Monday Moons and Ramblings

Now, where were we? Wet Hunk Week? I got so carried away with the Big Chief yesterday that I forgot he needed to be wet!

Let me delve into my archives and see if I can find some wet buns. . .
Ah, here we go.

Notice the way he's positioned in the sand? He must not want to crunch his YD into the little sharp shell bits one so often finds along the shoreline. Can't say I blame him for that; I don't like walking on them in my bare feet, and my feet aren't anywhere near as sensitive as the average dick.

Okay, now for the news. I sent the synopsis for book 8 off to my editor yesterday--well, actually, I sent it to her new assistant, whose name, interestingly enough, is Cat. I suggested a title and a tagline, but they'll probably change it, so I won't bother posting it here. You'll only have to readjust when the final decision is made.

Actually, I'm not even sure the synopsis will be approved. Somewhere along the line I was supposed to call and talk with my editor about it. But I never quite got around to it, and now they've asked for this preliminary information. I guess I'll find out whether she likes the idea or not, won't I?

Truly, it's a wonder I managed to get it done as quickly as I did. They wanted a short synopsis, so I wrote a long one, then saved the original and started cutting the copy. I didn't exactly cut it to the bone, but I did go from two pages to less than one. We had a contest on Casablanca once where you had to make your pitch in 50 words or less. This was about 475 or so. Not quite the elevator pitch, but it's getting there.

I'm rambling. I wrote this Sunday night at about 9PM and I'd been writing guest blogs and judging a couple of entries in the Indiana Golden Opportunity contest since about 9AM. One was a mess, and the other was nearly perfect. It's amazing the difference you see in the entries. I'm also coordinating the Romantic Suspense category this year, and fortunately, there were only 15 entries, which made my job much easier. I certainly don't envy those managing the larger categories because it took me about three hours last weekend to get the forms filled out correctly and email them to the judges. Some of them I've had to send more than once, too. I'm doubly grateful that I didn't have 20 or 30 entries like some of the other categories, because this landed at about the same time I had to finish Virgin and start writing guest blogs for Hero.

That's right, ladies! Hero will be in bookstores in less than a month! Can you believe it? It certainly crept up on me. I fiddle-farted around and now it's really too late to schedule a booksigning, unless I do it later in August, and I'm going to the lake that last week as it is. I sure hope the WiFi works down at the dock like it's supposed to, or I'll have to go hunting for someplace else that does because I have two guest blogs going up that week.

Marie Force said she did 30 guest blogs for her last book. I'm doing fourteen for Hero, (I've written four so far) and I cannot imagine what it would be like to do thirty. I think my brain would just shut down completely. I'll be posting links to the guest blogs here, and I'm counting on you ladies to keep me company if it gets lonely on those other blogs. I think blog traffic is lighter in the summer anyway, but I guess we'll see.

I just realized something else. I'll be heading to Orlando for the RWA Nationals in a little over two weeks! Something else that has crept up on me while I wasn't looking. OMG! I am so not ready. . . .

Monday Moonshine!

I may have worked my butt off in the yard yesterday, but mine still can't compare with this one. Sad, but true.

















I spent all day working on my flower beds and harvesting my garlic. Funny thing about sitting down to make a garlic braid: the bugs leave you alone. . . and so does everyone else. I put a little more time into the braid this year, discovering that if I strip off the outer layers, it looks nice and white as opposed to the dirty brown they usually are.


It was a very zen experience for the most part. Focusing on a task like that will free your mind better than most things. It's sort of like meditation: you sit down and only think about what you're doing, and the rest of the world and all of its troubles seem to disappear. For a while, anyway.

My roses were swallowed up with weeds, and this had been preying on my mind. I'm used to the Japanese beetles eating them up this time of year, but weeds? In a word, no. Not like they were a day ago. We're talking grass and other plants nearly as tall as the roses themselves. But now, I dare anyone to find a weed in those beds.

