Cowboys (and Cowgirls) Love My Biscuits! Here’s the Recipe

At least once a week, one of the family says, “Make us some biscuits, pleeeeeeze!” I can’t resist that sweet little pleeeeeze, so I get out the buttermilk and whip these up. It’s a simple recipe and the results are mouthwatering. Give it a try!


Southern Biscuits

~~this recipe makes 10 biscuits, so double it if you have a hungry bunch~~

2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour, plus more for kneading
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons butter, very cold
1 cup buttermilk

  1. Preheat your oven to 450°F (425°F if you have a convection oven.)
  2. Combine the dry ingredients in a bowl, or in the bowl of a food processor.
  3. Cut the butter into chunks and cut into the flour until it resembles coarse meal.
  4. If using a food processor, just pulse a few times until this consistency is achieved.
  5. Add the buttermilk and mix JUST until combined.
  6. If it appears on the dry side, add a bit more buttermilk. It should be very wet.
  7. Turn the dough out onto a floured board.
  8. Gently, gently PAT (do NOT roll with a rolling pin) the dough out until it’s about 1/2″ thick.
  9. Fold the dough 5 times.
  10. Gently press the dough down to 1 inch thick.
  11. Use a round cutter to cut into circles.
  12. Place the biscuits on a cookie sheet-if you like soft sides, put them touching each other.
  13. If you like “crusty” sides, put them about 1 inch apart.
  14. Bake for about 10-12 minutes-the biscuits will be a beautiful light golden brown on top and bottom.

So now you have my secret family recipe (which I think my sister-in-law found online somewhere) but these are great with soup, and warmed up the next morning they make great egg sandwiches. My favorite is a biscuit hot from the oven, spread with butter and dripping honey. I hope your cowboys and cowgirls enjoy these as much as mine do!

And now, I need to figure out a way to work these biscuits into a love scene in one of my books. Hmmm, honey, butter, biscuit. Any ideas for me?
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Navy SEAL + Texan = SExan!

Okay, so groan over that title. It’s terrible, I know. But it’s the first thing that popped into my mind, and what pops in has to come out or I’ll ‘xplode! And yes, I’m two.

Today’s the second day of release for an anthology I’m part of: SEALs of Winter. It’s doing really well on all the major ebook sites. It’s a superbundle you don’t want to miss. For now, it’s just $.99—but that price won’t last long. Pretty cover, huh?

Here are they buy links: Kindle | Nook | Kobo | iBooks


My story is pretty simple love story and it’s connected to my Lone Star Lovers series.

Rules of Engagement

Callie Murphy’s never been one to moon over a man. Fairytale romances don’t exist outside of books and she’s seen first-hand how transitory love can be after watching her mother fall in and out of marriage.

Derek Tilden hammered home that truth when he joined the Navy to become a SEAL—he was the boy who couldn’t wait to see the world and she was the girl ready to plant deep roots. Now he’s back and asking her to marry him one last time… 

Callie Murphy had never been one to moon over a man. Fairytale romances were best left to novels. After all, she’d seen first-hand how transitory love could be after watching her mother drift in and out of three marriages, only to be left disappointed when “true love” faded. However, the video Callie watched for the thousandth time stirred a wistfulness inside that left her feeling restless and thinking about what might have been.

Just the sight of that warm, steady gaze enveloped her in warmth. The deep timbre of his voice as he sang raised the fine hairs on her arms and caused her nipples to prickle, because she remembered that same voice murmuring in her ear in the darkness.

Knowing she’d never get his approval for security’s sake, she’d snuck this recording of their Skype session using a plug-in installed on her computer because she’d wanted something of him to linger after they’d said their goodbyes. This recording been made before their final breakup. Now, watching and listening to him was a form of self-torture. Wearing desert camouflage pants and a brown tee stretching across a well-muscled chest, his dark hair a little shaggy and his beard scruffy, he was all man. All complication. Those piercing blue eyes stared into the camera at her, steady and determined, and Callie couldn’t help the tears welling in her eyes.

Prickles of dismay swept over her as she imagined some other woman, someone not her, on the receiving end of one of his calls, being serenaded with that husky, smooth-as-silk voice. The last time he’d proposed, she’d been firm, making it clear she had no interest in leaving behind the life she’d built in Two Mule, Texas while he was set on a career in the Navy. Rightfully, he should have moved on. No one here in Two Mule would ever fault him. No one really understood why she kept refusing him, but then they hadn’t walked in her shoes through her childhood.

Her mother had followed that “broken road,” uprooting Callie three times, from the friends she’d made, from the roots she’d tried so desperately to sink deep into every place she’d lived. She’d never make that same mistake. Love faded, turned bitter and dark. When love ended, good people drifted apart, or worse, struck out at each other. She’d lived it, first-hand.

So when Derek had stood on her doorstep that last day before heading back to Little Creek, where no doubt his team would be deployed on more dangerous secret missions in the Middle East, Africa, or whatever foreign hellhole the powers that be scrambled a SEAL team for, she’d shut the door on everything he’d offered, despite the fact he’d been sincere—and despite the fact her own heart had twisted inside her chest at the disappointment darkening his eyes.

Watching the video now, him seated on a narrow cot strumming a guitar while he sang about roads leading him straight to some other woman, Callie couldn’t help sniffling. He’d known even before that last proposal that she’d say no. And yet, here he’d been, reaching out to her, letting her see inside his heart as he strummed out his pain.

Watching him as he’d given her a smile, and then sat back to pull his guitar across his legs, she remembered everything she’d felt—nostalgia for their long-shared past, irritation he’d never give up, and joy, deep inside, that his love had never waned, because she was selfish like that. Although she’d been unwilling to hitch her star along with his, she’d depended on his love.

