I’m happy to announce that Frenchman’s Cowboy will be releasing again this month. This book was previously part of a series from a publisher; it has been revised and will now be a part of my Cowboy Matchmaker series, where the Flings will be contemporary stories and there will be other stories in the series that are paranormal, but they’re all featuring hot cowboys looking for and finding love across the LGBTQIA+ spectrum.
Dustin leaned back against the headboard and willed his aching body to take the weekend off, too. Too damn much, if the truth were told, except he couldn’t admit that to the world. Sure, everyone might guess rodeo was a tough sport. One of his buddies had broken a leg and been told he had the joints of a seventy-year-old. He’d been pushing thirty-five, which made him crazy old in this sport.
Dustin’s body hurt all the time. Old injuries, fresh injuries, it didn’t matter. And, honestly, if he got the gold buckle this year, he might retire. Use his significant savings and buy a ranch somewhere. Maybe raise some rough stock, or perhaps trail ride for the rest of his life.
Could he live without a thousand pounds of pissed-off equine beneath him every weekend? He wasn’t sure he could.
He wished he could blame his slump on Tony’s memory, but he couldn’t. He’d been interested in the reality show about jousting so he could make some cash without battering his body. Dustin laughed out loud at the thought. Yeah, like riding draft horses and getting shoved off them with a pointy wooden stick wasn’t battering his body. He grinned and suddenly wished he had a beer.
Meeting the high-rolling Frenchman during the show’s taping hadn’t been in his plans. He’d had to get back on the circuit, and Tony needed to get back to his underwear ads and his polo hadn’t helped either. Dustin had cowboyed up and done what he’d needed to on the television shoot, then left, as his contract had required. Nights like these, he wondered what the hell he’d gotten out of the bargain.
Except, glancing around at the posh hotel room and folding back the edge of the comforter to run his hands over the super soft sheets, he had his answer. A chance to have a one-night stand—the perfect one-night stand if his bull-riding buddy was to be believed—and get his mojo, and his career, back on track. Funny how he could sit there as the top saddle-bronc rider in the world and not feel like he was on track. Maybe he’d lost his course and needed to forget that fact for a few hours.
Really wanting that beer, he slid his legs over the edge of the mattress and stood gingerly, before hobbling over to the mini bar. He opened it to see that the resort stocked a good variety of expensive brews. Grabbing a label he recognized, he twisted off the top. By the time he made it back to the bed and had his leg settled, he’d drunk half of the beer and set it on the nightstand.
With a grumble, he shifted enough to pull off his boots, then contemplated putting the bolster pillow beneath his knee. He took another pull from the bottle instead. He wasn’t about to meet his one-night stand like a cripple.
When he checked the television again, the roping events were on, and he turned down the volume. Those guys were good, and it took talent. Somehow, he didn’t think it as exciting as the eight-second ride the rough stock athletes gave.
He shrugged and finished the beer.
A key card clicked in the lock. Good, he didn’t feel like getting off the bed. Must be his date, or fuck buddy, or whatever he should call him. Why hadn’t he thought to grab two bottles out of the mini fridge before he’d sat down.
The door opened. His heart raced like it did during the scant seconds before the chute opened and the bronc reared out. He held position, like holding his mark out—no use getting caught at the gate—and waited for his date to enter.
Shock sucked the air from his lungs. “Tony?”. The stunning blond man, whose perfect hairstyle had to have come from a salon, strode into the room. He turned, stared at the bed, and stopped.
“Shit,” he whispered, and Dustin startled. Big words filled Tony’s vocabulary, not the coarse, four-letter ones he’d just used. Had Tony meant to be heard?
The latch clicked shut, the overnight bag he’d been wheeling into the room forgotten.
The man stood there. His jaw didn’t drop, but clear surprise filled his expression. Dustin hadn’t gotten to the top of his sport by being emotional.
Where other cowboys slammed the chutes or stomped their hats, he remained stoic, good ride or bad. That talent served him well right then.
The man who’d walked through the door was the last one he’d expect.
Frenchman’s Cowboy will be released on January 14 at all major ebook retailers and is available to purchase now at the Spicy Ebooks bookstore in epub format for immediate reading.
