Synopsis:
Gillian
‘s turbulent life has never been easy, but nothing prepared her for
the moment of violence that sends her and her little brother running
from San Francisco to her grandfather’s ranch in Montana.
A man she’s never met. She learned long ago not to trust anyone,
but she’ll do anything to keep her brother safe and give him the
happy childhood she never had. When she meets Blake Bowden, a strong,
silent, gorgeous cowboy who teaches her about the ranch and
rescued horses-animals who have been through hell and back, just as
she has-Gillian begins to feel at ease for the first time in memory.
In fact, she even starts to feel happy. But in her world happiness
has always been fleeting, and she’s not sure she can believe in it
or the man who has quickly found his way into her heart.
Blake
has everything he’s ever wanted: a partnership on a ranch that
allows him to spend his day in the saddle training racehorses. His
life is good, steady, uncomplicated…until the most beautiful,
haunted looking woman arrives at Three Peaks Ranch. If he wants
to keep his ideal life, his partner’s granddaughter is entirely off
limits, but Gillian awakens a protective instinct in Blake that he
can’t ignore…and ignites a passion he shouldn’t feel. But as
Gillian heals and finds her way back into the world, Blake knows that
he’s found the one thing that he never knew he was missing. And
when danger comes close, he will do anything he must to keep Gillian
safe…even if it means risking his life’s dream.
Gillian will do anything to protect her little brother from their alcoholic and druggie father. One night he pulled out a gun on her and she fought him for it. She tried hard to make sure Justin didn't end up on the streets. Bud finds out about his granddaughter shooting Ron. He goes to the hospital to see her but she refused to see him. Gillian wants to get Justin out of foster care and her social worker told her is the only way she could get him back was going to Montana and living with her grandfather. So she decided to go to Montana, when she got to the ranch she saw a horse that was abused and she thought that her grandfather did it, he told her that he saved the horse.
Ron is Gillian's father, obsessive need to keep his children close, he is an alcoholic and druggie. Erin is Gillian and Justin's mother, died from an overdose and Bud's daughter. Gillian is Ron's daughter and has protected Justin from their father's abuse. Bud Gillian's Grandfather, Three Peaks Ranch Part owner. Dee is Bud's Wife, she loves to cook. Blake Three Peaks Ranch part owner, head trainer and manager. Justin is Gillian's younger brother.
This book is the second book in the Montana Men series. I truly loved how well this book was written and I loved that I couldn't put this book down. I also loved that the characters were very well developed.
Excerpt
Chapter
One
San
Francisco, California
“Help
me!”
Home late
from her shift washing dishes at the Jade Palace, Gillian pounded up
the two flights of stairs as fast as her legs allowed. She hit the
landing and turned right, racing down the hallway past her
apartment’s open door to Mrs. Wicks's unit at the end of the hall.
She’d heard the screams from outside. Not the first time she’d
answered that call, but so help her God, if her father touched one
hair on Justin’s head, she’d kill him.
“I’m
calling the police,” the babysitter, Mrs. Wicks, threatened loud
enough for her voice to carry down the hall.
“Damnit,
woman, he’s my blood,” her father bellowed.
Gillian
rushed into the apartment, spotted Justin holding his arm, tears
shimmering in his eyes, but otherwise appearing unharmed. She looked
her father up and down assessing the situation in a glance and the
odds on talking him down from whatever ludicrous idea had taken root
in his shadowed mind. Dressed in the same clothes he’d left in four
days ago, his hair an oily mass hanging lank to his shoulders, he
reeked of whiskey, cigarette and pot smoke, and acrid body odor. The
wild look in his bloodshot eyes told her he hadn’t slept in a good
long while. Riding a meth high, he’d probably binged for days.
Soon, he’d lose all sense of reality and need more of the drug that
wouldn’t give him the high he needed, since he’d overloaded his
system. He’d crash, his body shutting down and putting him into a
deep sleep for a day, or two, or three before he woke up miserable,
needing more of what put him in this psychotic state in the first
place.
Frustrated
and angry, but resigned to this same worn-out routine, she shored up
her resolve to get through this night, like she’d done too many
times in the past, trapped raising a child with little money and even
fewer choices. None of them good.
Her father
paced, his movements jerky. He scratched at his arm, his legs, the
back of his neck with his grime filled nails. He slapped at his
thigh, then bit at the tips of his fingers. A hint to how far he’d
fallen down the rabbit hole. Not good.
