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Irish Hearts

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SKU: 37521 Category: Tags: ,

Author: Roberts Nora

Brand: Silhouette

Package Dimensions: 33x201x363

Number Of Pages: 448

Release Date: 26-12-2006

Details: Product Description

Irish Thoroughbred
It was a dream come true for Irish lass Adelia Cunnane—to work with her uncle, a horse trainer at Royal Meadows, one of the most renowned stables in the world. But there was a catch, and his name was Travis Grant. He was the stable’s owner, and a man as proud, as passionate, as opinionated as…herself.

Irish Rose
When Adelia’s feisty cousin Erin McKinnon first meets Burke Logan, she’s not impressed. He’s a womanizing, cigar-smoking gambler who won the farm beside Royal Meadows in a game of poker. He has money—too much for Erin’s liking—and a bad reputation. But Burke keeps staring at her—and Erin keeps finding herself staring back.

And she’s beginning to think she may have finally met her match….

About the Author

Nora Roberts is the bestselling author of more than two hundred romance novels. She was the first author to be inducted into the Romance Writers of America Hall of Fame. Since her first bestseller in 1991, Nora’s books have spent more than two hundred weeks in the number one spot on the
New York Times bestseller list. There are more than five hundred million copies of her books in print, published in over thirty-four countries.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Adelia Cunnane stared out the window without seeing the magic layer of clouds. Some formed into mountains, others glaciers, flattening and thinning into an ice-encrusted lake; but, for one experiencing her first air journey, she found the view uninspiring. Her mind was crowded with doubts and uncertainties that merged with a strong pang of homesickness for a small farm in Ireland. But both farm and Ireland were now very far away, and every minute that crawled by brought her closer to America and strangers. She knew, with a sigh of frustration, that nothing in her life had ever prepared her properly to cope with either.

Her parents had been killed in a lorry accident, leaving her an orphan at the tender age of ten. In the weeks that followed her parents’ death, Adelia had drifted though a fog of shock, turning inward to ward off the agony of separation, the strange and terrifying feeling of desertion. Slowly, a wall had been constructed around the pain, and she had thrown herself into the work of the farm with an adult’s dedication.

Her father’s sister, Lettie Cunnane, had taken over both child and farm, running both with a firm hand. Although never unkind, neither had she been affectionate: she had possessed little patience or understanding for the unpredictable, often tempestuous child.

The farm had been the only common ground between them, and woman and child had built their relationship with the dark, fertile soil and the hours of labor it required. They had lived and worked together for nearly thirteen years; then Lettie had suffered a paralyzing stroke, and Adelia had been forced to divide her time between the duties of the farm and caring for an invalid’s needs. Days and nights had merged together as she waged the determined battle to shoulder the increasing responsibility.

Her enemies had been the lack of time and the lack of money. When, after six long months, she was again left alone, Adelia was near the point of exhausted desperation. Her aunt was gone, and though she had worked unceasingly, the farm had had to be sold for taxes.

She had written to her only remaining relative, her father’s elder brother, Padrick, who had emigrated to America twenty years previously, informing him of his sister’s death. His answer had been immediate, the letter warm and loving, asking her to join him. The last sentence of the missive was a simple, gentle command: “Come to America; your home is with me now.”

So she had packed her few belongings; sold or given away what could not be taken with her, and said goodbye to Skibbereen and the only home she had ever known….

A sudden movement of the plane jolted Adelia back from memory. She sat back against the cushions of her seat, fin

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