For The Children, by Romance Author, Marin Thomas

Harlequin American #1184
ISBN-10: 0373751885
ISBN-13: 978-0373751884
October 2007
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For The Children

Schoolteacher Johanna Macpherson has vowed that the children of Heather's Hollow will leave her school knowing the value of their Scotch-Irish heritage, but now one of those untrustworthy flatlanders is nosing around the village's mountain roads, on the trail of the legendary bootlegger Lightning Jack, and meddling in her objective.

Sullivan Mooreland is pure city slicker. Ambitious and unnervingly sexy, the Seattle reporter, with his flashy red Corvette, is a sure sign of trouble to come. If Lightning Jack, her clan's most notorious moonshine maker, is exposed, everything Jo loves about the hollow will change. For the sake of the children and their future, she has to stop the handsome interloper from writing a story that will put their way of life in danger.

When flatlander life collides with clan life, there is tension, humor, tenderness, stubbornness, and more than one change of heart—all culminating in a true feel-good story. Thomas brings her readers as close to clan life as most will ever come. She has captured the essence of this unique lifestyle with grace and dignity. She portrays the war waged in today's world between the old ways and the new generation's desire to step into the twenty-first century in a sensitive, yet realistic manner.

For the Children is the first in a series of books the author calls the Hearts of Appalachia series. Book number two (In a Soldier's Arms) is available February 2008, and I cannot wait to get my hands on a copy of it. Thomas has a new fan!
      Lee Ambrose, www.storycirclebookreviews.org

For The Children
What a colorful story! Ms. Thomas has written a richly populated romance full of fun, family, and love. I loved the characters in this story! Ms. Thomas plopped me straight into Appalachia with her vivid writing and bold characterizations. I felt as though I would know Granny if I met her, or could find my way to the blacksmith's place or get an invitation to bake cookies with the pastor.

I'm thrilled to pieces that there is another "Hearts of Appalachia" book coming out in February. I'll be first in line to pick up my copy of In a Soldier's Arms.
      --- www.longandshortreviews.com

Taught to be suspicious of flatlanders, Johanna Macpherson is unwilling to trust the charming reporter, Sullivan Mooreland, who is out to write an exposé on the local moonshine legend, Lightning Jack. No matter that Sullivan has been honest and open about his reason for being there or more importantly for being the first man since forever who makes Jo's heart flutter.
As the cynical, hard-bitten reporter pits his wits with the feisty, headstrong teacher, readers are kept wondering about his true intentions. Are all Sullivan's maneuverings and passionate promises honest attempts at revealing the identity of the secretive bootlegger, or is he actually after a loftier target; that is, Johanna's fiercely protective heart of Appalachia.

A wonderfully charming love story, intriguingly threaded through with fascinating glimpses into the traditions of the Appalachian culture by the refreshing Marin Thomas. Unquestionably, For The Children is an unforgettable start to her brand new miniseries *Hearts of Appalachia*
      --- www.romancejunkies.com

4 Stars: Marin Thomas will have readers laughing out loud and glued to the pages thanks to the author's zany characters. Still, Thomas manages to keep the romance center stage in this wonderful story about how opposites do attract.
      --- RT Bookreviews

Marin Thomas knows how too win over the reader’s favor by combining the right amount of humor, a good strong plot, and believable characters, and does so with her newest book For the Children kicks off the Hearts of Appalachia series. You will laugh out loud at the antics of Jo trying to detour Sully from her trail! You won’t want to miss this one!
      --- www.aromancereview.com

A wonderfully charming love story, intriguingly threaded through with fascinating glimpses into the traditions of the Appalachian culture by the refreshing Marin Thomas. Unquestionably, For The Children is an unforgettable start to her brand new miniseries *Hearts of Appalachia*
      --- www.romancejunkies.com

FOR THE CHILDREN is a smart, sassy story with colorful characters, a wealth of folklore, and a beautifully written love story. Once again, Marin Thomas does not disappoint her readers!

