A cowboy like that could break your heart...
Fleeing her latest love-life disaster, big city journalist Libby Brown's transition to rural living isn't going exactly as planned. Her childhood dream has always been to own a farm--but without the constant help of her charming, sexy cowboy neighbor, she'd never make it through her first Wyoming season.
But he could sure keep you warm at night, too...
Handsome rancher Luke Rawlins is impressed by this sassy, independent city girl. But he yearns to do more than help Libby out with her ranch. He's ready for love, and he wants to go the distance...
Then the two get embroiled in their tiny town's one and only crime story, and Libby discovers that their sizzling hot attraction is going to complicate her life in every way possible...
Showing 1-3 of the 3 most recent reviews
1 . Way more than just a Cowboy Romance
Posted April 23, 2011 by wd , ocI got this book when it was offered as a free read a awhile ago and finally got around to it as I was holding off thinking it was going to be one of those cowboy romances with no substance but this book had a very good story, a sort of who done it with lots of twists and things to think about, as well as romance. I cant believe the one poster who gave it 1 star, maybe it was someone who wanted hot intimate scenes or something. I actually read this in 3 days as I kept coming back to it. I am going to order more of her books now as I really liked her style or writing and the story.
2 . Cute story
Posted January 08, 2011 by Stephanie , Troy, NYThis book was a really good read. I love contemporary romance books and this one had great romance along with a bit of a mystery. It wasn't hard to figure out the mystery with a little thought but the author did a good job at keeping you second guessing yourself. The hero was lovable and hard not to like. Great free read, looking forward to reading more from this author.
3 . Awesome
Posted January 06, 2011 by DB , SCIf you like romance with some mystery this book has got it....You would never guess who the bad guy is
March 02, 2010
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Excerpt from Cowboy Trouble by Joanne Kennedy
A chicken will never break your heart.
Not that you can't love a chicken. There are some people in this world who can love just about anything. But a chicken will never love you back. When you look deep into their beady little eyes, there's not a lot of warmth there--just an avarice for worms and bugs and, if it's a rooster, a lot of suppressed anger and sexual frustration.
They don't return your affection in any way.
Expectations, relationship-wise, are right at rock bottom.
That's why Libby Brown decided to start a chicken farm. She wanted some company, and she wanted a farm, but she didn't want to go getting attached to things like she had in the past. She'd been obsessed with farms since she was a kid. It all started with her Fisher Price Farmer Joe Play Set: a plastic barn, some toy animals, and a pair of round headed baby dolls clutching pitchforks like some simpleminded version of American Gothic. A Fisher Price life was the life for her.
Take Atlanta--just give her that countryside.
Libby had her pickup half unloaded when her new neighbor showed up. She didn't see him coming, so he got a prime view of her posterior as she bent over the tailgate, wrestling with the last of her chrome dinette chairs. The chair was entangled in the electric cord from the toaster, so he got a prime introduction to her vocabulary too.
"Howdy," he said.
Howdy? She turned to face him and stifled a snort. Halloween was three months away, but this guy was ready with his cowboy costume. Surely no one actually wore chaps in real life, even in Wyoming. His boots looked like the real thing, though; they were worn and dirty as if they'd kicked around God-knows-what in the old corral, and his gray felt Stetson was all dented, like a horse had stepped on it. A square, stubbled chin gave his face a masculine cast, but there was something soft about his mouth that added a hint of vulnerability. She hopped down from the tailgate. From her perch on the truck, he'd looked like the Marlboro Man on a rough day, but now that they were on the same level, she could see he was kind of cute--like a young Clint Eastwood with a little touch of Elvis.
"Howdy," he said again. He actually tipped his hat and she almost laughed for the first time in a month.
"I'm Luke Rawlins, from down the road," he continued. The man obviously had no idea how absurd he looked, decked out like a slightly used version of Hopalong Cassidy. "Thought maybe you'd need some help moving in. And I brought you a casserole--Chicken Artichoke Supreme. It's my specialty." He held out a massive ceramic dish with the pride of a caveman returning from the hunt. "Or maybe you could use a hand getting that chair broke to ride." Great. She had the bastard son of John Wayne and Martha Stewart for a neighbor. And he thought he was funny.
Worse yet, he thought she was funny.
"Thanks." She took the casserole. "I'm Libby Brown. Are you from that farm with the big barn?"
"Farm? I'm not from any farm." Narrowing his eyes, he slouched against the truck and folded his arms.
"You're not from around here, are you?"
"What makes you say that?"
"You calling my ranch a farm, that's what." A blade of wheatgrass bobbed from one corner of his mouth as he looked her up and down with masculine arrogance. "There's no such thing as a farm in Wyoming," he said.
"Well, what do you call this, then?" Libby gestured toward the sun-baked outbuildings that tilted drunkenly around her own personal patch of prairie.
"That's not what I call it. I call it 'Lackaduck Farm.'" She pointed to the faded letters arched over the barn's wide double doors. "That's what the people before me called it too. It's even painted on the barn."
"Yeah, well, they weren't from around here either. They were New Yorkers and got smacked on the bottom and sent home by Mother Nature. Thought they'd retire out here on some cheap real estate and be gentleman farmers. They didn't realize there's a reason the real estate's cheap. It's tough living." He looked her in the eye, no doubt judging her unfit for a life only real men could endure. "You think you're up to it?"
"As a matter of fact, I am." Libby hoped she sounded a lot more confident than she felt. "This is what I've always wanted, and I'm going to make it work."