This is just one more thing that gets away from you when you've got a late June/early July deadline. There is no yard work, only time spent on the computer, editing, re-editing, and more editing. After a bit, you begin to wonder why you ever wrote the damn book to start with. So, since yesterday WAS Independence Day, it seemed fitting that I assert my independence and do something different.

I actually sat out under the tree for a couple of hours when I was finished and watched the birds and butterflies. Peaches and Snake visited me occasionally, but except for a few flies, there was nothing to disturb me.




















Today, however, it's business as usual. . . . .

Sunday's Hunk of the Day!

Feel like sleeping in?


Thought so!

I'm on Casablanca Authors and Wickedly Romantic today.

Arrggh!!! I'd much rather be playing with Zack....

Long-haired Hunk Week Begins!

There's a reason why my Zetithian heroes have hair down to their waist: I think long hair on a man is really hot.

Perhaps it stems from my having grown up during the Sixties. The contrast between my father's flat-top haircut and Jim Morrison's softly curling locks was quite shocking, and whatever you think about him or his music, you can't deny he had sexy hair!

This may also be why I've always liked the Indians better than the cowboys in all those old westerns I used to watch. They were pretty hot, too.

I think sex with a guy with hair down to his waist would be fabulous, if only for the novelty factor. These days most men don't have any hair at all. I find it very sad that the pendulum has swung once again to the shaved head look, which I consider to be rather creepy, not to mention unflattering to most men.

*sigh* Maybe in another twenty years or so, they'll start letting it grow long again.

I just hope I live long enough to see it happen.

And now for the travelogue of my trip to the lake! The rest of the gang didn't want their pictures posted on the Internet, so all you get are pictures of me. Good thing I posted the hunk first. . . .

The drive down was quite uneventful. Suzie and Angela had both worked the night before, so I drove over to Suzie's house and then drove her truck and the boat from there. It was a pretty quiet drive with both of them trying to get some sleep. We stopped for lunch in Cave City and then drove on to Glasgow to stock up on supplies at the Walmart there. We got to the house at about four or so. I forget what we had for dinner that night, maybe it was just sandwiches, and we watched He's Just Not That Into You after Suzie and I fiddled with the connections to the DVD player and the TV for a while. It's never simple. Sometimes it takes hours to figure it out--though it's easier now than it used to be when there was a Dish cable added to the mix. Don't know what I did, but I took everything apart and then put it back together and it worked. Not a bad movie, either.

Lovely place, that house. It's a spacious, airy place on a hill above the lake near the bridge that crosses it. It's not alone there on the hill, but the other houses are mostly vacation homes, so there aren't many people living there at any given time. The next morning we took the boat down to the dock and launched it after Suzie and Angela replaced part of the carpet. I must say here that Suzie's boat is a rather ancient pontoon, and it's always a crap shoot as to whether or not it will start. But it behaved itself this time and started without a grumble. We spent the day in a cove on the lake, drifting on our floats and listening to music on Suzie's XM radio. Very peaceful! Don't I look like a relaxed beached whale????

Terri came down on Tuesday night and we had hamburgers cooked on the grill for dinner. I say all of this like it happened easily, but nothing ever is. Suzie had to go up to the store for more propane for the grill, and the music on the boat almost didn't happen. Suzie thought her speakers had gone bad until I got out of the water and discovered she hadn't flipped the switch that turned on the plug for her power supply. We work well together, don't we? Sort of like the way it is at the hospital. We watched You, Me, and Dupree that night. Not bad, really, but I've never cared for Matt Dillon.

Somewhere in there--must've been Wednesday night--I made Chicken Piccata, which everyone seemed to enjoy--even though I had no wine to put in it. Pickett county is dry, so all I had was a bottle of Corona that I'd brought along. The local grocery was out of cooking wine--can you guess why? It was slightly bitter from the beer, but other than that, it tasted fine. I also made a chocolate pie, but the chocolate was old and had been in our plastic stash tub along with some Matchlight charcoal for several years and had picked up the lighter fluid smell. I didn't think it was fit to eat, but we added some Dove chocolates that Suzie had and it wasn't too bad. Of course, by then I'd convinced everyone that it was terrible, so I got to eat most of it. My strategy worked!
















