The Double D Ranch
A Fortuna, Texas Novel Book 1
by Rochelle Bradley
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Longhorns and lingerie...
Much to the chagrin of foreman Josiah, Jessie Davidson wants a romance reduction. But the Double D Ranch hides a secret. Since inheriting the property, Jessie kept her grandmother’s hoard concealed, but now she’s found the courage to purge the unwanted items: steamy novels, thousands of them. Romance has to go! Donating the books is a good thing, right? Not when coupled with a dare.
The dare spirals out of control. The ante is upped when caches of the spicy books, left in barber shops, pool halls, and pubs, challenge others to join the fad. A perverted prankster runs amok playing on the town’s fantasies. Book clubs are formed. Plots acted out. In a town saturated with romance, Jessie finds her love life underdeveloped.
Keep Jessie safe. It’s the promise Josiah Barnes made to Jessie’s dying grandmother. He aims to honor it, even if it means protecting Jessie from himself. Failing her in the past has him on high alert when the Double D becomes ground zero for the arousal avalanche sweeping the town. As a full-support, silent partner, Josiah will do anything to augment the Double D. But when Jessie starts selling handmade lingerie, keeping his hands to himself is easier said than done…
Will she shelve happily ever after like a rejected novel, or open her heart and start a new chapter?
Goodreads * Amazon
“You ready?” Jessie hesitated, embarrassed about the collection
Grandma left. She led B.J. up the hardwood stairs to the second floor.
The scent of his musky cologne preceded him.
B.J. smirked. “Born that way.”
“I doubt it.” Her hand gripped the metal doorknob. When she’d inherited the Double D Ranch from her grandparents, the cache in the upstairs bedroom came as a complete shock. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, steeling herself for his reaction. The area behind the door once housed Grandma’s sewing room but now…
The mess was as awe-inspiring as it was overwhelming, which had been why she enlisted the help of the reluctantly altruistic B.J.
“Well?” he grunted, crossing his arms as he waited. A hard worker, the thirty-two-year-old man had caught her eye a year ago with a smile that lit his face. The smile disappeared, however, when his wife left him for another man. Now the handsome man scowled as a hobby.
Her hesitant fingers tightened around the smooth knob, slowly her wrist shifted, and the latch popped. The door opened a crack. “You ready?” she repeated, taking another deep breath.
He shifted his feet with impatience. “Already said I was.”
Words could do little to describe the mess or the enormity of it. It wasn’t the worst thing she’d ever encountered but Jessie found it embarrassing, nonetheless.
She could’ve had a cleaning party with her best friends, Kelly and Mona, but they’d heckle her to hell and back with what they’d find, plus the whole town would find out in no time. She didn’t want her grandma’s neurotic obsession, the Davidson version of the skeleton in the closet, to become known.
Then there was Josiah. He’d keep the secret. But being confined with the cowboy made it hard for Jessie to breathe. Her father trusted B.J. and laboring beside a stranger would be easier than dealing with the funny feelings bumping elbows with Josiah caused.
No, B.J. was her only option.
She swallowed then pushed the door open. The hinges creaked, filling the silence.
B.J. blinked twice. “What the hell?”
Books--thousands and thousands of paperback books, all romance novels--were stacked in neat rows from floor to ceiling. The bedroom was full save for a three by three space on the floor. It was a dark closet with book wallpaper. To say her grandmother had loved to read was an understatement.
B.J. pushed on the stacks a few times but nothing moved, it was solid. He whistled low.
The confounded man stood with hands on hips staring at the twelve-foot ceiling line. “How am I going to reach the top?”
“I planned ahead, knowing you weren’t ten feet high.” Jessie retrieved a four-foot step stool from behind the door. She unfolded it and he climbed up. In the hallway, a stack of plastic storage totes waited to be filled. She retrieved one and placed it next to the base of the ladder.
Many of the books had worn spines and dog-eared pages. Memories of Grandma flitted to mind. When Jessie was in elementary school she’d climbed into her grandma’s warm lap and asked, “Why do you read them?”
