Hailey
I’m a romance novelist who no longer believes in love.
My agent keeps calling it writer’s block, but I think what I have is more permanent. If I no longer believe in love, how can I continue to write books about it? Still, I take her suggestion to figure something out and find myself in Whiskey Valley at a ranch to get some firsthand knowledge of what cowboys really do. I am not prepared for the level of male hotness that greets me. Griffin is rough and tough and growly, but I catch glimpses of his tender underbelly that has even my iced-over heart melting a little.
Griffin
I’m a wounded warrior trying to learn to live again.
I don’t particularly want to show the city girl writer around our ranch. But at least I get to follow behind her and watch her curves swing as she walks. She could definitely bring all the bulls to her yard. I expect her to ask her questions and leave. I don’t expect to want to open up to her and share some of the wounds I came home with. And I sure as hell don’t expect to want to keep her.