Cover & Excerpt
Western Romance for Women
Edited by Delilah Devlin
Stories by Amber Lin, Cat Johnson, Cheyenne Blue, Cynthia D’Alba,
Delilah Devlin, Emma Jay, Layla Chase, Megan Mitcham,
Mia Hopkins, Michael Bracken, Myla Jackson, Randi Alexander,
Robie Madison, Sabrina York & Shoshanna Evers
Broad Shoulders, Well-Worn Jeans and a Lean-Hipped Swagger
They may ride into the sunset, but cowboys never go out of style. These manly men embody the fiercely independent, earthy alpha male and hero who isn’t afraid to show the gentle, nurturing side of his complex nature when he’s faced with a woman or an animal in need. Even when he’s coated with dust from riding behind a herd of cattle, or up to his knees in mud freeing a calf from a wallow, this stud still generates a lot of Cowboy Heat.
USA Today bestselling author Delilah Devlin takes you back to the ranch with stories of rugged romantics, rough riders, and rope wranglers sure to satisfy your desire for a real man. In "Shall We Dance?," by Myla Jackson, a waltz teacher learns about rhythm from her rancher student at the Flying M. The rodeo champion in Megan Mitcham’s "Coming Home" discovers that true love might be waiting at the end of the trail. A high school reunion at the honky tonk finds a city girl back in the strong arms of her cowboy crush in Cat Johnson’s "Unfinished Business." Saddle up!
Genre: Erotic Western Romance
Content/Theme(s): Cowboys, Short story collection, Anthology
Release Date: February 24, 2014
Publisher: Cleis Press
Excerpt & More each story
Purchase links: Cleis Amazon ARe Kobo B&N
Mrs. Morgan and the Marshal by Emma Jay
A dalliance with the sexy town marshal makes a woman rancher question which she wants most, her independence or him
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Emma Jay On Cover Reveals
Remember by Mia Hopkins
A jilted bride saddles up with the blazing-hot cowboy stripper hired for her cancelled bachelorette party
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Mia Hopkins On Cover Reveals
Cowboy Downtime by Cheyenne Blue
Passion ignites at a polocrosse game in the Australian outback—she plays attack, he plays defense, and their sexy wager decides the winner
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Cheyenne Blue Amazon author page
Cheyenne Blue On Cover Reveals
Coming Home by Megan Mitcham
A busted-up rodeo champion finds the squirt he tormented in youth transformed into a fiery woman challenging him to become the man she deserves
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Megan Mitcham On Cover Reveals
Her Captured Cowboy by Layla Chase
A lonely woman, ostracized by Colorado townspeople after years in Indian captivity, takes what she needs from a wandering cowboy
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Back Stage Pass by Cynthia D’Alba
A sexy night with a hired escort, who looks exactly like a woman’s favorite country singer, leaves her with a back stage pass and a lot of burning questions
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Unfinished Business by Cat Johnson
A class reunion gives one woman a second chance with a sultry cowboy from her past
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At the Mercy of the Cowboy by Amber Lin
A new farmhand finds rough living and an even rougher cowboy to soothe away her pain
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Cowboy Adonis by Michael Bracken
When a naked cowboy rises from a stock pond, a nature photographer’s assignment gets personal
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Denim and Lace by Robie Madison
One woman in a pair of rhinestone heels plus two sexy cowboys equals a highly combustible combination
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Robie Madison On Cover Reveals
One Track Cowboy by Delilah Devlin
After tracking two lost hikers, a park ranger and a local rancher lose themselves to a wild passion
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Skin Deep by Randi Alexander
A pretty city girl and a scarred country cowboy discover love waits when you’re ready to look beneath the surface
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Drop Two Tears in a Bucket by Shoshanna Evers
Alone on her Montana cattle ranch after her husband divorces her, a woman finds satisfaction in the arms of the one cowboy she can’t resist
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A Cowboy for Delilah by Sabrina York
The last thing this independent, high-powered lawyer wants is a cowboy in her life, but one steamy kiss from a sexy rancher burns her resolve to a crisp
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Shall We Dance? by Myla Jackson
When a lonely woman gives private dance lessons to a shy, sexy cowboy, she stumbles on passion worth fighting for
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Myla Jackson On Cover Reveals
Excerpt from At the Mercy of the Cowboy by Amber Lin:
For two months, Colt seems satisfied with my work, both outside the house and within. He even says so, with praise all the more sweet for its muttered reluctance, like, You did all right out there today, Alex, and, This meatloaf reminds me of the one my mom used to make.
