Spotlight & Giveaway: A Cowboy and A Promise by Pam Crooks

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Pam Crooks to HJ!

Hi Pam and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, A Cowboy and A Promise!

 
Thank you, Harlequin Junkies, for the Spotlight! I’m honored and excited to be here!
 

Please summarize the book for the readers here:

I just loved writing this book! From the moment I envisioned Beau Paxton and Ava Howell in my mind, I fell in love with them. I used the classic ‘fish out of water’ storyline, and the words just flowed.
Ava has a degree in construction management and drives all the way from New York City to Texas to take on a ghost town renovation project to honor a promise she made to her friend, who had made a promise to Beau’s mother.
And of course, Beau doesn’t WANT his beloved ghost town renovated. He doesn’t want strangers on his family’s land, he doesn’t want to spend the money, he doesn’t want his grandfather’s legacy (the ghost town) touched or changed from the way he’s always known it, and how it’s been for decades.
Sparks fly, for sure.
But never fear, my friends. By the end of the book, Ava and Beau figure out the perfect compromise so they can be with each other forever.
 

Please share the opening lines of this book:

It was happening again.
Another person Ava Howell loved would soon be taken away from her. Within hours. Death had happened so often in her life, she didn’t think…

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

• After fifteen years of looking, my husband and I found the perfect cabin on a lake located near a little town forty-five minutes from our home. North Bend is quaint and lovable, quiet and safe, and I based Paxton Springs on this town, right down to the ice cream shop.
• While I was plotting A COWBOY AND A PROMISE, I happened to see an article online about a ghost town for sale. I was instantly intrigued and read everything I could on it. That ghost town was Cerro Gordo, http://cerrogordomines.com, an abandoned mining community in California, established in the mid-1800s. The layout was exactly how I’d envisioned the ghost town would be on the Blackstone Ranch. (The ghost town was, indeed, purchased and today is preserved as an authentic mining town. I hope to get out there for a tour someday!)
• Also, about that time, while I was in the throes of plotting dementia, the book HORSE SOLDIERS, which inspired the movie, “12 Strong”, became popular. Again, I was intrigued (along with everyone else!) and I based the three Paxton brothers on those soldiers.

Please tell us a little about the characters in your book. As you wrote your protagonist was there anything about them that surprised you?

Any writer worth her salt uses Pinterest for inspiration! As I was trolling through, looking for cowboy images, I found one that smacked me right in the face. I knew he was Beau—a little more mature, muscular, with hair a bit too long, and aviator sunglasses!

Be still, my heart.

Also, about that time, my husband and I were completely hooked on the Showtime series, “Homeland”. Claire Danes plays an entirely different character than my Ava Howell, of course, but the two women are the same—short blond hair, athletic, and strong.

Once I had their faces in my mind, it was much easier to write about them, and I always try to make the hero and heroine as different as they can be.

If your book was optioned for a movie, what scene would you use for the audition of the main characters and why?

Ooh, an option for a movie! How cool would that be?

I would choose a fast-action scene, I think, followed by the first meet. It would show different emotions—desperation, a race against time, disappointment, a sense of failure, and then, slowing down, triumph, relief, and that instant attraction and awareness we all love so much in our books.

I think the scene below has all those things, when Ava stops at a gas-mart for gas and a bottle of water, only to see her purse being stolen…

