Who here likes cowboys? *raises hand*
I write both historical and contemporary westerns. Erotic westerns but also sweeter. My historical’s are on the sweet side. To me it wasn’t normal to have them going at it hardcore with a historical background. LOL
Anyway, what do we love about cowboys?
Me. I like the way they talk. The ma’am, darlin’, honey make my panties melt. I also like the way they handle themselves. A real man is tough as nails when it comes to the things he needs to take care of, but is as soft as a fluffy bunny with his lover.
There is something special about the cowboy and I try to capture it in every book I write. I hope I’m getting there if not there already.
What do you like about cowboys?
Comment here to win a copy of my brand new release coming 6/5 called Make Mine a Cowboy. I’m going to put a blurb and excerpt below. I'll pick a winner Monday morning at 8am central time. Good luck!
Mesa Arraguso writes about hot cowboys for a living. Being a romance writer has it perks and its drawbacks. She spends a lot of time alone in front of her computer, but she gets to fantasize about incredibly hot men wearing cowboy boots and Stetsons. While visiting San Antonio, Texas for a writer’s conference, she finds herself stranded on the back roads of Bandera only to be rescued by one of the most gorgeous men she’s ever encountered, be it fantasy or for real.
Joel Young is a cowboy. From the top of his Stetson to the tip of his dirty cowboy boots, he’s cowboy through and through. Along with rescuing women when they do silly things like running out of gas miles from town on a dirt road, he spends his days herding cattle, fixing fences and breaking horses.
Can one handsome cowboy and a city-girl from LA find common ground is the Hill Country long enough to see beyond a quick fling?
A moment later a tap, tap, tap on her window startled her out of her thoughts. She jumped and screamed as a face appeared near her door. Blue eyes with long lashes stared back beneath a black cowboy hat. Black hair ruffled slightly with the wind.
“Ma’am? Are you all right?”
“You need to get this car out of the water. You’ll be washed away. It’s rising fast.”
“I can’t. I’m out of gas.”
“Open the door.”
“Hell, no. Do I look crazy to you?” she asked, her voice shrill with terror.
“Trust me. If I were a serial killer, I wouldn’t be out in this shit trying to find women to abduct. I’m going to help you, but you need to get out of the car first before we’re both swept away.”
Mesa bit her lip. Should she trust him?
“All right.” She eased open the door to find the water almost reached the bottom of the car. The cowboy pulled the door the rest of the way as she grabbed her purse.
“We have to hurry,” he said, offering her a hand to help her from the car. “Let me help you. This water is rushing pretty fast.”
A red horse stood patiently several feet away with its head down, riding out the storm the only way horses knew how. A cowboy on a real horse out here in the middle of nowhere? Surely, it’s safe. I mean serial killers don’t ride horses, right?
She stepped aside to allow him into the room. “Just set it on the bed and I’ll unpack it in a minute.” She told him to sit on the edge of the bed as she took a spot between his spread thighs. She exhaled forcibly through her lips so she could focus on the task at hand and not his hard thighs now encasing her lower half. The cut on his lip didn’t look too deep. With her finger inside the cloth, she dabbed at the cut.
“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”
He winced as she dabbed again. It had to hurt, she knew but all she could think about was kissing those full lips. She wanted to see his eyes dark with desire. Feel his hands on her bare flesh. Have those lips on other places of her body like her breasts, her nipples, or her clit.
“You okay?” he whispered, glancing up through those impossibly long eyelashes.
“Yeah.” Her heart pounded behind her ribcage.
“Your pulse is fluttering.”
“Why?” His voice continued in a soft, coaxing tone reminding her of how he spoke to the horse while she gave birth to her foal.
“It’s nothing, Joel.”
“Do you want me to kiss you?”
She closed her eyes and licked her lips. God, do I ever want you to kiss me. More than my next breath. More than a winning lottery ticket. More than…
The next thing she knew, he had twisted her around so she lay flat on the bed with him hovering over her. He bent down and brushed his lips against hers so softly she wasn’t sure if he’d actually kissed her.
“You shouldn’t be doing this.”
He kissed her again, this time with his tongue softly brushing her lips as if to ask for permission to deepen it. Her lips parted of their own accord without her even thinking beyond how his lips felt against hers. The dip of his tongue tore a moan from her mouth. She tangled her hands in the front of his western shirt, wanting nothing more than to remove the barrier between his skin and hers.
The fire burning in her gut prompted her to return kiss for kiss, touch for touch. The caress of his fingers against the side of her breast brought her straight up on the bed, breaking the kiss.