The Original Mountain Man Series by Frankie Love – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

The Original Mountain Man Series by Frankie Love – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Wed, 29 Oct 2025 22:16:34 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png The Original Mountain Man Series by Frankie Love – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Stranded on the Prairie (The Original Mountain Man #3) Read Online Frankie Love http://www.books2020.com/stranded-on-the-prairie-the-original-mountain-man-3-read-online-frankie-love Wed, 29 Oct 2025 22:16:34 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/stranded-on-the-prairie-the-original-mountain-man-3-read-online-frankie-love Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Frankie Love Series: The Original Mountain Man Series by Frankie Love
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Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)

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Riley is a yoga teacher with a heart wide open and a suitcase full of crystals. When she wakes up in the wild, she’s lost… until Wyatt finds her.

He’s all grit and gravel—boots, beard, and a broken past. The kind of man who doesn’t believe in fate... until she crashes into his.

Now they’re stuck together. One bed. One fire. And one undeniable pull that changes everything.

🔥Time-travel, prairie-style

💥Free-spirited heroine meets guarded cowboy

💘Fate, heat, and second chances

Somewhere between the stars and the soil… she just might find her forever.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Riley

Idraw in a deep lungful of the clean Colorado air, close my eyes, and feel a smile cross my lips.

Ah. This is what I’ve been waiting for...

When I flick my gaze open again, I cast it around the gorgeous landscape surrounding me – the greenery that stretches on as far as I can see, punctuated by trees that look as though they have been standing there for centuries.

I can hear the rush of water just out of sight, the steady flow of it a far cry from the usual rush of traffic outside the windows of my yoga studio. Checking my phone, I make sure that I’m not too far from the path, and then cut down to scoop up some fresh water from the river and catch my breath.

Mom would have loved this.

The thought, as it so often does, crosses my mind without warning – I do my best to brush it aside.

Mom would have wanted me to enjoy it, too, without beating myself up over everything.

But either way, she’s not here, and I have to make the most of this little adventure that I can.

As I pick my way down the hill towards the rushing water below, I feel a little twinge at the thought of having to go back to the city when this is all over.

Not that there isn’t plenty there I love, of course. No oat milk lattes out here in the forest, that’s for sure. But there’s something about feeling the soft earth under your feet and breathing in the clean, unpolluted air and drinking deep from the ice-cold river water that makes me feel like I’ve been scrubbed out, right down to my soul.

I need to start doing this more often. Hey, maybe I could even start holding yoga retreats out here – a hike out to the hills, and then a few savasanas when we got up here in the setting sun...

I stoop down to fill my flask from the river, the bite of the water rushing over my hand, and wonder if anyone would actually sign up for something like that.

I mean, if I like it here, I have to think that there would be plenty of my students who feel the same way. The release of being in nature, even just for a little while, forces you to consider your breath in a way that being in the city⁠—

"Shit!” I cry out, my voice echoing around the small valley that the river runs through. My foot skids on a mossy rock, and my shoes slips beneath the water, soaking my socks with freezing water.

I reach a hand out to balance myself, but, before I can get my bearings, a sudden rush behind me draws my attention. My head whips around, and, just like that, I feel the weight of the water against my legs as they are knocked out from underneath me, sending my flask flying into the air.

The last thing I see before I hit the riverbed is my pack flopping just out of reach, and then, a second later, everything goes black.

I don’t know how long I am out for, but when I break the surface of the water again, I gasp for air, groping and coughing as I expell the chill from my lungs. My clothes are soaked to my skin, and the air prickles with a discomforting cold all of a sudden.

I tip my head back, looking to the sky above – the blue’s been replaced by a sudden, threatening gather of clouds. Shit, how long was I out for...?

I glance around for my pack, praying to everything good and pure that my phone didn’t get drenched in the fall – but I can’t see it anywhere.

Shivering, I scramble out of the river and climb on to a large rock for a better vantage point, looking around for some kind of explanation.

What the hell...?

Did it get washed downriver? I didn’t think it landed in the water, but maybe I managed to send it flying when I tripped. Oh, crap, I don’t know if I can find my way out without my phone. My sense of direction has always been terrible, and-

Suddenly, a chill wind rushes through the valley, and I wrap my arms around myself – it strikes me that, without my pack, in drenched clothes, in a place I don’t know well, I could be in trouble.

Heaving myself towards the bank, I drag myself back up towards the path. If I just follow it back down to where I came from, then I won’t be⁠—

Wait. The path is gone. Or, at least, I think it is. It’s certainly not where I remember it being, cutting between the tall trees and the emerald grass.

