Long and Short Reviews welcomes Teri Anne Stanley who is celebrating the upcoming release of Lucky Chance Cowboy, the second book in her Big Chance Dog Rescue series.
Enter the Rafflecopter at the end of the post for a chance to win a copy of Big Chance Cowboy, the first book in the series.

At Big Chance Dog Rescue, everyone can find a forever home

Marcus Talbott is a soldier through and through, and he’s not going to let an injury keep him from his Army unit. Sure, his last mission nearly broke his back, but that’s nothing his positive attitude and work ethic can’t fix, right? In the meantime, he’s got a place on the board at the Big Chance Dog Rescue, and flirting with his friend’s sassy sister, Emma, is a welcome distraction.

Emma Stern is barely scraping by while working and caring for her elderly grandfather, but she’s running out of options—and hope. The last thing she has time for is Marcus and his flirting, sexy as he might be. But every time Emma thinks she’s reached the end of her rope, Marcus is there to lend a hand. Maybe there’s more to the handsome playboy after all…

Enjoy an Excerpt

Marcus’s ridiculous vintage muscle car was parked in its usual spot next to the barn, but he could have gone with Adam.

She thought about calling again, but what would she say? “Hey, I stopped out at the ranch to make sure you weren’t being held hostage by terrorists, but you’re not here”?

No thank you.

She decided she’d say hi to Jake, then head home and fume until it was time to fetch Granddad from day care. Day Club.

A quick movement from the other side of the frosted glass next to the door made her pause. She saw it again…a flash of something light passing by.

And then she heard it. A light thump, followed by more movement. One of the dogs was inside, jumping up and down by the window.

“Hey, who’s that?” Emma asked, squatting to look.

Another thump, and the flash—this time she realized it was a big, light-colored dog.

Adam’s D-Day was black. Lizzie’s dog, Loretta, was white, but would be in the kennels with her pups anyway. The only other option was Patton, Marcus’s big golden retriever, who never barked. Like, ever.

He was also trained to never leave Marcus’s side unless he were dismissed—or if Marcus was injured and in need of help.

All the paranoid fantasies she’d ever had about bad things happening to her family squeezed Emma’s heart and lungs.
“Marcus?” she called, pushing open the unlocked door and stepping into the dim interior of the house.

The dog stood panting and wagging at Emma.

There was no obnoxious eighties hair-band music blasting from the kitchen, no explosions and screams coming from the giant television and game console in the living room. No creaks and groans from an old house giving clues to the whereabouts of its inhabitants.

Patton wagged and nudged her with his head, so she petted him. “Good boy. What’s going on? Where’s Marcus?”

He turned and padded toward the stairs, stopping to make sure she paid attention. Was Marcus upstairs, somehow injured? The band around her chest tightened another notch. She followed Patton, but by the time she reached the top step, a thought occurred to her. What if Marcus wasn’t alone? What if he’d exiled Patton because he had company?

It was quiet in the house, but maybe Marcus and his guest were snuggled down, enjoying some postcoital z’s while everyone else was working their asses off.

Well, she was outside his door now, and she had to be sure he was safe.

On Patton’s heels, she pushed open the door to her childhood bedroom and saw Marcus laid out flat on his back, feet crossed at the ankles, hands folded neatly on his hard stomach, eyes closed. He was sacked out so hard he didn’t seem to be breathing.

But Marcus wasn’t dead. He was living, breathing, and very warm, which she knew because she’d somehow made her way to his side.

The room smelled of spicy man and something she couldn’t quite put her finger on…something dangerous.

Since he was sleeping and not winking, smiling, or flirting with her, she gave herself a moment to study him. He was beyond beautiful. His thick, black hair was twisted into little corkscrews that normally bounced and bobbed like an outward extension of his personality. Russet brown skin, large nose, square jaw, and soft-looking, sensual lips that seemed to smile, even in sleep.

Before she knew it, she’d reached out toward him, then stopped, feeling like a creeper.

“Hi.”

“Oh crap!” She jerked her hand back, but not before Marcus took her slim wrist in his big hand.

“It’s okay. I don’t bite,” he murmured, his gaze hooded. “Unless you ask me to.”

A pool of heat formed low in Emma’s belly, chasing away her reason for being there. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said, though she didn’t even convince herself.

“I’m glad you did,” he said softly, slowly tugging the hand he held. She didn’t pull away, intoxicated by his scent, the heat in his eyes. When he tugged her hand again, she toppled onto his chest. To escape those half-mast eyes, she looked down at his full, luscious lips, which opened to say, “You can kiss me if you want.”

She wanted. Oh, how she wanted as his hands spanned her waist, then traveled to her hips. There was something unreal about this moment that made her believe she could kiss him, that it would be a good, good thing to kiss this man.

***

Excerpted from Lucky Chance Cowboy by Teri Anne Stanley. © 2020 by Teri Anne Stanley. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.

About the Author: When Teri Anne Stanley isn’t writing sassy, sexy, love stories from her home near Sugartit, Kentucky (which is between Beaver Lick and Rabbit Hash. Seriously), she’s probably doing some sort of arsty-crafsty thing and hanging with Mr. Stanley, her three favorite children, and the dogs. Sometimes she’s masquerading as a day job science geek. She’s definitely not cooking or cleaning.