She’d met him in high school, and they’d dated steadily. They’d even been one of the shining couples of the royal court at homecoming. At that time, she’d been carried away, in love, forgetting the hard lessons she’d learned, because he’d been so attentive, so affectionate, bringing her flowers on every monthly anniversary, giving her a tiny diamond promise ring in their senior year.

They’d talked about the future, but only in vague terms, her in terms of the house she’d have and the kids she’d want, him of all the places he wanted to see. One day, close to graduation, he’d arrived at her mother’s house to tell her he’d signed enlistment papers and would be heading to Coronado, California for Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training as soon as he graduated, and her world had come tumbling down.

She knew enough from listening to him talk to his friends about Navy SEALs to realize what he intended to become would put him in incredible danger. “How could you do that?” she cried, slapping his chest.

Derek reached out his hands, but she dodged backward. He’d stood, brows drawn down into a wrinkle and scratched his chin. “I thought you’d be happy. You know I don’t want to go to college, but this could mean everything to us. We’ll travel—”

You’ll travel. I’d be stuck in the desert in California or on the East coast while you…” Her voice broke, causing her to pause and suck in a deep breath. When she had herself back under control, she leveled a narrow-eyed stare on him. “Have I ever once said I wanted to travel?”

His dark brows furrowed in a deep frown. “Well, yeah, you dream about goin’ to Paris.”

For a week.” She glared, all her anger there for him to see. “How could you do this to me?”

His mouth firmed, and his expression closed. All the sparkle in his blue eyes dimmed. After that, the last days of high school had been a misery because he’d barely spoken to her.

Which only reinforced what she’d always known. Love never lasted. And his love of adventure was stronger than anything he felt for her.

Still, they hadn’t been able to completely break their bonds. Their mutual attraction was just too strong. They’d entered another phase of their relationship and seen each other off and on over the ten years he’d been away, even going on a dates when he was in town, which they’d both enjoyed. She’d written letters and sent him care packages filled with homemade cookies when he’d complained about mess hall food. “Met” his buddies through their correspondence, telling her how much they enjoyed her cookies and through the Skyped conversations they loved to interrupt with friendly shoves and wide grins. She felt she knew them. After all, this on-again, off-again connection had been going on for a few years.

The last time Derek had leave, he’d been a constant fixture on her doorstep. But once again on the last day before he caught a plane back to Virginia, he’d asked her to think about marrying him.

“Callie, I love you, have loved you for so long,” he’d said, holding both her hands. “But we’re not kids anymore. We both deserve more. Marry me. You don’t have to see the world—be my world. The rest will all work out.”

She’d swayed toward him, mesmerized by the heat in his eyes, her body still humming from his lovemaking. But she’d shaken her head and slowly pulled away her hands. Maybe out of habit. She wasn’t sure, because dear God, that time she’d been tempted to say yes.

The moment she’d withdrawn, she’d seen his jaw tighten. He’d given her a small smile. “Baby, I can’t do this anymore,” he’d said, his voice raw. “I won’t bother you again.”

Seeing him turn to walk away filled her with panic, and her breath lodged painfully in her chest. “Derek, I’ll write.”

“Don’t,” he’d said over his shoulder, a hand dropping as though he were tossing something away.

That had been five months ago, and she still heard that single, bitter word repeat in her dreams. Now, it was too late for anything but regrets.

The doorbell rang, and she closed the screen just as Derek ended the song and stared one last time into the camera. She’d frozen that moment dozens of times to read his expression. There was a hint of a promise, a firmness in his jaw. He’d made up his mind about something. He’d known even then he was going to move on if she didn’t give him the answer he longed for. The song he’d chosen, Broken Road, had said it all.

What had he expected? She’d told him on a dozen different occasions that they had no future, because he was the boy who wanted to see the world and she was girl who wanted to plant deep roots. But at last, he’d taken her at her word.

The doorbell rang again. She glanced down and grimaced. Today was her day off, and she was still dressed in her pajamas and a tatty old robe. It being the first week of December, the morning air would hold a little frosty bite. But what did it matter?

“Coming,” she called out, pasting on a polite smile. When she swung open the door, Margie the mail lady was waiting there, a friendly grin on her broad face, which exposed a gap from a missing tooth. Something that always caught Callie’s eye. Hadn’t the woman ever heard of partials?

“I have a package for you. It was too big to put inside your mailbox.” She handed the box to Callie. “You got big plans this weekend?”

Holding the package against her chest, Callie snorted and hoped the other woman wouldn’t linger long on her stoop. “This is Two Mule. Unless I hit the lottery, it’s gonna be the same ole, same ole.”

Margie gave her a wink. “Well, maybe you’ll have a better weekend than you expect,” she said, her smile turning sly. “How’s that handsome boyfriend of yours doin’?”

“Not a clue.” Callie shook her head. “Derek and I broke up a while ago.”

The older woman sighed. “A damn shame that. He’s a good-lookin’ man.”

Callie’s smile was getting stiff, but at last, Margie waved and backed off the porch.

“Thanks for delivering this…” she called after the postal lady, “…whatever it is.” She closed the door, eyeing the return address. There wasn’t one.

After heading to the kitchen counter, she dug for scissors in a drawer, then slit the packing tape to open it. Inside was a large book, an album, she realized. She pulled it from the box and flipped the cover back, only to draw a deep, sharp breath. The first photo was of her and Derek at the prom, both looking so young and in love. She flipped more pages and realized this album was Derek’s, because every page was filled with pictures that chronicled his life—his time with her in high school, his years of training, each graduation, pictures of his friends looking dusty and tired, sitting in some tent or barracks, interspersed with more pictures of her—ones she’d sent of her life, ones he’d taken when they were together. The album spoke of a disjointed life, but one that included the things that were most important to him, her, and his new military family.

