Hi Dear Reader!
I hope this finds you well. I apologize for missing last week and being late this week. Somehow it seems I have the best intentions to write to you on time, but things always seem to pop up. For example, when I went to add the next chapter last week, my computer deleted all of my files. The folder I usually kept them in was blank. After a brief bout of panic and staring dumbly at my computer, I went searching for the files. I had hoped that I had backed them up to the cloud, somewhere. It took a couple of days, but I found the current copy saved online. Thank goodness! Technology can be very frustrating!
This week, I have some good books to share with you and a couple of promotions if you are looking to fill your e-reader. At the end of the email, I’ll have the next chapter of Delilah and Kade’s story.
This book is my next comfort read. It looks really cute and funny. Have you read anything by this author?
Book Blurb:
From bestselling author Kristin Canary comes a series filled with laughs, friendship goals, and the swooniest book boyfriends imaginable ...
Connor is the last guy in the world I should fall for.
He's the resident office flirt. I'm the quirky Pride & Prejudice-loving editor who uses big words and dresses like the world's non-sexiest librarian. We have nothing in common. Plus, we're competitors for the same job.
Fine by me. I'm happy to hold him at arms' length forever. And considering I'm practically the only woman in the office he's never flirted with, he's obviously happy to do the same.
But then, everything changes.
Because when we're stuck overnight in our office building thanks to an earthquake-induced landslide, I begin to realize that Connor isn't actually the jerk I thought he was—the kind who leads women on, just like my ex.
And when he offers to attend my ex's wedding as my fake boyfriend, things get even more interesting. Especially when he gives me that much-too-chaste kiss...
But I can't fall for him.
That would be repeating the same mistake, just with a different guy. Tell that to my dumb heart, though—the one that seems to think Connor Bryant is my Mr. Darcy.
Perfect for fans of:
✔️flirtatious banter
✔️office romances between competitors
✔️charming “bad boys” who are secret cinnamon rolls
✔️quirky bookish heroines
✔️Pride & Prejudice references
✔️fake relationships
✔️forced proximity
Loving the Ladies’ Man is Book 1 in the California Dreamin’ sweet romantic comedy series, where a group of roommates and friends find their perfect matches and support one another like crazy. This single-POV novel is filled with all the sizzling romantic tension and swoons possible without on-page intimacy.
Here are some promos that are going on right now. Maybe, you’ll find one that you like. There are a lot of good books in these groups. I’m definitely going to find some new authors to read!
Now on to the good stuff! Here is chapter 4 of Second Chance with My Bull Rider. If you are just joining us, you can read Chapter 1 below.
Chapter 4 August 11th
Kade
My backside ached. That was a new development in the last week since the accident and the reconstructive surgery to fix my shattered leg. I tallied my aches and pains: my leg hurt, breathing hurt, sitting hurt, and any moving at all left me breathless for several minutes. At least, the headache went away and so did the blurry vision. Dr. Glanders, my orthopedic surgeon, said the broken bones would take eight weeks to heal, the reconstructive surgery on my ligaments would take sixteen weeks, and my ribs would be at least eight weeks. It was going to be a long recovery, and I hated every moment of my current situation. I rang the little bell beside my recliner and waited for what seemed like forever until a little Hispanic woman bustled into my room.
“I needed you ten minutes ago,” I growled and she cringed away from me. The black mood that controlled me rejoiced in her fear. “This chair is uncomfortable. Bring me a different one.”
She nodded as she backed out of the room. The darkness of the room settled on my soul. The docs said I wouldn’t be ready to ride at the Bull Riding Finals in November, if ever again. Three months away from living my dream, the accumulation of all the years of scratching it out in dirty hotels, poor arenas, and long days on the road. One ride and everything was torn away from me. I threw my glass of water against the wall. The glass shattered with a loud crash. The door whipped open and slammed against the wall. Kaleb’s large frame blocked out the light from the hallway.
“What’s going on in here?” He demanded. His eyes roved from me to the fragments glittering on the floor. “Was that necessary?”
“The woman has not brought me a new chair.”
“All of this over your butt hurting.” He stalked closer to me. His brows pulled down over his eyes. “The family’s bull riding golden boy throws a fit when his backside hurts so much that he has to smash things like a two-year-old.”
“It’s uncomfortable.” I ground out.
“Deal with it.” He turned to go.
“Is she bringing another chair?”
“No, she quit.” He tossed over his shoulder before leaving the room.
I swore under my breath. My body rocked from cheek to cheek, seeking comfort. I slouched and tried to sit up straight. No relief was found. I grabbed a couple of pain killers, swallowing them dry. The glow from the TV dimly lit the room as cowboys rode their horses across the screen. My eyelids got heavy, and I reclined back into the chair, drifting off to sleep.
The house was quiet when I woke back up. The TV was still playing. This time, John Wayne raced through a field shooting off rifles in each hand like the legend he was. I straightened in my chair, grimacing as the pain came back. My neck cricked with the way I fell asleep. I rolled my neck and shoulder, gently, trying to work out the tension. My bladder begged to be empty, but there was no way I was calling Kaleb. He would do his big brother thing and make sure I knew how much I needed him, which I did not. I could go by myself without help from anyone.
I stretched to reach my crutches because the emasculating wheelchair sat in the corner, out of reach. I couldn’t get to it if I wanted to. With each armrest firmly tucked against my body, I took a step. The pain. It shot through me, leaving black spots covering my vision. My chest clenched as I drew in a ragged breath. I gritted my teeth and kept going. Step. Hop. Step. Hop. I was going to do it. Step. I swung the crutches forward.
The foot of one crutch hit the water still on the floor. As I transferred my weight forward from my good leg, the crutch slid out to the side. The next moment, I was sitting in a puddle of water. My boxers were soaked, my side hurt, and my legs pointed in opposite directions. The darkness spun around me as I tried to breathe through the pain. One breath in. One breath out. Grimacing, I repositioned my legs so I wasn’t doing the splits anymore, and I pushed up with my hands, but I couldn’t balance on my one good leg. I didn’t have the strength to get my body up as pain coursed through me. With a sigh of defeat, I laid back down.
I didn’t know how long I was like that before the door swung open in my room. A sliver of light fell across my eyes, causing me to shield them from the bright light.
“What are you doing on the floor?” Kaleb towered over me.
“Having a tea party. Wanna join?”
“Not particularly.” He wheeled the chair over to me. Grasping me at the armpits, he hoisted me into the chair. “You could’ve called.”
“Didn’t want to bother you.” The sarcastic tone colored my words.
“You can just say you’re sorry.” He muttered as he pushed the chair out of the room. “And maybe, ‘thanks for taking care of me, big brother.’” The chair rolled down the hardwood floors. One of the wheels squeaked. “I’ve had to give up things to help you.”
“Thank you, Kaleb.” What else could I say to that?
He grunted in response. “Use your chair next time.”
I hated that chair.
Author’s Note: Kade is getting to be a pain at this point. He is having a hard time accepting what is happening to him. I promise it will get better! Just wait until Delilah shows up!
Thanks for reading. As always, I’d love comments on the story or anything else. Hugs,
Allie
As I approach 104k emails in my inbox, I am not at all distressed if you don't send your newsletter on time. It is possible I am not the only one in this situation. I know the Marketeers press you for keeping in constant touch with your readers, but they also charge you for sending all those emails. Breathe easy. Unless you've discovered the secret to world peace, whatever you have to say will probably be just as relevant (or not) a week (or a month) from now. Have a blessed day.