Thanks for being in Atlanta! Woo hoo!! Steffen Hughes New Single, Dirty South, is on Reverb Nation!

Hey, y’all! Thank you so much to everyone who made it to Atlanta for The Novel Experience.  I hope you had as much fun as I did there!  It was so awesome meeting Troublemakers from all over the country there.  You guys were amazing.

If you were in Atlanta, you also heard Steffen Hughes new single, Dirty South, at the Cowboys Make Better Lovers party!  I know you loved it as much as I did, because you said as much!  Good news!  You can now buy it here on Reverb Nation!  Dirty South by Steffen Hughes

Steffen was the cover model on the latest release in my Texas Trouble Series, Trouble With the Law (#11, Texas Trouble)

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SheReader Book Blog Video Interview from The Novel Experience in Atlanta

I had so much fun at The Novel Experience in Atlanta this past weekend.  I met the most amazing readers, authors and bloggers on the planet.  One of them, Shayr Guthrie from SheReader Book Blog, interviewed me for her blog.  The video is below, if you’d like to watch it.

If you made it to Atlanta, it was very nice to meet you.  If you didn’t get a chance to make it, I sure would love to meet you at the other great conferences I’m attending this year.  In June, I’ll be at Lori Foster’s Reader and Author Get Together in Cincinnati, in October I’ll be in Knoxville at Destiny Blaine’s Reader Rally and the Women’s Expo Event, then in November I’ll be at the Houston Book Rave.  Stay tuned for more info!

Here’s my video interview with SheReader Book Blog:

COME PARTY WITH ME AND STEFFEN HUGHES AT THE NOVEL EXPERIENCE IN ATLANTA 3/29!

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Good morning, ya’ll! It’s FRIDAY and the Novel Experience event in Atlanta is only a week away! I’m really excited, and hope that you’ll all be able to come!

Over a hundred authors, along with Steffen Hughes and other cover models, will be at THE NOVEL EXPERIENCE in Atlanta at the Hyatt Regency Atlanta downtown, 265 Peachtree NE, on Saturday the 29th from 10am – 5pm. We will be signing books and posters, and giving away swag.  This event is open to the public and is FREE to attend.

SATURDAY NIGHT, Steffen will be SINGING LIVE at the COWBOYS MAKE BETTER LOVERS party being hosted by bestselling western romance authors Becky McGraw, Sandy Sullivan, Donna Michaels and Sylvia McDaniel.  The party will held in the Regency VII ballroom from 8pm – midnight.  There will also be a DJ, line dance lessons, games and prizes, a CASH BAR, and a fun photo booth.   The party is also FREE and open to the public, however, please arrive early to get a bracelet for entry at the registration desk. Must be 18 and older to attend.

If you’d like to hear Steffen’s new single DIRTY SOUTH, you can listen to it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xl3VCEbrlk

Cover Reveal! Borrowing Trouble (#12, Texas Trouble) Teaser/Excerpt and update on Trace & Ronnie

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Coming Soon (Est Rel April/May 2014)! Borrowing Trouble (#12, Texas Trouble) Carrie & Dylan’s story

Hey Ya’ll! I’m so excited that the new release in my new series, Just Shoot Me (#1, Cowboy Way) is doing so well! It’s at #6 in the top 100 bestselling on Amazon in Western Romance, and the #2 Hot New Release on Amazon. That’s all because of you! Thank you all so much for your positive comments. If you’ve read it and haven’t left a review, I certainly would appreciate it if you did.

I can’t wait to start on book two in The Cowboy Way series, but right now I’m working on the next book in my Texas Trouble series. Borrowing Trouble (#12, Texas Trouble) is Dylan and Carrie’s story. What do ya’ll think of the new cover?

Since Trouble With the Law went over in word count and I was putting it in print right away, I didn’t get to include an epilogue for you like I usually do. The opening scene of Borrowing Trouble kind of gives you an update on Ronnie and Trace. Here it is, and I hope this excerpt helps satisfy you on Ronnie and Trace’s happily-ever-after, and gets you excited about the new book too! :D

Unedited EXCERPT from Borrowing Trouble (#12, Texas Trouble) (c) Becky McGraw, March, 2014:


Carrie heard the purr of a loud engine outside the barn and her eyebrows knotted. She laid the saddle blanket back on the shelf, and dusted her hands on her jeans as she walked to the door or the barn. Shielding her eyes, she looked at the road to see who was paying them a visit. Maybe it was one of her mother’s friends from church, she thought, but then realized she was wrong when a slick black motorcycle emerged from the trees onto the gravel drive leading up to the house. Neither rider wore a helmet, both wore bandanas instead. One rider was in black leather and the other in white.