But in the past few weeks, if possible, he seems even more reserved. He keeps his head bent during dinner and spends more time outside.
This worries me. I’m happy here, but I don’t want to run him out of his own home.
Taking a brief break from my work refilling the feed troughs, I watch as he repairs the fence around the large corral, snipping and straightening the barbed wire.
His hands are ensconced in thick gloves, but I’ve seen over the past few days that inevitably some part of his skin—on his chin or his arm—will get snagged and bleed. This is what he’s like, I realize. Wrapped in barbed wire to keep everyone out, but it must sting him, too.
I see that small pain sometimes, the stillness after each sharp cut. The loneliness of a single coffee mug laid out to dry. The hard look in his eye when he checked out my newly rounded ass just now. He longs for something, and it’s the same thing I want, a little dirty and a lot rough.
He’s a prime specimen of man, lean and large in all the right places. But the more I watch his impressive work ethic, his unassuming honor, the more I want the man inside. Only I don’t see how that can happen. There’s so much between us, layers of sharp and prickly metal wire, and I don’t know how to get past it without cutting us both.
He returns to the house later and later each day, and though it’s really none of my business, curiosity consumes me. What is he doing out there as I keep the pot roast warm in the oven? It’s none of my business, but that doesn’t stop me from walking to the stable where a light glows amber through the slatted doors.
I follow the sounds of gentle water in the side room that serves as both a tack room and a tool station. Standing in the doorway, I register only the sights I’ve seen before, albeit with furtive glances.
Colt stands at the utility sink, a wet rag pressed against the back of his neck. Water runs in darkening rivulets over bronzed shoulders and down his furred chest.
He’s washing up, that’s all. I should return to the house or call out so he’s aware of my presence. Instead, I let my gaze slide along his now-slippery body, to where the water would soak into the waistband of his jeans.
But his waistband isn’t where I thought it would be, buttoned up. Instead, the two sides of his fly splay open, and the damp-darkened white of his underwear is pushed down, allowing his curved cock to jut from his body. It’s clearly quite hard, which he confirms by thrusting it into his fist.
He moans, a low sort of grumble, and my body responds with a strangled gasp. He looks up and—oh shit, he actually looks up at me, and I think I might melt onto the dusty floor, leaving nothing but a shameful wet spot where Alex used to be. That might be preferable to standing here, caught red-handed, having already made him so uncomfortable in his own home that he won’t wank off there.
Though he doesn’t look disturbed, as his nostrils flare, and he murmurs my name. He doesn’t seem put off from the whole wanking business as his fist seems to tighten and—one, two—strokes his length.
I blink, but I really can’t deny what is happening right now: he’s masturbating while watching me.
He’s pleasuring himself to the sight of me.
Lust is a strong current in my mind, but I force myself to still. I can turn around, away from the pretty muscles and the angry-aroused face of the most decent man I’ve ever met, and I would hate myself forever. Or I can go to him.
So I do, walking toward him on the heaviest feet known to man. I’m literally shaking, and I can’t think why I’m so nervous. Except that I want this, badly. More than I had wanted a job and a place to live and food on the day I came here, I want this. To be connected to him with my body, my mind and whatever else there is knocking around inside us. Something meaningful, so that even if I had to drive away from Colt’s farm tomorrow, the ripples of our joining would gently rock me in my sleep.
With my every step, his hand quickens, his lids lower. His lips part, and I’m sure he’s going to come. He must be almost hurting himself, so tightly and so quickly. He releases a sound on every upstroke, like something that would come in the middle of a word, just unhhhh, breath expelled and body taut. He can’t hold out anymore, I think. Any minute now, he’ll climax, and it will be over.
I don’t want it to be over. I want to watch this sight every night, like the sunset from the porch. More than that, I want to join in.
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