HOLD THE PRESSES!!!

Excitement is bouncing around southern Oklahoma like a sugared up seven year old who just spent the day at Grandma's house.  HOT COWBOY NIGHTS in on the shelves and I'm so very excited about this story.

I first met Lizzy in Wild Cowboy Ways where she and I had some very long author/character talks about the way she was letting her fiancé change her into a whimpering woman. But she was going to marry that sucker no matter how much I tried to get her to change her ways, right up until the end of the book when she learned that I'd been right all along.

And then she met Toby at her sister's wedding and she found out just how much sass she'd lost in her recent relationship with Mitch. Hot Cowboy Nights is the story of how she got her sass back and discovered herself again.

Toby--well, it was a delight to have that hunky cowboy sitting beside me while I wrote the story! Sometimes I had to turn down the
air conditioner a few notches and I almost wore out one of those paper fans that's got a Bible verse on one side and an advertisement for a funeral home on the other.

Lizzy and Toby's story is on the shelves and ready to download! Enjoy your visit to Dry Creek, Texas and to the Lucky Penny Ranch!

Carolyn Brown

Walmart Special Edition: http://bit.ly/1qidR5E...
Amazon: http://amzn.to/23NmX7x
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1X77COV
iBooks: http://apple.co/1rJV58x
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1WuuTMh
Google Play: http://bit.ly/1s61Yko

REVIEWS:

Lizzy and Toby were an amazingly adorable couple. They were funny, sweet, and supportive. They were real, down to earth, and they had their human moments. They had bad moods, got grumpy and then said sorry. They were honest and didn't play drama games. I felt like I got to be part of their relationship. I was on the journey with them while they got to really know each other and fall in love. There were some really sweet moments and some very funny ones as well. There is this skunk scene that cracked me up. I love when a book gives that to me, that lighthearted laughter. (Jessica's Totally Over The Top Book Obsession)


Hot Cowboy Nights (Lucky Penny Ranch) is another hit for Carolyn Brown! Carolyn Brown weaves a story that will have you wishing for your own hot cowboy for the night. Toby has come to town to help work his share of The Lucky Penny Ranch, and he meets Lizzy. Lizzy has been recently dumped by her fiancé before the wedding to be with another woman. Now with a hot cowboy living next door, things get steamy really fast. When Toby agrees to be her pretend boyfriend, he will have to keep his hands to himself in private. When things start to get serious, they will have to re-evaluate what they really want. I really loved this story and series. This book is a keeper and has me wanting the next story. Carolyn Brown’s heart warming stories always makes me smile. I recommend this story to everyone. I give Hot Cowboy Nights (Lucky Penny Ranch) 5/5 stars. (From Book Junkiez)

TOP PICK FROM NIGHT OWL REVIEWS...This small town setting provides lots of spice to the story with all the gossiping and neighborly disagreements, some that are even downright mean and the Lucky Penny Ranch provides its own share of intrigue to the story as the sexy cowboys build it up, but of course most of the excitement, fun and suspense comes from the romance itself as both Lizzy and Toby try to keep their romance make-believe. There is some snarky dialogue, some friendly competition and some secrets to add spice to the story and a bit of drama with the ex- fiancé adds some sensational flair and depth.
The Lucky Penny Ranch sure is fun to visit and the characters are quite entertaining so me being completely ensnared by this story isn’t surprising nor is the fact that I can’t wait to read the next one.

Walmart Special Edition: http://bit.ly/1qidR5E...
Amazon: http://amzn.to/23NmX7x
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1X77COV
iBooks: http://apple.co/1rJV58x
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1WuuTMh
Google Play: http://bit.ly/1s61Yko

The First Day of Christmas...

Many, many years ago my sister had a really rough year. So I decided that year that she should have a little present each evening to open up, starting December 1 and ending on Christmas Eve.

She was my best friend and when she passed away three years ago this summer, she not only took a gazillion secrets with her but also part of my heart. I don’t know what's going on in her world, what with her doing her eternity thing without me but it’s been a rough three years for me doing without her. A couple of days ago my sweet brother-in-law came bringing in a stack of notes and laughing when he handed them to me.