I fixed breakfast of bacon, toast, scrambled eggs with cheese every morning and then we'd head out to the lake. Thursday morning it looked like rain, so we decided to go ahead and pull the boat out and spend the day at the house. Suzie and Angela went to town for a while, but I was reading Kendra's latest book and decided to stay and read. It was nice to have some time alone. Sometimes you need that.

I had my guitar and amp with me, and I played by myself off and on and then we had a little sing along on Wednesday evening. Nobody got drunk that night, so we were pretty tame, really. We watched Australia on Thursday and then had steaks cooked on the grill for dinner--at about 10:30! I didn't sleep very well that night and dozed a bit on the drive home. Actually, the only drinking I did was a margarita on the lake on Wednesday which made me feel like crap the rest of the afternoon. Drinking during the day just doesn't work for me.












Of course, the best part was getting home to my own bed and my sweetie! I know they say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I've always been pretty fond of him whether I've been absent or not!

The staff of life

There was a time when I didn't buy bread at all, I made it. This is a recipe I developed back in the days when I had the time to do it, (before children and horses and romance novels) and I made it at least once a week.

My, how times have changed! Not only do I buy bread now, but I probably shouldn't be eating it at all. However, homemade bread is one of the joys of life which must be partaken of now and then. Making the pumpkin bread got me in the bread-baking mood, and in the course of one week, I've made three different kinds.

The pumpkin bread didn't last twenty-four hours. This bread may last longer depending on your homemade bread deficit level. The trick is to keep from eating all of it at once.


Whole Wheat Bread

Mix together in large bowl and let stand until foamy:

1/2 cup warm water
1 tbsp brown sugar
1/4 tsp ginger
2 pkgs yeast

Then stir in:

1 egg
1 3/4 cup warm milk
3 tbsp melted butter
1/2 cup honey
1 tbsp salt
1 cup whole wheat flour

Add 5 to 5 1/2 more cups of whole wheat flour one cup at a time, stirring in the first 4 and kneading in the rest until you have a smooth, non-sticky dough. Place in greased bowl, cover, and let rise until doubled in bulk.

Knead dough and shape into two loaves. Let rise in greased pans until nearly doubled in bulk. Bake at 350 for 45 min. If you make smaller, individualized loaves like the two in the picture, you can make 8 of them and you only need to bake them for 30 min.

And, yes, the arrangement of the bread in the photo was deliberate!

Ready for a break!

I'm writing this on Sunday. At least I think that's what day it is. I'm trying to get posts up to last while I'm at work later this week and then while I'm at the lake next week. I think I've got it all covered, but there's bound to be a glitch or two.

I'm really looking forward to my time at the lake with the girls. Hopefully, we'll have a boat that works so we can actually go out on the water. There's nothing quite as relaxing as drifting on a float in a cove at Dale Hollow Lake. Until another boat comes cruising through, of course. My friends make fun of me because I always float with an umbrella to keep from getting too hot or sunburned. I don't tan very easily--mostly I burn, so I rarely go out without liberal amounts of sunscreen. Nothing will spoil a vacation quicker than a sunburn!

Over the years I've put going to the lake into a couple of my (unpublished) books, and there's a reason for that. All women need to go on a vacation now and then with other women--preferably with friends, rather than relatives. No kids, no husbands, no boyfriends. Just the girls. Trust me, it's the only time you can truly relax.

Of course, if Rafael were to show up, we probably wouldn't make him leave. . . .

Kindle is Coming!!!!

For those of you who have been writing to ask when Rogue and Outcast will be available on Kindle, according to my editor, they should be available in e-format by the end of the year and Fugitive will be released simultaneously in e-format and print in January 2010!

Saturday's Hunk of the Day!

Don't you just love Benji? Whatever it is he's got, he hasn't lost it yet!

This pic was in with the last batch Sharon sent me. I think it's one of the best.

Enjoy the day!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LISA!!!!!