Ms. Thomas brings the culture of the Appalachian Mountains to life with vivid details. Be prepared to fall in love with this area, its history, and especially with the host of characters that surround Joanna and Sullivan. One of the things I loved about Johanna was her dedication to preserving the Hollow’s way of life. Not only does this make her an incredibly strong and complex heroine, but it also provides many opportunities to watch the sparks fly between Johanna and Sullivan. And, believe me, Ms. Thomas, is a master at creating incredible sparks between her hero and heroine.

Fast paced, action packed, and with plenty of signature Marin Thomas heart, FOR THE CHILDREN is a charming Americana romance that will captivate readers. This Harlequin American Romance is highly recommended!
       --www.ck2skwipsandkritiques

The last thing Johanna Macpherson expected to encounter on the winding Kentucky mountain road was a gussied-up flatlander.

Leaning forward, she pressed her bosom to the steering wheel and slowed the pickup for a better look-see at the stranger running like a skinned cat from her neighbor's pack of coonhounds. Suit tails flapping in the wind and tie ringing his neck, the "cat" was losing ground fast. Served the man right if the pack treed him.

She'd been taught from a young age not to trust flatlanders--anyone not born on the mountain. She'd never understood the clan's suspicion of strangers--until she'd attended the University of Kentucky in Lexington and discovered that people weren't always what they appeared to be.

Some lessons had to be learned the hard way.

As she pulled the pickup even with the stranger, she noticed his face was redder than a prize-winning tomato and his cheeks puffed like a steam locomotive. The poor idiot was plumb tuckered. After retrieving the shotgun from under the bench seat, she pointed the barrel out the passenger window, then blasted the truck horn.

The stranger glanced at her. His eyes widened until only the whites were visible and then he dove into the mess of baby cattails growing in the ditch. Good grief. Did he expect her to shoot him? Jo aimed the gun skyward and fired. The hounds scattered--except Beauregard. She steered the truck to the side of the road.

Weapon in hand, she traipsed back to where the stranger had taken cover. If it was possible to lick a human to death, then Beauregard had accomplished the feat. All one hundred pounds of beagle-foxhound mix rested on the man's chest, while his long, pink tongue laved the stranger from neck to hairline. The flatlander played possum--attempted to, anyway but the fool forgot to hold his breath.

Amused, Jo propped the shotgun on her hip and tugged the brim of her floppy felt hat lower to shield her eyes from the mid-afternoon sun. The man's face was lean and angular, in contrast to his large mouth. Thick brows, several shades darker than his tussled wheat-colored hair, slashed across his forehead. Not a handsome face, but an interesting one nonetheless. Jo stuck her fingers in her mouth and whistled. Beau's ears perked and he sprang from his perch, eliciting a loud Oomph! from the possum.

"Go!" She pointed to the woods and Beau bounded up the hill. Leveling the rifle at the trespasser's heart, she asked, "How long you planning to lie there like a carcass?"

One eye--brown in color--cracked open. "Depends."

"On what?"

"On whether there's any shot left in that gun."

"I got shot left, mister."

"You going to use it on me?"

"Depends."

"On…?"

"What business you have in our hollow."

"Your hollow?" Grunting, the interloper rolled to his knees and hauled himself to his feet. Tall, he towered over Jo's five feet six inches.

Not until he cleared his throat did she realize she'd been caught checking him out. Well, phooey. She hadn’t come in contact with a man this attractive since…since… Never mind. "This side of the mountain is private property."

Eyes narrowed on the gun, he inquired, "You any good with that thing?"

Jo aimed at the woods, took a bead on her target, then fired. A pinecone exploded from the branch of a tree.

The flatlander swallowed hard. "My car ran out of gas. I was returning to town--" he motioned behind her "--until the dogs showed up out of nowhere. Then I switched directions." He motioned over his shoulder. "My car's parked around the bend."

"I've got a gas can in the truck. Meet you there."

Without affording him an opportunity to respond, she hopped into the pickup and sped off. She glanced in the rearview mirror and grinned at the trespasser's whopper-jawed gape.

