Reviews/Awards:
• Winner 2007 San Diego RWA's Spring
Into Romance Contest
•
2nd place 2007 PASIC Book of Your Heart Contest, contemporary
series
"I thought Kentucky Woman wonderfully portrays
the struggles of a single parent in a realist fashion that
many can relate to. Alexis was a woman who was determined
to provide the very best for her son; however, she wasn’t
willing to settle for anything just to stay ahead of the
game. She carefully weighed out all of her options before
she agreed to marry Jack. Jack had a compassionate nature.
When it came to Alexis, he was very protective and wouldn’t
allow any harm to come to her. The only problem that both
Jack and Alexis possessed was the fear of rejection, and
because of this fear neither was willing to publicly admit
the love for one another. I really enjoyed the interaction
between the couple has they battled to build a relationship
beyond their hurtful past experiences." Reviewed by Nikita
Steele, Joyfully
Reviewed
 "The
Bluegrass Reunion books are my first experience with this
author, but she is quickly earning a fan with her smooth
writing and down-to-earth characters. I look forward to continuing
my journey with the rest of the books in this series." Rated
4 ½ Delightful Divas by Melissa!
 "How this couple found their happily ever
after led us down several roads with lots of turns. I knew
they would end up together, but I couldn’t have imagined
how. My love of Ms. Scarbrough’s work has only increased
after reading this book. She is quickly becoming a must read
for me. I highly recommend this book to everyone." - Reviewer:
Brenda Talley
 KENTUCKY
WOMAN, book two in the Bluegrass Reunion series, is a beautifully
written contemporary, capturing the struggles of a single
mother wonderfully. Jan Scarbrough created such wonderful
characters. I related to Alex on many levels, warming to
her character from the beginning. Both the hero and the heroine
are family oriented and goal driven with a strong sense of
duty. The fears of rejection and hurt they face and their
compassionate nature is touching. I can’t wait for
book three in this wonderful series.
Excerpt:
Trackside Training Facility
Louisville, Kentucky
Times were good and that scared her.
Alexis Marsden shifted in her saddle and stared into the February
predawn darkness between the pricked ears of an anxious two-year-old
Thoroughbred. The cold seeped into her bones with brittle clarity.
Frosty mist hugged the quiet infield lake, lending a ghostly
appearance to the half-mile oval track and deserted grandstands.
The fog added an aura of peace to the setting.
A peace Alex didn’t feel.
Instead, a razor-sharp blade of anticipation etched her heart
as if something was about to happen. Or her life was about
to change.
She didn’t want her life to change, thank you. Not now.
Not after all the hard work she had done to make it almost
perfect. She had everything she wanted—career, family,
independence, and an avocation she loved in exercising Uncle
Johnny’s horses in the morning before going to her nine
to five desk job. Okay, she didn’t have a “relationship” and
her young son didn’t have a father. But even that was
working out. Being both mom and dad wasn’t so hard.
Alex seized the bottom of her lip hard—as hard as the
guilt racing through her heart. Was it wrong to be glad Tyler
hadn’t known his dad? Brandon, the man she had once loved,
and the man who had abandoned her, had been killed two weeks
ago. Now Tyler would never have the chance.
The colt beneath her tossed his head. Come on, he was telling
her. Let’s go!
Alex shook off the premonition and willed herself to relax. “Easy,
Greco,” she soothed, placing a quiet hand on the restless
youngster’s neck. His muscles quivered beneath the touch
of her leather glove. “Easy, boy.”
Snorting his impatience, the colt danced sideways. Alex sucked
in a breath of frigid air. Time to get to work.
She pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her riding helmet,
buying a little protection against the bitter wind, and flexed
her already tingling fingers inside her riding gloves. Greco’s
neck arched, disputing her firm control, and she let the thick
reins slide a notch through her grip. The sleek chestnut moved
forward and stepped onto the sandy footing of the exercise
track.
She clucked once. Greco picked up a jog. Alex posted up and
down to the rhythm of his slow trot, and turning the wrong
way on the oval track along the outside rail, she let the colt
warm up slowly. She felt his pent up energy in each springy
step.
When she finally turned again, moving closer to the inner
rail for the gallop, the sky in the east had washed pink. The
rising sun, still hidden by clouds, gilded rose-colored streaks
across the ragged gray fleece overhead. Alex savored the splendor
of the morning sky exposed in all its glory over the expanse
of infield.
It was always like this in the mornings. She watched the horses
peppering different points of the training track—slower
ones to the outside, some jogging, others galloping, while
others breezed next to the inner rail or worked at near-race
speed. Her heart surged with joy. Oh, she loved it.
Alex flicked her tongue across her chilled lips. “Time
to go, boy.”
Now loosening her hold on the reins, she clucked once more.
Immediately the colt moved into a smooth gallop. The animal’s
naturally long gait stretched out. Powerful muscles coursed
between Alex’s legs. She stood in the stirrups, bowing
over the colt’s neck, and shortened the reins to keep
from going faster than Johnny had ordered.
The dirt track flowed beneath her. Wind stung her face, chasing
tears from her eyes and breaching the protection of her sweats,
but she didn’t care. Blood ran warm in her veins, and
her heart pumped with exhilaration.
She stared between the colt’s ears—beacons into
the animal’s soul, relaxing and twitching forward and
back, listening to her soft crooning or pricking toward the
track ahead.
In another stride, Greco’s ears flattened. Danger!
In a heartbeat Alex registered Greco’s signal. Ahead
someone shouted. Hooves pounded. Out of the gloom, a runaway
horse hurtled straight toward them like a ghostly specter in
a bad dream.
Instinct kicked in. Ducking her head to look over her right
shoulder, Alex saw the track immediately behind them was clear.
She pulled the right rein and sharply jammed her boot into
the colt’s left side.
At a full gallop, Greco swerved hard. The runaway came on.
Too fast. Too near. A flapping stirrup nicked Alex’s
left thigh.
Adrenaline spurred her pulse. The harsh beat of fear thudded
against her ribs and left her head spinning. Alex shook off
the panic. Acting again on instinct, she steadied her horse
and regained her balance, glancing back. Other horses and riders
scattered right and left while an outrider closed in on the
frightened runaway.
Entering the turn, Alex eased Greco to a walk. On the other
side of the rail, she spotted the unseated rider. Shaken, but
apparently unhurt, he was slowly climbing to his feet. An ambulance
sped down the track.
It was surreal—as if she watched a slow motion movie.
She could have been lying there instead. Or what if it was
Johnny’s special colt sprawled on the track seriously
injured? A horse had been killed not long ago at Churchill
Downs in a head-on crash with a runaway in the morning gloom.
She turned Greco toward the barns and nudged him into a jog.
Alex swallowed hard, forcing down queasiness. Her intuition
had proved right. Something had happened. Thank heavens, she’d
averted disaster and her life wasn’t going to change
after all.
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