She thought about going back inside and getting the shotgun her daddy kept in the office, just in case, but the kids and her daddy were in the house. He could see her from there and knew he must hear the loud engine too, so she walked out of the barn to stand under the tree and wait for them to make it to the barn.

The bike stopped, and the driver put down the kick stand. He leaned down to fiddle with something at the side of the bike and she noticed the pattern on his bandana said Groom of Doom interspersed with hearts over crossed bones. Cute, but definitely not bad ass, she thought feeling a little better about her mysterious visitors. A man wouldn’t wear a bandana like that if he was a bad guy, would he?

It was obvious his passenger was a woman from the curves the white leather suit hugged. The woman swung her leg over the back of the bike and stood. Carrie squinted and saw her white bandana said Bitchin’ Bride. When the man on the front of the bike looked back up, his sunglasses were gone, and Carrie gasped. “Trace…”

His jaw tightened accentuating the scar on his left cheek, which he had to have gotten in prison. Trace Rooks was still handsome as sin, but he looked rougher, tougher and much harder than he had when she saw him last in court. When they convicted him of killing her husband, Sean. Heat shot up her throat and gathered as pressure behind her eyes. Trace hadn’t killed Sean, she reminded herself, shoving the old bitterness she’d lived with for three years away. Sean’s other best friend, Seth Copeland, had not only killed Sean, he had set Trace up for the crime.

Seth was in jail now, and Trace was free. But it was obvious from the look in his haunted eyes that Trace wasn’t free at all. Not any freer than she was.

The woman with him glanced at Trace, then quickly walked over to Carrie to extend her hand. “I’m Ronnie Win—“ she started, then a fleeting smile curved her red lips. She glanced back at Trace again, then corrected, “Ronnie Rooks.”

“That’ll take some getting used to,” Trace said with a laugh as he got off the bike and walked over to drape an arm around Ronnie’s shoulders. “Ronnie and I got married in Vegas.”

Married? Trace Rooks? The man her husband said was a world-class player and would probably never get married was married to none other than the Shark Lady, the woman who had represented him during his trial, and had recommended a plea deal that sent him to prison for a crime he didn’t commit. At the time, Carrie thought the slick attorney was brilliant, that she would get him off scot free. To Carrie, even the three year sentence the judge handed down wasn’t enough. She thought it was pretty damned close to him getting off scot free. But he evidently thought otherwise, because he threatened to strangle this woman on his way out of the courtroom. Unbelievable.

Her eyes locked with the woman beside Trace and Ronnie Rooks full red lips curved to spotlight her perfect white teeth. Carrie ran her hand over her hair, which she’d done nothing to except pull back in a haphazard ponytail that morning. She hadn’t worn makeup since Sean died three years ago, so she knew she must look a mess in comparison to the striking woman.

“Wow,” was all Carrie could push past her frozen vocal chords.

Trace hugged Ronnie to his side. “The honeymoon is over and Ronnie has an election to win,” Trace informed with a surprising smile for the beautiful redhead. “But I wanted to stop by to check on you and the kids. I’ve uh, been meaning to do that for a while.”

What Carrie wanted was to get Trace out of there. His stopping by, or worrying about her at all was astonishing to her. The nasty things she’d said to him at the courthouse as they led him off to jail should have assured she would never see him again. But here he was. Typical Trace. He never knew when to leave well enough alone. Even though he’d been a player, he was a good man. It was the reason he was Sean’s best friend. When someone needed help, Trace was always there. He was the one who should be wearing the white leather suit.

Well, Carrie didn’t want his chivalry or his concern. She’d been doing just fine on her own for three years now. Seeing him just reminded her of Sean, dredged up old memories she had been trying to bury since her husband died. The kids would feel the same. Chris and Izzy had enough problems right now, and so did she.

Carrie sucked in a breath and forced a smile. “Oh, that’s sweet, Trace, but I’m fine—“

His eyes narrowed. “It’s obvious that you’re not fine, Carrie,” he grated. “Seth might be an asshole, but he didn’t lie about what was going on with you. You moved out here, because the kids were out of control, and you lost your house. I want to help you, if you’ll let me.” Trace’s eyes fell to her left hand, and Carrie hid it behind her back. “It’s been three years since Sean died, and you’re still wearing your wedding ring?”

Because in her mind she was still married to him. The man she had dated in high school then married when she was eighteen had been the love of her life. Yeah, they’d had their problems, but Carrie knew Sean would always be there for her. Unless he was working which he did most of their married life. Or he did something stupid. Like get himself killed.

