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Ragged Rainbows: The Miracle Baby Mass Market Paperback – Apr 26 2011

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Product Details

  • Mass Market Paperback: 512 pages
  • Publisher: Harlequin (April 26 2011)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 0373184891
  • ISBN-13: 978-0373184897
  • Product Dimensions: 10.7 x 3.5 x 16.8 cm
  • Shipping Weight: 249 g
  • Average Customer Review: Be the first to review this item
  • Amazon Bestsellers Rank: #818,987 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
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Product Description

About the Author

The daughter of a town marshal, Linda Lael Miller is the author of more than 100 historical and contemporary novels. Now living in Spokane, Washington, the “First Lady of the West” hit a career high when all three of her 2011 Creed Cowboy books debuted at #1 on the New York Times list. In 2007, the Romance Writers of America presented her their Lifetime Achievement Award. She personally funds her Linda Lael Miller Scholarships for Women. Visit her at

The author of more than ninety books for children and adults, Janice Kay Johnson writes about love and family - about the way generations connect and the power our earliest experiences have on us throughout life.  An eight time finalist for the Romance Writers of America RITA award, she won a RITA in 2008 for her Superromance novel Snowbound.  A former librarian, Janice raised two daughters in a small town north of Seattle, Washington.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Marvin's toupee was slightly off-center and he was wearing his standard smile, one that promised low mileage to the public in general and headaches to Shay Kendall in particular. She sat up a little straighter in her chair and looked across the wide polished plains of her employer's desk to the view outside the window behind him. Thousands of red, yellow and blue triangular flags were snapping in the wind, a merry contrast to the cloudy coastal sky.

"I'm an office manager, Marvin," Shay said with a sigh, bringing wide hazel eyes back to his friendly face, "not an actress. While I enjoy helping plan commercials, I don't see myself in front of the camera."

"I've been promising Jeannie this trip to Europe for years," Marvin said pointedly.

Richard Barrett, a representative of an advertising agency in nearby Seattle, was leaning back against a burgeoning bookshelf, his arms folded across his chest. He was tall, with nicely cut brown hair, and would have been handsome if not for the old-fashioned horn-rimmed glasses he wore. "You're Rosamond Dallas's daughter," he put in. "Besides, I know a hundred women who would give anything for a chance like this."

Shay pushed back a lock of long, layer-cut brown hair to rub one temple with her fingers, then lifted her head, giving Mr. Barrett an ironic look. "A chance like what, Richard? You make this sound as though it's a remake of The Ten Commandments instead of a thirty-second TV spot where I get a dump-truck load of sugar poured over me and say, 'We've got a sweet deal for you at Reese Motors in Skyler Beach!' Furthermore, I fail to see what my being Rosamond's daughter has to do with anything."

Marvin was sitting back in his leather chair and smiling, probably at the image of Shay being buried under a half ton of white sugar. "There would be a sizable bonus involved, of course," he reflected aloud.

He hadn't mentioned a bonus on Friday afternoon, when he'd first presented Shay with a storyboard for a commercial starring herself rather than the infamous "Low-Margin Marvin."

Shay sighed, thinking of all the new clothes her six-year-old son, Hank, would need before school started and of the retirement savings account she wanted to open but couldn't afford. "How much of a bonus?" she asked, disliking Richard Barrett for the smug look that flickered briefly in his blue eyes.

Marvin named a figure that would cover the savings and deposit payment and any amount of jeans, sneakers, jackets and T-shirts for Hank, with money left over.

"Just for one commercial? That's all I'd have to do?" Shay hated herself for wavering, but she was in no position to turn her back on so much money. While she earned a good salary working as Reese Motors's office manager and general all-around troubleshooter, it took all she could scrape together to support herself and her small son and meet the property taxes on her mother's enormous, empty house. Lord in heaven, she thought, if only someone would come along and buy that house….

Marvin and Richard exchanged indulgent looks. "If you hadn't stomped out of here on Friday," Richard said smoothly, "I would have gone on to explain that we're discussing a series of four spots, thirty seconds each. That's a lot of money for two minutes' work, Shay."

