Falling For Forester by Renee Vincent (Reviews & Excerpt)

RV HeadshotSince the release of Falling For Forester, book 3 of my Mavericks of Meeteetse series, I’ve been on cloud nine with all the positive feedback and reviews this series is getting. I cannot thank my readers enough for traveling with me into a new genre of contemporary cowboy romance. And for all the cowboy romance fans out there who’ve made the leap to try my rugged cowboys on for size, I thank you as well from the bottom of my heart!

Check out some of these Amazon reviews:

“Renee Vincent is my new favorite author. I love a book that makes you laugh and I literally laughed out loud in this one. I was so looking forward to Cole’s story when I met him in Made For McKinley and it did not disappoint. If you haven’t read any of Renee’s books, you’re losing out. I never post spoilers, but this book will not let you down.” —Susan, Amazon reviewer

“Renee Vincent’s series, should please lovers of cowboy romance! It’s well written, steamy and fun to follow!” —Nicole, Amazon reviewer

“And Renee Vincent nails it once again . Cole and Crys story has it all sweet romance, sass and plenty of hottness. This cowboy romance story and series should not be missed. Cannot wait to read Sawyer and Charlotte’s story up next.” —Melissa, Amazon reviewer

Falling for ForesterBecause I love this series so much, I want to share with you an excerpt from Falling For Forester (Cole & Crys).

Perhaps you’d like to start this series over the long 4th of July weekend…personally, I can’t think of a better way to spend the holiday than with a tall glass of iced tea, a shady front porch, and a couple of hunky Wyoming cowboys! Hope you enjoy!


Nothing says damsel in distress like white smoke billowing from the hood of a full-sized pickup truck on the side of the road. And nothing wills a man to pull over like a nice curvy butt in jeans.

Cole Forester shot a quick glance in his rearview mirror before he decided to stop and help, taking in the length of the woman’s blonde hair falling down her back. Much to his surprise, her beautiful golden locks almost reached her ass, stopping short of her low-rise denim belt loops. He tamped down a smile, pulled over, and threw the shifter into Park.

Looks like my shitty day is finally perking up.

Sammy, his Australian Blue Heeler, barked twice and sat up on the front seat beside him. Cole noticed he no longer struggled with rising to his feet, despite the long, gruesome scar running across his hind leg from a protective mama grizzly a few months ago. Doc Peterson had said it might take as long as six months for Sammy to heal. Cole was thrilled it had taken less.

He scratched Sammy behind the ears and commanded him to stay. The dog whined once in protest but did as he was told.

Cole stepped out of the cab as he adjusted his cowboy hat. Steam still spewed from the radiator of her truck, which he noticed was a three-quarter-ton GMC with alloy wheels and a killer paint job, but the cute blonde was nowhere to be found.

He shut his truck door and pointed another warning to Sammy before walking toward her vehicle. He examined the scene. New truck. Texas plates. Matching horse trailer. And a disappearing lady in distress.

He chuckled to himself, wondering where the hell she went. He’d heard the folks in Texas didn’t mess around. With his luck, she probably ran inside her living quarters for a gun. When he brought to mind her small stature, he couldn’t imagine one ounce of aggression in that sweet little body, much less a woman equipped to wield a firearm.

He walked around the passenger side of her truck and looked down the length of the rig behind it. By the time he peeked through the tinted cab windows, he heard the unmistakable sound of a pump-action shotgun behind him.

He froze and slowly raised his hands to shoulder level. “Easy, ma’am.”

“I’ll ease up after you get back in your truck and roll on, mister.”

Cole smiled, entertained by the woman’s bravery. At six foot five, two hundred forty pounds, he was nothing to sneeze at. And based on the good look he got of her as he drove by, he figured she couldn’t have been much taller than five foot seven.

“I don’t blame you for being cautious in this day and age, little lady, but I’m harmless.”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say.”


“Rapists and murderers.”

Cole scoffed. “Might I give you some advice? You shouldn’t hang around people like that.”

“You think you’re funny?”

He did, but was mighty glad she couldn’t see the grin on his face. She’d have pumped his ass full of lead. “Call it a defense mechanism for having a gun pointed at my back. I’m only trying to be a gentleman.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t know you well enough to tell if you’re lying. And the longer you stand here, the more suspicious I become of your Good Samaritan act. Consider this a fair warning. I know how to use this thing, I’m far from gullible, and I have trust issues.”

