If you dance anything like you touch, you might have to carry me back to the bar…

The Dancing Pony pickup line of the week is….

A young man named Rick came in the Dancing Pony this weekend with his companion, a seeing eye dog.

He always sits at the bar. And the dog, Ginger, is responsive to his needs and never barks or causes any problems.

The only challenge we have is keeping the ladies away from Ginger. She’s a beautiful golden lab and friendly but it’s not good to distract a working dog so we have to be careful and watch out for our friend.

Anyway Rick was sitting at the bar having a beer while talking to one of the bartenders. He seemed a little low for some reason and was explaining his woes to the bartender when a young lady came over and sat next to him.

She noticed Ginger and spoke in a sweet tone.

“Hey there, gorgeous.”

The bartender greeted the lady and said, “Please don’t play with Ginger, ma’am. She’s on duty and it’s not good to pet or distract her.”

The lady looked at Rick, nodded in understanding, and said, “Well, I hope that doesn’t apply to the owner because I’d rather distract him than the dog. I’d like to get to know you better before any petting or playing happens, though.”

Rick turned to her, a little embarrassed and said, “I’m sorry. These guys are always looking out for me.”

The bartender leaned in to Rick and said,

“I think your ‘woes’ are about to be ‘wows’, brother. She’s beautiful. I’m not exaggerating. I’ll leave you to it.”

Rick turned to her and said, “My name is Rick.”

“I’m Felicia. I just moved to Divine a couple of months ago from Crystal City. My employer needed me to relocate, so here I am. What about you? How long have you lived here?”

“I was born and raised in Divine, actually. I love this town, even though I’ve never seen it.”

Felicia giggled, and then hesitated. “Oh, gosh, I hope that was a joke.”

Rick laughed and said, “Yeah, my feeble attempt at humor. You’re one of the few people that has ever actually laughed, though. Maybe I should work on my delivery.”

Felicia studied his face for a moment and said, “I think your delivery was just fine. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but does that mean you were born blind or was it something that happened later?”

Rick said, “No, I was born this way. There were complications when I was born. I won’t bore you with details.”

The two talked for a while and then Felicia asked,

“Would you dance with me?”

Rick gulped the last of his beer and then rubbed his jaw. Finally he said, “I don’t know how. I’ve never danced with anyone, except my mom when I was really little and stood on her feet.”

Felicia slipped out of her chair, mindful of ginger’s presence, and took both of his hands in hers. “Good, then you will have to stay close so I can guide you.”

“O-O-Okay,” Rick stuttered, and then said, “But I want you to let me do something when we’re done, if I haven’t broken any of your toes.”

Felicia giggled and said, “What do you have in mind, big guy?”

“Will you allow me to look at you—with my hands, I mean? I know it makes some people uncomfor—”

Before he could finish explaining, Felicia lifted his hands and placed his palms on her cheeks. “I hope you’re not disappointed. I’m no Miss America.”

He ran his fingertips lightly over her face and down her throat, taking his time, and when she didn’t retreat he stroked up to her nape and slid his fingers upward into her hair. She smiled hesitantly, as if bracing for his reaction, but encouraged him by stroking his biceps.

“Wow,” Rick said as he slid his hands over her shoulders. He smiled broadly and shook his head as if he was gathering his wits. “You’re really beautiful. Thank you for allowing me to do that. Now I can see you in my mind’s eye.”

He grinned even wider, as if he liked what he was “seeing.”

Flushed and slightly out of breath, Felicia said, “Are you kidding? That was intense. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I nearly fainted.”

Then Rick stood from his chair and slipped his hand into hers. “Think you can handle me on the dance floor while Ginger takes a break?”

Felicia looked down at their joined hands and said,

“Honey, if you dance anything like you touch, you might have to carry me back to the bar.”

