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The Texas Brands #1-3
The Texas Brand
This family was born, bred-and bound to be wed-in Texas!
He was a sheriff who knew he was nobody's daddy. But when a newborn landed on his doorstep, all roads lead to the mysterious woman who quickly followed suit, claiming to be the guardian of The Littlest Cowboy.
No more Little Miss Nice Girl, she vowed. But to change her image, The Baddest Virgin in Texas had to convince not only herself, but the handsomest cowboy she had targeted as "the one."
He was the Baddest Brand, a true Badlands Bad Boy, the outsider, who was shocked to find that he actually needed someone! And that someone was a woman who resisted him at every turn.
He was a sheriff who knew he was nobody's daddy. But when a newborn landed on his doorstep, all roads lead to the mysterious woman who quickly followed suit, claiming to be the guardian of The Littlest Cowboy.
No more Little Miss Nice Girl, she vowed. But to change her image, The Baddest Virgin in Texas had to convince not only herself, but the handsomest cowboy she had targeted as "the one."
He was the Baddest Brand, a true Badlands Bad Boy, the outsider, who was shocked to find that he actually needed someone! And that someone was a woman who resisted him at every turn.
- GenresRomance
768 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published September 1, 2002
2 people are currently reading
134 people want to read
About the author
Maggie Shayne
258 books2,575 followersI live in the teeny, tiny town of Taylor, NY, (Alliteration Alert!) though my mailing address is Cincinnatus, my telephone exchange is Truxton and I pay taxes and vote in Cuyler. All of these are at least in the same rural county in the southern hills of New York State; Cortland County. There are more cattle than people here. The nearest “big” cities are Syracuse and Binghamton and they are an hour away, in different directions, and not really all that big by most standards, though they both seem humongous to me. I look out my window to see rolling, green, thickly forested hills, wildflower laden meadows and wide open blue, blue skies. My road is barely paved. The nearest neighboring place is a 700 acre dairy farm.
My house is a big, century old farmhouse. I moved in here after my divorce in 2006. Just a little over a year later, the house, which I had named, SERENITY, burned. It was 99% gutted, and I lost my two dogs, Sally, an 11-year-old great Dane, and Wrinkles, my 14-year-old, blind bulldog. This was the culmination of my Dark Night of the soul, which had seemed to hit me all at once in 2006-2007. My mother died that year, after a 14 month battle with pancreatic cancer. She was only 60. The youngest of my five daughters had left home that same year, and while that’s not a tragedy at all, it felt like one to me. Then came the divorce. And finally there was the fire--it seemed my darkest night wasn’t quite finished with me after all. I had lost almost everything before that point, and as I poked through the wet ashes and soot the next day, I realized that I had now been stripped all the way to the bone.
No better time to start over. (And no, I didn’t come to that realization that day--there were a few days of wallowing in pity first, particularly the day after the fire, when I hit a deer and smashed up my car, which I was practically living in!)
That’s when I started to laugh. Just sat on the side of the road as the deer bounded, uninjured and carefree, out of sight, and laughed. It was just too ridiculous at that point, to do anything else!
And from there, I picked myself up, and brushed myself off, and said, okay, there’s only one way to go from here. Forward. And that’s what I did. There I was at the age of harrurmphemmph, living in my one, mostly undamaged remaining room, with a dorm-sized mini-fridge, a futon, a TV, my cat (nine lives!) and a laptop. And not much else. (Though thank goodness the room that survived the fire, was a room that had its own attached bathroom!)
Since then I have rebuilt my beloved home, which really has become my haven, my “Serenity.” I share it now with my fiancé, Lance, and we have accumulated quite the little family together. “Little” being a relative term. We have a pair of English Mastiffs, Dozer and Daisy, who weigh 203 pounds and 208 pounds respectively, and a little pudgy English Bulldog named Niblet, who is bigger than both of them, inside her mind. We also have the aforementioned cat, Glorificus (“Glory” for short,) who adores her canine pups and keeps them firmly in line. And we've acquired a pair of stray cats as well, a mother and son, Luna (Lulu for short) and Butters aka Buddy. Lulu showed up pregnant during a lunar eclipse, had a litter, and vanished again. We found homes for all the kittens except one. Butters. We got him fixed and kept him. A few months later, Lulu returned, again expecting. This litter was born on the "Monster Moon." Again, all the kittens were spayed and neutered and placed in homes, and this time we got Lulu to the vet in time to spay her before the cycle could repeat.
Glory is not amused.
She has a story of her own, my old Glory cat, having been with me before the Dark Times descended, she went through it all with me, moved with me, survived the fire, and remains with me still. She's tolerating the newcomers. Barely.
