Title: GALLOPING INTO MARRIAGE
Author: SONJA GUNTER
Genre: CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
Book Blurb:
Horses. Rodeos. Barrel racing. Money. Marriage.
Rosalind Dunne, a twenty-five-year-old barrel racer, is in need of a husband, to gain her inheritance in full, to open a horse sanctuary. While in Las Vegas at a competition, she plots a way to outsmart the old fashion marriage stipulation put on her trust by her grandfather.
In Vegas to attend a friend’s wedding, confirmed bachelor, Allan Smith, owner of a New York brokerage firm, wakes up in the morning to find a wedding band on his finger. The problem is he can’t remember the ceremony or the bride.
Rosalind and Allan don’t want to be married or fall in love. But does a City Boy become a cowboy and find true love with a Rodeo Queen?
Excerpt:
Rosalind Dunne walked Dawn, her golden quarter mare, to the gates and heard the loud crowd. Sam Hughs, who’d been her grandpa’s oldest best friend and now her guardian, had warned her about turn three. She’d already heard several riders complain about the group of spectators who were being obnoxious and distracting at the turn.
She glanced around the Las Vegas Sagebrush Ranch Arena towards turn three and saw them.
All men. It Figures!
She counted at least nine. They were whistling, hollering, and waving, what she guessed were newly acquired bandanas and cowboy hats at each rider that rode by. She could tell they definitely weren’t real cowboys, only wannabes.
Not today, her mind screamed, as she angrily kicked at the dirt. She couldn’t afford to lose. This was the last big Annual Barrel Race competition before the World Championship Show in November. Today’s winner would receive a purse of fifteen thousand dollars.
Mr. Kennedy, her real-estate agent, had left a message, saying that Mr. Hillsboro, the owner, weren’t going to wait any longer for the down payment. She needed to sign the purchase agreement and close by the year end; or it was going back on the market.
Time wasn’t being her friend. She wasn’t about to let the land slip through her fingers. Not when she was so close but her time frame had closed to three months. Everything would’ve been completed by now if Sam hadn’t reminded her about her grandpa’s will and his old school marriage stipulation.
Dawn snickered and Rosalind eased up on the bridle. “Sorry girl. I’m just mad.”
What was she going to do? She needed a major portion of her funds by the end of the year. The land she wanted, no needed; wasn’t going to wait for her to turn thirty. She was only twenty-five! It was for sale now!
Mr. Dwight Hillsboro, the owner of the adjacent ranch to hers, had promised to give her first chance to purchase his land when he decided to sell. He’d called her a couple months ago saying he was going to list his ranch because he needed the cash. He knew how important his land was to her but she understood he needed the money. Now it was her turn to make good on her guarantee to buy it.
If things would fall into place like she’d planned she’d be able to open up the land as a sanctuary for aging and abused horses. She already had several horses on her waiting list.
Damn it! She wanted the land. She needed the land. It all came down to the land. It was everything.
Squeezin’ Lizzie, as she liked to call the saddle horn, she pulled herself up on top of Dawn. Suddenly, the drone from the crowd in the arena grew louder. She took a wild guess that another rider must have taken turn three. Those men had to be drunker than a peach orchard sow or crazier than a parrot eatin’ stick candy, she thought.
Without missing a stride, she moved Dawn closer to the posts to have a clearer view of what was happening. The next rider raced around the barrels but instead of watching the rider, her gaze horned in on the group of men. One of them was wearing a sign that read, About to be Hitched. At least he had a choice; he wasn’t being forced to get married.
As the rider neared the third barrel in front of the group, they waved and howled. The horse got spooked and slowed down.
Not good. Poor rider.
The rider saved the run but not the time.
Damn wannabe’s. Where were the officials?
Her gloved fingers tightened on the reins, which caused Dawn again to snicker in protest and pull her head. Disgust replaced her smile and she was about to complain to the officials herself, but felt an intense stare coming from the group of the men. She tried not to look but found the one pair of eyes that were looking right at her. They took her breath away.
OMG. He was so hot he could melt ice cubes on a cold day in Minnesota.
The eyes belonged to the most magnificent hunk of a man she’d ever seen. And she’d been around tough, good looking bull riders, bare back riders and bronco riders before. But for some reason the man’s unbroken stare was giving her butterflies.
Breathe. Damn it.
It had to be his blonde hair; it had always been her down fall. His however, stuck out like a casino in a church district. She smiled when she noticed the way his midnight black Stetson was sitting pushed back on his head.
Did he know wearing his hat that way meant he was single and looking for company? She doubted it. Could he be the one she needed?
She tweaked her lips as she stared back and tipped her hat to him. She looked away first, the man wouldn’t give up staring at her, it was to unsettling.
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What makes your featured book a must-read?
The love of horses.
Meeting Mr. Right and not knowing.
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Runs December 16 – December 31, 2024.
Winner will be drawn on January 2, 2025.
Author Biography:
I was born and raised in the cold and beautiful Minnesota, but I escaped to Illinois for seventeen years to raise my two boys, and now I call Florida home. My husband Andy, who’s always been my hero, has put up with my late-night computer typing and endless stacks of papers with my stories on them. We have one furry friend as family: Chip, a sixteen-year-old ragdoll cat.
Life has been full of ups and downs, but I’ve made it through the hard times. I love to travel and go to Disney World to trade pins. I’ve been a bowler for many years, and you can catch me writing my next novel at the lanes.
I encourage you to check out my web site, www.sonjagunter.com for more info and don’t be surprised if I let my Norwegian heritage come through in my stories.
Go Vikings! You betcha!
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