Cherokee Stranger [NOOK Book]



That was how Emily Chapman felt when her gaze locked with the sensual, black-eyed stranger across the smoky bar. As the jukebox wailed, she knew he was the man, and this was the night.


What James Dalton felt for Emily Chapman was so hot it should be outlawed. Nothing else mattered but this moment, in this incredibly arousing woman's arms. But he was a man with a lot to hide. And Emily had ...

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Cherokee Stranger

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That was how Emily Chapman felt when her gaze locked with the sensual, black-eyed stranger across the smoky bar. As the jukebox wailed, she knew he was the man, and this was the night.


What James Dalton felt for Emily Chapman was so hot it should be outlawed. Nothing else mattered but this moment, in this incredibly arousing woman's arms. But he was a man with a lot to hide. And Emily had her own secrets, too. Come tomorrow, they would part as strangers. Unless a chance encounter could turn the past into a future worth fighting for....

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781426883002
  • Publisher: Harlequin
  • Publication date: 11/24/2010
  • Series: Silhouette Desire Series , #1563
  • Sold by: Barnes & Noble
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 192
  • Sales rank: 590,462
  • File size: 417 KB

Meet the Author

Sheri WhiteFeather has worked as a retail manager, a video makeup artist and a freelance leather artisan. Since her one true passion is writing, she thrives on the joy of entertaining her readers with her imagination. She credits her husband, Dru, a tribally enrolled member of the Muscogee Creek Nation, for inspiring many of her stories. His love of animals has brought a menagerie of ever-changing companions into her life, including horses, dogs, snakes, lizards, ferrets, hawks, falcons, owls and Bengal cats.

Sheri and Dru live in a cowboy community in Central Valley, California, and have two grown children, a son and a daughter, who inherited their dad's dark hair and deep brown eyes. Sheri's hobbies include ethnic dining, attending powwows, decorating with antiques and shopping in thrift stores for jackets from the 60s and 70s, items that mark her interest in vintage western wear and hippie fringe.

She writes passionate romances for the Silhouette Desire series and has crafted several paranormal/suspense Silhouette Bombshell novels, enjoying both genres. Most of her books feature American Indian characters. Her favorite Desire heroes to create are modern-day warriors, men with powerful hearts and strong souls. Her favorite Bombshell heroines are wicked, witty, kick-ass women who tackle whatever comes their way.

Sheri, an Italian American, claims a rich ancestry from great-grandparents who immigrated to the United States. She has also written books with mob-driven plots, drawing from interviews with family members about deceased Mafia relatives.

She loves to hear from her readers. Visit her web site at

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First Chapter

Cherokee Stranger

By Sheri WhiteFeather

Harlequin Enterprises, Ltd.

Copyright © 2004 Harlequin Enterprises, Ltd.
All right reserved.

ISBN: 0-373-76563-0

Chapter One

As the mellow tune echoed through the jukebox's hollow speakers, the tall, dark stranger made another selection.

Emily Chapman scooted to the edge of her seat. Everything about the stranger fascinated her, even his taste in music. So far, he'd chosen love songs, tragic ballads steeped in emotion, lyrics that defied his hardedged stance.

He turned away from the jukebox, and she watched him through curious eyes.

Was he a ball-busting country boy or a street-smart city dweller? She couldn't quite tell. Either way, he carried himself with a wary, don't-mess-with-me gait.

He wore jeans, a white T-shirt and a denim jacket. His medium-length hair fell across his forehead in a rebellious black line, nearly shielding his eyes. His face, shadowed by the dim light, proved strong and angular.

Ignoring the other patrons, the small scatter of people in the bar, he proceeded to his table, where he'd left a bottle of domestic beer. Next he slouched in his seat, kicked his booted feet onto the rail of an empty chair and lifted his drink, taking a long, hard swallow.

"Here you go." The waitress brought Emily's wine, blocking her view, shutting out the intriguing stranger.

Caught off guard, she shifted her attention to the other woman, a middle-aged, kiss-my-grits redhead whose nametag identified her as Meg. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, hon." Meg motioned to the door that led to the kitchen. "But your appetizer isn't ready yet. It'll be a few more minutes."

"That's fine." Emily wasn't particularly hungry, but she'd ordered stuffed mushrooms, hoping to give herself something to do. She'd never been to a bar by herself, let alone a dusky little lounge connected to a midpriced motel.

Of course, it certainly beat holing up in her room, worrying herself into the ground.

As the waitress departed, Emily glanced at the stranger again. But when he turned in her direction, time stopped, the earth freezing on its axis.

