Cowboy’s Sweetheart

Woohoo!!! Cowboy’s Sweetheart, the third in my Sugar Coated Cowboys series, is live on Amazon March 15th! The best part? It’s half price for a limited time.

cowboyssweetheartByron Garrett appeared briefly in the first two books, Gimme Some Sugar and Sweet Cowboy Kisses. I became intrigued with this big, strong man who was a loner, frightened of getting too close to people, but who longed to have someone to love.

And Vivi just makes me laugh. She’s sweet but determined, kind but not a push over, colorful but not wild. She’s a woman I’d like to have for a friend.

Here’s the blurb:

Byron Garrett has found peace as the foreman on the Circle W ranch. He’s far from his controlling father and the man’s demands that Byron make him proud as a pro football player. Born a city boy, he’s found his passion with the land, his horses and the cowboy way of life. He’s found all he needs and it doesn’t include a woman or the complications that come with love. At least, not until a bubbly artist shows up and does her best to tear down the corral he’s built around his heart.

Vivi Beckett is searching for a place that feels like home. After traveling the country, she’s finally found it in the beautiful wilds of Oregon. With the inheritance left her when she was orphaned, she’ll buy a place to live and create her art. But after meeting Byron, Vivi suspects her dream alone won’t be enough to bring her happiness … not unless he’s at her side.

All of Vivi’s dreams are at risk when she discovers her inheritance is in jeopardy. She needs help, but Byron’s past has left him unwilling to give anyone power over his life. The ghosts in hers have left her desperate to be needed.

Will Byron be willing to join her on a different and perhaps even better path?

And an excerpt:

“Ground is never soft when you’re bucked off, but the barnyard dirt was packed like pavement from over one hundred years of use. Lucky he’d landed on his ass. He’d be sore but nothing was broken.

He watched as the paint colt continued his impression of a NFR saddle bronc. “You spavin-legged, mule headed, piece of shit!” he said under his breath.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. A colorful vision floated toward where he sat beside the round pen. Wisps of light, frothy material floated with the woman’s movements. Long blonde curls bounced as she ran toward him.

Even the colt stopped bucking to watch her approach. He danced on his toes, ready to run at the slightest provocation.

Byron stood and held out his hand to stop the woman and returned his gaze to the colt.

“Are you okay?” she called, continuing to advance at a slower pace.

He whirled on her. He didn’t want to yell. That might be all it would take for Crater to decide leaving was his best option. Luckily, his stare had its intended effect.

She froze in her tracks.

Byron turned back to the animal, crooning in a near whisper as he approached the scared colt. “Don’t worry, little man. I won’t let the big, bad lady near you.” The paint was a bundle of nerves, but he stood until Byron could get a hand on the reins. “Let’s get you put away.”

He started toward the barn, but felt the change in the gelding the minute something behind them moved. Crater jumped and tried to push past him, slapping Byron in the jaw with his head. Byron took a minute to reassure the colt again, ignoring the pain, before turning to the woman. She’d stopped where she was, but the wind was whipping her skirt around her thighs.

High-heeled knee-high boots were as inappropriate for ranch wear as the rest of her costume. She looked like a woodland fairy or maybe one of those hippy girls he’d read about from the Seventies.

“Are you okay?” She stayed where she was, but didn’t retreat. She hadn’t taken his heavy-handed hint to leave. That’s why he hung around horses, cats and dogs and not people. Hell, he even preferred hamsters.

If he’d been a friendlier man, he’d have taken a moment to explain why she was scaring the horse, and that he was fine. He could have asked her to leave him alone, but he’d found people rarely believed him if he politely told them he didn’t want their company, so he’d quit.

Turning, he led the colt into the barn. He pulled his custom-made Wade saddle off the colt and stowed it in the tack room. He’d special ordered it from Hamley & Co. in Pendleton a few years earlier, and besides the horses he owned, it was one of his most prized possessions.

As he left the stall after turning the colt loose, Byron glanced out the door. The flower child stood where he’d left her, one hand raised, wiggling her fingers at him.

Just what he needed. A hippy do-gooder. She probably loved wolves and spotted owls. Thought they were people with fur and feathers.

It would only take a few minutes to throw a leaf of hay in Crater’s manger and make his escape out the other end of the barn.

If he continued to walk away, even this flower child would take the hint that he didn’t want her company. Right?”


“Vivi watched as the big man led his horse into the barn and began taking off his saddle. The animal was gorgeous, if dangerous. The sight of the man made her heart pound, but his attitude seemed the same as the horse—intimidating.

She’d always dreamed of owning a horse, but Mother would never have allowed it. You couldn’t have a horse without dirt and dirt was one thing her mother controlled with an iron fist. Father took care of controlling everything else.

What her parents thought didn’t matter anymore. She made her own decisions now. She was free as a bird, accountable to no one, although she wished with all her heart her twin brother, Sebastian, could be here to see this beautiful country and meet these cowboys.

When Sebastian had been killed by a distracted driver, she’d lost a piece of her heart. Now, she’d made up her mind to live enough for both of them.

Maybe the man hadn’t heard her question about his injuries. She hated to think she’d done something to hurt him. Waiting until he had the horse in a pen, she entered the barn.

As she got near, he threw some hay into the feeder, glanced at her then strode away. Was this man rude or just reclusive? She’d found that people were often shy, and if she opened a conversation with them, she found a new friend.

If this cowboy was rude, she’d find out soon enough, but if he needed a friend . . . Well, then, she was good at that.

Don’t miss this sweet, western romance–get your copy of Cowboy’s Sweetheart today!