I'm Joining the Ladies at Silken Sheets and Seduction
What a great time it is.
I've been asked to join the gorgeous ladies at Silken Sheets and Seduction where I'll have two regular blog dates every month, so I'm going to have to get a little inventive.
You wouldn't think that would be difficult for an author, but I always find it much harder to write non-fiction. This week's wasn't difficult at all, though. I just spoke about the cowboy in my head.
Why don't you drop by and see what I had to say?
In the meantime, here's an excerpt from one of my cowboy stories:
From the darkened protection of the corner of the room, Flynn watched the curvy little brunette with the bubbly hair bounce around, microphone in hand, wailing her heart out with obvious enjoyment. The sight of her large rounded breasts as they jiggled merrily along with the tune heated his stomach and threatened to move lower. She’d flicked several glances in his direction, and each time she did, he sank farther into the protective shadows by the wall, conscious she couldn’t see the left side of his face too clearly in the blue-hued lighting. Cute and friendly she might seem, but he knew from experience she would change her tune once she got a load of his scars. Women always did.
At the age of eighteen he’d considered himself a lady-killer—as most guys did—but he had been full of himself, knowing he was a good-looking son of a bitch. Never had a single problem or gave a second thought. If he wanted, he took, with great enjoyment and relish. With his unusually pale blue, bold eyes, dark brown hair, and chiseled features, he’d caught the attention of women of all ages. The fact he’d been brought up riding rodeo and working a ranch since he was born just added into the long, lean tone of his body. What nature hadn’t given him naturally, hard work and a tough upbringing had molded to perfection. When he’d joined the Special Forces, he’d honed it beyond perfection. He wasn’t overly tall, just under six feet, but his entire physique gave him presence. As a young man, he’d known it and reveled in it. Ego had driven him hard.
A golden boy, given the gift of a beautiful face, a bright mind, and a naturally lean body. He’d been destined to marry the glamour girl, crowned king and queen of the prom…everyone in town believed he had a long and happy marriage ahead of him with Rachel. Personally, he’d had a few qualms about the woman’s intelligence, but at the time and with the shallowness of youth, he had wallowed in her perfect beauty and the envy of the other boys. Celebrations had been wild at their engagement party before he went off to training camp. Faithful, he had returned to her time and again after each assignment. He’d had ambition, and she’d had plans. The pair were well-suited.
It didn’t matter. It all changed with the slash of a knife. His looks were destroyed, his mind rebelled, and the glamour girl ran screaming for the hills. He’d had the same reaction from women ever since.
He tipped the bottle of beer up to his mouth and stared down the length of it at the pretty brunette. Her breasts were interesting—got a nice little heat going in the pit of his belly—but his preference was her pert little ass as she swayed in perfect rhythm to the song she was murdering. She caught his eye again, gave a broad smile and a twitch of her eyebrows. A definite invitation.
He drew farther into the shadows.
I've been asked to join the gorgeous ladies at Silken Sheets and Seduction where I'll have two regular blog dates every month, so I'm going to have to get a little inventive.
You wouldn't think that would be difficult for an author, but I always find it much harder to write non-fiction. This week's wasn't difficult at all, though. I just spoke about the cowboy in my head.
Why don't you drop by and see what I had to say?
In the meantime, here's an excerpt from one of my cowboy stories:
From the darkened protection of the corner of the room, Flynn watched the curvy little brunette with the bubbly hair bounce around, microphone in hand, wailing her heart out with obvious enjoyment. The sight of her large rounded breasts as they jiggled merrily along with the tune heated his stomach and threatened to move lower. She’d flicked several glances in his direction, and each time she did, he sank farther into the protective shadows by the wall, conscious she couldn’t see the left side of his face too clearly in the blue-hued lighting. Cute and friendly she might seem, but he knew from experience she would change her tune once she got a load of his scars. Women always did.
At the age of eighteen he’d considered himself a lady-killer—as most guys did—but he had been full of himself, knowing he was a good-looking son of a bitch. Never had a single problem or gave a second thought. If he wanted, he took, with great enjoyment and relish. With his unusually pale blue, bold eyes, dark brown hair, and chiseled features, he’d caught the attention of women of all ages. The fact he’d been brought up riding rodeo and working a ranch since he was born just added into the long, lean tone of his body. What nature hadn’t given him naturally, hard work and a tough upbringing had molded to perfection. When he’d joined the Special Forces, he’d honed it beyond perfection. He wasn’t overly tall, just under six feet, but his entire physique gave him presence. As a young man, he’d known it and reveled in it. Ego had driven him hard.
A golden boy, given the gift of a beautiful face, a bright mind, and a naturally lean body. He’d been destined to marry the glamour girl, crowned king and queen of the prom…everyone in town believed he had a long and happy marriage ahead of him with Rachel. Personally, he’d had a few qualms about the woman’s intelligence, but at the time and with the shallowness of youth, he had wallowed in her perfect beauty and the envy of the other boys. Celebrations had been wild at their engagement party before he went off to training camp. Faithful, he had returned to her time and again after each assignment. He’d had ambition, and she’d had plans. The pair were well-suited.
It didn’t matter. It all changed with the slash of a knife. His looks were destroyed, his mind rebelled, and the glamour girl ran screaming for the hills. He’d had the same reaction from women ever since.
He tipped the bottle of beer up to his mouth and stared down the length of it at the pretty brunette. Her breasts were interesting—got a nice little heat going in the pit of his belly—but his preference was her pert little ass as she swayed in perfect rhythm to the song she was murdering. She caught his eye again, gave a broad smile and a twitch of her eyebrows. A definite invitation.
He drew farther into the shadows.
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