Spotlight & Giveaway: Summertime on the Ranch by Carolyn Brown

Posted April 28th, 2021 by in Blog, Spotlight / 69 comments

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

Hi Carolyn and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Summertime on the Ranch!

 
Hello, everyone! I’m so glad to be back here at Harlequin Junkie with Sara and all the folks to talk about my newest novella, Summertime on the Ranch.
 

Please summarize the book for the readers here:

Becca McKay has been in Nashville doing everything she can to land a country music contract, but when her grandmother, Greta, gets sick, Becca packs up her twelve-year-old SUV and heads back to Terral, Oklahoma to help take care of Greta. Once she arrives, she quickly gets hired at the O’Donnells’ watermelon wine making business. It’s a far cry from singing, but it’s better than some of the jobs she held down in Nashville while she was trying to get a toe in the music industry.

Dalton Wilson has been the foreman on the O’Donnells’ ranch for a couple of years now. He’s thirty years old and has a reputation for being a bad-boy cowboy, but deep in his heart, he is more than ready to settle down. It’s love at first sight for Dalton, but convincing Becca that he is ready to hang up his bad boy spurs is quite another thing, and he wasn’t getting much help–from a testy old bull that kept breaking fences to get to the watermelon fields, to just about everything else, it seemed like Dalton wasn’t every going to win his lady.
 

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

***“Don’t pay no attention to what she says, Tuff. She don’t know jack squat about a good rodeo dog like you.”
***In Becca’s opinion, he was still as ugly as sin on Sunday morning.
***It takes a brave and a determined woman to tame a wild boy, but once you get the job done, they make mighty fine husbands, fathers and lovers,” she (Grammie) said with a sly wink.

 

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

  • I got to go back to Terral, Oklahoma to visit the watermelon ranch from Love, Drunk Cowboy. What fun that was!
  • It had been more than a decade since I got to write about making watermelon wine. Going back and doing a little research on that refreshed my memory.
  • By the time the novella was finished, I was wishing for a bottle of that watermelon wine.
  • I squealed when I saw the cover for this one…it’s so so fitting with the heart carved out of the melon.

 

What first attracts your Hero to the Heroine and vice versa?

I’m a country music fan, but I also know how tough for a person to carve a place in that industry, so I could relate to Becca for that.
Dalton? Well, darlin’, who doesn’t like a bad boy cowboy with his swagger, slow drawl and sexy eyes.

 

Did any scene have you blushing, crying or laughing while writing it? And Why?

Laughing more than anything. I loved writing this scene when Big John, the watermelon loving bull gets into the watermelon field in a rain storm.

Snippit:
She had dealt with cattle all her life, and Big John didn’t scare her one bit. If he turned malicious and came at her, she could always throw the melon down and run like hell. Rain soaked her to the skin and her long blonde hair was hanging limp before she had taken half a dozen steps, but the bull followed behind her like a lost puppy.
Dalton drove up in the ranch work truck about the time she made it to the middle of the dirt road. He rolled down the window a few inches and yelled, “Are you crazy? Big John is the meanest bull at the rodeos. He could kill you in a split second.”
“Not as long as I’ve got a watermelon in my hands. Turn the truck around and show me which pasture to put him in.” She took another step and her foot sank down in mud that came up over the top of her shoes. Not even the rain could mask the sucking noise when she pulled it out and kept walking. There was no way she could go across the cattle guard with the bull, but she saw where he had broken down the fence on his way to the watermelon field.
“Okay, Big John,” she told him. “We’re going in the same way you came out. If you rip up a leg on the barbed wire, I’m not going to feel a bit sorry for you.”
The bull threw back his head and bellowed louder than ever before.
“If you want this watermelon, then you can quit your belly achin’ and get over one little strand of barbed wire,” she told him.

 

Readers should read this book….

because it will give them hope for something better when their original plans don’t work out, and will remind them that love conquers all things.

 

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have in the works?

