Kindle Edition
Amazon
Darryl Sollerh
Lulu,com
Kindle
Category:
Romance
ISBN-10: 9780988725492
Price: $2.99 (eBook)
"HIGHLY RECOMMENDED...A STORY THAT WILL STAY WITH YOU A LONG TIME." READERS' FAVORITE REVIEWS -- and now a READERS' FAVORITE AWARD FINALIST
A bucking-bronco of a romance about a rodeo cowboy with a saddle-bag full of unrealized dreams who, after being injured in a freak accident, is forced to hire the only person he can afford, namely a smart but struggling East Indian physical therapist surviving here on an expired visa.
When Billy, a down-on-his-luck rodeo rider with a saddle-bag full of unrealized dreams wakes up in an emergency room to find both his legs have been broken in a freak accident, he thinks his life is over. Which is exactly how Mira, a smart, beautiful, East-Indian-bred physical therapist feels, barely surviving here on an expired visa against her family's wishes, watching her dreams fade like a Texas sunset. Yet this is exactly how Billy and Mira end up in a shotgun relationship of necessity -- each feeling hog-tied by circumstances, each hellbent to find a new reason to hope -- only to soon find themselves battling each other, confusing, rattling and exposing them in ways they would have never dreamed possible -- all so a cowboy and Indian can finally discover a fierce, raw love capable of winning their wily but true hearts.
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Excerpt
...It’s a crowded, dusty day at the local Fair grounds, busy with ranching families lining up for noisy carnival rides, colorful arcade games and deep-fried Twinkies.
The main attraction, a rodeo ring surrounded by temporary bleachers, is brimming with cowboy hats, well-worn leather boots and beers.
As honky-tonk tunes crackle over a public address system, Ray leads Kooch, a sixty-some cowpoke pal with a crew-cut and pronounced paunch, down to their seats:
Front row, Ray?
Wanna be able ta see him, don't ya?
The ring announcer shuts off the music to say:
Next up, folks, we got Billy Wilks from Grand Prairie. Time ta beat is 5.9 seconds, so best of luck there, Billy.
Billy doesn’t hear his name over the PA system because he’s staring down at the massive, twitching back of an angry bull, only temporarily slowed by the metal-gated chute.
Joe, a seasoned wrangler, straddles the gate over to Billy:
Hey, Billy. How do?
'Nother day at the office, Joe.
As Joe helps Billy slide down onto the bull’s muscular back, it jerks violently, rattling the rails with its impossible power.
Joe shrugs:
He's been a little moody lately.
Ray and Kooch meanwhile are leaning forward their seats, squinting as they watch Billy from a distance:
Holy crap, Ray, he drew Wild Child.
Ray looks over as Koch shakes his head:
Moodiest sumbitch bull they got. And that’s on a good day.
As Ray looks back at Billy, filling with concern as Billy, all business now, winds a leather strip around his leather-gloved right hand, securing it to the horn of Wild Child's harness.
He then tucks the end under his thumb and clamps down, testing it.
Satisfied, he nods to Joe.
Joe then signals to the announcer up on a perch that Billy’s ready to go.
A moment later, a horn blares and the chute swings open, releasing Wild Child like an explosion into the ring with Billy riding shotgun.
Wild Child instantly begins to kick, flailing his hind legs in an jaw-dropping display of terrifying strength, whip-lashing Billy like a rag doll as he hangs on for dear life – each furious second like a brain-rattling century – only to suddenly feel himself jettisoned ass-over-tea-kettle into the air, only to land headfirst with a head-crunching thud into the turf, inducing a communal groan from the gallery.
As Ray and Kooch leap to their feet, instinctively grimacing, rodeo clowns rush out to divert Wild Child’s angry attentions long enough for a pair of rescue cowboys to hurry over to Billy, lift him up, throws his arms over their shoulders and carry him to safety, dragging his toes in the thick sod.
In the stands, folks shake their heads, feeling Billy’s pain as the ring announcer expresses their wincing sentiments:
Whooie boy, is that ever gonna smart tomorrow. Better luck there next time, Billy.
Later, as Ray swats flies from his neck, Billy walks out from the makeshift First Aid tent with his arm in a sling and wearing a pair of those stupid-looking, disposable dark glasses that always follow a concussion exam.
Ray looks up, biting his tongue. But Billy knows that look:
Let's just go.
As they walk through the parking area, which looks like a used truck dealer lot, Ray ventures:
So what'd the nurse say?
She said I should have my head examined.
Ray can’t resist:
Now that's what I’ve always said.
As they arrive at Ray's old Ford pick-up, Billy takes a last look back at the colorful fair grounds:
Sally said she'd be here. Ya see her?
Ray shakes his head, glad he didn't see her.
Let's just go.
Climbing into Ray’s truck, Billy muses:
Why do I always draw the crazy ones?
Ray looks over, still on the subject of Sally:
Women?
Billy scowls:
Bulls!
Ray shrugs, well aware of Billy’s history when it comes to romance:
If I were you, Billy, I'd be more concerned about them women of yours...
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