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Beyond The Page & Giveaway: “What A Rancher Wants” by Sarah M. Anderson

Feb 4
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What a Rancher Wants FINAL cover 3

The lovely Sarah M. Anderson is on CABR today 🙂

To celebrate the release of her latest Harlequin Desire novel,

WHAT A RANCHER WANTS,

Sarah is sharing an EXCLUSIVE excerpt with CABR followers.

There’s a giveaway too.

Enjoy 🙂

CABRBTP

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What A Rancher Wants 2nd coverBlurb:

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When it comes to the Texas Cattleman’s Club, what a rancher wants, a rancher gets…

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Nothing’s come easy to Chance McDaniel since his best friend betrayed him. And when the deception explodes into a Texas-sized scandal, his best friend’s sister, Gabriella del Toro, shows up to pick up the pieces.

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Now Chance’s luck is about to change. He wants this innocent beauty, and seducing her has become his top priority.

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Gabriella’s sheltered upbringing has always left her wanting more. Now, with this rich rancher, she sees a chance to break free. But will the web of deception her family has woven ensnare her yet again?

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 BUY Links:

Amazon | B&N| Kobo |

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In this EXCLUSIVE excerpt fromWhat A Rancher Wants“, Chance McDaniel – who has been accused of kidnapping his best friend, Alex del Toro  – has just brought Alex’s little sister, Gabriella, home from a failed dinner date.

But even when dinner goes wrong, the date can still end right!

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EXCERPT:

Gabriella grabbed him and hauled his face down to hers. The kiss this time was different—instead of the happy-to-the-point-of-ecstatic kiss that she’d given him yesterday, this one had an edge to it. As though she was trying to prove something.

He couldn’t tell who she was trying to prove it to—him or herself.

Well, she could keep on trying. He wasn’t playing this game. He kept his hands on the wheel.

When her tongue traced his lips, his resolve started to waver. It wavered a whole hell of a lot more when she slid her fingers up into his hair. The feeling of her hands on him did some mighty funny things to him. In fact, the things that were happening below his belt were freaking hilarious.

He couldn’t think. Well, he could, but that wasn’t thinking in a right sense. Instead of thinking about whether or not he could trust her, he was thinking about the way her teeth felt as she nipped at his lower lip.

She pulled away. He couldn’t believe how much it hurt to let her do it, but he kept his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Hell, he was lucky he hadn’t snapped the whole thing off the steering column at this rate.

“Do you want me?” she breathed as she ran her fingers over his cheeks. Her chest was heaving and, in that top, that was saying something. She sounded seductive—hell, she was seductive—but there was something else in her eyes. It almost looked as though she was afraid of what he might say.

Was it a trick question? Because the answer was yes. She may be setting him up but he wasn’t sure he gave a damn.

Don’t be an idiot. He hadn’t asked enough questions when he’d let Cara go. He needed answers almost as much as he needed to pull her into his arms.

“I want the woman who likes to ride and work metal and laughs like butterflies in the breeze. I don’t want the woman who hides lies behind a blank smile.”

He felt her pull away, even though her hands stayed on him. “I am the woman who rides and works metal.” Then she let go of him—but only long enough to duck under his arm that was still holding on to the steering wheel for dear life. She straddled him. Her slim black skirt—the one that made her backside look even better than a pair of jeans ever could—bunched up at her hips. “That’s who I am.”

His arms were shaking from the effort of not touching her. Because he wasn’t. No way in hell. She was doing this. She was doing all of this.

She leaned her forehead against him. Her thighs—strong from years of riding—gripped his and he felt the tantalizing heat of her center through his jeans. How strong did one man have to be? Because a lesser man would wrap his arms around her and take what she was offering.

But taking a woman with an audience—if Joaquin was still watching from the stoop or if he’d gone inside and alerted Alex or her father of what was happening—was too stupid of a risk to take. So, even though it was the most painful thing he could remember doing—way more painful than getting kicked by that calf in the shin when he was ten—he kept his hands on the steering wheel.

It only got worse when she kissed him again—a kiss that started out soft and gentle and maybe even a little hesitant—just like her. Then it got hot, fast. Her hips ground down on his and she pressed those beautiful breasts against his chest. Only some lousy clothes separated them. That was not a whole lot and way, way too much.

He pulled his head back, but the rest of him had no place to go. She had him pinned. “Don’t lie to me, Gabriella. I won’t stand for it.”

She nodded, looking sad and sensual at the same time. That, almost more than her sweet body or sweeter face, made him want to wrap her up and hold her tight. “This is the truth, Chance. I ride. I work metal. And you make me laugh. That’s who I am. That’s who I get to be with you.” Her fingers traced a path from his cheeks to his jaw, as though she was exploring him when what she was really doing was burning him with her touch. “No one else. Just you.”

He shouldn’t believe her. She was setting him up and sooner or later, he was going to fall—hard.

Hell, he was already falling for the woman who’d had smudges of soot on her forehead the whole time they’d sat by the bank of his dry creek. He was already falling for the woman who was perfectly comfortable chatting with Franny or working with Slim, for the woman who saddled her own horse and rode hell-for-leather.

He wanted that woman to be the one in his arms. God, he’d never wanted anything so bad.

Then she said in a breathy whisper, “That’s who I am, because of you,” and he felt lost to her.

This time, he was the one doing the kissing. He managed to keep his hands on the wheel because if he didn’t, he’d be pulling her shirt over her head and trying to get his buckle undone and filling his hands with her soft skin.

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 BUY Links:

Amazon | B&NKobo |

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Sarah M Anderson pictureABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Award-winning author Sarah M. Anderson may live east of the Mississippi River, but her heart lies out west on the Great Plains. With a lifelong love of horses and two history teachers for parents, it wasn’t long before her characters found themselves out in South Dakota among the Lakota Sioux.

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She loves to put people from two different worlds into new situations and to see how their backgrounds and cultures take them someplace they never thought they’d go.

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When not helping out at school or walking her rescue dogs, Sarah spends her days having conversations with imaginary cowboys and American Indians, all of which is surprisingly well-tolerated by her wonderful husband and son.

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CONTACT THE AUTHOR:

Website | Twitter @SarahMAnderson1| Facebook |

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Giveaway

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4 Comments

  • Jan Vanengen says:

    Wow. Nice one Sarah 😉 Love the way your hubby and son tolerate your cowboys and Indians, mine is photos of hot men… hehehe #Research

  • Jan Vanengen says:

    Favourite part holding on to that steering wheel for dear life 😉

  • Lori Meehan says:

    My favorite part was this: When her tongue traced his lips, his resolve started to waver. It wavered a whole hell of a lot more when she slid her fingers up into his hair. The feeling of her hands on him did some mighty funny things to him. In fact, the things that were happening below his belt were freaking hilarious. Loved it.

  • Janine says:

    This time, he was the one doing the kissing. He managed to keep his hands on the wheel because if he didn’t, he’d be pulling her shirt over her head and trying to get his buckle undone and filling his hands with her soft skin.

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