A Good Prospect (MMF)
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By: Karen Mercury | Other books by Karen Mercury Categories: Erotic Romance, Historical, Menage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys Word Count: 75,687 Heat Level: SCORCHING Published By: Siren-BookStrand, Inc. [Ménage Amour: Erotic Western Ménage a Trois Romance, M/M/F, with M/M elements, light BDSM, sex toys] Salvador Palomares, Don of a vast California rancho, saves the life of Ophir, a former slave pierced by an Indian arrow. Sal has wasted years in drunken cattle driving and horse racing, and he is surprised when Ophir tells him gold has been discovered, and his land is being invaded by a gang of ruffians determined to banish all Spanish “foreigners.” Sal and Ophir rescue Tamasin, a downtrodden Irish refugee raised in a convent. Their passion for Tamasin creates rivalry between the two partners. Tamasin loves them equally, so the decision to form a ménage cements their bond. But their empire is threatened by The League, lawless thieves moving in to starve them out of their own mines. The trio’s goal is to live in peace. And they fight to the bitter end to reclaim it. Their love is”¦a good prospect. A Siren Erotic Romance |
A Good Prospect (MMF)
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STORY EXCERPT
“Mr. Palomares!” With shoulders squared, the buffoon addressed Knut. Knut sat up proudly. “How did you know that I am Mr.””” he started to say, but Sal cut him off. “I am Don Salvador Palomares,” he declared with irritation. Knut looked offended to have not been allowed to be Don Salvador for more than one second. “Who are you, and what is your business?” “Mr. McCarthy says you should proceed to the Legislature of a Thousand Drinks, and meet with him there.” The thug reversed his direction and lumbered back down the street. Ophir shrugged. “I guess we should follow. Although what will we do with Tamasin while we’re having this confab? We can’t very well leave her in the street with these ruffians.” “No, not at all. And Knut will turn into a crybaby if we try to leave him out. I suppose we should take her in with us.” “If this place really does have a thousand drinks, she could amuse herself with some aguardiente. Didn’t it seem strange that lout immediately knew who you were, as though we were expected here?” The thuggish fellow vanished into one of the many buildings that had been built in the past couple of months. There was no sign out front, and no drunks were describing zigzag Virginia fences in and out the door, so it couldn’t be an ordinary grog shop. “Maybe it is sort of an office building, such as we are building in Bear Valley?” Knut suggested when several efficient Americans leaped forward to take their reins. “But I would really like to know more about these thousand drinks.” The interior proved to be a large room about twenty feet long, a wide array of different rickety tables and chairs lit by whale oil lamps. Indeed there was a rough oak bar and a barkeep who wasn’t very busy, as there were only three men seated at a center table, so Knut made a beeline for one of the many drinks he was assured were there, taking Tamasin with him. The two partners approached the center table, and Tyke McCarthy removed his threadbare, misshapen hat. Apparently for one who styled himself the alcalde of this burg, he couldn’t afford a better hat. “Mr. Palomares,” he sneered. He did not extend his hand. “Last time we met, you introduced me to an oak tree and stole some of my workers.” Salvador placed his sombrero on the greasy table, and nodded guardedly. “Yes, I did. California is a free state, and workers are free to go wherever the pay and the treatment is the best.” “Well, and thank you for asking me how my head is doing. I see you’ve brought your contingent with you””a colored slave”””he looked Ophir up and down as though he were a steaming pile of cow’s entrails”””and your Swedish manservant, as well as a”¦” “Yes, this is my partner, Ophir, as I introduced you before,” Sal said quickly, as Tyke’s eyeballs were already glazing over with a prurient appetite at the sight of Tamasin. Sal did, however, extend his hand to the stranger wearing an extremely wide-brimmed felt hat. “And you might be”¦?” The small-eyed fellow shook his hand, but said guardedly, “Thomas Jefferson Green.” The anti-greaser slave-owner narrowed his tiny eyes at Sal. Sal had a feeling this meeting would not go well. The third member of the meeting was the burly enforcer. No one introduced him, and no one was sitting down. Sal said, “We’re here to discuss collecting rents, and the loss of many of my cattle.” “Oh, is that so?” Tyke laughed and raised his empty glass in the direction of the barkeep. “Sam, a round of whiskeys all around.” “No, thank you,” said Ophir. “Thank you, no,” Sal echoed. “Some water would be nice.” “Water?” scoffed Tyke. He laughed with his partner, Mr. Green. It was a gruesome sight in one so slimy and repugnant. Sal certainly didn’t want to have to look at his corroded teeth again. “Have you ever seen anyone drink water in these parts, Tom Jeff?” Tom Jeff shared Tyke’s amusement, and his teeth weren’t nearly as noisome. “Maybe Mr. Palomares is so interested in water because he’s fixing to steal all the Merced water for his own operations upriver.” Sal frowned. “Steal? You can hardly steal water, Mr. Green. If anything, you’re stealing it from me, as I own this entire part of the river.” Tom Jeff’s face reddened and Tyke cut him off in a show of forced jollity. “And maybe that’s why he wants a glass of it back, Tom Jeff. Now, here’s Mr. Frostad, how are you, my fine fellow? I see you don’t consider yourself above drinking our whiskey.” Knut gestured with his whiskey glass. “Jah, Mr. McCarthy, I find it most interesting to compare the different vintages of whiskey from one part of this country to another””” Tyke nearly bowled over his chair in his attempts to greet Tamasin, who had been hiding behind Knut, soaking her lips in her whiskey glass. “And who might I have the pleasure of greeting?” he said slimily, while Tamasin yanked her hand away from his paw. Salvador stepped to Tamasin’s side, insinuating himself bodily between Tyke and his paramour. “She is nobody, she is our housemaid.” Already he intended to apologize later to Tamasin for that remark, but he didn’t want Tyke paying undue attention to her. He took her by the upper arm and led her to an empty chair while saying, “Now, we have business to discuss. Knut here has taken my survey of my land, and filed it in San José””” “As California Land Case Number One!” Knut pointed out with alacrity. “””so it’s only a matter of time before my ownership is acknowledged. Most everyone in and around Mariposa and Bear Valley has agreed to pay rent for the use of my land in their mining operations. Now you, as alcalde”””Sal loathed bestowing Tyke with that moniker, but flattery would help in this instance”””have the power to persuade people around Hornitos to follow. Knut, show him the claim you filed.” As he shuffled around in his purse, Knut remarked, “Why do they call this building the Legislature of a Thousand Drinks? It does not appear to be an ordinary grog shop, more of a headquarters for your League.” “Ah, that’s easy,” Tyke replied happily. “Tom Jeff Green here has served in three Southern legislatures. He had a mighty idea to come to California from Texas and use slaves to grow cotton.” “Which is why he was ejected from the Yuba River,” Ophir mentioned. Tyke ignored Ophir. “So Mr. Green here is going back to San José to run for state senator. He has a splendid saloon there known as the Legislature of a Thousand Drinks, so we started up this one here.” Sal frowned. “And what is your business in Hornitos then, Mr. Green? Shouldn’t you be in San José trying to win office?” |
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