Callie burst into tears. It was all too much—the melancholy that had lingered ever since she’d watched the video—now this? Her heart broke into little pieces as moisture tracked down her cheeks and her nose began to run. She wanted to pitch the album into the nearest trash can so she didn’t have to look at it again, but she kept it open, held at arms’ length so her tears wouldn’t spot a glossy page. Why had he sent this to her?

The phone rang and she hiccupped, wiped her face with the back of one hand, and closed the album, slipping it under the seat of the sofa as she headed to the phone. With a sniff, she lifted the receiver to her ear.

“How are you doing today?”

Macy Pettigrew’s whisky-flavored voice had Callie straightening her shoulders. Her boss and best friend was the least sentimental woman she knew. She didn’t call employees or her friends to simply ask them whether they were well, so the fact Callie had been wallowing in self-pity wasn’t something she was prepared to share. Macy would only tsk and tell her to she’d made her bed—without Derek—and now was the time to pull up her big girl panties.

“Do you need me for something?” Callie asked nonchalantly, an effort that was spoiled by her breathless delivery.

“Do you need me? You sound upset.”

A frown drew her brows together. “Really?” she muttered. “Who is this? Did aliens steal my boss’s body?”

“Ha-ha. Your voice sounds funny. You gotta cold, hon?”

“Allergies,” Callie said, wiping her eyes one last time. “That why you called me? You worried I won’t be in to work on Monday?”

Macy chuckled. “Margie’s already been by your house. Said you looked a little down, and wondered if you were moonin’ over some fine man you kicked to the curb.”

Slumping against the nearest wall, Callie rolled her eyes. The gift of a small town was also its curse. The grapevine was short as hell. Had someone had seen her watching Derek on her computer? “Am I really so predictable?”

After a long pause, Macy cleared her throat. “Saw his mama yesterday in the grocery store. She says he’s comin’ home. Be here any day. You gonna see him?”

Derek’s coming home? Callie gripped the handset hard. No wonder Margie had been grinning. She must have known. “I already told you; we broke up the last time he came home. He hasn’t contacted me so I don’t know his plans.”

Macy cleared her throat. “Still, the fact he’s back so soon has to mean something.”

“Maybe he just misses his mom. The last time he left he made it clear we were done.” Callie closed her eyes against a new welling of tears.

A sigh drifted over the line. “You need a pick-me-up? We could meet at Shooters for drinks.”

“I don’t feel much like company.”

“Well, if you need a shoulder to cry on…”

“Thanks, Macy.” Callie let her gaze stray to the computer monitor where Derek’s stare seemed to meet hers across the distance. “Macy, did I make a mistake?”

“I can’t tell you that, hon. You had your reasons. Sorry-assed ones, if you ask me. But Derek’s always known what’s important to you. And he knows you don’t trust easy. If he got tired of tryin’ to prove to you that you can trust him, can’t say as I blame him.”

Why did hearing her perfectly legitimate reasons for saying ‘no’ make her decision sound stupid? Callie sniffed. “Sure you don’t need me this weekend?”

“No properties to show. Stay home. Get stinkin’ drunk if you have to. He will show up in town, and you need to be ready.”

After Callie hung up, she glanced down at her ratty robe. She’d had her cry. And Macy knew she wasn’t much of a drinker, but Callie got her point. She’d spend the weekend memorizing Derek’s photo album and pouring through memories—one last time before she delivered it to his mother and moved on. Had he sent her the pictures as his way of purging her from his past? Derek was lost to her. She’d been the one to let him go, and she had no one but herself to blame for that choice.

The doorbell rang again, and she rolled her eyes. If her mother was standing on her step, ready to tell her to go after her man seein’ as he was coming home…

She opened the door. Sunlight blinded her but outlined the tall frame of the man waiting on her porch. Not that she needed to see his features to know who he was. Broad shoulders seemed to span the doorframe. A taut abdomen and narrow hips drew her hungry glance. He wore blue jeans, a tee that stretched over his muscled torso, and his old scuffed cowboy boots. His feet shifted.

He reached out a finger and tipped up her face. An achingly familiar gesture she’d missed. “Mornin’, Callie,” he said softly.

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White Collar Wedding – and a Thanksgiving Holiday Sale

It’s wedding-eve at Shadow Maverick Ranch. I think I’m more nervous than the bride and groom!

This one is for you, dear reader. I hope you enjoy Gavin and Lauren’s special day … and night.

An Amazon exclusive bonus short from Shadow Maverick Ranch. Only $0.99!

The wedding you’ve all been waiting for…

You’ve been cordially invited to the wedding of Gavin Mathis and Lauren Delgado…

ParkerKincade_WhiteCollarWedding_HRGavin has waited long enough to make Lauren his. He is counting the days until he will stand before his family and friends and pledge his life to hers. For better or worse. Forever.

Lauren is more than ready to say her vows, but with the construction of their new home far behind deadline, she knows there’s only one thing she can do … cancel the honeymoon so she and Gavin can supervise the completion themselves.

Gavin knows arguing with Lauren will get him nowhere. But missed deadlines aren’t worth missing a pleasure-filled week alone with his bride-to-be.

It’s time to take matters into his own hands…

Release Date: November 18, 2014


Available exclusively at Amazon for Kindle and Kindle Unlimited

EXCERPT from White Collar Wedding:

Three weeks before the wedding…

“We’re going to have to cancel.”

Gavin held onto his patience by a thread. “Lauren. Be reasonable.”

His bride-to-be spread her arms and twirled in the middle of what should’ve been their new kitchen, if the fucking contractor had done what Gavin paid him a fortune to do.

Lauren laughed with a manic tone Gavin could go the rest of his life without ever hearing again.

“I am being reasonable. How can we leave for our honeymoon when…” She waved her hand to encompass the area. Her beautiful eyes turned glassy with tears.

