COWBOY FOR SALE--A Second-Chances Spicy Romance

by Janet Wellington

  Elizabeth lost her own battle with AIDS in 1994, and to honor her legacy, the Pediatric AIDS Foundation was renamed the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation (EGPAF). Under this name, EGPAF has become the leading global nonprofit organization dedicated to preventing pediatric HIV infection and eliminating pediatric AIDS through research, advocacy, and prevention and treatment programs.

  Elizabeth’s legacy lives on in her son, Jake, who is now a healthy young adult.

  "I consider myself very lucky. Thanks to my mom and the work of many others, I am able to lead a normal and productive life. But there are still so many kids, many of them my close friends, who are not as lucky. The truth is we are far from done in the fight against AIDS, and there are a lot of kids out there who need our help in order to survive. That's why research is more important today than ever. It is the key to finding a vaccine, and ultimately, a cure. And we cannot afford to wait.”

  Jake Glaser is the son of Elizabeth Glaser and a healthy HIV-positive young adult.

  Click on this link to learn more and to watch videos:

  http://www.pedaids.org/pages/elizabeths-story

  Here is where the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation is working:

  Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation

  Dear Reader:

  I have a confession to make…

  COWBOY FOR SALE is my version of a Hollywood movie remake!

  Let me explain…

  This story (the plot) is the same basic story of my very first romance sale, BACHELOR FOR SALE, which was the second manuscript I wrote, and my very first print sale.

  BACHELOR FOR SALE was published in 1998 as a Kensington Precious Gem, romances available only at Walmart Stores.

  I still remember the day it sold and listening to the message on the answering machine. It was then Kensington editor Hilary Sares telling me she wanted to buy my manuscript!

  Yes, I screamed and jumped up and down—it was such a fun experience!!!

  Here’s the cover, well, the book itself and the first dollar I made when I cashed my advance—it’s a shadow box that hangs on my wall near my desk to remind me that dreams do come true…

  When my rights were returned to me, I later resold the same manuscript to Thorndike Large Print. Here is the hardcover version, published in 2006:

  I love this story, so when I decided to give it yet another life, the first thing I did was re-read it.

  What I discovered was that the story needed a remake!

  So, I revised pretty much every page…changed some names and ages, fleshed out the main characters A LOT, changed some of the details, and modernized it.

  The other thing I realized was, well, that I am a better writer now. The style back in 1998 was what is called “head-hopping” point of view (where the reader is in and out of each character’s head, even on the same page—even, sometimes, in the same paragraph!).

  I no longer write in that style, so I knew I would need to do a heavy revision.

  The end result is a story that is reminiscent of BACHELOR FOR SALE, but so much better! I fell in love with these revised characters as I worked with them, and they seemed so different that I decided they deserved their own title too!

  So, now they reside within the pages of COWBOY FOR SALE.

  Enjoy!

  I love to hear from readers, so feel free to send me a note. And if you’d like to be on my once-in-a-while contact list, please email me….mail@janetwellington.com

  Or sign up at my Facebook page

  https://www.facebook.com/JanetWellingtonBooks

  That’s all for now,

  Janet Wellington

  Other books by Janet Wellington:

  As of October 2013:

  4.6 out of 5 stars on Amazon!

  Over 170 5-star reviews!

  Cory Richards left her cheating husband behind and headed straight back to tiny Faythe, Wisconsin, eager to create a new future for herself. First order of business, keep her promise to a dear friend and finish the renovation on the Victorian for dearly departed Tillie and find homes for her nine cats. How tough could that be? But when Tillie’s great-nephew shows up to help, it’s all she can do not to fall right back into his arms. She's been down that heartbreak road with him before, and coming off her recent divorce she's determined to guard her heart, no matter how sexy he looks with a hammer in his hand and his shirt off.

  Jake is caught between a rock and a hard place. Well, between his party-hearty, successful big city life in Chicago and the sleepy hometown he was glad to see in his rear-view mirror at the tender age of 18. He plans to fulfill his promise to Tillie and help restore her house to get it ready to sell, then return to his comfortable life in Chicago. But how is he supposed to get any work done with pretty little Cory around doing her best to drive him crazy? Being in Faythe kindles all those long forgotten memories, some bad and some good--including his desire for Cory, the one girl he couldn’t have.

  As the sexual tension between Cory and Jake heightens and their emotional connection strengthens, will they let down their barriers long enough to find true love, or will the pain of the past keep them apart forever?

  Read the first 3 chapters on my website HERE

  or jump to read the excerpt at the end of this ebook: Excerpt HOMECOMING

  Click here to buy

  As of October 12, 2013

  4.5 out of 5 stars on Amazon!

  Over 30 5-star reviews!

  The past is a funny thing. We think we can run from it, hide it, even change it in the eyes of others. But, with hard work we don’t have to be trapped by it, and maybe, just maybe, it’s there to teach us.

