THE COWBOY MEETS HIS MATCH - Margaret Brownley - One Free Book

Dear Readers, this week must be Margaret Brownley week, with two interviews with her. I loved reading The Cowboy Meets His Match. I haven’t read a Margaret Brownley book I didn’t love. This novel starts off with a bang—cattle stampede through town which causes enough confusion that several things happen by accident. A wonderful unique twist on a mail-order-bride story. The characters leapt into my heart, and the story is action-packed to the end. I didn’t want to let these characters go.

His first mistake was marrying her; His second was falling in love.

                                                                                    —The Cowboy Meets His Match.

Welcome back, Margaret. You have a lot of books out now. What is your favorite setting to use in your books?

Since I write westerns, I like to set my stories in Texas during the late 1800s. I especially like that time period because just about everything that’s going on today was going on then.

           

Sears was the Amazon of its day and taught America how to shop. The Victorians had their own Internet—the telegraph. Those early settlers blamed tornadoes and hurricanes on global warming and the 1894 Hong Kong plague became the third pandemic in the world. Today, people worry about being replaced by robots; Back then, it was machines that caused job worries.

           

I could go on and on about the similarities. Reading how people in the past survived and, yes, even prospered during tough times inspires me and gives me hope for the future. I hope it does the same to my readers.

Give us a little tour of the setting for this book.

The book takes place on a cattle ranch in Haywire, Texas. It’s the last place my Bostonian heroine expects to find herself. Talk about a fish out of water!

What other books do you have coming out soon?

The next book will be the last in the Haywire Bride series. The Outlaw’s Daughter will be out in May.

Please give us a glimpse inside your home.

My office is painted Monet purple, the color that’s thought to inspire, and the picture window faces the Santa Monica mountains where many of the old westerns were filmed. One room is dedicated to my library with more than 2000 books (bet you didn’t know there were that many books about the Old West).  Another room houses my very own gym. Whenever I get stuck on a book, I jump on the treadmill or stationary bike and keep going until problem solved.

Tell us about the story.

Chase McKnight will do anything to secure his family's ranch but marriage to a complete stranger? That's a hard pill to swallow. Yet the will is clear: Chase needs a wife by his side if he wants to keep his home, so he meets his veiled lady at the courthouse steps and reluctantly says "I do."

Too bad he married the wrong bride.

When Boston runaway Emily Rose agreed to marry a Texas stranger to escape her family's scandal, she wasn't prepared to get hitched to the wrong cowboy! Stuck in a secret compromise, she has one year to learn the ways of the ranch and convince Chase's family they're happily married. But when the lie becomes true, the past catches up to them, and they must save the love they never expected...

Please give us the first page of the book.

Haywire, Texas

1886

The moment Emily Rose stepped off the train, she knew she’d made a terrible mistake. It wasn’t just the heat pressing down on her like a thick, wet blanket. Nor the dust that clogged the throat and stung the eyes. It wasn’t even the relentless flies.

           

Rather, it was the feeling of dread that settled like a lead weight in the pit of her stomach. One look at the sorrowful excuse for a town, and the trouble she’d left back in Boston seemed like a tea party in comparison.

           

The dark-skinned driver set to work tossing her baggage into the rear of the hotel omnibus with reckless abandon.

           

“Oh, do be careful with that,” she cried, grabbing her bandbox out of his hand.

           

Shooting her an exasperated look, the driver reached for her carpetbag and hurled it into the compartment with the rest of her baggage. Since her belongings commanded all available space, the other passengers were forced to carry their travel gear on board.

           

One matronly woman glared at Emily, her beak-like nose flaring. “Some people have no consideration for others,” she grumbled, her voice loud enough to gain the attention of those still standing in line.

           

Emily apologized and offered to help the passenger with her valise, but the woman would have none of it. Instead, she made quite a show of lugging her single satchel up the steps of the omnibus, grunting and groaning and complaining like an old crow.

           

Emily disregarded the woman’s theatrics, but it was harder to ignore the curious stares directed at her stylish blue traveling suit. She had been so anxious to make her escape she’d not thought about clothes. The last thing she needed was to call attention to herself. Had she been thinking straight, she would have purchased something more sedate like a simple gingham or calico dress, though she doubted such a thing could have been found in all of Boston.

           

The same was true of the plain cloth bonnets locals seemed to favor. Her own felt hat, stylishly trimmed with feathers, now seemed hopelessly out of place.

           

Sidestepping a pile of horse manure, Emily boarded the omnibus, her bandbox in hand. She pulled a handkerchief out of her sleeve and wiped off the dusty leather seat before adjusting her bustle and sitting.

           

The driver took his seat and waited until the last of his passengers had boarded before shaking the reins and clicking his tongue. As if to protest the heavy load, the two roans snorted as they plodded forward, scattering more dust with their heavy hooves.

           

Emily fanned her heated face with the soiled handkerchief and gazed out the glassless window. Compared to Boston’s sturdy redbrick buildings, the adobe shops with the false fronts and rough-hewn signs looked like they could be blown away with one good gust of wind.

           

No cobblestones lined the thoroughfare. Instead, a bumpy dirt road wound through town, flanked by wooden sidewalks.

           

She looked for the drugstore owned by the man she’d traveled all this way to marry but didn’t see it. Instead, they passed a general store, a bank, a gunsmith, and a leather shop, but no ladies’ hat or dress emporiums. A sign reading Haywire Book and Sweet Shop gave her a flicker of hope. The selling of books suggested that maybe the town wasn’t as primitive as it appeared.

           

Emily reached into her purse and pulled out the dog-eared letter that had been carefully tucked inside. Unfolding it, she reread the simple instructions written in bold handwriting. She was told to check into the hotel. A driver would pick her up at four o’clock sharp and drive her to the courthouse. Her betrothed would meet her there to exchange vows.

           

She chewed her lower lip and forced herself to breathe. Never had she imagined herself a mail-order bride. But then neither had she dreamt she would be forced to leave Boston in shame, with hardly a penny to her name.

Her only hope was that her soon-to-be husband was as kind and caring in person as he appeared to be in his letters.

           

She checked her pendant watch, grateful that she’d remembered to adjust it to local time at the train station.

           

The omnibus turned onto a bewildering series of winding, pretzel-like streets before pulling up the drive leading to the Haywire Grande Hotel. Judging by the weathered facade, the only thing grand about the hotel was its size.

           

Emily’s stomach knotted. Whatever fate had in store for her couldn’t be any worse than what she’d left behind. While the thought did nothing to lift her spirits, it did help calm her pounding heart. Refolding the letter, she returned it to her purse. Moments later, she stood in the blazing sun and waited for the driver to unload her luggage.

           

“Will that be all, ma’am?” he asked. His sudden politeness could only mean he expected a generous gratuity.

           

“Yes, thank you.” She handed him twice the number of coins she normally would, more out of guilt for commanding so much space than gratitude.

           

While a bellhop arranged her luggage onto a wooden handcart, she glanced again at her watch. In just two hours, she would be married to a man she had never set eyes on—a total stranger.

           

Now that she’d seen the town, it seemed that she was about to exchange one prison for another.

How can readers find you on the Internet?

Website: margaret-brownley.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MargaretBrownleyAuthor/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/margaretbrownly

Book Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Cowboy-Meets-Match-Haywire-Brides/dp/1492658375/ref=tmm_mmp_title_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/cowboy-meets-his-match-margaret-brownley/1129309834?ean=9781492658375

Thank you, Margaret, for sharing this new book with my blog readers and me. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it, and I know my readers will, too.

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