Ilsa 22


One of the most talented seamstresses of her time, Ilsa Thorsen could sell her creations anywhere in the world, but she ends up on her sister’s ranch in the western town of Pendleton, Oregon. Disgusted with the dust, smells, and nearly every aspect of rural life, Ilsa wonders how she’ll survive, particularly with the arrogant Tony Campanelli constantly underfoot.

Enterprising and hardworking, Tony Campanelli embraces life in the small community of Pendleton with his sister and their friends, especially since Ilsa Thorsen moves to town. The uptight seamstress just needs to learn to have some fun and Tony’s convinced he’s the man for the job.

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Praise for Ilsa

This book captivated me from the start. I loved the way the story opened with excitement from the very beginning. Filled with adventure,, intrigue and a lot of laughter throughout the book made it a great read.  “

Amazon Reviewer

“This book twists and turns through history with loads of details and fun, flirting and frivolity, fear and freedom.”

Amazon Reviewer

“Watching Ilsa grow from a timid unsure young girl, to a strong, take charge young woman, was so much fun and I rooted for her the whole way. And than there’s yummy, handsome Tony who falls in love with Ilas, which creates a lot of sexual tension in this sweet clean romance. “

Amazon Reviewer


Ilsa glared at Aundy then marched herself around the house to the kitchen door.

Mad at her sister for laughing and the rest of them for joining in, Ilsa stamped her foot and dislodged a flurry of eggshells on Aundy’s clean floor. Yanking her apron over her head, more broken shells and slimy yolks dislodged themselves from her head.

Hearing the back door shut behind her, she let her temper have free rein.

“How could you? It’s bad enough I made a fool of myself, but you set off all the laughter. It’s just mean.”

The sound of a muffled laugh made her even angrier. Trying to reach behind her back to undo the buttons of her dress, she needed to take a bath and have a fresh start to this awful day. It wasn’t even yet six in the morning.

“Don’t stand there like a hysterical ninny. Help me get out of this,” she ordered, resisting the urge to stamp her foot again. She felt fingers working at the buttons of her dress but the musky, masculine scent that reached her nose made her fully aware Aundy didn’t stand behind her.

Spinning around, she looked into the smirking face of Tony Campanelli.


“Me,” he said, in a husky, low voice. Although his mouth still turned up in a smile, his eyes burned like a golden fire as they bore into hers. “Let me help you, chickadee.”

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