I love to write about Texas Cowboys. After all, I'm married to one. Well, sorta. Actually, I'm the one from Texas, he's a transplant. From Massachusetts. Shush! Don't tell anybody. Because to look at him now - you'd never, ever guess. He has taken to life in Texas and the everday work at our ranch like a duck to water.
When we married, he was willing, but his knowledge of country ways was very weak. So, I began the task of educating him in our mystical, wonderful way. Here's a taste of his education.
1 - I had to teach him to drink sweet, iced tea instead of hot tea. We have hot, hot weather in Texas and iced tea keeps you cooled down enough to get through the day.
2 - We like things hot, too. And not just our lovin'. I eat jalapenos on my hamburgers and in my chili and stuffed with piemento cheese - and we eat hot sauce on everythiing!
3 - One thing that didn't take too much encouraging was Deer Season. We treat Deer Season like a national holiday. Men all take vacations to go spend days at deer camps and we buy extra freezers just to hold the spoils of the hunt. In Heart and Chains, they have a romantic encounter in a deer stand. Ahem! I wonder where I got that idea. . .
4 - We chicken fry things down here - that's dipping meat or vegetables in flour, then egg and milk and then flour again and deep frying it. We chicken fry steak, pork chops, pickles, cheese - heck we even chicken fry chicken. He likes this part of being Texan.
5 -We live in Tornado Alley - that mid section of the country that spawns huge, killer tornados. Therefore, we have a storm cellar. That's not a basement - we can't have basements in this part of the world because the water table is too high. So, we have storm cellars which are nice-size little holes in the ground that have been reinforced and furnished with enough stuff to get you through a few hours when you need to get out of all hell breaking loose overhead.
6 - Friday Night Football - Here high school and college football is like deer season - sacred. Everybody knows football and everything shuts down on Friday night because everybody's at the game. In my family we are staunch, staunch University of Texas people. In all of my books - everybody has gone to Texas. We bleed burnt orange at my house and Bevo is on top of the Christmas tree instead of an angel. We do have some friends that went to Texas A&M, we're nice to them anyway.
7 - We wear cowboy boots like other people wear sneakers. I have about 12 pair. We also all have belts with our names on the back and purses that have been handtooled to display our initials and our brands. My sweetie wear a belt - too - I tooled this on it - MINE! He may not be born-raised Texan, but he has a really cute butt.
8 - Armadillos. The first time my studmuffin saw one, he thought he was going nuts. Armadillos look like armor-plated possums. They trudge around the yard at night and root around looking for worms. Did you know they always have 4 identical looking babies - quads - everytime!
9 - The Texas Rangers are a group that we hold in high esteem. Texas is the only state that can break off from the union and be a country of it's own and the Rangers are our CIA, Scotland Yard and Mossad all rolled into one. HEART IN CHAINS features a romance between a tough Texas Ranger and a Mossad agent that is assigned to keep him alive. Hot, Hot, Stuff.
10 - We all have front porches and we sit on them in big rockers and rock. And that's where we drink alot of iced tea and HARD LEMONADE - YEA!
11 - We raise cattle - my family raise Registered Beefmasters and Longhorns. Beefmasters are extra, extra big. In fact they're huge. A full grown bull can weigh well over a ton. I've very involved in raising the bulls. I pet them when they're little and brush them everyday and they eat out of my hand. On our first date, I took Snookums down to meet my pet bull Sultan. When he saw me coming, he (sultan) broke out in a run - straight for me and my sweetie. Well, doll-face thought we were going to die. When I didn't move, he bravely stepped in front of me like a bull-fighter facing off a freight train. Sultan was just coming for a hand-out - he knows out to stop. Although, he does skid in the last few feet and when he stops, his nose is about a milimeter from your own. It takes a brave man to stand stock still when a ton of bull is running at you full-speed. When he stood his ground to protect me, I decided that day - he wasn't going back up north. I married that man - and now he's my hero and I pattern all the cowboys after my Massachusetts man-candy.
My latest cowboy book is HOT ON HER TRAIL and it will be out at the end of the month.
But, right now - here's an excerpt from HEART IN CHAINS.
Book link -
http://sablehunter.com/heartinchains.html
If you would like to be on my mailing list - let me know -
sablehunter@rocketmail.com
“Would you like to taste the whip again, Aliyah?”
Aliyah was no stranger to torture; and she did not beg. Yasin had taken special pleasure attempting to make her talk. He liked to watch as Moshe tormented her. Moshe was a master of torture. Aliyah had been forced to endure horrific treatment. She had been waterboarded - sometimes three or four times a day. And from the day that her true identity had become known; Moshe had not allowed her to sleep. Four weeks without rest had left her severely weakened and unable to defend herself. The fingers of her left hand had been broken - one at a time - and Moshe had delighted in holding a burning brand to the sensitive skin of her lower back. Still, Aliyah refused to betray her informant. Her loyalty to Khalid was not for sale – not for money and not for blood.