My brows knit together in a panic as I cast my gaze this way and that, but there’s no sign of it, not here, not anywhere...

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Advertisement Found on the Prairie (The Original Mountain Man #4) Read Online Frankie Love http://www.books2020.com/found-on-the-prairie-the-original-mountain-man-4-read-online-frankie-love Wed, 29 Oct 2025 22:16:32 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/found-on-the-prairie-the-original-mountain-man-4-read-online-frankie-love Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love, Novella Authors: Frankie Love Series: The Original Mountain Man Series by Frankie Love
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Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 15404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 77(@200wpm)___ 62(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)

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She traded grading papers for prairie skies.

He thought he’d buried his heart with the harvest.

But when Kim time-travels into Cade’s rugged world, sparks fly—and not just from the fire he builds each night.

She's all words and wonder.

He’s all silence and soil.

But love doesn’t need permission—it finds you.

🕰️ Smart heroine out of time

🌾 Stoic farmer with a tender heart

🔥 Slow burn, deep feels, earth-shaking heat

💘 Love that rewrites her story

The prairie doesn’t just grow crops—it grows second chances

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

KIM

"Shit," I mutter to myself, as the car lets out another groan beneath me.

I hear a crack from the front of the vehicle, and a puff of dark smoke snorts out from under the hood.

My heart sinks. Just my luck...

I manage to pull my little beat-up old Mini to the side of the road before it gives out entirely, the coolant hissing loudly as I scramble out and plant my hands on my hips to survey the damage.

It’s not exactly what I was hoping for, coming out here like this, but then, nothing has exactly run as I’d thought it would these last few weeks.

I run a hand through my hair and pop the trunk to pull out the toolkit I stashed in there the day before last, when I left Denver and headed out to the hills to clear my head.

Not exactly the most sensible way to deal with a break-up, but then, when you walk in on your boyfriend making out with one of your graduate students on the couch, it’s not like anyone could blame you for reacting the way you did.

My heart pangs when the memory hits me once more – the way that I froze when I walked through the door to our apartment, the look on his face as he glanced up at me with sheer horror in his eyes as it clicked that he had finally been busted.

Natalie, for her part, had the decency to scramble her clothes back on and flee while she muttered out a million apologies to me, but I could hardly take any of it in, the ringing in my ears too insistent to ignore.

My boyfriend. Cheating on me. If I hadn’t come back from that seminar early, I would never have found out. He’s tried to convince me a million times over that I’m crazy for thinking that it had happened before.

I should’ve trusted my gut – we might have moved in together the year before, but that was likely just his way of trying to throw me off the scent and keep me from putting the pieces together.

God only knows how much screwing around he has been getting up to – telling the girls that I’m too focused on work to give him the attention he needs, as though he’s not a grown-ass man capable of taking care of himself...

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to remind myself that I have come here to blow off some steam, not to linger on the assholery that Colton subjected me to. My tenure at the college I’ve been teaching English Lit at has come to an end anyway, so it’s not like I have anything to keep me tied down – packing my stuff up into my car, I took off to the mountains in the hopes that the fresh air would go some way to salving the pain in my guts from everything that has gone down between us.

Only, of course, for my car to break down on the side of the road. I should have had it looked over before I came out here, and I can see that now, but the thought of spending another second in that place was too much to bear.

And now I’m paying the price.

I flip open the toolbox and frown as I examine what I’ve got inside. Not like I know much of what to do with it, anyway...

I reach for my phone, figuring that I’d be better off calling some roadside repair place than trying to deal with all of this myself – but I have no signal out here in the woods. Of course I don’t. I came out here to get away from everything, didn’t I? That includes phone coverage too, I guess...

I sigh as I head off down the road a little, holding my phone high above me in the hopes that I will be able to catch something in the way of a signal. I don’t know how long it will take for someone to get out here and put me out of my car-trouble misery, but I guess I don’t have any choice but to wait. I take another step forward, head tilted back to look up at my phone, and-

And I sprawl forward, my foot catching on a rock and my phone flying out of my hand as I tumble towards the ground.

I cry out, throwing my hands out in front of me to try and brace for the impact, but I land hard, my knees unprotected by the shorts I have on and skinning to a bloody mess. My hands ache, and, when I flip them over to check the damage, I groan when I see that they’re scuffed-up too.

As if today couldn’t get any worse...

I lift my head to figure out exactly where my phone made it to. But, as I scan the area in front of me – I find that there is nothing there.

