Wild & Wicked Cowboys

Guest Mia Ashlinn Talks About Her First Cowboy Crush

Randi Alexander — Thu, 23 Feb 2012 05:01:52 +0000

So many people have told me how no one ever forgets their first love. Well, I can’t weigh in on that statement since I married my first and only love a couple of years after high school graduation. I can, however, say that my first cowboy crush still holds a special place in my heart.

As a teenager, I went through one crush after the next. Whoa, that sounds bad. Maybe, I should alter that statement to: Like most teenage girls, I had a variety of crushes. Yeah, that sounds much better.

There were the jocks…

There were the geeks (I married one of these, but that is a whole different story)…

There were the band nerds (I can say this affectionately since I was in the band)…

But, guess who I remember best? The one that looks like this thirteen years later, at least he does in my imagination…

With age, a large portion of these boys have receded into the background, and I am embarrassed to admit that a lot of them are now nameless, faceless guys. My cowboy crush definitely doesn’t fall into this category. He hasn’t faded from my mind, not even in the slightest. Each and every detail of this teenage boy is etched in my mind.

From his dark as coal hair and cobalt blue eyes to his painted on jeans and golden belt buckle, he’s stood the test of time. ‘The Butt Guy’, as my friends and I dubbed him because of his mouthwatering backside, wore a silver belly Stetson. He drove an old, beat up truck and swaggered in a way that every girl’s heart palpitated when he walked by.

As luck would have it, I had a class with ‘The Butt Guy’ during my sophomore year. Oh yes, I had 90 minutes of uninterrupted time in a tiny, hot room with him. Needless to say, this had to be in the top three of my favorite high school classes. It would have been nice if I actually learned something in there, but I was too busy gawking at him shamelessly to retain a thing the teacher said. I lost count of how many times I had to wipe drool off my chin when no one was looking. The sound of his rumbling laughter and his deep, sexy voice had my teenage libido racing. The manly scent of him didn’t help my raging hormones, either.

Did I mention he was a genuinely nice guy? We are talking, a door opening, book carrying, “Thank you ma’am” saying gentleman. He remembered people’s birthdays and asked about their lives. If something went wrong, he was the first person there and the last person to leave.

Overall, he was perfect. There is no other word for him. Simply perfect. Unfortunately, he didn’t know I existed in a romantic way, but that’s okay with me. I fell in love a year and a half later with someone I had known for years. So, I have no regrets when it comes to ‘The Butt Guy’.

I guess my point is this – When I write, the heroes are the kind of men who stand out in a sea of other men. They’re the men that someone knows they can’t have but feels satisfied just to read his story. I knew I couldn’t have this guy, and I didn’t care. I felt blessed to even know him.

One day, I hope to be lucky enough to meet him again. I want to thank him for showing me what my ideal cowboy is – sexy as hell, smart as a whip, and nice as can be.

-Mia

Mia Ashlinn lives in East Tennessee with her wonderful, loving husband and their drama queen daughter. She loves to read anything she can get her hands on and cook whatever crazy recipe comes to her mind. Mia’s debut book, Destined To Be Three, releases today. This is the first story in the Sweet Serenity series published by Siren.

Buy Now at http://www.bookstrand.com/destined-to-be-three/

Blurb:

Seeking change, Jaycee Dalton takes a huge gamble with a life-altering game of “Truth or Dare.”

Jaycee’s innocuous dare lands her on the doorstep of a mysterious fortune teller who throws her a curveball that shakes her to the core: The two loves of her life are coming for her. She wanted change, and she was about to get it.

Grayson Blakemore and Cade McCoy have a love that most people only dream of, but they are missing one pivotal piece – Jaycee. Tired of living half lives, Gray and Cade concoct a scheme with her friends to win her back.

Shamelessly exploiting the dare she is taking, Gray and Cade kidnap Jaycee and prove that love is more than just playing sexy games. When Jaycee discovers their devious plot, will she feel betrayed or will she turn the tables on them and play a game of her own?

M/M/F Adult Excerpt:

Sitting back in his chair, Gray watched Cade stand up and skirt around the kitchen table before kneeling at his feet. Cade smiled up at him naughtily and said, “Breakfast time.”

Cade unsnapped Gray’s jeans then lowered the zipper and parted the material. With a lick of his lips, Cade pulled Gray’s engorged cock out of his pants and guided it to his mouth. He sucked the head of Gray’s dick inside, twirling his tongue around it.

Gray groaned as Cade’s teeth grazed the sensitive skin. “I thought you were hungry, damn it.”

Cade smiled around Gray’s cock and nodded his head.

“Well, so am I,” Gray ground out in frustration. He pushed his painfully hard cock all the way into Cade’s sweltering mouth slowly, inch by fucking inch, until the head pressed against the soft spot at the back of his throat. Gray grabbed Cade’s head in a firm grip, denying him any movement. He pulled out of Cade’s wet mouth then slid back in.

Cade cupped Gray’s balls and rolled them in one hand while his other hand dropped between his own legs to palm his jean-covered cock. He moaned around Gray’s dick, the vibrations driving Gray closer to the edge.

Blood pounded through Gray’s veins, racing through his body and heading straight for his throbbing cock. His hips turned into pistons, allowing him to plunge faster and deeper, his thrusts becoming more forceful. He face fucked his lover ruthlessly until his dick swelled, nearly doubling in size. A tingle ran down his spine and his balls drew up, ready for an explosive release.

“Oh, hell,” Jaycee gasped from the doorway with a mischievous smile. She dropped a bag of groceries on the tile and sauntered toward them, her hips swaying seductively with each step she took.

Jaycee touched Gray’s bicep, coasting her hand up his arm to his shoulder. She moved in behind his chair and leaned down, kissing the side of his neck sweetly. She slid her hands over his shoulders and down the front of his chest, kneading his muscles as she went.

Nibbling Gray’s flesh, Jaycee made a pathway to his ear. “It’s fucking hot to watch Cade suck your cock. It makes me so damn horny,” she whispered sultrily, pausing long enough to lick the shell of his ear with her soft tongue. “If one of you touched my pussy right now, I would come fast and hard—like Cade is about to make you.”

