Isaac: Letters of Fate by Paty Jager

Have you ever received a letter that changed your life?

That’s the premise of my historical western romance series, Letters of Fate. I started out with the idea of writing a Mail Order Groom series. As I pondered the idea, I decided rather than an agency or newspaper announcement bringing a woman and a man together, I’d have men receive a letter that changes their life and brings them to the woman they can’t live without. This element also makes the books stand alone. One book doesn’t have to be read before the other as they are only connected by the hero receiving a letter.

This idea allowed for more external conflicts as I tend to like to have a bit of suspense in the stories. Giving either the hero or heroine an interesting background before they meet adds more to the conflict and brings in elements that up the tension and makes the reader have more to think about than just the romance.

But the romance is the main element of the stories and while I tend to like my historical westerns to have fun fist and gun fights, I also like them to have steamy romance with sexual tension.

There is an excerpt from Isaac: Letters of Fate:

“Then let’s go to bed.” He grabbed the lantern, put it at the usual nighttime spot and placed his hat and holster at the head of his bedroll.

Allie sat on her bed and pulled her boots off.

“No wonder you were having trouble getting your boots on, you didn’t put stockings on.” He grasped her foot, gliding a finger over the red spots made by her boots. “Always wear stockings with boots. Especially, when you are hiking on a mountain.”

He heard her breath exhale. He peered into her face. Her gaze watched his fingers moving across her long thin foot. She licked her lips and it was his undoing.

Isaac leaned forward, cupping the back of her head in one hand, and drew her face close to his. His body had yearned for this moment ever since he’d suggested they bathe together in the hot spring. Touching his lips to hers, a spark snapped between them. He pulled back and saw wonder in her eyes. This time he brushed his lips back and forth softly, before seating their lips and kissing her with the desire surging through his body.

Using the foot he still held, Isaac pulled her up into his lap, keeping their lips melded together. She squirmed, fitting her body tighter to his. The sensation quivering up his body and snapping his need to attention, shook him of all common sense. His hands moved over her body, feeling the slight curve at her hip, and moving up to cup her small breast through the shirt and undergarments. He wanted to touch her skin. Needed to touch her skin.

Using one hand, he turned the lantern down and started unbuttoning her shirt.


Isaac 5x8Isaac: Letters of Fate

 Historical western filled with steamy romance and the rawness of a growing country.

Alamayda Wagner’s life has left her cynical, but also vigilant, and that’s what propels her to Cornucopia, Oregon to uncover the secrets her father took to his grave. She quickly discovers her only hope includes trusting Isaac Corum. That soon proves to be expensive, and not just financially.

The last thing Isaac Corum needs or wants is a snooty woman telling him he didn’t do enough to save her father, which is what her letter implied. He’d helped the man more than most people would have, and swears he won’t go out of his way like that again. He’ll meet her at the Baker City train station, deliver her father’s belongings, and send her back the way she came.

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About patyjag

Paty Jager is an award-winning author of 30+ novels, novellas, and short stories of murder mystery, western romance, and action adventure. All her work has Western or Native American elements in them along with hints of humor and engaging characters. Paty and her husband raise alfalfa hay in rural eastern Oregon. Riding horses and battling rattlesnakes, she not only writes the western lifestyle, she lives it.
This entry was posted in Excerpts, Paty Jager, Uncategorized, Western History, Westerns and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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