You don’t say. “Look, I couldn’t care less whether you believe me or not. But you’re not going anywhere with that radiator overheating. You need fluid in that engine, and the closest place is about ten miles up the road. It’s called the Wagon Wheel. Nice little place that serves cold drinks and hot bar food. I’m driving that way myself and wouldn’t mind giving you a lift.”

“It’s kind of you, but I’ll pass.”

“You’ll never make it without some sort of fluid to cool the engine, especially with that trailer. And it’s a long way on foot.”

“I’ve got a horse.”

“At least tell me you have a phone—”

“Got that too. Should I call the police right now?”

Cole slowly turned around and looked at his stubborn adversary. She stood with her feet spread and gripped a gorgeous Remington Model 870 Wingmaster pump-action shotgun at her shoulder like a pro, unlike a novice who’d be hip-shooting.


“Something else funny?”

He must have smiled, but he quickly erased it. “Not at all. I was just admiring your weapon of choice. Got one just like it.”

“Then you know it’s pretty lethal at close range. Not to mention it has a solid steel receiver and twin action bars for flawless cycling. It’s an American icon that will take you down in the blink of an eye.”

Cole didn’t hide his amusement this time. She’d grabbed his attention with her sweet little ass but stole his heart with her proficient knowledge of firearms. He could almost marry her. A picture of them standing together at an altar beneath a rustic arbor of elk antlers popped into his head. She wore a simple white sundress, cowboy boots, and a scowl, much like the look she was giving him now. “I do,” he stated, “know all that and more about the Remington.”

“Good. Now, please don’t make me prove it.”

He watched her step to the side, giving him room to move between her and her truck. Her sights remained on him. “Yes, ma’am.”

Keeping his hands raised, he held her gaze as he slipped past. While glad to leave in one piece, part of him was disappointed he hadn’t snagged her name. It wasn’t often a woman like that waltzed into his world. Most were typical powder-and-paint chicks whose expertise lay in accessorizing and lip gloss application. This one was a genuine cowgirl with piss and vinegar running through her veins. She had a free, untamable spirit and a big Texas ego, for neither of which she’d ever apologize. Like the crisp mountain breeze of Wyoming, she was truly a breath of fresh air.

Staring down the barrel, he backed up all the way to his truck and climbed inside. Sammy remained quiet and submissive, greeting him only with a happy tail wag as he tugged the shifter into Drive. From his view in the side mirror, he could see she kept aim. He pinched the brim of his hat and nodded a polite cowboy farewell at her reflection before pulling away.

Driving off proved harder than he expected. She’d made a considerable impression on him, and he hated that he’d never see her again. Against his better judgment, he glanced at his rear mirrors from time to time. He fought the urge to tromp down on the brakes and spin a U-ee. Was he crazy? Was he trying to get himself killed?

You fool! She’s a girl, made of gunpowder and lead who’d love a good excuse to prove it.

Sammy nuzzled next to him as if he sensed his discontentment. Cole absently stroked his fur, mulling over his options. Essentially, he had none. Whether she fascinated him or not, he couldn’t go back there without the risk of getting shot.

Sammy barked, jerking Cole’s focus away from the long stretch of blacktop behind him. He pulled his dog closer and patted him soundly. “You’re right. She ain’t worth it. Besides, women only complicate things, don’t they?”

Sammy acknowledged him with another yap and offered his paw. Cole laughed and shook it, pretending to accept the dog’s proposition. “Deal. Only a bachelor’s life for us.”

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About Renee Vincent

RENEE VINCENT is a USA Today bestselling author who also pens humorous, sweet contemporary romance (with a smidgen of spunk) under the name GRACIE LEE ROSE. From the daunting, charismatic Vikings, to the charming, brazen Alpha male heroes of modern day (which now include cowboys) readers will be whisked away to a world filled with fast-paced adventure, unforgettable romance, and undying love.
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2 Responses to Falling For Forester by Renee Vincent (Reviews & Excerpt)

  1. Clare O'Beara says:

    Enjoy your Fourth of July!

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