Two minutes' work. Shay was annoyed and insulted. Nobody knew better than she did that a thirty-second commercial could take days to perfect; she'd fetched enough antacid tablets for Marvin and made enough conciliatory telephone calls to his wife to know. "I'm an office manager," she repeated, somewhat piteously this time.

"And a damned good one!" Marvin thundered. "I don't know what we'd have done without you all this time!"

Shay looked back over the half dozen years since she'd come to work for Marvin Reese. She had started as a receptionist and the job had been so important to her that she'd made any number of mistakes in her attempts to do it well. Marvin had been kind and his wife, Jeannie, had been a real friend, taking Shay out to lunch on occasion, helping her to find a trustworthy babysitter for Hank, reassuring her.

In many ways, Jeannie Reese had been a mother to Shay during those harried, scary days of new independence. Rosamond—nobody had suspected that her sudden tendency toward forgetfulness and fits of temper was the beginning of Alzheimer's disease—had been living on a rancho in Mexico then, with her sixth and final husband, blissfully unconcerned with her daughter's problems.

Now, sitting there in Marvin's spacious, well-appointed office, Shay felt a sting at the memory. She had telephoned her mother right after her ex-husband, Eliott, then principal of a high school in a small town in Oregon, had absconded with the school's sizable athletic fund and left his young and decidedly pregnant wife to deal with the consequences. Rosamond had said that she'd warned Shay not to marry an older man, hadn't she, and that she would love to send money to help out but that that was impossible, since Edu-ardo had just bought a Thoroughbred racehorse and transporting the beast all the way from Kentucky to the Yucatan peninsula had cost so much.


Shay wrenched herself back to the present moment and met Marvin's fatherly gaze. She knew then that, even without the bonus check, she would have agreed to be in his commercials. He had believed in her when she had jumbled important files and spilled coffee all over his desk and made all the salesmen on the floor screaming mad by botching up their telephone messages. He had paid for the business courses she'd taken at the junior college and given her regular raises and promotions.

He was her friend.

"It's an offer I can't refuse," she said softly. It was no use asking for approval of the storyboards; Marvin's style, which had made him a virtual legend among car dealers, left no room for temperament. Three years before, at Thanksgiving, he'd dressed up as a turkey and announced to the viewing public that Reese Motors was gobbling up good trade-ins.

Marvin unearthed his telephone from underneath a mountain of paper and dialed a number. "Jeannie? Shay's going to take over the commercials for me. Dust off your passport, honey—we're going on the trip!"

Shay rose from her chair and left Marvin's office for the sanctity of her own smaller one, only to be followed by a quietly delighted Richard.

"I have three of the four storyboards ready, if you'd like to look them over," he offered.

"Why does Marvin want me to do this?" Shay complained belatedly. "Why not one of the salesmen or some actor? Your agency has access to dozens of people.. "

Richard grinned. "You know that Marvin believes in the personal touch, Shay. That's what's made him so successful. You should be proud; he must regard you as practically a member of his family."

There was some truth in Richard's words—Jeannie and Marvin had no children of their own, and they had included her and Hank in many of their holiday celebrations and summer camping trips over the past six years. What would she have done without the Reeses?

She eyed the stacks of paperwork teetering in her in-basket and drew a deep breath. "I have a lot to do, Richard. If you'll excuse me—"

The intercom buzzed and Shay picked up her telephone receiver. "Yes, Ivy? What is it?"

Ivy Prescott's voice came over the line. "Shay, that new salesman Mike hired last Tuesday is…well, he's doing something very weird."

Shay closed her eyes tightly, opened them again. With one hand, she opened the top drawer of her desk and rummaged for a bottle of aspirin, and failed to find it. "What, exactly, is he doing?"

"He's standing in the front seat of that '65 Corvette we got in last month, making a speech."


"It's a convertible," Ivy broke in helpfully.

Shay made note of the fact that Richard was still loitering inside her office door and her irritation redoubled. "Good Lord. Where is Mike? He's the floor manager and this is his problem!"

