Click on image to enlarge.

	Regular				Club
You Pay:	$6.50				$5.53

eBook Category: Romance/Historical Fiction
eBook Description: In June of 1918, a drought grips Marshall's Bayou by the throat. But no matter how bad things get, Alberta Strickler will never leave her home in southwest Louisiana again. More importantly, she'll never let a man rule her life the way her father has. Isaac Broussard, an easy-going Frenchman, is visiting Marshall's Bayou when he meets Alberta. He knows she's the woman for him. Trouble is, he can't seem to get her to see his way of thinking. With the social prejudices of the marsh and Alberta's father working against them, can Isaac convince her that they belong together?

eBook Publisher: Echelon Press, Published: 2004, 2004
Fictionwise Release Date: November 2005

5 Reader Ratings:

Great	Good	OK	Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [218 KB] , ePub (EPUB) [212 KB] , Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [184 KB] , Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [1.4 MB] , Palm Doc (PDB) [202 KB] , Microsoft Reader (LIT) [175 KB] , Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [223 KB] , hiebook (KML) [544 KB] , Sony Reader (LRF) [287 KB] , iSilo (PDB) [165 KB] , Mobipocket (PRC) [209 KB] , OEBFF Format (IMP) [269 KB]
Words: 62302
Reading time: 178-249 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Portable Document Format (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
ISBN: 159080175X

"Sarah Storme doesn't write about the bayou, she transports you there so you can experience it for yourself. Get yourself a tall, cool glass of lemonade, sit back, and enjoy Just Kiss Me. You'll revel in this tale of love in the days-gone-by."--Gabriella Anderson, author of Ever Yours and Yours Always

"Stop daydreaming and get back to work," Alberta told her brother.

James frowned at her as he raised his hat, pushed back his tangled mass of blond hair, and yanked the hat brim down to his eyes.

The air, nearly too thick to breathe, hung around them. Alberta dunked a bucket into the oak-slat water barrel and hoisted it out. With water sloshing onto her skirt, she carefully crossed the yard to where her mother stood fanning her face with one hand.

"Pour that one evenly on the peas and peppers. We may be able to get something from them yet." The older woman turned and pressed her palms to her lower back as she squinted against the rising sun. "It's the fruit and pecan trees I'm worried about. That fig looks downright puny."

Carefully, Alberta poured water around each plant. The hard, black dirt hesitated dramatically before letting moisture in, and she could almost hear the plants sigh. Releasing the last drop, she frowned and surveyed the garden.

Never, in her twenty years, could she remember seeing anything like this. Half the garden had been sacrificed so that the rest might live, but the remaining plants looked pathetic-tomatoes the size of radishes and okra less than two inches long. Beyond the edge of the yard, the marsh receded inches a day, leaving behind cracked, baked ground and dry jagged stalks of saw grass. If it didn't rain soon, most of the people in Marshall's Bayou would be in desperate shape.

Alberta wiped perspiration from her upper lip with the back of her hand as she returned to the water barrel. An annoying bead of moisture trickled down her backbone.

James passed her, carrying two buckets. "You're not my mother," he said quietly.

"Fortunately for you," Alberta admonished half-heartedly.

She refilled her bucket and followed her fifteen-year-old brother's trail to the first fig tree. Twenty yards away, Lydia swung up onto the lowest branch of a pecan tree. With her bare, dirty feet and scraped knees, she looked like a wild animal. Purely disgraceful. If Alberta had any say in the matter, she would never have allowed such behavior. Lydia's skirt bore the markings of tree bark, and she'd torn one sleeve during her climb. At eleven years old she should be acting like a girl, not a monkey. Deciding to ignore the child, Alberta emptied another bucket.

Sounds of an approaching buggy drew the attention of the group. James needed little incentive to abandon his duties and Lydia jumped from the tree, hitting the ground with a thud.

"Child, I declare, you're going to break a leg doing that." Alberta's mother chastised the youngest of her brood, but made little effort to hide a loving smile.

Determined to beat everyone to the visitors, Lydia tossed her sandy-blond curls, ignoring the scolding as she ran toward the commotion. Alberta walked alongside her mother.

"Will," her mother exclaimed, arms outstretched.

"Mama!" Alberta's older brother leapt from the buggy and hugged his mother, lifting the stately woman from the ground. After half a twirl, he released her and continued around the buggy to assist his wife.

No one had seen Will or Emmie for nearly a week, and Alberta said a silent prayer of thanks for their safety in the midst of the drought. She hugged her sister-in-law, and then held the woman's shoulders. Younger than Will by eight years, Alberta and Emmie were the same age, allowing her to feel closer to Emmie than she did to her siblings, and that bond fed her concern for the woman's sickly appearance.

"You look pale," Alberta said. "Are you ill?"

Emmie smiled. "It's the heat, Sister. I'm fine."

Locking her arm through Emmie's, Alberta led the smaller woman to a rocking chair on the porch. "I'll pour some lemonade."

Hesitant to miss a moment of the visit, Alberta hurried into the house. As she removed glasses from the cupboard and filled them, she listened to conversation from the porch.

"We lost three cows and a steer yesterday," Will said, his voice tinged with desperation.

"That makes a dozen head so far," Alberta's mother answered.

"Yes, ma'am. The grass is dead, and there's almost nothing left to drink. The main ditch is just a mud puddle."

The woman sighed loudly enough for Alberta to hear. "I wish your father would hurry home. What do you suppose we should do?"

"I want to try moving the herd to the marsh. One of the boys is down there right now hooking up the windmill. At least they'll have good water. And it's so dry, the mosquitoes aren't too bad."

"Whatever you think is best."

"I think Papa would agree."

Alberta wiped perspiration from her brow and then carried the tray to the porch.

James climbed the steps and took a glass. "Can I go?"

"May I go," Alberta corrected.