The ultimate Grumpy/Sunshine romance you’ve all been waiting for

Title: Snowed in with the Rancher
Series: A Young Sisters Novel
Author: Whitley Cox
Genre/Tropes: Christmas, Western, Cowboy Romance, Military, Grumpy/Sunshine 
Release Date: March 4, 2023
Can her ray of sunshine melt his icy heart?

Recently dumped by her boyfriend, Triss Young accepts the unexpected offer from her best friend to travel to Colorado and spend Christmas with Hannah and her uncles. But when Triss’s plane lands in Denver and Hannah’s is rerouted because of snow, Triss heads to the ranch alone and is surprised when a blue-eyed, sexy rancher with dog tags answers the door.

Grumpy rancher Asher Harris doesn’t know what to make of the beauty who showed up on his doorstep at midnight, covered in snow and hell-bent on snuggling goats. He’s got a lot of work to do on the ranch and doesn’t have time to entertain, even though he can think of a few ways he and Triss could stay warm.

However, this Christmas seems to be full of surprises for everyone, as Triss proves herself to not only be a natural with the horses, but she’s up for anything—even mucking stalls. Is she also the breath of fresh air and happiness Asher didn’t know he needed?

Footsteps echoed on the other side of the door and the porch light flicked on just before the big solid oak door was yarded open to reveal a shirtless man, not much older than Triss, wearing flannel pajama pants. He had abs for days, dog tags hanging between his pecs, a scowl on his face, and confusion in his dark blue eyes.

Was she at the right house?

Hannah said she was coming to spend Christmas with her uncles. This man could not be Hannah’s uncle. Not when he should be on the cover of some firefighters with kittens calendar. Or in this case, cowboys with baby goats calendar.

His eyes traipsed down her body. “Who are you?” Dear God, his voice was exactly what she’d expect from a cowboy. Sex and rasp.

She swallowed, trying her hardest to keep her eyes on his face, not his six-pack. “I’m Triss. Hannah’s friend.”

His brows scrunched. “Hannah’s flight had to turn around.”

“Did it?” She checked her phone, though she realized the moment she did it that it wouldn’t do her any good. Not only would Hannah not be able to text her if she was still in the air, but Triss’s phone had up and died on her journey from the road. “Fuck,” she muttered, stowing her phone back in her pocket. “Are you Hannah’s cousin?”

He shook his head which caused the porch light to catch on a thick white scar on his chin and make it glow. “Uncle.”

If the other uncle was just as young and hot, Triss was going to have a heart attack.

“She did tell you I was coming, right?”

He shook his head.


“For Christmas?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. Hannah invited me to join her here with you and … your brother? For Christmas.” At the mention of his brother, Triss tried to see around the man’s big frame into the house and whether another one just like him was lurking in the shadows.

“Nate’s in Texas. Took a yearling down there few days ago, got stuck in the snow.”

“And you are?”


A man of very few words.

“Well … uh … I flew in from Baltimore. Hannah’s my best friend and …” She glanced back toward the road. “My cabby made me walk from the road. After I paid triple the fare to get here.”

All Asher did was scratch at his bristly jaw, the sound of his nails on those short wiry hairs doing all kinds of strange things to Triss’s lower belly.

Was he going to invite her in?

His eyes bore holes into her face for a solid thirty seconds, causing heat to worm through her until her hands grew sweaty in her gloves. Then, finally when she wasn’t sure if he’d slam the door in her face or not, he opened it wider and stepped to the side. “Come in.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, awkwardly tugging her suitcase over the threshold and stepping into the dark, sparsely decorated farmhouse. It was warm inside, which she realized was from a wood stove in the corner of the living room. A window in the wood stove door was the only light in the room, its orange flames making the area around it glow.

She tugged off her gloves and removed her hood from her head, apologizing when a few droplets of water from it were flicked onto his hard chest.

“Guest room is down the hall. Bathroom is beside it,” he said, jerking his scarred chin in that direction. Then before she could ask him any more questions, he turned away from her and padded his big bare feet up the creaky wooden staircase that led to darkness. A second later, she heard a door close, only then did she release the breath that had snagged in her throat when she saw that butt in those pajama pants.
A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have two beautiful daughters and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn’t end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it’s not quite wine o’clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With single dads, firefighters, Navy SEALs, mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, Whitley’s books have all the funny and fabulously filthy words you could hope for.