“Dad,
come on. Let’s go home. I’ll make you something to eat,” she
coaxed, keeping her voice calm.
A powder
keg of roiling rage, you never knew what would set him off.
Justin
cowered in the corner of the couch, his eyes wide and watchful. He
didn’t move, afraid of drawing her father’s attention. Even at
six, he knew the rules of this twisted game.
Mrs. Wicks
moved into the kitchen, leaving Jessie to handle getting her father
out of there and back to their place. She’d done it before.
Usually, he’d come looking for her. She’d been held up at work,
and he’d found little Justin alone. She never left Justin with him
if she could help it, especially over the last year when her father
spent more time strung-out and paranoid on meth than comfortably numb
with booze and pot, like he’d been every day of her life.
The last
two weeks had been hell. Her patience had worn thin days ago. If she
could hold on, get him out of Mrs. Wicks’s apartment and into
theirs, she could take Justin and crash somewhere else for a few days
until her father came down and leveled off.
Then, joy,
they could start this whole thing over again.
I wish
Justin and I were anywhere else.
Inside, the
pressure built. How good it would feel to open her mouth and unleash
a string of curses, insults, and blame for what her father put her
and Justin through day in and day out. She hated him for spending his
life drowning in a bottle and doing drugs, his life going up in
smoke. Her life went up with it. Justin’s too. She wanted it to
end. One way or another, just end.
Her father
swatted at some imaginary bird, or butterfly, or dragon for all she
knew. Only he saw the tormenting hallucinations. If he was this far
gone, he was even more volatile and dangerous than usual.
“Dad,
come on. I’ll make you a burger and get you a beer.”
“We have
to go.” His words came out rushed. He swatted at the air again,
this time spinning around to the right before he stopped and turned
the other way again, tracking his imaginary flying devils, waving his
arms over his head to swat them away.
She shook
her head, frustrated and tired of dealing with him. This. Everything.
She wanted to run away, but where would she go? It was all she could
do now to keep a roof over Justin’s head and food in his belly with
the diminishing help her father supplied. Out on the streets, or in a
shelter, they’d be vulnerable to even more horrors. What kind of
life would that be for Justin? Better than this one? Maybe. Maybe
not. Still, she needed to find a way to give Justin better than she’d
had growing up with a volatile drunk, who could barely keep a
bartending job and supplemented his income selling drugs to support
his own habits.
“We have
to go. We have to go. We have to go,” her father chanted, getting
agitated, hitting the side of his head with one hand and scratching
at the imaginary bugs crawling under his skin on his leg with the
other.
Fed up, she
stepped toward him to grab his arm and lead him back to their place.
He jumped out of her reach and laughed. The sound held no humor, but
a touch of hysteria in the odd shriek. Her father pointed at her,
shaking his head side to side. “No. No. No. No. No.” Again, his
ominous giggle sent a chill up her spine.
Her father
grabbed Justin’s arm and yanked him off the couch. She stood her
ground in front of him. No way he left here with Justin.
“Let him
go. He needs to finish his homework.” She made up the excuse,
hoping he’d release Justin, and she could get him out of there.
“He’s
mine. He’ll keep them away. He’s got the light that turns them
away.”
Paranoid,
delusional asshole.
She sighed,
knowing just where this was going and not liking it one bit. Soon,
her father would spiral into a psychotic delusion no one could talk
him out of.
Please,
just pass out already.
Not that
lucky, she tensed and waited to see what came next. Her father pulled
Justin in front of him, held him by both arms and turned him this way
and that, a shield against an enemy only he could see.
“Ow!”
Justin cried out when her father’s fingers dug into his thin arms.
“Keep
them back.” Her father tugged on Justin again. Hurt and scared,
Justin planted his feet and pulled away, trying to get free. Her
father held tighter, spun him around to face him, and when her father
hurt Justin and he fell to the floor, tears spilling from his eyes,
Jessie's couldn't take the ache in her heart and her anger exploded.
“Keep
them back.” Her father shook Justin again.
Jessie lost
it. “I warned you, if you ever touched him...” She lunged for her
father, striking him in the arm, breaking his hold on Justin. She
shoved her father two steps back and Justin ran for Mrs. Wicks in the
kitchen, who rattled off the building address to the police on the
phone. Not the first time someone called the cops on her father, and
it probably wouldn’t be the last. No way they got here in time to
stop him. Whatever happened next, she’d sure as hell make sure he
never got anywhere near Justin again.