Buy the book at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, Kobo, IndieBound, or BAM.

a Rafflecopter giveaway
Speaking purchase viagra no prescription clearly about your feeling and nervousness even if this perhaps sounds not easy, is vital; your partner require realize how you experience and what you want. cialis prices Whichever way you are going to adopt, consistency and persistence are keys to success. These medications are now available in the denomination of 60, 240, 120 and 180 capsules. cialis generika Pueraria tuberosa or sildenafil levitra Vidarikanda (in Sanskrit ) belongs to the family of Fabaceae.

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Teri Anne Stanley who is celebrating the upcoming release of Big Chance Cowboy. Enter the Rafflecopter for a chance to win a copy of the book.

At Big Chance Dog Rescue,
Even humans get a second chance
After a disastrous mistake disbanded his Army unit, Adam Collins has returned home to Big Chance, Texas. He just wants to sell the family ranch, set up his sister and grandfather with the funds, and then ride off into the sunset.

Lizzie Vanhook has landed back in her hometown, heartbroken and jobless. Adding to her troubles is the unruly stray who’s claimed her as his own. Lizzie knows she’s in over her head. Enter Adam—not only does he work with dogs, he’s also tall, dark, handsome, and the one who got away…

Adam wants nothing to do with other people, much less dogs. But when his old flame asks him to help her train her scruffy dog, he can’t say no. As his reluctant heart opens up, the impossible seems possible: a second chance with the woman he’s always loved in a place where he, his friends, and the other strays who show up can heal and call home, Big Chance, Texas.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Houston was three hours and a couple of broken dreams behind her when Lizzie Vanhook crossed the Chance County line, right about the same time the Check Tire Pressure light in her dashboard blinked on.

Crap. She’d been in the homestretch. There was something symbolic about an uninterrupted beeline home, to the place she planned to find her center of gravity. Maybe start doing yoga. Eat all organic. Drink herbal tea and learn to play the pan flute.

Flipping the turn signal, she pulled into Big America Fuel and stopped near the sign for Free Air. She stepped out onto the cracked gray asphalt and bent to search for the pressure gauge her dad always insisted she keep in the pocket of the door but came up empty.

She abandoned the driver’s side and went to the passenger door, hesitating when she noticed the dog leaning against the nearby air pump. The big dog. It was missing some significant patches of hair, and the rest was black and matted. Its big, shiny teeth were bared in what she hoped was a friendly smile. Its football-player-forearm-sized tail thumped the ground, raising a cloud of sunbaked, Central Texas dust. Lizzie sneezed. The dog stopped wagging and raised an ear in her direction.

“Good boy,” she told it, hoping that was the right thing to say. It was one thing to misunderstand the intentions of a tiny fuzzball of a dog and need a few stitches. Ignoring a warning from something this size could be lethal. It had to weigh at least a hundred pounds.

She kept the beast in her peripheral vision while she bent to search for the tire gauge. Ah ha!

“Y’all need some help?”

“No!” Lizzie straightened and turned, the pressure gauge clenched in her raised fist.

“Whoa there!” A sun-bronzed elderly man, about half Lizzie’s size, held his hands in front of him in a gesture of peace.

“I’m sorry,” she said, relaxing slightly. “The dog—” She gestured but the thing was gone.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, darlin’,” the old man said, tilting his Big America ball cap back. “We’re a little slow today, so I thought I’d check on you.” He indicated the vacant parking lot.

“It’s fine,” she said. She should remember she was back on her own turf, where it was way more likely that a stranger at a gas station really did want to help you out rather than distract you and rob you blind. “It’s been a long drive, and I’m a little overcaffeinated.”

“No problem. You local?”

“Yes,” Lizzie said. Even though she’d been gone for years, it was about to be true again.

The attendant squinted at the tool she carried. “You got a leaky tire?”

“I don’t know.” She stooped to unscrew the cap of the first valve. “The little light went on while I was driving.” Nope. That one wasn’t low. She put the cap back on and continued her way around the car while her new friend followed, chatting about Big Chance. He wondered about the likelihood the Chance County High School quarterback would get a scholarship offer. Lizzie had no idea; she hadn’t been keeping up. He speculated on the probability that the Feed and Seed might close, now that there was a new Home Depot over in Fredericksburg. She expected she’d hear about it from her mom and dad if the local place was closing and wondered if her friend Emma still worked there.

It had been ages since Lizzie had spoken to Emma, and a wave of guilt washed over her. Finally, the last valve was checked, and she screwed the cap back on. She reached through the open window and dropped the tire gauge on the passenger seat while she said “Everybody’s full. Must be a false alarm.” She wrinkled her nose as she caught a whiff of the interior of her car. Sheesh. The service station probably sold air fresheners; maybe she should invest in one. Compared to the breezy, wide open spaces of home, her car smelled like an inside-out dead deer. She wanted to get home, though, so she decided to deal with it later.

It wasn’t until she was backing out onto the main road that she realized the awful smell inside her vehicle wasn’t just long-drive funk. There was something—something big and black and furry—sitting in the middle of her back seat, panting and grinning in her rearview mirror.

***
Excerpted from Big Chance Cowboy by Teri Anne Stanley. © 2019 by Teri Anne Stanley. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.