She’d kept all the notes I’d put with those little presents almost thirty years ago and he was bringing them back to me. I think she was saying that no matter how much time or distance separates us that we’ll always be those crazy Gray girls from Tishomingo, Oklahoma that were not only sisters but best friends.

So for the next few weeks, I thought I might share some of the notes with y’all.

Number One (written on a large scrap I tore from a brown paper bag out of her pantry):

On the first day of Christmas my sister gave to me a partridge in a pear tree. (I bet you've got that song stuck in your head now, right)

Well, I considered a partridge in a pear tree however—since I’m not noted for ambition above and beyond the call of duty, I just looked at the pear tree over in the neighbor’s yard and did not actually commence to dig it up and put it in this box so scratch the pear tree.

Besides do you know how much trouble a pear tree is? You gotta water it, gotta rake dead leaves, gotta pick the pears, gotta make jars and jars of pear marmalade, then you gotta eat it all because we’d think of all those starvin’ babies in other countries and feel guilty if we wasted food. Then our clothes wouldn’t fit and we’d have to go shopping for bigger ones, so you see the pear tree idea wasn’t so whoopee!

Now about that partridge. It does not say porridge but partridge and that’s a B-I-R-D, not something that you eat with milk and sugar in it. You know that you have a personality conflict with anything that flies or has feathers. Besides if you loved them as much as you love hot biscuits drippin’ with butter—well, darlin’ little sister, think about the flyin, the flappin’ of the little wings and the floppin’ of little body parts as they do their air aerobics in your living room. Then when they get tired, they will light in that kinky hair-do that you have. You’d have a cardiac arrest and you don't even have all your Christmas presents bought.

And the droppin’s—that is droppin’s not drippin’s, as in bacon grease seasoning for your red beans. Droppin’s are rather nasty so no partridge in a pear tree to start of the season. Instead on the first day of Christmas my sister gave to me one little Chris Mouse to hang upon the Christmas tree, one cup of roasted pecans, several kinds of cheese and a little bitty beef log on a red shiny plate.

Corny, huh?

Well, it’s better than a partridge in a pear tree. Enjoy it tonight while you watch your first Christmas movie of the season and remember that I love you.

One week from today...

o

Toby and Lizzy's story hit the markets one week from today. Preorder today and it could be on

your ereader when you wake up on May 31!

A little excerpt:

Lizzy’s plan was to sneak inside the house, up the stairs and into her room. She could already feel the cool water from the shower, washing away the hot sex still lingering on her body.

Her plan did not work.

She hadn’t even kicked her boots off in front of the hall tree when her sister, Allie, shot out of the kitchen, grabbed her by the hand and tugged her into the kitchen.

“Where have you been? I’ve called a dozen times and we were ready to start up a search and rescue party to find you. Mama says you’ve been puttin’ in too many hours at the store. You’ve got to get out of this depression, Lizzy. Mitch isn’t worth it. He’s a sorry son of a bitch, but don’t let him ruin your life. Tomorrow is June first and I declare it the day that you are moving forward with your life.” Allie stopped for a breath and looked around at the other three people in the kitchen. “She’s here. Get out the ice cream, Mama, so we can tell y’all our news.”

Toby, the scalding hot cowboy that she’d been in bed with not thirty minutes ago, winked slyly at her from across the room. That there were sparks bouncing around the kitchen was no surprise; that they didn’t set the wallpaper on fire, now that was a downright miracle.

Lizzy pulled out a kitchen chair and melted into it. Droplets of water still hung from Toby’s hair so he’d had time for a shower before he’d been dragged across the fence to Lizzy and her mother’s house. If she hadn’t had to run by her feed store for a late delivery, she might have already had time to clean up, too. But fate had not liked her in a very long time.

 Her mother, Katy, dipped ice cream into five bowls. These days she was less stressed, now that Granny was in a care facility in Wichita Falls that specialized in treatment and care of folks with dementia and Alzheimer’s.

Lizzy’s older sister, Allie, looked like she was about to explode with some kind of fabulous news. Her husband, Blake O’Donnell, had one of those smiles on his face that a dose of alum couldn’t erase. And then there was Blake’s brother, Toby, leaning against the wall, his rock hard body sending waves of desire shooting through her body like blasts of lightning. It wasn’t fair that he could stand there all calm and collected while butterflies fluttered around in her stomach.

