It took me a long time to re-release my novella The Virgin Madam. I re-edited the story, and then I had to decide whether it was still going to be the first book in a series or a stand-alone. I hadn’t written any more books in the Girls and Guns series although book 2 is already outlined. I’m happy to stay I’m back on the lesbian romance train.
My current WIP is actually a FFM menage set in Ireland. Girls just gotta have fun. *grin*
The Virgin Madam
Girls and Guns, Book 1
By Shiloh Saddler
After her Papa is murdered by a member of the Fletcher Gang in 1879, Laura Rutherford inherits a brothel in Bitterroot Flats, California a town run by outlaws. She secretly lusts after the working girls in her establishment thinking her urges will prevent her from finding love, and she is destined to live life as the Virgin Madam.
When Joe Bascum comes to her brothel asking for a room she is surprised to learn that this young cowboy is actually a woman in disguise and she wants to fulfill her fantasy. But a member of the Fletcher Gang is hunting Joe out for revenge. Will the outlaws prevent them from starting a life together?
Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/VirginMadam
Where was I going to sleep tonight now that a man was in my room? Oh dear … I had forgotten to give him a towel. I grabbed one from behind the bar and hurried up the stairs, trying to figure out what I was going to say. It wasn’t proper for me to enter his room knowing he was taking a bath. But Mr. Wilson was breaking up a fight between two cowboys and he was the only man in my employ. I knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” Mr. Bascum called.
“Laura,” I said. “You’ll need a towel. I’m sorry I forgot. I—”
“Come in.” His voice cut off my babbling.
I swallowed hard. My cheeks burned even before I touched the doorknob. I opened the door, my eyes squeezed shut.
“You’ll run into the furniture if you don’t watch where you’re going.”
I opened my eyes, my attention naturally snapping toward the voice. Sitting emerged in the tub was Mr. Bascum—or rather Miss Bascum. I blinked at her small exposed bosom. “You’re, you’re a she.”
She laughed, the pleasant noise reverberating through the room. “Name’s Josephine, but don’t go spreading it around.”
“Why are you dressed as a man?”
Josephine let out a deep sigh. “That is a long story. The short answer is I’m safer traveling as a man, and society frowns on a woman wearing trousers, riding horses astride, and handling a gun.”
“I see.” And now I knew why I was attracted to this stranger—she was a beautiful woman with blue eyes I could easily lose myself in.