Gray groaned and gripped Cade’s reddish-colored hair tightly in his fist, using the strands to angle his head back. His hips surged forward burying his cock deep inside Cade’s mouth and he came with a shout as his body jerked. His cum burst from his dick, flooding Cade’s sexy mouth.

Cade closed his forest-green eyes and licked his lips. “Mmmm.”

Blowing in Gray’s ear, Jaycee murmured, “He loves your cum, Gray. It tastes so fucking good.” She grasped the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. “I love the way it feels in my mouth.”

Gray turned his head and kissed Jaycee quickly but hungrily. Ripping his defiant lips from hers, he growled, “You’re so spanked.”

Jaycee grinned wickedly and said, “You’re so fucked.”

Gray shook his head in amusement, pulling his softened cock from Cade’s mouth. He bent over and kissed Cade, tasting the mixture of his cum with the natural flavor of Cade’s mouth. He covered Cade’s hand with his own, grinding the palm against the hard ridge of Cade’s cock.

“Fuck.” Cade hissed and shuddered as he orgasmed, his cum wetting the front of his jeans.

Jaycee strolled around the chair, glancing at Gray’s already-rebounding cock then the damp spot on Cade’s jeans. “My turn, boys,” she purred and stripped off her clothes.

Gray and Cade got to their feet, tearing at their clothes until they were naked and aroused.

A very nude, very sexy Jaycee swept all the cups and plates on the table onto the floor then crawled on top of it. Turning, she faced them and opened her legs.

“See how wet I am for you two?” She sighed, dipping her finger into her cunt then pulling it right back out. She held her hand up where they could see her wet finger perfectly.

“Jaycee Elizabeth,” Gray growled, advancing on her.

Cade moved around the other side and climbed onto the table behind her. He brushed her hair aside, his lips descending to the curve of her neck. Pressing small kisses to her skin, Cade’s arms snaked around her chest, and he palmed her breasts.

She arched her back with a moan. “Cade.”

Gray closed in on her, capturing her wrist and pulling it toward his awaiting mouth. Without taking his eyes off her face, he licked her juices off her finger, one swipe at a time.

She whimpered, her eyes locked to his lips. “Gray.”

“We’re hungry, sweetheart,” Gray told her, watching as her eyes widened. “Feed us.”

Instead of letting her ask, he led her hand between her gorgeous legs and placed it on her pussy. “Fuck yourself,” he ordered gruffly. “We want you for dessert.”

Cade lifted up, looking over her shoulder, without releasing her breasts from his hands. “I love dessert, darlin’.”

Jaycee leaned back into Cade with a sigh and shoved two fingers inside her saturated cunt. Thrusting her hand in and out, she finger fucked herself urgently.

Within seconds, her body tightened up and her eyes closed, concentration etched on her face.

“Stop,” Gray commanded gutturally.

Immediately, she stopped and opened her eyes slowly, revealing the lusty blue depths. “I was so fucking close, Gray.”

“Just a minute, sweetheart,” Gray whispered soothingly. “Give me your hand.”

She held her hand out to him, and he clasped it with a smile, moving it to her shoulder. He and Cade lowered their mouths, each of them sucking one finger inside. At the same time, Gray plunged three fingers inside her slick pussy.

Jaycee screamed.

Country Communities

Myla Jackson — Wed, 22 Feb 2012 10:47:32 +0000

When someone mentions small towns or country communities, what do you think of? I think of a general store on Main Street where you can buy anything from a can of beans to a roll of barbed wire. Where a bench sits on the front porch of the store where old-timers can sit and shoot the breeze, talking of “back in the old days” and “when I was a youngster”.

People come together wherever they can. At church, at barbeques, at the local football games and the favorite watering hole (saloon or bar for those who are picturing the animal kingdom). The men and women in small communities work hard and play harder, from loading a trailer full of horses, tossing hay bales to the top of a stack or mucking out stalls. On Friday and Saturday night they might kick up their heels at the local saloon (like the one I’ve imagined in the Ugly Stick Saloon books) where they line dance with the girls, or two-step with their partner. Men drink beer and whiskey, not those fancy mixed drinks like the city-folks prefer. They wear pressed jeans and cowboy boots and a clean, pressed shirt all buttoned up. Top it with a cowboy hat and you’re ready for a night out.

Country people enjoy friendships that will last all their lives. When someone needs help, friends come from all around. Whether it’s to rebuild a barn blown over by a tornado, or round up a stray cow that’s managed to make it through the fence. And don’t forget the animal friends a cowboy has. He’s always attached to his horse. There’s a bond between man and beast. They look out for each other.

Whenever you’re feeling lost and lonely, go to a country town and see how welcome you feel. Come on down. Set a spell. They have stories to tell.

Come on down and visit the Ugly Stick Saloon in

BOOTS AND CHAPS

BY Myla Jackson

She gave up stripping to go legit…until three Kiowa cowboys bring on the down-and-dirty.

Blurb:

Jackson Gray Wolf is turning thirty, and what does he have to show for it? A ranch. No wife, no kids, no dates. He’s had his eye on the pretty owner of the Ugly Stick Saloon, but their one accidental encounter was interrupted before he could get her out of her take-me-now red cowboy boots.

Audrey Anderson isn’t in the market for a man. Been there, done that, has the scars to prove it. She retired her pole-dancing boots after purchasing the Ugly Stick Saloon, and now manages a stable of strippers. When she winds up one stripper short for a private party, she’s forced to slip on a mask and into the role of the mysterious Kiki.

Jackson didn’t want the birthday bash his twin brothers are throwing him, but his vow to ignore the rented stripper goes awry when she shows him exactly how far she’s willing to go—for all three of them.

Audrey can’t forget the sizzling heat between her and one sexy Kiowa in particular. Jackson. Trouble is, she’s not sure if he wants the bold, brassy Kiki, or if he’s ready for the wounded woman underneath.

