Hello! I'm Pippa Greathouse and I write a variety of things:
Historical Fiction
Romantic Mystery and Suspense
Paranormal and
Contemporary Romantic Suspense
and all of it Sizzles!
Historical Fiction
Romantic Mystery and Suspense
Paranormal and
Contemporary Romantic Suspense
and all of it Sizzles!
Stranded in Deadwood
He knows what happens to innocent and penniless women in this towh. . . And he's determined it won't happen to her. |
“Deadwood is such a rough and tumble town.” Aunt Liv’s words again resurfaced. “You shouldn’t be taking this trip alone. It’s no place for someone as young and pretty as you.”
Amy almost laughs as she remembers. Young? Pretty? The words of the girls in school still sting as she hears them. “She’s plain. She’ll never find a man.”
But that was then.
And now?
She’s past her twenty-second birthday, and she’s given up on being a wife and a mother for good.
Andrew Reese, however sees things differently. What is a beautiful little creature like Amy Bennett doing in a place like Deadwood?
He knows what happens to innocent young women who end up here.
And he’s determined it won’t happen to her.
Publisher’s note: This novella was previously published as part of the Anthology entitled
Lost and Found in Deadwood, in April of 2023.
Amy almost laughs as she remembers. Young? Pretty? The words of the girls in school still sting as she hears them. “She’s plain. She’ll never find a man.”
But that was then.
And now?
She’s past her twenty-second birthday, and she’s given up on being a wife and a mother for good.
Andrew Reese, however sees things differently. What is a beautiful little creature like Amy Bennett doing in a place like Deadwood?
He knows what happens to innocent young women who end up here.
And he’s determined it won’t happen to her.
Publisher’s note: This novella was previously published as part of the Anthology entitled
Lost and Found in Deadwood, in April of 2023.
Poker & Promise
She has a sharp wit; an even sharper tongue.
He's a patient man, but he has his limits.
And she's reaching them.
Fast.
Poker & Promise
Betsy Lawrence has just lost both parents to a cholera epidemic on the Oregon Trail.
Heartbroken, she takes up the reins and manages to make it as far as Fort Laramie, Wyoming territory.
When she arrives, however, she's shocked when the wagon master explains she can't continue with them.
Within moments, he returns with a man she's never met.
Thad Bridges is both handsome and intelligent, and speaks many languages. He's also patient,
but when he's forced to chase her down to get her to listen to his proposal for marriage, his
patience reaches an end quickly.
He's about to turn thirty and risks losing his inheritance if he isn't married
before his thirtieth birthday; she's alone in the world and
needs someone to look after her, in more ways than one.
Then...
A sick baby belonging to a Sioux chief
Two gruesome murders and a possible war
A poker game with high stakes.
Is there anyone she can trust now?
Dare she tell Thad her plans?
This is a story guaranteed to make you laugh, cry, and leave you with a heartwarming smile at the end!
* * *
Also, don't forget to look for
Christmas of Iron and Lace
by
Pippa Greathouse and Ruby Caine
Available Now!
A widow and a bride all in one afternoon...
Leaving the unrest at home in Buffalo to join Simeon in Virginia is exciting;
Arriving to find she's already a widow is anything but.
What can she do now? The only person she knows here is his elder brother Noah,
known as The Iron Judge, whom she despises.
Can she go home again? Absolutely not. But the sun is going down, and her only choice is to accept
Noah's offer of marriage. If she refuses, what will become of her?
He's nothing like Simeon, this man of Iron. He lives up to his reputation,
yet she finds herself being drawn to him.
And when a killer arrives in their midst and the target is the child across the street ,
Noah's demands for her safety only increase.
Pippa Greathouse and Ruby Caine bring you a book filled with challenge, heartbreak, and laughter that will warm your heart in….
Christmas of Iron and Lace
Disclaimer: This book contains mild sexual situations, and power exchange themes. If this offends you, please do not purchase.
* * *
Have you read Abby's Keeper yet?
Abby's Keeper
A personal attack on the day of her father's burial...
Threats delivered to her phone...
These are just a few of the things Abby
is experiencing.