Her father
came after her in a drug-hazed rage that gave him strength and sent
him into a mindless attack. All other thoughts disappeared behind the
fury filling his mind. Her father only knew how to hurt. She’d been
through this too many times to count and braced for the impact when
his fist came at her straight into her eye. Pain exploded in her
head. She shoved him in the chest, but he came back with a slap to
her jaw that stung something fierce. She kicked him in the shin and
shoved him again. He fell back two steps, his hand coming up from
behind his back. Momentarily stunned, she didn’t move, but stared
down the gun's black barrel in disbelief that he’d actually pulled
a weapon on her. She didn’t know where he’d gotten it, only that
this added a whole other level to what had seemed like just another
rotten night in her life.
Her father
held the gun steady, even when he swatted the imaginary devils
pestering him. His eyes narrowed on her and in that moment she joined
him in the madness she saw swirling in his gaze.
You or
me?
One of them
wasn't leaving that room alive.
Justin
needs me.
You.
She rushed
him, grabbed the gun, spun her back into his chest, the gun in both
their hands pointed to the window. He tried to wrench it free,
punching her in the ribs with his free hand. She jerked on the gun
again and again and scratched his hand to get him to release it until
he finally let go and the gun thumped onto the floor and skittered
across the scarred hardwood. He shoved her from behind. She stumbled
forward, scooped the gun off the floor, and turned to face him.
Never turn
your back on a psycho.
He leaned
forward and charged her like a wounded beast, murder in his eyes and
a guttural yell that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on
end.
She swung
the gun up and fired. Once. Twice.
Mrs. Wicks
screamed.
Blood
bloomed on his chest. Still he kept coming. His hands fisted in her
T-shirt. He lifted her off her feet and shoved her backward into the
window. Her back and head hit the glass with a crack a split second
before it shattered. Glass tore and bit into her skin, but she didn’t
feel the pain past the one thought in her head. It’s
done.
Justin
screamed, “Gillian, no!”
I'm
sorry.
She flew
through the window.
Her
father’s dark form stood in the opening, highlighted by the lights
behind him. He literally dropped to the floor out of her sight.
Be safe,
Justin. Be happy.
Her body
slammed into the roof of a car with a sickening thud. Everything went
black.
Review:
Rating: ☆☆☆☆☆
Gillian will do anything to protect her little brother from their alcoholic and druggie father. One night he pulled out a gun on her and she fought him for it. She tried hard to make sure Justin didn't end up on the streets. Bud finds out about his granddaughter shooting Ron. He goes to the hospital to see her but she refused to see him. Gillian wants to get Justin out of foster care and her social worker told her is the only way she could get him back was going to Montana and living with her grandfather. So she decided to go to Montana, when she got to the ranch she saw a horse that was abused and she thought that her grandfather did it, he told her that he saved the horse.
Ron is Gillian's father, obsessive need to keep his children close, he is an alcoholic and druggie. Erin is Gillian and Justin's mother, died from an overdose and Bud's daughter. Gillian is Ron's daughter and has protected Justin from their father's abuse. Bud Gillian's Grandfather, Three Peaks Ranch Part owner. Dee is Bud's Wife, she loves to cook. Blake Three Peaks Ranch part owner, head trainer and manager. Justin is Gillian's younger brother.
This book is the second book in the Montana Men series. I truly loved how well this book was written and I loved that I couldn't put this book down. I also loved that the characters were very well developed.
About
the Author:
Jennifer
Ryan is the New York Times & USA Today bestselling author of The
Hunted Series and The McBrides Series. She writes romantic suspense
and contemporary small-town romances featuring strong men and equally
resilient women. Her stories are filled with love, family,
friendship, and the happily-ever-after we all hope to
find.
Jennifer lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband and three children. When she isn’t writing a book, she’s reading one. Her obsession with both is often revealed in the state of her home and in how late dinner is to the table. When she finally leaves those fictional worlds, you’ll find her in the garden, playing in the dirt and daydreaming about people who live only in her head, until she puts them on paper.
Jennifer lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband and three children. When she isn’t writing a book, she’s reading one. Her obsession with both is often revealed in the state of her home and in how late dinner is to the table. When she finally leaves those fictional worlds, you’ll find her in the garden, playing in the dirt and daydreaming about people who live only in her head, until she puts them on paper.
Connect
with the Author:
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/JenRyan_author
Giveaway:
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