Samhain Publishing
Barnes & Noble Nook
Amazon Kindle

It’s Presidents’ Day – Our Cowboy President

Randi Alexander — Mon, 20 Feb 2012 05:01:35 +0000

Since we’re celebrating Presidents’ Day, I thought it would be fun to talk about Teddy Roosevelt, the cowboy who made it to the White House. It’s an interesting story about a city dweller who adopted the cowboy way of life.

This is an excerpt from Rough Rider in the White House by Sarah Watts.

At age twenty-five, on his first trip to the Dakota badlands in 1883, Roosevelt purchased a ranch, bought a herd of cattle, hired ranch hands, and, spending considerable time there, began to develop his Western image. He took “obvious delight,” his younger cousin Nicholas observed, in the “apparently pathological extremes” of his exploits in the Dakotas—”rides of seventy miles or more in a day, hunting hikes of fourteen to sixteen hours, stretches in the saddle in roundups of as long as forty hours.”

During his early years as a ranchman, Roosevelt’s appearance, in studio photos at least, suggested a Leatherstocking frontiersman of the eighteenth-century Appalachian wilderness. In 1883 or 1884, he posed in a fringed buckskin outfit, complete with hunting cap, moccasins, cartridge belt, silver dagger, and rifle. Yet without Western attire, a horse, or an open prairie, he still looked like an Eastern would-be.

In 1885, returning East after a bighorn hunting trip to Montana, Roosevelt had another studio photo made. This time he appeared as a self-consciously overdressed yet recognizable Western cowboy posed as bold and determined, armed and ready for action. “You would be amused to see me,” he wrote to Henry Cabot Lodge in 1884, in my “broad sombrero hat, fringed and beaded buckskin shirt, horse hide chaparajos or riding trousers, and cowhide boots, with braided bridle and silver spurs.” To his sister Bamie, he boasted, “I now look like a regular cowboy dandy, with all my equipments finished in the most expensive style.”

Only the fringed buckskin shirt remained from his Leatherstocking outfit. Buckskin, he said, represented America’s “most picturesque and distinctively national dress,” attire worn by Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett…

During his time in the Dakotas, Roosevelt hardened his body, a task, Nicholas remembered, that was not completed “to his satisfaction” until his late twenties. Roosevelt’s struggles against cattle thieves and lawless gangs and his skill in breaking and riding wild cow ponies provided the physical courage “which his soul had aspired to in boyhood,” William Roscoe Thayer observed. His asthma abated, and finally he developed a body “which could back up any resolution he might take.” “I am well hardened now,” Roosevelt wrote to his sister Anna in 1884; “I have just come in from spending thirteen hours in the saddle.”

Strengthened by the rough life of a cattle rancher, Roosevelt continued to develop his Western image. Beside his horse in another photo, undated but probably from the late 1880s, he wears essentially the same outfit as he did as a studio cowboy, minus the chaps. This image reveals a more resolute, saddle-worn, authentic cowboy standing beside a working cow pony against a bona fide Western backdrop. Still posed, though not so stiffly as in the studio shot, he rests his hand on his gun and is more believably ready for action because he now wears [his] glasses.

As Roosevelt’s cowboy image evolved, his popular image changed along with it. When he bought his first ranch, both Westerners and the Eastern press ridiculed him for looking like an overdressed, overeducated tenderfoot. By 1886, his Western exploits had visibly hardened him. “What a change!” the Pittsburgh Dispatch exclaimed; “he is now brown as a berry and has increased 30 pounds in weight.” His high and squeaky voice was now “hearty and strong enough to drive oxen.”

Reviewers of Hunting Trips of a Ranchman: Ranch Life and the Hunting Trail (1888) and The Wilderness Hunter (1893) allowed Roosevelt the full legitimacy of Western cowboy life. The New York Times certified that “Mr. Roosevelt has had full practical experience of what he writes about” and noted that “to be a cowboy . . . is by no means an easy task.” Ranching life held “a special charm for the gilded youth of the Eastern states,” The Dial‘s reviewer reported, “and Mr. Roosevelt seems to have followed it.”

It was not just how a cowboy looked that separated him from Easterners, but how he lived. In their struggle against nature, the New York Tribune noted, cowboys had to live lives of “intelligent barbarism” that involved “barbarous and crude forms of dissipation.” “I heartily enjoy this life, with its perfect freedom,” Roosevelt wrote, “for I am very fond of hunting, and there are few sensations I prefer to that of galloping over these rolling, limitless prairies, rifle in hand.”

“He craved once more to be alone with nature,” reported the naturalist John Burroughs; “he was evidently hungry for the wild and aboriginal,—a hunger that seems to come upon him regularly at least once a year, and drives him forth on his hunting trips for big game in the West.” In this intense contact with a heightened reality, Roosevelt claimed to have discovered the raw and primitive man in himself—what Easterners must have been like before being drained of their life juices. “This is what I was like when I had the bark on,” he later wrote.

Though himself a New Yorker, Roosevelt … preferred his Western life of wild horses, wild terrain, and wild game … Western hunting required natural buckskin shirts, rifles, and rugged cow ponies, Roosevelt said…

By the time of the Cuban campaign, Roosevelt’s Rough Rider performance completed his evolution from Leatherstocking to a hardened, purposeful cowboy-cavalry hero. In an 1898 photo, Colonel Theodore Roosevelt of the Rough Riders prepares to embark for Cuba. … With authentic cowboy and warrior accoutrements, Roosevelt had remade the youthful, slim, decorated, and slightly feminized body of the studio photos into a battle-hardened man of action worthy of national acclaim.

After serving as governor of New York and McKinley’s vice president, Roosevelt became president in 1901. Punch commemorated the ascent of the nation’s favorite cowboy to the highest office. Sending its “best wishes,” the magazine pictured the Rough Rider, complete with an American flag saddle blanket, reporting for duty as president of the United States.

