New Book Release: Dear Banjo by Sasha Wasley

About the Book
They were best friends
who were never meant to fall in love – but for one of them, it was already way
too late.
Willow ‘Banjo’ Paterson and Tom Forrest were raised on
neighbouring cattle stations in the heart of the Kimberley. As young adults,
sharing the same life dreams, something came between them that Willow cannot
forget. Now ten years have passed since she’s even spoken to Tom.
When her father falls ill, Willow is called home to take
over the running of the family property, Paterson Downs. Her vision for a
sustainable, organic cattle station is proving hard to achieve. She needs Tom’s
help, but is it too late, and all too complicated, to make amends?
Tom’s heartfelt, decade-old letters remain unopened and
unmentioned between them, and Willow must find the courage to finally read
them. Their tattered pages reveal a love story like no other – and one you’ll
never forget.
Dear Banjo is a
wildly romantic and utterly captivating story about first love and second
chances from an exciting new Australian author.

Participating Blogs


Dear Banjo is
now available worldwide in paperback and e-book editions. Some purchase links
are below or search your favourite outlet.
·        
Booktopia (Aus & NZ, $6.95
postage) –
http://www.booktopia.com.au/dear-banjo-sasha-wasley/prod9780143784524.html
·        
Book Depository (international,
free postage) –
https://www.bookdepository.com/Dear-Banjo-Sash-Wasley/9780143784524
·        
Amazon Kindle – https://www.amazon.com/d/B06XKGW9YT/
·        
Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/au/en/ebook/dear-banjo-1

Sasha Wasley was
born and raised in Perth, Western Australia.
She has completed a
PhD in cultural theory and loves nature, Jane Austen and puns.
Sasha is a farming
wannabe, with a passion for animals and the land. Although she’s in her forties
now, she still wants a pony.
Her debut novel, a
young adult paranormal, was published in 2014. Today, she lives and writes in
the Swan Valley wine region with her partner and two daughters, surrounded by
dogs, cats and chickens.
Sasha writes
mystery, paranormal and young adult novels as S.D. Wasley. 
Follow Sasha

·        
Website: https://sashawasley.com/books/
·        
FB Author Page URL: http://www.facebook.com/sdwasley
·        
Twitter URL: http://www.twitter.com/sdwasleyauthor
·        
Instagram: https://instagram.com/sdwasley_author/
International Giveaway
To celebrate the release of Dear Banjo, Sasha is giving away some
super-cute cattle-related prizes, including an udderley adorable mug and an
adult colouring book all about cows.
Excerpt from
Chapter 1
Somehow she managed to pack up the
entire apartment overnight. On the way to the airport the next morning, Willow
got the taxi driver to drop in at Tanya’s place. Her friend was still in her
pyjamas when Willow gave her the keys to her apartment and a couple of hundred
dollars. Tanya tried to refuse the money but Willow pushed it into her hand.
‘No, Tan, I’ve booked professional
cleaners and I need you to pay them for me. Keep whatever’s left over as a
thanks. And could you possibly go in and get rid of the boxes I’ve left behind?
You can have anything from them or just donate it all to charity. And then if
you could just drop the keys off to the real estate agent, I’ll be grateful
forever.’
Tanya nodded and her eyes went a
little glassy. ‘You’re really going, aren’t you? For good, I mean.’
‘Yeah. Going home at last. I can’t
believe I stayed in the city this long.’
Tears spilled down Tanya’s cheeks.
‘I’m going to miss you.’
‘Oh, Tan. You should come visit.’
Willow hugged her. ‘I’ll stay in touch.’
‘It’s not the same,’ Tanya sobbed.
‘I’ll call you in a couple of
days, okay?’
Tanya nodded and gave her another
tearful hug before letting Willow leave.
Jeez, Willow thought as she ran back to the taxi. Shows of emotion had
never been her thing. Okay, she was moving a couple of thousand kilometres
away, and she’d miss seeing Tanya at work, but surely it wasn’t worth crying
over.
A memory of her sessions with a
psychologist surfaced. Willow, you tend to hold people at arm’s length. Why
don’t you try letting people in a little more?
Willow snapped her attention
back to the present, logging into the power company’s website on her phone to
cancel her account.
She checked in for her flight and
paid an exorbitant amount for her excess baggage before watching it glide away
on the conveyer belt – the sum total of her adult life in two large suitcases. No,
she remembered. 3700 square kilometres, 6500 head of cattle, a ground­breaking,
humane, organic beef operation. That would be the sum total of her adult
life.
She settled into her seat and
thanked the heavens she’d been placed next to a young fly-in-fly-out type,
probably contracted to the Herne River catchment project. He was already
plugged into his tablet and watching a show involving zombies, so she wouldn’t
have to talk to anyone during the flight. She wanted to write a to-do list. As
soon as they were in the air she reached into her bag for a note­pad and her
hand met something unfamiliar. Not her notepad.
Tom’s
letters.
Willow considered them, her heart
rate bumping up all over again. Wouldn’t it almost be an invasion of Tom’s
privacy to read them now, so long after he’d intended her to? Maybe those
sleeping dogs should just be left to lie?
Yes, she would bin them all – drop
them into the roving rubbish bag the next time the steward came around.
But she would be living next door
to the Forrests again once she got home. By now, Tom would soon be taking over
Quintilla, just as she was about to do with Paterson Downs. Their families were
as close as ever. She’d need to resume some kind of relationship with Tom
Forrest, no matter how difficult the initial patching up phase would be.
Maybe she could use this three-hour flight from Perth to Mount Clair
to read all of Tom’s letters at last. She hadn’t even given the poor guy a
chance after looking at the first couple. She’d been so absorbed in her own
pain; grappling with the panic she felt every time she thought about what he’d
done. Perhaps there had been
an apology in one of those letters – an apology she should have
acknowledged by now. A retraction of that awful moment when he’d said those
words . . .
Tom’s handwriting was scrawled across the front of the topmost
envelope – always familiar, no matter how long it had been. Willow took a shaky
breath. Seven-thirty in the morning was a little early for a stiff drink, so
she requested a coffee and pulled out the first two letters; the ones she’d
opened and read ten years earlier.
Dear
Banjo,
Happy New Year. I guess you’re settled
in at the student hall by now. You sure went early. The other kids who got in
aren’t leaving until February. I don’t know where you’re staying so I asked
Beth to send this on to you. You might have heard I’m probably not going to
take up my offer of a place at uni. I’m thinking I’ll defer my course – for
now, anyway. Dad’s not fazed. He won’t have to hire extra help this way, not to
mention the savings on the tuition fees. Mum’s not overly happy but I keep
telling her it’s only for the year. She asks a lot of questions. Not really
sure what else to say to you, Banjo. It’s weird without you. Whenever I’m on
the quad I turn towards Patersons before I remember you’re not there any more.
I keep thinking I’ll see you at the eastern gate, sitting on Rusty, ready for a
fenceline race. You knew I’d always beat you but you’d have a go anyway. So,
yep. Really weird. You’ve always just been there. I guess it doesn’t quite
compute yet. Take care of yourself in the big city, okay?
Tom
P.S. We should probably try to sort
this mess out.


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