Well, Lisa, we've baked the cake and lit the candles on the birthday buns for you, but I know that what you really want is a man on a tractor.












Is this what you had in mind?????

That's actually Derrick in case you can't tell from the thunder thighs. The pic is courtesy of Sharon.

























Donna suggested that I try to find some hot Hawaiian hunks for your BD. I looked and this is what I found. His name is JC Sibala, and he's not Hawaiian, but Filipino, but he looked so darn good I didn't think it would matter.




























Plus, we have every soccer mom's dream in our own sweet Benji!


















You have a real nice birthday, now, ya hear?

Monday Moons!

This just goes to prove that Derrick has some awesome buns to go along with those thunder thighs.

This next fellow is only listed as David, but I think that's really all we need to know about him. The rest we can see with our own two eyes.

I don't know if we can take much more of this before we all go into hunk overload. Perhaps I should go back to posting flowers for a while, just to give us time to recover.

I've been writing a lot on Hero, and I think you'll all be pleased with the results. Trag is such a sweetie, and Micayla is more than a match for him. He's gonna turn to much by the end, you wait and see! I'm up to 80,000 words now, so meeting the Sept 30 deadline shouldn't be a problem.

I want to thank all of you blog followers for sticking with me through the times between book releases. Keeping a following is a tough job, and I'm grateful to all of you who have suggested topics and given me your input, be it recipes or pictures or the occasional guest blog.

Speaking of guest blogs, Sharon's post will be going up on Wednesday. Given the day of the week I'm posting it on, you can probably guess what her topic is! Don't miss it!

We also talked about writing another story. Are you starting it, Ana? The only email I've received was from Sharon. It may be a while before I can post it, but you can start writing it if you like. I've been getting bogged down in details lately, so forgive me if I'm not here a lot. The brain is getting fried again. Unfortunately, it doesn't take much to do that!

I watched Hung on Sunday night. I'll have to say, I wasn't terribly impressed. Oh, well. . . .

Sharon is sending me hunk pictures again. I'm sifting through them and looking for only the best! In the meantime, I'm sure you'll all enjoy Derrick's buns!

Sunday's Screaming Tropical Hunk!

Ever have one of these? The drink, I mean. I like them, but they are quite rich and deceptively potent. Be very careful!

I'm sure Rusty do his best to give you a good one. He'll even add extra Bailey's if you pinch his buns.

Screaming Orgasm

Ingredients:

• 1 oz Vodka
• 1 1/2 oz Bailey's irish cream
• 1/2 oz Kahlua

Mixing instructions:

Pour first vodka, then Bailey's, then Kahlua into a cocktail glass over crushed ice. Stir. Caution: use only high quality vodka. Cheap vodka can cause the Bailey's to curdle. Test your brand of vodka by mixing 1 Tsp each of vodka and Bailey's first.

I'm also blogging on Wickedly Romantic today. Come on over!

Saturday's Tropical Hunk!

It's another tequila sunrise, staring slowly cross the sky. . . .

OMG, I love that song! And what could be better than a cute little bartender to make it for you!

Tequila Sunrise

• 2 measures Tequila
• Orange juice
• 2 dashes Grenadine

Mixing instructions:

Pour tequila in a highball glass with ice, and top with orange juice. Stir. Add grenadine by tilting glass and pouring grenadine down side by flipping the bottle vertically very quickly. The grenadine should go straight to the bottom and then rise up slowly through the drink.

Speaking of tequila sunrises, have any of you ever seen that movie? I mean, Mel Gibson at his hottest, Kurt Russell in his best role ever, Michelle Pheiffer looking all gorgeous, and Raoul Julia as the best bad guy ever telling Mel that he fucks like a world champion. OMG!!! Maybe I'll pull that tape out and watch it again one of these days.

In the meantime, bottoms up!

Mai Tai, anyone?

This one is just too cute for words. I'm speechless!

Recipe courtesy of Webtender!

