The Rebel Wife

The Rebel Wife--

Available in print and e-book formats at The Wild Rose Press, Amazon, and many other on-line book stores. 

When war correspondent Jackson Porter lies to a Union patrol to save a red-headed rebel, he gets something he never expected...a wife. But with her knowledge of corruption at the federal prisons, Louisa is his best chance to deliver the topnotch article his newspaper editor expects. The one thing Jackson didn't count on was a burning desire for his pretend spouse.
Louisa Carleton needs a miracle…even if that miracle comes in the shape of an arrogant, highfalutin Yankee. With her brother’s imminent death in prison heavy on her mind, she has no option but to join forces with the enemy.  Can she save her brother from a vindictive prison commander while still protecting her heart, or will Jackson stir dark memories she wants to forget




ARC - Reader Review
What a delightful novel. Loved the spunky Rebel Heroine and the hot dashing reporter hero. The chemistry between the two... hot. And the loyalty to family was perfectly delightful. I thoroughly enjoyed this take on the historical time. It was fun, refreshing and romantically thrilling.


“Don’t come any closer.” Moonlight filtering through the tent walls glinted on the steel of her blade. “Or I’ll make your wife a widow.”

“That’s not a problem. I don’t have a wife.” He lowered himself onto his bedroll in a slow, non-provoking movement. One knife nick was enough. “Okay if I light a candle? I’d like to find my clothes.”

“Those Yankees gone?”


“You’re sure? Because if they’re waiting out there...”

“The soldiers are gone, ma’am. Otherwise, I’d be risking both our lives after that tale I just told.”

She hesitated, then gave a soft grunt of agreement. “Fine. Get your clothes. But no quick moves.”

His things were stacked in neat, easily accessible piles. It always paid to be prepared. Naked was not the way he wanted to greet visitors, especially half-crazed, knife-wielding women. He pulled on his trousers, then thumbed a match to life and touched it to the candle. Soft light filled the tent and--
Gripes. Bright hair didn’t begin to describe it. Whatever he’d expected, it wasn’t this untamed, flaming wildness. Below the blazing red halo, pale green eyes met his. She had a pert, defiant nose and luscious pink lips just made for devouring. His gut clenched as though he’d been sucker-punched. This woman was dangerous – in more ways than one.

“Reckon I should thank you for not turning me in.”

Her full lower lip bloomed into a slight pout. He wanted to reach out and touch it. “Always happy to help a lady,” he said instead.
Any man in his right mind would be wary of this lady. Strangely, he wasn’t. She might be desperate, but instinct told him she wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. In spite of her ease with that pig-sticker, her eyes were way too soft. As for her knife...
“Now that we’ve settled that ugly business with the soldiers, I imagine you’ll want to be on your way.”

Several seconds passed. She merely looked at him, knife lowered but still steady in her grip.

What was she waiting for? “You are planning to leave?”

“Not just yet.”

“Why the hell not?”

She started and thrust the blade toward his face.

“Whoa, lady. Take it easy.” He shoved up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Just wondered, since that patrol is gone, if you’d want to be on your way.”

“And I said I’m not ready to go yet. For all I know, the bluebellies are just off in the woods. They’re not going to give up that easy.”

Damn this was turning into a long, unpleasant night. Eye on the knife, he inched away. “So, how long do you plan to stay? It’ll be dawn in a few hours. You’re much better off leaving under the cover of darkness.”

A moment passed. Then another. “I didn’t kill that soldier.”