"He's out sick today," Ivy answered, and there was a note of panic in her normally bright voice. "Shay, what do I do? I don't think we should bother Mr. Reese with this, his heart, you know. Oh, I wish Todd were here!"

"I'll handle it," Shay said shortly, hanging up the receiver and striding out of the office, with Richard right behind her. As she passed Ivy's desk, she gave the young receptionist a look that, judging by the heightened color in her face, conveyed what Shay thought of the idea of hiding behind Todd Simmons, Ivy's fiance, just because he was a man.

Shay was wearing slacks and a blue cotton blouse that day, and her heels made a staccato sound on the metal steps leading down into the showrooms. She smiled faintly at the customers browsing among glistening new cars as she crossed the display floor and stepped out onto the lot. Sure enough, there was a crowd gathered around the recently acquired Corvette.

She pushed her way between two of the newer salesmen, drew a deep breath and addressed the wild-eyed young man standing in the driver's seat of the sports car. "Get down from there immediately," she said in a clear voice, having no idea in the world what she would do if he refused.

Remarkably, the orator ceased his discourse and got out of the car to stand facing Shay. He was red with conviction and at least one coffee-break cocktail, and there was a blue stain on the pocket of his short-sleeved white shirt where his pen had leaked. "I was only—" he began.

Shay cut him off swiftly. "My office. Now."

The errant salesman followed along behind Shay as she walked back into the building, through the showroom and up the stairs. Once they were inside her office, he became petulant and not a little rebellious. "No woman orders me around," he muttered. Shay sat down in her chair, folded her hands in her lap so that—she glanced subtly at his name tag—Ray Metcalf wouldn't see that they were trembling just a little. "This woman, Mr. Metcalf, is ordering you out, not around. If you have any commissions coming, they will be mailed to you."

"You're firing me?" Metcalf looked stunned. He was young and uncertain of himself and it was obvious, of course, that he had a problem. Did he have a family to support?

"Yes," Shay answered firmly.

"You can't do that!"

"I can and I have. Good day, Mr. Metcalf, and good luck."

Metcalf flushed and, for a moment, the look in his eyes was ominous. Shay was a little scared, but she refused to be intimidated, meeting the man's contemptuous glare with a level gaze of her own. He turned and left the office, slamming the door behind him, and Shay let out a long breath in relief. When Ivy bounced in, moments later, she was going over sales figures for the month before on her computer.

Despite the difference in their ages—Ivy was only twenty while Shay was nine years older—the two women were good friends. Ivy was going to marry Todd Simmons, an up-and-coming young real-estate broker, at Christmas, and Shay would be her maid of honor.

"Todd's taking me out to lunch," Ivy said, and her chin-length blond hair glistened even in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the office. "You're welcome to come along if you'd like."

"How romantic," Shay replied, with a wry twist of her lips, and went on working. "Just the three of us."

Ivy persisted. "Actually, there wouldn't be three of us. There's someone I want you to meet."

Shay laid down her pen and gave her friend a look. "Are you matchmaking again? Ivy, I've told you time and time again—"

"But this man is different."

Shay pretended to assess Ivy's dress size, which, because she was so tiny, would be petite. "I wonder if Marvin still has that turkey suit at home. With a few alterations, it might fit you. Why didn't I think of this before?" She paused for effect. "I could pull rank on you. How would you like to appear in four television commercials?"

Ivy rolled her blue-green eyes and backed out of the office, closing the door on a number of very interesting possibilities. Shay smiled to herself and went back to work.

The house was a sprawling Tudor mansion perched on a cliff overlooking the Pacific, and it was too damned big for one single, solitary man.

The dining room was formal, lit by two shimmering crystal chandeliers, and there were French doors opening onto a garden filled with pink, white, scarlet and lavender rhododendrons. The walls of the massive library were lined with handcrafted shelves and the fireplaces on the first floor were all large enough for a man to stand upright inside. The master bedroom boasted a checkerboard of tinted and clear skylights, its own hot tub lined with exquisitely painted tiles and a broad terrace. Yes, the place was definitely too big and too fancy.