Grandma’s eyes had crinkled as she smiled. “Love, child. They are filled with love. Everyone wants to live happily ever after. Someday, Jessie, you’ll find it too.” She’d tweaked Jessie’s nose then tickled her.
“Hey, Jessie,” B.J. spoke, startling her. He glanced down from the ladder. “You’re gonna need more tubs. What the hell kind of books are these, anyway?” He stared at the cover of a scantily clad woman leaning against a bare chested man in leather pants. “Werewolves in Heat?”
“Grandma had a thing for romance novels.” Jessie shrugged, feeling her face heat.
“Honey, it was more than a thing. She hoarded the damn books.”
B.J. was right. One stack near the wall held one hundred and forty books. Some stacks had thinner books, equaling more
Jessie was grateful for the longhorn cattle ranch her grandparents left her, even if it hid her grandmother’s secret. Her grandparents each died within a year and her breath hitched thinking about them. Josiah had worked for her grandpa Don but stayed on as foreman when she inherited.
As if on cue, Josiah’s sun-kissed face peeked around the corner. The dusty tip of his boot and a stray piece of hay sent her mind reeling to the night he’d found her crying in the hayloft. The memory of his lips on her neck sent a shiver down her spine.
He pointed to B.J. who reached for more books, and mouthed, “You okay?”
Her heart tripped when she gazed into his curious eyes framed with a brow etched with concern. She gave a thumbs up then waved him off, slightly annoyed yet comforted he was checking on her.
B.J. smirked. “Born that way.”
“I doubt it.” Her hand gripped the metal doorknob. When she’d inherited the Double D Ranch from her grandparents, the cache in the upstairs bedroom came as a complete shock. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, steeling herself for his reaction. The area behind the door once housed Grandma’s sewing room but now…
The mess was as awe-inspiring as it was overwhelming, which had been why she enlisted the help of the reluctantly altruistic B.J.
“Well?” he grunted, crossing his arms as he waited. A hard worker, the thirty-two-year-old man had caught her eye a year ago with a smile that lit his face. The smile disappeared, however, when his wife left him for another man. Now the handsome man scowled as a hobby.
Her hesitant fingers tightened around the smooth knob, slowly her wrist shifted, and the latch popped. The door opened a crack. “You ready?” she repeated, taking another deep breath.
He shifted his feet with impatience. “Already said I was.”
Words could do little to describe the mess or the enormity of it. It wasn’t the worst thing she’d ever encountered but Jessie found it embarrassing, nonetheless.
She could’ve had a cleaning party with her best friends, Kelly and Mona, but they’d heckle her to hell and back with what they’d find, plus the whole town would find out in no time. She didn’t want her grandma’s neurotic obsession, the Davidson version of the skeleton in the closet, to become known.
Then there was Josiah. He’d keep the secret. But being confined with the cowboy made it hard for Jessie to breathe. Her father trusted B.J. and laboring beside a stranger would be easier than dealing with the funny feelings bumping elbows with Josiah caused.
No, B.J. was her only option.
She swallowed then pushed the door open. The hinges creaked, filling the silence.
B.J. blinked twice. “What the hell?”
Books--thousands and thousands of paperback books, all romance novels--were stacked in neat rows from floor to ceiling. The bedroom was full save for a three by three space on the floor. It was a dark closet with book wallpaper. To say her grandmother had loved to read was an understatement.
B.J. pushed on the stacks a few times but nothing moved, it was solid. He whistled low.
The confounded man stood with hands on hips staring at the twelve-foot ceiling line. “How am I going to reach the top?”
“I planned ahead, knowing you weren’t ten feet high.” Jessie retrieved a four-foot step stool from behind the door. She unfolded it and he climbed up. In the hallway, a stack of plastic storage totes waited to be filled. She retrieved one and placed it next to the base of the ladder.
Many of the books had worn spines and dog-eared pages. Memories of Grandma flitted to mind. When Jessie was in elementary school she’d climbed into her grandma’s warm lap and asked, “Why do you read them?”
Grandma’s eyes had crinkled as she smiled. “Love, child. They are filled with love. Everyone wants to live happily ever after. Someday, Jessie, you’ll find it too.” She’d tweaked Jessie’s nose then tickled her.
