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Happy Trail, an all-new opposites attract standalone romance from USA Today bestselling author Daisy Prescott, is available now!

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Happy Trail

Park Ranger series

by Daisy Prescott

Blurb:

A man of few words, Ranger Jay Daniels values the calm, quiet solitude of the Great Smoky Mountains. Never quite fitting in with either side of his family, he prefers the company of birds and trees to people.

Yeah, heโ€™d most definitely prefer a birdโ€”any bird, any bird at all, take a vulture for instanceโ€”to the human-tornado hybrid that just blew onto his peaceful stretch of the Appalachian Trail.

The path of true love never has run smooth for Olive Perry. After getting dumped and promptly abandoned in the middle of her multi-month hike, Olive swears off men. Determined to finish the long trek by herself, she doesnโ€™t need a princeโ€”or broody and taciturn rangerโ€”to save her.

Yet, when an early snowstorm threatens the mountains, and Ranger Daniels is charged with getting hikers to safety, that includes hot-tempered Olive Perry. Snowed in and forced to share an abandoned cabin, can Oliveโ€™s heated intensity melt Jayโ€™s cool reserve?

And if so, will this happy trail lead to true love? Or will their time together be just another bump in the road?

‘Happy Trail’ is a full-length contemporary romantic comedy, can be read as a standalone, and is book#1 in the Park Ranger series.

Download today!

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Excerpt:

โ€œCan we drop the pretense of not being trapped on the wrong side of the fence with whatever bloodthirsty beast is making such a sound?โ€ I squint into the distance, hoping narrowing my eyes will give me super strength vision.

It doesnโ€™t. I step behind Ranger Daniels for protection.

โ€œWhat are you doing?โ€ He twists his neck to look down at me.

โ€œHiding. I believe you took an oath to protect and serve.โ€

โ€œPfft. Youโ€™re confusing me with a police officer. Iโ€™m here to engage, educate, and empower.โ€ He moves so heโ€™s beside me.

โ€œYou carry a gun, donโ€™t you?โ€

โ€œSometimes. Do you see a holster now?โ€

I scan his hips and shake my head, allowing my eyes to linger on the tight fit of his uniform pants over his strong thighs and the thick belt at his narrow waist. Ranger Daniels is packing heat, but not of the pistol variety.

Is it hot in here, or is it just me?

A distinct braying reaches my ears.

โ€œIs that a donkey?โ€ I tip my head.

โ€œWhat would a donkey be doing up here? Makes no sense.โ€

โ€œAsk him. Or her.โ€ I point at the gray beast moving toward us. โ€œIโ€™m a city girl, but Iโ€™m pretty sure thatโ€™s an ass.โ€

โ€œWell, Iโ€™ll be damned.โ€ Jay removes his hat.

Maybe he plans to shoo away our attacker with it?

The gray form ambles toward us, letting out a loud bray and revealing large teeth.

โ€œShould we be worried?โ€ Iโ€™m standing behind Jay again.

โ€œAbout a donkey? Theyโ€™re mostly docile. Heโ€™s probably just curious.โ€ Shifting his attention forward, he addresses our new friend. โ€œHey there. Whereโ€™d you come from?โ€

The donkey halts.

โ€œSee? Heโ€™s fine. Probably thinks weโ€™re bringing treats.โ€

โ€œAnd what will he do when he realizes weโ€™re showing up to his house empty-handed?โ€ Iโ€™m half mocking. In my world, not bringing a hostess gift is an unthinkable breach of etiquette. I have no idea about the social decorum for equines.

โ€œLetโ€™s go.โ€ Jay encourages me forward with a sweep of his hat.

We take several steps and the donkey does the same without breaking eye contact, like weโ€™re about to duel. Thereโ€™s definitely a challenge, a mild threat in the eyes of our new foe.

โ€œShould we slowly retreat to the fence?โ€ I whisper at Jayโ€™s back.

โ€œNah, weโ€™re fine.โ€

โ€œMaybe heโ€™s a guard donkey.โ€ I slide a glance over my shoulder toward safety. Weโ€™re a dozen or so yards away, but it isnโ€™t too late to make a quick escape.

Jayโ€™s eyes meet mine. โ€œYou know guard donkeys arenโ€™t a thing.โ€

โ€œIโ€™m a stranger in a strange landโ€”anythingโ€™s possible.โ€ I wait until he faces forward to stick my tongue out at him.

Heโ€™s shaking his head and clearly not paying attention to me anymore as he stomps across the squishy field.

Left with no choice, I follow after him.

My boot slips in the mud, or donkey poopโ€”itโ€™s impossible to tell the difference. I squawk and flail my arms as I tumble forward in an awkward motion resembling the mating dance of an emu.

The donkeyโ€™s ears prick up before flattening against his head.

โ€œUh oh,โ€ I murmur as I straighten up.

โ€œItโ€™s fine,โ€ Jay says for the dozenth time.

Only heโ€™s wrong.

*****

Author Info:

Born and raised in San Diego, Daisy currently lives in a real life Stars Hollow in the Boston suburbs with her husband, their rescue dog, Mulder, and an imaginary house goat. When not writing about herself in the third person, Daisy can be found traveling, gardening, baking, or lost in a good book.

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