Their gazes met and held, like magnets to metal.

Spellbound, neither blinked. Neither broke the bond. They simply stared at each other from across the room.

Emily's mouth went dry. Within an instant, within one heart-palpitating moment, he'd left her breathless.

He wasn't flirting, she thought. It was more than that. Much more. He watched her with masculine recognition, as if he knew what it was like to touch her, to hold her, to run his hands over every inch of her body.

Dear God.

Determined to regain her composure, to sever the nerve-jangling tie, she lifted her wine and took a small sip, but her fingers quaked around the glass.

What would he think if he knew she had cancer? Would he still be looking at her with longing in his eyes?

Don't dwell on that, her subconscious warned. No self-pity. No fear. She wasn't dying. Sooner or later, the cancer would be gone.

And so would a portion of her skin.

The song on the jukebox ended and another began. This time, an early Elvis tune played havoc with her emotions. Another favored melody, she thought. Another connection to the mysterious stranger.

Did he live in this area? Or had he come to Lewiston to see family members? To meet up with an old friend?

Emily had come here for an appointment at a medical center located ninety minutes from home. She could have made the trip in one day, but she'd decided to stay the night, to reflect, to spend some time alone.

In exactly two weeks, she was scheduled for a wide excision, a surgery that would cut away the cancer. At this point, two weeks seemed like an eternity, but her condition, the melanoma, wouldn't progress in fourteen days. It wasn't an unreasonable amount of time, not between insurance authorizations and the surgeon's availability.

Emily took a deep breath. She'd promised herself that she wouldn't panic about going under the knife, that she wouldn't worry if the cancer had spread to her lymph nodes.

When the appetizer arrived, Meg hovered for a moment, her teased-and-sprayed hairdo bobbing as she moved her head.

"Gorgeous, isn't he?" she said.

"Yes." Emily knew the man continued to watch her. She could feel the heat of his gaze.

"Why don't you buy him a drink?"

"What?" She stared at the brazen redhead.

The waitress cocked her hip. "A beer, darlin'. He's about due for another."

"This probably isn't the best time for me to -" She paused, realizing what she was about to admit. How inadequate she felt, how disjointed.

"That's okay. It was just a suggestion." Meg gave her a friendly smile and retreated, leaving Emily alone with her thoughts.

Should she buy him a drink? Her? The small-town girl diagnosed with skin cancer?

As he finished the last of his beer, Emily lifted her fork, skewered a mushroom and sucked it into her mouth. He pushed his hair away from his forehead, exposing a widow's peak and slashing black brows.

Her entire body went woozy and warm.

To hell with the cancer. She was going to meet this man. Say something to him.

With as much courage as she could muster, she rose, determined to approach his table. As she crossed the room, she spotted Meg leaning against a barstool. She gazed at the other woman, hoping for a boost of encouragement.

The waitress flashed a sly wink.

By the time Emily reached him, her pulse thudded in her ears. He came to his feet, and she realized how tall he actually was. He towered over her by nearly a foot.

She extended a clammy palm. "My name is Emily."


Excerpted from Cherokee Stranger by Sheri WhiteFeather Copyright © 2004 by Harlequin Enterprises, Ltd.. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4.5
( 6 )
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Sort by: Showing all of 6 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted November 3, 2012



    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted June 30, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    Basic, simple afternoon reading material.

    Knowing, witnessing and even participating in criminal activities of the mob haunted Reed Blackwood (now known as James Dalton) to the point that he decided to turn himself over to the authorities. He served his time, made his statements and was placed in WITSEC (Witness Security/Protection). During his relocation process, his handler (Zach Ryder) took him to a hotel just outside of his final destination of Silverwolf Idaho. He met the women of his dreams (she resembled his wife) but luckily he would never see her again. The man in the hotel was stunning to Emily Chapman, and she needed a distraction. She had come to the hotel because she didn't want to drive home after her pre-surgery doctor visit, now that she was back home in Silverwolf, she couldn't get him out of her mind. The relationship they were forging had hurdles to overcome starting with Emily's cancer, James' real name and if love really ever could be enough.

    Not what I expected. Being called 'Cherokee Stranger', implies more of Indian ties than what was really present, although I liked the bit about the Cherokee incantation written and put in the locket. This is a new writer to me, I will possibly try to find others of her work (that has more to do with my interest in Cherokee Indians in novels than her), I would also expect a 'Silhouette Desire' to have a little more in the romance, it has some, but it is not as detailed as I had expected. Overall a short, nice afternoon read

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 23, 2012

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    Posted February 12, 2011

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 4, 2011

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 1, 2010

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