Mitch, her ex fiancée, had been right. God did not like her because her ancestor had turned Audrey’s Place from a hotel to a brothel back in the depression days. An hour ago she was having wild, hot sex with Toby in the back of her Mama’s convenience store in Dry Creek, Texas. Sweet Jesus! Why did he have to be right there in the room with her so soon after they’d gotten all slick with sweat on that twin sized bed in the back room?  

Allie and Katy carried the ice cream to the table and as luck would have it, Toby sat beside Lizzy around the table made for four people. His thigh pressed against hers and she had trouble concentrating on the ice cream, the excitement in her sister’s dark brown eyes, her brother-in-law’s grin or anything else.

“We had the ultra sound done yesterday and it’s a girl...” Allie reached for Blake’s hand.

Katy’s spoon hit the table with a thud.

Toby jumped up and hugged his brother across the table.

Lizzy felt as if someone sucked all the oxygen from her lungs and left her to smother to death in a grove of mesquite trees. She was happy for Allie but still, she wanted more than secret nights of sex with no strings attached. Her body, soul and heart ached for a husband and a family.

The One with Classes for Husbands...

Do you have a romantic husband?

Does he pay you compliments at least twice a week?

Does he remember your birthday and anniversary every single year?

Do you have a birthday coming up soon?

If you answered yes to the first three questions, go wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him—long, hard and lingering. Then drop down on your knees and give thanks that whatever force you believe in gave him to you.

If you answered no to any of the first three questions and yes to the fourth one, then read on, sister.

For all unromantic husbands, we wives have banded together and will be offering classes at the local high school. In lieu of a birthday present, you will take the classes and when you complete them you will be given a certificate and a cute little birthday card to take home to your wife. Wives will hang the certificate in a place where everyone can see her present. If the husband fails to learn from the classes the wife can send him back for refresher courses which will be held once a month. That is written in the small print on the contract that you will sign before the free classes. Yes, free! That means you don’t have to shop, buy your wife a single thing and you even get a card for free. So what are you waiting for?

A minimum of IQ points are required so a simple test will be given immediately before the test. No drinking before class. Classes are graded by stars—one through five with one being the easiest and five the most difficult. Some five star classes require an IQ of at least two digits.

TRASH CLASS: 3 STAR CLASS. Requires dexterity and thinking. Instructions include how to take out the trash and then sweep around the trash can, spray cleaner on the wall behind the trash can, put a new liner in the trash can and put what you swept into the trash can instead of leaving it in a pile in the corner.

HOUSE WORK FOR MEN: 5 STAR CLASS. Difficult buy not impossible. Involves minor things like how to spray lemon oil on a cloth and wipe dust away from shelves and coffee table. Major things like how to plug in and turn on the vacuum cleaner and run it over the carpet and how to wring out a mop. It may contain hazardous spray to the delicate male nasal passages so disposable masks will be provided.

REASONS TO GIVE FLOWERS WHEN IT IS NOT A HOLIDAY. 2 STAR CLASS. Group discussion will be held concerning sending your wife a rose on the day you met her. Surely you can remember that day—believe me, she does! Or maybe sending a carnation or a daisy in a vase with a sweet note attached thanking her for the nice breakfast that she made you at four thirty before you went hunting. A separate class will be held after hours for those who do not know how to write a note.

HOW TO PUT THE TOILET LID DOWN: 1 STAR CLASS. Techniques of how to put down the lid with the final test being if the husband can master the trick in the dark. It also teaches you not to get angry when the wife falls into the water and gets up screaming for a towel and a divorce lawyer.

THE VICTORIA’S SECRET CLASS: 2 STAR CLASS. Some attention and understanding of the female race required. This is a crash course on why most wives do not feel comfortable in thong bikinis—not even those with little velvet bows at the top of her fanny crack. Group discussion will concern buying practical sleepwear as opposed to all those cute slinky things which already take up three drawers in the dresser (which will be very embarrassing if both parties die the same day and the children find all those things when they clean out the dresser so they can sell it).

