It’s release day for Cherry Season by Trish Morey.
There’s a signed paperback giveaway of Trish’s book Stone Castles too!

(GIVEAWAY NOW ENDED.)

Plus, there’s an extract of Cherry Season to read below, but first - the back cover blurb …

Dan Faraday is too busy for love. With the long hours running the family orchard, he doesn’t have time to go on dates, and if he did, he would be looking for someone who fits into his ten-year plan. Someone traditional, reliable and dependable – someone just like him.

Someone the total opposite of beautiful drifter Lucy Marino. A free spirit who chases the moment, she’s in town for the fruit picking season. The only permanent certain thing in her life is constant change and while she’s tempted to see how cute Dan might be if only he smiled, she’s not the type of girl to wait around.

But as the cherry trees blossom, Lucy and Dan are increasingly drawn to one another. In spite of their differences, each begins to wonder if maybe they have a future after all.

With the weight of Dan’s family’s legacy on his shoulders and Lucy afraid of losing the only life she’s ever known, can Dan give Lucy a reason to put down roots before the seasons change?

Over to Trish…

Among other things, Cherry Season is a story of polar opposites attracting and in a big way. Dan Faraday doesn’t know what hits him when Lucy Marino collides into his life - except that she’s everything he doesn’t want in a wife, though annoyingly so many things that he wants in a woman.

Dan and Lucy meet, as so often lovers do, in unplanned circumstances. Dan, our cherry orchardist, has taken out in his late father’s pride and joy, a 1969 Triumph Spitfire, to pick up his niece, Siena, from a birthday party. Siena’s left her party balloon behind when Dan dropped her off. Now he’s gone to buy fuel before heading home.

Extract from Cherry Season by Trish Morey

He was filling up the tank when horns started blaring across the road, and straight away he could see why. A truck had pulled over and a line of traffic was caught queued across the intersection behind it. Stupid place to stop, he thought, and went back to watching the numbers spinning around on the bowser until the truck’s engines revved and he turned back to see the bearded driver waving to the traffic behind, his beefy arm covered in ink, as the big beast lurched into motion and rolled away, leaving a figure standing there.

A blonde girl in jeans and a singlet top was juggling a pack that looked almost as big as her. She lifted a hand in the direction of the disappearing truck before turning back towards the intersection.

A hitchhiker. Well, that explained a lot.

The bowser clicked off and he pulled out the nozzle before screwing the cap shut, wincing when he saw how much was about to be added to his account. There were all kinds of reasons this cherry season had better be the bumper crop it was shaping up to be. At least a dozen creditors were banking on it. Still, the Spitfire didn’t get out of the shed much these days, so he might as well go for broke. He popped her bonnet to check the oil and water. At least the water was free.

***
Straight up Magill Road, Mick had said, and up into the hills at the end, and Lucy would soon come upon the orchards where she was sure to find work. That was fine, but it was getting on for seven o’clock now so maybe the hunt for work could start
tomorrow. Assuming there was somewhere cheap and close at hand where she could find a backpacker’s or youth hostel.

She pushed the walk button on the pedestrian crossing. Someone at the gas station on the other side of the road would probably know.

The road was hot beneath her sandals when the signal changed to walk, the late afternoon sun warm on her shoulders, and already it felt different to Melbourne, the air drier. It reminded her of the desert air of California and the summer coastline of Italy, or the air of a sunny village market in Crete.

She liked it. She liked the view too. A few miles still up the road, the Adelaide Hills rose from the plains, a band of sun-browned land dotted with the dull green of gum trees.

She didn’t mind the view as she crossed the gas station’s forecourt either. There was a cute little red convertible with shiny chrome bumpers with its top down and its hood up, the owner leaning down low over his engine the way guys do so that women might notice them. And then he straightened, pulling out a dipstick to examine it. So okay, maybe this guy had another reason to lean over the engine, but it was hard not to take notice of denim pulled tight over a butt like his did. There was something about long legs, lean hips and well fitting denim that never got old. Such a shame it was rude to stare. She peeled her eyes away and waited while a car slipped out of a filling bay before her, and then headed towards the shop.

A sign in red on the sliding door read No helmets, No bags, so she let her pack slide to the floor and propped it up just inside the door before heading to the fridge for a soda.

***
Dan lowered the bonnet and clipped down each side before wiping his hands and heading in to pay. He glanced back over his shoulder to check the number of the bowser and sighed when he saw Siena’s bloody balloon still grinning in the back parcel shelf, and almost tripped over a bag someone had left just inside the door. ‘Stupid damned place to leave a bag,’ he muttered, before checking out the freezer section for something to have for dinner and finding a likely looking box before he joined the queue. The queue that wasn’t moving. Which is when he looked around the people in front of him to see what the hold-up was and realised hitchhiker girl must have crossed the road, because that sure looked like her, three places ahead of him and right at the front of the queue. He nodded to himself. That would explain the bag near the doorway too.

Figured. She had a can of Coke up on the counter and was chatting to the young kid who was serving, as if she had all the time in the world.

And given he was smiling and completely oblivious to the growing queue behind her, she clearly did.

The kid looked smitten. Maybe it was the blonde hair she wore tied up in some kind of messy knot that had ends going every which way, or maybe it was her accent. From what he could hear, she sounded American or Canadian – he always got those two mixed up – but then the attendant wasn’t the only one interested.

The guy behind her was chipping in and suddenly there was a three way conversation going and she turned her head over her shoulder to him and Dan caught a look at her profile closer up and thought – okay, not just blonde then, but blonde and seriously pretty. With those blue eyes and that killer smile, no wonder the attendant was in no hurry to see the back of her. A pity about the stud glinting in the crease of her nose and the ink on her shoulder. The guy in front of him shuffled impatiently as he looked at his watch and Dan got a better look at her shoulder. A bird in flight. Okay, so it wasn’t a skull, but that didn’t make him like it any more. He turned his attention back to the box of curry and studied the directions. He’d never seen the point of tattoos. Thank God his sisters had never done anything dumb like that.

And he remembered his wifely wish list and added two more things to his list.

No random piercings.

And definitely no tattoos.

Poor Dan. I suspect his wifely wish list is in for a bit of a makeover :-)) Is your own personal romance a story of opposites attracting, or was it a case of love at first sight- or something else? One lucky Australian responder will win a free copy of Stone Castles, my first Pan Macmillan release.

Happy Cherry Season!

Trish x

Cherry Season is available in eBook and paperback from all good retailers.
BUY NOW
Booktopia
Amazon Australia
iBooks
Kobo

 

Read more about USA Bestselling Trish and her books on MEET TRISH MOREY

Go into the draw to WIN a paperback copy of Stone Castles.

Simply answer Trish’s question:
Is your own personal romance a story of opposites attracting, or was it a case of love at first sight- or something else?

GIVEAWAY NOW ENDED and the winner is: Julia Reynolds!
A big thank you from Trish and Australian Rural Romance for all these wonderful comments.
You’re support is appreciated.

 

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