Thursday, July 1, 2010

July Newsletter :D

Hey, y'all!

Happy July!

It's been an exciting month for me. I had new book releases (which I'll talk on in a few) and new contracts, and I've made some travel plans, which is always good for the inspiration.

How about new releases first?

Resplendence publishing has put out my very first book with them! It's called Chasing Flame, and it's about rodeo cowboy Nate, and his long-time best friend, who happens to be a cowgirl. Her name is Lacey, and she's no fuss, no muss, and Nate thinks of her as one of the boys until he has to come home to his small town to help his momma out. Then he might just see her in a whole new light.

You can find it here:

5.99 in ebook!

Resplendence has also signed two new Roughstock books! They're both m/f traditional romance, and one featured Cotton, who we've met a few times in the Roughstock books, and his rockabilly gal from Austin, Emmy. The other is about Rosie, who's a bullriding widow, and her resolve never to date cowboys again. Until she meets long, tall Les, a full-time ranch cowboy who rides broncs as a hobby.

Resplendence will also be re-releasing a short-lived title I had with a now-defunct press. It's called Eagle of Ice, Scorpion on Fire, and it's a vampire romance. I love these two. They’re due out in October 2010. In December, we’ve got a sweet cowboy romance called A Christmas Wren, as well.

Speaking of Roughstock, if you want to know what happens in Sam and Beau's world (File Gumbo) when Sam recovers enough to be tired of being treated like glass, pick up the last Torquere Taste Test, Barbed Wire and Bootheels. There's Beau and Sam in there, plus stories by Vic Winter and Lorne Rodman. It's here:

available in ebook for 2.99

Also from Torquere is a book I co-wrote with Rob Knight. Rob's a wee bit more gritty than me, so it adds something to the writing. It's called Down by the River.

Phillip doesn't want to go back to Louisiana. He's got a good thing going in Las Vegas, with a political career on the rise and a past he's put behind him. When that past raises its ugly head, though, bringing him full circle, Phil meets up with some people he never expected to see again.

One of those people is his childhood friend, Grant Thibbideaux. Grant is a successful businessman, just as eager to forget their past as Phil is. Some things can't be hidden forever, and Phil and Grant have to work together to find enough common ground to face their demons. Can they build their friendship from the ashes of what it once was, and maybe find love in the process?

You can find it here:

Only 4.99 in ebook

So, what else is going on?

Julia Talbot and I will be traveling a bit in July. We're heading off to Mexico for a long weekend, and then making our annual pilgrimage to the big daddy rodeo, Cheyenne Frontier Days. Talk about inspiration, y'all. Wrangler butts, boots out the wazoo, and hot rodeo riders filling both. We ought to be able to bring home at least fifty new cowboy characters…

Maybe fifty-two

One of Julia's very favorite cowboys is retiring this month. Let's all have a moment of silence for her loss. Go see the smokin' hot Mike White at his webpage.

I've been working on cleaning up Walking on the Sun, the next Road Trip book (I know! I know! I'm on it) and I've been thinking a lot about Sonny and his poetry.

So how about a new poem?

Sonny's Poetry Corner

Roses are Red
Violets are fine
Cowboy's a butthead
And MJ is mine


I'll leave y'all with an excerpt from my Resplendence release, Chasing Flame. Thanks for reading, y'all, and see you on down the trail.

His voice half broke. “They called me trashy. Said I’d amount to nothing.”

“Fuck them and the horse they rode in on.” The harness hit the ground with a thump as Lacey stood, damn near vibrating. “You do good on the circuit, Nate. You know it. Your momma knows it. I know it.”

That had his face sliding into a smile. His Annie Oakley—always ready to take up for him. Nate grinned at her, his hands unclenching so he could actually get them out of his pockets to grab his cigarettes out of his shirt. “Yeah. I know. I guess... I guess I’ll just do it more full time, you know? I had planned to wait until almost April for my first event. But now I can go to Florida in February.”

“You could... you could stay here, if you want, ‘til then. Daddy wouldn’t mind.” Right, like Mr. Garrison had minded anything since the missus passed away.

