Delores Fossen - Truly, Madly, Briefly - Truly, Madly, Briefly / Tried And True

Two brand-new stories in every volume…twice a month!

Duets Vol. #101

Popular Darlene Gardner serves up not one, but two quirky stories this month in a very special Double Duets volume. Join the fun as she focuses on past loves—the One Who Got Away and the One Who Never Left. Would you ever look for these people? Darlene always spins “a delightful tale with an engaging set-up and lovable characters,” says Romantic Times magazine.

Duets Vol. #102

Boxers or briefs? That’s what every woman wants to know about the sexy hunk in her life. Talented Delores Fossen tells us the answer and more in the hilarious Truly, Madly, Briefly. Joining Delores this month is newcomer Katie Gallagher, who hails from North Carolina, but has set her very first story in Tried and True, Kansas. Enjoy this tale of a runaway fiancée and the sexy sheriff who nearly arrests her on the way!

Be sure to pick up both Duets volumes today!

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Truly, Madly, Briefly Truly, Madly, Briefly

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Tried and True

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Epilogue

She tapped the toe of her meringue-colored heel on the tile floor. “Catalog number 233A. See-through-front bikini brief for the man with nothing to hide. Contour-hugging, barely-there backside for a rakish and yet daring display of your manly assets. Available in Exposed Ebony and In-the-Buff Buff.”

Jasper gasped. “But you said no man could ever look good in The Full Monty.”

She gave her hand an indignant little wave. “I said that before I met Aidan.”

Touché. One for the lady in pink. Flattered, taken aback and slightly confused, Aidan went and held the door open for Jasper to leave.

“This isn’t over, Bobbie,” Jasper insisted. “We’ll talk about it when I pick you up on Sunday afternoon for the picnic and watermelon thump.”

“Bobbie’s going to the picnic with me,” Aidan stated.

“I am?” she questioned.

“You are.” He nodded. After all, he’d already agreed to go. So what if it meant he had to play the Twango-Drifter game a little longer? He’d, ahem, suffer through it, especially since his cohort was none other than one Bobbie Fay Callahan!

Dear Reader,

I love a fish-out-of-water story, and I think it’s a great premise for not only comedy but a sizzling romance. For example, in Truly, Madly, Briefly I take Aidan O’Shea, a cute Boston cop who has sworn off women, and plop him in a small Texas town where the females significantly outnumber the males. Estrogen is heavy in the air, and it doesn’t get any lighter when Aidan meets Bobbie Fay Callahan, the manager of Boxers or Briefs, a factory that makes risqué men’s underwear. Bobbie’s immediately attracted to Aidan, but after being jilted twice, she’s decided she needs another man about as much as a longhorn needs panty hose.

So Aidan’s sworn off women. Bobbie’s sworn off men. That means they should have no trouble pulling off a pretend relationship meant to rid them of unwanted suitors—right? Well, this is romance, so there is a problem or two. Aidan fights the attraction between them. Bobbie fights it even harder. Neither win, but they certainly have fun losing and manage to steam up Texas along the way.

Let me know what you think of Truly, Madly, Briefly. You can e-mail me at fossent@earthlink.net. I’d love to hear from you.

Delores Fossen

HARLEQUIN DUETS

94—THE DEPUTY GETS HER MAN

To SARA, the San Antonio Romance Authors—sisters, goddesses, friends

The Twango: Catalog Item 231B. Comfort, style and illusion—all rolled into one bottom-shaping, stomach-minimizing brief. Available in Foxtrot Red, Cha Cha Gold and Midnight Mambo.

IF IT HADN’T BEEN for the missing case of size triple-X Magic Magenta thong underwear, Bobbie would have kept her distance from Deputy Aidan O’Shea.

Yes, indeed.

As it was, she had to put aside thoughts of lotteries, love and lust so she could report a possible crime. A really weird crime but a crime nonetheless.

She peered through the window to make sure the deputy was in his office. He was. And he was alone. He had his back to her, the phone squished between his shoulder and neck. It gave Bobbie an unrestricted view of the bottom-snuggling khakis that some had dubbed the item of clothing most eligible for removal. Not that anyone had personal knowledge of such removal, but it’d given the town fuel for fantasies.

When the bell on the door jangled, Deputy O’Shea glanced over his shoulder, and Bobbie eased inside the office. She motioned for him to continue with his conversation.

“Yes, I have that,” he assured the person on the other end of the line.

Ah, the Boston accent. It was pure music to her ears, which were accustomed to Texas drawls. It made her thankful that Boston had actually agreed to the six-week law-enforcement exchange program. Liffey, Texas, however, had gotten the better part of the deal since Bobbie’s cousin, Wes, was already on his way to his exchange station. That put Aidan, eye candy extraordinaire, right in front of her.

“But you’ll actually have to come to the office to press charges, Miss Determyer,” Aidan went on. He paused. “No, you’ll have to come here to do that. With Sheriff Cooper still out with the flu, I can’t leave the office unless there’s a crime in progress.” Another pause. “No. A funny feeling in the pit of your stomach doesn’t constitute a crime.”

Bobbie sank down in the chair in front of his desk and just listened. She couldn’t stop the little trickle of heat that made its way through her. It was stupid, really stupid, but just hearing his voice made her go all warm and gooey. Too bad warm and gooey were the very things she had to avoid—hot fudge sundaes excluded. Deputy Aidan O’Shea was a temporary fixture in town, and she didn’t want to mess with anything temporary.

“How can I help you?” he asked.

Pulling herself out of her daydreams, she got to her feet. “You probably don’t remember me—”

“You’re Bobbie Callahan, manager of Boxers or Briefs, the men’s underwear factory at 225 Everton Road. You’ve had four parking tickets in the past six months. One citation for jaywalking. Yesterday, you were a no-show for your dental appointment. And you have an overdue library book titled The Joys of Swamp Tours through the Everglades.”

So he did know a few things about her after all. Rather embarrassing things. Sheez. What a town of tattletales.

It probably wouldn’t do any good to mention that her cousin had issued each and every one of those parking and walking citations and that he’d done it just to aggravate her.

“I paid the tickets,” she explained. “And I’ll reschedule the dental exam and take care of that library book first thing in the morning.”

But apparently he wasn’t finished. “You’re also the winner of the Aidan-o-rama lottery.”

Oh. That.

Bobbie should have realized that he’d catch wind of something as ridiculous as the ill-contrived lottery put together by a bunch of women with obviously too much time on their hands.