Son of a…

Gavin wanted to hit something. Lauren wasn’t prone to shed tears over messes and missed deadlines. She shared his no-nonsense approach to business. More than once he’d been in awe of her strength, the steel in her spine as she’d out-maneuvered countless boardrooms of men.

Every woman had her limits. It seemed the business of building their home had caused Lauren to hit hers.

What was supposed to be the happiest time of their lives had turned into a complete nightmare.

He glanced around the room, which was nothing more than a construction zone. The custom cabinets had been installed, leaving gaping holes where the appliances should be. There were no countertops. No trim. No. Goddamn. Sink.

And that was just the kitchen. The master bathroom didn’t have a shower. The guest bedrooms didn’t have flooring. The walls throughout had yet to be painted.

Anger fired his blood. Oh, he was definitely going to hit something—the chubby jaw of the bastard who’d left this shit undone.

“We aren’t canceling our honeymoon.” He’d waited more than twelve years to make this woman his. They were less than a month from making it official. Lauren deserved the wedding of her dreams, which included their honeymoon in Hawaii. He’d be damned if she wouldn’t get it.

Seemed Lauren had other ideas.

“Let me rephrase. It’s done. I called the travel agent this morning.”

“Damn it, Lauren. You should’ve talked to me before you made that decision for both of us.”

“Talking about it wouldn’t have changed the situation, Gavin, and you know it. Look around. Our home is in shambles. We’re scheduled to move in a month. You really think that’s going to happen if we aren’t here every single day to make sure things are getting done?”

Gavin couldn’t help but take her comment personally. He didn’t believe in micro-management. He paid good money to others so he wouldn’t have to. But the fact remained: the ranch kept him so busy these days that he hadn’t done his job to make sure their house was completed on time.

“So we postpone our move-in date. We’ll stay at the cabin a little longer. It’s not the end of the world, and certainly not worth missing out— ”

“No. We need to stay and deal with this mess. We can go on our honeymoon later.”

“With calving season right around the corner? You know I can’t leave my brothers to handle all the work.”

“They handled it themselves all the years you lived in London. You think they couldn’t handle one more?”

Gavin stared at the woman he loved, wondering at what point she’d decided to turn on him.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said slowly. “Clay has his hands full with the new stock coming in over at Ainsley’s. Even with Jared’s help, it’s all Pax and I can do to keep up without Clay. You know we’re hiring more help, but until then, it’s all hands on deck, baby. We’ve talked about this.”

He reached for her and muttered a curse when she stepped away.

“Lauren.” Gavin folded his arms to avoid the urge to reach for her again. “When I came back to Texas, I made a promise—to myself and to my family. I have a responsibility to be here for them.”

Lauren shoved both hands through her hair, leaving behind a mess of shining waves Gavin longed to bury his own fingers in.

She sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I didn’t mean … of course we can’t go away during calving season. But we can’t go away now either. I wouldn’t be able to relax knowing things are such a mess here.”

Gavin was on her before she could retreat. He pulled her into his arms and breathed a sigh of relief when she melted against him. “I can think of a few ways to help you relax.”

“I have no doubt.” She nuzzled his chest. “I know it’s not ideal, but we could spend our wedding night at the beach house. Maybe spend a day or two there?”

He loved his—their—place on Galveston Island. However— “November isn’t the greatest time for swimming in the Gulf.”

“Who said anything about swimming?”

Gavin stroked a hand over her silky hair, struggling for the words to express how precious she was to him. He settled for, “All right, baby. If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do.”

He’d find a way to give this woman the moon if she asked for it, but spending what should be their honeymoon fighting with housing contractors was not his idea of a good time.

He had to make this right.

It was time to call in reinforcements.

* * * * *

If you missed the journey to their wedding day: White Collar Cowboy will be on sale for $0.99 from November 24-December 4, 2014.

See how it all began …

ParkerKincade_WhiteCollarCowboy_200pxGavin Mathis is ready to settle down. He’s quit his job and come home to Shadow Maverick Ranch to do just that. Too bad his decision caused his beautiful former colleague to lose her job.

Lauren Delgado is a no-nonsense businesswoman. She’s had a crush on Gavin for years, but has a strict “hands-off” policy with the men she works with. When her life takes an unexpected turn, there’s nothing to stop her from accepting his invitation to Galveston Island, where the policy is definitely hands-on.


Praise for White Collar Cowboy:

“Ms. Parker’s writing and dialogue is so very finely tuned that there’s not a superfluous word or action between this hero and heroine, and my, do those words and actions leave you on the edge of your seat!” – Top Pick – The Romance Reviews

“Parker Kincade is a wonderful writer and has the ability to immediately pull the reader into her story and enrapture them from beginning to end.” – 4 Stars – The BookChick

“Parker Kincade knows how to write romance HOT! You will be left breathless and begging for more.” – Mandy Harbin, National Bestselling Author

“Parker Kincade has done it again with her first novella in the Shadow Maverick Ranch series. White Collar Cowboy is a down-to-earth, sexy romance about real people with real world problems who find their happy-ever-after together.  Can’t wait for the rest of the Mathis siblings’ stories.” – Monette Michaels, author of the Security Specialists International series

For more information about this sale, as well as all other news from Kincadia, please consider signing up for my newsletter by clicking here.

Thanks for stopping by! I hope you enjoy the wedding! :-)

Until next time…

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Everyone loves their accessories. Where would I be without my computer or my phone or my car? Everyone has things they can’t do without, like my Kurig coffeepot! A Cowboy is the same. He has to have his horse, his truck, his trailer, his saddle, his gun- and his rope. Not a lasso. If you call a rope a lasso in front of a real cowboy, he’ll snicker. Only greenhorns or city folk call a rope a lasso. I don’t know why, and they can’t tell you why – its just the way it is.