By this time, the entire nation knew of Roosevelt’s youthful bodybuilding to overcome frailty, his cowboy and hunting exploits in the Dakotas, his pugnacious style in New York politics, and his bravery under fire in the war against Spain. Seconding Roosevelt’s own tireless self-promotion, national magazines and newspapers faithfully recorded his every move. A million Teddy bears were for sale in New York City alone. Young boys began strengthening regimens, and grown men reveled in what the New York Tribune in 1907 called Roosevelt’s “opulent efficiency of mind and body.”

By then well into his second term, the five-foot-eight Roosevelt weighed over two hundred pounds. He was a “strong, tough man; hard to hurt and harder to stop,” remarked his heavyweight sparring partner, a professional boxer who came regularly to the White House for workouts. “His large frame and thick neck gave the impression of a big man,” his cousin Nicholas Roosevelt observed, and “his chest was powerful and well developed.” General Arthur MacArthur remarked to Roosevelt how pleased he was that at last the nation had a president who could review troops on horseback.

A self-made cowboy. You have to admire that! Hope you have a Happy Presidents’ Day!
Randi
RandiAlexander.com
Chase and Seduction is available at The Wild Rose Press
Cowboy Lust is available for pre-order at Amazon.com

Copyright notice: Excerpted from pages 123-35 of Rough Rider in the White House: Theodore Roosevelt and the Politics of Desire by Sarah Watts, published by the University of Chicago Press. ©2003 by The University of Chicago. All rights reserved. This text may be used and shared in accordance with the fair-use provisions of U.S. copyright law, and it may be archived and redistributed in electronic form, provided that this entire notice, including copyright information, is carried and provided that the University of Chicago Press is notified and no fee is charged for access. Archiving, redistribution, or republication of this text on other terms, in any medium, requires the consent of the University of Chicago Press.
Sarah Watts Rough Rider in the White House: Theodore Roosevelt and the Politics of Desire ©2003, 300 pages, 57 halftones Cloth $40.00 ISBN: 978-0-226-87607-8 Paper $20.00 ISBN: 978-0-226-87609-2
For information on purchasing the book—from bookstores or here online—please go to the webpage for Rough Rider in the White House.

Sexy Excerpt from LONE HEART

Delilah Devlin — Sun, 19 Feb 2012 16:04:20 +0000

Lone Heart is out! In this scene, Charli Kudrow has been struggling against her attraction for a young cowboy she just met. She’s trying to walk the sensible path, but that path’s blocked when she witnesses the other man in her life, her best friend and foreman, with another woman. Click on the cover if you’d like to read more! ~DD

When temptation catches fire, saddle up and hang on for the ride.

Lone Wyatt is a long way from his Colorado home. After his brother married the woman they both loved, he figured it’d be best if he was out of the way. He’d like to have his own one-and-only, but he’s in no rush. Until he saunters into a small Oklahoma town and spots Charli Kudrow. One wary glance from her haunted eyes, and he knows there’s hidden fire inside her just waiting to erupt. And he’s ready to tear through every objection she can think up.

Charli intends to slip out of Shooters unnoticed as soon as she’s done pinning a help wanted notice to the bulletin board. But there’s a cowboy at the bar with a killer smile who seems hell-bent on seducing her. And she feels something she hasn’t felt in five long years of widowhood—a spark of attraction. Thinking she’ll never see him again, she succumbs to temptation, only to discover that little “spark” is more like a raging wildfire.

One weekend is all he asks. One weekend to prove there’s more between them than just blazing hot sex…

Warning: Sometimes, love happens in an instant, but it takes a lot of sexin’ up to make one stubborn woman a believer.

Charli put the ledger in the desk drawer and wandered down the hallway to the kitchen. She wasn’t really hungry, and knowing Drew would likely be out for the evening, she didn’t feel like cooking a meal.

The house was quiet. Too quiet. She decided to take a long bath.

However, soaking in a bubble bath didn’t soothe her restless edges. She dressed, throwing on jeans and a tight tee, then pulled on her scuffed boots, telling herself all the while that she’d hit the bar, eat a bowl of Jake’s greasy chili and head straight home.

She wasn’t even thinking about whether she’d see Lonny there. Not much, anyway. She certainly didn’t want to see him there chatting up another woman. It wasn’t until she turned in to the parking lot that she realized her heart was thudding inside her chest at just the thought of his tall, muscled frame.

Slowing, she circled the saloon, trying to talk herself out of doing something reckless, because in the mood she was in, she knew she was looking for trouble.

On the pass around the back side of the saloon, which faced the only motel in town, she braked hard.

Drew’s truck was parked in front of one of the rooms. She set her parking brake and turned off the ignition, curiosity too piqued to ignore. She hadn’t wanted him enough to invite him back into her bed, but she’d never even considered he might have needs he’d have to take care of with someone else.

Thankful for the falling darkness, she walked quietly to the door and leaned toward it. She heard muffled laughter. Light gleamed in the crack between the curtains, and even though she knew it was wrong, she couldn’t resist trying to see inside.

She edged toward the gap and stared.

Drew was naked, his body completely revealed in profile. She knew all too well he was a good-looking man, and breathed deeply at the sight of his burly frame, coated with dark hair on his chest and legs. His heavy cock was erect, tipped toward a pretty brunette Charli didn’t recognize, who was gazing up at Drew, her lower lip held between her teeth.

Drew’s hand reached and grasped the woman’s head, fingers digging into the thick strands, and he pulled her down, spreading his legs while she knelt in front of him. His face was hard, cheeks stark, his gaze hungry slits as he bracketed the woman’s cheeks and forced her closer.

Not that the woman seemed to mind. A moan filled the air. Her mouth opened and sank down Drew’s cock, and Charli couldn’t help staring as the woman bobbed forward and back, sucking hard.

Her body was sweetly curved, lush where Charli’s was lean. Charli could understand why Drew would want the pretty brunette. She looked soft—everywhere. Her breasts were ample and swayed with her movements.

When Drew pushed the woman away, Charli leaned closer to the window, her attention riveted. Her own breaths were jagged pants; her panties were dampening between her thighs.

Drew urged the woman onto her knees at the edge of the bed, then cupped her buttocks, parted them, and guided his cock into her pussy while he thumbed her little asshole.

