Do You Hear What I Hear? [Hoofbeats And Heartstrings Book One]

Available in Print

As a child, Simone Littleton adores the European folktale that animals are given the gift of speech at midnight on Christmas Eve. She makes a wish to talk to animals "forever and ever" and, when her pet Dalmatian asks her for a biscuit, she discovers her wish has been granted. Now Simone is all grown up and she uses her unique gift to rehabilitate unwanted horses. When racehorse trainer Chet Wallace rolls into San Antonio, with chocolate eyes and dimples blazing beneath his black Stetson, romantic sparks fly. He is immediately drawn to the beautiful woman who has a mesmerizing affect on both his horses and his dog, but his less than enthusiastic response to Simone's claims threatens their budding romance. It takes a scheming Jack Russell terrier and a dose of Christmas magic to convince Chet she just may be telling the truth.

Rose
PRINT ISBN 1-60154-357-3
(204 Pages) Rating (Sweet)

Excerpt

She made no effort to hide her irritation and scowled at the man who had snuck up behind her. "Who are you and what do you want?"

"Whoa. I'm sorry if I interrupted. I was hoping you might be able to give me a hand with a horse." The offending party held up his hands in surrender.

Simone's cheeks burned with embarrassment. What was she thinking? She had enough trouble attracting new clients without being openly hostile. "I'm sorry, too. You startled me. It was obviously an innocent mistake." Now that she had her wits about her, she took a good look at the man standing next to her. He was quite handsome, so much so that she stumbled on her words. "Wh-what can I do for you?"

"My name's Chet Wallace." He tipped the edge of his black Stetson. "I just got here this week with a string of horses from the California circuit." California. No wonder he looked so tan and healthy. She noticed he spoke with a Southern drawl, though. She also couldn't help noticing the Jack Russell Terrier weaving around his muddy boots. The scruffy, little dog was predominantly white, with a large, brandy-colored spot on the tip of one ear.

"You're a trainer?"

"Yes ma'am. A trainer and owner. One of my stallions is a real mess right now. I can barely get him out of his stall and he refuses to even set foot on the track. He hasn't been exercised all week and I'm pretty much at my wits end. Do you have time to take a look for me?" He smiled and looked at Simone, his chocolate eyes questioning, dimples dancing in his sun-kissed face.

Simone's throat went dry and she tried to muster up an appropriate response. "Absolutely." How could she refuse? A new client complete with movie-star good looks, strapping shoulders and a winning smile. Did it get any better? "Just let me finish up. I'll be right over. Where are your stalls?"