She's run back to school to escape. But can she?
Now, things are only getting worse.
Her friends think she needs a keeper.
She thinks differently, but proving it to
them is a challenge, especially when it comes to convincing
Max Knightly, who seems determined to protect her.
Max has been watching her closely since her
recent diagnosis of diabetes.
But he quickly finds out there is more going on
in Abby's life than an illness.
Someone is after her;
the question is... who?
And just when she seems free of danger,
all hell breaks loose.
"Abby's Keeper". by
Pippa Greathouse
A sneak peek at "Abby's Keeper"
A moment later, Abby found herself seat-belted into the Ghia in the parking lot outside his office. She was still furious, but couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Without a word, he pulled out into the street and turned right, going toward his house,
“Where are you taking me?”
“Home. And you, young lady, are going to talk to me.” He unfastened his tie and threw it over his shoulder into the small back seat.
Abby pressed her lips together. Talk to him? She would do no such thing.
There was silence between them until Max pulled the Ghia up under the maple next to the house. After a moment, he appeared at her side of the car and unfastened her belt. He drew her from the car, but she came unwillingly.
“Abby? Do I need to put you over my shoulder?”
Abby looked around the neighborhood. Finally, she shook her head, and he took her hand, leading her to the back door and opening it. Max nudged her inside and closed the door. He tossed his keys on the dining room table, and took her by the shoulders, marching her into the living room.
A moment later, he sat down in the Queen Anne chair and lifted her off her feet, putting her in his lap to face him.
“All right, young lady. We’re going to sit here until you tell me what your problem is. I’ll make sure I feed you. Otherwise, make yourself comfortable, because you’re going to be here a long time. Understand?”
Anger sparked in her eyes, but she nodded.
He continued, spanning her waist with both hands, but a moment later his hands relaxed down onto her hips. “You were fine when I left you on Sunday night. What did seeing a sign on the door today change?”
She looked up, sadly.
“You have not been candid with me, Max,” she whispered, finally.
He looked surprised. “How have I not? I answered your questions, on the trip. Those answers haven’t changed.”
“But you’re the dean…” she whispered.
He nodded. “I’m a dean. Every department has one.” He tilted her chin upward. “It’s a job, Abby. I work, just like everyone else. I hope I’m good at it. There are some days, I think I’d rather teach. Meetings are not my idea of work. I hold no illusions about it; it pays well enough that it enables me to do things I think are important, but it’s still just a job.”
She listened, watching his face. Hearing him put it like that, it seemed reasonable.
“Did seeing a plaque on the door change your mind about me? If I’d had my way, I’d have just had them put up a sticky note that said ‘Max.’”
She didn’t answer. But somehow, she found that she believed him.
“Abby, I asked you a question. I expect an answer.”
She lowered her gaze to his shirt. Shaking her head, she finally spoke. “I—” Another shake followed. “It just took me by surprise. I didn’t know in the van who you were, and it seemed like everyone else did except Jenna. But no one shared it with me.”
He leaned his head back against the chair, but he was still looking down at her. “All right, let me ask you another question.” She nodded, and he continued. “Suppose, when I introduced myself, I had said, “Hello. I am Dr. Maximillian Knightly the III, and I’m the dean of the School of Sciences. Who are you?” He stopped, watching her. “If someone came up and introduced themselves to me that way, I would have tuned out completely. What would you have thought, had I done that?” He waited a few seconds. “Answer me. I’m waiting.”
“You forgot the ‘Health and Technology’ part.”
He stared at her, hard, before shaking his head. “It’s a title, Abby. It was on the door before I got the job. They just changed the name. Unfortunately, I’m stuck with that. They didn’t ask me before they put it on there.”
“Really?”
He held up a hand, lifting her chin. “Scout’s honor. I’m just Max, Abby. I’m the same person you met Friday morning on the trip. This is who I’ve always been. It’s who I always will be. But I want to hear what makes you suddenly think I’m someone else. Someone you obviously don’t like and don’t trust.”
Abby raised her gaze to his face. “I didn’t say that.”