Shocked, Charli drew a quick, harsh breath. She stepped back, ready to flee in case anyone found her there, panting like a pervert. Her whole body quivered with heat, with emotions she didn’t understand.

She wasn’t upset with Drew, not really. Intellectually, she couldn’t blame him. But there had been a part of her that had thought, given time, they’d find a way to come together.

She’d been fooling herself. So had he. He needed someone in his life who excited him into a primal hunger. It wasn’t her. It never would be. Drew was wrong to think they could settle for anything less.

Tamping down the tears filling her eyes, she turned, only to find her way blocked by a wall of muscle.

Embarrassment had her ducking her head and pushing past the figure, but strong hands gripped her shoulders. “Slow down, Charli. Come with me.”

Lonny’s voice broke through her panic.

“Crap.” She let him walk her down the row of rooms to another door. Holding her against his side, he unlocked it, then shoved her gently inside.

Charli turned away, unable to meet his gaze. “That was embarrassing.” And a huge understatement.

Footsteps came up behind her. “Which part? Watching Drew screw another girl or gettin’ caught?” Hands turned her toward him.

Unwilling to be seen as a coward, she lifted her chin and glared defiantly back. “I don’t like you.”

He grunted, his expression neutral. “Doesn’t mean you aren’t hot for me—or at least for what I can give you.”

The gravel in his voice made her toes curl. “And what would that be?” she scoffed, even though her body was way ahead of her mind and beginning to melt.

His eyelids fell, darkening his green eyes to black. “Sweetheart, I’ve never seen a woman more in need of sexin’ up.”

Saturday Excerpt

Randi Alexander — Sat, 18 Feb 2012 19:31:25 +0000

Happy Saturday! I’m sharing a sexy excerpt from Chase and Seduction.

Backing up to the bed, Trace pulled her with him and sat, her breasts now at eye level. “Beautiful, Reno. You’re beautiful all over.” He licked a circle around her other areola, then took her into his mouth, holding the nipple in his teeth while teasing it with his tongue.

She grabbed his shoulders to keep upright as pulses of sensual delight traveled from her breast, through her belly, and down low to her core. “Oh, yes, that feels wonderful.” Watching his lips on her, feeling his soft hair brushing her skin was nearly sinful, and totally heart wrenching. How could she be so attached to this man so quickly? He used his fingers to arouse the other nipple, and the two contrasting motions played a crazy game of sensual tag. Her cunt contracted, and her pussy lips moistened.

Drawing a deep breath, he murmured, “Baby, I can smell your scent.” He kissed the deep valley between her breasts. “You want me now, don’t you?” He looked up at her, licking the swell of each breast.

“I want you now, and all night, Chase.”

“Show me. Get naked.”

She stepped back and slid her panties down, bending forward to show him another angle of her breasts, and she could almost see him salivating. When she grasped her shoe, he growled, “Uh uh. Those stay on.”

“Mmm. Kinky.” She peeled off her panties and fired them slingshot-style at his chest.

He caught them and brought them to his face, breathing in deeply. “Mine.”

A delightful shiver coursed through her. “My panties?” she asked breathlessly.

“Your pussy.” With blurring speed, he stood, snatched her up, and had her laying on the bed, with him on all fours over her.

“I’m dizzy,” she teased.

“You’re gonna be a hell of a lot dizzier in a few minutes, beautiful.” He suckled her nipples languidly, each tug of his mouth echoing in her pussy with hot bursts of lust that swelled her lips. He sucked at one breast, then the other, back and forth, a clever foreplay of his hot mouth on her, then a moist, cooling sensation as he moved to the other. After a minute, her hips responded to each long pull, thrusting upward, wanting more.

Chase nibbled a leisurely path down her stomach to her belly button. His tongue in her ticklish spot caused ripples of desire to shoot directly to her core. He kissed lower, easing down her belly, driving her crazy with impatience, but wild with anticipation. He reached her mound. “Open for me, baby. I want to see every inch of you.”

You can read the first chapter of Chase and Seduction here.

Hmmm. I know what I want to do tonight! What are your plans for the weekend?
Randi
RandiAlexander.com

I Have a Cover!

sherryjames — Fri, 17 Feb 2012 05:01:06 +0000

Yee-haw! I’m excited to share with you the cover for my new book COWBOY I.O.U. coming soon from Prairie Muse Publishing. I don’t have a release date yet, but I’ll keep you posted. This book has been with me for a long time so I’m really excited to finally see Lynda and Holt’s story getting its day on the bookshelf! And I promise you, Holt is one hot saddle bronc rider! I can’t wait for you to meet him.

But in the meantime, here is a preliminary blurb to tease you just bit! Ain’t I ornery?!

Keep an eye on my web site for updates!

COWBOY I.O.U.

Professional rodeo cowboy Holt Warren prefers winning on the rodeo circuit to punching a time clock to earn his living. But when he literally crashes into western artist Chesney Lockwood, he finds himself in one heck of a fix. Not only does he owe her big bucks for a painting he accidentally destroyed, but the blond-haired filly is tempting his hormones and screwing up his focus to make the National Finals Rodeo in December. Somehow he’s got to kick Chesney out of his head, but that’s pretty hard to do when the woman is sharing the front seat of his truck, and sleeping just inches away in his camper bunk.

Chesney Lockwood is hell-bent on making her own way in the art world without her daddy’s financial backing, or a man dictating her every move. Things are looking good until sexy cowboy Holt Warren ruins one of her most expensive paintings. Within seconds she sees her profits plummeting, her rent going unpaid, and her vow to steer clear of cowboy temptation going south. And if that isn’t enough, a summer storm totals her minivan, leaving her stranded with no way to make the next art show. Desperate for a ride, Chesney agrees to Holt’s crazy I.O.U. to trade a lift in his truck for the money he owes her.

What starts out as a means to pay off a debt turns into a battle of the sexes for two solitary hearts determined to stay that way. But with every spin of the tires, Chesney and Holt discover goin’ down the road together not only makes for one hot ride, but just might lead to the ultimate romantic payoff.