I just finished a women’s fiction that will come out next spring, and now I’m diving into some edits. After that I start another women’s fiction book that’s scheduled for next summer.
Upcoming releases:
June 22: The Hope Chest
July 13: Small Town Charm (a novella)
July 27: Second Chance at Sunflower Ranch, a cowboy book with Small Town Charm as a bonus
July 27: Secrets in the Sand (reissue of Honky Tonk Angel)
Sept. 28: Holiday on the Ranch (reissue of Cowboy Boots for Christmas)
Dec. 7: The Sunshine Club
Dec. 28: Red River Deep (reissue of Red River Deep).
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

 

Giveaway: I’ll give away a $25 Amazon Gift Card.

 

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: Do you enjoy reading novellas?

 
a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Excerpt from Summertime on the Ranch:

Becca scolded herself for leaving the door open.
Now Dalton’s pesky dog had snuck into the watermelon wine shed. If he scratched off a hair and it landed in one of the containers of juice, she intended to strangle the shaggy critter and hang him out on the barbed wire fence to show all the other ugly mutts in southern Oklahoma what happens when a dog hair got into her wine.
She crammed the air lock down on the bottle, wiped the outside, and hurried over to the door. “Get out of here!” she yelled as she pointed outside. Austin had trusted her with the wine shed for a whole week, and she was not going to let her boss and best friend down.
Tuff rolled over on his back and looked up at her with big, brown eyes. “I said, go!” She stomped her foot, but the dog just wagged his tail. “Who names a raggedy-ass mutt, Tuff, anyway?” She grabbed a broom, and his tail flipped back and forth so fast that it was a blur.
“He ain’t afraid of a broom.” Dalton’s deep Texas drawl startled her. “I use one just like that to scratch his tummy out in the barn, and he’s named after Tuff Hydeman who is a World Champion Professional Bullrider.” He gave a shrill whistle and Tuff jumped up from the floor and stood at attention. “Come on boy. We won’t stay where we’re not wanted.”
“Shaggy from the old Scooby-Doo shows fits him better,” Becca said.
“Now, you’re just hurting the poor little fella’s feelings,” Dalton said. “Don’t pay no attention to what she says, Tuff. She don’t know jack squat about a good rodeo dog like you.”
Becca popped her hands on her hips. “I’ve been to rodeos, and I grew up on a ranch. Don’t tell me that I don’t know nothing about cattle dogs.”
Dalton Wilson’s confidence oozed out of him, but then there wasn’t a woman in the whole universe who wouldn’t jump at the chance to walk down the aisle with him. Sweet lord, the cowboy looked like sex on a stick.
Dalton flashed a brilliant smile that softened his square jaw. “You should never judge a book by its cover.” He gave another shrill whistle and Tuff pranced toward the door, head and tail held high as if he was marching up to the judge’s stand to receive the biggest trophy in a prestigious dog show.
In Becca’s opinion, he was still as ugly as sin on Sunday morning.
Together Dalton and Tuff strutted out of the shed. One sexy cowboy that Becca was determined not to let get under her skin or in her heart, and a wiry dog that shared DNA with steel wool.
“Dammit!” Becca swore under her breath. “I’ve probably joined all the women in the universe in admiring him, but the difference is that I’m stronger than they are, and I can damn well fight off his charms.”
Becca McKay lived up to her Irish heritage with her flaming red hair and mossy green eyes. She loved Irish coffee, Irish food and had a little of the Irish accent just like her daddy who’d been born in County Cork. When it came to music and the southern accent in her voice, she was her mama’s daughter, and she was country through and through.
Becca had covered songs by Tanya Tucker, Reba McIntire, Dolly Parton and a whole host of other female country artists from the time she could hold a microphone at county fairs, family reunions or anywhere anyone would let her sing. With stars in her eyes, she’d gone to Nashville right out of high school, intent on making a career as a country music recording artist. By Christmas, she figured she would have a contract, and all the folks back home in Ringgold, Texas, would be listening to her sing on the radio.
Yeah, right.
At Christmas, she was working for one of the dinner theaters in the evenings and singing on the street corners just to make rent for the one-bedroom apartment she shared with four other girls. Ten years later, she was working at Tootsie’s Lounge as a bartender at night, in a winery during the day and living in the same walk-up apartment. At least by that time, she was sharing the place with only one other girl, who was just as desperate as she was to get a toe in the door as a country singer.
The previous December, she had been on her way home from Tootsie’s some time after two in the morning when the high heel of her boot stabbed a piece of paper. No matter how hard she shook her foot, it wouldn’t let go. Finally, she leaned against the brick wall of a building and removed it with her fingers.
