If you’re a country gal at heart, you’ll enjoy these sweet stories of old-fashioned, hard working men and the ladies they are trying to keep in line.

Within these pages, you will find girls riding bulls, a Country Music Awards performance, and a horse thief! Come see what other sort of devilment these country girls get up to.

Publisher’s Note: Sweet, clean short story collection containing the discipline of adult women. If this offends you, please do not purchase.

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Author Interview

Jodi Bella

So, this book is of short stories featuring cowboys and other country types. The Western genre is a popular one. Why do you think that is? 

Well, I think the American Cowboy is an iconic thing. It’s certainly been romantized in tv and film. He’s a good man, a hard working guy, a no-nonsense type, and often he doesn’t put up with much. There’s much to drool over when it comes to cowboys… the laid back drawl in their voice, the muscles from hard work, their appreciation of the simple things in life, the way they tend to fill out their Wrangler blue jeans… Plus, cowboy boots and hats… sigh. It’s the stuff of daydreams and fantasies.

Do you have any favorite authors of Western romance?

I am a long time fan of Linda Lael Miller and Susan Elizabeth Phillips, both of whom have written many historical and modern day novels with cowboy-type heroes.

Do you listen to music when you write? Did you play country music when writing these stories?

I don’t typically listen to music when writing, although I do love music in all forms. I did sort of tap myself out on country music in the late 90s, it was basically all I listened to for about 5 years or so; recently I’ve been hearing some new country songs through a friend and I’ve been enjoying the genre again.

If you had to put together a soundtrack for this book, what are some of the songs you’d put into it?

Hmmm… well, it would need a country music theme, that’s for sure. How about Firecracker by Josh Turner for starters? Definately Stay A Little Longer by Brothers Osborne, because they are the band that’s recently been reawakening my country music love. Shut Up and Kiss Me by Mary Chapin Carpenter. Maybe Wild One by Faith Hill. Little Moments by Brad Paisley. And just because I love it so much — Boondocks by Little Big Town.

Do you have a favorite Western movie or cowboy-type artist, whether from music or movies, etc?

I love McLintock with John Wayne, of course. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Cold Mountain. Also I loved Slow West, although there’s not much of a romance in the story line; there is Michael Fassbender though! In my opinion, you can’t go wrong with that!

As for cowboy type artists… how about Matthew McConaughey… he has the drawl done pat, at least. Lucas Black from NCIS New Orleans too. As for musicians, Eric Church and Tim McGraw hit the spot for me.



“Let me tell you something, Rose Kelly,” he ground out between clenched teeth as he punctuated his words with rough cracks of his palm. “There is nothing, God help me, more that I would rather do than go running off with you on this little escape of yours. I would love to run away from my responsibilities here, if only my conscience would let me. But, I can’t. I have to stay here and face the scariest damned task of my life, by keeping this ranch floating and seeing Katie and Robert grow up. If I could change the stars and bring my mother back, so I could just go off with you, I would! Hell, if I could do that, I’d bring my dad back, too, so I wouldn’t be the only one in the family with memories of him left. And, I’d bring your parents back, so you wouldn’t have had to grow up under your grandfather’s roof. But, I can’t do any of that stuff. I can only deal with what’s been put on my plate, here and now. Do you get that, Rose?”

It was then, as he paused in his task as well as his lecture, that Kenny first realized Rose was crying. Sobbing, really.

“I’m sorry!” she sniveled, clutching his knee with her free hand. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean what I said to you. You’re right. God, I’m so sorry, Kenny.”

He let her up then, helping her stand with an arm under her elbow. She scrambled rapidly to pull up her bikini bottoms, her face as red as her bottom was. She stood in front of him, agape, holding both of her bottom cheeks, one in each of her hands. Tears continued to course down her face as she stood there, staring up at him with an indiscernible mixture of emotions on her face.

Kenny was suddenly glad that he’d gone for his swim in cutoff jeans instead of swim trunks. He felt the rigid erection bulging in his pants and hoped that Rose didn’t see it and hadn’t felt it while she’d been over his lap.

He took a step closer to her, drawn by the look she was giving him, by his own emotions from the past few days, and by the simple fact that if he didn’t kiss her now, he might never get the chance again.

He cupped one side of her face with the same hand that had delivered the fiercest swats to her backside, gentle now. His thumb traced her bottom lip just once and he would have sworn she trembled. Hesitantly, he lowered his head and sipped once, then twice, at her pouty pink lips, drawing in her sharply exhaled breath and tasting the sweetness of it.

The kiss deepened, and Kenny swallowed a moan when her small pink tongue met his in shy welcome. He threaded one hand through her long dark tresses and took her weight with a small smile when he felt her lean into him.

When they broke apart, she looked dazedly up at him. Then, as he watched, her eyes filled with tears, and she pulled away. He watched her back grow rigid and, slowly, the fire returned to her eyes.

He never even saw the punch coming. One second, he was standing there in front of her, wondering how long this tirade was going to last and trying to figure out if he should put her over his knee again, and the next, he was flat on his back with a split upper lip, staring up at her.

And, in the next instant, she was gone. From his spot on the ground, Kenny heard the sound of the truck being fired up and briefly wondered if she planned to finish him off. As he slowly sat up, fingering his lip and watching his truck bounce across the ranch, he had to smile; after all, he was the one who’d taught Rose to throw a good punch. He supposed he had no one to blame but himself.