“Hey, Jessie,” B.J. spoke, startling her. He glanced down from the ladder. “You’re gonna need more tubs. What the hell kind of books are these, anyway?” He stared at the cover of a scantily clad woman leaning against a bare chested man in leather pants. “Werewolves in Heat?”
“Grandma had a thing for romance novels.” Jessie shrugged, feeling her face heat.
“Honey, it was more than a thing. She hoarded the damn books.”
B.J. was right. One stack near the wall held one hundred and forty books. Some stacks had thinner books, equaling more
Jessie was grateful for the longhorn cattle ranch her grandparents left her, even if it hid her grandmother’s secret. Her grandparents each died within a year and her breath hitched thinking about them. Josiah had worked for her grandpa Don but stayed on as foreman when she inherited.
As if on cue, Josiah’s sun-kissed face peeked around the corner. The dusty tip of his boot and a stray piece of hay sent her mind reeling to the night he’d found her crying in the hayloft. The memory of his lips on her neck sent a shiver down her spine.
He pointed to B.J. who reached for more books, and mouthed, “You okay?”
Her heart tripped when she gazed into his curious eyes framed with a brow etched with concern. She gave a thumbs up then waved him off, slightly annoyed yet comforted he was checking on her.
Plumb Twisted
A Fortuna, Texas Novel Book 2
Karaoke and Kidnapping...
Piper McCracken needs a fresh start. Her father’s death, a failed engagement, and her ex-fiancé-turned-stalker prompt her to make a bold leap . . . from the Windy City to Fortuna, Texas. Piper feels ready to take on small town life—that is, until she’s erroneously proclaimed a shy cowboy’s mail-order bride.
Hired as a personal assistant to Jessie Barnes, Piper becomes much more: friend, beta tester, and . . . intimate apparel model? With a three-legged cat, fake news, drunken karaoke, romance novel obsessed men, a cocky old lady, and a perverted town prankster, Piper finds Fortuna plumb twisted.
All Cole Dart really needs is his family and job working at the Big Deal ranch. After surviving cancer, his life is like a pair of broken-in boots. Comfortable. He doesn’t want the complication of a relationship now. Or ever. But when Piper’s stalker catches up to her, Cole’s protective instincts kick into high gear and he’s determined to step between her and danger, no matter the cost.
When a tornado rips through town, Cole’s home is strewn across the county, can Piper help him pick up the pieces and find happily ever after or will the stalker tear them apart forever?
Goodreads * Amazon
When Cole and Piper arrived at the truck stop, Cole flagged down the
owner, Norma Stitts. She waved them in. He took Piper's elbow and led
her to a booth.
Piper inspected the bookshelf by the door, then gazed around the room, taking it all in. Cole tried not to stare, but it proved hard not to watch her first encounter with a Texas truck stop.
"There are three men reading romance novels," she said in awe. Packed with men, but also a few women and children, Stitts' was hopping.
"I'm surprised it's not more," Cole said, rubbing his chin.
"Really?" Piper's eyes widened.
"See that bookshelf? It's a major exchange center for the book trade."
"Book trade?"
"You'll have to ask Miss Jessie about how it started," Cole explained.
"Mrs. Barnes, my boss?"
"Yes. Sorry, I've called her Miss Jessie for years."
A man entered the restaurant, placed two books on the shelf, then ran his finger down the spines in the line and pulled out another. He paused, reading the back.
"Do you see that man?" Cole asked, and she nodded. "He's a farmer. Owns a couple hundred acres, a modest spread, and he loves romances."
The farmer pocketed the book. He picked out two more before leaving.
"Ah, romance books. This is what you meant yesterday?" Her cheeks pinked.
"Yes." He cleared his throat, which had suddenly gone dry. "It started with a personal challenge to one man, a dare. He didn't back down. He liked the books and dared others. Then it spread like wildfire on dry prairie grass."
They ordered and sipped the rich dark coffee. "This is good." Inhaling deeply, she gripped the ceramic mug as if it held ambrosia.
He leaned back and relaxed. Warmth spread through his body, happy to have pleased her.
"So who dared you?" she asked.
He nearly spit coffee.