Her gaze latched onto a black T-shirt next to the passenger side. Long golden hair, too. Her breath caught in instant recognition.
The teenager yanked the door open, reached inside, and grabbed her purse, and full-blown horror rolled through her.
“Hey!” she cried out. “Hey! Stop!”
Her money. Her savings. Oh, God.
She bolted through the door. A glimpse of black and golden disappeared around the back of the station, and she tore off after him, past an ice machine, an oversized trash can, bags of landscaping bark stacked along the front of the gas mart. A big red pickup eased into a parking spot, and she ran past that, too. Someone yelled, then several more people did; she turned into a heavily rutted alley strewn with gravel, and their voices faded behind her.
The T-shirt was too far ahead to give her any hope of catching up with the kid who wore it, but still she kept running. The back side of a bar, an auto repair shop, and who knew what else blurred past her as she ran, arms and legs pumping. The sting of gravel tortured the bottoms of her feet, and her toes squeezed together to keep her flip-flops from flying off, but she kept going…
Until the black disappeared. Chest heaving, she slowed. Her gaze raked down the narrow path between a pair of buildings, one painted pale pink and another a dirty white, but he was nowhere. Sprinting to the end of the alley, which opened to the street, she searched there, too. Up one side and down the other.
He was gone.
She refused to stop looking. Damn it, she needed that money and no scrawny kid was going to keep her from it. She turned right, kept going down the sidewalk, then right again past a vacant lot toward the pink building. An ice cream shop. She burst inside and found it virtually empty except for another teen, this one far more clean-cut, leaning against the counter, engrossed in his smartphone.
He glanced up. “Can I help you?”
“Anyone in a black T-shirt and long, golden hair come in here just now?”
“No, ma’am. No one has in the last half hour, except you.”
“Thanks.”
She ran out again, headed next door, a co-op of some sort, and jiggled the knob, but the place was locked up tight.
She panted a frustrated curse. Bending, she yanked off each of her flip-flops and brushed bits of gravel off the soles of her feet. Slower this time, she headed back to the alley. She’d come full circle with no sign of the kid.
Tears stung her eyes. Surely, this Podunk town had a police station so she could report the robbery, which would only make her late in getting out to the Blackstone Ranch, and then she had to call Lucienne, who would loan her another thousand dollars that would take Ava forever to pay back, and then there was all of her private information that had been stolen, inevitably making her life miserable, but that was not the point of this whole fiasco…
She still gripped the bottle of water in her fist. She inhaled, then exhaled, to clear her brain. At least she had enough cash to pay for the water; she yanked the lid off, tilted her head back, and guzzled half of it. The cold liquid swam down her throat; she screwed the lid back on and skimmed the bottle across her sweaty forehead.
She couldn’t waste any more time standing here, feeling sorry for herself, so she sprinted back down the alley, toward the gas station. If nothing else, she was able to find her way back without a miss, thanks to that big red pickup still parked in the stall, which was about the only thing she could remember when she took off after the purse snatcher.
She kept running, her mind keeping pace with her feet. Did they have cops here in Paxton Springs? A sheriff’s office? The cashier would know who to call, and she raced toward the glass-front doors, ignoring the small crowd that had gathered near the entrance.
A black T-shirt stopped her cold.
There was the teen, sitting on the oil-stained pavement next to the gas pump. The same one she’d used to fill her tank. He sat with his knees pulled up and his head hanging down. Her purse lay on the hood of her car, as plain as day, and what the hell was going on?
“Hey, you!” She changed course, headed right for him. “What were you doing, stealing my purse?” She resisted the urge to smack him with it. He appeared sixteen, maybe seventeen years old. Medium height and thin-framed with clothes that could use a good laundering. “Who do you think you are, taking something that doesn’t belong to you?”
“It’s all there, ma’am.” A male voice, smooth as leather and gentled with a drawl, startled her. “He didn’t have time to do much of anything but run.”
Her gaze jerked upward to the tall cowboy, slanted with one hip against her car, muscled arms crossed casually over his chest. The brim of his fawn-colored Stetson shadowed his aviator sunglasses; a red bandanna circled his neck.
Clearly, he’d been waiting for her. A slow heat curled through her belly, a warmth that had nothing to do with the Texas sun and everything to do with the raw virility of this man.
“You found him?” she asked unnecessarily. Obviously, he had, with far more skill than she’d managed. “How? I mean—”
“Sometimes, you just have to think like a thief.”
A faint smile softened his hard mouth. She could feel him watching her behind the shaded lenses, and her breath quickened. Her composure sank, too, like a rock in quicksand.
She was rarely without her composure. It had taken her a long time to know how to gain it and hang on to it. Few had the power or skill to shake it.
When before had a man succeeded?
Never.
She didn’t know what this one was thinking, but he was slowly weakening her defenses, and Ava needed all the control she could get. It was how she’d survived growing up, mostly alone, for the majority of her childhood.
Control. Composure. Focus.
“Go on. Check your purse. You’ll feel better,” he murmured.
Her shoulders squared. Maybe he was amused that her money meant so much to her. Was it that obvious? He wouldn’t know she’d lived on more pennies than dollars throughout her lifetime, that she’d been thrown out into the world too soon, forced to scrimp and save for the most basic of necessities.
Something she was determined to change.
“Thank you. I will.”
She took a quick step back and snatched her purse off the hood. There was her billfold, still unzipped and lying wide open like she’d left it when she went to buy water, intending to return the credit card and receipt to their places after she was done. But a quick riffle through the bills showed the cowboy was right.
All one thousand dollars were there.
She schooled her features to show a calm she didn’t feel. She refused to let the cowboy know she was relieved. She wouldn’t let him see a shred of weakness or vulnerability about her.
Growing up, she’d been both for too long, and she wasn’t going to be either anymore.
Especially not in front of this big, strong, hunky cowboy.
He reached out a long leg and nudged the kid with the scuffed toe of his boot.
“Tell the lady you’re sorry,” he ordered quietly.
The golden head lifted, his eyes slow to meet hers.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“Why did you take my purse?” She couldn’t stop herself from asking. “You knew it was wrong, didn’t you?”
He shrugged, dropping his head again. “I wanted money.”
A long breath slid out of her lungs, draining her annoyance. Of course he did. Didn’t everyone? Besides, who was she to judge? It wasn’t like she’d never stolen anything herself. Being fourteen and having a purse full of high-end department store makeup to impress the girls she hung around with had been more important at the time than finding a way to pay for it.
It’d been a tough lesson to learn, thanks to a strict punishment her foster mother handed out, along with warning Ava within an inch of her life not to do it again.
Which she hadn’t. Ever.
As far as she was concerned, the whole thing with this kid was done and over with. Hopefully, he learned his lesson, and for her part, she’d make darn sure she didn’t leave her purse in her unlocked car again.
But it seemed the tall cowboy wasn’t quite as forgiving.
“You want to press charges or anything?” he asked her.
She shook her head. “No.”
He grasped the kid’s arm and hefted him to his feet with cool ease. “Then c’mon, son. We’re going to pay a little visit to the deputy.”
Hadn’t she just said she wasn’t going to push the issue and that a trip to law enforcement wasn’t expected on her part?
“Wait.” She frowned. “Is that necessary?”
He paused. Those aviator sunglasses angled her way. “I think it is.”
“Just let it go. I have my money.” She forced a smile. “No harm, no foul, right?”
“Not sure how it is in New York, but that’s not the way we do things around here.”
A corner of his hard mouth lifted, and he touched a finger to the brim of his hat. He turned, taking the teen with him in a no-nonsense walk away from the gas station.

