From Publishers Weekly
Readers charmed by Paisley's fanciful Basket of Wishes will find the same sparkling writing and funny characterization in her latest historical set in Mexico's Sierra Madre mountains. Sawyer Donovan is suffering from amnesia when he stumbles across the hideout of Zafiro Maria Quintana. Zafiro inherited many things from her father, but chief among them was guardianship of his multifarious band of geriatric outlaws: deaf 73-year-old Lorenzo; moonshine-guzzling Maclovio; and Pedro, a Saint Peter the Apostle wannabe. Then there are the hangers-on like Azcuar, an ex-prostitute who, at 82, believes she is still in her prime; 71-year-old Tia, who is convinced that Sawyer is her long-lost little boy; a bed-hogging chicken; a pet cougar; and Zafiro herself, who constantly fractures idioms by saying things like, "my ears are telling lies" when she means, "I can't believe my ears." The love story between Sawyer and Zafiro is a good conventional yarn, but it is the charming and eccentric Quintana gang that takes it to a higher level.
Copyright 1996 Reed Business Information, Inc.
Copyright 1996 Reed Business Information, Inc.
Book Description
In a hidden canyon of the Sierra Madres in Mexico, Zafiro Talavera is the caretaker of her grandfather's once-fearsome band of outlaws, and the task is not easy. She is constantly watching out for bounty hunters and other desperados searching for the loot her grandfather has hidden away. Equally daunting is coping with the eccentricities of the decrepit Talavera Gang. Zafiro's most fervent dream is of living in a normal town with a normal family. Then into her carefully guarded "fortress" comes a mysterious, wounded man known only as Sawyer. Has he come to steal her gold or her heart?
She enlists Sawyer to teach her men to be the outlaws they once were so they can defend themselves against the evil bandit sworn to steal Zafiro away from them. Sawyer resists the task of teaching a drunk, a deafman, and a codger who believes himself to be St. Peter how to ride and shoot. But when the threat finally comes, Sawyer and the men rally, defeat the enemy and save Zafiro.
Paisley is a master comedienne. This delightful story has characters that will make you laugh out loud and a love story that will give you goosebumbs.
She enlists Sawyer to teach her men to be the outlaws they once were so they can defend themselves against the evil bandit sworn to steal Zafiro away from them. Sawyer resists the task of teaching a drunk, a deafman, and a codger who believes himself to be St. Peter how to ride and shoot. But when the threat finally comes, Sawyer and the men rally, defeat the enemy and save Zafiro.
Paisley is a master comedienne. This delightful story has characters that will make you laugh out loud and a love story that will give you goosebumbs.
From the Publisher
In a hidden canyon of the Sierra Madres in Mexico, Zafiro Talavera is the caretaker of her grandfather's once-fearsome band of outlaws, and the task is not easy. She is constantly watching out for bounty hunters and other desperados searching for the loot her grandfather has hidden away. Equally daunting is coping with the eccentricities of the decrepit Talavera Gang. Zafiro's most fervent dream is of living in a normal town with a normal family. Then into her carefully guarded "fortress" comes a mysterious, wounded man known only as Sawyer. Has he come to steal her gold or her heart?
She enlists Sawyer to teach her men to be the outlaws they once were so they can defend themselves against the evil bandit sworn to steal Zafiro away from them. Sawyer resists the task of teaching a drunk, a deafman, and a codger who believes himself to be St. Peter how to ride and shoot. But when the threat finally comes, Sawyer and the men rally, defeat the enemy and save Zafiro.
Paisley is a master comedienne. This delightful story has characters that will make you laugh out loud and a love story that will give you goosebumbs. Copyright 1996 by Rebecca Boado Rosas.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
The girl's scream echoed through the hills, sounding like a thousand women being tortured by a slew of savages. Sawyer clamped his hand over her mouth, still holding her tightly with his other arm, still wondering what she'd been doing sneaking around in the convent.
Something hard pressed into his wrist, something that seemed to be attached to the girl's tattered blouse. Glancing down, he saw an extraordinarily large sapphire that hung from a solid gold chain.
A magnificent jewel and a girl dressed in rags?
Sawyer's suspicions deepened. She'd fled the convent like a thief who'd been caught, he recalled. Indeed, surprise and terror had nearly dropped her to her knees when she'd run into him.
"Stop that screaming," he hissed into her ear, "and tell me what you were doing in the convent. Did you steal that sapphire from the sisters?"
She bit into his palm. His own shout mingled with her muffled cries. "Dammit, woman!" Yanking his hand away from her mouth, he continued the difficult task of holding on to her. Remarkably agile and strong, her body twisted in his arms like a dozen angry snakes.
