Get Hooked on Cassie’s Hope #MFRWhooks

Love cowboys? Love horses? Love a little mystery and some sizzling romance? Readers are loving Cassie’s Hope, Book One in our Riders Up series set in the horse racing industry, and hubs and I love our new cover, designed by Rebecca Poole of Dreams2Media.com.

Click on the graphic at the bottom to travel to the rest of today’s fabulous Book Hooks – you’ll be glad you did!

REVIEWS

Here’s what readers are saying – five stars at Amazon and Goodreads!

“I took their journey with them. I felt their pain, their sadness, their struggles, and most of all their love. And that is the mark of a truly good book.” Faith H.

“Extremely well written and very entertaining to read. Real life hopes and dreams becoming a reality. This story really moved me.” Donna H.

“I loved Cassie and Clint. These two stubborn, prideful people remind me of Darcy and Elizabeth Bennett…Cassie’s Hope is the first book of a series. I cannot wait to read the rest of the books” Sheila G.

BUY LINK

Amazon.com

BLURB

What happens when a fiercely loyal widowed half-Ute cowboy meets a fiery redhead with an Irish temper to match? Cassidy O’Hanlon – Cassie, to her friends – has set aside her Chicago career for six months to train racehorses for her dad after his stroke.

Furious the interloper has shipped in a ringer from the Chicago circuit to his Wyoming turf, Rancher/trainer Clint Travers sets out to put her in her place. Sparks fly immediately, but after their rocky start, the two quickly forge a passionate relationship, and he follows her to Chicago.

When it becomes clear someone is drugging Cassie’s horse, Clint sets out to solve the mystery, but storms off in a cloud of wounded pride when suspicions turn to him.

Can love trump pride?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Here’s the moment Cassie first meets Clint, at Wyoming Downs:

EXCERPT

Shaking her head, Cassie grabbed a hoof pick from her back pocket, lifted one of Hope’s front hooves, and began extracting dirt and pebbles.

“Nice lookin’ filly.”

Cassie groaned at the strange deep voice and the too-familiar line. Couldn’t men anywhere be a little more original?

Dropping the hoof, Cassie glanced across Hope’s back and gasped. The deeply tanned hunk behind the voice had shoulders that stretched taut a pale yellow polo shirt covered, in part, with a thin buckskin vest. The wide cowboy buckle appeared unnecessary to hold up well contoured Levi’s. A sweat-stained brown Stetson, tipped low, cast a light shadow across his facial features. His worn boots were those of a working man. This was no drugstore cowboy.

He stepped closer. She could make out a scowl. Dark eyes snapped a foreboding anger. Raven black hair framed chiseled features, searing them into Cassie’s brain. Her toes curled involuntarily. She rubbed Hope’s coat vigorously. Who the hell was he? And to top it off, he didn’t even seem to notice her. His eyes appraised only the horse.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, ducking down by Hope’s flank.

The handsome stranger walked around the horse. “Very nice,” he drawled at last.