Anyway, a rope is not just a rope. To the cowboy, a rope was a necessity. All the way back to the time of the Pharaohs’,  rope and roping with a lariat type rope was done. There are relief sculptures in Egypt depicting the Pharaoh with a looped lariat held over his head and then another with it thrown over the horns of a bull. The rope is a necessary tool, so essential to working cattle that if you take away the rope, there would have been no such thing as a cowboy. The rope was so much a part of a cowboy’s life that he treated it as an extension of himself. Any city slicker or country boy could learn how to ride, but learning how to wield a rope was work. The art of roping accurately could take years to master.

Not all ropes were created equally. The material the rope is made from determined what the rope was called. In the far west, the riata was used. Normally, the riata was about sixty foot long and made from rawhide. Texas cowboys used a shorter rope made from manila which was softer and made from fibers of the banana plant woven looser than other ropes. Mexican influence gave the cowboy a rope called a maguey, made from the fibers of the century plant, but it was not a favorite since it tended to be very stiff. Ropes made from horse hair were too light, so cowboys didn’t like to use it for roping. The main use for the horsehair rope was decorative. It made good saddle reins and tie ropes.

The material a rope was made from was not its only distinguishing quality, the length of a rope determined its use. Shorter ropes were used for roping and corral work, like calving or branding while longer ropes were used to catch wild stock out on the range.

Ropes like saddles and boots were best after they were ‘broken in’ – a new rope is of little use. Ropes had to seasoned and stretched. Some techniques of breaking in a rope was to hold it over a fire to burn off the ‘whiskers’. Some would tie one end to a fence post and use their horse to pull on the rope to loosen it up. But once it was stretched, the rope could ‘live’ in the hands of the cowboy. A true roper could make the rope sing, actually making a hissing sound as it sailed through the air.

Besides roping cattle, a less savory use for the rope was for hangings. Countless people were hung in the old west, some by authorities and many by vigilantes or outlaws. Although hanging has been a method of execution since time began, all over the world, it became a symbol of the wildness of the old west. In the days of the cowboy, too many innocent people were lynched or killed before their crimes were judged. Being hanged for cattle rustling or robbery was commonplace. I can remember my grandfather talking about some of their cattle being stolen when he was young – and he was angry, but I don’t think the punishment necessarily fit the crime.

As my mom used to say – I’ve said all of that to say this – one of my mottos is “So many cowboys, so little rope” and while a cowboy and his rope is synonymous as the facts I’ve relayed above shows – that isn’t even close to what I’m referring to. As many of you women knew already, there is a much better use for a cowboy’s rope than taming a steer or meting out justice to a rustler. Hell yeah! Thank goodness. Now, I will admit that even though I’ve lived in Texas for a long time, I’ve never roped a cow. All of my cows came to me willingly in hopes I’d give them a nugget or scratch their ears – but I have led my horse, staked my dogs, I’ve even led a cat on a rope leash. I’ve made macramé, I’ve sectioned off part of my porch to keep people from walking in wet paint. Hmmm, I’ve tied a Christmas tree to my car with a rope and I’ve laid one down in the sincere hope that a snake wouldn’t cross it and crawl in my sleeping bag – BUT – rope can be used as a sensual accessory.

Allow me to elaborate – ha! Please.

Using a rope to restrain your cowboy can be as simple as tying his hands behind his back – although I will admit, I do love for him to have his hands free. And there is some appeal to having that rascal spread-eagle on the bed with his hands and feet tied to the four posts of my bed – - sorta like sitting down to a four course meal – an erotic banquet and you don’t really know how to begin.

There is another type of rope play that turns me on and that’s the Japanese art of Shinju or breast bondage where a rope is wound above and below a woman’s breast to frame and push them outward – erotic play that appeals to me a great deal. And speaking of macramé, the best use of rope I have ever seen went into the making of a sex swing.

Rope as a means of arousal is always a power play – the idea of being at someone’s mercy or having them at yours. While I tend to be dominant outside the bedroom, inside the submissive role is more fun. So the rope is a tool that can be used to illustrate and facilitate the power exchange.

So many cowboys, so little rope. What a thought. I think the idea of tying up a handsome cowboy or being lassoed by one is a much better use for the rope than hogtying some steer – any day of the week.

Thank you for listening to me ramble.

I’d like to remind you that I have a recent release – HOW TO ROPE A MCCOY that sorta goes along with this topic and if you’ll tell me the most creative thing you ever did with a rope, I’ll pick a winner and send you one of my keychains which has on it – - lucky enough






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So it’s November again. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t really had time to enjoy the autumn this year. However, it’s certainly getting colder and as winter takes hold with his icy grip, there’s nothing better than snuggling up with a hot cowboy read.

In my bestselling novella Ménage, which was released earlier this year with Carina UK, vulnerable widow Grace Holbein faces an uncertain future. Spurned by the town of Deadwood because of her violent late husband’s troubles she’s all alone in the world. With winter approaching, the future looks bleak until two rugged cowboys ride up to her ranch looking for work in return for room and board.

Grace is wary of these handsome strangers; in her experience men are not to be trusted. However, Matt, fair and athletic, and Blake, dark and ruggedly handsome, are keen to prove to Grace that not all men are alike. The attention she receives from them both thaws her frozen heart and melts her inhibitions; she would welcome either one to warm her bed, but it’s a choice she finds impossible to make. In her dreams she’s allowed them both, but can her brazen desires ever be fulfilled in reality?


Here’s an excerpt:

She moved towards them. Brought their hands to her lips. Pressed her mouth to their fingers in turn. Both of them. Leaving neither man out. Their skin smelt of pine and masculine warmth. She breathed it in, licking her lips as it fired her desire.

Matt gasped and she met his eyes. They were dark. His own lips slightly parted.

She glanced at Blake. His eyes echoed the need in Matt’s. What was happening here?