He leaned forward, inches from her face. “Then tell me. What am I missing? I’m confused.”
She leaned forward, until her forehead touched his chest. “I don’t know, Max. I guess I just felt…” she gulped and swallowed, hard. “I don’t know what I felt. Surprised. Kept in the dark.”
His hands moved from her hips to her shoulders. “Certainly not purposely. If I made you feel that way, I’m sorry. But I must confess, I felt totally blown away when you came into the office so angry this afternoon. I had no idea what had you so upset. I really thought you knew what I do.”
She shook her head, still leaning forward.
“Then I suppose what we have, young lady, is a lack of communication.”
She nodded.
He leaned his chin down on the top of her head, thinking. “Well, isn’t this a turn of events?” He muttered under his breath.
Abby leaned back. “What do you mean?”
He grinned. “Abby, do you have any idea how disappointed I’ve been in the past at the females I’ve dated when I found out that they had a total interest in my title, and a total disinterest in me personally? They only wanted to date a person they considered a big wig. And now, here you are, and I am spending a huge amount of time with you, just to find out you hate me because you think me one.”
Her blue eyes met his. “I don’t hate you, Max.”
His brows rose. “What do you call this, then?”
“I’m just mad at you for not telling me. That’s all. What else haven’t you told me?”
He framed her face with his hands. “I think I understand why every man I know that’s in a relationship goes around with a ‘deer in the headlights’ look about him. What else do you want to know?”
Abby couldn’t help it. Laughter bubbled from her, and his brows rose further. She grinned up at him. “Show and tell?”
“If you like. Ask away,”
“Tell me about the girls you’ve dated.” An impish look brought out her dimples. “Was Glynnis Jones one of them?”
“Oh, absolutely not, thank God,” he said. “What in the world made you ask that?”
“I’m just teasing you. But I still want to know.”
“Why?”
She brought her eyes up to meet his once more. “You said I could ask.”
“So I did. All right. No. Never dated Glynnis Jones. There was… I think her name was Jennifer. Doctor’s daughter. She had her heart set on being a college big wig’s wife. She had no interest in me, at all. Took me long enough to figure that one out, but when I did, I let her gently off the hook.”
“Oh. Who else?”
He thought for a moment. “Brandi—with an ‘i’. Same story. Only she was ‘daddy’s precious little snowflake’ and about as spoiled rotten as they came. I can’t imagine why I ever dated her to begin with. My dad used to say—”
“Why did you?”
“I have no idea. Be quiet and let me answer.”
“All right.”
“My dad told me once, ‘It doesn’t matter how nice a girl is to look at, if you can’t stand to listen to her for fifty years, it’s time to let her go. And consider that your time was wasted.”
“Was she pretty?”
He looked down at her and began to laugh. “Who, Brandi? Honestly, I have no idea. I just know all of her conversation was about herself.”
“Ah. Who else?”
He leaned his head back against the chair, but kept his eyes on her face, thinking. “Cindi—also with an ‘i’. She was actually a very nice girl, but a ‘bigger wig’ than I came along, and I realized she was seeing someone else on the side. I don’t do that. Keeping up with one female is hard enough.”
“She was seeing someone else behind your back? She wasn’t a nice girl; she was a creep.”
“And then there was ‘Candy’—with a ‘y’. Same story, different name. So you see why I said what I did? And so help me, sweetheart—if you say “poor Max” I’ll set fire to your little butt.”
She giggled. “Oh, Max. I wasn’t going to say that.” But her eyes were twinkling now. She tried to push herself back off of his lap, but his hands on her waist held her fast. “Max, may I use your bathroom?”
“Sure, sweetheart. Use the one down here.” He released her, motioning to the one adjoining his bedroom.
Abby moved across the room toward it. Just before she entered the bedroom, however, she turned back impishly, and chuckled again. “Actually, I was going to say, “Poor baby!” She closed the door quickly, before he could make it across the room, and locked it, going into the bath and locking it, too.
When she came out, into the bedroom, all was quiet. The bedroom was empty. Max had probably forgotten by now what she’d said. Satisfied, she crept forward, and slowly opened the bedroom door, peeking into the living room.