  Angie Fletcher has everything under control, especially her past. She’s worked hard to put her Midwest farmer’s daughter image behind her, happily replacing it with a move to San Diego and landing her dream job as an up and coming TV reporter. She even has a wonderful fiancé, someone who totally understands her and her career goals. Sure, they’ve hit a couple speed bumps--the fact that he’s allergic to her cats and flowers, but, hey, they’ll work it out, right? Everything is smooth sailing until she’s assigned to cover a community gardening project--definitely not the hard news assignment she’s been hoping for. Then she meets long-haired, devastatingly handsome and mysterious Jason Macdonald. How is she supposed to deal with a guy whose casual touch makes her stomach do somersaults?

  Jason Macdonald has thrown his heart and soul into his new business--helping urban neighborhoods reclaim land and create thriving community gardens. It’s a far cry from his former type-A life when he ran an exclusive landscape architect business. He’s done with the frantic pace of working 24/7 and especially women who are career driven over everything else. He’s put his past behind him, including some heartaches that will never heal...he’s finally found his own patch of paradise and loves the new business he’s in. When he learns the new KSUN reporter is resisting covering his new business, he’s ready to set her straight. She’s everything he expects--type-A all the way...but he also suspects she’s hiding something. When she lets her guard down, he sees a glimpse of the real Angie. But what is she hiding...and why does he care so much?

  As their attraction builds and they continue to work together, will Angie and Jason each face their pasts in order to open up their hearts to an unexpected future?

  Read the first 3 chapters on my website HERE

  or jump to read the excerpt at the end of this ebook s:Excerpt UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL

  Click here to buy!

  I hope you’ll check out my author page on Facebook at:

  https://www.facebook.com/JanetWellingtonBooks

  You can sign up for my newsletter there (and, every Friday is PIE DAY!)!

  Or to stay in touch and receive book announcements, just email me at:

  mail@janetwellington.com

  Excerpt/Homecoming

  Chapter One

  Just because you’re moving fast doesn’t mean you’re going somewhere.

 
Jake Randall shifted his gaze away from the bumper sticker prominently displayed on the older-than-dirt Dodge Dart that crept along in front of him on the two-lane road. He’d been stuck behind it in a no-passing zone for what seemed like an hour, though it had only been a torture of ten minutes at most.

  Rubbing his jaw to force himself to stop grinding his teeth, he glanced at the gas gauge and then his Rolex. A quarter of a tank left, and it was already past eleven. It would be close to midnight by the time he pulled into Faythe. Just enough gas, but about four hours later than he’d planned. Aunt Tillie would be in bed.

  A flashing turn signal finally brought deliverance and the Dodge slowed almost to a stop to turn into a narrow driveway. Jake pulled around the car, then pressed the gas pedal down and reset the cruise control.

  The speed soothed him; he was in very familiar territory and his whole body felt like it was in gear. He took the curves fast and it was almost as though his body had a kind of cellular memory of the road even though he hadn’t driven it for thirteen years.

  As he glanced out the window a sign welcomed him back to Door County Peninsula, then he checked his mirrors. No headlights or taillights as far as he could see. The way he figured it, there was an excellent chance the county sheriff was home in bed, his radio crackling on the nightstand. He’d avoided many speeding tickets in his youth simply by being aware--aware of his surroundings, aware of speed traps, and aware of his talent for talking his way out of trouble.

  Inhaling deeply, with every breath he felt himself begin to let go--just a little--of some of the built-up tension he held so tightly. The night air he breathed in was crisp and filled with the fragrance of pine trees, moist from the waters of nearby Green Bay, Lake Michigan a mere seven miles due east.

  He ripped past the entrance to Peninsula State Park, then continued northeast on Highway 42. Though no sign told him so, he knew it was another thirteen and a half miles. Faythe had always been too insignificant to even be on the state map, let alone any roadside mileage sign.

  As he neared the city limits, a shiny new billboard welcomed him to Faythe, Wisconsin. The simple painted sign of his youth had been replaced by a large sign painted forest green with bright white letters, complete with a single spotlight illuminating it.

  Nice try.

  Tourists typically didn’t even think of stopping in the small town. Most were too eager to either get to the end of the peninsula if they were headed north, or down to Sturgeon Bay if they were headed south. If you had no reason to stop, you could easily forget the town was even there.

  Jake decelerated on Main Street. His memory of downtown Faythe was of several blocks of absolutely nothing.

  The drug store was still there. A professionally lettered sign said: April Special: Root Beer Floats. Two for One. The old hardware store looked exactly the same, its large front window filled with tool displays and a pile of plumbing parts. On the next few blocks he noticed the addition of an upscale gift store, with a prominent “local artists and craftsmen wanted” sign in the window, and, surprisingly, an art gallery and several antique stores. Freshly striped parking spaces sat in front of all the chic storefronts and there was a new sense of vitality where there had only been disrepair in his youth.

  Just past the main drag the houses seemed well maintained, yards neatly mowed and sidewalks swept clean. It was a pretty safe bet most of the properties were still owned by the same families. In Faythe, sons and daughters who’d left were expected to return and live in their childhood houses after their parents died. It was tradition.