This wasn’t possible. She had dreamt of this even though she had denied it upon waking with her hands between her legs and her body coated in perspiration. Being loved by them both simultaneously.

She took a step closer to Matt and he lowered his head. He pressed his mouth to hers. He kissed her. Gently. Slowly. She leaned into him, feeling his body all along the front of her own. He was so hard, so strong, so desirable.

She forced herself to pull away then moved towards Blake. He wrapped his strong arms around her and returned her kiss. His mouth was firmer, more insistent. He pressed his tongue between her lips and delved into her mouth. She sighed and ran her own tongue over his. Tasting. Touching. Wanting.

He pulled her closer and she felt his erection against her belly. He was hard. He wanted her. She wanted him. But what about Matt?

She pulled away from Blake’s kisses and glanced at the other cowboy. He stepped closer and kissed her again while she was still in Blake’s arms.

So they were okay with this? They both wanted her? Like this? Her stomach flipped with excitement. How would this work?

Matt moved behind her and lifted her wet hair. He kissed the back of her neck and she shivered with delight. He kissed and nibbled her ear lobes and tickled them with his hot breath. So gentle. So new. She took Blake’s face in her hands and caressed his cheeks, his jaw, the tight cords which stood out in his thick neck.

As Matt ran his hands up and down her sides, nibbling and kissing her neck, Blake kissed her mouth, her throat, the tops of her breasts which rose and fell rapidly above her dress.

Then they began to undress her.

They gently stripped away her clothing. Pulled off her boots and stockings and unlaced her corset. All the while, still kissing and caressing her so that every inch of her body was aflame.

When she stood in just her shift before them, they quickly peeled off their own clothes.

Grace trembled. Being exposed in the past had heralded the advent of pain and fear. Agony that sometimes lasted the whole night through. If Matt and Blake had hidden their true selves from her and they were about to hurt her, then she would die in their arms. She would want to. Because finding out that they were not the good, kind men that she had fallen for would break her heart. And if that happened, then death would be a welcome escape.

She gazed at Blake. Naked, he was even easier on the eye than he was fully clothed. He was strong, muscular, firm. His body was hard and defined from his broad shoulders to his strong wide thighs. The ebony hair of his head was echoed across his chest in a light dusting and a line of hair ran from his chest down to his navel then to the patch of dark curls at his groin. From amidst them jutted his thick, erect cock. It stuck out from his body, dusky pink with dark, raised veins and a bead of moisture like a diamond at its quivering tip.

Rather than filling her with fear or revulsion, as Jack’s member had, Blake’s filled her with need. It was an extension of this gentle and desirable man. A part of him and what he had to offer. And she wanted it. Wanted him. Inside her.

A nudging at her back made her turn to Matt. He was as gorgeous as Blake. His skin as bronzed down to his waist then white where his flesh had not been exposed to the sun. His chest was hairless but at his groin, the curls were as golden blond as her own. His impressive erection stood to attention, as thick and hard as Blake’s.

They both wanted her. She hugged herself tight inside.

Matt pulled her into his arms and laid her down on the bed facing him. He kissed her softly at first but his kisses grew harder as he pulled her body against his own. His cock nudged at the front of her shift, pushing the thin material between her legs. All of her inhibitions drifted away as she gave in to the need and longing that pulsed through her core.

She had denied herself so much for what felt like a lifetime. Been afraid and numb for an eternity. But finally, she was free. Finally, she was beginning to open up, to surrender to what she wanted.

Behind her, Blake had begun to edge her shift up her legs. He kissed each patch of newly revealed skin. He got to her bottom and kissed the cheeks. It tickled and Grace wriggled on the bed, causing Matt to grind into her even harder. His cock slipped through the folds of her shift and between the wet folds of her sex, sliding around in her damp heat. She groaned, desperate to feel him pushing into her further so that he entered her body completely.

Her shift was up to her lower back now. And still Blake kissed her.

In front of her, Matt also lifted the material, exposing her pussy, her belly, her pert little breasts with their hard fuchsia nubs. Matt moved down her body and began to suckle her nipples, pulling them into his mouth in turn until she panted with need. All the times that Jack had taken her, he’d never stirred her like this. His hands on her breasts had been cruel and he had made her flesh crawl. Matt’s caresses made her want to scream with need.

At the same time he ran a hand down between her legs, pushing between her wet silken lips and rubbing at her swollen bud. She moved with his knowing hand, up and down, round and round. She pulled his head closer to her breasts, losing herself in pleasure.


Have a great week!
Molly xxx


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Back in the saddle again…

Hey ya’all. *waving* It’s a busy time of year for everyone, me included. What with the friends dropping in all the time, I’m amazed I’ve gotten all my 2014 writing projects completed.

I’m excited about my latest book set in the Old West. No cover yet, but I’m sharing a snippet from Cur, my erotic historical western coming out next month.



~the devil you don’t want to know…

They were half way home, the stars were out, and the path better lighted than on the nights before. It was impossible for Sara to  ignore Cur’s actions when he cupped her breast and massaged it through her dress.
“You shouldn’t do that,” she told him, but she didn’t slap his hand, or move from his touch and she knew he could feel the way her nipple had pebbled under his thumb’s caress.
Liquid heat pooled between her legs and she stifled a moan when he brushed his whiskers against her cheek. Then he nudged her head to turn her face so he could claim her lips.

