Favorite Cowboy Romance Feature at USA TODAY's Happy Ever After by Renee Vincent

Last week, book 2 of my Mavericks of Meeteetse series, MADE FOR McKINLEY, was featured at USA TODAY's Happy Ever After in an article asking authors and romance blogs which cowboy romance was their favorite!

What makes this twice as awesome, is that New York Times bestselling author, Cathryn Fox, mentioned my cowboy romance as her favorite and it's sitting front and center at the top of the list!

It's such a thrill to touch readers with my writing, but to make a fellow author's favorite list shoots me to a whole new level of happiness—especially from such a beloved and talented bestselling author as Cathryn Fox! Here's what she had to say:

"My favorite cowboy romance is Made for McKinley (Mavericks of Meeteetse series) by Renee Vincent. There’s just something about a denim-clad, hardworking cowboy that fires a woman’s blood and sets her heart racing … Renee’s book touched on real issues, and I found myself smiling, laughing and even tearing up a little. She has a way of drawing a reader in so you feel exactly what her characters feel."

I encourage you to read the whole article so you can see the great company of authors surrounding me, as well as the other cowboy romance favorites that come with personal recommendations from some of the industry's top selling authors! Click here... 

And because I'm so overwhelmingly happy about this great news, I wanted to share an excerpt from the book. I hope you enjoy! 

Made For McKinley, Book 2

Excerpt:

Ava looked away. She felt weak and full of shame for what she wanted. He was just too young for her to crave those things from him. She couldn’t help but feel she’d only be taking advantage of him. She had to resist Jonas McKinley. It was best for both of them.

Just walk out.

After her inner pep talk, she became very aware of the pressure of his grip around her wrist and realized she couldn’t escape him if she tried. He was too strong for her to slip away.

“Look at me, Ava.”

She clenched her teeth at his command. If she couldn’t remove herself from him, she’d give him the cold shoulder.

“Look at me.”

He spoke in a whisper, a satiny susurrus laced with grit. That intoxicating sound alone willed her to move. Like ribbons of grass bending in the wind, she had no choice but to shift her gaze in his direction. His warm, kind eyes hit her like the double-barrel hind kick of a horse. His face had softened to match the rich, dulcet tone of his voice. She fell limp under his spell.

His grip on her wrist lessened, and he stroked her forearm in the release. He brushed the wispy hair from her face, taking notice of what their passionate encounter had done to her ponytail.

“You and I are so much alike, it’s scary.” He folded his hands at the small of her back, trapping her against him in a way that didn’t make her feel imprisoned. “We both have rules we hate to break. And until you came along, I never broke them.”

He let go and stepped back. The buckle of Winchester’s throatlatch became his focus instead of her body. She was thankful for the reprieve, and her flight response diminished. He had her curious.

“What rules did you break with me?”

In one fluid motion, he reached beneath the horse’s jaw and up to the opposite ear, sliding off the headstall. Winchester opened his mouth as the bit fell out. Jonas gave the horse a good pat on the neck and turned to face her. His eyes enchanted her again. “Number one, I never let anyone ride my horse. And that means no one.”

Ava pursed her lips, hiding a grin. She wasn’t sure what special factor she had to make him forgo that rule, but she liked it.

“Number two?” she prompted.

“I never get involved with anyone from the rodeo circuit. That includes those who ride and those who watch.”

“So why me?” She couldn’t believe she actually voiced her thoughts. She wanted to kick herself for doing so. Engaging this man in conversation was not the way to brush him off. And did she really want to know? What if it was because of a dare? Or a bet? Men did that crap all the time. Would she be able to handle his reason if it were on the sharp side of a wager? Probably not.

Her gut said, Leave while you still can. For once, she decided to listen.

As Ava attempted to sidestep him, he took hold of her arm. Not in haste or with fervor, but with tenderness. His gaze captured hers, and she could see the sincerity expressed in the magnificent swirl of blue in his eyes.“Why did I break rules for you? Because I can’t stop myself. Hell, I’d break every damn rule there was just to be close to you.”

