Format: ebook
Source: provided for review
Disclaimer: As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.
Date read: September 13, 2021
Green Valley Heroes
1. Forrest for the Trees - Paperback | Kindle
2. Parks and Provocation
3. Letter Late Than Never
4. Peaches and Dreams
5. Young Buck
6. Package Makes Perfect
7. All Fired Up
8. Wild Goose Chase
Kilby Blades
| Website | Amazon |
Synopsis (Goodreads):
Forrest Winters isn’t just a federal fire marshal; he’s a thorn in Ranger Sierra Betts’s side. The way he swings his big axe, fixes her with his chameleon gray eyes, and talks about his jurisdiction has a way of breaking her concentration. He has a way of showing up everywhere he doesn’t belong, including Greenbrier Ranger Station. And he really needs to quit stealing her bacon bites.Thoughts on Forrest for the Trees: Hoo-boy! If I were to say I REALLY enjoyed Forrest and Sierra's push and pull of animosity to friendship to something more, I would probably be understating things. Because I REALLY liked how Forrest worked his way under Sierra's skin and how she went from...oh, hey. I don't quite know how to categorize her feelings toward Forrest at first. She said she loathed him and she almost convinced herself of that, but I don't think it was actual loathing. More like, she made a decision about what sort of person he was after their first meeting and then she worked VERY hard to make him fit into that mold. Even though he didn't.
When a series of suspicious fires, an underhanded co-worker, and a cagey Parks Police Chief threaten her job and the park itself, Sierra grudgingly agrees to partner with Forrest. Their side investigation may be her best shot at preventing the framing of an innocent man. But can his firefighting expertise and her detective skills lead them to the real arsonist before Forrest breaks her with his charm?
Even though part of her KNEW he didn't. He might have gotten on her bad side by breaking her lucky bear and being a rival football team's fan, but he also had a gentlemanly side and he's invested in his job. He's smart and kind and he carries a big axe. He also likes her cooking. Those bacon bites sure don't last long around him.
When suspicious fires and a lackadaisical investigation have the two of them teaming up to figure out what really happened, (yeah, I'm going to say it) sparks fly. Sierra begins to dismantle her preconceived ideas about Forrest and Forrest gets to see more of the smart, funny women he always suspected was under her glowers and snark. To be honest, he also liked that snark. She wasn't afraid to call him on his actions and that worked for him.
Dangerous conditions (wildfires are nothing to mess with!), long looks, an investigation that's dangerous in itself, office politics of the highest order, steamy kisses (and steamy movie watching), and two people who generate plenty of sparks and heat on their own. Did I like? OH YEAH.
Forrest gave Everest a final rub and rose to his feet. “I reckon it’s just good, old-fashioned Southern charm.”
Reaching toward his face, he pushed up the temple of his sunglasses until they sat on top of his head. Forrest looked down at her, smirk on his face, as usual, having his fun. Only, for Sierra, there was nothing fun about the heat that rose to her ears every time his gaze set on her, clouding her thinking with his smoky eyes.
Forrest’s eyes weren’t just gray, and they weren’t “just eyes.” His gaze was penetrating and clear, with dark lashes that matched his dark hair. His irises were never the same, though whatever their hue at any given moment, a dark charcoal ring that looked like drawn pencil outlined the lighter color, adding intensity. Today they shone brightly—the color of wet shale—a stark difference from the last time she’d seen him. They’d turned dark, like slate, when he’d talked about the fires. There was something wondrous, and magical, and devastating about watching the way they changed.
“What are you doing in my neck of the woods?”
Forrest chuckled and crossed his arms. “Your woods again, huh?”
Sierra mirrored his posture. “‘Neck of the woods’ is a Southernism. I know how y’all like your sayings.”
He laughed again, his voice rich and deep—another thing about him she had the bad habit of replaying in her mind.
“Better than a pig likes slop.” Forrest’s eyes twinkled.
It made Sierra grateful for her own sunglasses—windows to her soul, and all. She didn’t want to think what Forrest might notice if he really saw her then. He would never stop gloating if he knew of her susceptibility to his allure.
“You never said what you were doing here,” she pointed out.
“Following up on some potential fire hazards. Just being vigilant. You know how it is …”
Sierra nodded. “I do.”
“I was just down at the ranger station …” he began haltingly. “I wanted to thank you for what you left me—you know, my fire marshal snacks.”
Sierra bit her lip against her own smile. “You liked that, huh?”
“Not just me. The guys thought it was pretty funny.”
“You told me you could read, so I figured …” She trailed off innocently, and shrugged.
After their last conversation and his repeated, willful ignorance of her Tupperware marked specifically as being “Ranger Snacks,” she’d brought in a smaller Tupperware labeled “Fire Marshal Snacks.”
“Sad thing is, a different fire marshal must’ve beat me to it,” he continued. “Imagine my disappointment when I opened the container and it was empty.”
