Judith E. French
Goodreads Author
Born
The United States
Genre
Member Since
August 2018
URL
https://www.goodreads.com/judithefrench
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Fire Hawk’s Bride: Forbidden Love - Savage Passion
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McKenna’s Bride: A Searing Tale of Love And Betrayal
9 editions
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published
1995
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The Irish Rogue: Historical Romance
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Morgan’s Woman
9 editions
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published
2012
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Rachel’s Choice
9 editions
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published
2011
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The Conqueror (Alexander Trilogy, #1)
3 editions
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published
2003
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Fortune’s Mistress: The Royal Rogue She Chooses (Fortune Trilogy, #1)
5 editions
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published
1993
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The Taming of Shaw MacCade: Historical Romance
3 editions
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published
2001
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By Love Alone (The Triumphant Hearts Series, Book 4)
5 editions
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published
1987
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Tender Fortune (The Triumphant Hearts Series, Book 2)
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“You risked your own life to save me,” she said. “I won’t forget that.” His face grew expressionless again. “I told you, Becca. You belong to me. I will not let you go until my father is released.” You belong to me. You belong to me. The words echoed in her mind. “I belong to no one but myself,” she said throatily. But deep inside, she wished . . . “You are my captive.” “I could have left you to bleed to death,” she reminded him. “Ahikta. It is true. But my father is old. If I do not save him, he will die. It shames me to use a woman for a weapon, but sometimes a man must do what he must.” “I think I understand that now,” she said. As I must return to a husband that I can never love, as I might have loved this man were we not born mortal enemies. Talon did not speak again, and in a little while he drifted off to sleep. She sat beside him, hands in her lap, gazing at his sleeping face. How alien he is, she thought, and how beautiful. His skin tone was a warm red-bronze, his cheekbones high and prominent. His lips were thin but sensual, his eyes slightly slanted beneath raven-black brows. His forehead was high and broad, his chin and nose ruggedly defined. It was all she could do to keep from touching his face again. She wanted to stroke the smooth lines of his beardless jaw, to trace those fierce arching brows and commit them all to memory.”
― The Fierce Loving
― The Fierce Loving
“He glanced at Sweet Water and thought how short their time together had been . . . not even the turn of a single season. And he wished with all his heart that he and Sweet Water could have seen the wild strawberries blossom in spring and the does lead their young, wobbly legged fawns to the river to drink. He wished they could have lain in each other’s arms and watched the sun go down on a warm summer’s night. He wanted to show her the morning mist on the Ohio, and the first flight of a young eaglet. He wanted to make a child with her . . . a child of their love . . . and see that infant nurse at her warm breast and grow strong and wise. Sweet Water and I could sit by a fire in the autumn of our lives, while shared memories of love and laughter drifted around us like bright fall leaves, he mused . . . while grandchildren tumbled around our feet.”
― The Fierce Loving
― The Fierce Loving
“Sweat streaked her face and darkened her red hair. Her free hand was scratched and bleeding where she had scraped it against a thorn tree. He caught that small hand in his and held it up to examine the wound. The tip of a broken thorn was embedded in her palm. He raised her hand to his lips and felt the splinter with the tip of his tongue. She gasped and pulled her hand back. “Be still,” he admonished. “Do you want me to cut it out with my knife?” A thorn could fester and turn flesh black with poison. Dead, she was of no use to him. She shook her head. Her hand trembled as she held it out to him. Her sky eyes were wary, the expression like that of a doe he had once seen crossing a frozen lake in winter. The ice had been rotten, and it creaked ominously with each step the deer took. Still she had continued on until she reached the far bank and safety. He wondered if firm earth waited for this female with the strange blue eyes. Eventual safety or . . . A shudder of revulsion rippled through him. War should be between men, he thought. And no matter how much contempt he felt for Simon Brandt and those he led to Indian country, he could not find it in his heart to despise this courageous woman, even if she was without honor. Gently, he bent and brushed his lips against her hand, then, when he found the thorn with his tongue, he closed his teeth on it and pulled it free. Blood welled up from her palm as he spat out the bit of wood. He scooped up a handful of snow and pressed it against the injury. She blinked. Moisture glistened in her round eyes and for a second he thought she might begin to cry. Then her eyes narrowed and the expression gleaming there hardened. Again, Talon reminded himself that she was his enemy’s wife, and that she wished him dead.”
― The Fierce Loving
― The Fierce Loving
Topics Mentioning This Author
topics | posts | views | last activity | |
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Romance Readers R...: 2011 January Monthly Reading Challenge: Suggestions Thread | 40 | 192 | Jan 24, 2011 10:28AM | |
Romance Readers R...: FlibBityFLooB's Challenges and Reading List 2011 | 21 | 88 | Nov 05, 2011 10:20PM | |
Romance Readers R...: 2011 A-Z Author Challenge | 578 | 743 | Mar 18, 2012 01:49AM | |
Happily Ever Afte...: Authors: Hard to Find Letters (F, I, O, Q, U, V, X, Y, Z) | 62 | 399 | Oct 18, 2014 02:05PM | |
What's the Name o...: SOLVED. Historical Romance: Chesapeake Bay plantation, woman has been raised on and inherited the plantation and hires an overseer and he ends up living in the house with her. not sure if it is pre- or post-revolutionary war. [s] | 4 | 51 | Jun 05, 2020 10:10AM | |
Reading with Style:
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955 | 89 | Nov 30, 2020 09:00PM |