Somehow during the kiss, Cur unbuttoned her bodice  and when his hand touched her flesh she couldn’t control her gasp of pleasure.
By the time they reached the willow tree, he had her gown undone to the waist and both breasts exposed to the night air. His mouth roved from her lips to her neck and he chuckled when she trembled and arched into his touch.
“Sara, I think you’re hungry for me.” He didn’t ride on to the house. Instead, he slid down from his horse, carrying her to the ground and giving her no time to gather her wits.
He backed her against the willow tree and lifted her so her breasts were aligned with his mouth.“You’ll like this, sweetheart, I promise.”
Sara protested weakly as he licked the area around her nipples,  sucked on each, and pinched the tips between his teeth, growling in his throat as he pulled and tongued her hard peaks.
She twisted and writhed in his grip,  but not to get away. She wanted more of the pleasure he offered and clutched his head, pushing her flesh against his mouth.
“Are you wet for me?” he mumbled around the nipple he sucked. At the same time he dropped one hand to fumble with her skirts.
Sara knew he’d discover her drawers were damp. She didn’t have time to worry about that when he stroked his finger back and forth across the thin material until he found the rigid nub of nerves at her apex and pinched it.
She jerked and gasped at the sensation that surged through her. With mouth and hand he worked her into a frenzy of lust.
“Ride me,” he growled. Before she could ask what he meant, Cur planted his boot on the tree and lifted her so she straddled his thigh.

She squeezed his leg between hers, and her cunny flexed hungrily as she blatantly rubbed against his denim covered arousal.

When he released her nipple and took her mouth, his tongue followed the rhythm of her swaying hips.

“That’s it sweetheart, use me to find your pleasure,” he muttered. “Don’t hold back, let me feel your honey on my leg when you come.”
When she found her release, a surge of energy flowed through her dazzling all of her senses. She pressed her face against his chest to stifle her moans, but he continued his attentions until a second orgasm pulsed through her. Dazed, she slumped forward.
He lowered her to her feet and held her while she tried to regain her senses. Her climax had been so powerful she felt limp and lethargic.

After he buttoned her bodice and pulled her back into his embrace, they stood in the darkness of the tree. Sara rested her head against his chest as he nuzzled her hair and stroked his hand up and down her spine.
Finally, composed enough to formulate a sentence,  Sara whispered, “I need to get home.”
Without a word, he seated them both on the horse and carried her to her door where he didn’t lose the chance for a last kiss. He took her mouth and didn’t release her until she was breathless and once again aroused.
“Think about that when you dream tonight, Sara,” he told her. “I know I will.”

© 2014 Gem Sivad LLC. All rights reserved.

And to make up for lack of man-candy today, I’m giving away a 2015 Hunks Calendar.

Leave a comment below, and you might be the lucky owner of this calendar full of gorgeous cowboys! (I’ll use to pick the winner, and on Friday, I’ll announce the winner in the comments below as well as on, Twitter, FB, and my blog).

Good Luck Everyone. Thanks for stopping by!


 Erotic, Paranormal, and Historical Romance
Author of the series Eclipse Heat & Unlikely Gentlemen
Published by Ellora’s Cave, Siren BookStrand & Dark Mountain Books
Web / Twitter / FB / Amazon / GR / 
Posted in Historical Western Stuff, New Release, Westerns | 32 Comments

Navy SEALs and Cowboys! And Christmas, too!

On November 18, my newest addition to my Heroes of Chance Creek series will release as part of the SEALs of Winter box set. The Navy SEAL’s Christmas Bride is a holiday novella sure to please any fan of the series.

My Heroes of Chance Creek books feature the four Hall brothers, who are all in the process of leaving the military and coming home to bring their family’s ranch–Crescent Hall–back to life. The series started with Mason Hall in The Navy SEAL’s E-Mail Order Bride, and book 2, The Soldier’s E-Mail Order Bride, is also out. Book 3, The Marine’s E-Mail Order Bride, is due to release in December, with Book 4, The Airman’s E-Mail Order Bride coming out early in 2015.

The Navy SEAL’s Christmas Bride features a friend of Mason’s–Dan Hemmins–who is also leaving the military.

Here’s a short blurb:

Navy SEAL Dan Hemmins goes head to head with soldier Sarah Metlin to prove once and for all that woman can’t possibly qualify for an elite branch of the military, but when Sarah proves she’s not just one of the most qualified warriors he’s ever met, she’s also one of the smartest and sexiest, too, he’ll do whatever it takes to get closer to her, even if he has to challenge her to another contest…or three…or five!

And here is an excerpt:

“It’s been a while since we raced, Austin. What do you say?” Zane said.

“Sure thing.”

“What about you, Sarah?” Everyone looked at him when Dan spoke up. “Are you going to run the course?”

Sarah shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’m going to help Regan.”

“Too chicken to try it out? I should have guessed.” Why did the hazel-eyed, dark haired woman grab his attention so effectively? She didn’t have the long, thick tresses he usually was drawn to. Her curls were short enough for active duty. Her eyes were expressive, her lips full enough to be sensuous, but he knew damn well that under her cable-knit sweater would be muscles, not the full curves he liked so much.

Although she was pretty curvy.

“I’m not chicken.”

The clipped tone of her voice brought his gaze up to meet hers. Damn, had she caught him speculating about her body?

“It wouldn’t be fair,” Ella spoke up. “Her racing against you.”

“Why—because she’s just a girl?” He couldn’t have asked for a better setup. Sarah wouldn’t be able to ignore him now. He could see the flare of resentment in her eyes, coupled with a tightening of her mouth that told him she didn’t want to hurt Ella’s feelings by snapping at her.

“I’m not just a girl. I’m a soldier and I’m every bit as fast as you.”

Dan smiled. Gotcha. “Then we’ll race. I’m looking forward to kicking your ass.”

“Good luck.” She picked up her sandwich and took a bite, as cool as a cucumber.

She wouldn’t be cool for long. She’d be huffing and puffing as she tried to keep up with him. No woman could beat him in a race.

And then what? Winning a contest wasn’t really what he was after, was it? He wanted to get close to Sarah in an altogether different kind of way.

“How about we make the race more interesting?” he said loudly, cutting across the conversations that had sprung up around the table again.

Sarah sighed. Turned to him. “What do you have in mind?”

