Brumby's Run by Bestseller @JenScoullar is a Snuggle Up Readathon Pick #romance #womensfiction #

Title: Brumby’s Run

Author: Jennifer Scoullar

Genre: Contemporary Romance/Women’s Fiction

Book Blurb:

How do you choose between a long-lost sister and the man who’s stolen your heart?

Set among the hauntingly beautiful ghost gums and wild horses of the high country, Brumby’s Run is a heartfelt, romantic novel about families and secrets, love and envy, and most especially the bonds of sisterhood.

Samantha Carmichael’s world is turned on its head when she learns that she’s adopted – and that she has a twin sister, Charlie, who is critically ill.

While Charlie recovers in hospital, Sam offers to look after Brumby’s Run, her sister’s home high in the Victorian Alps. Within days, city girl Sam finds herself breaking brumbies and running cattle with the help of handsome neighbour Drew Chandler, her sister’s erstwhile boyfriend.

A daunting challenge soon becomes a wholehearted tree change as Sam begins to fall in love with Brumby’s Run – and with Drew. But what will happen when Charlie returns to claim what is rightfully hers?



“Choose, Mrs. Kelly,” says the doctor. “The adoptive couple are here to collect the child.” He leans in close and lowers his voice. “They’re concerned there’s a problem.”

Well wasn’t there? If this didn’t count as a problem, then nothing ever would. Mary smiles at her sleeping twins. How to decide? There is no way, it’s Sophie’s Choice. She could play eeny, meeny, miny, mo? Or rock paper scissors with the doctor? He wins and Charlene might go. She wins, perhaps Samantha? The doctor puts on a sympathetic expression. “Of course, if you’ve changed your mind ...”

“No,” says Mary, with hoarse haste. “I haven’t.” It was going to be difficult enough raising a single baby. She plucks one, then the other of her dark-haired daughters from their shared crib and cradles them in her arms. She inspects their faces. All the clichés make sense to her now. They do have button noses, and rosebud mouths that purse now and then in sleep. They are utterly perfect, and she can’t choose. She can’t even tell them apart.

“Mrs Kelly.” Mrs Kelly. Why was he calling her that? There was no Mr Kelly. A sop to his own sense of propriety perhaps? “If you need more time, perhaps they can come back.”

No, that will prolong the agony. She just requires some sort of a sign, some indication of what to do next. The left-hand twin parts her lips in a delicate yawn. The room grows airless. With infinite care, Mary raises the baby that lies in the crook of her other arm, her right arm, and offers it to the doctor. “Are you sure,” he asks.

Of course she isn’t sure. There is no certainty anymore, and there never will be again. The world is a senseless place, filled with random acts of cruelty and prejudice, but she nods anyway. As he receives the right-hand baby from her, it yawns too. A misgiving, cold as death, stalls her heart. Dr Kapadia checks the infant’s wristband. She wills time to stretch. She counts the seconds it takes for him to cross the floor, to reach the door, to vanish with her baby. She consciously commits each detail of the scene to memory. Mary looks down at the single, sleeping baby in her arms. Is it Charlene or Samantha? What if she’s giving away the wrong child?


“I’ll rub him down myself,” said Sam.

Brodie gave her a lascivious look. “Sure you don’t want a hand?” He chewed on a piece of straw. It dangled limp from the corner of his fat lips. She slammed the stable door in his face, causing Pharaoh to start. Sam hung up the hay net, stuffed it full of his favourite lucerne, and kept some hay aside to mak