Mai Tai

Ingredients:

• 1 oz Light rum
• 1/2 oz Orgeat syrup
• 1/2 oz Triple sec
• 1 1/2 oz Sweet and sour
• 1 Cherry

Mixing instructions:

Shake all ingredients (except cherry) with ice and strain into a collins glass over several ice cubes. Top with the cherry and serve.

How about a nice Hawaiian Punch?

Okay, we've got it all but the drink! Benji with a Hawaiian flower on his butt, his tattoo showing, and a "Come and get me" expression in his smoldering eyes.

Recipe courtesy of Webtender!


Hawaiian Punch

Ingredients:

• 1/2 oz Amaretto
• 1/2 oz Vodka
• 1/2 oz Rum
• 1/2 oz Creme de Banane
• 2 oz Orange juice
• 2 oz Pineapple juice
• 1 1/2 oz Grenadine

Mixing instructions:

Pour over ice, (grenadine last), and stir.

Creator/contributor's comments:

Looks and tastes like the non-alcoholic well known brand named juice "Hawaiian Punch".

Whopping Tropical Weasel Wednesday!

Even if you can't see his face very well, you probably recognize that dick (and those thighs!) by now. Yes, it's Derrick.

Just imagine him bringing you a pina colada and maybe putting a little sunscreen on your back. Taking you for a swim or a stroll on the beach. Then a little frolicking in the sand.

Oh, yeah. No problem. I'm there. . .




If you like pina coladas, and getting caught in the rain. . . .

Recipe courtesy of Webtender; revised by me!

Pina Colada

Ingredients

• 3 oz Light rum
• 3 tbsp Coconut milk
• 3 tbsp Pineapple, Crushed

Mixing instructions:

Put all ingredients into an electric blender with 2 cups of crushed ice. Blend at a high speed for a short length of time. Strain into a collins glass and serve with a straw. For an added treat, pour over your favorite hunk and lick it off. Slowly. You wouldn't want to miss anything. . . .

It's a Tasty Tuesday Tropical Heat Wave!

Thirsty yet?


I thought so. Here's a little something to wet your whistle!

Tropical Heat

Ingredients:

• 2 oz Gin
• 2 oz Cinzano Orancio
• 1 dash Malibu rum

Mixing instructions:

Mix with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a orange spiral.

Donna sent me another recipe. Haven't tried it yet, but it looks pretty good! I mean, I can't think of anything made with cream cheese and taco sauce that wouldn't be tasty!

Rated: Submitted By: donna can cook Photo By: CookinBug aka JL86 Prep Time: 30 Minutes Cook Time: 30 Minutes Ready In: 1 Hour Servings: 6

"Toss jumbo shells with melted butter, stuff them with a rich, spicy blend of cooked ground beef, cream cheese and chili powder, and bake with taco sauce. Bake again with Cheddar, Monterey Jack and tortilla chips, and serve with sour cream and onions."

Ingredients:

1 1/4 pounds lean ground beef 1 (8 ounce) package cream cheese 1 teaspoon salt 1 teaspoon chili powder 18 jumbo pasta shells 2 tablespoons butter, melted

1 cup taco sauce 1 cup shredded Cheddar cheese 1 cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese 1 1/2 cups crushed tortilla chips 1 cup sour cream

Directions:

1.	In a large skillet, brown beef over medium heat until no longer pink; drain. Add cream cheese, salt and chili powder; mix and simmer for 5 minutes.
2.	Meanwhile, bring a large pot of lightly salted water to a boil. Add pasta and cook for 8 to 10 minutes or until al dente; drain. Toss cooked shells in butter.
3.	Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C).
4.	Fill shells with beef mixture and arrange in a 9x13 inch baking dish; pour taco sauce over shells. Cover with foil and bake in preheated oven for 15 minutes.
5.	Remove dish from oven and top with Cheddar cheese, Monterey Jack cheese and tortilla chips; return dish to oven to cook for 15 minutes more.
6.	Top with sour cream and onions; serve.

Tropical Thunder Week Begins!

To kick off Tropical Thunder week, we have this cute little bugger to get you in the mood. Warm sun, cool water, hot cabana boy about to lose his shorts. . .

