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Cowboy Country Christmas by Gail MacMillan

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  • Cowboy Country Connections

    Shy, introverted romance writer Etta Prescott is a huge fan of the number-one country singer Travis Masters, but she never dreamed she’d actually meet him, not until her twin sister gets involved. A trip to the Calgary Stampede and a romantic ride in the Alberta moonlight with handsome, affable Travis leads Etta to believe romance isn’t limited to other people or the pages of her books.
     
    Travis Masters has it all—successful singing career, top of the charts, scheduled European tour. But with all the women throwing themselves at him, he still hasn’t found the one who makes his heart sing. Not until one morning he happens on a young lady wanting to learn how to ride a horse. But why were a couple of Mounties escorting her and her sister to the airport? Getting involved with someone with a questionable reputation could ruin his clean country-boy image, as his gung-ho agent keeps reminding him…

    Rating: Sweet
    Page Count: 274
    Word Count: 68260
    978-1-5092-1678-9 Paperback
    978-1-5092-1679-6 Digital

    Excerpt

    “Hello.” He paused in front of her, wet bottle in hand. “Cinderella?”

    “What?” The word came out in what sounded to her a ridiculous squeak.

    “Cinderella. The girl from the round pen. The girl whose name I was too dumb to find out. I didn’t get a glass slipper…or even a running shoe, to help me find her again. You are her, right?”

    “I guess…yes.” His left hand holding the bottle had the jagged scar down its back that she remembered from the cowboy who’d given her a riding lesson.

    “Nice to see you again.” He extended his right hand. “I’m Travis Masters.”

    “I know.” She was only vaguely aware of accepting his offer, too astonished to feel any of the famous tingle she’d so often written about that occurred when her hero and heroine made their first physical contact.

    “And you’re…?” He was looking into her eyes, strangling speech in her throat.

    “Et…Etta Prescott. My name is actually Henrietta, but everyone calls me Etta.” Oh, damn, I’m stuttering…and rambling. Get a grip, Etta, get a grip. Tell yourself he’s only another good-looking guy.

    Not exactly. The disconcerting thought rattled around in her head. He’s Travis Masters, number one country singer, and you’re quite possibly his biggest fan.

    “You met everyone?” He waved his bottle around to indicate the crowd.

    “More than whose names I can keep straight.” This time she managed to speak coherently.

    Calm down, calm down. Ignore the fact of who he is. Imagine he’s only a nice person you happened to meet at a barbecue. You can do it. You’re good at imagining.

    “Hey, Travis, come and lend a hand,” his brother-in-law Jake Brooks hailed him. “There’s more food and drink to bring out of the house.”

    “Sorry, duty calls.” Travis gave a resigned shrug. “See you later.”

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Cowboy Country Christmas

Cowboy Country Christmas

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