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 “Kudos Ms. Crowne, this saucy little country number is a toe tapping good time that is sure to put smiles on faces!” RONE’ Winner InDTale

“…a big satisfying, feel good HEA ending. A must read.” ~ Long and Short Reviews Best Book. Voted Book of the Month by LASR Readers.

A SONG FOR SOPHIE

*Available at*

The Wild Rose Press

Barnes and Noble

 Amazon.com

 

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Jobless, practically homeless, and tired of being manless, Sophie Taylor jumps at the chance to be Beaumont Walker’s personal assistant. Six weeks on the road with country music’s bad boy—and, more importantly, his all-male crew—is the perfect opportunity to change her life.

Beau Walker doesn’t need any more distractions. Sophie, with her butt-ugly suits and balls-to-the-wall attitude, shouldn’t be one, but she proves to be distracting and more—even, surprisingly, a friend. So when he discovers her plan to snag a man from his worldly wise crew, he’s determined to protect her from herself.

 

Excerpt:

 

“What’s the problem?”

 

“No problem.” Sophie pulled a container of yogurt from her oversized bag. She leaned over to meet his gaze where he stood in the dirt parking lot. “I’ll be waiting right here when you’re through.” 

 

Right here was the buttery soft back seat of the limo that had delivered them to his luncheon appointment with his mother. She’d never been in a limo before, and planned to investigate all the buttons and gadgets the moment he disappeared inside the restaurant and bar at his back. Beau, she discovered, had other plans.

 

“Oh, no you don’t.” He stepped back to the open door, reached inside and grabbed her wrist. With a tug, he pulled her from the car, ignoring her indignant, “Hey!” and began dragging her across the lot.

 

She dug in her heels, forcing him to stop. She held up her yogurt. “I’d rather eat in the car.”

 

He plucked the container from her hand. “You’re coming with me. If I know Savanna, she’ll have at least one candidate for her future daughter-in-law with her, if not two.”

 

“You call your mother Savanna?”

 

He shook his head. “I tell you my mother is a matrimonial pimp, and that’s all you have to say?”

 

“You’re serious?” She arched her brows in disbelief.

 

“Hell yes, I’m serious.”

 

“Oh please, she can’t be that bad.”

 

“She’s worse. Savanna never misses an opportunity to dangle a potential mate in front of me. As my lunch date, you can run interference.”

 

His lunch date? Was he insane? His definition of a personal assistant was obviously different than hers. “Now, just a minute.”

 

He ignored her, pulling her toward the wood paneled building. She blinked up the neon star mounted above the door. A flashing steer rode above the sign announcing the Lonesome Steer Honky Tonk. A few miles outside of Amarillo, she’d driven by the popular bar occasionally, but had never been inside.

 

“A honky tonk? Really? This isn’t the kind of place I’d expect to find your mother.”

 

He kept a tight hold on her wrist when she tried to jerk free. “Savanna started her career on the Lonesome Steer’s tiny stage. She makes a point to stop in to see the owner whenever she’s in town.”

 

He yanked open the door and pulled her in behind him. Her eyes were slow to adjust to the dim light after the bright sunshine outside. She blinked, glancing around as the door thumped shut behind them. Surprisingly busy for a weekday afternoon, most of the round wooden tables were occupied beyond the large, empty dance floor.

 

Heads turned at their arrival. Several of the diners called out greetings while others jabbed elbows at their companions and nodded in Beau’s direction. She spoke through gritted teeth.

 

“Unless you want me to cause a scene in front of your adoring fans, I suggest you let go of my wrist.”

 

She would never cause a scene, but he didn’t know her well enough yet to know that. He let go of her wrist, transferring his hand to the small of her back. She turned back toward the door. He brought her up short by bunching a handful of her suit jacket in his fist.

 

Then again, sometimes a scene was warranted.