“Oh, no!” She feigned shock. “What did you do?”
“Picked up the phone and called Ed Ellis. Asked him to put out an APB to track down whoever had my bites.”
“Then you helped yourself to the ranger bites, I’m guessing.”
He made a production out of looking distraught. “They’re not as good as fire marshal bites, but I had no choice.”
He didn’t take his gaze off of her. When heat rose again in her ears, she knew she had to go. Plus, if she didn’t get moving, she really would be late.
“Nice to see you, Marshal Winters.”
His smirk melted into a half-smile. “Always a pleasure, Ranger Betts.”
Excerpt
“Do you walk around with bacon in your pocket or something?” Sierra asked.Forrest gave Everest a final rub and rose to his feet. “I reckon it’s just good, old-fashioned Southern charm.”
Reaching toward his face, he pushed up the temple of his sunglasses until they sat on top of his head. Forrest looked down at her, smirk on his face, as usual, having his fun. Only, for Sierra, there was nothing fun about the heat that rose to her ears every time his gaze set on her, clouding her thinking with his smoky eyes.
Forrest’s eyes weren’t just gray, and they weren’t “just eyes.” His gaze was penetrating and clear, with dark lashes that matched his dark hair. His irises were never the same, though whatever their hue at any given moment, a dark charcoal ring that looked like drawn pencil outlined the lighter color, adding intensity. Today they shone brightly—the color of wet shale—a stark difference from the last time she’d seen him. They’d turned dark, like slate, when he’d talked about the fires. There was something wondrous, and magical, and devastating about watching the way they changed.
“What are you doing in my neck of the woods?”
Forrest chuckled and crossed his arms. “Your woods again, huh?”
Sierra mirrored his posture. “‘Neck of the woods’ is a Southernism. I know how y’all like your sayings.”
He laughed again, his voice rich and deep—another thing about him she had the bad habit of replaying in her mind.
“Better than a pig likes slop.” Forrest’s eyes twinkled.
It made Sierra grateful for her own sunglasses—windows to her soul, and all. She didn’t want to think what Forrest might notice if he really saw her then. He would never stop gloating if he knew of her susceptibility to his allure.
“You never said what you were doing here,” she pointed out.
“Following up on some potential fire hazards. Just being vigilant. You know how it is …”
Sierra nodded. “I do.”
“I was just down at the ranger station …” he began haltingly. “I wanted to thank you for what you left me—you know, my fire marshal snacks.”
Sierra bit her lip against her own smile. “You liked that, huh?”
“Not just me. The guys thought it was pretty funny.”
“You told me you could read, so I figured …” She trailed off innocently, and shrugged.
After their last conversation and his repeated, willful ignorance of her Tupperware marked specifically as being “Ranger Snacks,” she’d brought in a smaller Tupperware labeled “Fire Marshal Snacks.”
“Sad thing is, a different fire marshal must’ve beat me to it,” he continued. “Imagine my disappointment when I opened the container and it was empty.”
“Oh, no!” She feigned shock. “What did you do?”
“Picked up the phone and called Ed Ellis. Asked him to put out an APB to track down whoever had my bites.”
“Then you helped yourself to the ranger bites, I’m guessing.”
He made a production out of looking distraught. “They’re not as good as fire marshal bites, but I had no choice.”
He didn’t take his gaze off of her. When heat rose again in her ears, she knew she had to go. Plus, if she didn’t get moving, she really would be late.
“Nice to see you, Marshal Winters.”
His smirk melted into a half-smile. “Always a pleasure, Ranger Betts.”
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About Kilby Blades
Kilby Blades is a USA Today Bestselling author of Romance and Women's Fiction. Her debut novel, Snapdragon, was a HOLT Medallion finalist, a Publisher's Weekly BookLife Prize Semi-Finalist, and an IPPY Award medalist. Kilby was honored with an RSJ Emma Award for Best Debut Author in 2018, and has been lauded by critics for "easing feminism and equality into her novels" (IndieReader) and "writing characters who complement each other like a fine wine does a good meal" (Publisher's Weekly).
During her career as a digital marketing executive, she moonlighted as a journalist, freelanced as a food, wine and travel writer and lived it up as an entertainment columnist. She has lived in five countries, visited more than twenty-five, and spends part of her year in her happy place in the Andes Mountains. Kilby is a feminist, an oenophile, a cinephile, a social-justice fighter, and above all else, a glutton for a good story. Follow her everywhere @kilbyblades.
During her career as a digital marketing executive, she moonlighted as a journalist, freelanced as a food, wine and travel writer and lived it up as an entertainment columnist. She has lived in five countries, visited more than twenty-five, and spends part of her year in her happy place in the Andes Mountains. Kilby is a feminist, an oenophile, a cinephile, a social-justice fighter, and above all else, a glutton for a good story. Follow her everywhere @kilbyblades.
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