It's whitetale deer season in Texas. That makes me a white-tail widow - sounds funny, doesn't it? My husband takes time off from work and lives in the woods. I don't have to cook supper and have more time to write;it's a win-win situation for all. He came in last night - late - grinning from ear to ear. He had shot his second deer of the season. I tried to explain to him that there was no more room in the freezer, but that didn't seem to faze his enthusiasm. He lives to hunt.
You would never know that he was a city boy. It's true. In fact- and I whisper this as I sit deep in the heart of the Lone Start State - he's not even from the south!!!! When I first acquired him, he didn't know a mule from a donkey. But, my father and I have made a true Texan out of him.
When we first moved into our house that sits on the far side of my father's ranch - Jason, my deer-hunter, was determined to embrace country life to the fullest. He wasn't happy until we acquired all different kinds of livestock - even chickens. Of course, it fell my lot to gather the eggs and this isn't so bad - unless you get a handful of chicken snake. So, he had his animals and I had my flowers. My roses were my passion. My father mentioned to Jason one day that the chicken fertilizer - or manure or whatever you want to call it - would be really good for my roses. Dad explained to Jason that the chicken poop was strong and would have to be diluted with water.
A few days later, my dad and I went to gather the eggs. Imagine our consternation when we stepped into the chicken pen and found three five gallon buckets of water sitting at various points in the pen. The chickens were milling about them - really, not paying them much mind at all. I couldn't imagine! The chickens had their little troughs for feed and fresh water - so what was the meaning of the large buckets filled with water?
My dad stood there a moment - and then he laughed. And laughed. He then related the conversation that he had with Jason. In my city boy's mind - he had set up the chickens three little commodes. Later, he was a little embarrassed to relate that he had envisioned the chickens perching on top of the five gallon buckets - backwards, mind you - depositing their little offerings in the water. My father gently explained to him that he needed to shovel the manure off the ground and mix it with the water. The chickens could not be potty trained!
Irregardless, time has turned my sweetheart into a Texas cowboy. In the evening, when I see him riding in on his horse, his hat pushed back from his face and that curly blond hair just waiting to be smoothed away from his brow - I melt inside. There's just something about a Texas cowboy - even a transplanted one.
I love to write about Texas men. They open doors for women, and they say 'yes ma'am' to every female, regardless of their age. Texas men go without their shirts - yes, Matthew McConaughey hails from Texas. And, Lord in heaven - Texas men know how to kiss! Of course, we Texas girls are not shabby at it either and with a little training, my deer-hunter has earned his Texas certificate in lip-lock proficiency. To tell you the truth, he could teach a class!
I write erotic romances - about Texas men. Jason reads them, and there are times when he recognizes himself in the character. Every time we make love, he falls over afterward and declares - 'there's you another hot-scene for your book, honey'. He's right, God bless him. I ought to keep a notebook by the bed and take notes. The only request that he has made about my books is that I insert illustrations. He says that they would double their selling ability, if I would put in a few well-drawn pictures. He may be right!
Here is my latest Texas treat. It's COWBOY HEAT, the first in the Hell Yeah! series.
He has spent his life taking care of the ranch and his brothers. Thinking that
he will provide a stable home life for his siblings, he marries a money-
grubbing woman who has eyes for everyone but him. So he has learned
his lesson. The only thing a woman is good for is sex.. . . until Libby comes
Libby Fontaine is trying to cram a lifetime of living into a few short
months. She is in remission from leukemia and for the first time, she has
a glimmer of hope for a normal life. Her dream of living on a ranch is
brought to reality when a friend of the family offers her an opportunity to
work at Tebow ranch for the summer as housekeeper and cook. This will be
more than a job to Libby, for she will get the chance to be around the man
that she has been in love with for most of her life.
When Aron lays eyes on Libby it is instantaneous lust - he wants her with every
fiber of his being. But Libby confesses her innocence and Aron backs off - he
has nothing to offer a girl who deserves white lace and promises. Then Aron
catches Libby pleasuring herself in the stock tank and hears her cry out his name
- and the heat is on.