I thought today would be a great time to reveal the cover of Marnie – Book 4 in the Pendleton Petticoats series. Some of you who attended Ilsa’s launch party got a little preview then, but here she is!
I’d love to hear what you think about it!
The chair in the cover started out as a completely different chair, but I didn’t like the way the back looked. Trying to stay with a period style, I found one that was cream, but it looked too washed out. Then I got the bright idea to color it a rosy pink hue and loved the way it matched the wallpaper while contrasting with the red ruffle of Marnie’s exposed petticoat. I think it has a dainty, feminine look that is boldly interrupted by her swinging feet and stocking-clad legs.
Just for fun, I thought you might like a little sneak peek at the story, so here’s a little tidbit to tide you over:
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The cowboy stopped beneath her window and tied the horse’s reins around an iron ring set in the recently completed sidewalk. She watched as he rubbed his horse on the nose while taking in his surroundings.
Wondering who the man was, she tossed a few peanuts down, bouncing them off the top of his black Wyatt-Earp style hat.
He removed his hat, fingered a lingering peanut then slowly, ever so slowly, raised his gaze upward. In the time it took his eyes to find hers, Marnie felt like she’d had the wind knocked out of her as her breath flew out of her chest in a sudden whoosh.
Bright, intense eyes bore into hers as something unfamiliar and entirely unsettling arced between them.
She was right. Not only was the man below her similar in size to their hulking Deputy Rawlings, but he had to be every bit as handsome, too. From his broad jaw and square chin, covered in stubble, to his sensual, full bottom lip, she couldn’t think when she’d seen a more attractive man.
Scrambling to catch her breath and her thoughts, she pasted on her working girl smile and swung her leg back and forth in invitation as it dangled out her window.
“Hey, sugar, you new in town? I haven’t seen you around here before,” she said, picking up a fan of ruby-toned feathers and waving it lazily in front of her face.
The man below her didn’t answer, continuing to stare at her with a penetrating gaze as he settled his hat on a head of thick, wavy hair the same deep, golden color as the caramels she’d enjoyed last month when a client brought her a box as a gift.
“Ma’am,” the man said in a deep voice that bore a hint of a southern drawl. His fingers touched the brim of his hat and he took a step back so he didn’t have to crane his neck back so far to see her. “Might I assume you assault every male who makes the mistake of tying his horse here?”