Pretty soon, we'll be needing a little something to drink. A nice margarita or a Long Island tea, perhaps.

Enjoy!



Recipe courtesy of Webtender


Long Island Tea

Ingredients:

• 1/2 oz Vodka
• 1/2 oz Light rum
• 1/2 oz Gin
• 1/2 oz Tequila
• Juice of 1/2 Lemon
• 1 splash Coca-Cola

Mixing instructions:

Combine all ingredients (except cola) and pour over ice in a highball glass. Add the splash of cola for color. Decorate with a slice of lemon and serve.

Sunday's Naked Cowboy!

I think that this was my personal favorite of all the cowboys Sharon sent me. I think the reasons for that are perfectly obvious to anyone who knows me.

(Hint) There are two of them.

I'm also blogging on Wickedly Romantic today. Come on over!

Since Donna gave me such a good idea for a story with Derrick, I figured I'd give it a whirl, so, here goes!

THE COWBOY'S DELIGHT
by Cheryl Brooks

It was pouring down rain when Eloisa left the gym. Not just a little sprinkle, but deluging buckets of the stuff. She was already sweaty from her workout, but with no umbrella, she might as well have gotten into the shower fully clothed.

Scrambling gratefully into her car, she put the key in the ignition and turned it, expecting the usual roar of the engine, but nothing ignited; just cranked in a weak, impotent manner. "You have got to be kidding me," she groaned. "You can't do this to me. You're, you're still under warranty!"

It was dark and stormy and all Eloisa wanted to do was go home. She banged her head on the steering wheel in frustration, proving that, if nothing else, the horn still worked. Not bothering to raise her head, she toyed with the idea of calling her ex-boyfriend, but decided against it. In a town where she only knew her coworkers, there wasn't any family to call, either. "A cab," she decided. It was the only viable solution--either that or a tow truck, or both. It was getting pretty late, but at least her cell phone still worked.

Glancing up at the lights in the gym, she decided that it was worth the effort to be in a warm, dry place long enough to make a call and wait for her ride. Yeah, it was worth it.

"Just one more try," she muttered, giving the key another turn. Nothing happened--nothing new, that is. She was about to open the door when she heard a tap on the window. Glancing up to see who it was, Eloisa's heart fell into the puddle at her feet; she could almost hear the squishy plop when it landed. It was the gym's resident hunk, Derrick, cowboy hat and all.

"This just couldn't get any worse, could it?" she muttered. "I look like a drowned rat, and he'd look good even after a manure cart tipped over on him." Bowing to the inevitable, she opened the door a crack.

"Sounds like a bad starter," he said, shouting over the din of the rain pounding on the roof. "Had trouble before?"

Eloisa shook her head. "It's practically new."

"Yeah, well, they don't make them like they used to," he said. "Want me to take a look at it?"

Having been the talk of the ladies at the gym, Eloisa knew full well that Derrick wasn't a mechanic, and despite the cowboy hat, had probably never been on a horse. Rumor had it that he was an accountant. A single, unattached accountant. However, the fact that he rarely spoke with any of the women had them all speculating that he was either gay or too stuck on himself to acknowledge anything less than a supermodel.

"Don't bother," she said, making a vain attempt to wave him off. "I'll just call a tow truck or a cab or something."

Derrick rolled his eyes--a gesture which made the muscle-bound blond seem far more human than Eloisa had ever given him credit for in the past. "Do you really think I'd let. . . " He broke off there and heaved an exasperated sigh, he went on, "Contrary to popular belief, chivalry is not dead."

"You don't have to stay with me or drive me home," Eloisa said firmly. "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

Rain was dripping off the brim of his hat, but Derrick didn't seem to notice, nor did he comment on her declaration of independence. "Look, I've been wanting to say something. . . I'm not much of a talker, but I--" Finally acknowledging the rain, he said abruptly, "Could we have this conversation somewhere else?"

"Like where?"

"Anywhere that's dry."

