Albert Camus

Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.

Tuesday, November 6, 2018

he won’t torch his future again - Rancher in Training by Marie Johnston

Crossing paths on duty is one thing, but seeing how good Jesse is with his hands threatens everything she’s ever worked for. But Farah’s not the only one taking a risk, and he won’t torch his future again, even if it means leaving her in his rearview mirror for good.


Published: October 29th, 2018

Deputy Farah James arrests bad boys, she doesn’t date them. So when an ex-con with a fiery past returns to town, she ignores the criminal things he does to her pulse. Behind bars, Jesse Rodriguez and his wicked looks were easy to dismiss, but as a free man with a life to reclaim, he’s never been more dangerous to her—or her job and the ranch that depends on her paycheck.

When stopping to help a stranded motorist puts Jesse on the radar of the local deputy, for once, he doesn’t complain. After all, Farah’s just as cute as he remembers. Too bad she’s also an icy professional who doubts he’s a changed man. He’s willing to give her up as a lost cause and make his way out of town…until an accident strands him at the ranch next door.

Crossing paths on duty is one thing, but seeing how good Jesse is with his hands threatens everything she’s ever worked for. But Farah’s not the only one taking a risk, and he won’t torch his future again, even if it means leaving her in his rearview mirror for good.


He stopped at the auto-parts store. They should have a battery and fewer people than the super-sized department store in town. Grabbing his ball cap from the bench seat in the back of the cab, he tucked it low on his head. It was a crappy disguise, but maybe it’d get him in and out of the store without suspicion.
He strode in, Caleb’s cash in hand. Selecting the lowest-end battery like Caleb had asked, he carried it to the cash register. Thankfully no one was in line.
Keeping his head down, he paid, passed on his thanks without meeting the man’s eyes, and strode out. He breathed a sigh of relief as he crawled back into his truck. Getting out of Moore might just go smoothly.
Back at Caleb’s truck, Jesse parked and grabbed an adjustable wrench to change the batteries. He carried the new one over, opened the hood up, and went about removing and brushing off the corroded posts.
The breeze kept him cool while the sun beat down on his back. A guy could get used to this. Even this simple act was a Zen moment. He didn’t know if it was working outside or having his hands busy in an engine again that did it.
An engine approached. He planned to ignore it—until it slowed down. Why couldn’t he be the only Good Samaritan on the road today? He straightened and nailed his head on the hood, knocking his cap from his head. It tumbled to the ground as he swore and rubbed the back of his head.
As he bent to pick up the cap, he caught sight of the car that had stopped.
A patrol car.
He was buried in a vehicle that didn’t belong to him and he wasn’t from around here, but that was the least of his troubles. His heart hammered as he stepped to the side, bringing him into the driving lane. He raised his hands out to the side and squinted at the cop car.
He was in the county, so it was either the sheriff or a deputy who’d stopped. The light bar was flashing, but its brightness was lost in the vibrant day.
The door opened. He mentally practiced his explanation. Stuttering over his story wouldn’t help him.
Someone was getting out. The glimpse of flaxen hair underneath the brown hat almost stopped his heart.
No. It couldn’t be. Didn’t she work at the jail?
She had to clear the door for him to get a good view of her petite frame. The weapons belt clung to her hips like he’d dreamed of doing, only he’d hug them better than the bulky belt. A tactical vest, probably bulletproof, covered her torso, and his first thought was that it wasn’t enough to protect her, even though it swamped her delicate frame. Cop gear must not be made for the feminine body. And he’d rather see her in head-to-toe body armor.
Farah James’s steely gaze punched into him, then widened.
“When’d they let you out of the jail?” he asked, missing the irony before he said the words.
Her gaze narrowed, her pink lips pursing. “When’d they let you out of prison?”

About the author:
Marie Johnston is an award-winning writer of paranormal and contemporary romance, and a RITA® Finalist. Marie decided to pursue her passion for writing and traded in her lab coat for a laptop to write her first book ever, Fever Claim. She lives in the upper Midwest with her husband, four kids, and two kittens. Other than hanging out with her family, Marie enjoys reading, movie dates with her hubby, getting outside on sunny days, and the all too rare - girls' night out.

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Wendy Hutton said...

thanks this books sounds great good luck

Rita Wray said...

Sounds like a good read.

Becky Richardson said...

Beautiful cover.

Debra Branigan said...

Like the cover and sounds like an enjoyable read. Good luck with the book.

Bridgett wilbur said...

I just loved todays post.