She knew that she was going to die. After assassinating Yasin’s oldest son, there was no way that he would allow her to leave his torture chamber alive. Her only chance was to escape – and the chances of that were very small. Still, she searched every moment for any opening, any opportunity that might arise to extricate herself from the nightmare.
Torture defined her days – morning, noon, and night – day after day – for twenty-eight days. Aliyah was strong; she found that she could survive the drowning sensations, the burns, the sleep deprivation, the beatings. . . . . .
But the whip . . . . God, no – not the whip. Her humiliation had escalated to unbelievable levels with the floggings, because she had not reacted to the whip in the manner that Yasin had anticipated. Aliyah was mortified. Despite the hatred she felt for her captors – and despite every cell in her body steeling itself to not react – the bite of the whip had brought her pleasure.
“Talk to me Aliyah; tell me the name of your Palestinian connection.” Now that Yasin knew she was Mossad, the question was only a formality. They knew that she would die before she gave the name of the man who had aided in leading her to Amin. But, Yasin planned to make her beg for death. He would be disappointed. She wouldn’t beg and she wouldn’t break. Aliyah would protect Khalid with her life. He was her friend. He was also Ben Yasin’s youngest son. So, she bowed her head and her body to the whip.
“Ty, you are my hero. I swear to God.” Leon was impressed; with what, Tyler Landon wasn’t quite sure. The younger man folded his arms over his chest and stared in admiration at the self-assured man’s-man standing before him. Ty hated to think it, but it was quite possible that Leon had a man-crush on him. Crap! That was all he needed. Hero-worship didn’t do anything for you – it just tended to get in your way.
The Texas Rangers Division Headquarters in Austin was bustling with activity; this usually filled Ty with satisfaction, but today was not a normal day. His life was on the line; that was bad enough. But, despite Leon’s annoying prattle, and to add insult to injury – his manhood was being threatened. How in the world was he going to live this down? What was the Captain thinking? Just a day or two ago, he had learned that a special agent of some kind had been flown in to cover his ass. This irritated the shit out of Ty Landon; a Texas Ranger did not require a damn bodyguard! So what if some Mexican drug lord had put a hit out on him? Whatever happened to ‘One Riot, One Ranger’? To make matters ten thousand times worse, the agent was a crappin’ female.
“What are you rattling about, Leon?” Tyler spoke with a slow, strong Texas drawl. His accent had been known to make women swoon. Ty studied Leon like a patient rottweiler watching a yapping Chihuahua. Leon Starsky was aspiring to be a Texas Ranger, whether he would make the cut was still up for debate. He was, at present, a member of the Civilian Personnel Support team. At the moment, as far as Ty was concerned, he was a pain in the butt.
“That female agent you’ve commissioned to protect you, she redefines the word ‘hot’, man.” Ty looked at the younger officer as if he had grown a second head.
“First off,” Ty was about to spit nails, “let’s get the story straight; it wasn’t my idea to have a blasted protector.” Ty wasn’t used to making long speeches. Most of the time, he was a man of few words. But this was a different set of circumstances than he was used to. “I don‘t need protectin’, especially by some damn female – no matter how beefed up she is.” He jerked his head to the right, indicating a muscle bound woman across the room; who, at the moment, was blatantly eating him up with her eyes. Her open admiration made him want to hide behind the desk. He turned to Starsky and tried to quietly make his final point, “and that woman over there may be your idea of hot, but she damn sure ain’t mine.”
Ty’s eyes were trying to avoid Aliyah Sharon. Lord, the woman must be able to bench press four hundred pounds! Her guns were almost as big as his. Grimacing slightly, he turned away. No sirree, women with that much brawn didn’t do a thing for him. He liked his women to be soft and curvy – in short - he wanted his lady to look like a woman. Tyler Landon kept his sexual preferences private – between him and his willing partners, but he was a practicing Dom and nothing turned him on like a Submissive, beautiful woman.
The weightlifter across the room was dressed in the usual DPS officer’s crisp, light brown uniform with the accompanying black leather gear. Apparently, DPS was to be her cover. No matter how she dressed, she was going to stick out like a sore thumb. Rangers didn’t wear uniforms, per se – they were lucky enough to be able to dress the way they wanted as long as it was deemed Western attire; so Ty was comfortable in blue jeans, a black western shirt and a soft leather vest.
“Don’t tell me you aren’t attracted to that woman!?!” Leon just wouldn’t let it go. Ty wasn’t in the mood. He was dead tired for one thing; he had just driven back from his twin brother’s wedding in Deep East Texas. For another, there was info that several Mexican assassins were being sent over the border to put him out of commission. And what just took the icing off the cake – was that he’d found out the evidence he had on Saldado wasn’t quite as good as he had thought it was. The photo he had taken on his camera phone was fuzzy at best. He knew what he thought he saw, but he had no way to prove it. But, worst of all – far worse, in fact, was that Brunhilda over there had just winked at him. He was very afraid that she was going to take her duties as his bodyguard way too seriously. She, undoubtedly, would stick to him like glue. He’d never be able to shake her. Lord help him, she may be his bodyguard, but who was going to guard his body from her?