Anger and grief warred inside of her and Carrie spun the ring around her finger with her thumb. Trace Rooks of all people knew how much she loved Sean, and how much he had meant to her. He had been Sean’s best friend and the best man at their wedding. Him questioning her about still wearing her ring like she didn’t have a right to do that pissed her off. She didn’t owe him or anyone else any explanations about how she handled her grief. “I don’t want any help,” Carrie said firmly.

His arm fell from around Ronnie’s shoulder, and his hands clenched into fists at his side. “Well that’s too damned bad, you’re getting it,” he said taking a step toward her. It’s the summer, so the kids are out of school right?”

Carrie’s neck rocked back on her shoulders. What the hell did that matter? “Yeah, they’re out of school. Why?”

“You ever hear of the R & R Ranch?” Trace asked.

Ranch? That place was a spa for rich people who were looking for adventure. Not somewhere she would ever visit in this lifetime. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”

“The owner is a friend of Ronnie’s and we’ve made arrangements for you to go there for a week. You need a damned break. Ronnie and I will keep Chris and
Izzy for the week,” he said. The woman beside him gasped, and Trace glared down at her, before looking back at Carrie. “I want to see them anyway.”

Before Sean’s death Trace had been a fixture in her kid’s life. She had tried to shield them from the ugliness of the murder trial, because they considered him an uncle, but Chris knew. She couldn’t keep him away from the television when the trial was going on. The more he watched behind her back, the angrier and more withdrawn he became. Carrie hadn’t had a chance to talk to her son, since Trace had been cleared. “Um, that’s probably not a good idea.”

“Why the hell not? I want to talk to him.”

Carrie didn’t miss the hurt in Trace’s tone. He loved her kids as much as Sean had, but they didn’t feel the same now. Because Carrie hadn’t had time to talk to them. “Chris doesn’t know you’ve been cleared,” she admitted looking away.

“Why haven’t you told him?” he demanded.

Carrie heard the unmistakable sound of a pump shotgun being racked and spun toward the barn door. Her tall, lanky thirteen-year-old son stood there with her father’s shotgun to his shoulder, eyeing down the sight at Trace.

“Get out of here murderer,” he growled trying to sound fierce, but his voice trembled.

Fear shot to her throat. Carrie swallowed it down and tried to force calm into her tone, “Chris, put the shotgun down.”

It was true. Chris was out of control, but she had no idea how to help him. Counselors hadn’t worked, suspension from school for smoking pot hadn’t worked, grounding for the summer hadn’t worked. Moving away from the nasty group of friends he’d been hanging out with at the old house hadn’t worked. Carrie was afraid he was going to end up dead or in jail if she didn’t do something. She just didn’t know what to do. He needed a man in his life, a good man other than her father who was just too old to deal with teenagers any more.

Trace stepped forward and spread his arms. “Shoot me,” he invited and Ronnie and Carrie gasped at the same time. “If it will make you feel better and you think it will bring your daddy back, just do it, kid. I loved him too, and I love you.”

Carrie thought Trace must’ve lost his mind. The gun shook in Chris’s hand, and she thought he might do actually do it accidentally. Trace was even bolder though, he showed no fear as he took a step around her, then another toward Chris. Carrie saw Chris’s eyes fill, but his grip on the gun got tighter. His finger moved into the well of the trigger.

“I love you, Chris. I want to help you,” Trace said taking another step toward him. “I didn’t kill your daddy.”

“They sent you to jail. You killed him!” Chris said in a higher voice.

“Seth Copeland killed him,” Trace countered taking another step toward him. “Ask your mother,” he said gruffly shooting a glare over his shoulder at Carrie.

“It’s true, honey,” Carrie said with a waver in her voice. “He’s in jail, and Uncle Trace has been cleared. It was all a mistake.”

Chris swung his eyes toward her, then back to Trace. The barrel of the gun lowered a few inches, and his shoulders relaxed a little. Carrie’s did too. Izzy picked that moment to run around the side of the barn yelling her brother’s name. Chris tensed and swung the gun in her direction. Carrie screamed, Ronnie gasped and Carrie watched in slow motion as Trace shot forward to tackle him around the waist. The gun exploded and Carrie squeezed her eyes shut, because she just couldn’t look. Her ears rang as the sound reverberated through the trees, and she prayed that she hadn’t just lost her daughter too.

TEACH A WOMAN TO FISH By Becky McGraw, author of the Texas Trouble and Cowboy Way Series

TEACH A WOMAN TO FISH By Becky McGraw, author of the Texas Trouble and Cowboy Way Series.

JUST SHOOT ME (#1, Cowboy Way) RELEASED EARLY!!

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Wow!  Amazon worked at the speed of light for some reason!  JUST SHOOT ME (Cowboy Way, #1) has been RELEASED EARLY!! 

