Emily

Years ago, my mom had a yard sale. We got rid of a lot of stuff, including many of my old books, but I kept Emily because it was my favorite of the Sunfire romances. When I was about eleven years old, I devoured these things. Each was about 400 pages of historical romance fiction, set at various times and locations, all in the U.S., if I recall correctly. One was on the Titanic, one was in the early 1940s, one was in the California Gold Rush, one was in the 1840s, etc. The title was always the heroine's name, and she was always torn between two men, each of whom was perfect, but the heroine had to follow her heart. Did anyone else read these? I'm thinking Wolfangel is the most likely to have, heh. (Click thumbnails for larger images.)

A lengthy excerpt follows. Read it!

Suddenly he smiled, revealing perfect white teeth; it was an amazing transformation. His smile was so angelic, so fetching in its dark countenance, it was like the sun coming up over the mountains. Emily's knees trembled.

"I suppose I deserved that," he said. "Let me explain. Dr. Marsteller has always had . . . an interest in my career, you might say. He asked me to go with him on his society rounds, and at every stop we were given refreshments. I've done more eating today than doctoring."

Emily was puzzled by something he'd said. "Society rounds?"

"You know, Fifth Avenue. At the hospital we call doctors like him society doctors, because he tends to you rich people."

Well, of all the arrogant -- She took a deep breath and replied coolly, "Rich people have a right to medical care, too."

"Oh, they're certainly never denied their rights, though other people might be."

"I don't understand you." Actually she wished this dreadful boy would leave. She was worried enough about what was going on upstairs without further aggravation.

"It's very simple, Miss Blackburn," Stephen said, enunciating very carefully as though speaking to a three-year-old. "The more money you have, the more attention you get. You see, this is my first time uptown, and it's been a real eye-opener."

"Indeed?" Emily knew she was sounding as frosty as her mother, but it was the only way to put this Stephen Reed in his place.

"I don't suppose you want to hear more."

"Of course. Do go on."

He glanced around the hall where they were still standing. As his eyes came back to Emily she saw that his anger had returned.

"You'd never understand," he said, dismissing her.

"Mr. Reed, you started to tell me something. Now, I'm more worried about my brother than some revelation you might have had, but since you brought it up, have the courtesy to finish."

"All right, Miss Blackburn, I'll tell you. Every visit Dr. Marsteller made today was an absolute waste. He saw spoiled ladies who only had an attack of indigestion from eating too much rich food or from those blasted corsets. I'll confess that there was one legitimate complaint -- a woman had to have a bunion treated, which will never really get better unless she stops wearing shoes two sizes two [sic] small. I never saw so many women who called the doctor for nothing but attention. I'm thoroughly disgusted by pampered ladies who had to have their imaginary ailments indulged while women and men on the other side of town are dying because they can't afford a doctor. And this house, I see, is just like all the others I was in today."

Shocked, Emily looked around, trying to see things through Stephen's eyes. She could imagine his hatred as he first saw the Blackburn four-story mansion with the elaborate stone carvings over the many-paned windows. He undoubtedly resented their view of Central Park, the protective spear-crested bronze fence that enclosed their well-kept grounds. As Dr. Marsteller's buggy drove between the granite pillars topped by kneeling bronze lions, blue-green with age, his eyes would have narrowed.