No Max. She didn’t see him anywhere.
Abby took a step forward, thinking he might be in the kitchen. She turned left, to go find him, when she was suddenly lifted off her feet from behind and carried across the room.
A moment later, Abby found herself seat-belted into the Ghia in the parking lot outside his office. She was still furious, but couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Without a word, he pulled out into the street and turned right, going toward his house,
“Where are you taking me?”
“Home. And you, young lady, are going to talk to me.” He unfastened his tie and threw it over his shoulder into the small back seat.
Abby pressed her lips together. Talk to him? She would do no such thing.
There was silence between them until Max pulled the Ghia up under the maple next to the house. After a moment, he appeared at her side of the car and unfastened her belt. He drew her from the car, but she came unwillingly.
“Abby? Do I need to put you over my shoulder?”
Abby looked around the neighborhood. Finally, she shook her head, and he took her hand, leading her to the back door and opening it. Max nudged her inside and closed the door. He tossed his keys on the dining room table, and took her by the shoulders, marching her into the living room.
A moment later, he sat down in the Queen Anne chair and lifted her off her feet, putting her in his lap to face him.
“All right, young lady. We’re going to sit here until you tell me what your problem is. I’ll make sure I feed you. Otherwise, make yourself comfortable, because you’re going to be here a long time. Understand?”
Anger sparked in her eyes, but she nodded.
He continued, spanning her waist with both hands, but a moment later his hands relaxed down onto her hips. “You were fine when I left you on Sunday night. What did seeing a sign on the door today change?”
She looked up, sadly.
“You have not been candid with me, Max,” she whispered, finally.
He looked surprised. “How have I not? I answered your questions, on the trip. Those answers haven’t changed.”
“But you’re the dean…” she whispered.
He nodded. “I’m a dean. Every department has one.” He tilted her chin upward. “It’s a job, Abby. I work, just like everyone else. I hope I’m good at it. There are some days, I think I’d rather teach. Meetings are not my idea of work. I hold no illusions about it; it pays well enough that it enables me to do things I think are important, but it’s still just a job.”
She listened, watching his face. Hearing him put it like that, it seemed reasonable.
“Did seeing a plaque on the door change your mind about me? If I’d had my way, I’d have just had them put up a sticky note that said ‘Max.’”
She didn’t answer. But somehow, she found that she believed him.
“Abby, I asked you a question. I expect an answer.”
She lowered her gaze to his shirt. Shaking her head, she finally spoke. “I—” Another shake followed. “It just took me by surprise. I didn’t know in the van who you were, and it seemed like everyone else did except Jenna. But no one shared it with me.”
He leaned his head back against the chair, but he was still looking down at her. “All right, let me ask you another question.” She nodded, and he continued. “Suppose, when I introduced myself, I had said, “Hello. I am Dr. Maximillian Knightly the III, and I’m the dean of the School of Sciences. Who are you?” He stopped, watching her. “If someone came up and introduced themselves to me that way, I would have tuned out completely. What would you have thought, had I done that?” He waited a few seconds. “Answer me. I’m waiting.”
“You forgot the ‘Health and Technology’ part.”
He stared at her, hard, before shaking his head. “It’s a title, Abby. It was on the door before I got the job. They just changed the name. Unfortunately, I’m stuck with that. They didn’t ask me before they put it on there.”
“Really?”
He held up a hand, lifting her chin. “Scout’s honor. I’m just Max, Abby. I’m the same person you met Friday morning on the trip. This is who I’ve always been. It’s who I always will be. But I want to hear what makes you suddenly think I’m someone else. Someone you obviously don’t like and don’t trust.”
Abby raised her gaze to his face. “I didn’t say that.”
He leaned forward, inches from her face. “Then tell me. What am I missing? I’m confused.”
She leaned forward, until her forehead touched his chest. “I don’t know, Max. I guess I just felt…” she gulped and swallowed, hard. “I don’t know what I felt. Surprised. Kept in the dark.”