“I’m not attracted to that woman, Leon. No way. No how. Just look at her, she keeps eyeing me like I’m a juicy T-bone and she’s a starving dog.” Ty was suffering. “I think I’d rather take my chances with the drug cartel.” Leon started laughing. It started out kind of low; but then he seemed to gather up steam. “What in tarnation is the matter with you, now?” Ty threw down his Stetson and glared at the young, highly annoying, law enforcement agent.
“That woman over there isn’t Aliyah, you lucky bastard.” Looking back and forth between the woman in question and Leon – Ty was confused.
“What are you talking about, Leon? Of course, that’s Aliyah. She’s the only woman in the room that I don’t know – she has to be Aliyah.” Starsky was holding his stomach and snickering like some kind of fool. Frankly, Ty was fast losing his patience with the whole situation.
Managing to get a handle on his mirth, Leon stood, took Ty by the arms and faced him in a northerly direction. “Like I said, that big woman over there isn‘t Aliyah, O Wise One – she’s Officer Perry, a transfer from Lubbock. Open your eyes, bud – look coming through the door. That exotic goddess with the almond shaped eyes and the hair that hangs down to her butt - the one with the body that will make your heart forget to beat – that’s Aliyah.”
“Hell yeah!” Ty whispered with heartfelt appreciation - this put a whole new spin on things.
She was walking toward him; her body was pure poetry in motion. Everything about her was just damn near perfect. Her breasts were full and round, like two honeydew melons. Ty wanted to squeeze them and smell them – see if they were as sweet and succulent as they looked. She wore a form-fitting, little brown sweater that outlined her perfect hour glass figure. Ty could tell time – and the sands running through that hour glass were counting down the seconds until he could get his hands on her luscious body. Hungrily, he let his eyes slide past that trim little waist, to hips that made his mouth water and his fingers curve in anticipation of cupping that tight, rounded ass. This was Aliyah? Well, hallelujah! She was stacked, no doubt about it. Now this was his kind of woman.
Ty stood his ground. He was careful to keep his face completely blank; unreadable. Only his eyes betrayed the fire that was coursing through him like a molten river of lava. He couldn’t afford to let her see the effect she was having on him. There was no use giving her an unfair advantage. Regardless of his instantaneous attraction, he had no intention of rolling over and playing dead. He did not need a protector, even if she was absolutely gorgeous. But… Hot. Fuckin’. Damn!
Ty chewed on his lip, willing her to meet his eyes. Oh baby, oh baby. He was going to treat her body like an amusement park. Then, it hit him. If they were supposed to work together (that was the only way he would allow himself to think about this protectin’ business); he was in serious trouble. Was the Captain blind? How in the world was this supposed to work? Talk about a distraction! How was he supposed to watch his own back with this woman around? He would have to spend all of his time just beating men off of her with a stick. Ty bit back a smile – not that it wouldn’t be worth it. Lord help him; Leon was right. This had to be the most beautiful woman that he had ever laid eyes on in his life. And he was supposed to be attached to her – literally – for the foreseeable future? God, he was such a dead man. This woman would attract attention like a rose draws honey bees. He was going to get killed for sure.
“Landon! Sharon! In my office. Now!” The words yelled by his boss, Captain Alvarez brooked no argument. Scraping his eyeballs off the floor, he let them slowly slide over Aliyah’s more than perfect body before following his superior’s orders. She had not, as of yet, even acknowledged his presence. Well, he’d see about that. Christ, he was so aware of her. Looking down, he saw that he was already half erect. Grabbing a file folder off of his desk, he tried to hide his problem. Small damn folder! Her clean, citrus scent enveloped him as she drew near. As he filed into Alvarez’s office, he could feel her heat as she followed him in.
Aliyah walked slowly. She had spotted Landon right away; this would be a piece of cake. She knew his type – self-assured, self-confident and self-absorbed. Alvarez had informed her that Tyler Landon was not pleased that they would be working together. Tough Scrotum! (Aliyah had come up with the term in retaliation for one agent who was always constantly using the annoying ‘Tough Tittie’). What he hadn’t told her was that the ‘Ranger in danger’ was devastatingly handsome. Talk about torture. What Ben Yasin put her through was going to be a walk in the park compared to this. Without staring, she catalogued his features: six foot four, two hundred fifty pounds of solid male – dark brown hair and jade green eyes. His body was magnificent; but that chiseled face was one that God could have reserved for one of his winged warriors. Talk about a fallen angel! Holy Moses!
Thanks for reading
Sable Hunter
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