The Cowboy of Her Dreams

The premise of this story is interesting. Jenna Price is a cowgirl that was working on a ranch in the Midwest and supporting her little brother when the owner of the ranch fell ill. After his passing, the owner’s only son came to stake his claim and run the ranch in his father’s stead. The problem was that the heir in question is not a cowboy, but a Hollywood actor. The only ranching experience he has was learned at his daddy’s side when he was just a boy.

Kira Barcelo provided a fresh twist to the tried and true spanking cowboy theme by allowing the dominant male to be less experienced than the submissive cowgirl.  Most spanky stories paint a picture of a dominant male that is experience and knowledge personified.  Allowing the strong, dominant male to have a weakness gave “The Cowboy of Her Dreams” an edge. 

Jenna apparently had the opportunity to catch Stone in a few flicks and developed somewhat of a crush on the character actor. This facet of the story should have been developed further in my opinion. It was mentioned once rather briefly and then simply forgotten. The story could have gained some depth had Barcelo elaborated on this detail, especially since it was the inspiration for the title of the book.

Unfortunately, I’m not certain that would have saved this book. The fact remains that this story is not very well written. This is probably obvious from the excerpt below that highlights the first spanking as well as the synopsis provided above:

“So you’ve researched being a cowboy, have you?”

Much to her chagrin, her little dig failed to rile him. On the contrary, it seemed to sweeten his attitude.

“Well, obviously, experience is the best teacher,” he told her. “And I did do some work here when I was a kid, before I left for New York. It’s not like I’ve forgotten everything. I do need some refresher courses, though.”

“New York? I thought you left here and went straight to Hollywood.”

“Nah. I lived in New York for a couple of years. I worked in the theater—small productions, off-off-Broadway shows—and I had some small parts in TV shows that filmed in Manhattan. I did get to Hollywood, but it was when I got my first part in a film.”

“And as for this research: I guess that would include watching old cowboy movies, huh?” Jenna asked the question with a straight face, trying not to let on too much that she was teasing him.

Stone shrugged, pursing his lips. “I did watch some on the old movie channel and the western channel, before I came over here.”

“Well, so I guess that’s all it takes! Watch a little John Wayne, Gary Cooper in action, some Clint Eastwood for good measure. Then, hey, you’re ready to saddle up and get the job done…huh, boss?”

Jenna watched as he leaned up against the island, moving in closer to her. What was that people said about “personal space?” Hers was definitely being invaded by a tall, imposing cowboy-ish figure. Enough that she could feel that tremble going through her insides again. He was too close, too intimately close, and her body was certainly reacting to it.

Which was crazy, because he belonged to someone else. Getting all excited about his proximity was an out-and-out waste of her time.

“Hell, I don’t know about that,” he drawled.

“But I’ve watched enough of those cowboy movies to know they knew how to handle a naughty cowgirl who needed to be put in her place.”

She’d been slouching slightly but instinctively straightened up. Jenna glared back at him.

“That so?” If he thought she was going to back down to him, then that man had another guess coming to him. “So you think I need to be put into my place?”

“Oh, no. I wasn’t talking about you, Jenna.” Stone shook his head soberly. “My sisters have told me what a great job you’ve always done on this place, and I respect all your work and dedication. And now that I’m here, even though I haven’t always been here, you need to understand perfectly well that I’m the one in charge now…”

There were at least half dozen remarks she could have said that would have been sufficient to take him down a few pegs. Jenna stared back at him, keeping those comments to herself.

“And I would appreciate all your help and advice, as someone who has been here,” Stone went on. “I’m sure you learned from the best—my dad—”

“I did. Hewas a real cowboy. Not one that disappears when the next movie comes up.”

Which was what Stone would do. Wasn’t that the truth? She didn’t know for sure. She sure didn’t know Stone Farrell that well, though she’d told herself that she did, back when he was nothing more than a fantasy. His father had a hand in that, painting him in a much different light than the man who had shown up that week.

Tilting his head, Stone narrowed his eyes at her. “Is that what you think? That I’m going to run off the minute I get a call from my agent?”