★Longing For Langston (Brody & Liv) Book 1★
Amazon US: http://bit.ly/Langston_Kindle
Amazon UK: http://bit.ly/Langston_UK
Amazon CA: http://bit.ly/Langston_CA
Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/Langston_AU
B&N: http://bit.ly/Langston_NOOK
iBooks: http://apple.co/1NuEugm
Kobo: http://bit.ly/Langston_kobo

★Made For McKinley (Jonas & Ava) Book 2★
Amazon US: http://bit.ly/McKinley_Kindle
Amazon UK: http://bit.ly/McKinley_UK
Amazon CA: http://bit.ly/McKinley_CA
Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/McKinley_AU
B&N: http://bit.ly/McKinley_nook
iBooks: http://apple.co/1leACG6
Kobo: http://bit.ly/McKinley_Kobo

★Falling For Forester (Cole & Crys) Book 3★
Amazon US: http://bit.ly/Forester_Kindle
Amazon UK: http://bit.ly/Forester_UK
Amazon CA: http://bit.ly/Forester_CA
Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/Forester_AU
B&N: http://bit.ly/Forester_Nook
iBooks: http://bit.ly/Forester_iBooks
Kobo: http://bit.ly/Forester_Kobo

Only 3 Days Left: FALLING FOR FORESTER by Renee Vincent

That's right, romance lovers! May 24th marks the release date of the third book of my Mavericks of Meeteetse series and I can't wait for you to read it! It's one of my favorites as I've not written a hero quite like Cole Forester.

If you enjoy cowboy romance, then I encourage you to pick this one up. Even though it's the third story in the series, each of them can be read as stand alones. However, for a much more enjoyable read, I recommend reading the series in order, and rest assured, each book has a Happily Ever After!

*And for your reading enjoyment, I've included a tempting little excerpt. I hope you enjoy!

FALLING FOR FORESTER

Mavericks of Meeteetse, Book 3 (Cole & Crys)

eBooks: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU | B&N | iBooks | Kobo

Paperback: Amazon

Nothing says damsel in distress like white smoke billowing from the hood of a full-sized pickup truck on the side of the road. And nothing wills a man to pull over like a nice curvy butt in jeans.

Cole Forester shot a quick glance in his rearview mirror before he decided to stop and help, taking in the length of the woman’s blonde hair falling down her back. Much to his surprise, her beautiful golden locks almost reached her ass, stopping short of her low-rise denim belt loops. He tamped down a smile, pulled over, and threw the shifter into Park.

Looks like my shitty day is finally perking up.

Sammy, his Australian Blue Heeler, barked twice and sat up on the front seat beside him. Cole noticed he no longer struggled with rising to his feet, despite the long, gruesome scar running across his hind leg from a protective mama grizzly a few months ago. Doc Peterson had said it might take as long as six months for Sammy to heal. Cole was thrilled it had taken less.

He scratched Sammy behind the ears and commanded him to stay. The dog whined once in protest but did as he was told.

Cole stepped out of the cab as he adjusted his cowboy hat. Steam still spewed from the radiator of her truck, which he noticed was a three-quarter-ton GMC with alloy wheels and a killer paint job, but the cute blonde was nowhere to be found.

He shut his truck door and pointed another warning to Sammy before walking toward her vehicle. He examined the scene. New truck. Texas plates. Matching horse trailer. And a disappearing lady in distress.

He chuckled to himself, wondering where the hell she went. He’d heard the folks in Texas didn’t mess around. With his luck, she probably ran inside her living quarters for a gun. When he brought to mind her small stature, he couldn’t imagine one ounce of aggression in that sweet little body, much less a woman equipped to wield a firearm.

He walked around the passenger side of her truck and looked down the length of the rig behind it. By the time he peeked through the tinted cab windows, he heard the unmistakable sound of a pump-action shotgun behind him.

He froze and slowly raised his hands to shoulder level. “Easy, ma’am.”