What do you want people to take away from reading this book?

Aside from having that “Aaaahhh” feeling after a satisfying ending when two characters did their job and made my readers fall in love with them, perhaps a deeper message would be that life is all about compromise. We can’t have it all, but sometimes, we need to change to accept someone’s else’s needs or their love.

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have planned?

Along with re-releasing five of my historical western romances, I’m working on Book #2 of the Blackstone Ranch trilogy. This book will be Brock and Lucienne’s story.
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: Tule tote, copy of ebook A Cowboy and A Promise and Tule swag

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: At great personal cost, Ava honors her promise to her friend. Not only does she put her new career on hold, but she drives clear across the country, two things most of us probably wouldn’t do. Cowboys are known for their code of honor. Do you think a promise means as much as it used to? Do you think they are too easily made, but not always kept? Have you ever made a promise that was really difficult to keep?.

 
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Excerpt from A Cowboy and A Promise:

Her swift intake of breath warned Beau of the resistance he’d be up against.
“I’ve no intention of going anywhere anytime soon,” she said, her head lifting, like a filly fighting the bit. “I take my obligation here quite seriously.”
He guessed her age was mid- to upper-twenties. She wore her short, blond hair parted on the side and tucked behind one ear; a pink T-shirt outlined small breasts and a narrow waist. She was all legs under her khaki shorts, the skin pale but muscles toned. Might be she was a runner to have legs smooth and toned like that. Curved just right. Flip-flops rode on her feet, and the tips of her toes were painted a dark pink.
Four years in Special Forces taught him to commit de- tails to memory after a single glance, and when it came to Ava Howell, he intended to remember every one.
She warmed his blood.
Considering her situation here at the Blackstone, one he intended to end, that wasn’t good.
He took his time answering, filling in the moments with a couple more swigs of beer.
“You leave a job behind to come here?” he asked. “Or is my mother’s project it?”
The slight flaring of her nostrils indicated he’d hit a sore spot.
“Of course I have a job,” she said. “It came with my de- gree in construction management. A very good job, I might add.”
His brow arched. “I’m impressed.”
“Well, you should be,” she retorted. “It took years of hard work interning in a very male-dominated industry to learn what I know. And it didn’t come from sitting behind a desk.”
He nodded. Slowly. So she was a go-getter. Not afraid to buck the norm. Smart, too. Beau had worked construction on and off the ranch, both while growing up and during his time in the military. Most crews didn’t welcome a woman among them or have much respect for one, either. At least, not at first. They’d think of her as a lightweight, unskilled, or uninformed to the intricacies of building.
Ava, evidently, had convinced them otherwise. She’d proven herself. No small feat, and he had to hand it to her.
“Now that you’ve convinced me you’re good at what you do, you’ve also convinced me your boss wouldn’t let you just up and leave for what—oh, three months or so? During the summer, no less. The construction industry’s busiest time of year.”
She glared at him.
Bingo. “Which means you either gave up that very good job of yours to come out here to fill in for Erin, or you’re not sure your job will still be there when you go back.” Now that he’d zeroed in for the kill, he took some grim satisfaction in the slight paling in her cheeks. “Tell me I’m right.”
“If you think I’m going to give you more ammunition to pressure me into going home, you’re wrong, Beau. You’re dead wrong.” Several long strides took her to the door; she clasped the knob, then apparently thought better of turning it. She spun toward him. “When was the last time you saw Erin anyway?”
He had to think fast to deflect her new line of attack. “Not sure.”
“She told me it’d been years.”
“Long way from New York to Texas,” he said, unapolo- getic.
“Then you wouldn’t know how much doing this ghost town project for her aunt meant to her.”
He shrugged. “Nope. Besides a paycheck, I reckon.”
“That’s a terrible thing to say.” She huffed, her dander up good. “And maybe you’re too damned stubborn to know how much it means to your own mother.”
“I know exactly how much it means to her,” he grated.
“Then you’re being entirely selfish and stubborn to fight her on it.”
“Drop it, Ava.” He’d underestimated the fight in her, this city girl who was showing every sign of turning his plans upside down and inside out. “None of your business.”