“I think that’s a very good possibility, Stone Farrell. So excuse me if I find it a little hard to think of you as the boss. And excuse me for being so forward. We naughty cowgirls, you know…it’s easier for us to be honest than it is for us to kiss a make-believe cowboy’s butt.”

Over the past couple of years, Jenna had gotten better at taming her tongue. Melanie had told her it was something about learning to be tactful. Something that didn’t come easy to her, yet she did find it useful in keeping her out of trouble. Her mouth, her temper and her pride could make for one dangerous combination.

And, speakingof dangerous, Stone’s good nature evaporated just at the moment his eyes widened with disbelief in reaction to her words. Suddenly, she regretted having shot off her mouth like that.

Because he was going to fire her. She’d gone too far and he was going to fire her.

Instead, she found herself being spun around, then physically lifted off her feet. In a flash, Stone had her bent over the kitchen island, pinned in place by one of those big, strong arms wrapped around her waist.

“What—what are you doing?” she demanded. Now she was scared—and totally ticked off. It didn’t take her long to realize what was going on, nor for her face to flame with embarrassment. There she was, her feet dangling and kicking as she struggled to free herself, the seat of her jeans poised high in the air.

Stone said nothing. The reply to her question was delivered by the back of his hand with that first resounding smack thundering on her bottom. Startled, Jenna let out a cry before she realized any of the hands, or even Jake, could hear her if they happened to be standing outside.

“Stop! Don’t you dare do this!” she ordered, but to no avail.

Seven more spanks followed, each harder than the last. She had to hand it to him: For a would-be cowboy, he might not have known much about running a ranch, but he had the spanking down like a pro. Luckily, her jeans offered some protection, but not much. She grabbed hold of the island’s edge to steady herself, grimacing at the heat already generated in her behind from the spanking. More whacks followed, at least a dozen more, each harder and more painful than the last. Way beyond the point of being uncomfortable, her rear was completely smarting.

“Ohhhhh, I think you made your point!” she groaned.

The spanking seemed to have ended. She heard him asked, “Have I? Think I can get a little respect out of you, cowgirl?”

She gritted her teeth. He’d spanked her—he’d actually spanked her! Better be nice, she warned herself. He hadn’t yet let her back onto her feet and his other arm still held her in place, preparation for another wave of hide-tanning swats.

“Yes. Okay? Now can I please go?”

He’d probably never spanked his girlfriend, that Ashley person, but he’d spanked her. Part of her was infuriated at that thought. Then again, strangely, part of her wasn’t that upset over it. She didn’t know what to think of it, in all honesty. This whole odd episode—odd, because no one had ever spanked her before, and if anyone had told her that Stone Farrell would be the first, she wouldn’t have believed them—had her confused.

First things first, however: She needed to get her bottom out of harm’s way.

“Sure, Jenna. You can go. As long as you understand that I expect your respect…” His arm released her, right before his hands closed around her waist and brought her down, righting her onto her feet. “…And you understand that I’m the boss here, for however long I choose to be here.”

The spanking had left with a glowing throb in her bottom. It took all her will to refrain from reaching back there and soothing her seat with some good rubs. The playful glint was back in his eyes, and she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing the spanking had hurt. It was enough that she could barely look him in the eye, expecting him to break into a chuckle at any moment.

“You didn’t have to spank me to prove your point,” she said with a frown.

“I beg to differ. I think I did. And besides,that was just a little something I learned…” On his way out the door, he tossed her a smirk. “…from those great, old cowboy movies.”

 

In this case, the poor writing style simply detracts from the story. Each error interrupts the readers’ thoughts and causes them to lose the momentum the writer was trying to establish. For instance, my own thoughts were interrupted just when the spanking scene began because I just couldn’t reconcile a “thundering” or “resounding smack” on her bottom that was delivered by the “back of his hand.” They were interrupted again at the end of the spanking when “she heard him asked” if he could get a little respect out of her now. These sort of mistakes in a novel are hard to overcome.