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Amanda McIntyre
WILD & UNRULY
BY
AMANDA McINTYRE
Venus Press LLC
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WILD & UNRULY
The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other
means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please
purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the
electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is
appreciated.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product
of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events,
places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
WILD & UNRULY
Copyright © 2006 by Amanda McIntyre
ISBN: 1-59836-
Cover Art © 2006 by Sable Grey
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form without
permission, except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. Printed and bound in the
United States of America.
For information, you can find us on the web at
www.VenusPress.com
PO Box 584 Hillsborough NC 27278
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Amanda McIntyre
Dedication:
Inspired by the song "Cowboy Take Me Away"~
For the bit of wild & unruly in each if us.
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WILD & UNRULY
Chapter One
"Hey, Miss Lillian has a different color sweater on today, she must be crusin' for a
man. That right, Miss Lillian? The gangly teen, his clothes perfectly matched though
hanging badly on his form, strutted up to the desk, his buddies close behind. "You lookin'
for someone, then I'm your man, Miss Lillian, you could teach me what you know."
Lillian's gaze snapped towards him with surprise at his blatant proposal. The
young man, at most in his early twenties, offered her a cocky smile that bordered
somewhere between challenge and a seasoned male. He held her gaze with hooded lids,
offering her a few silent kisses as he passed by to go to the computer lab. She heard the
muffled laughter of his friends in his wake.
She'd gotten used to the whispers, and more recently the bold statements made by
adolescent boys who spent their days at the library glued to the computer screen surfing
the Internet. Granted, it was perhaps unusual to see a younger woman presiding over the
library. The last librarian retired at the age of eighty.
Lillian raised a brow of indifference toward the boy.
She realized that much of their behavior was immaturity. They were simply
restless young men with no more to do with their lives than taunt others. Yet another part
of her, one she kept hidden from public view wanted to scream that she wasn't the
pathetic, woe-be-gone, clueless spinster they pegged her for.
No, in fact, Lillian was quite the opposite.
She was careful not to let the public see her private persona, the one that poured
over the books of the old west. The stories inside them made her heart come alive,
spawning all sorts of fantasies about the bawdy women who worked and ran the bordellos
and saloons, playing host to nightly liaisons with dangerous renegades and outlaws. She
found it amusing how the very folk who shunned their lifestyle, also partook of it, either
by visit, or by benefit of the money they earned.
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