Amazon US – https://tinyurl.com/ksunfz6
Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00IFEMVHI

THE COWBOY WAY is a new contemporary western romance series by Becky McGraw, author of the Texas Trouble Series

Hey Ya’ll!  The first book in my new contemporary western romance series The Cowboy Way will be released on Valentine’s Day (Feb. 14, 2014)!  JUST SHOOT ME (#1, Cowboy Way) is Dean’s story.  If you’ve read my novella Hope for Christmas which was included in the anthology Santa Wore Spurs, you’ll remember Dean who was the hero Cord Dixon’s cranky older brother.  If you haven’t read it, please do, because that novella was the spring board for this new series.  Santa Wore Spurs is only .99 right now, and you can get my novella, and three others by Sandy Sullivan, Sable Hunter and Desiree Holt too! 

The Cowboy Way series has less action than my Texas Trouble series, but more a little more humor, heat and definitely more angst.  Here’s a little preview of JUST SHOOT ME for you.  I hope you love it as much as you love the Texas Trouble series!

BLURB:

Tina Montgomery needs to find her Texas Tomcat. Her promotion and livelihood depend on it. That promotion could mean a new life for her, her sister and her niece. It’s a big risk however, because if she fails in her bid to head up a new menswear line at her company, she could lose everything. That’s why finding the perfect model to represent the line has become her sole focus. At the point of thinking she would …never find that man, one with both experience and attitude that shows in his face and eyes, she meets Dean Dixon. His gorgeous eyes tell a story she definitely wants to hear and the man has more attitude than any she’s ever met. Physically he’s perfect for the job. But that attitude she thought she wanted in her cowboy quickly becomes her biggest downfall when she tries to convince the sexy, but hard-hearted rancher to help her.

Dean Dixon is done with women. His cheating ex-wife has shown him just how untrustworthy women are. He has a ranch to run, and a son who might not be his to raise alone. That’s more than enough for any man to handle without dealing with his sister-in-law’s friend who is determined to convince him to model for her company. He has seen what that industry has done to his brother. Dean is a rancher, not a model, and he isn’t about to abandon his family or fall into the same trap his brother had. He stands his ground, until his sister-in-law tells him why Tina needs the promotion she’s wanting so badly, and asks for his help. Hope had bailed him and his family out when they needed her the year prior. How could he refuse to help her now?

CLEAN EXCERPT:

Dean turned and laid down on the floor then reached back with his foot to find the first rung.  He scrambled down the tree to the ground, and took a moment to adjust his jeans, before he started across the pine needle covered ground.  Last night in the heat of the moment, he hadn’t felt the prickly pine needles sticking into the soles of his feet.  He hadn’t felt much of anything, except the overwhelming urge to get Tina Montgomery up in that deer stand and fuck her brains out.  This morning, he felt every step he took, just like he felt the bitterness of the regret inside his chest.

If they’d met when he was younger, before he became so jaded.  Before Cindy.  Maybe Dean’s life would be different.  Tina Montgomery coming along now wasn’t the same.  He wasn’t the same.  Last night up in that deer stand he’d forgotten his problems for a few hours.  She’d helped him forget.  But when his feet hit the ground again this morning, they were all still there.  Last night hadn’t solved a damn thing.  Dean knew it had just been a temporary reprieve in his shitty life. A welcome one, but just a reprieve.  Dean still didn’t have a damned clue how he was going to fix things.  Or if he could.

Taking a deep breath, he huffed it out then picked his way through the trees toward the place they’d made love the first time last night.  Dean looked around under the tree and found his hat behind some scrub, but didn’t see her skirt, his boots, or anything else.  He mumbled under his breath and turned.  A pair of ripped red panties occluded his view.  They smelled just like Tina Montgomery, and he couldn’t help but take a deep breath.

“Looking for these?” Cord asked smugly.

Dean ripped them from his fingers, and shoved them into the pocket of his jeans.  “Where’s her damned skirt?” he grumbled.

Cord laughed and pulled it from behind his back to hand it to him.

“My boots?” Dean growled.

“Hope has those in the truck.”  Cord didn’t move to go get them though.  His brother stood there with a wide grin on his face.  “Figured you took her to the deer stand.  I made enough damned noise to wake the dead.  You should be saying thank you instead of being an ass.  Seems like you should be in a better mood too considering.”

“Would you just go get my damned boots?”

“Hope has Tina’s boots too,” Cord said in a sing song voice, then his eyes laughed as he added, “I’ll go get them on one condition.”

“What’s that?” Dean asked clenching his fists, wanting nothing more at that moment than to plant one in his brother’s face.

“You let her climb down that ladder to get her panties and skirt.”

