplies they had taken on their first overnight horseback excursion. His business might be a far cry from the carefully manicured and wildly successful Wolf River Lodge and Spa, where she spent her days managing the needs of wealthy and sometimesfamous clients, but Deke Mason had been known for decades for the personalized guided trail rides he'd offered generations of tourists of all stripes. Though his business had fallen off in recent years, he had safely and successfully taken thousands in and out of Elk Creek Canyon. Well trained in first aid, he was carrying the kit that contained Kenzie's medication—and Liane trusted him to deal with anything that came up.So there was absolutely no reason to believe that he'd had any trouble this time. No logical reason to allow her smoldering panic to ignite. But that line of thought didn't ease her worry for a moment, regardless of anything her post-traumatic-stress counselor had told her.You could always call Jake Whittaker, have him go outside and check. But the thought of asking a favor of her dad's new tenant, who had taken up residence in the rebuilt bunkhouse about six months before his accident last summer, stopped her. Though she knew Jake would insist on going out to check, she hated to think of him walking the uneven ground, maybe missing his footing in the deep drifts of rust-colored pine needles, thicker than ever thanks to what had been the driest summer in a decade.She shook her head, realizing she was lying to herself. Prosthetic leg or not, Jake was getting around fine these days, just over a year after the accident and amputation. More than fine, considering the glimpses she'd caught of him toweling sweat from his body after a run—a body even more buff and masculine than when the two of them had dated back in high school.Awkward as it had been facing the boy she'd left behind—facing the whole town of Mill Falls—since her return last fall, the truth was that she had no intention of admitting exactly how close to melting down she was right now. Now that she'd finished her busy shift, she could be home in twenty minutes, anyway.She visualized herself arriving at the big, comfortable log homestead and hugging her kids close. As they excitedly chattered about the trip they had been begging her to let them take all summer, her dad would grin and tell her how proud his family made him. And his eyes would meet hers in silent acknowledgment that he was proudest of all that she had made it through the night alone….Or as alone as a woman could be, with her father's seventy-pound shepherd mix hogging most of the bed. But since Misty could be trusted to keep a secret, Liane wouldn't mention the sleepless hours she'd spent stroking the shaggy, blue-gray head and praying for the night to pass more quickly.As she drove along the tree-lined highway that skirted Bear Mountain, she told herself she would catch up on her sleep tonight. Safe at home, they all would, nestled in their beds.Focusing on that image, she relaxed her death grip on the wheel and consciously deepened her breathing. It was enough to get her through the drive home.And enough to distract her from the teasing flicker of the gathering darkness illuminated by summer lightning in her rearview.The night cried out for flame. As Jake Whittaker stood on the porch of his mountain valley cabin, he heard it in the hiss of hot wind through the drought-scorched tree-tops, the creak of trunks so parched and resinous that the slightest spark would send them up, and the restless nickers of the horses that milled about his friend and landlord Deke's corral a short distance downhill.But most of all he felt it in the phantom ache in the lower left leg he'd lost: the warning that a storm was brewing. A dry electrical storm that would light up the backcountry near Yosemite in time to choke the dawn with thick smoke.Last year's accident, the result of a tree whose fall had knocked Jake out of his fire boots as he'd been racing to the aid of his trapped men, had nearly killed him, but there was nothing wrong with his instincts, which had his blood quickening and his pulse thrumming with the first flicker of heat lightning along the ridge to the west. Though he now spent the better part of most of his days at a computer translating scientific articles and tech support documents into the Russian he'd learned at his grandmother's knee, it was still everything he could do not to jump into his truck and join the crew of hotshot firefighters he had once led—firefighters, he reluctantly admitted, whose effectiveness and safety would be jeopardized if he were selfish and foolhardy enough to try.For now, at least, he told himself. But maybe by next summer's fire season, if he worked hard enough to convince the district supervisors.Another flicker pulsed behind Bear Mountain, and thunder rumbled a dark warning. From the corral, he heard a terrified equine