February’s word is NEW: Releases, Covers, Contracts & NEW COWBOYS!

Author Cat Johnson — Thu, 16 Feb 2012 06:38:03 +0000

TWO NEW RELEASES

I’ve already blogged about the release of the Texas Two-Step sequel TEXAS TWO-STEP:COWBOY SHUFFLE, which is hot tie-down roper Shooter’s story.

Well February was a busy month and I had another release just a week later, this one the sequel to A Cowboy for Christmas called VALENTINE COWBOYS, a M/F/M menage featuring the two young ranch hands Justus and Dakota.

NEW COVER ART

Have you seen the cover for the Cleis anthology up for preorder on Amazon.com? It just went up about a week ago and it’s yummy! AND the print book is discounted for preorder sales. $8 for a $14.95 book featuring 15 cowboy authors including yours truly, Randi Alexander and edited by our own Delilah Devlin, with a forward by the lovely Lorelei James.

NEW CONTRACTS

If you read the big reveal on my website you already know, if not then this will be a surprise…I recently signed a 3 book deal with Kensington Brava for a new cowboy series! It is quite the tale on how that came about so hop on over and read it if you haven’t already.

AND

I recently finished writing book 5 in the Studs in Spurs series, titled FLANKED, and just received word from my Samhain Publishing editor that she loved it, was thrilled that Garret has a story, and is talking to the powers that be about a September release. So not too long a wait for you Studs in Spurs fans. That’s good news!

NEW COWBOYS

So the above brings us to the new cowboys in my life. You’ve met Garret James in the first Studs in Spurs books. He’s Chase’s best friend and the one responsible for Chase’s “marriage” to Leesa in RIDE.

For the Kensington proposal, I created a whole new series tentatively named OKLAHOMA NIGHTS. In book 1, ONE NIGHT WITH A COWBOY, there is a hot new cowboy, Tucker. He’s part cowboy (a champion bull rider), part military man (former Army), so he has all my favorite things rolled into one. He also has a side to him that will surprise you and the heroine!

So that’s it, my news, and as a thanks for sticking around until the end of this long post, here’s an excerpt from my new VALENTINE COWBOYS. Enjoy!

VALENTINE COWBOYS

The sequel to A COWBOY FOR CHRISTMAS

Ranch hands Justus White and Dakota Washburn have known each other forever, or at least since fifth grade when Melody Zane, the coolest girl in school, gave them both valentines. That Valentines Day ended in a school yard fight, and a lifelong friendship. 12 years later, they now both live and work on the Maverick ranch and have vowed never to let a girl get between them again… Until they meet Melody in a bar, all grown up. Then they decide to preserve the friendship maybe the best thing to do is to keep her between them.

Excerpt:

From the rear of the dimly lit bar, Dakota watched Justus standing close to Melody as she sipped on her beer—the beer Justus had bought her. She seemed to be drinking it in the most seductive way possible. How could Justus not see she was the same girl she had been way back then? She’d probably be happy to see them rolling around on the beer-splattered floor fighting over her while the rest of the folks in the bar cheered them on. She’d probably be wearing a big old grin the entire time, just like she’d done in fifth grade when she’d orchestrated their first and only fight.

Well he, for one, was not going to allow it to happen, no matter what Justus said or did. Scowling, Dakota walked back to the pool table. Justus glanced up, and must have caught on to his unhappiness from the expression on his face, because his smile disappeared.

Justus’s brows drew down in a frown as he looked at Dakota. He turned back to Melody and hooked a thumb in the direction of the restrooms. “Ah, Melody, I’ll be back in a sec. Okay?”

“Sure.” She smiled sweetly.

Bitch.

“Stop looking so pissed off.” Justus leaned close and hissed.

Dakota’s eyebrows shot up. “Then you stop acting as if she’s changed.”

“Whatever. Try and be nice while I’m gone.” Justus let out a huff of breath and pushed past Dakota, heading back to the bathrooms.

“Whatever,” Dakota mimicked Justus after he’d walked away. That had to be the most annoying word in the English language, and the fact his best friend was saying it to him in such a nasty tone was proof that Melody was trouble. Nothing but trouble.

Luckily, Dakota was good at dealing with problems. Hell, he dealt with difficult issues all damn day, and sometimes all night, at the ranch. Compared to stubborn young bulls and a couple of hundred cows about to give birth, one stuck-up chick shouldn’t be too hard to handle.

Dakota made his way back to where he’d left his beer on the table and picked the mug up. Taking a swallow, he leaned against the pool table again—these new going-out boots weren’t broken in yet and they were starting to pinch.

“So, you’re back and looking for work.” They’d covered this topic already, but Dakota enjoyed it so much the first time, he decided to revisit the subject.

“You don’t like me very much, do you, Dakota?”

“Nope.” He shook his head and sipped at his beer.

She laughed. “Well at least you’re honest about it.”

“I’m always honest, which is more than you were when you invited Justus and I to fight over you in front of the whole fifth grade.”

“First of all, I can’t believe you’re actually still upset over something that happened in fifth grade. And second, I was being honest back then. I really didn’t know which one of you I liked best.”

Dakota’s brows shot up. “So you thought you’d see which one of us could beat the crap out of the other? Then what? You’d suddenly like the winner best? Nice.”

“No.” Her dark brows knit in a frown. “I really wanted to kiss you both. You two are the ones who started fighting. I never wanted that.”

“Bullshit. You smiled through the whole thing.” He knocked the brim of his hat back a bit so he could better glare at her.

“Because I couldn’t believe you both liked me enough to fight over me.” She put her mug down on the table with a splash and planted her fists on her hips.

“You’re right, fifth grade is long gone. That shit doesn’t matter now.” He made direct eye contact with her to make sure she knew he was serious. “But I’m telling you one thing—Justus and I are closer than brothers now. We’re not ten years old any more and we sure as hell ain’t gonna be fighting over you again. So if you’ve got any ideas in your pretty little head about pitting us against each other in some sort of competition for you, you can just forget about it.”