“I’ll ease up after you get back in your truck and roll on, mister.”

Cole smiled, entertained by the woman’s bravery. At six foot five, two hundred forty pounds, he was nothing to sneeze at. And based on the good look he got of her as he drove by, he figured she couldn’t have been much taller than five foot seven.

“I don’t blame you for being cautious in this day and age, little lady, but I’m harmless.”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say.”

“They?”

“Rapists and murderers.”

Cole scoffed. “Might I give you some advice? You shouldn’t hang around people like that.”

“You think you’re funny?”

He did, but was mighty glad she couldn’t see the grin on his face. She’d have pumped his ass full of lead. “Call it a defense mechanism for having a gun pointed at my back. I’m only trying to be a gentleman.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t know you well enough to tell if you’re lying. And the longer you stand here, the more suspicious I become of your Good Samaritan act. Consider this a fair warning. I know how to use this thing, I’m far from gullible, and I have trust issues.”

You don’t say. “Look, I couldn’t care less whether you believe me or not. But you’re not going anywhere with that radiator overheating. You need fluid in that engine, and the closest place is about ten miles up the road. It’s called the Wagon Wheel. Nice little place that serves cold drinks and hot bar food. I’m driving that way myself and wouldn’t mind giving you a lift.”

“It’s kind of you, but I’ll pass.”

“You’ll never make it without some sort of fluid to cool the engine, especially with that trailer. And it’s a long way on foot.”

“I’ve got a horse.”

“At least tell me you have a phone—”

“Got that too. Should I call the police right now?”

Cole slowly turned around and looked at his stubborn adversary. She stood with her feet spread and gripped a gorgeous Remington Model 870 Wingmaster pump-action shotgun at her shoulder like a pro, unlike a novice who’d be hip-shooting.

Nice.

“Something else funny?”

He must have smiled, but he quickly erased it. “Not at all. I was just admiring your weapon of choice. Got one just like it.”

“Then you know it’s pretty lethal at close range. Not to mention it has a solid steel receiver and twin action bars for flawless cycling. It’s an American icon that will take you down in the blink of an eye.”

Cole didn’t hide his amusement this time. She’d grabbed his attention with her sweet little ass but stole his heart with her proficient knowledge of firearms. He could almost marry her. A picture of them standing together at an altar beneath a rustic arbor of elk antlers popped into his head. She wore a simple white sundress, cowboy boots, and a scowl, much like the look she was giving him now. “I do,” he stated, “know all that and more about the Remington.”

“Good. Now, please don’t make me prove it.”

He watched her step to the side, giving him room to move between her and her truck. Her sights remained on him. “Yes, ma’am.”

Keeping his hands raised, he held her gaze as he slipped past. While glad to leave in one piece, part of him was disappointed he hadn’t snagged her name. It wasn’t often a woman like that waltzed into his world. Most were typical powder-and-paint chicks whose expertise lay in accessorizing and lip gloss application. This one was a genuine cowgirl with piss and vinegar running through her veins. She had a free, untamable spirit and a big Texas ego, for neither of which she’d ever apologize. Like the crisp mountain breeze of Wyoming, she was truly a breath of fresh air.

Staring down the barrel, he backed up all the way to his truck and climbed inside. Sammy remained quiet and submissive, greeting him only with a happy tail wag as he tugged the shifter into Drive. From his view in the side mirror, he could see she kept aim. He pinched the brim of his hat and nodded a polite cowboy farewell at her reflection before pulling away.

Driving off proved harder than he expected. She’d made a considerable impression on him, and he hated that he’d never see her again. Against his better judgment, he glanced at his rear mirrors from time to time. He fought the urge to tromp down on the brakes and spin a U-ee. Was he crazy? Was he trying to get himself killed?

You fool! She’s a girl, made of gunpowder and lead who’d love a good excuse to prove it.

Sammy nuzzled next to him as if he sensed his discontentment. Cole absently stroked his fur, mulling over his options. Essentially, he had none. Whether she fascinated him or not, he couldn’t go back there without the risk of getting shot.

Sammy barked, jerking Cole’s focus away from the long stretch of blacktop behind him. He pulled his dog closer and patted him soundly. “You’re right. She ain’t worth it. Besides, women only complicate things, don’t they?”

Sammy acknowledged him with another yap and offered his paw. Cole laughed and shook it, pretending to accept the dog’s proposition. “Deal. Only a bachelor’s life for us.”

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Other books in the series:

LONGING FOR LANGSTON: Novella, Book 1 (Brody & Liv)

MADE FOR McKINLEY: Book 2 (Jonas & Ava)

FALLING FOR FORESTER: Book 3 (Cole & Crys)

WILD FOR WALLACE: Book 4 (Sawyer & Charlotte)

*All the books in this series can be read as stand alones*
Click HERE to read more about the Mavericks of Meeteetse Series or on each individual book.

Available now! Novella, Book 1 (Brody & Liv)

Available now! Book 2 (Jonas & Ava)

Coming May 24th! Book 3 (Cole & Crys)

Guest Blog by Renee Vincent: Why Spring Clean In January?

As I reflect on the passing 2015 year, I can't help but marvel that the month of January 2016 is nearly over as well. Many of us have gotten back into the swing of things, working the nine-to-five, and braving the daily grind. Some of us have even made New Year's resolutions—that we swear we're going to keep.

I, however, have tackled some serious spring cleaning a few months early. Sounds crazy, don't it? But I figure why not take advantage of this unexpected stint of motivation so I can rid the usual excuses for why I'm not writing from my repertoire. I've been cleaning out closets, downsizing my wardrobe, and trying to get rid of things I don't need. While I'm pleased with the new organization of my house, I'm also delighted that I've been able to give to the needy in my community.

I was even able to do a little redecorating in my office. My husband added a nice little reading nook to the room (though I must admit I've been doing more writing in there, than reading—that's still a win-win as I see it.) Next to that, I arranged my grandmother's vanity with the antique chair and ottoman I had upholstered a few months ago. Everything now matches the silver and purple theme. What do you think?

Now that I've finished my spring cleaning early, I have all kinds of time to write in the months ahead. At least, that's the plan. I'm hoping to release book 2 of my cowboy series, Falling For Forester, in a few months, and then book 3, Wild for Wallace, before the beginning of summer. Here's hoping!

If you'd like to get a head start on the series, you can check out the prequel, Longing For Langston, and book 1, Made For McKinley.

In the meantime, here's a fun little snippet from the prequel. I hope you enjoy!

Longing For Langston

(The Prequel, Brody & Liv)

eBook: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU | B&N | iBooks | Kobo | Smashwords
Trade paperback: Amazon | B&N

Excerpt:

As she brought her set to an end, a roar of cheers and applause erupted. Even a few piercing whistles split the joy and excitement of the meager crowd. Brody clapped as he watched Liv smile and bow in humble gratitude. It wouldn’t be long before she’d be singing in front of thousands of fans. He just knew it.

Liv hung her guitar on the wall behind her and stepped off the platform to resume her waitress duties. Brody caught her attention and pointed to his empty bottle. One more, he mouthed.

She gave him the thumbs-up and walked between tables, checking on customers and snagging empties as she went. Just like that, the atmosphere of the Wagon Wheel returned to its usual state. The local drunkard, Bob Walsh, plopped his forehead on his arm and took another snooze on the slick lacquered wood of the bar. Mr. Corinth sat beside him, puffing on his cigar and watching Denver kick Cleveland into the dirt. His wife ignored the game and the few Bronco fans who sat adjacent to her. Instead, she perched on her stool, crocheting the beginnings of a tricolored afghan. On the opposite end near the restrooms, Professor Shoemaucker hid behind his newspaper as he always did on Monday evenings.

Everything was as it should be, save for the three guys in the corner booth. Brody kept refocusing his attention on them, waiting for one of the spoiled pretty boys to act out of line. He knew they would. He’d bet money on it. Especially the guy with the million-dollar smile and the thousand-dollar wristwatch. He had more flash than a vintage mid-century Kodak camera. Guys like that loved to be the center of attention and often went to extremes to acquire it.

“You’re doing it again, Galven,” Liv interrupted, handing Brody a full one.

“Doing what?”

“Sizing them up. Finding justification for kicking their asses.” Liv seized his chin and drew his attention toward her. “Let it go. I mean it.”

Though she stood no taller than five foot four, weighing in at a buck ten, Brody adored her confidence. She embodied self-assurance in the way she turned and sashayed down the aisle of empty tables. He held his beer to his lips as he watched her drop another bucket of beers at the corner booth. Her long, toned legs flexed as she leaned forward. Her shorts barely covered that spot where the curve of her bottom met the back of her thigh. If he wasn’t so suspicious of the guys at that table, he might have bought them another round just so he could watch Liv stretch and lean again.

“Well, thank you, darlin’,” Brody heard one say. “That’s mighty kind of you.”

For a moment, Brody thought perhaps he’d judged them prematurely. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d allowed his jealous tendencies to bring out the worst in him. The last time it happened, he’d ended up spending the night in jail for disorderly conduct. He’d never forget that awful night. He only wished the folks of Meeteetse would.

No sooner had Brody given those boys the benefit of the doubt than one of them reached around and slapped her on the behind. When she scowled at him, the man laughed and pulled her onto his lap. 

Liv shrieked in surprise and writhed to escape him. Brody flipped his lid and lunged from his chair without hesitation. He gritted his teeth. Spots blurred his vision. He was going to kill that sonofabitch.

Liv saw Brody stalking forward. She froze. She looked more frightened than the two guys who tried to warn their friend. Upping the effort, she threw an elbow into the man’s chest and slipped from his grasp. “Galven, wait!” she said, throwing herself at Brody. “Listen to me. He isn’t worth it.” She frantically pointed toward the bar behind him. “See, Jethro’s coming. He’ll throw them out, and they won’t be allowed back. Please, Brody, listen to me. Don’t do this.”

Brody could hear Liv pleading, but nothing registered. He moved her aside and barreled forward. All three guys had squeezed out of the booth, securing their spot in a defensive triangle. The biggest of the three stood in the front.

Brody scoffed, unimpressed with any of them. “I don’t know where you’re from, but around here, we treat women with respect.”

The entire bar fell silent. No one dared to move a muscle with Brody cocked and loaded.

“You don’t want to mess with me,” the stranger stated, crossing his arms. “I’ll have you know my father is the—”

“I don’t care who your sperm donor is,” Brody interrupted. “Apologize to her.”

Brody felt Liv’s hand on his shoulder. “It—it’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t.” Brody stared the man down. “Apologize. Now.”

One of the three muttered to the guy in front, “Apologize already so we can get the hell out of here, Carlton.”

“Your friend’s a smart man,” Brody added. “You should listen to him.”

Carlton shook his head. “I don’t have to listen to you or anybody in this Podunk town. And I sure as hell don’t need to apologize to a waitress. It’s her job to serve me. Besides, I think she liked having a real man’s arms around her for a change.” He leaned forward and looked Brody in the eyes. “What do you think about that? Hillbilly.”

Brody reared back and threw the first punch, knocking Carlton and his high-dollar hat into next Sunday.

Connect With Renee Vincent:

RENEE VINCENT is a USA Today bestselling author who also pens humorous, sweet contemporary romance (with a smidgen of spunk) under the name GRACIE LEE ROSE. From the daunting, charismatic Vikings, to the charming, brazen Alpha male heroes of modern day (which now include cowboys) readers will be whisked away to a world filled with fast-paced adventure, unforgettable romance, and undying love. NEWSLETTER SIGN UP Join Renee Vincent's newsletter and reap the benefits of being a loyal follower! (One lucky winner is drawn each month)