Legacies and Cowboys with Sinclair Jayne on Release Day!

“Some legacies are inherited. Others are forged…”

Welcome to the Telfords of Montana.
Where rugged cowboys, family ties, and hard-won love are always worth the ride.

Hey Tuligans,

It’s always exciting for me to talk about a new book release—probably similar to a mom
talking about her kid who has a certain skill or interest or an imagined superpower. The
Cowboy’s One-Year Bride is book four in a Montana ranching family series—the
Telfords of Montana.

I created the legacy ranching family at least eight or nine years ago with the idea that
eventually I’d write a series and voila! I remember being at party when I was still quite
young and recently married, talking to a fabulously interesting and funny woman with an
amazing house on a hilltop with a spectacular view of Seattle. We were talking about life
and dreams, and I said that I wanted to write romances—up until then I’d published only
as a journalist and a poet. She sat there with a faint smile and a glass of wine and a
dreamy, though earnest expression. “You need to relax,” she said “so you can enjoy the
ride. It all comes. Not necessarily when you want it to, but it does.”

I didn’t understand her then. Or accept her worldview. It seemed so passive. Where was
the scheming and drive? But now, as I look back at my life and the things I wanted that
seemed impossible sometimes did come. Or my goals changed. But with the Telford
Family, I wanted an honorable, deep-seated cowboy-code patriarch who was committed
to his family and the land. And then to shake it up, I gave him a brother, dark where he was light. Corner-cutting where he dug in. Selfish where he was giving. And then I created the next generation—scattered them but brought them home.

Back to the land. Back to family.

I have never written a mail-order bride romance before. I considered it a creative
challenge, and it was fun to brainstorm, finagle, and create characters and a premise
that would feel authentic to them and the situation. Easy maybe with a wildly wealthy
man. But of course, my heroine isn’t motivated by money. And she’s fiercely
independent. He had to convince her another way…

Excerpt

Telford and Ayana walked side by side up the stairs, and he had a strange impulse to take her hand.

Don’t rush her.

So unlike him to push or stake a claim.

The lobby of the Graff Hotel surprised him with its elegance combined with a touch of historic rusticity. He noted a bar that looked Irish-themed—strange, but maybe not. He definitely needed to lean into his research on Montana, Marietta, and the Telfords before he made any sort of approach.

“Welcome to the Graff. You must be here for the wedding.”
He blinked at the check-in clerk. Was she psychic? But he hadn’t thought they’d have a
wedding beyond the court date.

“Yes, we are,” Ayana lied smoothly. “We’re very excited. Your town is so cute. First time
here.” She smiled like the sun. “We thought we’d arrive early and explore your town. I already saw a chocolate shop and read that Sage’s is famous for her homemade hot chocolate, so that’s on my list.”

“She is and so much more. You must be a relation, Mr. Crow. You’re the spitting image of
the groom.”

Telford felt his blood drain from his head. Wedding. Groom. Spitting image. It was like
being shoved though a curtain on stage during the middle of a play. Maybe that damn cowboy hadn’t been bluffing.

“You get that all the time, don’t you, baby.” Ayana, slid her arm through his and gazed up at
his frozen stoniness like he was the center of the universe. Her eyes shone with admiration and something that looked—if he didn’t know better—like affection. “It’s lovely to know that there are still no secrets in a small town. Genes right? Tricky little buggers. Can sneakily skip a generation or jump out and shout ‘boo’ when you least expect.”

The front desk clerk—Joseph, Telford saw on his nametag—laughed.

“I know. I look more like my Uncle Ted than my dad, and boy did I get teased growing up.”

“Right?” Ayana smiled at the young man, and he blinked a little as if blinded and then
quickly ran through the check-in routine—amenities, services, spa and gym options, Wi-Fi, local restaurants. The romance package—chilling champagne, flowers, and a tray of snacks—were already in the room. The luggage had already been sent up.

Telford felt like he was still made of wood while they opted to take the stairs rather than the elevator.

“Romance package,” she hummed under her breath. “Good one.”

“I felt I should make an effort,” he said softly, though his lips and tongue still didn’t feel like
they belonged to him. So much for hiding. “And you’re clearly really good at pretending and improv.”

She stopped at the first landing and faced him.
“I better be. You’re paying to have the best. I told you I’m a hard worker.”
He didn’t like being reminded that he was paying her to pretend. Dumb. He’d never shirked
reality before. And why else would she be here but to do a job?

And in front of the whole lobby with the polished wide-planked pine floors, gleaming
stained-glass windows, polished wood columns, and sitting area where people and families lounged, playing board games, reading, or chatting over a variety of drinks while Telford and Ayana looked over it all, she stood on tiptoes, speared her fingers through his hair and kissed him.

About the Author

Sinclair Sawhney has been the senior developmental editor for romance for Tule Publishing for over thirteen years. Writing as Sinclair Jayne, she’s published over thirty-five contemporary romances with Tule Publishing. An avid romance reader since sixth grade, she’s savoring her dream writing career. Married with two adult children, she and her husband own Roshni Vineyard in Oregon’s Willamette Valley where she hosts weekend wine tastings while attempting to write one more sentence or squeeze in another scene between pours of Pinot Noir.