Movement caught his eye and he turned to see Justus standing nearby, watching them. Dakota spun to face him, silently daring him to contradict what he’d said.

“Dakota’s right, Melody. He and I aren’t going to be fighting over anything.” Justus swung his glance from Melody to Dakota. “But I’m sure Melody has more weighing on her mind right now. Her interview for one thing. She won’t have time to be worrying about us. Right?” He shot her a look.

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Who’s Out of Control-The cowboy, the victim or the villain?

desiree01holt — Wed, 15 Feb 2012 13:25:30 +0000

Cole Martin, the cowboy/sheriff, came home to High Ridge to find peace after two tours as a Marine. Dana Moretti came back to High Ridge to unlock the secrets of a past that had her frozen in time. The villain had lived in High Ridge all his life, hiding behind the familiar friendly face. When their lives come together everything spins Out of Control.
Twenty five years ago Carrie Nolan was the only victim to survive the killing spree of a pedophile. Her life has been frozen in time, and not even a move to a distant city or a name change has healed the wounds that left her emotionally and sexually scarred. Determined finally to reclaim her life, Carrie returns to High Ridge as multi-published crime novelist, Dana Moretti, in hope of asking the questions that would lay her nightmares to rest. Sheriff Cole Landry, came to High Ridge to escape the horrors of Iraq and Afghanistan, but soon after the sexy author arrives and starts poking her nose into matters best forgotten, his town once again becomes the hunting ground of a ruthless killer. She’s sure it’s the same man, and he’s not all that convinced she’s wrong. Keeping Dana safe means keeping her close—very close—under his protection, under him. Between her sexual need for Cole and the danger lurking behind every stranger’s face, her world is spinning out of control.

“Can I help you?”
The deep voice that spoke to her sent shock waves through her. She whirled, her knees shaking. Oh, hell. It was him. The man in the truck. Wearing a uniform, for god’s sake.
“I have to say,” he went on, “you look a lot better when you aren’t soaked through by the rain.”
Dana’s legs were shaking, keeping time with the butterflies doing the rumba in her stomach. The first thing she thought was cowboy. He had the easy, relaxed yet alert stance she’d seen on men around horses and cattle. And his feet were shod in square-toed Western boots. She was sure his hat would be a Stetson.
But the way his eyes assessed her, the analytical gaze…military. Some kind of covert ops.
A dangerous combination in a man.
Dangerous to women. And to people who were misled by his friendly smile.
He was somewhere in his mid-thirties. At least six-four, broad shouldered, and lean hipped, the khaki of the sheriff’s uniform looking as if it were custom tailored for him. His face was all angles and planes, with deep-set, whiskey-colored eyes framed by dark brows and lashes. Even in her state of high anxiety, she couldn’t miss the sexuality that radiated from him.
The ultimate alpha male.
And trouble.
I’ll bet he has to beat the women off with a nightstick. Well, for sure he won’t have to worry about me. Oh, wait. After last night, he probably thinks I’m a nutcase anyway.
She wet her lips. “I gave my card to your…to the woman at the window. I’m Dana Moretti.”
“I know who you are.” His smile, like John Garrett’s, was professional and didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve been expecting you. Come on.”
He swung the door wide, the muscles in his tanned arms flexing with the movement.
“If you’d identified yourself last night,” she told him, trying to keep the acid out of her voice, “I might have been more willing to accept a ride. I don’t make it a habit of jumping into trucks with strange men.”
His body brushed hers as he let the door swing shut, and lightning shot through her. What the hell? She knew what unexpected lust was. She often wrote about it, but it wasn’t a feeling familiar to her personally. Certainly not in a situation like this. Maybe this was a bad idea, after all.
“So, what kind of men do you jump in trucks with?”

Guest Em Petrova Shares the Naughty Things Cowboys Do

Randi Alexander — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 05:01:45 +0000

Howdy! In celebration of my latest release Outlaws of Love, a hot new historical western ménage a trois, I’d like to share the top five naughty things cowboys do. First of all, here’s some eye candy to get your pulse racing…

*clears throat* Okay, let’s see if I can think coherently.

Tip their hats and say “how’s it goin’ ma’am?” –just like the Jewel song Do You, (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TOVzkz9cLwI) these rugged shoot ‘em ups do that thing with their thumbs against the brims of their hats that make a woman’s knees turn to jelly
Glare –Something about a piercing glare from beneath a hat brim sends out a warning to everyone in their vicinity. Although we ladies flock to that kind of alpha male, right?
Fistfight – who doesn’t love to watch a couple pissed-off cowboys taking a swing at each other? As one friend put it to me when I told him I was writing a fight scene between cowboys, “Go for the one-punch, Em. We cowboys do it right the first time!”
Hook their thumbs in their belt buckles – watching a man hook his thumb in that belt only draws attention to his hips swathed in denim, or denim with chaps. Who doesn’t want to ogle that?
Care for animals –Because their lives are spent around cattle and horses, they appreciate how to care for them. Does this mean they’re in tune with their softer sides? I’d like to think so. At least the cowboys in my story Outlaws of Love are!

What drives you crazy about a rough and tumble type? I’d love to hear from you. And please read on for an excerpt of my new release!

Em is giving away a gift certificate to Loose ID to one lucky commenter.

Blurb of OUTLAWS OF LOVE:

Upon traveling west to marry, Annabelle Stephens longed to leave her nickname of Sweetheart Annie and the strict rules of Boston society behind, but the taboo freedom she faces wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. When a sexy outlaw storms into her rented room and kidnaps her, she’s embroiled in a dangerous game with not one man, but two.

Until now Xander Hollis wanted one thing—or maybe two—to stop the Southern Gorge Railroad from stealing the homesteaders’ land, and to act on his desires with his partner in crime James. Like Robin Hoods of the old west, he and James embark on a mission to rob from the rich and give to the poor. When he refuses to let go of the woman who could identify him, he finds he’s in true danger. Danger of losing his heart to the heiress of the very railroad corporation he struggles to bring down.