The streetlight illuminated the paper enough that she could identify it as the last page of a contract that had no signature. The next morning, her grandmother, who lived just over the Red River from Texas in Terral, Oklahoma, called to tell her that she had fallen and twisted her ankle. Could Becca come home for a few weeks to help her out? Everything seemed like an omen—the contract with no name on it suggested that she would never sign with a record company, and her grandmother, who never asked for help from anyone, seemed to say that Nashville would never really be her home.
Becca gave notice at both her jobs, handed her set of apartment keys to her roommate, and drove west, watching her hopes and dreams fade away in the rear-view mirror. Grammie McKay, Irish to the bone and with a thick Irish accent, got her the job with Austin O’Donnell’s wine business. Grammie’s ankle healed, and she was getting around really well these days. Becca enjoyed her work, but Terral, population less than four hundred, sure didn’t provide many opportunities for her to sing.
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” she muttered as she closed the door to the wine shed and went back to squeezing the juice from the first watermelons of the season.
The door hinges squeaked, and Becca flipped around, ready to yell at Tuff if he’d figured out a way to get inside again. She might not like his dog, but her pulse jacked up a few notches at the thought of seeing Dalton a second time that morning. She was already visualizing him in those faded tight-fitting jeans, scuffed up cowboy boots, and his dusty old straw hat as she turned away from the watermelon she was cutting into chunks. In her mind’s eye she could see his dark hair curling on his chambray shirt collar, and his bright blue eyes twinkling as he teased her about his worthless dog.
“Rodeo dog, my butt,” she muttered.
“You callin’ me a dog, darlin’ girl, or have you givin’ up singin’ and gone to ridin’ bulls?” Grammie McKay’s accent jerked the picture of Dalton right out of her head.
“No, ma’am,” Becca answered. “I was fussin’ to myself about that mutt of Dalton Wilson’s. Seems like every time it gets a chance, it comes lookin’ for me.”
Grammie sat down in a lawn chair. This morning she wore a bright green sweat suit that brought out the glimmer in eyes that were almost the same color as Becca’s. Her red hair, now sprinkled with gray, was twisted up in a knot on the top of her head. “There’d be something wrong with a lassie who doesn’t like a dog, so maybe you better examine yourself instead of poor old Tuff. Pooch can’t help the way God made him anymore than you can help the way the good Lord made you. What’s really eatin’ on your heart this mornin’? Are you afraid you can’t run this wine makin’ business for a spell all by yourself?”
“Nothing like that, and Lord knows Austin and Rye and those precious children of theirs need a vacation. I’m glad Austin trusted me enough to leave me to do the job for a week.” Becca admitted that much, but she sure didn’t want to talk about the way the cowboy who lived across the dirt road affected her. Dalton Wilson was known all over southern Oklahoma and north Texas for his bad boy reputation, and Becca sure didn’t need that in her life.
“Then is it Dalton and not his poor, old ugly dog that’s gotten your knickers in a twist?” Grammie asked.
Becca dragged a lawn chair across the room and sat down beside her grandmother. “I don’t have time for a one-night stand kind of guy. Dalton is a love ‘em and leave ‘em cowboy, and I refuse to be just another notch on his bedpost.”
“Ahhh, darlin’ girl,” Grammie smiled. “That does bring back memories. That’s exactly what my mama told me about your grandpapa. She said, “Greta, that boy will break your heart, and you’ll be nothing but a notch on his bedpost.’ It takes a brave and a determined woman to tame a wild boy, but once you get the job done, they make mighty fine husbands, fathers and lovers,” she said with a sly wink. “And I’d be living testimony of that. I tamed Seamus McKay. Not to say it didn’t take a while, but by the time we had your daddy, he had come through the fire and was pure gold until the day he died.”
“Fire?” Becca asked.
“Do you think that tamin’ him was easy? I had to light a few blazes under him before the job was finished. Dalton might be wild as a March hare right now, but maybe he hasn’t met the right Irish woman, someone willin’ to strike the match like I was with my Seamus.”
“Well, I hope he meets her soon and quits crossing the road to this part of the O’Donnell property,” Becca smarted off.
“Better think hard about what you ask for, Miss Greta Rebecca McKay.” Grammie used her full name which meant she was dead serious.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

City meets country in this brand new novella from beloved, bestselling author Carolyn Brown.

