Spotlight & Giveaway: Just in Time for Christmas by Carolyn Brown

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Carolyn Brown to HJ!

Hi Carolyn and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Just in Time for Christmas!

 
Merry Christmas, to all y’all!
 

To start off, can you please tell us a little bit about this book?:

This book was originally Darn, Good Cowboy Christmas published more than a decade ago. It’s got a spanking brand-new cover, and I’ve reworked the story to bring it up to date. Now titled Just in Time for Christmas, it’s still the story of footloose Liz Hanson coming to Ringgold, Texas to settle down. All she wants for Christmas is a house of her own—and the man of her dreams. The house was easy. Now she’s got her sights set on her extremely attractive neighbor Raylen O’Donnell, her teen crush all grown up, to make her Christmas dreams come true…
 

Please share your favorite lines or quote(s) from this book:

*It was just a white frame house at the end of a long lane. But it did not have wheels, and to Liz that meant it was a mansion.
*Could Raylen really be the cowboy Santa was going to leave under her Christmas tree?
*Cowboys have roots, not wings. Don’t get involved with one or you’ll smother to death in a remote back- woods farm or else die of boredom.
*Put them outside. Do not pet them or let them stay in the house. You’ll get attached and it will make leaving even harder. You know what happened that time I was gone for two days, and you hid that kitten in the trailer, her mother’s voice argued with her.

What inspired this book?

As a child I loved going to the carnival when it came to our little town of Tishomingo, Oklahoma. I often wondered if the folks that worked for the carnival ever thought about settling down in one place, or if after all the excitement of traveling they would even be able to do that.

How did you ‘get to know’ your main characters? Did they ever surprise you?

They live with me in the virtual world that I built for them, or maybe I should say they allowed me to come into their world and tell their stories. I lived with them for weeks while I wrote the book. I cried with them, laughed with them, and got angry with them. Sometimes I had to talk them down when they were ready to throw in the towel. Sometimes they woke me up at night to fuss at me when I hadn’t told a portion of their story just right. I have to admit I drug my feet a bit at the end of the story because I didn’t want to tell them goodbye.

What was your favorite scene to write?

The scene when Raylen and Liz meet for the first time as adults:

“You are Raylen, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Yes, I am, and who are you?” he asked.
“I’m Liz, and I now own this place and land,” she said with a flick of her hand to take in more than just the house.
“Liz?” Raylen’s expression changed to one of disbelief.
“Surprise!” She said with a smile. “What are you doing here?”
Could Raylen really be the cowboy Santa was going to leave under her Christmas tree? He’d sure enough been the one she had in mind when she asked for a cowboy. She’d visualized him in tight fittin’ jeans and boots when she was younger. Lately, she’d changed her vision to nothing but a Santa hat and the boots.
His hair was still a rich, dark brown, almost black until the sunlight lit up the deep chestnut color. His eyes were exactly as she remembered: pale, icy blue rimmed with dark brown lashes. It all added up to a heady combination, enough to make her want to tangle her hands up in all that dark hair and kiss him. She looked up at the ceiling, but there was no mistletoe hanging in the doorway. She’d have to remedy that when she decorated the house for the holiday.
Cowboys have roots, not wings. Don’t get involved with one or you’ll smother to death in a remote back- woods farm or else die of boredom. Her mother’s voice whispered so close to her ear that she turned to make sure Marva Jo Hanson hadn’t followed her to Ringgold, Texas.
Raylen stood to one side and motioned her into the house. “I came to feed and water Hooter and Blister. Haskell asked me to do that until you got here. We met when we were kids, remember?”
“I do,” she answered. How could she forget? She’d been in love with Raylen O’Donnell since she was fourteen years old.
“Haskell said that if you didn’t like it here, he’d sell me your twenty acres,” he blurted out.
“That won’t happen, and you sure are blunt,” she said as she scanned the living room that was exactly like she remembered it, down to the well-worn leather sofa and hassock where she’d snuggled in to read romance books about cowboys the last time she was there. “I’m going to live here. Uncle Haskell said if I like it, he’ll deed the place over to me in the spring. The place isn’t for sale and won’t ever be.”
“And do what? Ringgold isn’t very big.” Raylen’s tone was filled with exasperation.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Pet the cat. Feed the dog.”
“That won’t make a living, lady,” Raylen said.