WASHER METHODOLOGY: 5 STAR CLASS. This is a very advanced class and very few men have ever passed it. It involves knowing which way to turn the dial and how to shut the dryer door. It also deals with which clothing can be washed together and how to separate the laundry. It discusses silks, searching pockets, fabric softeners, bleach and even folding techniques. Not for the impatient or ADH (Attention Deficient Husbands whose minds keep going back to what day it was when he met his wife).

HOW TO FILL AN ICE TRAY AND THROW AWAY EMPTY JELLY JARS: 1 STAR CLASS. Anyone can pass this and have a certificate to bring home for the wife’s birthday with pride.

We wives await our certificates with great anticipation and have already bought a frame—they were on half price at the craft store this week!

Hold the presses...

In only two weeks and one day, Hot Cowboy Nights will hit the market. NOTICE: Wal-Mart will have an exclusive edition with a little extra chapter tucked in at the end.

But between now and May 31 for your reading pleasure, the first book in the Lucky Penny Series, Wild Cowboy Ways, is on sale for your e-readers (Kindle, Kobo, Barnes & Noble, etc.) for only $1.99.

Limited time offer so don't drag your heels.

Happy Reading!!

The One with the Motel...

Back before movies were rated anyone tall enough to shove their quarter up on the shelf could by a ticket. So Mama said I could go to the movies and Psycho was playing that Saturday afternoon. It made a lasting impression on me. When they did a remake, wild horses couldn't have dragged me to the theater to listen to that music again.

Fast forward about forty years later. Mr. B and I were traveling and it had been a very long day. We took the next ramp off the highway and the tiny town only had two motels. They were both vintage right out of the fifties but hey, I could sleep in a broom closet and although a few bars of that old movie shot through my head, I was a grown woman, not a little girl.

I rang the bell at the desk and a tall fellow with gray hair, a matching moustache and an accent appeared from behind curtains. I asked for a room and he said, "That will be $27.95 plus tax."

That should have been my first clue to gather  my coat tails around my body and flee. But I'm a tight wad and figured I was getting a good bargain for a fraction of the cost of a hotel anywhere else. I pulled the credit card out of my purse.

"We don't take credit cards. Cash or checks only." He said impatiently like he had something going on behind that curtain.

"Don't carry cash and only have a credit card." I was relieved because that office really did look like the one in the movie.

"I'll take a personal check." He smiled.

"I'm from Oklahoma and you don't know me. You'd take a check from someone you don't even know?" I asked.

"Sure." He handed me a paper to fill out with my name. No place for a car license number and he didn't even ask for ID. The hotel we'd stayed in the night before wanted everything down to and including my mother' s maiden name, what year my hair turned gray and my tom cat's name.

The voice in my head was screaming at me to run, run, run but I was so tired. So I gave him the check and he gave me one of those real keys, not a plastic credit card looking thing. As I opened the door in unit one right next to the office, I noticed there was not another car parked anywhere.

The carpet did not have that new, clean smell and I'd never been partial to orange shag but the bed was clean and the TV had HBO so we could watch a movie before we fell asleep. But first I had to call the kids and tell them where we were.

There was a jack for a phone and a clean spot in the dust on the table where one used to set but no phone. So I went back to the office and rang the bell. The curtains opened and when I asked where I could find a pay phone (this was in the pre-cell phone days and every time I pay the bill for my cell phone I remember that motel and do not fuss about the bill) and he told me there wasn't one for five miles. He handed me the office remote phone from his desk and told me to use it and bring it back when I was done.

This fellow had to share DNA with the psycho guy. I knew he was going to tear up my check, kill me in my sleep and steal all the Christmas presents to the in-laws that were stored behind the seat of our pickup truck. He disappeared back into the land behind the curtain and I made the call to one of the kids and figured it was the last time I'd ever hear his voice.

After we watched Switch Back which made Psycho look kind of tame, Mr. B went to sleep and snored all night while I paced the floor waiting to hear the key in the door and the shadow of a knife on the wall. Sometime after midnight I heard the shower running through the wall. I figured if I could hear him over there in his bathroom then he could hear me. So I made a plan. Every thirty minutes I flushed the potty to let him know I wasn't going down without a fight.