"I mean, why do you read them?"
"I like the stories."
"You mean you like the sex." She tilted her head and grinned.
Sure, he liked the steamy scenes, but that wasn't the whole reason he read them. "I like happy endings," he offered with a shrug. She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Okay, I like the hot scenes, but only because of the love." He swallowed.
"Love?"
The waitress placed food on the table, saving him. They ate in silence except for an occasional comment about the flavor of the food. After Piper pushed an empty plate away, she asked, "Are all cowboys like you?"
Uh oh. "Like, how?"
"You know, crunchy on the outside, gooey on the inside?"
Cole laughed. "Most likely," he answered, as another man took more books.
"I don't like romance stories," she admitted in a quiet voice. Before he could ask, she explained, "The heroines are too soft. I don't like to read about weak women. Plus, those men always have movie star looks, amazing careers and are billionaires. You can't find your soulmate in a romance book."
"But you might find personality traits you like," he offered. She shrugged, not buying it. "I don't see the women as weak—only flawed, with obstacles to overcome."
"I suppose everyone has flaws."
"What's yours?" he asked with a smirk.
"Liking the wrong type of men," she muttered.
His stomach clenched. "That's a cop-out answer." He'd unfairly asked, so he offered his shortcoming. "I'm self-conscious about my looks."
She inspected him critically and sweat broke out across his forehead. "Most people are."
He leaned close and whispered, "It keeps me from talking and interacting with people. I get nervous and won't go places if there's a crowd." It had been years since the operation and it still affected him.
"You're fine, Cole. You're more than fine." Piper shifted in her seat and leaned forward. "Look, you're out talking to me and I'm a stranger and a woman."
He nodded. "Normally, I'd be a basket case of nerves."
"Looks are all personal taste. Someone might think you're ugly or someone might think you're the sexiest man alive. The thing you have to ask yourself is: does their opinion matter to me?" She smiled sweetly over the rim of her mug.
"What's your opinion?" he blurted, needing to know.
"Does it matter to you what I think?"
"Yes. It matters greatly." It was true, but he didn't want to ask himself why. The smile that lit her face made his heart hitch. She set her coffee down.
"Well, Cole, I like the crunchy-gooey combo. It's very appealing." She blushed, long eyelashes hiding her eyes as she looked at the table. "I find you..." she paused, drumming her fingers against the side of her mug.
"Pretty, right?" A short, old woman said as she slid into the booth next to Cole and pinched his cheek. "This one's a hot tamale."
"Hello, Ms. Hardmann." Cole's face felt like the temperature of the sun. He rubbed his cheek. "This is Piper McCracken. Piper this is Desire Hardmann."
"Hello, young lady." Desire took Piper's hand and squeezed. With a wink, she yelled over her shoulder to a man in a white apron, "Hey, Hugh Stitts! Come over here and meet Cole's Russian mail-order bride."
Piper inspected the bookshelf by the door, then gazed around the room, taking it all in. Cole tried not to stare, but it proved hard not to watch her first encounter with a Texas truck stop.
"There are three men reading romance novels," she said in awe. Packed with men, but also a few women and children, Stitts' was hopping.
"I'm surprised it's not more," Cole said, rubbing his chin.
"Really?" Piper's eyes widened.
"See that bookshelf? It's a major exchange center for the book trade."
"Book trade?"
"You'll have to ask Miss Jessie about how it started," Cole explained.
"Mrs. Barnes, my boss?"
"Yes. Sorry, I've called her Miss Jessie for years."
A man entered the restaurant, placed two books on the shelf, then ran his finger down the spines in the line and pulled out another. He paused, reading the back.
"Do you see that man?" Cole asked, and she nodded. "He's a farmer. Owns a couple hundred acres, a modest spread, and he loves romances."
The farmer pocketed the book. He picked out two more before leaving.
"Ah, romance books. This is what you meant yesterday?" Her cheeks pinked.
"Yes." He cleared his throat, which had suddenly gone dry. "It started with a personal challenge to one man, a dare. He didn't back down. He liked the books and dared others. Then it spread like wildfire on dry prairie grass."
