All right! So guess what? One Good Cowboy is up over at Smashwords, which is fab because you can get it for FREE right now until April 9 if you use coupon code XE88V at checkout.
It's also up over at Amazon: US, UK, DE, ES, FR, IT.
I'm still waiting on the approval and distribution through the premium catalogue over at Smashwords, but you all probably know how that goes, ha.
Believe it or not, I actually updated my website this week. I still have a ton of work to do: the excerpt page for One Good Cowboy is all wonky and I'd really love to redesign the site into a section for readers and a section for writers (with the writer section having a collection of my blog posts on writing and self-publishing and the like). The program I use to design and publish my website is just so incredibly slow that I get very easily frustrated.
Anyway, I thought I'd share an excerpt of the short with you dear readers:
Heather rolled her eyes. Knowing she didn't have a real shot with Justin lessened the sting of rejection but it did nothing for her exasperation with Ty. "Oh, and I suppose you're good enough for me?"
Ty lifted his shoulders in an eloquent shrug. "No." One corner of his mouth quirked up in a self-deprecating half-smile. "I know you're too good for me. I want you anyway."
Heat flared low in her belly and spread through her, a summer wildfire of desire. Seven years ago, she would have given anything to hear him say that.
Seven years ago.
Things had changed since then.
"Shut up, Ty."
"You owe me a beer," he countered.
"You're supposed to be leaving."
"I want a beer."
He wouldn't leave until he got that beer, she knew. She looked at him, at the hat he hadn't taken off and the new wrinkles around his eyes, at the long thin nose that had been broken more than once and now sat a little crooked on his handsome face, at the shape of his mouth so frequently set in a firm line but the lips still so kissable. Exhaustion swept through her. The fight melted away, taking the square of her shoulders with it. She just wanted the night to be over. Fighting with him would only make it longer.
"Fine." She served another beer from the cooler.
"Thank you."
Heather went to finish washing the dirty drinking glasses. "Why did you come back?"
Resignation passed over Ty's face. "Where else was I going to go? My family is here. Crystal left me. Denver gets cold."
"Canyon gets cold," she pointed out.
"Not as cold as Denver," he said, giving her the feeling that he wasn't talking about the weather.
Silence stretched between them, a tenuous thing punctuated by the splash of her hands in water and the wet sound of him sipping from the bottle. Heather wondered how he was, really, surprising herself; despite everything, she guessed she still cared at least as much as a friend would. He had done well for himself in the eight years he rode professionally. Being forced out because of an injury had to hurt more than the reconstructed bone in his leg and the pins in his hip. She winced. Ty was strong. He was confident. The mental image of him injured and weak was wrong. Some men were supposed to be invincible.
Heather shied from that particular thought. She rinsed the glasses under the tap, telling herself that the last thing she needed was a rekindled case of hero worship. What had that ever gotten her before? A broken heart, that's what, and more than once. She thought about Crystal instead, a pretty redhead with a sweet face and kind eyes. It had been long enough that Heather might have understood why her father walked out on her mother--family life wasn't exactly the thrill-a-minute Buck seemed to need, and Bobbi had bought the Wild Card with the intention of settling for good in order to give them a place that was home once he retired--but she didn't understand what would make a woman walk away from the man she loved when he needed her most.
"I'm sorry Crystal left."
"It wasn't meant to be."
"You don't believe in that fate bullshit?" Heather couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice.
"Why wouldn't I?" Ty frowned at her.
She shook her head, disappointed in him. "Love isn't like that."
"Maybe it is for some people."
She tamped down the sudden bitterness and mustered some semblance of humor. "Ty Youngblood is a romantic. Who knew?"
"Shh. Keep it down." His eyes darted furtively to the left and right.
Her lips twisted into a smirk. "What? Afraid someone will hear? Oh, no, your reputation will be ruined!" She gasped theatrically.
"I have a reputation?" He cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Hmm." She frowned. "You know, not really." Mostly, gossip came through idle chitchat while she was serving drinks, or she overheard it from the girls at the Wild Hearts across the highway. But everything she had heard about Ty since he'd left had come straight from his mother. Heather doubted anything Mrs. Youngblood had told her was less than a fact served with a liberal dose of pride. Or worry.
Ty heaved a sigh. "I guess I'm not special enough to talk about."
"Oh, you're special all right."
He grinned at her. "And what do they say about you, Heather Wild?"
Frozen fingers closed around her throat. No, she wasn't going there. She jerked the bag of glass bottles from the bin. "I have to take these outside."
"Want some company?"
"No." Heather hefted the bag and started for the back door.
The rumors after Cooper had bailed were graphic and vicious. She scratched the heat-prickled skin beneath the hollow of her throat. They didn't matter. Not then, not now. She wasn't that scared and lonely sixteen-year-old anymore, damn it. She was an adult. She didn't need anyone's approval, certainly not Ty's.
Heather sighed. She pushed through the back door, into the mid-spring night. Who was she kidding? As long as she remained in Canyon, she would forever be the child her father abandoned, the easy target for sleazy older guys. Labels thrived in small communities and the only way to escape the label was to escape the community.
She tossed the bag into the recycling dumpster and stepped back. Eyes closed, face turned up, she took a deep breath. The dry scent of the desert and the sweet-sick stink of the dumpsters filled her nose, her mind, pushed away the thoughts she didn't want to think. The night was nearly silent here. For a few moments, she could be alone.
Pursuing Justin was single-minded of her. He wasn't a cowboy. He was as far from being a cowboy as he could possibly be. He was only a poor replacement for what she really wanted. If she was honest with herself--and she really hated that kind of honesty because it meant she'd lied to herself at some point--deep down she knew that going after Justin was nothing but misguided rebellion against herself. She knew what she wanted. What she'd always wanted.
Ty.
Stupid cowboy.
The sound of boots scuffing on concrete caught her attention. A breeze moved her hair across her face. She stifled a sigh and brushed away the errant curls as she turned around.
He stood on the stoop, door shut behind him, hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. His body was loose, legs bowed, stance relaxed. He'd taken off his hat and the breeze ruffled his black hair. He smiled at her.
"I said no." But there was no venom in her voice.
"I'm not keeping you company," he said. He breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly. "It's a nice night. I wanted some fresh air."
"Out by the dumpsters." Skepticism colored her voice.
"There are drunks out front."
Heather frowned, brow furrowed. "What has gotten into you?"
"Me?" He shook his head. "Nothing. Why?"
"I don't remember you being like this before."
Ty said simply, "I've changed."
He had. In a way she couldn't quite define. She looked away, rubbing absently at her upper arms. "Haven't we all," she murmured to herself.
"You sure have." He stepped off the stoop. "You used to be sweet. You used to like me." Regret tinged his voice.
"I still like you."
"Yeah?" He sauntered close, so close her nose nearly touched the pearl-snap button in the center of his chest. "Prove it."
Heather rocked back, tipping her head up to search his face. "What?"
"Kiss me."
***
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