Eloisa was within a hairsbreadth of telling him to get in her car when she realized how stupid it would be. Granted, he was a known entity, but only up to a point. She might know his name and a little bit about him, but she'd also seen the muscles. He could easily overpower her in just about any situation up to, and possibly including, one in which she was armed. "I really should just call a tow truck."

"Maybe," he admitted. "But this has nothing to do with your car." Her bewildered expression must have prompted him to explain, for he added, "It's just an excuse--a pretty good one, actually."

"For what?"

"To, um, you know. . . talk to you."

"You need an excuse for that?"

"Well, yeah. Like I said, I'm not much of a talker. I just--" He broke off there, seeming very irritated or agitated--she couldn't tell which. "Oh, hell, I give up. Forget it. But, please, let me go back to the gym and call for help. I'll stick around 'til they get here."

It finally dawned on her that he wasn't only offering to help, he was hitting on her, or trying to. Unfortunately, he wasn't very good at it--either that or he was the most subtle pick-up artist she'd ever encountered. Just pretending to be too damned shy to speak to a girl could be quite appealing--and disarming.

"That would be very kind of you."

"Yeah, well, at least I'm good for something," he muttered.

Eloisa watched his retreating figure as he walked back to the gym, pulling his collar up around his neck, his head bowed against the rain. His walk was purposeful, but she suspected that if there'd been a can lying in the street, he'd have kicked it.

Staring at the rivulets running down the windshield, Eloisa waited, wondering if she should take him up on his other offer. Conversation, he'd said, but he'd also admitted that he wasn't much of a talker. What else did he have in mind? Sex? Oh, surely not! He was the kind of gorgeous hunk that no woman in her right mind would turn down, and yet he seemed to be the most painfully shy and insecure man she'd ever met.

He returned before she'd had much time to ponder his odd behavior. This time, however, she unlocked the door and motioned for him to get in. In the confined space, his masculine scent was magnified; just inhaling it made her wish he had been talking about sex. She'd seen his body; the power in those heavily muscled thighs and that fabulous ass would pretty much guarantee endless, mind-blowing sex. Unless, of course, he had no dick to speak of.

"It'll be three hours before a tow truck can get here," he reported. "Want to wait, or do you want the cab?" Then, not waiting for her reply, he blurted out, "I'll take you home--or anyplace else you want to go. I won't try anything, I promise. Just let me help you."

"A guy like you should be promising me that you would try something," she said with a smile. "--you know, as incentive?"

Clearly taken aback, he said. "You'd want that?"

Eloisa couldn't help but laugh. "You're quite a hunk, Derrick--and, yes, I know your name. Trust me, every woman who lays eyes on you is probably lusting after you. I can't believe you're so shy."

"Wasn't always like this," he mumbled. "Used to be little and skinny and scared to death of girls."

Something told her that not everything had changed. "Still scared to death of girls?"

"Oh, God, yes!" he said, as though relieved to actually say it out loud. "Terrified."

"But you wanted to talk to me? Why?"

"Thought you looked nice," he said. "Very friendly, and--" Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he turned away.

"And?"

"I can't tell you the other part."

"Why not?"

Turning back toward her, he shook his head. "Sounds too crass."

"Try me."

When their eyes met, his expression was bleak, but hungry at the same time. "Just looking at you makes my dick hard." He turned away again. "Shouldn't say that, but it's true."

"I don't believe it," she scoffed. "Even my ex-boyfriend didn't--" She broke off there before adding reflectively, "--though that might be why he's my ex."

"He's an idiot," Derrick said flatly.

"Ah, so you've met him?"

"No, he's an idiot for not wanting you."

The fact that he'd ignored her subtle sarcasm made his words carry that much more weight. Eloisa felt their impact right in the middle of her chest. He might be terrified of girls, but he certainly knew what to say. The tension between them intensified and she felt herself trembling to the point that her teeth were chattering.

