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NIGHT HAWK by Beverly Jenkins - excerpt

NIGHT HAWK by Beverly Jenkins - excerpt

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Published by AvonBooks
The premier name in African-American historical romance fiction, the incomparable Beverly Jenkins returns to the American West with Night Hawk—a blistering tale of high-stakes romance that unites a hard-as-nails bounty hunter with a gorgeous spitfire whom he rescues from a vigilante mob. Set in 1884 Wyoming, Night Hunter by multiple Emma Award winner Jenkins offers a breathtaking combination of passion and adventure that will surely increase her already substantial legion of dedicated fans.


The premier name in African-American historical romance fiction, the incomparable Beverly Jenkins returns to the American West with Night Hawk—a blistering tale of high-stakes romance that unites a hard-as-nails bounty hunter with a gorgeous spitfire whom he rescues from a vigilante mob. Set in 1884 Wyoming, Night Hunter by multiple Emma Award winner Jenkins offers a breathtaking combination of passion and adventure that will surely increase her already substantial legion of dedicated fans.


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Publish date: Oct 25, 2011
Added to Scribd: Oct 20, 2011
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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11/04/2014

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Prologue
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Coast o ScotlandApril 1889
 A 
somber Ian Vance stood over his mother’sheadstone while a gale blowing in rom theNorth Atlantic raised his black duster like wings.During his lie, he’d been blessed with the love otwo women, and now both were gone. His wie,Tilda, died at the hands o a murderer namedBivens, and his mother rom loneliness and broken dreams.He gazed rueully out at the jagged clis oScotland’s coast. Angled-winged seabirds calledto one another as they dove in and out o thespray. His mother, Colleen, had been like them,rising and alling on the winds o lie. No matterthe storm, she always had a ready smile and atwinkle in her eye to let him know she’d one lasttrick up her sleeve, but when her beauty aded,the men who’d eagerly provided or her in ex-change or what she provided in bed aded, too.In her world, youth trumped age, and there wereno tricks up the sleeve or that.The sound o carriage wheels traveling over the
 
B
everly 
J
enkins
2
cobblestone road that ambled past the small cem-etery caused him to glance up. The black coachrolling into view was a lavish one; the red andgold crest emblazoned on the door all too amil-iar. It belonged to the local laird, Ian’s grandather.Two decades ago, and with Colleen’s blessings,Ian had fed Scotland or a new lie in America.He’d vowed never to return to the land o his birth, but the letter he’d received rom Colleen’sancient cook about his mother’s passing drew him back to pay his respects.He watched the coach come to a stop. He’d ex-pected his grandather to get word o his pres-ence; he hadn’t expected to be sought out.The stooped, weathered man who descendedthe step did so slowly. His hair was snow whiteand Ian realized he had to be in his late seventies.Colleen had given birth to Ian at a young age andwithout the benet o a husband. That sin aloneguaranteed her soul a seat in hell, but the revela-tion that the sire had been a Black seaman withthe British Navy so enraged her ather that he’d banished her, his only child, rom their home.And now that same man approached. Agnarled cane aided his steps and his sun-linedace held the same green eyes as Ian’s. I Colleen’sather had been urious about the birth, he’d beendoubly so to learn that her hal-Black bastardchild bore his name.“I heard you were here,” his grandather o-ered by way o greeting while critically assessingIan rom head to toe.

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