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Series: Dirty Cowboy, #1




Eight seconds to glory. One second to lose it all.

Bowen Barclay lived to ride bulls - until his single-minded focus cost his wife her life. Four years on, raising his son alone is the only thing he’s getting right. His rodeo career is going down in flames and instead of dating, he’s playing his kid’s video games.

Paisley Ackerly loves to sing. Loudly and offkey, but in the privacy of her rundown home, it’s only her children she’s torturing. Until her ten-year-old leaves his gaming console on, with a handsome cowboy still on the webcam, listening to every word.

Being accused of internet creepery isn’t the best way to meet a woman, but when an instant spark ignites between the two, it isn’t long before online chat spills over into real life dirty talk.

But while Paisley might love Bowen’s filthy mouth, when the pressures of his public career and her secret past explode, words won’t be enough to save them.

This single-parent romance brings the steam against a backdrop of professional bull riding, rodeo, and small-town cowboys.

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Here's a taste of what's inside!

“Lily? What’s wrong?” I knelt in front her tiny five-year-old body and scanned her for any obvious sign of injury. She seemed okay—no bleeding wounds or bones at odd angles. A little of my mommy panic ebbed away.


She shook her blonde head sadly, then whispered, “I don’t feel so good.”


I didn’t even have time to flinch before she hurled her dinner up.


All over me.


I scrunched my eyes and mouth shut, whipping my head away just in time to miss the second wave, which landed all over her, the carpet, and again, me.


As her heaving was replaced with sobbing, I dared to survey the carnage. And oh, as soon as I opened my eyes, I wished I hadn’t. Because it was bad. So very bad.


“Sorry, Momma,” Lily whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks.


I gathered her shaking form up in my arms and recoiled when I touched her burning-hot skin. Whoa. Where had that fever come from? I held her for a moment, debating my options, then decided that the first order of business was getting both of us in a shower.


The doorbell rang when I was halfway down the stairs with my vomit-covered parcel. “Aiden! Could you grab that, please?”


I shifted Lily’s weight, peering over her and carefully watching the stairs to be sure I didn’t fall. Because wouldn’t that just top this evening off. A vision of Lily and me rolling down the stairs, spreading puke everywhere as we went, flashed through my mind and I almost laughed. It was either that or cry.


I took the last step, landing in the living room, right as Aiden screamed, “Mom! It’s for you!”


I froze.


Bowen, all six foot something of delicious, clean, and rugged man, stood in my foyer.


“Hello, Paisley.”

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