A big howdy to everyone! I’m happy to be here today, talking about one of my favorite topics—men in chaps.
Today I was plotting my next cowboy story. When plotting, I ask myself questions about characters. Besides hair color, build (all right, we know there are never wimpy cowboys with concave chests), and occupation, I push my characters to tell me about their dreams and desires.
I ask them about their family history, right down to that uncle who got arrested for selling moonshine out of the back of his truck during Prohibition. And I pressure my characters to share their hobbies.
The conversation goes something like this:
Me: “Sooo, what do you do for fun?”
Cowboy: “Controlling 2000-lb. beasts isn’t fun?”
Me: “Sure, but that’s your job. What do you do outside of the PBR arena?”
I wait. And wait. I’m about to jump up and down with frustration, when he finally tells me he does extreme sports. But what if he busts himself up jumping cliffs on skis and can’t tour next year?
That will never do.
Wait—he’s a woodworker. No, he can’t do that. What if he cuts off a finger? Then he can’t ride.
What in the world does a cowboy do in his spare time besides sex up his gal and find interesting ways to use his knot-tying skills? What do you think he does? I’d love to hear from you, and maybe your hobby suggestion will make its way into my next l’il ole book!
Now I’ll leave you with a sexy, never-before-seen excerpt of HARD RIDIN’, my latest ménage from Samhain Publishing. Enjoy!
Jens circled the Ransom house on horseback twice before gaining enough gumption to dismount. He’d never admit it, but he was crapping his pants with fear. Fear that he’d been stupid to suggest the arrangement between him, Laurel and Holden. She’d spent half the morning in Holden’s arms—could she have made her decision before Jens could even put up a fight?
He deserved a go with her. A chance to seduce her properly and use his body to prove how worthy he was of her love.
The purplish-gray shadows of twilight spread across the yard. Hundred-year-old flowers still bloomed around the porch steps, the sleepy heads nodding on their stems. The fresh scents of grass and a wisp of smoke greeted him. Laurel must have been hauling and burning brush again.
Pride infused Jens. She hadn’t been born into the country life, but she fit it like a cowgirl in tight chaps. It seemed she’d grown up working outside and tilling soil. She’d make a perfect farmer’s wife.
He just hoped that farmer was him.
Drawing a deep breath, Jens climbed the porch steps. The boards sagged under his boots, and he made a mental note to reinforce them as soon as he found time. He almost felt bad renting the old house to her—she deserved so much better. But she’d never agree to stay for free.
A faint yellow glow from the window spilled onto the floorboards and slanted across his boots. His heart thumped madly. Either this would be the best night of his life or the end of his universe.
“Never been a coward and I won’t start now,” he muttered. He lifted a hand and rapped on
the thick, walnut door.
It opened almost immediately. Laurel stood in the flare of light. “Come in here.” Her tone was dusky, breathless. She twisted a hand in the front of his chambray shirt and tugged him over the threshold.
Wrapping an arm around her, he kicked the door shut behind him. She was warm and slightly moist, as if she’d recently taken a shower. Her hair was dry and fluffy, the ends tickling his fingers.
Their gazes locked, and a million words passed between them. Relief rang out in his core.
She hadn’t been completely swayed over by Holden. Jens had a chance, which meant he hadn’t been a total ass when he suggested she date both.
She stretched onto tiptoe and turned her face up for his kiss. He dipped his lips to hers at once. The bright scents of citrus filled his head, and something deeper, earthier.
With a groan, he angled his head and thrust his tongue into her mouth. She opened wide for him, tongue meeting him stroke for stroke. His cock bulged against his fly, demanding exit. Heat clawed his insides.
Spinning her around, he pressed her back against the door, sagging at the knees and grinding his erection against her. She inhaled sharply.
This was a test. He’d never gotten further than this with her—she always pushed him away. He was pushing her hard and fast, without much warm-up. But tonight of all nights, he needed to know where they stood. If she sent him away from her bed, he’d walk away forever, though it would kill him to do it.
She ran her hands up his spine to his nape. In one swift flick, she knocked his hat off. The dusty cowboy hat hit the floor, and Jens’s grin spread over her lips.
“Now, I had designs to wear that to bed.”
She shuddered. “Just you and me and a cowboy hat? Sounds perfect.” Her heated whisper ignited him. Desire exploded in his groin and spread swiftly up to claim his heart.
He stared deep into her eyes. “You sure about this, Laurel? You understand what it is you’re accepting?”
She leaned in and bit his lower lip, as lightning fast as a kitten attacking a strand of yarn. “Shut up and take me to bed, cowboy.”
Rumbling his pleasure, he scooped her off her feet and strode toward the stairs. Having helped her move in, he knew which bedroom she occupied. As he swept her up the stairs, she tasted him—nibbling his earlobe, swirling her tongue over his throat.
Thanks for reading! And thank you to the Wild and Wicked authors for hosting me today! Don’t forget to share your insights into a cowboy’s hobbies.
~where words mean so much more~