What was the most difficult scene to write?

The one where Liz watches all of her carnival family leave:

Hugs were given.
Promises made.
Then it was time for Liz to stand on the porch like her Poppa had done for years and wave as the parade went down her lane. Tears dripped off her cheeks and dropped onto her sweatshirt. She’d made up her mind and she was at peace with her decision. She liked her roots. She loved Raylen. But why did clipping her wings have to hurt so badly?
When the last taillight was out of sight, she tucked her head into Raylen’s shoulder and sobbed. “Now I know how my Poppa felt when we all left him behind. I miss all of them, Raylen, and they’re not even to the highway heading west yet.”
“They’re only hours from here, Liz. You can go see them any weekend that you want to. You can take off when you get off at two on Saturday and come home the next day. It’s not like you won’t see her for a year.” he ssaid.
“Oh, hush.” Colleen rounded the end of the house, and she was crying as hard as Liz.
Raylen held out his left arm to Colleen and she walked into it, laid her head on his other shoulder, and sobbed. He didn’t know what to do with one weeping woman and now he had two hugged up to him, soaking his shirt with their tears.
“You still want those wings?” Liz asked.
“More than ever. What’s the price?” Colleen asked.
Liz wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands. “I’ll sell them to you for your roots, but know this, if it hurts this bad to clip my wings, it’s going to cause a lot of pain to rip up your roots.”
“Right now, I would hand them to you on a silver platter. Watching him leave was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. How can I feel like this after only a week?” Colleen asked.
Liz smiled through the tears. “Craziest thing in the world, ain’t it?”
“At least you don’t have to have a long-distance relationship,” Colleen said.
“Neither do you. Four hours out there. Take your vacation time and go spend it with him,” Liz said.
Colleen swiped at her eyes with sleeve of her denim jacket. “Mama will have a fit.”
“Mine did, and it didn’t kill me. Maddie will be angry, but you’ll live. It’s part of the price we have to pay to follow our hearts,” Liz told her.

Would you say this book showcases your writing style or is it a departure for you?

Just in Time for Christmas definitely showcases my cowboy writing style. It was so much fun to write back in 2011, and was just as much fun to rewrite for this year.
 

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

Follow your dreams. They might not be conventional by your family and friend’s standards, but follow them anyway.
 

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

I’m working on a women’s fiction book right now. It could very well be a challenge and a joy to write–all rolled up into several emotions.
My upcoming schedule for publications looks like this:
The Sandcastle Hurricane, (Women’s Fiction) November 8
Home of the Heart with a bonus novella (reissue of Wild Cowboy Ways), Dec. 6
The Third Wish (a novella), January 10, 2023
A Chance Inheritance (three novellas in one book), January 10, 2023
Buttercup Farms (a novella, also included in Home of the Heart), Feb. 7
The Devine Doughnut Shop, Feb. 14
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: I’m giving away a $25 Amazon gift card.

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: Do you like to see reissues on the shelves–just in case you missed the original when it came out several years ago.

 
a Rafflecopter giveaway

 
 

Excerpt from Just in Time for Christmas:

