Happy Trail, an all-new opposites attract standalone romance from USA Today bestselling author Daisy Prescott, is available now!
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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, heβd most definitely prefer a birdβany bird, any bird at all, take a vulture for instanceβto 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 doesnβt need a princeβor broody and taciturn rangerβto 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 Oliveβs heated intensity melt Jayβs 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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AppleBooks: https://apple.co/2lB3BJv
Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/HappyTrail
Nook: http://bit.ly/2m0VeXN
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2lEAwww
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Amazon Print: https://amzn.to/2ku05Al
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Excerpt:
βCan we drop the pretense of not being trapped on the wrong side of the fence with whatever bloodthirsty beast is making such a sound?β I squint into the distance, hoping narrowing my eyes will give me super strength vision.
It doesnβt. I step behind Ranger Daniels for protection.
βWhat are you doing?β He twists his neck to look down at me.
βHiding. I believe you took an oath to protect and serve.β
βPfft. Youβre confusing me with a police officer. Iβm here to engage, educate, and empower.β He moves so heβs beside me.
βYou carry a gun, donβt you?β
βSometimes. Do you see a holster now?β
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.
βIs that a donkey?β I tip my head.
βWhat would a donkey be doing up here? Makes no sense.β
βAsk him. Or her.β I point at the gray beast moving toward us. βIβm a city girl, but Iβm pretty sure thatβs an ass.β
βWell, Iβll be damned.β 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.
βShould we be worried?β Iβm standing behind Jay again.
βAbout a donkey? Theyβre mostly docile. Heβs probably just curious.β Shifting his attention forward, he addresses our new friend. βHey there. Whereβd you come from?β
The donkey halts.
βSee? Heβs fine. Probably thinks weβre bringing treats.β
βAnd what will he do when he realizes weβre showing up to his house empty-handed?β Iβm 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.
βLetβs go.β 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 weβre about to duel. Thereβs definitely a challenge, a mild threat in the eyes of our new foe.
βShould we slowly retreat to the fence?β I whisper at Jayβs back.
βNah, weβre fine.β
βMaybe heβs a guard donkey.β I slide a glance over my shoulder toward safety. Weβre a dozen or so yards away, but it isnβt too late to make a quick escape.
Jayβs eyes meet mine. βYou know guard donkeys arenβt a thing.β
βIβm a stranger in a strange landβanythingβs possible.β I wait until he faces forward to stick my tongue out at him.
Heβs 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 poopβitβs 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 donkeyβs ears prick up before flattening against his head.
βUh oh,β I murmur as I straighten up.
βItβs fine,β Jay says for the dozenth time.
Only heβs wrong.
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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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