Did he expect her to give a stranger a lift? As soon as she rounded the curve in the road, she spotted the car. A red corvette. Typical hoighty-toighty flatlander vehicle--useless. She parked behind the sports car, hopped out of the truck and grabbed the gas can. Ten seconds later she swore under her breath. The blasted gas-tank door was locked. So much for her plan to be gone by the time the owner caught up.

She considered leaving the fuel and driving off, but there was something wily about the stranger that kept her feet planted. At least, that was what she told herself rather than admit she wouldn't mind another gander at the man who'd made her heart go thumpity-bump.

A few minutes passed and he came into view, his face scrunched. Squashing her lips together to keep from smiling at his annoyed expression, she stuck her arm through the truck window and placed her hand on the shotgun--a person couldn't be too careful these days.

"Thanks for the lift," he spat, then removed his keys from his pants pocket, directed the fob at the car and bleeped open the gas door. Ignoring her, he set to filling the tank.

"What brings you up here?" she asked.

Silence.

Okay, maybe she wasn't Ms. Ambassador for the Appalachian Mountains Tourist Bureau, but she'd loaned him her gas can. "If you'd state your business, I might be of help."

His chest expanded with a deep breath, which he held for more than the count of three, before he released the air in a noisy burst. With purposeful movements, he capped the can, shut the tank door and faced her, his mouth twisting in a cynical grimace. Just like a city slicker, showing emotion in front of a stranger. "Heather's Hollow."

Fortunately for Jo she had practice concealing her emotions from people she didn't trust. After that slip, the stranger was definitely in the don't-trust category.

"I stopped at the post office in Finnegan's Stand. The clerk wasn't much help. Nodded to the mountain and mumbled, "Up there." The man stowed the empty gas container in the truck bed. "I've been driving in circles for the past hour and a half. You're the first person I've come across on this road."

Not a surprise. Folks tended to remain at home with their families on Sunday afternoons. Seeing how it was a warm end-of-April day, she suspected several of the clan's men had headed for the banks of the Black River to tickle trout.

The stranger stopped before her and Jo swore she caught the scent of cologne--a musky, warm smell that made her want to stand on tiptoe and sniff his neck. He dug his wallet from his pants pocket and held out two twenty-dollar bills. When she didn't accept the cash, he added, "For the gas--" he ran his gaze up and down her tattered overalls "--and whatever else."

First he'd trespassed on her mountain. Second he'd insulted her with an offer of money for lending a helping hand. And third he could have pretended not to notice her ragged work clothes. Johanna Macpherson, since when have you cared what a man thinks of your appearance?

"And…" He wiggled the bills under her nose. "For scaring off the dogs."

Accepting a stranger's cash didn’t sit right with Jo. But if taking the payment sent the man on his way... She removed one bill from his fingers. "The dog scaring was complimentary."

He smirked, showing off big white teeth and a hint of a dimple.

Forcing her gaze from the sexy little pit in his right cheek, she asked, "What do you want with Heather's Hollow?"

"Sullivan Mooreland from Seattle." He held out a hand. "I'm a reporter for the Seattle Courier Newspaper." When Jo ignored his hand, he shoved his fingers through his mussed hair, sending bits of dry grass and weeds floating into the air. "I'm covering a story for the paper."

Six years ago, Jo had been betrayed in the worst way, producing a heightened sense of suspicion when it came to strangers. "What kind of story?"

His eyes flashed with indecision, changing the color to dark chocolate. Fascinating. She wondered if Sullivan Mooreland realized the brown orbs broadcast his emotions. He glanced up the road. Then down the road. Then into the ditch alongside the road. Finally determining that they were alone, he whispered, "Lightning Jack. I intend to interview the famous bootlegger."

Stomach churning like flash-flood waters, she asked, "And you believe you'll find him here?"

Excerpt from: For The Children by Marin Thomas
Copyright (c) 2007 by Brenda Smith-Beagley
ISBN-10: 0373751885
ISBN-13: 978-0373751884
By: Marin Thomas
Imprint and Series: Harlequin American
Copyright ©: 2007
By: Marin Thomas
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher.
The edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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