EXCERPT of OUTLAWS OF LOVE- RATED ADULT

James leaned in and drew a deep breath, his nose inches from her hair. She tensed in response, but her body throbbed. Her nipples tightened almost painfully. Xander gripped her waist and plucked her off her feet, settling her astride in the saddle. She tried not to wiggle to ease the ache between her thighs even as she avoided James’s steady gaze.

“What is your mother like?” She hoped to distract him from her need, though the spark was quickly growing to an inferno.

“You’re going to love everything about my ma,” Xander said, vaulting up behind her. He tucked her tight against his chest with his familiar arm locked around her waist. James crossed to his horse and loosened the rope keeping it from running away.

“His mother’s the best cook in the world.”

“Better than yours, James.”

“No lie.” The man hitched his foot into the stirrup with the barest of winces and seated himself atop Switchback.

Xander probed her ear with his tongue, and his cock jammed harder against her buttocks. “James’s mother burns everything.”

“I used to pretend to eat my meal and then ran like hell across the fields to get to the Hollis Ranch in time for supper.” He set his heels into his horse, and they took off.

Xander didn’t immediately follow but nuzzled her throat. “You’re so goddamned alluring, Annabelle. I need you.”

She twisted, threw her arms around his neck and drew him down for a kiss. The instant their lips brushed, a series of explosions detonated in her core. Her nerve endings pinged. Her breasts grew heavy with need. And her pussy pulsated, begging to be stroked. Stretched. Filled.

“Please, Xander. Touch me.”

“Mmm.” His chest rumbled against her side. Gliding a hand over her knee and up her inner thigh, he located the V of her legs. Through the fabric of her dress, he rubbed her heated folds.

Grasping her skirt, she hitched it up to expose her pussy to his fingers. She stole a glance at James’s back. He was still riding, either giving them a moment of privacy or oblivious to the fact they weren’t following.

Xander’s hard lips commanded hers. At the first touch, she opened her mouth to him, and his tongue swept inside. He tasted the walls of her mouth, his tongue working deeper against hers. When he strummed the bundle of nerves between her thighs, she gasped.

Quivering with need, she writhed against him, seeking more of his maddening touch. The blaze of desire in her belly was uncontrollable. If she didn’t get release soon, she’d go insane.

She’d tossed out her inhibitions and admitted that she craved his touch. When he stroked her, she lost all sense of time and place, which couldn’t be a good thing. She was about to arrive at the Hollis family ranch, where people would surround them day and night. And James couldn’t be far away, could he?

Xander tore his mouth away. “How long will it take, baby doll?” How many times do I have to do this” — he circled her clit once, twice — “to make you come on my fingers?”

“Oooh.” Flashes of delight sparked behind her eyes, and her world narrowed to include only Xander’s leather-and-musk scent and the pressure of his callused fingers against her sensitive tissues.

Even when the hoofbeats of James’s horse sounded nearby, she couldn’t open her eyes and make Xander stop. He parted her thighs with one hand, exposing her completely to the air and surely to James’s gaze.

Xander’s words drowned out all cares. “That’s it, baby. Come for me. Feels good, doesn’t it? Your pussy is so pretty, all tight and wet. Your clit so swollen. You want to come for me, don’t you?”

In a blinding burst, she splintered. Wave after wave of blissful sensation washed over her. She clung to Xander, her gasps suddenly swallowed by his kiss. He ground her nubbin into her body, extending her release. Cream soaked his fingers.

James gave a soft moan.

And Annabelle’s eyes shot open. The man was mounted not five feet from them, his horse dancing slightly. James’s gaze was riveted between her thighs.

Xander lifted his head, looked right at James, and thrust his finger deep into her body.

A haze of rapture settled over her as another orgasm broke over her. The waves pounded her, the pinnacle sharper and more fulfilling than the last. Sensation ripped through her, and she stopped breathing for a minute. When she cried out, James’s gaze flashed to hers, caught and held. As her release pounded through her muscles, she couldn’t look away if she wanted. She was trapped again — between Xander’s adept fingers and James’s stimulating stare.

Em Petrova

~where words mean so much more~

www.empetrova.com

BUY OUTLAWS OF LOVE http://www.loose-id.com/Outlaws-of-Love.aspx

Sexy not trying

Denise McDonald ~ — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 15:21:53 +0000

One of my girlfriends asked me one day, “What is it about Cowboys…” You see, she doesn’t quite understand my affinity for the jeans clad, hat wearing men. When I picked my jaw up off the floor, I asked her, “how can you not see it?” She just shook her head. She likes a certain *type* guy. To me, it’s the kind of guy who tries too hard to be manly, too hard to be sexy, etc. He seems to have to work at being hot and desirable. I’m not saying that driving a sports car can’t be hot, but I much prefer a big ass pick-up that takes you to work, to church and to play. All purpose in every way.

And let me say, while yes, she and I are still friends (I over look her lack of cowboy vision and she over looks my… well we don’t need to list my foibles now, do we?!) I gave up trying to explain it to her. But I know you can/will understand! There is something that makes our blood sing when we see the guy in jeans, boots, hat and button down shirt, driving his truck, maybe with a dog in the back. But on just one look that can’t necessarily do it—I mean yes, it can, but why? Because we know what that one picture represents. The hardworking man.

A cowboy’s not trying to be sexy. No, he’s just doing what needs to be done. He’s working to provide for his family. He helps out those who need it or needs a friend. He’s right in the thick of it all. Always. To me a cowboy creates his own sense of community because it needs to be done and it’s who he is. To me that’s what makes him damn sexier that just about any other man. Without trying. Without pretenses. Just by being…

Still, (as I have mentioned many times before) it doesn’t hurt that he looks damn fine in those jeans.

Let me ask you though, everyone has a *type* that they gravitate toward. Who does it for you? (yes, this is a cowboy blog… but we can have a variety of interests. For instance, I just watched Full Metal Jousting on the History channel… I like me some jousters for sure! And don’t get me started on a man in uniform… ) What is it about the man that makes you drool? What makes you look at someone as if they are crazy for not seeing what you see? And do they come by in naturally or do they have to work at it sometimes…