RANCH HAND BY DEANNA WADSWORTH : REVIEW


HIS RANCH HAND (WESTERN PASSIONS BOOK 1) BY DEANNA WADSWORTH

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁

Cowboys don't cry.


West of the Pecos, if a man shows a vulnerable side, his last glimpse of this life might be at the end of a barrel.


Cowboy and drifter, Myron Poste shrouds his life in mystery, carefully following a strict code to stay alive. Fellow ranch hand Cade Buchanan is big, hairy, and strongβ€”not the sort of man to trifle with.


One fateful night while driving a herd of Longhorns north to Santa Fe, Cade confronts Myron. With the swiftness of a West Texas wind, desire seizes control and a passionate affair begins. Pride has always held Myron back, but he can no longer deny his submissive nature when Cade gives him just what he cravesβ€”pure, lustful dominance.


When the drive ends, they must part ways. Will the memories of their untamed passion under the big Texas sky be powerful enough to reunite them?




π‘π„π•πˆπ„π–

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️


This story is set in the Wild West at a time that being gay was considered unacceptable.


Myron is a lonely cowboy who craves to be dominated by another man. But instead, he hides these dark desires and tries to abide by society's expectations from him.

Cade is a fellow ranch hand, he is strong, big and hairy and everything Myron craves.


When the attraction between them can't be denied any longer, they begin a torrid affair.

The chemistry between Myron and Cade is explosive and undeniable, but will it simmer down when the journey ends, or burn brighter each day they spend in each other's company?


Two hot Cowboys with an undeniable chemistry between them? Sign me up!

This one was steamy and so very hot.

The characters were relatable and very well sketched out.


If you like sexy Cowboys, lots of steamy self discovery and light BDSM, you will love this!


𝑰 π’˜π’‚π’π’•π’†π’… 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 π’Žπ’‚π’ 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒖𝒕 π’Žπ’† 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 π’‰π’Šπ’” 𝒍𝒂𝒑 𝒂𝒏𝒅 π’”π’‘π’‚π’π’Œ π’Žπ’†, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓. π‘΄π’‚π’šπ’ƒπ’† π’•π’Šπ’† π’Žπ’† π’…π’π’˜π’ 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 π’‡π’–π’„π’Œ π’Žπ’†β€¦β€ π‘―π’Šπ’” π’—π’π’Šπ’„π’† π’„π’‰π’π’Œπ’†π’… 𝒐𝒇𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒅 π’Šπ’• π’”π’–π’“π’‘π’“π’Šπ’”π’†π’… π’‰π’Šπ’Ž π’˜π’‰π’†π’ π‘ͺ𝒂𝒅𝒆’𝒔 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅 π’π’Šπ’‘π’” π’„π’π’‚π’Šπ’Žπ’†π’… π’‰π’Šπ’”.

π‘ͺ𝒂𝒅𝒆 π’…π’“π’†π’˜ π’ƒπ’‚π’„π’Œ π’‡π’“π’π’Ž 𝒕𝒉𝒆 π’Œπ’Šπ’”π’”, π’”π’•π’“π’π’Œπ’Šπ’π’ˆ π’‰π’Šπ’” π’„π’‰π’†π’†π’Œπ’”, π’…π’π’˜π’ π’‰π’Šπ’” π’π’†π’„π’Œ 𝒕𝒐 π’Žπ’‚π’”π’”π’‚π’ˆπ’† π’‰π’Šπ’” 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔. 𝑨 π’ˆπ’“π’†π’‚π’• π’˜π’†π’Šπ’ˆπ’‰π’• 𝒐𝒇 π’”π’‰π’‚π’Žπ’† π’π’Šπ’‡π’•π’†π’… 𝒐𝒇𝒇 π‘΄π’šπ’“π’π’ 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 π’ˆπ’†π’π’•π’π’† 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒔𝒐 π’Žπ’–π’„π’‰ 𝒂𝒔 π’˜π’‰π’†π’ π‘ͺ𝒂𝒅𝒆 π’˜π’‰π’Šπ’”π’‘π’†π’“π’†π’…, β€œπ‘° 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅. 𝑰 𝒅𝒐. 𝑩𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑰 π’˜π’‚π’π’π’‚ 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 π’Žπ’‚π’, 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒔 π’Žπ’–π’„π’‰ 𝒂𝒔 π’šπ’π’– π’˜π’‚π’π’π’‚ 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 π’˜π’‰π’π’“π’†.”




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