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Advertisement Rough Hands on the Prairie (The Original Mountain Man #1) Read Online Frankie Love http://www.books2020.com/rough-hands-on-the-prairie-the-original-mountain-man-1-read-online-frankie-love Sun, 12 Oct 2025 20:52:42 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/rough-hands-on-the-prairie-the-original-mountain-man-1-read-online-frankie-love Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Novella Authors: Frankie Love Series: The Original Mountain Man Series by Frankie Love
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Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 13933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 70(@200wpm)___ 56(@250wpm)___ 46(@300wpm)

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After a breakup and a breakdown, June strips down and slips into an alpine lake, hoping to rinse off the mess of her life. Instead, she surfaces in a world that isn’t hers—a world without phones, without rules… and with a man who looks like he walked straight out of a fever dream.

Elias is all grit and growl, with hands built for work and a body made for sin. He lives by the land, trusts no one, and sure as hell doesn’t know what to do with a naked woman who just fell into his life—swearing, shivering, and too soft for this world.

She’s modern. He’s original.
And when survival forces them to share a cabin—and a bed—their connection burns hot and fast, all instinct and no apologies.

But this isn’t just a fling in the forest.
Because the past has teeth.
And love like this carves its mark deep.

💥 Time-travel with no way back
🔥 “Only one bed” survival heat
🥵 Grumpy, guarded mountain man who worships her body
🪓 Cabin-core + prairie-core + portal fantasy smut
💘 A heroine who finds more than love—she finds where she truly belongs

Welcome to the Colorado frontier, where fate is feral, love is lawless, and the original mountain man is ready to claim what's his

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

June

The sun beats down on my face, sweat beading on my brow, my hair clinging to my cheeks.

God, I really need to cool down.

I pause, pulling a canteen from my bag and taking a long swig. The water hits the spot. I sigh. Hydrate or die, right? I’m always reminding my blog readers to bring more water than they think they’ll need—but I might’ve underestimated it myself today.

Planting a foot on a rock near the river, I stare down at the water.

Could I get away with a quick dip?

It’s not like many people hike this trail—especially not mid-summer. The Colorado Rockies aren’t exactly known for being tourist-friendly, and this far out? It’s just me, the trees, and the buzz of dragonflies.

A swim would be heaven. Just a quick dunk. In and out before midday.

Decision made, I scramble down the rocky hillside toward the river. Birds tweet their commentary from the trees, but I ignore them. I pull out my phone to snap a few pics—sunlight glittering on the water, the wild edges of this forgotten place. I need something stunning for my next post.

But the real magic of a trail like this?

Putting the damn phone down and disappearing.

I toss my pack aside, along with my phone. This part? It’s not for the blog. This is just for me. My followers know everything—my van, my fire-cooking tips, my favorite ways to stay safe on solo hikes—but this little rebellion? Skinny-dipping in a remote mountain river?

This part stays mine.

One last glance toward the trail. No one’s coming.

I unzip my jacket, kick off my shoes, and strip fast—before I can lose my nerve. A wicked buzz shivers through me. I’ve always had a defiant streak, the kind that refuses to stay quiet or behave. It’s what drove me to the road in the first place. And yeah—skinny-dipping in the Rockies? Sounds exactly like the kind of dumb, free thing I’d do.

The cool air kisses my bare skin. Goosebumps rise.

I dip a toe in the water and squeal—it’s freezing.

Still, I slide to the edge of a flat rock, close my eyes as sunlight dances over the surface, and slip under.

The shock of the cold nearly steals my breath—in the best way.

Every bit of road dust, regret, and burnout washes off my skin. I dunk my head under, resurfacing with a gasp, blinking at the sky. No one around. No sound but birdsong and rushing water.

I’m not done yet.

I swim into a still pocket of the river, a quiet little cove where the water eddies gently. The cold seeps through me, bone-deep and cleansing. It feels like a baptism I didn’t ask for but desperately needed.

Sunlight filters through the trees. Shadows dance across the rocks.

And for one suspended moment… everything stops.

Like the earth took a snapshot.

Just for me.

I smile, dunk again, and swim farther out⁠—

And when I come up, something’s wrong.

It takes a moment to click. Everything looks the same—same rocks, same trees, same birdsong. But there’s something off. The air feels heavier. The silence feels different.

I run my hands through my hair, slick it back, blink the water from my lashes⁠—

And freeze.

My backpack is gone.

My heart slams against my ribs.

I scan the riverbank, panic rising. Maybe I left it somewhere else? Maybe I’m disoriented?

