And a lucky winner’s name will be drawn to win an eBook copy, so be sure to leave a comment to get your name in the drawing!!!
It's true, my heroes are cowboys...
There is nothing that stirs the soul and brings out the internal need in a woman, that a cowboy. Uniquely American, these knights of the sagebrush are swirled in the mystique of history, folklore and legend.
They have fired the imagination of writers such as Owen Wister's Virginian considered by many as the first true western novel and involves iconic themes of high action, lust for revenge, the human emotions of love verses hate, and friendships that humans forge in order to survive in the harsh environment of the old west. Don't these sound like the basis for any romantic novel?
Cowboys are the heart and soul of the old west. Their stoic emotions of riding for the brand and doing what is right in the face of what is easy brands them and makes them stand apart. They are fiercely independent, preferring the wide lonesome wilderness to the hustle and bustle of towns. It's much easier to talk to a horse than to charm a woman. But a woman, worth her grit knows the heart of these wandering souls. Their want and need to care for their man over comes their fear of being alone.
Think about some of the great cowboy movies we've all watched. Those immortal lines "Shane, Shane come back!" or Gary Cooper looking at the clock as Grace Kelly awaits her wedding day wondering if she will be a widow before properly married.
One of my favorites is in an old John Wayne film called Angel and the Badman, when the heroine Gail Russell comes to tears knowing that Quirt Evans, played by Wayne lives and dies by his gun. This is a direct conflict with her religious upbringing. She tells him, "I didn't know love could come to one and not the other. If you tell me you want me I'll go with you..." And before the rest of the words are uttered, Wayne sweeps her into his arms and gives her one of the hottest kisses I've ever seen.
Talk about branding your woman, that scene, that image has always stayed with me. I draw on that when I'm writing those passion-filled sequences.
In Walls of Jericho, I tap in to the emotions of men of means using their will to break up a love affair. But when the heroine, Charlotte Murray wants to capture the horse of her dreams only one man will truly do - Jericho Rivers, the man who left her over five years ago to marry another. When their love affair threatens to rekindle, her father sends another powerful figure in to break them apart. Will love prevail in spite of her father's determination to over ride his daughter's wishes?
The Walls of Jericho is out now at Passion in Print.
Jericho Rivers spent five years trying to forget Charlotte Murray and it's all for nothing. When an elusive stallion emerges, she must ask for help. One look and he remembers all too well. Passions flair and a bitter betrayal is exposed. When the walls of Jericho tumble, can lovers unite?
Read an except
"What happened or did not happen between us--” she paused. “Jericho, I couldn’t live knowing my actions cost you your happiness.”
They were so close. He could feel an unstrung rope swirl about them, binding their souls together. Her breath came in gulps and he could see the rise of her full breasts against her cotton shirt, which served as a barrier to his hands. He wanted her. No, he told himself and stiffened his resolve, choosing to focus instead on the long five years of simmering anger. “Nice words. Tell me, did you learn them in Chicago or New York?”
Her eyes widened, but he knew she was no innocent.
“You did not cover your tracks well, Charlotte.” He couldn’t help himself. He stepped closer. The faint scent of rosewater lifted from her body. Does she still carry that handkerchief dipped in that perfume between her luscious mounds? “Do you think the local papers would not have jumped on the reports of Michael Murray’s daughter dancing with the Governor’s son?” He leaned closer. Her color rose high in her cheeks. “What gowns you wore. Your latest conquests, all the way to the east coast.”
“It... It wasn’t like that,” she began to protest.
Jericho wasn’t in the mood. His blood stirred and overruled the cool of his head. His arms snaked about her middle and snatched her to his chest. His glance focused on her full lips. “Tell me,” he said, through gritted teeth. “Did they kiss like this?”
He silenced her with a crushing kiss. Her fingers flattened against his chest as if to push him away. He moved his mouth across hers as if she were some sugary confection he could not savor enough. Her fingers relaxed and sank deep into the muscles along his shoulders clutching him tighter. His plan to bring her to submission, make her remember all that they had been, all that they had lost, slipped away. The more his lips touched hers, the more he could not forget.
To purchase your copy...
You can catch up with Tessa on her web http://tessaberkley.com/
at twitter http://tessaberkley.com or on facebook http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100003360054050&sk=wall