He turned her so that she faced him and winced when she began to slap at his face. Quickly, he caught her wrists and frowned down at her...
And went totally rigid. He hadn't seen her clearly in the convent.
He did now.
Her beauty was almost unreal. For one long moment he stood there mesmerized by the snapping fire in her clear blue eyes, the blush of fury on her high cheekbones, the taut pout on her full, pink lips, and the swift rise and fall of her breasts.
He knew nothing but his name; he had no idea who he was, where he was from, or what he'd done in his lifetime. But one thing he did know: the girl whg stood before him now, glaring at him with all the fear and hatred he imagined existed in the world, was the most incredibly gorgeous female he'd ever seen.
Only slightly aware of his own actions, he let go of her wrist and reached out to touch her hair.
And Zafiro seized that moment. With all the power her body held, she jerked her other arm from his hold, spun on her heel, and tore up the side of the hill. She fell twice, but made steady progress. Soon the entrance to La Escondida was within her sight.
So was Mariposa. Blending in with her untamed surroundings, the tawny cat crouched amidst a thick tangle of brush, her gold eyes narrowing, her long, sleek tail swishing through the dusty air.
Zafiro climbed past the animal and slipped quickly and easily through the passage that was concealed by boulders, scrub, and a smattering of scraggly trees. She could hear Sawyer behind her, but knew his climb had been more difficult than hers. Not only did she know the exact path to take on the side of the hill, but her ascent had created an obstacle course of sliding rocks and sticks for him to maneuver around.
Hidden by the boulders and brush, she pushed at the wide, heavy wooden doors that led into the hideaway, every part of her relieved to hear the familiar squeaks as the portals swung slowly open.
But just as the squeaking sounds faded away and she crawled inside the rocky walls of La Escondida, another noise filled the mountain air. And then another and another.
A low growl. A gruesome snarl.
A terrible shout.
Sawyer had just met Mariposa.
Something hard pressed into his wrist, something that seemed to be attached to the girl's tattered blouse. Glancing down, he saw an extraordinarily large sapphire that hung from a solid gold chain.
A magnificent jewel and a girl dressed in rags?
Sawyer's suspicions deepened. She'd fled the convent like a thief who'd been caught, he recalled. Indeed, surprise and terror had nearly dropped her to her knees when she'd run into him.
"Stop that screaming," he hissed into her ear, "and tell me what you were doing in the convent. Did you steal that sapphire from the sisters?"
She bit into his palm. His own shout mingled with her muffled cries. "Dammit, woman!" Yanking his hand away from her mouth, he continued the difficult task of holding on to her. Remarkably agile and strong, her body twisted in his arms like a dozen angry snakes.
He turned her so that she faced him and winced when she began to slap at his face. Quickly, he caught her wrists and frowned down at her...
And went totally rigid. He hadn't seen her clearly in the convent.
He did now.
Her beauty was almost unreal. For one long moment he stood there mesmerized by the snapping fire in her clear blue eyes, the blush of fury on her high cheekbones, the taut pout on her full, pink lips, and the swift rise and fall of her breasts.
He knew nothing but his name; he had no idea who he was, where he was from, or what he'd done in his lifetime. But one thing he did know: the girl whg stood before him now, glaring at him with all the fear and hatred he imagined existed in the world, was the most incredibly gorgeous female he'd ever seen.
Only slightly aware of his own actions, he let go of her wrist and reached out to touch her hair.
And Zafiro seized that moment. With all the power her body held, she jerked her other arm from his hold, spun on her heel, and tore up the side of the hill. She fell twice, but made steady progress. Soon the entrance to La Escondida was within her sight.
So was Mariposa. Blending in with her untamed surroundings, the tawny cat crouched amidst a thick tangle of brush, her gold eyes narrowing, her long, sleek tail swishing through the dusty air.
Zafiro climbed past the animal and slipped quickly and easily through the passage that was concealed by boulders, scrub, and a smattering of scraggly trees. She could hear Sawyer behind her, but knew his climb had been more difficult than hers. Not only did she know the exact path to take on the side of the hill, but her ascent had created an obstacle course of sliding rocks and sticks for him to maneuver around.
Hidden by the boulders and brush, she pushed at the wide, heavy wooden doors that led into the hideaway, every part of her relieved to hear the familiar squeaks as the portals swung slowly open.
But just as the squeaking sounds faded away and she crawled inside the rocky walls of La Escondida, another noise filled the mountain air. And then another and another.
A low growl. A gruesome snarl.
A terrible shout.
Sawyer had just met Mariposa.