"I'll take it," Mitch Prescott said, leaning against the redwood railing of the upstairs terrace. The salt breeze rippled gently through his dark blond hair and the sound of the incoming tide, far below, was a soothing song.

Todd Simmons, soon to be Mitch's brother-in-law, looked pleased, as well he might, considering the commission his fledgling real-estate firm would collect on the sale. Mitch noticed that Todd's hand trembled a little as he extended it to seal the agreement.

Inwardly, Mitch was wondering what had possessed him to meet the outrageous asking price on this monster of a house within fifteen minutes of walking through the front door. He decided that he'd done it for Ivy, his half sister. Since she was going to marry Simmons, the sale would benefit her, too.

"When can I move in?" Mitch asked, resting against the railing again and gazing far out to sea. His hotel room was comfortable, but he had spent too much of his life in places like it; he wanted to live in a real house.

"Now, if you'd like," Simmons answered promptly. He seemed to vibrate with suppressed excitement, as though he'd like to jump up in the air and kick his heels together. "In this case, the closing will be little more than a formality. I don't mind telling you that Rosamond Dallas's daughter is anxious to unload the place."

The famous name dropped on Mitch's weary mind with all the grace of a boxcar tumbling into a ravine. "I thought Miss Dallas was dead," he ventured.

A sad expression moved in Todd's eyes as he shook his head and drew a package of gum from the pocket of his blue sports jacket. He was good-looking, with dark hair and a solid build; he and Ivy would have beautiful children.

Customer Reviews

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Most Helpful Customer Reviews on (beta) 4.4 out of 5 stars 27 reviews
4 of 4 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars very good July 12 2011
By J. Thompson - Published on
Format: Mass Market Paperback
This is one LLM book I really enjoyed. Didn't realize until later that it is one of her older ones. Usually I find her books to be inconsistant in quality, just my opinion of course. But it was fun to have the male lead actually care about the female lead from the beginning, and try to help her. Shay had her issues and for good reasons. But he showed more patience and understanding than most men would, in my experience, so it was about more than sex. Linda Lael Miller tends to get carried away with the sex in her books and the relationship never developes the depth that this book does. Really enjoyed it, and the second story in this book introduced me to an author I haven't read yet. So it was a bonus.
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars LLMiller one of the best on my Kindle... Oct. 7 2013
By C.snyder - Published on
Format: Kindle Edition Verified Purchase
LLMiller is one of my very favorite authors..sadly she is pricing out of my retirement budget along with Susan Wiggs, and Susan Mallory..these ladies all impress me with their story telling, just can not afford any longer..
the cost of living in today's world is so sad for us from the 50's and beyond..hopefully in 2014 and 2016 change, REAL HONEST CHANGE will come to the America I was raised in.
will watch for my Kindle which was a gift from my very favorite son in law...he is a gem.
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful
2.0 out of 5 stars Ragged rainbows/linda lael miller Nov. 27 2014
By Kindle Customer - Published on
Format: Kindle Edition Verified Purchase
This was a disappointment, not up to the interest with which this author usually writes. Nothing of interest and very predictable. I did like the ending though.
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful
2.0 out of 5 stars Not what I Expected May 30 2014
By jansday - Published on
Format: Kindle Edition Verified Purchase
Wasn't exactly what I expected. Most of her books are excellent. This one did not measure up to the books I have read.
Just my humble opinion.
5.0 out of 5 stars This was one of LLM's better books. I loved the books she wrote a ... Sept. 21 2014
By d - Published on
Format: Kindle Edition
This was one of LLM's better books. I loved the books she wrote a few years ago. They usually had good plots, in depth character development and a little humor. Her more recent books have not been as enjoyable for me. The plots have been thin at best, the characters aren't fully developed and there is way too much detailed sex. I hate buy a book then have to skip half the book. I hope LLM goes back to her early writing style. I also agree with the lady who mentioned the price makes it difficult for people on limited incomes - especially sin there is no cost for paper and ink.

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