Montana Wild by Kira Berger

| June 25, 2020 | 0 Comments


MONTANA WILD by Kira Berger

Release Date: July 15, 2020

Cover Design: Pink Ink Designs

Genre: Contemporary Romance
Trope: Enemies to lovers


To the outside world, my life looked perfect. As an equestrian jumper on her way to the Olympics, I’ve seemingly overcome the adversity of my past and became the underdog everyone can root for.

Until one mistake sent my life and career into a downward spiral.

Only I know the truth of the lies and manipulation behind the glitz and glamor that led me here. For fourteen years, I’ve been running from a past I couldn’t bring myself to face. It’s time to confront the source of the pain that haunts me.

It’s time to go home… to Montana.

Being judged by people who don’t know me is nothing new. Though, when a handsome stranger with a chiseled jaw-line and rugged good looks shows me that everyone in town already condemned me, I start to doubt my decision to come home. How can I not when my past is their present?

Still, I’ve come in search of answers, and I’m not leaving without them. More than a decade ago my world fell apart. To embrace all the future has to offer, it’s time to uncover my family’s deeply buried secrets.






A sudden bang disrupts the stillness surrounding us. The colt’s head jerks up, the loud noise clearly frightening him. The unexpected movement while I’m distracted for a second by whoever made the noise sends me staggering back, only to trip over my own feet. I land hard on my back, jarring my injured shoulder. Pain unlike anything I remember ever feeling before shoots through my body, causing me to cry out and tears to spring to my eyes. I don’t notice the footsteps running toward me, I’m too busy gritting my teeth and trying to breathe through the pain shooting down my body.

I continue to blink at the ceiling, not paying attention to what it is going on around me, when a shadow falls over me.

“Are you okay?” a familiar voice asks me.

“Yeah,” I groan through the pain, still not quite able to make out the face hovering over me.

“Where’s your sling?”

Unable to process his question, I keep blinking until his face finally comes into focus, and I’m stunned stupid. Blue eyes intermixed with a steely-gray stare down at me from a face that reminds me of a Roman god, all sharp edges and straight lines. His dirty blond hair is messy, like he ran his hand through it one too many times. Unable to help myself, my eyes fall to his full lips. It was only when said lips start to twitch into a smile, I realize what I’m doing and my eyes snap back up to his.

“What?” I stammer, trying to get my brain to work while telling myself it’s only the pain I’m currently in that is making me act like an idiot.

“I asked where your sling was at. You’re supposed to wear it all the time, aren’t you?” The smile is gone, replaced with what looks close to reproach.

Deciding to ignore his question because I know not wearing that stupid sling isn’t smart, and I’m not about to tell this stranger that I can’t put it on by myself without crying in pain, I ask, “Who are you?”

“I’m Kade Reed.”

As soon as the name leaves his lips I freeze, and all attraction I felt toward him vanishes into the ether—or so I tell myself. So, this is the guy who thinks talking shit about a person he doesn’t know is acceptable.

What a shame it’s always the gorgeous ones who turn out to be jerks.

He must have felt the change in me because his eyebrows pull together, and he asks, “Are you okay, Montana?”

So, he knows who I am. Which means I imagined the friendly, maybe even flirty, smile he sent my way when I was staring at him. Just as well.

“No, this floor is freezing. And my shoulder is killing me. Now move so I can get up,” I say, barely containing the sarcasm. At my tone his face changes, no surprise there since this probably only confirms his opinion of me. But I long ago decided, about the time when I realized I can’t force either one of my parents love me, to never again try to prove myself to someone else in order to make them like me. Either they do or they don’t, but their opinion isn’t going to define me. Not anymore.

He moves back before he offers me his hand to help me up. Knowing it would only hurt more to do it by myself, I grasp his hand. A zing of awareness races through me at the contact of our skin. Something I’ve never felt before. Stunned for a second, I let him pull me to my feet without much help from me.

I still wonder what the hell that feeling was when he walks toward the hay bale to grab my sling. Once he’s back in front of me, I silently watch him as he slides the sling carefully over my arm before he fastens the strap around my neck. A tingling sensation follows his fingers as they skim the skin of my neck.

I clear my throat and try to hold his gaze that’s clearly not pleased with me being here. Or maybe he just doesn’t like being anywhere near me. “Thank you,” I say, trying to remember my manners.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

I’m taken aback by his harsh tone, not sure what he’s referring to. “What?”

“I know you’re not stupid, Montana. I asked what the fuck you were thinking going anywhere near Lucifer? Someone like you could have easily gotten hurt.”

“Someone like me?” My own voice rises in response to his condescending tone. Someone like me? Is he serious? I’m probably more qualified to be near that horse—Lucifer—than everyone else in this place except my father.

“Yeah, someone like you who’s never been around a green horse before.”

At his words, the anger I’ve been holding in for the last half an hour, ever since I heard him talk to Lizzie—hell over the last fourteen years—explodes out of me.

“Listen here, jackass, the only reason why Lucifer freaked out is because you came storming in here making a fucking ruckus so loud you’d think you were trying to wake the dead. He was perfectly fine before you showed up, doing whatever it was you were doing, and scaring him.” When he opens his mouth to respond, I hold up my hand palm out to stop him. “I’m still talking, you already said plenty for one day.”

My hand drops to my side. “You don’t know me, or my life. All you know is a bunch of bullshit other people or social media has told you. And they don’t fucking know me either. You’re clearly the type of person who thinks it’s okay to talk shit about someone you’ve never so much as spoken a word to, and I’m the brat?” My voice rises the longer I speak. I don’t care if he realizes I overheard his conversation this morning. “But I’m going to tell you one thing. Besides my father, I’m probably the only person on this ranch who’s able to handle a horse like Lucifer. He wasn’t planning to hurt me, and he wouldn’t have if not for you. I’ve been on a horse since before I could walk, I’ve been training them since I was thirteen years old. I’m the only one who ever trained or rode Whisky.” I point toward my boy whose head is hanging out the door window, clearly curious. “He’s the best at what he does because of me, not despite of me.” It’s not a lie either. Whisky was born to jump, he loves doing it and he excels when faced with a challenge, despite being shorter than most of his peers, but he’s only at the level he is at because we’re unbeatable as a team. We’re in sync and trust each other, which is vital when you do what we do. But many people don’t understand the bond we share and think I’m just a spoiled brat who got lucky with a horse someone bought her.

“So how about you get off your high horse and take your condescending attitude and fuck yourself.” I’m past caring that I’m reinforcing his opinion of me. I long since learned not to surround myself with people who are either using me for something or talk about me behind my back while being nice to my face. It’s gotten me into trouble one too many times not to have learned my lesson.

At my last sentence, his eyes widen in shock while his mouth tightens. I guess he’s not used to anyone—especially a woman—speaking to him this way.

“You—” he starts, his face contorting in anger, but the door opening interrupts whatever he was about to say.

“Montana, here you are,” I hear my father’s voice, but I refuse to be the one to look away first. It might be childish, but I refuse to give him that much.


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Kira Berger is a child of the world with a severe case of wanderlust. She’s lived in both North America and Europe. Currently, she’s living in London and enjoys everything the diverse city has to offer.

She’s always been a dreamer and closet romantic. And after obtaining her MA in English and Publishing, she finally decided to bring the stories floating around in her head and distracting her from real life onto paper.

If she’s not writing or working – which is pretty much most of the time – she can be found reading, traveling all over the world to visit friends, cuddle with her cat, or ride on the back of her horse through the countryside, preferably during the winter months.


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Category: Contemporary Fiction, Cover Reveal, Excerpt, New Adult, Romance

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