Showing posts with label cowboys. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cowboys. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Follow the Dream by Heidi M. Thomas

ExcerpTuesday



Sunday, July 14, 1929

Spring rains never came this year.

The little bit of grass that came up is nearly gone. Used up rest of the hay already. Jake’s not himself. I’m really worried....


When they watched the skies now, it was with a tingling sense of hope and dread. The clouds built up over the rims, dark and angry, then dispersed as the hot winds blew them to nothing.


In June, Jake had only shrugged when the thunderheads passed over and splattered just a few hard raindrops like bullets into the dust. There was always a chance that the next storm would dump its load and the grass would come back, resurrected from its hardpan grave.



Each time the sky grew dark, Nettie ran to gather clothes from the line, shut the windows in the house and bring four-year-old Neil in. While their son played cowboy on a saddle in the kitchen, she and Jake prepared themselves, anticipating the long, drowsy afternoons of gentle rain when they could rest without guilt as the earth replenished itself. But disappointment always followed one brief, hopeful interlude after another.


As summer wore on, the clouds produced nothing more than a frightening display of heat lightning, the air so charged with electricity that the hair on Nettie’s arms stood up. She thirsted for a view of something green, the smell of new grass. A silent vigilance overtook their lives.


She watched the tension pull at Jake, his hopeful expectation as the sky darkened, the half-smile when he heard the first clap of thunder, and then the slump of his shoulders when the storm again passed them by. Her heart ached for him, and fear built inside like the thunderheads on the hills.


He no longer whistled in the mornings. It had been weeks since she had seen him joke and wrestle playfully with Neil. He rode out every morning, but more and more often he returned with nothing. The drought had killed or driven off the coyote’s food supply, too.


Disappointment pooled inside Nettie like the rain puddles she craved. One evening in the deepening shadows of dusk Nettie saw Jake sitting on the rock by the corral, his face buried in his hands. Cold fear swept her, stopped her from calling out. Her feet felt too heavy to move. Her strong, invincible cowboy seemed beaten. If he had no hope, what was left?



Bio

Heidi M. Thomas grew up on a working ranch in eastern Montana. She had parents who taught her a love of books and a grandmother who rode bucking stock in rodeos. Describing herself as “born with ink in her veins,” Heidi followed her dream of writing with a journalism degree from the University of Montana and later turned to her first love, fiction, to write her grandmother’s story.


Heidi’s first novel, Cowgirl Dreams, has won an EPIC Award and the USA Book News Best Book Finalist award.


Follow the Dream is the second book in the “Dare to Dream” series about strong, independent Montana Women and is a WILLA Literary Award winner.



Heidi is a member of Women Writing the West, Pacific Northwest Writers Association, Skagit Valley Writers League, Skagit Women in Business, and the Northwest Independent Editors Guild. She is also a manuscript editor, and teaches memoir and fiction writing classes in the Pacific Northwest.



Blurb


Nettie Moser’s dreams are coming true. She’s married to her cowboy, Jake, they have plans for a busy rodeo season, and she has a once in a lifetime opportunity to rodeo in London with the Tex Austin Wild West Troupe.


But life during the Great Depression brings unrelenting hardships and unexpected family responsibilities. Nettie must overcome challenges to her lifelong rodeo dreams, cope with personal tragedy, survive drought, and help Jake keep their horse herd from disaster.


Will these challenges break this strong woman?


This sequel to Cowgirl Dreams is based on the life of the author’s grandmother, a real Montana cowgirl.

Monday, April 11, 2011

ExcerpTuesday: Jennifer Jakes

He rode into town to buy supplies, not a woman.



For hunted recluse Rafe McBride, the raven-haired beauty on the auction block is exactly what he doesn't need. A dependent woman will be another clue his vengeful stepbrother can use to find and kill him. But Rafe's conscience won't let him leave another innocent's virginity to the riff-raff bidding. He buys her, promising to return her to St. Louis untouched. He only prays the impending blizzard holds off before her sultry beauty breaks his willpower.

She wanted freedom, not a lover.
Whisked to the auction block by her devious, gambling cousin, and then sold into the arms of a gorgeous stranger, outspoken artist Maggie Monroe isn't about to go meekly. Especially when the rugged mountain man looks like sin and danger rolled into one. But a blizzard and temptation thrust them together, and Maggie yearns to explore her smoldering passion for Rafe.

But when the snow clears, will the danger and secrets that surround Rafe and Maggie tear them apart?

***

Maggie wanted freedom, not a lover…


Oh, Lord. He was going to kiss her. She shouldn’t want this. She was confused enough.

Respectable women didn’t kiss men they barely knew, certainly not men who made them have wild,

exotic dreams.


It was crazy. He was making her want crazy things. Making her not give a damn about her reputation

or her virginity. Or her long-awaited freedom. All she could think about was that dream, and the way

his sinful mouth had felt. The table was only a step away, and honey was just as sweet as peach juice…

She swallowed hard and looked up into his hooded eyes.

“Maggie,” he groaned. “Don’t be scared. I’d never hurt you.”

Her mouth parted to object, but firm lips covered hers, hungry, demanding. She gasped, shocked at his

hunger, but even more at the illicit response coursing through her. An aching heat unfurled low in her

stomach, pulsed between her legs. Oh, yes. It started just like in the dream.

He deepened the kiss, coaxed her lips with his warm tongue. Long, languid strokes teased the inside of

her mouth, encouraging, tempting before he pulled back to nibble the corners of her lips.

Oh, God. Is this what all kisses felt like? Hot, lethargic? Melting her like molasses over warm bread?

“Kiss me, Maggie,” he breathed.