My partner is an artist, a mechanic, a welder and an inventor, and the rumors are true, he is much younger than I
My house is a big, century old farmhouse. I moved in here after my divorce in 2006. Just a little over a year later, the house, which I had named, SERENITY, burned. It was 99% gutted, and I lost my two dogs, Sally, an 11-year-old great Dane, and Wrinkles, my 14-year-old, blind bulldog. This was the culmination of my Dark Night of the soul, which had seemed to hit me all at once in 2006-2007. My mother died that year, after a 14 month battle with pancreatic cancer. She was only 60. The youngest of my five daughters had left home that same year, and while that’s not a tragedy at all, it felt like one to me. Then came the divorce. And finally there was the fire--it seemed my darkest night wasn’t quite finished with me after all. I had lost almost everything before that point, and as I poked through the wet ashes and soot the next day, I realized that I had now been stripped all the way to the bone.
No better time to start over. (And no, I didn’t come to that realization that day--there were a few days of wallowing in pity first, particularly the day after the fire, when I hit a deer and smashed up my car, which I was practically living in!)
That’s when I started to laugh. Just sat on the side of the road as the deer bounded, uninjured and carefree, out of sight, and laughed. It was just too ridiculous at that point, to do anything else!
And from there, I picked myself up, and brushed myself off, and said, okay, there’s only one way to go from here. Forward. And that’s what I did. There I was at the age of harrurmphemmph, living in my one, mostly undamaged remaining room, with a dorm-sized mini-fridge, a futon, a TV, my cat (nine lives!) and a laptop. And not much else. (Though thank goodness the room that survived the fire, was a room that had its own attached bathroom!)
Since then I have rebuilt my beloved home, which really has become my haven, my “Serenity.” I share it now with my fiancé, Lance, and we have accumulated quite the little family together. “Little” being a relative term. We have a pair of English Mastiffs, Dozer and Daisy, who weigh 203 pounds and 208 pounds respectively, and a little pudgy English Bulldog named Niblet, who is bigger than both of them, inside her mind. We also have the aforementioned cat, Glorificus (“Glory” for short,) who adores her canine pups and keeps them firmly in line. And we've acquired a pair of stray cats as well, a mother and son, Luna (Lulu for short) and Butters aka Buddy. Lulu showed up pregnant during a lunar eclipse, had a litter, and vanished again. We found homes for all the kittens except one. Butters. We got him fixed and kept him. A few months later, Lulu returned, again expecting. This litter was born on the "Monster Moon." Again, all the kittens were spayed and neutered and placed in homes, and this time we got Lulu to the vet in time to spay her before the cycle could repeat.
Glory is not amused.
She has a story of her own, my old Glory cat, having been with me before the Dark Times descended, she went through it all with me, moved with me, survived the fire, and remains with me still. She's tolerating the newcomers. Barely.
My partner is an artist, a mechanic, a welder and an inventor, and the rumors are true, he is much younger than I
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
June 2, 2019
At the beginning of this book, Maggie Shayne wrote of her reluctance to write a western themed book. I'm so very glad she was convinced otherwise. This book gives you the first three stories of the Texas Brand family. Garrett, Jessie and Wes. I was hooked with the first story, and each one after just got better.
If you want to meet some awesome characters, be captivated by their antics and strength of family bond, and ride with them as they face their own crisis and challenges, then this is the series for you. I'm off to find the rest of the stories. This is a keeper. Worthy of reading more than once.
If you want to meet some awesome characters, be captivated by their antics and strength of family bond, and ride with them as they face their own crisis and challenges, then this is the series for you. I'm off to find the rest of the stories. This is a keeper. Worthy of reading more than once.
January 5, 2022
I enjoyed the first 3 stories of the Brands. These stories start at the Brand ranch and includes all 5 of the Brand siblings. Even though I thought I had the ending figured out, a twist occurs.
September 20, 2024
A couple scenes to skip (one per book). Otherwise a solid storyline and and easy, interesting, fun, engaging read.
May 2, 2011
I really like the Brand family. They are down to earth people with interesting lives. This book introduces us to the first three (a sister and two brothers) of the family living on the family ranch in Texas. The first brother, Garrett, finds himself with a baby that's supposed to be his but it isn't true, so who's baby is it and why. The baby's true aunt shows up righteously accusing and then the fun begins. The sister, Jessica, finds herself interested in a man involved with Garrett's baby problem; but which side is he really on good or bad. Once that problem is resolved; it becomes does he really want to be interested in Jessica or is he just in lust. Next there's Wes, who's actually a half brother having a Native American mother who had become with the Brand father not knowing he was a married man. Wes is coming to terms with his heritage having been raised by the Brands with not much interaction with his Native American relatives. Now he's supposed to help an old shaman save some land that the reservation wants to sell for the money it can make them. The shaman wants the land saved as it is sacred to him. And there's a twist to that story too. These stories were interesting enough to make me want to find more of the stories written by the author about the Texas Brands.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews