I’m so excited to be a part of The Writer’s Voice! Thank you so much to Brenda Drake, Kimberly Chase, Nikki Roberti, and everyone else volunteering their time for this contest.
Genre: YA Contemporary
Word Count: 65K
Seventeen-year-old Chloe Matthews is done with guys, done with her ex, and done with the cowboys of the Grand Teton Mountains. She refuses to get hurt again.
All that matters now are the horses. Every horse Chloe helps is another piece of herself put back together. But Jack Hunter, town favorite and arrogant cowboy, has most of the horse training business locked up and needs it to keep his dad’s ranch open. Although, instead of using whips and spurs, Chloe trains with encouragement and trust, showing there’s a better way.
When a horse needs a safe haven, Chloe’s only choice is to accept a bargain from Jack – she teaches him her training methods in exchange for a hidden pasture on his ranch. Working so closely with the flirtatious cowboy challenges Chloe’s ‘no guys’ rule, until she learns her ex is out of prison and hell-bent on picking up where they left off.
WHISPER First 250 Words
Jackson, Wyoming. My new town. So different from home. Better in most ways. It was the promise of a new life, a place where nobody knew me. My future was open and wild, and I was free.
I’d spent the last two hours posting my horse training flyers up and down the plank-wood sidewalks of town. Laughter and music tumbled out of cowboy bars and shots thundered from the old west show a few streets over.
Just as I taped my last flyer at the corner of Cache and Broadway, a sinewy arm reached over my head and tore it off.
“Hey!” I said as I spun around.
“Don’t need any more horse trainers around here,” a teenage guy said as he crumpled my flyer in his fist. “Especially no punk-rock, SoCal wannabes.” His blue eyes challenged me from beneath his black cowboy hat.
The hair prickled on the back of my scalp. I stumbled back, but there were plenty of people on the sidewalks, and like hell was I going to let him treat me like that. I stepped forward, ripped the flyer out of his hand, and said, “Who do you think you are?”
He gave me a sideways grin that was probably meant to be charming. “I’m the only trainer this town needs.”
He was cover material for American Cowboy magazine with his dark eyebrows and smart-ass lips, but that grin wouldn’t work on me. I was done with guys. All of them. I was incapable of picking a good one.
Thank you for your time and consideration, and thank you to The Writer’s Voice.