"You're cold," he said, but before she could reply, he'd leaned over and taken her in his arms. His shirt was wet, but he was still hot. The feel of his body against hers was shocking, soothing, and exciting, all at the same time. She was clinging to him, craving his heat. A deep groan rumbled through his chest. She burrowed into him, her lips pressed against his neck as she inhaled his scent. He smelled like sex and rain, and the aroma filled her head, driving out all rational thought. Her tongue swept across his neck of its own accord, and she felt his muscles tense, heard his soft gasp as she tasted his salty sweat.

His strong hand cupped her chin, pushing her head back, as his head descended. When his lips captured hers in a desperate kiss--almost as though he was expecting her to scream or push him away--she melted into him, her lips parting as she let him in. She heard his low growl as he pulled her out of her seat. He was so strong, she felt like a rag doll in his arms. His hands were all over her, warming her with their heat, driving her wild with need for him. She'd never reacted so strongly to any man's touch before. He wasn't practiced and skillful, either; he was fumbling and frantic, trying to get as much of her in his hands as he could before she made him stop.

But she didn't; she encouraged him. Pulling open his shirt to expose his sculpted chest, she went for his nipples, first kissing them and then teasing them with the tip of her tongue. The sound he made deep in his throat was one Eloisa knew she would remember until her dying day. She fell forward onto his chest as he pulled the lever to recline the seat. She was on top of him, he was pulling up her shirt, and then her breasts were in his hands, his thumbs stroking her nipples. She was making sounds she'd never heard before, soft, whimpers of incredible pleasure as his caresses sent tingling waves of delight coursing through her body.

She tugged at his waistband, letting out a frustrated moan when she encountered his belt. Then it fell away and his hard cock sprang up and she went down on him, savoring his slick, salty meat. She'd never seen one like it--thick and long with a sinuous curve that promised extraordinary delights. His rough scrotum softened with her wet kisses; his own fluids providing a nearly frictionless glide. Derrick stiffened beneath her, his head thrown back in sheer ecstasy as she sucked in his balls. He moved against her mouth, slipping his nuts in and out past her lips. Eloisa was moaning, her body on fire as orgasm after orgasm ripped through her.

"Ride me," he whispered. "Get on my dick and ride."

Eloisa skimmed off her shorts and climbed on. His cock slid into her like it belonged there. Taking in the full length of him, she let out a muffled cry. He was so hot, so big, so alive. . .

"Okay?" he gasped.

"Oh, yeah," she sighed. "The best ever."

Bracing her hands on his hard chest, she rocked up and down on him. He was pushing buttons inside her she didn't even know existed. Then he began to move beneath her, using those thickly muscled thighs to bounce her up and down on his cock. Eloisa was moaning with every breath she took, her instincts taking over as she careened into orgasm. Her pussy tightened and she cried out as she felt the first spurt of his semen. Hard thrusts pushed him deeper within her until she could take no more and collapsed on his chest.

His arms were around her again, keeping her safe, keeping her warm. "Can I take you home now?"

"Only if you promise not to leave."

"No danger of that," he said. "I'm all yours."

Saturday's Cowboy!

Since Derrick was so popular yesterday (and Sharon sent me more pics of him) I thought we might concentrate on him for a day or two.

Here's one of him in a hat, which proves that he can be as much a cowboy as any man.
















Plus, we have a few that demonstrate just what that yummydoodle will do when it gets interested. Fascinating little "wave" thing going on there, isn't it? Very cute!



























No doubt about it, he's a hottie!

Another bareback rider!

Home, home on the range. . . .

Okay, I know he's not wearing a hat, but he IS on a horse, which is more than I can say for some of the other cowboys this week. He ain't a cowboy if he can't ride!

I used to ride bareback as a kid, but you wouldn't catch me on a horse without a saddle nowadays. I'm way too chicken and I land very hard when I fall off!

Of course, given the nature of this blog, I don't think I'd need a saddle to ride this cowboy. He has all sorts of great parts to hang on to. Nice, strong neck, lovely, well-defined external obliques, and great pecs and abs. Fabulous arms, too.

And since you all know I can't keep my mouth shut, he has a highly suckable cock and delicious-looking balls!

Have a nice day!