“Fuck you,” Dean growled and shoved him hard.  Cord laughed as he stumbled back and put his hand on his chest.

“You know I’m just kidding.” Cord’s face turned serious.  “I’m happy for you brother.”

“Nothing to be happy about. It’s done,” Dean said through his gritted teeth.  “Now, go get my damned boots before I tell your wife you’re ogling Tina, and she kicks your ass!”

His brother’s laughter echoed through the woods, as he walked toward the clearing.  A few minutes later, he returned with Dean’s shirt, and their boots.

Cord dug into the pocket of his jeans and handed Dean a set of keys.  “Ya’ll take your time,” he said with a wink.  “Lucky says to take his truck when you’re ready to come back.  He’s riding with us.”

A lightning bolt of desire shot through him, but Dean caught it and crushed it.  He had things to do.  “We’ll be there in a few minutes,” he said as he turned to walk back to the tree stand.

DIRTY EXCERPT:

Dean laid the clothes on the vanity, and pulled the jeans off the hanger then unbelted the robe he was wearing and let it drop to the floor.  He inspected the jeans and decided they were a little heavy on the fancy stitching on the back pockets, but might be something he wore for special occasions.  He surely wouldn’t be working outside in them.

At least they were bootcut and not those damned skinny leg jeans that men were wearing these days.  He had no idea how men wore those damned jeans.  He’d feel like he was in a sausage casing.  One thing was for sure the men that wore those type of jeans like Paulo, didn’t wear cowboy boots with them.  Boots would never fit under the tight legs.

Dean put his legs in the jeans then pulled them up.  To get them buttoned he had to suck in and lean back against the vanity.  Before he zipped them he had to rearrange things to make sure the zipper didn’t catch anything important.  God if a man got excited in these jeans, there would definitely be trouble, he thought, as he finally got the zipper up and looked down at himself.

They were too tight, he decided, patting his ass and not feeling an inch of give in the material.  He ran his thumb along the waistband and there was no room there either.  Surely, that woman Belinda had brought more than one pair.  Tina had sent a tailor out Wednesday to take his measurements, but the guy must’ve gotten the numbers wrong.  Dean shoved his undershirt into the waistband of the jeans, put on his boots then opened the door.  He walked back down the hall to the living room of the bunkhouse.  Belinda was talking to Hope and Tina, so he just walked over there.

“These pants are too tight,” Dean complained and all three women swung around to face him.  He figured they must’ve realized it too, because as a group they gasped and put their hands to their chests.  He even heard a whimper from over by the sofa that had to come from Paulo.  “I’m gonna bust out of these if I breath too deeply.  Get me another pair,” Dean said shortly.

Tina broke from the others to walk over and slowly circle him, inspecting him like she would a side of beef.  That’s exactly what he felt like right then with the petite brunette’s hot eyes on his body.  Uncomfortable, Dean shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“They’re perfect,” she said softly, as she stopped to face him.

Her gray eyes made it up as far as his mouth and lingered a second, before her gaze tracked back down his throat, moved slowly over his chest down his legs to his toes.  “Perfect,” she repeated.  On the return trip up his body, her eyes lingered for a moment at his crotch.  That look he’d seen in her eyes the other day when she was moving the car came back.  Interest.  Desire.

Dean quickly found out that he was right about the lack of stretch in those jeans.  Tina might as well have actually touched him there considering his reaction.  That thought made him harder. “Get me another pair of damned jeans!” he demanded as he turned away quickly before anyone noticed his problem.

He strode back down the hallway, and slammed the bathroom door behind him.  Leaning back against it, he shut his eyes.  He’d had a fucking hard on since he met that woman.  Her staring at him like that when he hadn’t had sex in three fucking years wasn’t helping his problem.  He hadn’t taken the edge off in a long time either.

Why did his damned sex drive have to come out of hibernation now?  And why because of a woman he did nothing but argue with?  Because even though his mind might resist the idea of being attracted to the tiny spitfire, his body was definitely there.

Big time, he thought looking down at the straining zipper on the jeans.

He kept feeling her soft skin against his palm when he took off her boots, and wondering if the rest of her shapely body was just as warm and silky.  Wondered if the tips of her perky breasts were dusky pink or coral colored.  And how they would taste.  The tip of his tongue tingled, and Dean got so hard, he really did think he might break the zipper out of those jeans.

And there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it.  This photo shoot was about to go to hell in a handbasket.  Dean was about to be humiliated too.  He knew someone would probably be knocking on that door soon, expecting him to come back out there.  When he did, the whole crew was in for a surprise.  Unless he did something to fix the situation himself.

