Maggie, the daugher of Moss and Bill Coleman, has invited all the passionate family, plus several hundred guests, to a July 4th barbecue to celebrate the new sense of family pride she's determined to forge. But whether its ambition, jealousy, rivalry, or passion, each Coleman has a drama of his or her own to face, and each will feed the flames of TEXAS HEAT. Praise for Fern Michaels' first novel in the bestselling Texas series, Texas Rich "A steaming, sprawling saga . . . As always, Fern Michaels writes a full story with bigger-than-life characters we would look forward to meeting. . . . A rags-to-riches saga that would make a colorful movie." --Romantic Times "Talk about action! There is more in this epic than in five novels. And it's fascinating, interesting, and exciting. One of those rare books, the kind the reader doesn't want to end. A real winner!" --Green Bay Press Gazette "Fine fare for Fern Michaels's fans!" --The Philadelphia Inquirer Maggie, the daugher of Moss and Bill Coleman, has invited all the passionate family, plus several hundred guests, to a July 4th barbecue to celebrate the new sense of family pride she's determined to forge. But whether its ambition, jealousy, rivalry, or passion, each Coleman has a drama of his or her own to face, and each will feed the flames of TEXAS HEAT. Fern Michaels was the New York Times bestselling author of the Texas quartet of sizzling contemporary novels Texas Rich, Texas Heat, Texas Fury, and Texas Sunrise , as well as the steamy books in the Captive series: Captive Embraces, Captive Innocence, Captive Passions, Captive Splendors, and Captive Secrets . She also wrote For All Their Lives, Serendipity, Seasons of Her Life, Desperate Measures, and To Have and to Hold . She passed away in 2025. Sawyer Coleman watched the patterns the lazy California sun created on her cluttered desk. It had been weeks now since she’d seen the shiny cherrywood surface. Papers were strewn into haphazard piles, pencils with broken points, pens with chewed tops, all signs of overwork and frustration. She really should hire an assistant, someone to help with the load, but no one had ever satisfied her and she loathed having to check and recheck someone else’s work. She had admitted to herself a long time ago that she was a workaholic, but lately she seemed to meet herself coming and going. Heaving a sigh, Sawyer ran her long, manicured fingers through her wealth of golden-blond hair. There was no getting away from it; the work had to be done, and she was the best one for the job. Coleman Aviation was a family-held enterprise, a leader in manufacturing and designing small private jet planes, and she was the only one with the background and education to handle the growing company. There were those about her, in the outer offices, who said Sawyer was too dedicated, too persnickety. She’d just heard that one the other day. Persnickety, for God’s sake. The only thing she was certain of was that it wasn’t complimentary. Sawyer rummaged in her top drawer for cigarettes and lit one. She rarely smoked, usually only in tense situations or as a ploy to stall for time. She was doing both now. Stalling because she didn’t want to look at the invitation a second time, and tense because she hadn’t heard from Rand in over two weeks. That alone was enough to make her itchy. Add that to Maggie’s invitation and she could become a basket case within the hour. Mother Maggie. Maggie, mistress of Sunbridge. Maggie the man-eater. Maggie, her own mother. Sawyer grimaced. She was up and out of her chair, smoothing the soft gray flannel skirt over her trim hips. At the window she fixed her gaze on the bright ball in the sky. Aztec gold, she thought inanely as she puffed furiously on the cigarette she didn’t want. The invitation was for a command appearance, a return to Sunbridge to watch Maggie preen. But there was more to it. Maggie needed the family’s approval to take the helm. Bad girl Maggie returns to the scene of her crime but is forgiven. Sawyer laughed and choked on the cigarette smoke, sputtering until tears came to her eyes. Grand would probably call soon, by tomorrow the latest. Then the others. And Rand, she thought with sudden hope, yes, Rand would call. Long-distance relationships were hell, overseas relationships were even worse. Damn, now her whole day was ruined. Why couldn’t Maggie have sent the invitation and her chatty little bullcrap letter to the apartment instead of the office? Communication with Maggie shouldn’t be so upsetting after all these years, but it was. She wished she had a hide too thick for Maggie to penetrate. What she did have was a sore, bruised heart that would never heal. Family reunions should be outlawed. There was no way she could escape the invitation. She’d just have to put a good face on it. Seeing young Riley again would be worth a confrontation with Maggie. And to see Rand and spend time with him, she’d travel to Africa if necess