“Oh, thanks, Lace. But I. I got to go. I burned some bridges today.” If his momma was gonna hold her head high, well, he had to stay away, to show them he could make a living, send good money home. He’d have to apologize, though. “Can you do me a favor, though?”

“Anything, Hoppy.”

“I need to send Momma flowers.” The unlit cigarette went back in the pack so he could get his wallet and get out a twenty, handing it over to Lacey. “Can you go to Mrs. Garcia’s shop tomorrow when she’s open, give her this and tell her to send Momma whatever that will buy, and just have the card say I’m sorry?”

“Sure.” Lacey waved the money away, pushed a stray hair behind her ear and streaked her cheek with oil. “Put that back. Herschel paid me yesterday.”

Nate wanted to argue, but he knew he was running on fumes and it would've sure been nice had he not spent the money on Momma's damn roof before everybody turned on his ass, wouldn't it? Sighing, he put the twenty away and reached out to rub the oil off her cheek. “You’re the best. You’ll keep an eye on Momma for me?”

She nodded against his hand, eyes closed for a second. She had a tiny beauty mark right near one eyebrow, sorta shaped like a heart. “I will. I promise.”

Nate tapped her chin with his thumb before pulling back. “You’re always as good as your word, honey. I’ll call when I get settled for the next month or two. Then call from Florida. You know?”

“Yeah. I’ll be here. I.” Her lips twisted as she chewed on the bottom one, fretting a little. “You make sure you keep the oil changed in that truck, Hopalong. She’s a good girl.”

He wanted to say some more shit, but what good would it do? The only way he would is if they had all night and a twelve pack of beer, and they didn’t. So he just nodded, grabbing her up real quick for a bone jarring hug. “You be good to yourself, Annie.”

“Don’t forget about us.” She held on a second, cheek on his shoulder. “I... I got some camping stuff. A little stove, a lantern, a good sleeping bag. It’ll fit in your truck.”

Nate let his lips ghost over her temple before he backed off. “Okay. Yeah, okay. I. Thanks. I’ll pay you back, when I can. You know that.”

“I know. Come on, I’ll fix you up.” She always did, just like that.

She was the best friend he’d ever had, and he knew it. They got everything settled in the truck, a tarp over, lashed down, two quarts of oil in the tool box. Nate kicked the dirt. Fuck, it was time to go. This was... it was time. Firming his lips to keep from babbling, Nate put an arm around Lacey’s shoulders, walked to the driver’s side of the truck. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back. If I will...”

Lacey had nodded, eyes on his boots. “Yeah. I know. Just go on, Hoppy, you’re losing light.”

So he’d gone. He’d given her another half hug and turned away, hopping up in the truck before he agreed to stay at her place and live in the barn or some shit. He could go find work until the season started. He could, damn it, no matter what folks said.

Nate had waved at Lacey as he drove off, looking at her in the rearview as he pulled out of the long track from her folks’ place to the road. She’d watched him, hand pushing the hair away from her face, getting smaller and smaller until she got lost in the dust from his tires.

And now his tires were hydroplaning, the rain sudden and ugly, a real gullywhomper. Nate laughed, making Hank look up at him from the passenger seat. He’d left like a piece of trash on the wind and now he was washing in with the storm like so much mud.

Didn’t that just figure?

Lacey’s folks’ house looked...smaller somehow. Maybe it was the fact that he could only see what was illuminated by his headlights. Or maybe time just made everything seem like it had been bigger in his head. He hoped to God she was home now, not at the hospital. It had taken him nearly three hours longer than he’d wanted to get there, thanks to the weather. He'd called up to Presbyterian once he'd hit Lake Ray Hubbard, talking to Flora Krodle—who was still working the nurses' station, just like she'd been for twenty years. The old gal had told him that June was sleeping comfortably, and that if he showed up and woke her up, Cathy McMillan would put her size eight, ever-so-comfortable nursing shoe so far up his ass he'd be swallowing around her toes.

He'd taken the words as a sign.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Oh! I'm so glad you mentioned working on the next Road Trip book! I recently came across your work, and decided to start with that series and it broke my heart when the third book ended! You have such a great catalogue to read through while I wait, but oh I love Sonny and MJ, even if they are a couple of nutters! Congrats on the new books and have fun at the rodeo!