Dean unzipped the jeans, and shoved them down his legs, grabbed the hand towel off the rack beside the sink, then shuffled over to sit on edge of the tub.  He jerked his underwear down and fisted himself.  Sitting sideways he leaned back against the wall, straddled the tub edge and closed his eyes.  He gripped his painful erection, and stroked himself, as he pictured Tina Montgomery using that beautiful mouth of hers on him.  Dean held back a moan, his breathing hitched, and his heart beat an unsteady rhythm in his chest.

With each stroke, each fantasy he indulged, the tension inside him ratcheted up.  Pleasure built, his balls tightened and he moaned, damned close to coming when the bathroom door opened.  A soft gasp followed, and his eyes flew open to see the woman he was fantasizing about standing there, looking as embarrassed as he felt right then.

God, he wished someone would just shoot him.  Put him out of his misery.  His face felt like it was on fire as he threw the hand towel over his lap and sat up.

“Um, I was just coming to see what was taking so long,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.  She waved her hand, put it to her cheek, then shook her head and dragged her eyes toward the toilet.  “You just, ah…finish up…and I’ll be out there,” she said without looking at him.  Tina crawfished back out of the door and pulled it shut.  Dean just sat there with his heart pounding in his ears, more embarrassed than he’d ever been in his life.

JUST SHOOT ME (#1, Cowboy Way) Coming to Amazon.com on 2/14/14

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THE COWBOY WAY is a new contemporary western romance series by Becky McGraw, author of the Texas Trouble Series

Amazon US – https://tinyurl.com/ksunfz6
Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00IFEMVHI
Nook on Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/408235

Hey Ya’ll!  The first book in my new contemporary western romance series The Cowboy Way will be released on Valentine’s Day (Feb. 14, 2014)!  JUST SHOOT ME (#1, Cowboy Way) is Dean’s story.  If you’ve read my novella Hope for Christmas which was included in the anthology Santa Wore Spurs, you’ll remember Dean who was the hero Cord Dixon’s cranky older brother.  If you haven’t read it, please do, because that novella was the spring board for this new series.  Santa Wore Spurs is only .99 right now, and you can get my novella, and three others by Sandy Sullivan, Sable Hunter and Desiree Holt too! 

The Cowboy Way series has less action than my Texas Trouble series, but more a little more humor, heat and definitely more angst.  Here’s a little preview of JUST SHOOT ME for you.  I hope you love it as much as you love the Texas Trouble series!

BLURB:

Tina Montgomery needs to find her Texas Tomcat. Her promotion and livelihood depend on it. That promotion could mean a new life for her, her sister and her niece. It’s a big risk however, because if she fails in her bid to head up a new menswear line at her company, she could lose everything. That’s why finding the perfect model to represent the line has become her sole focus. At the point of thinking she would …never find that man, one with both experience and attitude that shows in his face and eyes, she meets Dean Dixon. His gorgeous eyes tell a story she definitely wants to hear and the man has more attitude than any she’s ever met. Physically he’s perfect for the job. But that attitude she thought she wanted in her cowboy quickly becomes her biggest downfall when she tries to convince the sexy, but hard-hearted rancher to help her.

Dean Dixon is done with women. His cheating ex-wife has shown him just how untrustworthy women are. He has a ranch to run, and a son who might not be his to raise alone. That’s more than enough for any man to handle without dealing with his sister-in-law’s friend who is determined to convince him to model for her company. He has seen what that industry has done to his brother. Dean is a rancher, not a model, and he isn’t about to abandon his family or fall into the same trap his brother had. He stands his ground, until his sister-in-law tells him why Tina needs the promotion she’s wanting so badly, and asks for his help. Hope had bailed him and his family out when they needed her the year prior. How could he refuse to help her now?

CLEAN EXCERPT:

Dean turned and laid down on the floor then reached back with his foot to find the first rung.  He scrambled down the tree to the ground, and took a moment to adjust his jeans, before he started across the pine needle covered ground.  Last night in the heat of the moment, he hadn’t felt the prickly pine needles sticking into the soles of his feet.  He hadn’t felt much of anything, except the overwhelming urge to get Tina Montgomery up in that deer stand and fuck her brains out.  This morning, he felt every step he took, just like he felt the bitterness of the regret inside his chest.

If they’d met when he was younger, before he became so jaded.  Before Cindy.  Maybe Dean’s life would be different.  Tina Montgomery coming along now wasn’t the same.  He wasn’t the same.  Last night up in that deer stand he’d forgotten his problems for a few hours.  She’d helped him forget.  But when his feet hit the ground again this morning, they were all still there.  Last night hadn’t solved a damn thing.  Dean knew it had just been a temporary reprieve in his shitty life. A welcome one, but just a reprieve.  Dean still didn’t have a damned clue how he was going to fix things.  Or if he could.