  Slowing to a stop, he turned left on his great-aunt’s street. Her house was the largest and oldest Victorian on the block and she’d taken pride in keeping it period inside and out. As a child he’d been reluctant to sit on the antique sofas and chairs, but she’d always insisted he treat the house as his home away from home. And her house had indeed been a refuge, probably the only way he’d survived his childhood in one piece.

  As he pulled into her driveway he turned off the engine and the lights, then coasted to a stop. Every window of the old house was dark. He listened to the quiet, then tipped his head out the window to look at the night sky. It was dazzling compared to the Chicago sky he’d grown accustomed to, and he picked out some of the constellations Tillie had taught him. If you ever feel lost, just find the North Star and you’ll know the way home. She’d been patient with him and he’d soaked up the mythic stories she’d taught him of the stars and planets. It would be so good to see her again, and, for the first time in a long time, in Faythe.

  As he glanced again at the front of the house, a light came on upstairs. In a few moments, another one downstairs.

  She was awake.

  A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, knowing he’d soon be sleeping soundly in the guest room after all. He watched as a shadow moved past the parlor window, his great-aunt checking to see who was in her driveway at such an ungodly hour.

  Jake got out of the car and made his way up the front walkway, then climbed the creaking front porch steps and stopped in front of the door, listening. First he tried the door bell. Not a sound. Probably one of his first repair jobs on the long list he knew she’d have waiting for him.

  Though it would be difficult to slow down--he hadn’t taken a real break from working in over ten years--he was determined to honor his great-aunt’s wishes. And her plea to him for help was the one and only thing that had the power to bring him back to the town he’d tried so hard to forget.

  And besides, the Stuart advertising campaign was well ahead of schedule thanks to his recent round-the-clock attention. He had a long history of coming up with award winning ideas for their line of luxury hotels--they could certainly coast for a couple of weeks. Think Tank owed him that and, more importantly, he owed Aunt Tillie. She’d offered him a lifeline when he was young, and if all she wanted was some help with her old Victorian, he was happy to do what he could to help her get the house ready to sell. He’d simply keep to himself and be back in Chicago as quickly as humanly possible.

  He tapped with his knuckles on the beveled window glass of the front door and in a few seconds, the porch light came on.

  “Aunt Tillie? Aunt Tillie, it’s me, Jake,” he said. “If you’d ever get a phone I could have called...and I’m sorry it’s so late, but I--”

  The door opened a crack and a flash of orange streaked past his ankles, down the steps and into the front yard, straight toward the maple tree.

  “Oh, no!”

  The voice belonged to a young woman who appeared in the doorway as the door opened wide.

  “Max!”

  The woman stepped out the door and pushed past him, strands of her long curls whispering against his bare arm as she ran down the steps. Jake took a step backward and turned to watch.

  The woman’s thin, white gown revealed the silhouette of every sumptuous curve of her petite body, and her reddish-brown hair cascaded to the middle of her back, dancing as she raced after the cat. Jake stared as the woman stood under the maple tree with her arms extended, calling softly.

  “Max...Max...it’s okay...but you have to come down...” When the cat climbed higher in the tree, the woman spun around to face him.

  Jake turned away from her and leaned his head inside the front door. Whoever this night nymph was, he had a feeling he’d definitely need his great-aunt to identify him.

  “Are you just going to stand there?” The irritation in the woman’s voice pulled his attention back to her. Her eyes narrowed as she placed her hands indignantly on her round hips. The effect of the full moon on her gown left even less to his imagination and he forced his gaze away from her body to meet her glare. And although her expression certainly defied it, she was nothing but angelic in the silvery glow of the moonlight.

  “What?” In his mesmerized state, he couldn’t think of a single thing to say to her.

  From her stance by the tree, the woman continued to stare at him, but now seemed as if she were evaluating hi
m. Her ill-humored expression softened a degree.

  Finally she spoke in a measured tone, “Would you please come over here? You’re probably tall enough to reach him.”

  Jake closed the front door against any additional potential feline runaways, then walked down the steps to join her. Again he forced his gaze away from her fluttering gown, this time to the long-haired orange cat who sat calmly looking down at them from a thick branch.

  “Can you reach him?” she asked.

  “Nope. Got a ladder or a stool or something?” Jake stared at the cat who yawned as though he was already getting bored with the game he’d started.

  “I’ll get a chair off the porch,” she said, twirling around and walking briskly past him. Again her long curls brushed his arm, this time leaving a scent of lilacs in the air.

  Jake held both hands up toward the cat. “You better come down, Max. This lady’s not in such a lovely mood--”

  To Jake’s amazement, the cat eased down the tree trunk, then stepped with great care onto a lower branch and finally into Jake’s arms. There he relaxed, nuzzled his nose into the bend of Jake’s elbow and began to purr.

  “How did you do that?”

  Jake turned to the woman and shrugged his shoulders. “We’re old friends. I didn’t think he’d remember me.” She stood in front of him holding an antique ladder-back chair to her chest, her dark eyes fixed on his.