This could be her toughest assignment yet
Having witnessed her fatherâs death in a race-car crash, Joanna Dace canât imagine getting close to anyone who risks his life for sport. But she can write about them. Keeping her professional distance lets her get inside anyoneâs head without letting that person into her heart. Until she meets her latest subjectâprofessional bull rider Tom Cameron. Tom has a quiet cowboy charm and a darkness beneath his rugged surface. Itâs difficult to remember all the reasons she should keep her distance, but Jo has to try...unless itâs already too late.
Finally it was Tom Cameronâs turn.
He eased down into one of the chutes near Joâs seat, this time facing her. She could see his intense concentration as he wrapped the rope around his hand and settled his mouthpiece. The bull stood still as a statue except for its mule ears waving like antennae.
A slight nod and the gate swung wide. Gunslinger erupted into the arena with all four feet off the ground, changing direction in midair. Cameron still clung to the bullâs back, but off center so that the next spin shot him off like a rock out of a slingshot. He struck the metal panel directly below Joâs section with a crash and lay still. The eight-second buzzer sounded.
Madison Square Garden went dead quiet. Someoneâs cell phone brayed, harsh in the silence. Two men from the sports medicine team and one of the bullfighters ran to the spot where Cameron lay. Jo heard someone say, âHey, Tomâcan you hear me?â An indistinct response. âYou want to walk out?â A grunt of assent and Cameron climbed to his feet. The crowd cheered as he left the arena supported by two of the medics.
Jo sank back in her seat.
Thanks for joining me for the second book in the Cameronâs Pride series. I hope youâll enjoy reading about Tom Cameron and his trials and triumphs both in and out of the professional bull-riding arena. Iâve done my best to take you into the heart of the competition along with journalist Jo Dace as she profiles an athlete involved in the most dangerous eight seconds in sports.
Iâd love to hear from you if you enjoy The Bull Rider or if the story piques your curiosity about professional bull riding. Feel free to contact me at [email protected]. Enjoy the ride!
Helen DePrima
HELEN DePRIMA grew up on horseback on her grandfatherâs farm near Louisville, Kentucky. After spending a week on a dude ranch in Colorado when she was twelve, Helen fell in love with all things Western.
She spent wonderful weeks on the same ranch during her high school summers. After graduation she headed for the University of Colorado to meet the cowboy of her dreams and live happily ever after in a home on the range. Instead she fell in love with a Jersey boy bound for vet school. She earned her degree in nursing and spent four years as a visiting nurse in northern Colorado while her husband attended Colorado State University.
After her husband graduated, they settled in New Hampshire, where Helen worked first in nursing and then rehabilitating injured and orphaned wildlife. After retirement, she turned again to earlier passions: writing and the West, particularly professional bull riding.
To my husband for keeping my eye on the prize.
Acknowledgments
To my agent, Stephany Evans, for her encouragement and hand-holding.
To Dana Grimaldi for her deft editorial touch.
To my First Reader, Melissa Maupin, for her enthusiastic involvement and feedback.
To Earlene Fowler for her prayers and sanity.
To Will Georgantas for his interest and timely gift.
To Carrie Weir of Tennessee Childrenâs Services for the valuable information she provided regarding adoption procedures in her state.
And especially to everyone involved with the Professional Bull Riders who make this series a labor of love.
CHAPTER ONE
MADISON SQUARE GARDEN had gone cowboy crazy this Sunday in January, with wall-to-wall boots and jeans, denim jackets and wide-brimmed hats. Joanna Dace reflected with wry amusement that her black turtleneck, leggings and ankle boots marked her as a newcomer to the sport of professional bull riding.
A plump blonde wriggled into the third-row seat next to Joâs and smoothed the fringes on her red satin shirt. âArenât these great seats? My husband says get the best you can buyâthatâs your Christmas present.â She patted the knee of the burly man seated next to her.