Taking a deep breath, he huffed it out then picked his way through the trees toward the place they’d made love the first time last night.  Dean looked around under the tree and found his hat behind some scrub, but didn’t see her skirt, his boots, or anything else.  He mumbled under his breath and turned.  A pair of ripped red panties occluded his view.  They smelled just like Tina Montgomery, and he couldn’t help but take a deep breath.

“Looking for these?” Cord asked smugly.

Dean ripped them from his fingers, and shoved them into the pocket of his jeans.  “Where’s her damned skirt?” he grumbled.

Cord laughed and pulled it from behind his back to hand it to him.

“My boots?” Dean growled.

“Hope has those in the truck.”  Cord didn’t move to go get them though.  His brother stood there with a wide grin on his face.  “Figured you took her to the deer stand.  I made enough damned noise to wake the dead.  You should be saying thank you instead of being an ass.  Seems like you should be in a better mood too considering.”

“Would you just go get my damned boots?”

“Hope has Tina’s boots too,” Cord said in a sing song voice, then his eyes laughed as he added, “I’ll go get them on one condition.”

“What’s that?” Dean asked clenching his fists, wanting nothing more at that moment than to plant one in his brother’s face.

“You let her climb down that ladder to get her panties and skirt.”

“Fuck you,” Dean growled and shoved him hard.  Cord laughed as he stumbled back and put his hand on his chest.

“You know I’m just kidding.” Cord’s face turned serious.  “I’m happy for you brother.”

“Nothing to be happy about. It’s done,” Dean said through his gritted teeth.  “Now, go get my damned boots before I tell your wife you’re ogling Tina, and she kicks your ass!”

His brother’s laughter echoed through the woods, as he walked toward the clearing.  A few minutes later, he returned with Dean’s shirt, and their boots.

Cord dug into the pocket of his jeans and handed Dean a set of keys.  “Ya’ll take your time,” he said with a wink.  “Lucky says to take his truck when you’re ready to come back.  He’s riding with us.”

A lightning bolt of desire shot through him, but Dean caught it and crushed it.  He had things to do.  “We’ll be there in a few minutes,” he said as he turned to walk back to the tree stand.

DIRTY EXCERPT:

Dean laid the clothes on the vanity, and pulled the jeans off the hanger then unbelted the robe he was wearing and let it drop to the floor.  He inspected the jeans and decided they were a little heavy on the fancy stitching on the back pockets, but might be something he wore for special occasions.  He surely wouldn’t be working outside in them.

At least they were bootcut and not those damned skinny leg jeans that men were wearing these days.  He had no idea how men wore those damned jeans.  He’d feel like he was in a sausage casing.  One thing was for sure the men that wore those type of jeans like Paulo, didn’t wear cowboy boots with them.  Boots would never fit under the tight legs.

Dean put his legs in the jeans then pulled them up.  To get them buttoned he had to suck in and lean back against the vanity.  Before he zipped them he had to rearrange things to make sure the zipper didn’t catch anything important.  God if a man got excited in these jeans, there would definitely be trouble, he thought, as he finally got the zipper up and looked down at himself.

They were too tight, he decided, patting his ass and not feeling an inch of give in the material.  He ran his thumb along the waistband and there was no room there either.  Surely, that woman Belinda had brought more than one pair.  Tina had sent a tailor out Wednesday to take his measurements, but the guy must’ve gotten the numbers wrong.  Dean shoved his undershirt into the waistband of the jeans, put on his boots then opened the door.  He walked back down the hall to the living room of the bunkhouse.  Belinda was talking to Hope and Tina, so he just walked over there.

“These pants are too tight,” Dean complained and all three women swung around to face him.  He figured they must’ve realized it too, because as a group they gasped and put their hands to their chests.  He even heard a whimper from over by the sofa that had to come from Paulo.  “I’m gonna bust out of these if I breath too deeply.  Get me another pair,” Dean said shortly.

Tina broke from the others to walk over and slowly circle him, inspecting him like she would a side of beef.  That’s exactly what he felt like right then with the petite brunette’s hot eyes on his body.  Uncomfortable, Dean shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“They’re perfect,” she said softly, as she stopped to face him.

Her gray eyes made it up as far as his mouth and lingered a second, before her gaze tracked back down his throat, moved slowly over his chest down his legs to his toes.  “Perfect,” she repeated.  On the return trip up his body, her eyes lingered for a moment at his crotch.  That look he’d seen in her eyes the other day when she was moving the car came back.  Interest.  Desire.