It was just a white frame house at the end of a long lane.
But it did not have wheels, and to Liz that meant it was a mansion.
She squinted against the sun sinking in the west and imagined the house with multicolored Christmas lights strung all around the porch, the windows, even in the cedar tree off to the left side. In her vision, it was a Griswold house from Christmas Vacation that lit up the whole state of Texas. She hoped that when she flipped the electricity on, she didn’t cause a major blackout because in a few weeks it was going to look like the house on that old movie that she loved.
Now where is the cowboy to complete the package? The voice in her head asked.
Christmas lights on a house without wheels and a cowboy in tight fittin’ jeans and boots—that’s what she asked for every year when her mother asked for her Christmas list. She didn’t remember the place being so big when she visited her uncle those two times. Once when she was ten and then again when she was fourteen, but then back then she she’d been quite taken with the young cowboy next door and didn’t pay much attention to the house. The brisk Texas wind whipped around her skirt tail as if saying that it could send her right back to east Texas.
“I don’t think so,” she said with half a giggle. “I’m here to stay, and I know a thing or two about Texas wind. It would take more than a class five tornado to get rid of me. This is what I’ve wanted all my life, and I think it’s the prettiest house in Montague County. It’s sittin’ on a foundation, and…” She clamped a hand over her mouth in disbelief when she saw her uncle’s old dog, Hooter, slowly came down off the porch, head down and wagging his tail. Blister, the black and white cat, eyed her suspiciously from the ladder-back chair on the tiny porch.
“Uncle Haskell, I could kiss you!” She said as she slung open the truck door. The wind pushed its way inside, bringing a few fall leaves with it, but she didn’t even stop to brush them away. Aunt Tressa would say that was an omen—that the place was welcoming her into its arms. Her mother would say that the wind was blowing her back to the carnival where she belonged.
Her high heels sunk into the soft earth, leaving holes as she rushed across the yard toward the yellow dog. She squatted down, hugged the big yellow mutt, and scratched his ears. “You beautiful old boy. You are the icing on the cake. Now I’ve got animals and a house. Who cares about a cowboy? I can’t have it all, now can I?”
The key was under the chair, tucked away in a faded ceramic frog, just where her Uncle Haskell said it would be when she talked to him earlier that afternoon. But he hadn’t mentioned leaving the two animals. She’d thank him for that surprise later on when she called him.
She opened the wooden screen door and was about to put the key in the lock when the door swung open. There stood Raylen O’Donnell, all grown up and even sexier than she remembered. Her heart thumped so hard she could feel it pushing against her bra. Her hands shook and her knees went weak, but she took a deep breath, willed her hands to be still, and locked her knees in place.
“If it’s religion you’re sellin’ or anything else, we’re not interested,” Raylen said in a deep Texas drawl. He’d held a glass of tea in one hand and the door handle in the other, and the expression on his face said he was as shocked as she was. “I wonder why Hooter didn’t bark?”
“Maybe because he knows me,” Liz answered.
She felt the heat of his gaze as he started at her spike heels and traveled all the way to the top of her head. She reached up and tucked several strands of her jet-black hair into a shiny silver clasp.
“You are Raylen, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Yes, I am, and who are you?” he asked.
“I’m Liz, and I now own this place and land,” she said with a flick of her hand to take in more than just the house.
“Liz?” Raylen’s expression changed to one of disbelief.
“Surprise!” She said with a smile. “What are you doing here?”
Could Raylen really be the cowboy Santa was going to leave under her Christmas tree? He’d sure enough been the one she had in mind when she asked for a cowboy. She’d visualized him in tight fittin’ jeans and boots when she was younger. Lately, she’d changed her vision to nothing but a Santa hat and the boots.
His hair was still a rich, dark brown, almost black until the sunlight lit up the deep chestnut color. His eyes were exactly as she remembered: pale, icy blue rimmed with dark brown lashes. It all added up to a heady combination, enough to make her want to tangle her hands up in all that dark hair and kiss him. She looked up at the ceiling, but there was no mistletoe hanging in the doorway. She’d have to remedy that when she decorated the house for the holiday.
Cowboys have roots, not wings. Don’t get involved with one or you’ll smother to death in a remote back- woods farm or else die of boredom. Her mother’s voice whispered so close to her ear that she turned to make sure Marva Jo Hanson hadn’t followed her to Ringgold, Texas.
Raylen stood to one side and motioned her into the house. “I came to feed and water Hooter and Blister. Haskell asked me to do that until you got here. We met when we were kids, remember?”
“I do,” she answered. How could she forget? She’d been in love with Raylen O’Donnell since she was fourteen years old.
“Haskell said that if you didn’t like it here, he’d sell me your twenty acres,” he blurted out.
“That won’t happen, and you sure are blunt,” she said as she scanned the living room that was exactly like she remembered it, down to the well-worn leather sofa and hassock where she’d snuggled in to read romance books about cowboys the last time she was there. “I’m going to live here. Uncle Haskell said if I like it, he’ll deed the place over to me in the spring. The place isn’t for sale and won’t ever be.”
“And do what? Ringgold isn’t very big.” Raylen’s tone was filled with exasperation.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Pet the cat. Feed the dog.”
“That won’t make a living, lady,” Raylen said.
She popped both hands on her hips. “I don’t reckon what I do for a living is onebit of your business, cowboy.” Never in all the scenarios that she’d imagined, had he been cross with her like this. He’d kissed her. He’d swept her off her feet and carried her to a big white pickup truck, and they’d driven off into the Texas sunset. He’d smiled and said that he remembered her well and she’d grown up into a beautiful woman. But he hadn’t argued.
She brushed across his chest as she headed into the kitchen to make herself a glass of tea. She’d had Raylen on a pedestal for more than a decade and he didn’t even recognize her. He was probably married and had three or four kids too. That was the way her luck ran, so why should today be any different?
When she fanned past him, she got a whiff of his cologne—the same kind he’d worn all those years ago..
“I’ll take over feeding the cat and dog,” she said. “Thanks for what you’ve done until I could get here.”
He dug into his pocket and handed her an old key ring with two keys on it. “Welcome to Ringgold, Liz. I still live on the ranch that surrounds this land. Haskell sold me most of his ranch six months ago, all but the part the house sits on.”
“He told me,” she said as she opened the nearly empty refrigerator and took out half a pitcher of sweet tea.
Raylen headed for the door, “The O’Donnells are your closest neighbors. Come around to see us sometime. Be seein’ you.”
She wanted to say something, but not one word would come out of her mouth. Raylen in her living room, looking even sexier than he had when he was seventeen and exercising the horses. Raylen, all grown up, a man instead of a lanky teenager, talking to herthat it was such a shock and a surprise that she was speechless. And that was strange territory for Lizelle Hanson.
“Dammit!” she stomped her foot and popped the heel off one of her shoes.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

