Swift and Saddled (Rebel Blue Ranch, #2)

by Lyla Sage

But depression wasn’t a logical disease. It was an unexpected cold front in the middle of July. It was impossible to predict, which meant that I spent much of my time worrying about when the other shoe was going to drop. Not if, but when I would sink into another dark hole and have to decide to claw my way out of it. Even when I was happy, I was thinking about when I wouldn’t be.

somewhere within walking distance or my ex drove me.” “He didn’t try to teach you?” “He said I didn’t need to know how to drive it when he could take me anywhere I wanted to go.” An image of Ada flashed through my mind—an image in which she looked like a bird in a cage. My head was reeling about what that meant—that she wasn’t able to do things on her own—and it made me fucking angry. Whoever this asshole was, I wanted to find him and kick his ass off a cliff. “At the beginning, I thought it was sweet that

I think I might have been homesick for Rebel Blue before I knew it existed.