“None of my—how can you say that?” Her jaw dropped.
“I’m here! Which makes it every bit of my business. Have you ever made a promise to someone?”
He refused to rise to her bait. Clenched his teeth instead.
“Well, I have. To your cousin, Erin, in fact. Who made a promise to your mother, and I fully intend to honor my promise to Erin until my job here is done.”
Her chest heaved from the outburst.
A highly noble one at that, one he might have applauded if he weren’t on the wrong side of the argument.
Beau knew when he was licked.
Best to cut his losses now, before she skewered him to a stake, set him on fire, and left him to burn.
He finished off the beer in one terse gulp and tossed the bottle into a new white trash can, tucked alongside the refrigerator. He snatched his sunglasses off the counter.
“I think we’ve locked horns enough for one day, Ava. You need anything? Because if you don’t, I’m heading out.”
She yanked open the door. “I don’t need anything from you.”
“Fine.”
He stepped onto the porch, which wasn’t much more than a postage-stamp-sized wooden landing, until a sudden thought stopped him. He ran his fingers over his hip pocket, finding it, not unexpectedly, empty.
“I forgot your key,” he said.
She glanced down at the shiny new doorknob.
“I’ll run up to the Big House and get it,” he added. “Don’t bother. I can get it tomorrow. From Ginny.”
It took some effort to let her jibe roll off him. That she intended to avoid him stung more than he cared to admit.
“Just figured you’d want to lock up tonight,” he drawled low. “Since you didn’t lock your car this afternoon.”
She angled her face away with a soft, self-deprecating laugh. “That was pretty stupid of me, wasn’t it?” She peered up at him, her mouth a pucker. “I’m from New York. I should’ve known better. My mind was on other things, I guess.”
“No one in Paxton Springs locks up, either,” he said, gentler. “Difference was, today you got caught. Lousy timing that kid showed up when he did.”
“Wasn’t it?” She blew out a breath. “I never thanked you for getting my money back. You saved me. You have no idea.”
“Glad I was there.”
“Me, too.”
Her hushed admission moved something in his chest.
Made him want her to need him again, just so he could take away all the bad in her world and turn them right.
Her hero.
But her needing him was not a good idea, considering he didn’t want her here in the first place. He couldn’t forget that. Ava Howell didn’t belong on the Blackstone Ranch. Her big-city skills didn’t fit in with his plans.
Not even close.
Beau took a step toward his pickup. “My mother figured you’d want security when you’re away from the cabin, so shenhad the new lock put in. You’ll be fine for the night until you get the key from her.”
“I’m sure I will.”
She hesitated, as if she were about to say something but thought better of it. In the end, she pushed the door closed, leaving him standing here, staring at it, with nothing else to do but head back to the Big House with his dog beside him and his thoughts in a jumble.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

Her determination fuels his desire…

When her dying friend pleads for help to finish a renovation project, Ava Howell can’t refuse, even though her promise means leaving her new career and familiar life in New York to travel to a remote ranch in Texas. She’s good at what she does, and the ghost town vacation resort would look great on her resume, but it means tangling with the ex-military cowboy who is determined to stop her as soon as she arrives.

Beau Paxton needs to sell the land and ghost town to save his family’s struggling ranch. He’s a formidable enemy to Ava’s determination, but the harder she works, the more his attraction for her grows. He doesn’t want to set aside his plans so she can succeed at hers, yet he finds himself doing just that…

Will a promise bring a city girl and a sexy cowboy together? Or will a broken one drive them apart?

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Meet the Author:

While expecting her first child (more years back than she cares to count), Pam Crooks read her very first romance novel, and she’s been in love with them ever since. She grew up in the ranch country of western Nebraska, and it was inevitable she’d eventually write lots of books about cowboys. Pam still lives in Nebraska with her husband (who is not a cowboy), four married daughters and nine perfect grandchildren.

She’s a long-time member of RWA and RAH, her local chapter. Pam is also one of the founders of Petticoats & Pistols, a popular blogsite for western romance. She loves to cook, hang out at her lake cabin, and decorate birthday cakes for anyone who will let her.

Visit www.pamcrooks.com for all of Pam’s books.
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