They ordered and sipped the rich dark coffee. "This is good." Inhaling deeply, she gripped the ceramic mug as if it held ambrosia.
He leaned back and relaxed. Warmth spread through his body, happy to have pleased her.
"So who dared you?" she asked.
He nearly spit coffee.
"I mean, why do you read them?"
"I like the stories."
"You mean you like the sex." She tilted her head and grinned.
Sure, he liked the steamy scenes, but that wasn't the whole reason he read them. "I like happy endings," he offered with a shrug. She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Okay, I like the hot scenes, but only because of the love." He swallowed.
"Love?"
The waitress placed food on the table, saving him. They ate in silence except for an occasional comment about the flavor of the food. After Piper pushed an empty plate away, she asked, "Are all cowboys like you?"
Uh oh. "Like, how?"
"You know, crunchy on the outside, gooey on the inside?"
Cole laughed. "Most likely," he answered, as another man took more books.
"I don't like romance stories," she admitted in a quiet voice. Before he could ask, she explained, "The heroines are too soft. I don't like to read about weak women. Plus, those men always have movie star looks, amazing careers and are billionaires. You can't find your soulmate in a romance book."
"But you might find personality traits you like," he offered. She shrugged, not buying it. "I don't see the women as weak—only flawed, with obstacles to overcome."
"I suppose everyone has flaws."
"What's yours?" he asked with a smirk.
"Liking the wrong type of men," she muttered.
His stomach clenched. "That's a cop-out answer." He'd unfairly asked, so he offered his shortcoming. "I'm self-conscious about my looks."
She inspected him critically and sweat broke out across his forehead. "Most people are."
He leaned close and whispered, "It keeps me from talking and interacting with people. I get nervous and won't go places if there's a crowd." It had been years since the operation and it still affected him.
"You're fine, Cole. You're more than fine." Piper shifted in her seat and leaned forward. "Look, you're out talking to me and I'm a stranger and a woman."
He nodded. "Normally, I'd be a basket case of nerves."
"Looks are all personal taste. Someone might think you're ugly or someone might think you're the sexiest man alive. The thing you have to ask yourself is: does their opinion matter to me?" She smiled sweetly over the rim of her mug.
"What's your opinion?" he blurted, needing to know.
"Does it matter to you what I think?"
"Yes. It matters greatly." It was true, but he didn't want to ask himself why. The smile that lit her face made his heart hitch. She set her coffee down.
"Well, Cole, I like the crunchy-gooey combo. It's very appealing." She blushed, long eyelashes hiding her eyes as she looked at the table. "I find you..." she paused, drumming her fingers against the side of her mug.
"Pretty, right?" A short, old woman said as she slid into the booth next to Cole and pinched his cheek. "This one's a hot tamale."
"Hello, Ms. Hardmann." Cole's face felt like the temperature of the sun. He rubbed his cheek. "This is Piper McCracken. Piper this is Desire Hardmann."
"Hello, young lady." Desire took Piper's hand and squeezed. With a wink, she yelled over her shoulder to a man in a white apron, "Hey, Hugh Stitts! Come over here and meet Cole's Russian mail-order bride."
More Than a Fantasy
A Fortuna, Texas Novel Book 3
Book 3 in the Fortuna, Texas series.
One night changed everything...
Finally content single, second grade teacher Kelly Greene doesn’t need a man screwing up her life, even a sexy cop like Ben. All she needs is her rechargeable double A batteries.
Operation: Win Kelly. For Officer Ben Moore repairing a creepy Victorian house, a workplace dalliance, and camping au naturel are beyond his comfort zone. Ben schemes to bring Kelly’s fantasies alive, but in Fortuna, Texas, where men read romance and cosplay is second nature, it’s hard to keep their rendezvous hidden from gossipmongers and, more importantly, her match-making momma.
When danger threatens Fortuna Elementary, Ben is assigned a case that keeps thrusting them together, Kelly has a helluva time ignoring her heart—let alone her girly bits.
Ben holds the key to the handcuffs but Kelly must decide if he also holds the key to her heart.
Municipal Liaisons
A Fortuna, Texas Novel Book 4
Book 4 in the romantic comedy Fortuna, Texas series.
