Western Erotic Romance ~ Or Lasso Me, Cowboy

Belly up the bar, ladies, this is a sweet and sexy tale of old meets new, or how trends in our culture recycle themselves. Or how you just can’t keep a good cowgirl down, not one who wants her own special cowboy to ride hard and put away wet.
Yep, lasso me, cowboy, I’m ready and willin’ to be yours. That’s one of the newest trends in erotic romance.
Within the past year, to my notice, alpha-hero cowboys have become hot property in most of the erotic romance subgenres. Happily, some readers can’t get enough these tough, but mushy hearted ~ *do-anything-for-their-woman* ~ *fast with a gun and a cocky grin* men ~ a good thing because I want to write my own stories and live the Western Erotic Romance adventure.
I’ve had so many swoony-heart crushes on TV-show cowboy heroes growing up, I’d hesitate to name them all here, space being at a premium. Suffice it to say, there has never been a lack of inspiration, whether it’s Roy Rogers, Bonanza or James West of Wild, Wild West ~ and of course, two of my absolute favorites, The Lone Ranger and Zorro (blog coming soon).
Oh soar-my-heart, yes, I confess, I do adore a man who can ride a horse really well... yeehaw!
Yep, the Westerns of yesteryear have met today’s erotic romance, and it’s a marriage made in absolute big-sky heaven.
Contemporary sexy-hunk cowboys are at home on the range, on a modern dude ranch, riding in the rodeo, enjoying the high life of Las Vegas, or residing in the marrying town of Wayback, Texas, a popular series put out by The Wild Rose Press.
Cowboys are also dark, tall and deadly vampires, who know how to make love with one bite. They are alpha-dangerous werewolves who know how to seduce a woman to every pleasure.
Yep, make-me-wanna-ride cowboys come in every species of shapeshifter ~ Big Cats like tawny cougars and stallion shifters like my hero, Trail Drojovv, in my WIP ~ Stallion of Ash and Flame ~ He alters into his horse form to save the heroine, Seneca, in this scene-snippet.

“No!” He heard her scream, trying to protect him from the Sheriff’s bullets.
Seeing through his blood-red rage, he snaked his neck. His teeth trapped the Sheriff’s forearm, and he crunched down, then ruthlessly twisted. The gun flew out of Pork Belly’s grip. He grimaced with excruciating pain, and grunted, not yelling because shock had him in its grip. Drojovv head-butted him against the side of the car. Rearing, he attacked with his hooves, pummeling his chest and shoulders until he was utterly cowed.
Wild with the need to make certain his Mate would never be harmed, Drojovv flailed his hooves around the Sheriff’s upper torso. Both car windows shattered.
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Recently, I purchased the historical western erotic romance, INTIMATE STRANGERS by Gem Sivad, because I’m impressed with the powerful realism of the excerpts I’ve read.
Instantly, I’m transported back to that time in the Old West, and I’m living the love story of Lucy and Ambrose as they live it. Nothing better than that. I can’t wait until I get some time to read it, so I can lose myself in the type of western I’ve always wanted to read.

Here’s a scene Gem kindly sent me with her intro ~
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Back on the Double-Q with her husband, Lucy has no memory of him. Ambrose is determined that she will once again be his wife, memory or not (and maybe it would be better if she didn’t remember their sad marriage of before.)
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Whenever he could, more often than not, Ambrose Quince came in from the ranch work and washed up on the back porch before sitting down in the kitchen with a cup of coffee to watch her cook.

It irritated her to step around him as he cluttered up her work space. She only tolerated his being in the way because Brody was delighted that her pa was visiting them each afternoon.

Lucy was not. Each time she softened her voice, controlling her need to slap Brody’s father or chase him from the kitchen with a broom, she did so to ingratiate herself with her daughter. And he knew it.

“Mr. Quince, are you watching for mistakes or looking for my flaws?” Her voice was sharp this afternoon as she tried to erect a barrier of words between them. It was usually unnecessary with Brody talking a mile a minute, but Alex had lured his sister to the barn to help with an orphaned calf, abandoning Lucy to the unwanted attentions of her husband.

“Neither, Mrs. Quince,” he drawled after frowning over her formal address. “I’m just wondering how many fellas came courtin’ after they ate their first Lucy-cooked meal?”

The question was meant to be teasing, but came out as more of a possessive growl. Lucy let her voice convey the full measure of her dislike of him, relieved that for once, she had no reason to pretend.

“One,” she declared grimly, watching sham curiosity change to jealousy. “But after I shot off half his ear, the traffic from the dining room trickled down to just Roberta.”

Ambrose settled deeper in his chair facing her, as though preparing to withstand the siege if she pulled out one of her weapons and started slinging lead at him. He didn’t bother to hide his gratification at her answer and ventured another question.

“Got any sugar for me today?” Brody made sure they had a treat waiting for him every afternoon. Cinnamon rolls left from breakfast, apple pie made for supper, johnnycake and beans when he came in roaring hungry and needed a tide-me-over.

Suddenly, Lucy wanted him out of her kitchen. She wanted the innuendoes and sly comments stopped.

“What do you mean by that, sir?” She could feel the flush of outrage heating her cheeks as she glared at him. It was the way he said sugar—it just made her want to scream at him. The fierce heat in his glance was at odds with his bland demeanor.

He shrugged answering, “Just hoping for some of your hidden delights, sweetheart.” His face was inscrutable, but his lip did that little twitch that Lucy had come to realize concealed his humor.

She slapped a withered apple in front of him, the last of the dried bunch Brody had supplied. “This will have to do. I’ve got nothing else to offer.”

His look made her tense and uneasy. When he stood and walked toward her, she backed against the counter, frightened by his sudden approach. But he reached past her shoulder and pulled out the slab of chocolate cake Brody had secreted away for him.

“I figured you’d forgotten something you had saved back just for me.” His chest brushed closer to her shoulder than was needed, and he leaned over her closer than necessary. Head even with hers, resting one hand on her back as he retrieved the cake slice, he inhaled deeply. “My God, I’ve missed that smell.”

Rattled at his proximity, Lucy demanded defensively, “What smell?”

Ambrose paused, bending closer to her neck to breathe deeply. “…Salt … Sugar …
Cinnamon…”

“I thought you said I didn’t cook before. Did you hang your nose over the shoulder of somebody else who quit?”

He stopped to consider, almost brushing his lips against her neck before he continued, “No other cooks, no other women. I guess I must be remembering you … the scent of Lucy Quince. That’s what I’ve missed, the smell of my woman.”

The words made her gasp, and she was unpleasantly aware of a tightening in her chest and her nipples pebbling beneath the rough material of her dress. Her breath heaved in and out, fighting some wild passion that made her want to—She looked around for something to hit him with.
~~~

INTIMATE STRANGERS is available at Liquid Silver Books where you can read the first chapter.
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If you have a hankerin’ for those drool-worthy cowboys, they’re just waiting to show you a real good time at epublishers like Siren-BookStrand, where western erotic romance is flourishing big as the Montana sky.

Happy Romantic Trails
May your most romantic dreams come true...

Savanna Kougar

~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~