Riding Rodeo

Now available at The Wild Rose Press, Barnes & Noble, Amazon and All Romance Ebooks

“…If you are into cowboys who can perform both on the circuit and in the bedroom then you want to check this out. The story is good, the writing believable and the characters wonderfully addictive – you absolutely must read the whole novella to see how this gonna end…” ~ Niina at For the Love of Reading

The last person Amanda Goodson expected to walk into her bakery was Sean Cassidy, the bareback bronc rider who rode her hard one night and left without a good-bye the next day. Since then, she’d sworn off one-night stands and cowboys, but one look at the man she called Rodeo leaves her hankering for another ride.

A nasty injury ended Sean’s career and left him with nothing but time to contemplate past sins, especially the most damning one…walking out on Amanda, the one woman he couldn’t forget. Eager to right the biggest mistake of his life, he finds Amanda–and learns he has competition. Never one to back down from a challenge, he offers to fulfill her darkest fantasy–taking two cowboys for a ride.

When the dust settles, will Sean’s plan to win Amanda’s trust backfire or will she risk her heart for one more shot at Riding Rodeo?

Excerpt:

The bell over the door tinkled as a new customer entered the bakery. Amanda Goodson’s breath caught when she glanced over the shoulder of her current customer, elderly Mrs. Thompson. Bright afternoon sunshine from a beautiful late-spring day entered the storefront window and cast a delicious glow over the tastiest man Amanda had ever seen.

A navy blue T-shirt clung to broad shoulders, a muscled chest and six-pack abs. Brawny thighs strained the denim of a pair of faded jeans, and she knew from a previous encounter that the material hugged a firm ass.She licked her lips. The rodeo was back in town.Sean Cassidy winked when he noticed her gaze. He strode toward the counter with the same slow roll of his hips she remembered, his cowboy boots, polished to a high sheen, clomping against the slate floor with each step. The rhythmic tattoo of his sexy walk called to mind their one headboard-banging-against-the-wall sexual exploit.

Thud. Thud. Thud. She wasn’t sure if it was her heartbeat or echoes of her memory.

Sweat moistened her palms, but it wasn’t sweat tickling the insides of her thighs. Damn the man. He could still make her cream her panties even though their one-night stand happened more than a year ago—one year, six months, and some change, but who was counting?