She aspired to renew the town; he desired to revive her love life…
Who’d have thought Michaela Arschfick would like Texas? Particularly some Podunk town with the mighty Fire Ant as its mascot. But from first glance, Fortuna captivates Michaela.
With most of the residents, primarily men, keeping their noses glued to the pages of romance novels, they don’t notice Fortuna needs a makeover. Michaela takes on the challenge of opening the eyes of City Hall to Fortuna’s potential. The longer she stays in the cozy town the more it feels like home, especially with the sexy, young mayor giving her VIP treatment.
After his wife died in a flash flood, the mayor of Fortuna, Texas, Jasen Delay, delved into work. Two years later, he’s still wearing the placating smile, but when a vanload of unban consultants visit the town... a beauty catches his eye.
Determined to keep their relationship professional, Jasen and Michaela must stymie their blossoming feelings and focus on revitalizing Fortuna's downtown. A nosy newspaper reporter, a perverted prankster, and sightings of Jasen's wife's ghost have Michaela second guessing her choice to stay. Jasen will do anything to keep Michaela in town. Fortuna needs her but, more importantly, Jasen needs her.
With Jasen's help, can Michaela wade through small town bureaucracy, solve the mystery of the canyon ghost, and learn to trust to her heart?
Book Trailer
Guest Post
YOUNG PEOPLE
While at Panera meeting with a few other writers, I sat with my laptop open and my current work in progress on the screen We were discussing a characterization problem when a blonde woman plopped her mammoth laptop on the table next to me.
The pretty woman was slender with long hair. Her eyes had mild crows feet, but by no means was she old. As I studied her face, I wondered how we knew each other.
She smiled as she said, "This won't work. Can you get it to connect?"
I'm not a computer genius but connecting to Wi-Fi I can do. The Yahoo homepage was open and Scott Trade awaited in the search bar. I checked the Wi-Fi icon for connectivity (makes me sound tech savvy-right?) The internet access icon had an explanation point next to it. Who knows why the connection was wonky, but I disconnected and reconnected. When I opened a new internet window the Yahoo homepage popped up again.
"Oh! Put in Scott Trade,” she said excitedly.
Voila!
Needless to say, she was awed by my computer skills. I hadn’t done a thing. The slow router probably caught up with the number of patrons using it.
"Oh, thanks. Hi, I'm Beth." She stuck out a hand, shaking mine. "When this stuff happens, I always look for young people. They always know what to do."
Beth couldn't have been more than five years older than me, and I’m pushing fifty. I blinked, gazing at my friends then started giggling. Beth thought I was young.
I should have bought her a coffee for the compliment but I was too shocked. Always stay young, people.
Rochelle puts an artistic spin on everything she does but there are two things she fails at miserably:
1. Cooking (seriously, she can burn water)
2. Sewing (buttons immediately fall back off)
She loves baking and makes a mean BTS (Better than Sex) cake. When in observation mode she is quiet, however, her mouth is usually open with an encouraging glass-is-half-full pun or, quite possibly, her foot.
She is a Bearcat, a Buckeye, an interior decorator, and fluent in sarcasm.
In 2008, when her youngest entered Kindergarten, she decided to get the stories out of her head. Midway through her first novel, hurricane Ike (yes, a hurricane in Ohio) rendered the laptop useless with a nine-day power outage. She didn't give up, but continued to pursue her dream.
Every November Rochelle takes on the challenge of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo.org) where she endeavors to write 50,000 words in thirty days. You can often hear her cheering the Dayton area Wrimos (those who join her in this crazy pursuit).
Rochelle shares her home with a big black cat, an itty-bitty orange tiger kitty, her daughter, her son, and her Prince.
She loves to connect with readers. You can find her on Facebook (search for Author Rochelle Bradley), Twitter, Pinterest, and Instagram.
Visit Rochelle's website to sign up for her newsletter to keep up to date about future novels and book signings (RochelleBradley.com).
Website * Facebook * Facebook Group * Twitter * Instagram * Pinterest * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads
Amazon GC 20 and a wire wrapped pendant
Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!
No comments:
Post a Comment