squeal, followed by deep barking and a frantic female cry."Copper, stand still! Please!"Jake reached inside the front door for a flashlight and was on the move an instant later, driven by the desperation in Liane Mason's voice. Something had to be wrong for the woman he'd once known so well to be out messing with the horses after dark. He hadn't been raised around the animals as Liane had, but even he knew that both the weather and the panic in her voice would do nothing but upset them. What could have happened to make the Ice Princess forget that?As he threaded his way through the trees, Jake's prosthesis caught a branch buried in leaf litter. Cursing the hurry that had made him lose his focus on his footing, he recovered from his stumble, then gritted his teeth and hurried toward the security light just outside the stable.Beneath it, he spotted the woman it still hurt to look at, even a dozen years after she had dashed his naive schoolboy fantasies and kicked him to the curb. As slender and agile as she'd been at eighteen, she was struggling to saddle a horse, her long brown braid whipping along the back of the chambray shirt she wore hanging over her jeans. As the dog paced nervously, the muscular bay danced sideways, tossing his head to throw his weight against the lead rope that bound him to the hitching post. Even from this distance, Jake could make out the whites of the horse's rolling eyes."Put that saddle down and back off." Though it wasn't his place, he made it an order, too concerned for her safety to do any less. "He's about to break loose, and you're going to end up hurt."Liane whirled toward him, her face milk-pale and her beautiful blue eyes huge with terror. "I have to," she said, all traces of her usual coolness toward him absent. "I have to go and find them.""Find who, Liane?" he asked, but already he was putting the pieces together. How Cody, the outgoing and talkative second grader, had been jabbering nonstop for the past week about the planned adventure to anyone who would listen, including the tenant his mother so consistently avoided. How her father had taken her kids out on two of the gentler horses for a camping trip yesterday. How Deke's favorite mount, a huge black mule named Waco, remained as absent from the corral as the children's horses."Did your dad radio you?" Jake asked, knowing that cell phone coverage didn't extend into Elk Creek Canyon. "Has there been an accident?"Liane shook her head. "I haven't been able to raise him since this morning. He did have some issues with his satellite radio a few weeks back, but something has to be wrong. He knew how nervous I was about this trip, how I wasn't sure the kids were ready for—" A shaft of lightning interrupted, stabbing the darkness behind the mountain's granite dome. Moments later thunder reverberated through the valley, more ominous than ever.The noise was the last straw for the bay, who squealed and launched himself backward, snapping not the lead rope but one of the bands of his own halter. As the horse wheeled around to join the herd in the corral, Liane leaped backward, holding the saddle before her like a shield."Help me catch another one," she demanded. "I have to find my family. Dry as it's been, there'll be fires, maybe even worse than last year's."He nodded grimly, trying not to remember the blaze whose uncharacteristic behavior had engulfed thousands of acres, fifteen homes and the lives of three Wolf River Hotshots—three good men, family men—he'd ordered into what should have been a safe location. They were gone, but the flashbacks were always waiting, resurfacing to accuse him every time he closed his eyes."Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Have you called the sheriff's office yet? Or how 'bout search and rescue?" he asked.But he was talking to her back, because she had already turned to grab a rope and a bucket of oats to sweeten the deal."I just got off the phone with them." With Misty sticking close by her side, Liane jogged toward the dozen or so horses trotting a nervous circle around the corral's outer edge. Their varied hides, brown and black and white and golden, streamed past the security light in a dust-choked, multicolored river. "They&...

Shannon Brandt's mission had failed -- spectacularly. Instead of arresting AWOL Ranger Rafe Lyons, the merciless commando had kidnapped her -- a tough, experienced FBI agent. Worse, she'd agreed to a deal with the devil and promised to help Rafe recover his abducted niece. Before long, her promise becomes a wrenching ethical dilemma. If she breaks the law to reunite a family, she'll ruin her career and dishonor her family. But if she plays it by the book, an innocent life may be lost. To further complicate her decision, Shannon finds herself falling for the arrogant, abrasive -- but undeniably attractive -- commando...even though this dangerous mission might lead to both their deaths.