His hands moved from her hips to her shoulders. “Certainly not purposely. If I made you feel that way, I’m sorry. But I must confess, I felt totally blown away when you came into the office so angry this afternoon. I had no idea what had you so upset. I really thought you knew what I do.”
She shook her head, still leaning forward.
“Then I suppose what we have, young lady, is a lack of communication.”
She nodded.
He leaned his chin down on the top of her head, thinking. “Well, isn’t this a turn of events?” He muttered under his breath.
Abby leaned back. “What do you mean?”
He grinned. “Abby, do you have any idea how disappointed I’ve been in the past at the females I’ve dated when I found out that they had a total interest in my title, and a total disinterest in me personally? They only wanted to date a person they considered a big wig. And now, here you are, and I am spending a huge amount of time with you, just to find out you hate me because you think me one.”
Her blue eyes met his. “I don’t hate you, Max.”
His brows rose. “What do you call this, then?”
“I’m just mad at you for not telling me. That’s all. What else haven’t you told me?”
He framed her face with his hands. “I think I understand why every man I know that’s in a relationship goes around with a ‘deer in the headlights’ look about him. What else do you want to know?”
Abby couldn’t help it. Laughter bubbled from her, and his brows rose further. She grinned up at him. “Show and tell?”
“If you like. Ask away,”
“Tell me about the girls you’ve dated.” An impish look brought out her dimples. “Was Glynnis Jones one of them?”
“Oh, absolutely not, thank God,” he said. “What in the world made you ask that?”
“I’m just teasing you. But I still want to know.”
“Why?”
She brought her eyes up to meet his once more. “You said I could ask.”
“So I did. All right. No. Never dated Glynnis Jones. There was… I think her name was Jennifer. Doctor’s daughter. She had her heart set on being a college big wig’s wife. She had no interest in me, at all. Took me long enough to figure that one out, but when I did, I let her gently off the hook.”
“Oh. Who else?”
He thought for a moment. “Brandi—with an ‘i’. Same story. Only she was ‘daddy’s precious little snowflake’ and about as spoiled rotten as they came. I can’t imagine why I ever dated her to begin with. My dad used to say—”
“Why did you?”
“I have no idea. Be quiet and let me answer.”
“All right.”
“My dad told me once, ‘It doesn’t matter how nice a girl is to look at, if you can’t stand to listen to her for fifty years, it’s time to let her go. And consider that your time was wasted.”
“Was she pretty?”
He looked down at her and began to laugh. “Who, Brandi? Honestly, I have no idea. I just know all of her conversation was about herself.”
“Ah. Who else?”
He leaned his head back against the chair, but kept his eyes on her face, thinking. “Cindi—also with an ‘i’. She was actually a very nice girl, but a ‘bigger wig’ than I came along, and I realized she was seeing someone else on the side. I don’t do that. Keeping up with one female is hard enough.”
“She was seeing someone else behind your back? She wasn’t a nice girl; she was a creep.”
“And then there was ‘Candy’—with a ‘y’. Same story, different name. So you see why I said what I did? And so help me, sweetheart—if you say “poor Max” I’ll set fire to your little butt.”
She giggled. “Oh, Max. I wasn’t going to say that.” But her eyes were twinkling now. She tried to push herself back off of his lap, but his hands on her waist held her fast. “Max, may I use your bathroom?”
“Sure, sweetheart. Use the one down here.” He released her, motioning to the one adjoining his bedroom.
Abby moved across the room toward it. Just before she entered the bedroom, however, she turned back impishly, and chuckled again. “Actually, I was going to say, “Poor baby!” She closed the door quickly, before he could make it across the room, and locked it, going into the bath and locking it, too.
When she came out, into the bedroom, all was quiet. The bedroom was empty. Max had probably forgotten by now what she’d said. Satisfied, she crept forward, and slowly opened the bedroom door, peeking into the living room.
No Max. She didn’t see him anywhere.
Abby took a step forward, thinking he might be in the kitchen. She turned left, to go find him, when she was suddenly lifted off her feet from behind and carried across the room.
Pippa Greathouse and Ruby Caine have also written three series of books together! Check their page to see what's up!