Friday, August 31, 2012

Author Spotlight ~ Rita Hestand

Angela Cummings has been a widow for over ten long years. She thinks she's found Mr. Right in Greg Thompson, he's smart, handsome, respectable and what more could she ask for? Except maybe...her son to like him.

Then Cooper Johnson rides into town on a broken down Harley looking sexier than a man has a right to. Angela grew up with Coop, he even knew her husband.

Cooper is a searching man, looking for the elusive thing called a home. He's wandered far and wide and wants to settle down, but he doesn't show any outward signs of having much to offer a woman...except his love.

Can Angela go through with her plans with Greg when it's Coop that offers her love instead.

How can she marry one when her heart is with another?

Also available on Amazon HERE


Angela Cummings let out a muffled wail, as John Wayne stood above the rocks watching his mother's funeral in The Sons of Katie Elder, a little old man half turned in his seat to shush her from a couple of aisles down. She didn't know him personally, but she'd seen him in the theatre before.
"Sorry," she muttered, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.
"You always were a sucker for this one, Angel," A deep, husky voice startled and awakened her senses.
Angela whirled about, knocking half her popcorn onto the floor and nearly spilling her soft drink.
"I don't believe it—Cooper Johnson?" she shrieked as several people glanced their way.
"The one and only, but you're obstructing my view with all that hair artillery. I thought curlers went out a long time ago."
Angela's mouth hung a in lowly whispered gasp. She must have looked pretty ridiculous, as Cooper Johnson reached the distance to close it for her. His warm hand sent a shiver of unexpected reactions through her.
"Watch out, Angel, I might think you're glad to see me."
"Just a little surprised," she said trying to find her voice.
He leaned forward again, his warm breath tickling her scalp as he spoke. "Missed me?"
"Not really," she said and turned back around as though dismissing a pestky fly. "What brings you back to town?"
"You, naturally," he said smiling devilishly as she glanced at him over her shoulder.
Without warning, he slid a leg over the seat next to her and joined her. Her heart did a quick flip‑flop when she met him almost eye-to-eye. She had forgotten how lethal he was, and how easily he aroused her senses.
He took her popcorn. "Maybe I better hold this, if we don't want it all over the floor."
He offered her the popcorn, her popcorn.
Exasperation climbed all over her, but she squashed it with a purpose.
"I love this movie." She whispered instead.
His eyes swept over her like a broom leaving wisps in its journey. "Yeah," he said with a husky note, and finally chuckled softly, his long arm stretching behind her. "They don't make them like the Duke anymore, do they?"
Again the little man in front turned around, "Do you mind? I'm trying to watch this movie."
Cooper nodded.
"No, they don't." Angela deliberately ignored the little man. "I love John Wayne, though." She saw the look Cooper Johnson was giving her and rushed to explain. "I mean, oh, not like you're thinking. More like a father. He's an icon, an image of what a real man should be."
"I can relate to that. He's a hard image to live up to, though."
"I seriously doubt anyone could," she quipped.
Suddenly, Cooper Johnson was smiling at her, a devastating smile that curled her toes, and made her heartbeat quicken. "There is, was, and always will be only one John Wayne."
"Darn straight."
Obviously perturbed by their constant talking, the little man got up and moved to the other side of the theatre.
"Oops," Angela chuckled softly.
His hand fell against her shoulder, and she practically jumped out of her seat. Again he chuckled, obviously delighted by her reactions. The devil was in Cooper Johnson's eyes.
"You know," he drawled, his eyes traveling about the theatre with open amusement. "It's hard to believe this place is still open. A lot of the older theaters are closing down these days. Nice to see some things don't change. Gosh, I remember hitching rides with my grandfather just to see the Saturday Matinees. John Wayne was usually a special back then. I'd get up before daylight to get my chores done in time. Most of the kids were here to watch Superman, but not me. No, I loved the shoot‑'em‑ups."
Angela's mind fluttered back in time to her younger years. Cooper had been the big kid on the neighbouring farm. They both walked to school on the same road every day, but never together. Cooper paid little or no attention to a skinny little girl in pig‑tails and braces.
"It was the only place to be on those long, hot Saturdays," she said with a slight curl to her lips. "They tried to tear this place down once. But the townspeople got together and asked the owners if they would leave it open for late night oldies."
"And were you one of those townspeople?"

Other places you can find Rita on the web:

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