But no. It’s gone. The spot where I left it is empty. My pulse spikes.

Shit.

Someone must have taken it. But how? Who could’ve snuck in and out while I was swimming?

"Hello?" I call out, voice bouncing off the rocks.

Nothing.

I glance toward the rock where I left my clothes—also empty.

Okay. Now I’m really screwed.

My breath catches. I part my lips to shout again—but stop myself.

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Advertisement Tamed on the Prairie (The Original Mountain Man #2) Read Online Frankie Love http://www.books2020.com/tamed-on-the-prairie-the-original-mountain-man-2-read-online-frankie-love Sun, 12 Oct 2025 20:52:41 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/tamed-on-the-prairie-the-original-mountain-man-2-read-online-frankie-love Genre: Alpha Male, Novella Authors: Frankie Love Series: The Original Mountain Man Series by Frankie Love
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Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)

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She fell through a portal.

He’s been alone too long.

Now they’re stuck on the frontier—with only one bed and no way back.

Cora's a modern midwife. Boone’s a widowed cowboy.

She didn’t mean to land in 1870s Colorado…

But he sure as hell means to keep her.

🔥 Broody homesteader

💥 Time travel romance

💘 Prairie-core smut vibes

Welcome to the wild west, sweetheart

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Cora

Dragging a hand over my forehead, I wipe away the sweat that has pooled on my skin since I set out on the trail earlier this morning.

It’s still quiet enough that I haven’t run into anyone, thank God.

The thought of looking someone else in the eyes right now, of admitting the depths of guilt and shame that are twisting in my guts at that moment, it’s...it’s more than I can take.

It’s the whole reason I came out here in the first place – the depths of Colorado, somewhere I won’t be haunted by the sterile memories of what happened on that maternity ward the month before last.

It doesn’t matter how many times they tell me that it’s normal, that I shouldn’t feel guilty, that there’s nothing more I could have done.

But I do. The guilt gnaws at me.

No matter what I try to tell myself or how I try to frame it, I know that there was a mother who walked out of my ward without the child she had spent so long looking forward to.

The thought snags on my mind again, sending a shock of discomfort through my system. I can still remember the wail of agony that she let out when we told her that we weren’t going to be able to bring her little one to her.

She'd suffered a stillbirth, and, despite our best efforts, we couldn’t revive the child. It wasn’t the first time something had gone wrong in that ward, but it was the first time I felt so utterly, completely helpless in the face of the pain someone else was going through.

I’d worked as a midwife for years, and, of course, I’d known there would be difficult aspects of the job. They had done their best to train us for that, but the actual reality of being confronted with it is entirely different.

And I am only just starting to understand that. I can’t undo the hurt that woman feels, and I can’t find some way to draw her baby back from the brink.

No, I just need to accept that I failed...

And I can’t. I don’t know what I thought a hike out here might do to change things, but I had to try something. I’d tried to go back to work, but my distractedness and the constant reminder of everything that had happened had been too much for me to take.

Iris, the ward head, had insisted I take some time off to clear my head. It happens to all of us, she had assured me, as she had pulled me into a huge hug. We need some time to ourselves, once in a while...

I had resisted it at first, but eventually, I had packed up my car and driven out to my native Colorado to spend some time in the wilderness here. Somewhere as far removed from the hospital as I can find. Somewhere that feels as though it belongs to another world entirely.

The dark wood of the trees dappling sunlight along the ground, the scent of overturned earth in the air. The old paths that wind between the trunks from generation to generation marking them out time and time again.

It’s better than being back on the ward, but that doesn’t mean that I have forgotten anything-

And then, all at once, a noise catches my attention. For a moment, I think I must be imagining it, some vestige of what I left behind still clinging to the back of my head. Because it sounds...

It sounds like a baby crying.

The kind of crying that indicates something is really, really wrong. A cold flush crosses my cheeks, even amidst the heat.

What the hell...?

And there it is again, this time, unmistakable.

My heart skips a beat. There are animals who make noises that can sound like those of a baby, right? It could just be that. But I’ve spent enough time out here to know the difference, and something tells me that this isn’t just some fox trying to get the attention of unsuspecting prey.

Cutting off the path is a bad idea and I know it, but, nonetheless, I hook my bag over my shoulder and make my way into the woods. I call out a couple of times, trying to make out what is going on out there, but hear nothing in return – nothing.

Nothing that is, apart from the sound of crying filling the air, over and over again.

It drifts on the breeze like something from a bad dream, and the lump in my throat grows larger and larger with every step.

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