Australian Quinns. Kate Hoffmann
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KATE HOFFMANN has been writing for mills & Boon for fifteen years and has published nearly sixty books, including mills & Boon® Blaze® books, novellas and even the occasional historical. When she isn’t writing, she is involved in various musical and theatrical activities in her small Wisconsin community. She enjoys sleeping late, drinking coffee and eating bonbons. She lives with her two cats, Tally and Chloe, and her computer, which shall remain nameless.
Australian Quinns
The Mighty Quinns:
Brody
The Mighty Quinns:
Teague
The Mighty Quinns:
Allum
Kate Hoffmann
MILLS & BOON
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Table of Contents
The Mighty Quinns: Brody
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
The Mighty Quinns: Teague
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
The Mighty Quinns: Allum
Prologue
1
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
Epilogue
For Sarah Mayberry, fellow author and gentle reader, who took the time to make sure this book had “no worries.”
Queensland, Australia—January, 1994
“HOW CAN A ROCK be magic?” Callum asked, standing at the base of the huge boulder. “It’s just a bloody big rock.”
“Look around you, dipstick,” Teague shouted from the top of the rock. “Do you see any other rocks like this around here? Gramps said it’s here because it is magic. You stand on top of this rock and make a wish and it comes true. Aborigines brought it here and they know a lot of magic.”
“I think Gramps had a few kangaroos loose in the paddock.” Callum chuckled. “I wouldn’t believe everything he said.”
Brody stepped up to the rock. “He did not. And I’m telling Dad you said that. It’s not nice to speak ill of the dead.”
“He told us there was treasure buried out here, too,” Callum said. “He even told me he dug for it when he was a boy. Who would bury treasure out here?”
Brody punched Callum in the shoulder. “Give me a leg up,” he said.
“No, we have to get back. Mum will have supper ready.”
“I want to climb it,” Brody insisted. It was hard enough always being last in line, but he hated it when Callum tried to be the boss. At least Teague liked to explore and have adventures. He treated Brody as if they were the very same age, not eighteen months apart. Callum was always the careful one, warning them off when things got too dangerous. Three years older than Brody and he might have well been forty, Brody thought.
“You’ll fall and crack your noggin open,” Callum warned. “And I’ll get the blame, just like I always get the blame for every bad thing you morons do.”
“Cal, help him up,” Teague said. “It’s not that high. And I’ll hang on to him.”
“You don’t have to hang on to me,” Brody said. “I’m not a baby.”
Reluctantly, Callum wove his fingers together and bent down. Brody put his foot into his older brother’s hands and a few moments later, Teague had dragged him to the top of the rock. “Wow,” Brody said. “This is high. I bet I can see all of Queensland from