If you’re a fan of my Second Chance Cowboys, then hold onto your seats. I have a new cowboy and his name is Tucker Bailey. Remember him from Second Burn Cowboy…he was the sexy, sweet cowboy who needed a big hug because his heart was broke. Good news is, Tucker is coming…*tsk, tsk, I know where your head is.*
What do y’all think of this cover? Hot, huh?
I’m going to share a bit of Tucker with you. Below is an unedited excerpt from the first chapter.
Leave a comment, with your email and which cowboy you want included, and I’ll give one (1) winner their choice of any back copy of one of my cowboys from the Second Chance Series. Book 1 of the series is FREE!
SECOND HOPE COWBOY, BOOK 7, Second Chance Series. RELEASING October 15th
Tucker Bailey leaned his chair back on two legs, propped his booted feet on the top rail and cracked the lid off of the cold beer. He started to take a drink, but paused as headlights appeared at the crest of the hill.
No one ever came to the cabin.
And he never gave out any invitations. He didn’t want company.
Some folks got off the main drag and turned around on his narrow lane. Once they spotted the no trespassing sign wound in barbed wire, they didn’t take a chance on what they’d find further ahead. The middle of nowhere scared some people—that made him happy.
His grip tightened on the bottle and he held his breath, watching the lights.
The vehicle continued up the lane.
He didn’t like having his privacy invaded. It’d been a good three days—no distractions, no bother—until now. Tucker came to his home-away-from-home, drank a couple of beers, did some fishing and was feeling as good as new.
‘New’ was probably overshooting the truth a touch. Getting over his regret would take more than catching a few fish and a beer buzz.
He’d felt more emotion than he had in a long time when he’d opened the newspaper and found the engagement announcement for Hope Bailey and some rich doctor with a name that Tucker couldn’t even pronounce. His suspicion that his ex was moving on was confirmed.
He’d started working the land at Brooke Creek with his pal Deckland, and Tucker enjoyed it, until he started feeling like the weight of the world rested on his chest—the weight of a broken past. The small room in the hand quarters seemed to close in on him, beckoning him to get a grip on the loose threads of his life. He packed a bag i and headed to the only place where solace welcomed him like a warm hug.
Who dared disturb his peace and quiet? A jilted cowboy disturbed some time to gather his horses.
His mind reeled. There were only two people besides himself who’d ever been to the cabin.
His brother Cash knew better and wouldn’t come unannounced.
The other was—damn!
A knot developed in his throat.
He dropped his feet, the chair came down hard and his beer spilled on his lap, seeping through the material of his jeans. The sudden cold shriveled his jewels. “Double damn!”
The sound of tires on gravel made him forget the shrinking.
No way would Hope come all of this way. They’d divorced. She’d moved on, the proof had been the engagement picture in the paper. He’d never forget her smiling face, her twinkling eyes in print—a knife to his back.
His gut flip-flopped.
The car came to a stop along the edge of the grass and the engine died. The driver’s door swung open and the security light popped on, his breathing stilled.
The bottle slipped from his hand, fell to the wooden planks and the remaining contents puddled around his boots.
He didn’t give a damn.
Pushing his hat back on his forehead, he stared dumbfounded as his past came toward him wearing a plastic smile.