She’ll finally be home for Christmas.
Having spent most of her life performing in a traveling show, Lizelle Hanson has always had the same Christmas wish: to have a forever home. Now that’s she’s inherited her uncle’s ranch in Texas, she finally has a house that isn’t on wheels–but settling down is going to take some getting used to.
Raylen O’Donnell is planted on the ranch right next door and more than happy to help Liz get adjusted. He only met her a handful of times when she visited her uncle, but he’s been dreaming of her ever since. Now that she’s back for good, Raylen can’t wait to show her how putting down roots with him could make all of her Christmas wishes come true.

Book Links: Amazon | B&N | iTunes | Kobo | Google |
 
 

Meet the Author:

Carolyn Brown is a New York Times, USA Today, Wall Street Journal, Publisher’s Weekly and #1 Amazon and #1 Washington Post bestselling author. She is the author of more than 100 novels and several novellas. She’s a recipient of the Bookseller’s Best Award, Montlake Romance’s prestigious Montlake Diamond Award, and also a three-time recipient of the National Reader’s Choice Award. Brown has been published for more than 20 years, and her books have been translated 21 foreign languages.
When she’s not writing, she likes to plot new stories in her backyard with her tom cat, Boots Randolph Terminator Outlaw, who protects the yard from all kinds of wicked varmints like crickets, locusts, and spiders. Visit her at www.carolynbrownbooks.com.
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | GoodReads |