My eyes grew heavy so I propped the desk chair against the bathroom door and turned the light on and found the Bible in the nightstand drawer. I got real acquainted with the book of Exodus that night. At five thirty I woke Mr. B and we drove away in a dense fog. When the sun finally came out I drug out the map to see just how big the town was where the motel was located with the killer motel. Never again would we stay there but there was no town, not even one of those pin dots that says that town has less than one hundred people. Zilch. Nada. Nothing. The town did not exist.

Scary music, the kind that raises the hair on your neck, started playing in my head. For the first time in my life I gave thanks for Mr. B's snoring and a potty that flushed every time. The killer probably thought we had a pet bear with a bad case of intestinal flu in the room with us and that's all that saved us for disappearing off the face of the earth forever.

Happy Mother's Day...

A few years ago a friend asked me to go to lunch and as we were sitting across from each other in a little café, she asked me if I thought she would pass the test for motherhood. There she sat in a cute little pink suit with white lapels and high heeled shoes, her hair done up all pretty and makeup flawless. I already had three kids. I was just lucky to have on an outfit that didn't have baby spit up or muddy hand prints on it.

"How well do you like those white lapels?" I asked her.

"What's that got to do with being a mother?" She fired right back.

"Everything," I said. "Let me think about this test for a few days and we'll meet at the park in a week."

After consulting with other mothers, we came up the motherhood questions. The following is for all the folks out there who are dressing in their cute little suits with white lapels or (shudder) maybe even a white sundress this Mother's Day morning.

Mess Test: Smear peanut butter on the sofa and curtains and write on all the walls with a magic marker. If you have an allergy to peanuts, ketchup works just as well. Place a fish stick behind the couch and leave it there all summer. If you pass this test you may go on to the next one.

Toy Test: Buy a 55 gallon drum of Legos. If Legos are not available, you may substitute roofing tacks, or even jacks (those little six sided things that come with a ball). Have a friend spread them all over the house, making sure some of them are partially hidden in the carpet. Turn out all the lights in the whole house and put on a blindfold. Try walking crosslegged to the bathroom or to the kitchen at midnight. Do not scream, cuss or cry. (This could wake up the husband!) Congratulations, you get a certificate for this one and you can go on to the next test.

Grocery Store Test: Borrow one or two small animals. Goats work really well. Take them to the grocery store with you. Always keep them in sight and have extra money to pay for anything they eat or damage. You are to be commended with a medal to hang around your neck if you pass this one.

Dressing Test: Rent one large, angry octopus. Stuff it into a small net bag making sure that all its arms stay inside the bag. You have ten minutes to get the job done or you will fail this test.

Feeding Test: Dump all the milk from a large plastic jug. Fill it halfway with water. Suspend from the ceiling with a stout cord. Start the jug swinging back and forth. Now try to insert spoons full of soggy cereal, such as lumpy cream of wheat or lumpy oatmeal into the mouth of the jug, while making airplane noises. Ten minutes into the game you will dump what's left of the cereal plus whatever is in the jug on the floor. You may not cuss, scream or raise your voice as you clean up the mess. If you do not upchuck you get a gold star.

Night Test: Make a small, oblong cloth bag and fill it with 8-12 pounds of sand. Soak that in water for one  hour. At 8:00 p.m. start waltzing around the living room with the bag of sand held firmly in one arm for one hour. Lay your bag down and and go to bed at 10 p.m. Get up at 10:02, pick up the bag, sit down in a rocking chair and start rocking. Sing every song you've ever known. Make up a dozen more and sing those until 4 a.m. Lay the bag down and tip toe to the bedroom. Set the alarm for 5 a.m. Get up and make breakfast. Look cheerful and never complain about the dark circles under your eyes.

If you have passed all these tests, then it's time for the Physical Test: Buy a bean bag chair and rope it around your waist under your clothing. Leave it there for nine months. Remove ten beans and try on your pink suit with the white lapels.

Final Assignment: Visit your friends who have already passed all the tests and have a small child. Lecture them on how to improve their parenting skills, especially in the areas of discipline, tolerance, toilet training and table manners. Enjoy this experience. It will be the last time you ever have all the answers.

Here's hoping you pass all the tests and next year you will have stars in your eyes as you celebrate your first Mothers Day ... and that you sold that pink suit with the white lapels at the county wide garage sale!