82 books like Big Bad Cowboy

I wanna live in Janus Lake, and you will too when you read Barbara Kellyn’s Forever Endeavor. She’s my favorite romantic comedy author. Forever Endeavor is funny, charming, and a little angsty. When Billie and Sonny meet, the sparks fly, but so do the quips. Ms. Kellyn is the Queen of Witty Banter. She’ll have you laughing out loud and blushing so hard, you’ll definitely want to move to her small, fictional Midwest town. And her secondary characters fill the pages full of small-town gossip and community. What more could you want from a rom com?

Pippa is so down on her luck, she can’t see up. What better way to turn it all around than to return to the small western town of Cabrillo where she and her sisters were happy when they were little girls. Unfortunately, the house her aunt left her seems to have been claimed by the grumpy cowboy next door, who’s aptly named Bear. Attraction grows while Pippa and Bear try to come to an agreement about the house. Their families have something to say about it, though, and therein lies the conflict. With her descriptive writing, Ms. Turner has the ability to take me home, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

This book broke me! Eli, a big, silent cowboy, and Abigail, a determined ranch owner come together in this book in explosive ways. The steam knocked my socks off, and I could picture the dusty ranch and barn set in Deep River, Montana so easily from the author’s descriptions. The love story is intense, filled with angst and a little bit of kink. Breaking Him is a book I will remember for a long time to come.

Stetson and Jennifer = Grumpy and Sunshine. There’s a forced proximity vibe but this small town ain’t big enough for the both of them! This book has laughs, a feisty housekeeper who puts grumpy Stetson in his place, and the descriptions of Long Valley are beautiful. It’s the first in a multi-book series with more than one spin-off series, so when you finish Accounting for Love, you’ll have plenty more to read from Long Valley.

A richly illustrated presentation of a foundational figure, Olmsted believed that parks were integral to physical and mental health and he designed the park to give citizens immediate and visceral contact with nature. His genius was to meld art and psychology on functional lines to produce settings of extraordinary beauty. After his initial masterpiece, Central Park, his vision broadened as he planned his projects in a more comprehensive manner. Riverside, Illinois was an exemplary suburb that harmonized with nature, while Boston’s Emerald Necklace’s array of parks linked by greenways and pedestrian paths was a prototype park system and cultural statement. Its interconnected network of transcendental oases allowed escape from the strident, accelerated movement of a profit-propelled society. Like Henry David Thoreau sauntering through the Concord countryside, urban dwellers could move through the city to their own tune. A timeless vision, it is why Olmsted still inspires the good life of… show more.

Well, thank god this book exists. It fills a huge gap—Joseph Paxton, an English architect, gardener, and engineer, as well as a lover of orchids—was everywhere, doing everything, in the 19th century United Kingdom! He built London’s Crystal Palace (cementing it as the first and possibly most grand World’s Fair in history) as well as directed all activities at Chatsworth (home to one of the world’s largest orchid collections in its time). The book shows us once again that the rich and powerful were not in complete control of the subtropical orchid trade—it took visionaries like Paxton to make them grow successfully in cold locations. I loved getting to know Paxton, his environs, and his relationships with all the well-known horticulturists and botanists of his age.

It’s hard to find a good garden book that’s useful and yet gorgeous enough to keep on the coffee table. We found these two to be wildly true in The Art of Outdoor Living, which is stunning and aspirational, with full-page photos of outdoor spaces that have a dream-like quality.

We want to step into many of the book’s vignettes, from gravel courtyards to cozy fireplace pits to patios designed to perfection. Best of all, there are high to low tips, so while it reads aspirational, it also has an approachable quality to it, which makes us want to curl up with a cup of coffee by the outdoor fire pit we’re now suddenly dreaming up!

For me, this book is the best of the Vietnam War “aftermath” novels, books dealing with veterans’ post-war physical and psychological struggles. Winner of the 1987 National Book Award for fiction, this novel, according to the author in our 2005 interview, was written to “get the hair up on the back of your [reader’s] neck.” Haunting, as well as times cynical, ironic, and brutally graphic, the author accomplishes his goal. Heinemann deftly portrays Army veteran Paco Sullivan’s cross-country odyssey, via interstate buses, in search of both spiritual and physical homes. This interstate nomad is a tragic character—mysterious and complex. At the end of this thought-provoking and uncomfortable novel, I am left with an unresolved question: is Paco a sympathetic victim of the war and America’s indifference to veterans or an active agent in his own physical and psychological turmoil? 

Shames’s fiction should be better known.

This book wasn’t what I expected, given its set-up in a small west Texas town filled with testosterone-laced popular imagery of today—a fundamentalist cult smelling of illicit sex, anti-feminism, and gun show economics; bored adults insanely consumed by high-school football rivalries; a chain-rattling motorcycle crowd; and far too many sour, flag-waving vets.

Take your pick about important themes to follow in this well-crafted cozy featuring Sam Craddock. Sam is asked to stand in as policeman while the one local cop dries out. He’s cranky, flawed but likable, persistent, competent.

The puzzle mysteries are tricky enough to be interesting, no overwhelming thriller-type fight scenes or chases. I thoroughly enjoyed this surprisingly gentle read. 

I loved this book because it fearlessly profiles a certain type of hypocrisy in our culture through the experiences of Billy Lynn and his fellow soldiers of the Bravo Squad. They’re reluctant war heroes on an unwanted victory tour stop at a Dallas Cowboys game. I identified with Billy as an everyman with a challenging background. I felt it was a powerful juxtaposition of the price we ask some to pay to support our way of life that is cluttered with banality.

I could feel his pain and grief over the losses he’s experienced, and I wanted him to be cared for with empathy and understanding. Instead, I was repulsed by what our culture has to offer; using Billy and his fellow soldiers as props to celebrate ourselves.