This city girl is about to learn a thing or two about bad-boy cowboys.

Becca McKay has been in Nashville doing everything she can to land a country music contract, but when her grandmother, Greta, gets sick, Becca packs up her twelve-year-old SUV and heads back to Terral, Oklahoma to help take care of Greta. Once she arrives, she quickly gets hired at the O’Donnells’ watermelon wine making business.

Dalton Wilson has been the foreman on the O’Donnells’ ranch for a couple of years now. He’s thirty years old and has a reputation for being a bad-boy cowboy, but deep in his heart, he is more than ready to settle down. It’s love at first sight for Dalton, but convincing Becca that he is ready to hang up his bad boy spurs is quite another thing—until the night they both have too much watermelon wine and open their hearts…
Book Links: Book Links: Amazon | B&N | | 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 and a RITA finalist. 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 20 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 |
 
 
 

«
»

69 Responses to “Spotlight & Giveaway: Summertime on the Ranch by Carolyn Brown”

  3. Pammie R.

    Yes. They’re great to read when I don’t want to read a long story or as a pallet cleanser between longer stories.

  4. Leeza Stetson

    Yes, I do enjoy reading novels. There great when I don’t have a lot of time for a longer book, and they still tell me a story.

  10. Mary Preston

    I don’t read a lot of novellas. I always feel a book can’t be too long.

  14. Audrey Stewart

    I love them. It seems like I’m always sitting in the car waiting for someone, and I like a good that can be read quickly.

  16. laurieg72

    I do enjoy reading novellas. They’re a great introduction to a new author or a new series. It’s nice to have a quick read while you wait for an appointment or while you wait for your husband or a child to get ready to go somewhere or do something.

    I have books stashed everywhere: car, every room in my house, outside in the garage and the shed down by the lake. I’m always prepared to fill time gaps with a story. Novellas can be very satisfying quick reads.

  19. Jennifer Shiflett

    Yes. Sometimes I just want to read something a little bit shorter.

  22. Carolyn Brown

    Good morning everyone! Thank you for your comments, and I’m so glad to see that many of you do enjoy a novella. I plan to write a few more in the future, and for those of you who would like a “short” listen on audio, I’ve done a couple of those and have plans to do more. I’ve always said that I have the most amazing readers in the world–and I still believe that with all my heart!

  29. Kathleen O

    Yes I do, because it sometimes gives the story of characters that might not get a full novel, but you want to know how their story turns out.

  34. Jennifer Beyer

    I love to read novellas when I need to have a cleanser between big books or I know I have a busy week and want to know that I can read a whole book that week.

  37. Karen Hackett

    My favorite line is “Shaggy from the old Scooby-Doo shows fits him better,” Becca said. I’m a die-hard Scooby-Doo fan.”
    Yes, I love reading novellas at the back of the printed books, especially when it is written by the author of the book. Double-delight in one package.

  41. Kay Garrett

    Yes, I do! Sometimes we need some quiet reading time, but don’t have enough to get into a full length book. Novellas fit that time perfectly. It’s also an amazing way to be introduced to a new location and new people for an upcoming series – kind of like the welcome wagon.
    2clowns at arkansas dot net

  45. Caro

    Yes and no, lol. I like when they complement a story or series. But sometimes they are sooo good and sooo short, lol. I want more!

  54. Ellen C.

    Yes, yes,yes. Sometimes you don’t need a full length novel to tell a story.

  56. Athena Graeme

    I do read novellas, they are my favorite way to find new authors. I like reading their shorts before committing to their full novels when they have both.

  57. Patricia B.

    Yes I do. So often I am too busy to sit down and dig into a long book. Novellas are the perfect length for a quick but good read. It is one reason anthologies are favorites.

  58. Janie McGaugh

    I certainly have read novellas that I enjoy, especially those that are part of a series I’m already reading.

  60. Anita H.

    Yes, I do enjoy novellas, sometimes just need a shorter story for a change

  62. Carolyn Brown

    Just dropping back in this morning to thank everyone again for your comments. I always love scrolling down through them and reading the answers.