The Gunslinger's Untamed Bride. Stacey Kayne

The Gunslinger's Untamed Bride - Stacey Kayne

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       Praise for Stacey Kayne

      THE GUNSLINGER’S UNTAMED BRIDE ‘ …fast-paced and laced with humour, action and sexual tension.’ —RT Book Reviews

      BRIDE OF SHADOW CANYON ‘ …keep this one for a good night’s read.’ —RT Book Reviews

      MOUNTAIN WILD ‘Kayne’s strong and appealing characters and colourful Western setting deliver just the right amount of flavour to a tough and tender story.’ —RT Book Reviews

      MUSTANG WILD ‘Fast-paced and well written, MUSTANG WILD was a delight to devour. Highly romantic, with just the right touch of humour, MUSTANG WILD is one for the keeper shelf. Stacey Kayne has penned a treasure …’ —Cataromance

      ‘This strong debut is a tale of one woman’s struggle to overcome a father’s deceit before she can find peace, forgiveness, and passion with the man meant for her. Each character carries his or her own weight, adding depth and humour to this honestly written story.’

       —RT Book Reviews

      MAVERICK WILD ‘Excitement, mystery and delight fill the pages of MAVERICK WILD, Stacey Kayne’s latest historical treasure. Kayne can weave a story that will capture you and not let go. She has demonstrated herself to be a talented force in the world of Western romance. ’—Cataromance

       “Am I in jail?”

      Warm throaty laughter drew Lily’s gaze to a pair of sparkling blue eyes. Flutters erupted low in her belly. A sudden heat flooded her face, and she averted her gaze from the handsome stranger.

      “Mind telling me what you’re doing up here, Lily?” he asked.

      “This is all a terrible misunderstanding. I’ve come to Pine Ridge on business.”

      “I am aware of that.” The corners of his mouth slid upward again, and Lily was quite certain she’d never known a man with such a charming disposition.

      “Sheriff Barns!” The stranger glanced over his shoulder as a man burst in through the door.

      “What is it, Davy?”

      “Barns?” said Lily.

      The Sheriff looked back at her, and Lily realised she’d spoken the name aloud.

      “That’s right,” he said. “Juniper Barns.”

      Lily couldn’t draw her next breath. His narrowing blue eyes suggested her expression revealed her shock. He can’t be.

      She’d come to Pine Ridge to kill the Sheriff.

       Recent novels by the same author:





      (part of Stetsons, Spring and Wedding Rings anthology)



      features characters you will have met in


      About the Author

      STACEY KAYNE has always been a daydreamer. If the comments on her elementary school report cards are any indication, it’s a craft she mastered early on. Having a passion for history and a flair for storytelling, she strives to weave fact and fiction into a wild ride that can capture the heart. Stacey lives on a ranch near the Sierra Nevada, with her high-school sweetheart turned husband of eighteen years and their two sons. Visit her website at


      Stacey Kayne

      MILLS & BOON

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      Dedicated to…

      Robyn, Alyssa & Ali

      Inspirations of strength, intelligence and courage.

      Stick to your guns—follow your dreams.

      Special Thanks to…

      My family for their unending support and patience.

      Sheila Raye, Marlene Urso and Carla James, my

      fearless critique partners.

      My wonderful agent, Kim Lionetti.

      Linda Fildew and Lydia Mason for their editorial

      expertise and making my job a joy.

      All my readers!


       Fall 1876

       California Foothills

       “Juniper Barns!”

      Juniper’s horse crested the last rise of swaying yellow grasses as his name carried back on the breeze in an angry shout. He reined in, his gaze locking on five riders mounted in front of the ranch house that had been his sanctuary for the past six years.

      Sprays of light from the setting sun glinted off their guns, raising the fine hairs on the back of Juniper’s neck. Sensation tingled in the tips of his fingers. He forgot about the exhaustion tugging at his muscles and the sweet scent of freshly baked bread that had been calling him home for supper. His free hand flexed, his palm burning for the grip of his gun concealed beneath his range coat.

      A kid didn’t shoot thirteen men into their dusty graves without making enemies. He’d known there’d be a day when the demons of his past would come to call.

      One of the men shouted Juniper’s name toward the house as he dismounted.

      That day had come.

      “He’s not here!”

      The woman who’d raised him from the age of fourteen stood on the covered porch, baby Isaac in her arms. Rachell’s four-and five-year-old daughters huddled against her skirt. May’s ebony braids set her apart from her younger sister, April, whose hair was as red as her mother’s.

      Juniper urged his horse forward. His gaze homed in on the man at the base of the stairs. As Juniper neared the house, the stranger turned toward the sound of his approaching horse.

      Flat forehead, square chin, dark beady eyes … features similar to that of Dan Yates.

      He hadn’t forgotten a single face of the men who’d fallen to his guns. They rose up in his mind at odd times, haunting him.

      He tugged on the reins, slowing his mare as she crossed the yard.


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