Dean quickly found out that he was right about the lack of stretch in those jeans.  Tina might as well have actually touched him there considering his reaction.  That thought made him harder. “Get me another pair of damned jeans!” he demanded as he turned away quickly before anyone noticed his problem.

He strode back down the hallway, and slammed the bathroom door behind him.  Leaning back against it, he shut his eyes.  He’d had a fucking hard on since he met that woman.  Her staring at him like that when he hadn’t had sex in three fucking years wasn’t helping his problem.  He hadn’t taken the edge off in a long time either.

Why did his damned sex drive have to come out of hibernation now?  And why because of a woman he did nothing but argue with?  Because even though his mind might resist the idea of being attracted to the tiny spitfire, his body was definitely there.

Big time, he thought looking down at the straining zipper on the jeans.

He kept feeling her soft skin against his palm when he took off her boots, and wondering if the rest of her shapely body was just as warm and silky.  Wondered if the tips of her perky breasts were dusky pink or coral colored.  And how they would taste.  The tip of his tongue tingled, and Dean got so hard, he really did think he might break the zipper out of those jeans.

And there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it.  This photo shoot was about to go to hell in a handbasket.  Dean was about to be humiliated too.  He knew someone would probably be knocking on that door soon, expecting him to come back out there.  When he did, the whole crew was in for a surprise.  Unless he did something to fix the situation himself.

Dean unzipped the jeans, and shoved them down his legs, grabbed the hand towel off the rack beside the sink, then shuffled over to sit on edge of the tub.  He jerked his underwear down and fisted himself.  Sitting sideways he leaned back against the wall, straddled the tub edge and closed his eyes.  He gripped his painful erection, and stroked himself, as he pictured Tina Montgomery using that beautiful mouth of hers on him.  Dean held back a moan, his breathing hitched, and his heart beat an unsteady rhythm in his chest.

With each stroke, each fantasy he indulged, the tension inside him ratcheted up.  Pleasure built, his balls tightened and he moaned, damned close to coming when the bathroom door opened.  A soft gasp followed, and his eyes flew open to see the woman he was fantasizing about standing there, looking as embarrassed as he felt right then.

God, he wished someone would just shoot him.  Put him out of his misery.  His face felt like it was on fire as he threw the hand towel over his lap and sat up.

“Um, I was just coming to see what was taking so long,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.  She waved her hand, put it to her cheek, then shook her head and dragged her eyes toward the toilet.  “You just, ah…finish up…and I’ll be out there,” she said without looking at him.  Tina crawfished back out of the door and pulled it shut.  Dean just sat there with his heart pounding in his ears, more embarrassed than he’d ever been in his life.

ONE-CLICK BUY LINKS:

Amazon US – https://tinyurl.com/ksunfz6
Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00IFEMVHI
Nook on Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/408235

Judge a Book By Its Cover Contest!

Hey ya’ll — two of my covers are entered in the Houston RWA Judge A Book By Its Cover Contest!!! They’ve opened the Reader’s Choice voting. Please just click the links below and score the covers to vote. It will only take a second to vote for both. Thank you so much, and wish me luck! The prize is a spread in the Romance Writers Report, the RWA trade magazine!

TROUBLE WITH THE LAW – SEXIEST COVER

https://jabbic.hbarwa.com/readers/ViewEntry.php?e=222&cat=6

#11 Texas Trouble

Trouble With the Law (Texas Trouble, #11)

WORTH THE TROUBLE – BEST CONTEMPORARY SERIES COVER

https://jabbic.hbarwa.com/readers/ViewEntry.php?e=223&cat=1

worth the trouble mcgraw

Worth the Trouble (#9, Texas Trouble)

I’d Love to Meet You in Atlanta at the Novel Experience!

TNEE Author graphic

I would so love it if you could make it to The Novel Experience in Atlanta March 28 – 30, 2014.  I’ll be there signing with nearly 300 other amazing authors!  There will be signings, awesome swag and giveaways, and author parties!!

The Cowboy Lovers party Sandy Sullivan and I are co-hosting on Saturday night is going to be OFF THE HOOK!  If you miss it, you’ll be missing a darned good time with the fabulous Steffen Hughes who was my cover model on Trouble With the Law, line dance lessons, and lots of cool giveaways!  On Sunday there is a SWAGAPALOOZA event where participating authors will be giving away tons of swag.

The signing is free and open to the public, but please get the inexpensive weekend VIP tickets, if you want easy, guaranteed entry to the other fabulous author parties and events too!  The event host has negotiated a spectacular room rate of only $129 a nt at the Hyatt Regency in Atlanta, but the room block is filling up fast, so book your rooms now!

Click the link below for more info on the attending authors, events, or get links to buy tickets and book your room: http://thenovelexperienceevent.blogspot.com/