Reviews/Awards:
The
readers at Love Romance Cafe e-mail loop have voted for
the Best Contemporary Book in 2009 and selected Kentucky
Bride as Honorable Mention!
 "Once
again Ms. Jan Scarbrough has given us a glimpse into the
world of horses and the lifestyle of owning and showing them.
Her writing style is one that has impressed me so much that
I’ve put her at, or near, the top of my “must
read” list. This is another in the ongoing series of
Kentucky and horseshows and renewed relationships.
Her characters are dynamic yet expressive. They are vulnerable
but sensitive. The chemistry is explosive between the two
main characters. The way this couple reconciled was poignant.
The down-to-earth actions of all the characters made this
fast-paced book a page turner. I loved this offering from
Scarbrough. Each book I read is my favorite! I highly recommend
this book to everyone." The
Romance Studio: Reviewer: Brenda
Talley
"Overall, I enjoyed the tale that Jan Scarbrough wove around
these characters. I was satisfied with their ending and would
be happy to read another book by Ms. Scarbrough." Rated
3 ½ Delightful
Divas by Melissa!
"Kentucky Bride, because it is so short, is fast paced,
yet slow enough to enjoy." 3 ½ stars
Night Owl Romance
Excerpt:
Holt Stables
Near Simpsonville, Kentucky
Jimmy
Burke needed her. Aimee knew that for sure. Watching the
gnarled hands of her employer and mentor as they tightened
the saddle girth and adjusted the curb chain was proof enough.
Jimmy’s mind was still sharp, but his body was letting
him down. Debilitated by severe arthritis, unable to ride,
he could train the American Saddlebred horses under his care
only with her help—with her following his instructions
and being his hands and legs in the saddle.
“Ready?” Jimmy
asked, standing on the other side of the horse with his
hand on the right stirrup iron.
Aimee pulled on her leather gloves and nodded. She positioned
herself with one hand on the reins and the other on the back
of the saddle. Sticking her boot into the stirrup, she swung
into the saddle, adjusting her seat and gathering her double
reins. She glanced down at Jimmy for instruction.
He ran
a practiced hand over the gelding’s well muscled
shoulder, trying to keep the big chestnut calm. “This
is a good ’‘un,” he said, his voice revealing
his admiration for good horseflesh. “Champions on both
sides of his pedigree. Excellent show record, but still young.
Let’s take it slow this morning and see what this big
boy can do.”
Anticipation
pulsed through Aimee’s veins. The huge
horse with the improbable name of “Wedded Bliss” had
arrived at the barn yesterday morning, and this was her first
time on his back. She loved her job. Loved working with Jimmy
and learning his techniques. Loved discovering what made
a good horse tick and how to get the best performance from
every equine athlete she rode.
Pressing
her legs against the Saddlebred’s side, she
signaled the horse to move forward. Rodney, the groom who
stood at the horse’s head, jumped out of the way as
Wedded Bliss shot forward, already dancing with eagerness
for his morning workout. Making a mental note not to ask
Bliss so severely with her calves, Aimee tried to relax.
But with one thousand pounds of high strung horse between
her legs, it was hard to do.
Continuing
at a flat walk, they entered the spacious indoor arena
that smelled of cedar shavings. Jimmy didn’t
have a facility of his own, but leased eight or nine stalls
at Bob Holt’s training barn near Simpsonville. Jimmy
had worked for many big stables in his seventy-odd years,
and trained for many wealthy clients, including her dad.
Now he only accepted a handful of horses from select owners.
Times had been hard for the hall-of-fame trainer, but Jimmy
had persevered as always. What did he always say? When you
fall from the saddle, pick yourself up and climb back on.
Jimmy
took his position in the center of the arena, resting one
lean hip on a wooden stool. Aimee glanced his way, gratitude
rising in her chest. If Jimmy hadn’t believed in her,
trusted her talent, and had faith in her willingness to give
it her all, she would be stuck in Chicago right now. Stuck
on the “Elliott dole.”
Being
the only child of a millionaire had its advantages. She
had learned to ride at the age of five and spent the
next twenty years in the saddle thanks to her mother’s
indulgence and her father’s money. She loved riding
and she loved horses. A champion equestrienne in her teens,
she now hoped to turn her riding expertise into a career
as a professional horse trainer.
But being
Ray and Martha Elliott’s daughter had its
drawbacks too. She had not been allowed a life of her own.
Expected to be the dutiful daughter and make a “good” marriage,
she had finally rebelled. It was time to stand up for what
she wanted in life and she’d made the break. She was
a big girl now, with a real job, a job someone needed her
to do.
Besides,
how could she be assured that the men she met—the
men who proclaimed undying love—actually loved her
for herself? She was Ray Elliott’s daughter wasn’t
she? An heiress to a fortune. And she’d been burned
one too many times.
“Ease on into a trot,” Jimmy
called from his position in the middle of the arena.
Aimee nodded. She shortened her reins and clucked softly,
prepared to use her whip if the horse needed urging. Instead
the gelding exploded into a trot. Adjusting to the surprise
of his raring-to-go gait, Aimee went with him a few paces
before beginning to post.
“Whoopee!” Jimmy stepped away from the stool
and turned to watch her as she circled the arena. “Just
let him go!”
Aimee
did as she was told. She spent the next twenty minutes
on the ride of her life, following Jimmy’s instructions
and getting to know her new charge. Riding Wedded Bliss was
like riding liquid adrenaline. He put out two hundred percent
during the work out. By the time they were through, Aimee
found herself panting hard. Bliss had barely broken a sweat.
“I don’t think you need that whip,” Jimmy
said with a laugh as she rode into the center of the arena
and parked out. He removed the riding crop from her left
hand.
“I don’t think so either,” Aimee agreed,
knowing her boss was pleased with what he’d seen and
so was she.
“What’s the verdict on my horse?” A
deep voice cut in.
Aimee’s head jerked up and she gazed between the horse’s
ears to see an elegantly dressed stranger in a gray Armani
business suit walking toward them. Didn’t he care about
ruining those shiny Gucci shoes?
When the man reached them, he shook hands with Jimmy. Aimee
sat deeper in the saddle, shifting her weight and stretching
her legs. Her chest tightened as a sixth sense alerted her
to trouble.
Cam?
Then the man glanced up at her. They made eye contact and
his bone-melting smile almost unseated her.
She straightened
herself in the saddle, aware of her labored breathing.
Her one-time lover was as dangerously sexy as
she remembered, with hair the color of steaming café mocha
and a face classically chiseled like a male model’s.
His eyes were dark too, brown, and as before, they seemed
to see right into her core. She stirred in the saddle again
as that familiar current of attraction sizzled between them.
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