“A bet.”

“No bets,” Regan said sternly. “I don’t want this to get out of hand.”

“It won’t get out of hand, will it, Sarah?” Dan kept his gaze squarely on her face. Was it his imagination or were her cheeks turning pink?

Just his imagination.

“What kind of bet?” She took another bite of her sandwich, still unperturbed.

“I said, no bets!” Regan looked exasperated. “Mason—”

“A kiss under the mistletoe if I win.”

Sarah chewed slowly. Swallowed. “And if you lose?”

“Name your penalty.” He was enjoying this all too much. He hoped she’d ask for a kiss, too, but doubted it.

“You run a loop around the Hall naked.”

A chorus of whoops filled the dining room. “Now we’re talking!” Zane guffawed. “Mothers, cover your daughters’ eyes!”

“Don’t worry—there won’t be any nudity,” Dan said. “I’m not the one who’s going to lose. Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart.”

“We’ll see about that, pretty boy.” Sarah looked unconvinced.

Pretty boy? He narrowed his eyes. She’d pay for that.

With a kiss.

Available in the SEALs of Winter box set on November 18!

Available as a stand-alone novella in December.

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Cowboys and heroes just seem to go together, don’t they?

Don’t forget to leave a comment to be in the running for the GC we award each month. 

Since today is Veteran’s Day, Cerise Deland and I are hosting a Facebook Party to Honor Our heroes. Come by and see us at

But let me give you a taste of two of my cowboy military heroes.

Unconditional Surrenderunconditionalsurrender_800

From Whipped Cream Reviews:

“Unconditional Surrender is well written, has compelling characters and is very sexy. It’s a good length to lose yourself in and I for one would be happy to see what stories the other members of this Delta Force team have to tell.”

Slade Donavan is the leader of a Delta Force team. But he’s so much more than just an alpha male on the battlefield. At home on his ranch outside San Antonio, he breeds and trains horses. It’s definitely the Texan in him. He loves having control over the animals. He also wants and demands control in the bedroom, a role he prides himself in. But what happens when he wants more than just a woman to play with for one night. What happens when he needs someone to share his life with? Kari, an assistant district attorney, works hard and plays hard too. But since a meeting with a Dom five years ago when she was a young, naïve sub, she’s been searching for that a Dom to share her life with but without success.


perf5.000x8.000.inddRide the Mustang

Fletcher “Mustang” Call gets his call sign because when he’s home on his ranch in Texas he raises and trains mustangs. His favorite mount is a wild mustang he caught some time ago. He’s also a dedicated SEAL and a committed Dom. The one thing he isn’t is relationship material. A tragedy in his past killed his desire for more than a good time on leave and a little D/s play. Until April Coe walked into his life, a woman unlike any he’s known. Problem is, she’s as vanilla as they come.

April was warned about Mustang, a man as wild and free as his call sign, so she doesn’t expect him to stick around for long. That’s okay, she’ll enjoy the great sex while she can. At least, she thought it was great. When she senses her sexy bronco is holding back, she has to decide whether to ride the mustang a little harder or set him free.






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Thank You for a Fantastic Concert, Garth Brooks

Since we’re heading to my husband, Kick’s company corporate office in Wisconsin this week, he surprised me on my birthday with tickets to the Garth Brooks concert in Minneapolis on November 9.


Photo from

It was an amazing concert. He’s such a showman, and even though his voice was a little rough from too many nights on the tour, he gave us everything he had. He even commented on his shaky voice: “I’m 113 years old, one biscuit shy of 260, and I have no voice left, but I’m here to give you a show!” And he did!

Starting with hew new single Man Against Machine which is a heavy rocking song, Garth got the show off with a wild kick. Then he did favorites, well, my favorites, anyway, like Rodeo, Thunder Rolls, Two Pina Coladas. He did some of Kick’s favorites, too. The River, Ain’t Goin’ Down (Til the Sun Comes Up), Standing Outside the Fire, and Much Too Young (To Feel This Damn Old). Hahaha, that’s kind of Kick’s theme song!

When he sang Beaches of Cheyenne, which always reminds me of Lane Frost in the movie 8 Seconds, I teared up. I love that song, and hearing him sing it, live and in person, really touched me.

Here’s the view from our seats. We were close enough to touch the roof of the arena, but with the big screens behind the stage, and our binoculars, it was a perfect spot.


He ended with Friends in Low Places, and I realized we’d been on our feet the whole show, and so had the rest of the audience.

Unfortunately, we woke to five inches of sleety snow this morning, but luckily we don’t have to drive to Wisconsin until tomorrow. Hopefully the roads will be cleared by then.

Delafield_WIIf you’re a Wisconsinite, and live anywhere near Delafield (which is close to Milwaukee) and would like to get together with me for lunch Wednesday, November 12, e-mail me at Randi (at) RandiAlexander (dot) com and I’ll treat for lunch and bring some swag, too!

Garth’s concert won its way into my Top Five list of best concerts, and if you get a chance to see him on this tour, I urge you to do it. A fabulous musician, an extraordinary entertainer, and a set of songs that never grow old.

Are you a Garth fan? What’s your favorite song, and why?

“Rode Hard and Put Up Satisfied”
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Cowboy Winter

Well, it’s November and here in the Pacific Northwest that means it’s turning cold.

Okay, not as cold as the Mid-West or East can get, but for this transplant from California, it’s cold.

This morning there was frost on my lawn.  I’m not ready for it.  But then I got thinking about cowboys and what do they do in winter.

So let me know what you think about this:


I’d never thought about skiing cowboys.  But it does make sense.

This was a charity event, but it did get me wondering about how the cowboys get around in winter.  Ski’s would be one way, another would be snow mobiles.

Can you think of some others?

Personally I think I’d like to be hold up in a log cabin, a raging fire with this cowboy by my side.


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