Beginning January 1, 2013

Stop by and let us know what you think of the new look!

Wednesday, June 8, 2011


The Cowboy Wore Tartan is the first book in a six book series. When 4 brothers and 2 half brothers meet and marry, they are steered toward their prospective mates by their Wily old grandfather, the Patriarch of the family.

This is a fun series, lighthearted and playful, with gradually increasing heat levels until the last book, The Chickasaw Wore Plaid, turns up the heat to scorching. I planned the books this way to entice the reader to step a little further into the fire with each book.

The Campbell's are coming to Texas and things will never be the same!

Archie Campbell and his business partner, Graham Macdonald conspire to increase their floundering business by using their grandchildren in an ad campaign, posing as a happily married couple. The only problem is getting the younger generation to cooperate.

Tav Macdonald isn't keen on marriage, even a pretend one. Yet his first sight of the lovely Vanessa Campbell has him rethinking his position on the matter.

Vanessa Campbell has no intention of indulging her wily old grandfather's scheme to marry her off to a Texas Rancher. Seeing the handsome cowboy, however, gives her pause to reconsider the idea.

This book is available at Kindle as well as FictionWise and All Romance eBooks. Be sure and get your copy soon and begin the slow burn that eventually erupts into a roaring bonfire of passion.


"Last night has nothing to do with today, Tav. You’ve been promising to show me the ranch. What better way than to have me along while you do your chores?"

"Watch yourself, missy. I might put you to work."

"I’m game," came her snappy answer. "We have horses and cattle and sheep in the highlands. On a much smaller scale than this of course, but I’m no stranger to what you call wrangling. I’ve even mended a fence or two in my time."

"You? Mend fence?" Tav let a scoffing sound escape. That mistake cost him a stinging slap across the rear with a rawhide glove for his insolence. He turned and snatched the glove out of Nessa’s hand. "Lady, if you want me to turn you over my knee, right here, right now, in full sight of every man on this ranch, do that one more time."

"You sound so ferocious, Mactavish." She smiled wickedly. "Too bad I know you so well. You’d never dare—"

He didn’t know what made him do it. One minute he was holding her glove and glaring at her, the next minute he’d grabbed her around the waist and slung her over his shoulder. He headed for the barn. Nessa squirmed and squealed. He just held on firmly and slapped her shapely rear once when she wiggled so hard they almost fell in the mud.

Once in the shelter of the barn, he closed the wide double doors and turned to face her. Nessa had backed up to the far wall. There was no escape. He grinned. The woman was conveniently close to the ladder to the loft. Every frustration he’d felt for her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, every sleepless night, and lust filled thought merged into one mindless drive. He took a step, then another, moving in on his prey.

Primeval hunger blinded him. Like a conquering clansman taking the spoils of war. She looked so defenseless, though she didn’t cower. Her eyes were trained on him—huge, startled, so blue no sky could match the shade. She held herself poised as though to run—or fight.

Tav’s blood surged, pushing him painfully against his zipper at the thought of wrestling her to the ground, tearing away the cloth that separated their flesh. Her lips parted slightly, tongue darting out to lick the corner of her mouth. God help him, he was going to ravish her.

He closed the distance, halting inches from her. One hand came up of its own volition, stroking the silky flesh of her throat. He heard a growling noise, not recognizing it as coming from his throat. Tracing the contours of her finely molded facial bones, he allowed his other hand to circle her nape, drawing her up toward his mouth.

"Stop, Tav. Please."

Her softly spoken plea barely registered as he took her lips, silencing her words. Nibbling at her lips, sucking them, pressuring them apart with his tongue, he mindlessly devoured her mouth, coming alive as she responded, stroking her tongue against his with the same frantic urgency.

He pressed her to the wall, lifting her to fit him, sliding a knee between her thighs. She closed her self around him and the damp heat of her seeped through their clothing, burning his muscled flesh as she moved against him.

I grew up in Southern California, but my heart has always been in the wide open plains of the Heartland. When I write, I see the images so clearly, it's as though I'm there. My stories flow from the heart, and when someone tells me the like my work, I am content. Sometimes I think I was born writing, and have been doing so since I could put pen to paper. My first efforts at short stories began when I was in the first grade, and I took a sabbatical to raise a husband and two sons, then returned to the craft I love.

I write for pleasure, mainly western historical with Native American Heroes, the occasional contemporary romance and also bit of whimsical fantasy. My heroes are always modeled after my late husband, whose Chickasaw heritage inspires me. Alpha heroes are the only kind I write, and they have to be compassionate, passionate and intelligent or they never make it to the page. My published work includes Native American Romance and I'm published in several anthologies as well. Along with writing, I've branched out to produce book trailer videos.

Visit my websites at or

email me at diane @ dianedaviswhite . com

Check out my blog at

1 comment:

Heide Katros said...

Diane Davis White is a marvelous author with a great passion for our Native Americans. She is also a very talented cover artist. I can highly recommend Moon of Hard Winter and The Cowboy Wore Tartan is a woderful read as well.