They danced several times that night and Ginger didn’t seem to mind. I think that’s the first time in memory that I’ve called the cab company and cancelled a cab ride home.

~~~

She’s got a temper to go along with that red hair of hers…

The Dancing Pony pickup line of the week is….

A couple of cowgirls were sitting at the bar talking about tractors.

I know what you’re thinking but this is common around here, so bear with me. One of the ladies, a redhead, who happens to be mechanically inclined, was explaining some trouble she was having with her John Deere.

Her friend, a brunette, who was obviously glazing over from the topic of conversation, finally said,

“Girl, you seriously need a man, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The redhead said, “That’s another problem. All the men I meet are really just looking for someone to cook for them, clean up after them, do their laundry, and play housewife. I can’t stand that stuff and I hate cooking. I need someone who doesn’t mind working a ranch alongside me instead of expecting me to serve their every need.”

All the while, these two cowboys sitting just down the bar were listening in.

One said to the other, “Did you hear that Jake? She’s pretty, with all that red hair. You’re a diesel mechanic. Go introduce yourself to her.”

Jake grinned and said, “Sounds like she’s got a temper to go along with that red hair of hers.”

He didn’t seem all that deterred by the redhead’s temperament.

After some prodding from his buddy, Jake walked over to the two cowgirls and said, “Excuse me, but I couldn’t help but overhear your troubles, ma’am. I’m a mechanic and it sounds to me like you have fuel line problems, maybe a pinched line or a clogged filter, or the like. If you want, I can look at it for you.”

The redhead looked him up and down, and in a sarcastic tone, she replied, “I don’t need your help, cowboy. I—”

Just then she got an elbow in the ribs from her friend, who said, “Hey, give the guy a chance before you go snapping his head off. He might actually be able to help, so put your independence aside for a minute and talk to him. And he’s cute.”

In a voice loud enough for him to hear, the redhead replied, “I know these macho types. I’ll just bet he’d like to impress me with his mechanical know-how.

All men like him really want is some pretty, little thing to cook and clean for him….Or to get laid.”

Undeterred, Jake leaned in close to her and said, “Pretty lady, I was being neighborly. I wasn’t planning to propose. I’m already a good cook. And I have a maid who comes in regularly and cleans for me. And while getting laid will work, I prefer making slow, sweet love. If you’d still like help with your tractor, I’d be happy to look at it. Here’s my card.” He put the card in front of her and she stared at it like a calf looking at a new gate, embarrassment turning her cheeks bright pink.

As Jake walked back to his seat, the brunette gaped at her friend. “What the hell is wrong with you? I know you’re all about being your own woman but get over yourself. He’s sexy as hell and he truly wanted to help you.

No wonder you’re running a ranch all by yourself.”

Looking deflated, the redhead said, “Look, I’m sorry. Maybe I could call him tomorrow and give him a chance at the tractor. I am kind of stuck.” She glanced over at him for a second and it was clear that the tractor was the last thing on her mind.

Her friend said, “I’ll do you one better.” She rummaged around in her purse, pulled out a notepad, and scribbled something on it. Then she got up and went over to the cowboy and gave him the note, chatted amiably with him and his friend for a minute, and then came back.

With the blush still in her cheeks, the redhead said “What was that all about? Are you trying to set me up?”

Her friend said, “YOU? Hell no, Miss Independent Ranch Woman. I need a man!” Then her friend winked and said, “I’m just kidding.

He said he’ll be at your place tomorrow morning at 8:00

to look at the tractor…and whatever else you want ‘fixed’.”

The redhead spewed her beer as laughter erupted between them.

No more was said between the pairs that night but Jake must’ve been one hell of a “mechanic” because he and the redhead came in together the next night and had a great time.

©Heather Rainier 2017

~~~

Author’s Note: Hope you enjoyed this Pickup Line from the Dancing Pony. It was originally published on Facebook in 2014. Periodically I’ll be posting more of the old pickup lines for new and old readers alike to enjoy.

Love, Heather

All I Want For Christmas Is a Woobie Under My Tree by Heather Rainier

Chapter One

“You still haven’t told me what you want for Christmas,”

Jack murmured as he carefully squeezed Grace’s warm backside to his front-side. Few things felt better than making love to his wife. Giving her a slow thrust, he reveled in her sweet and snug pussy, determined to take his time.

“Mmmm,” Grace purred as she rubbed her luxuriant, warm ass against him, tightening her grip on their entwined fingers. With a round and not very subtle undulation of her hips, she said, “Right now, I’d be thrilled if you would fuck me until I see stars. You have no idea how much I’d love to get this show on the road.”

Jack chuckled, but held his libido in check. There was nothing he’d like more than to give her exactly what she wanted. A good fucking. A hard orgasm. And maybe a kick-start to labor. Poor Grace wasn’t overdue but she was definitely ready to be done.

Grace reached back and caressed his ass. “You want to fuck me, don’t you? I know you do,” she purred. He could hear the smile in her voice as she urged him on.

He caressed the lower swell of her mounded abdomen

before reaching for the hot, slick haven between her thighs. “Darlin’, nothin’ would make me happier. Don’t worry, I’m gonna give you what you want, but you’re gonna let me be in charge.”

As he kissed the fragrant flesh beneath her ear he flexed his hips, thrusting slow and deep. Her moan and sigh were music to his ears and he smiled as he leaned forward enough to watch her face. Her eyelids slid closed and she caught her lip between her teeth as she arched back against him.

Breathing her in, he focused his stroking on the hot, slippery and swollen bundle of her clit, sliding his fingers back and forth, side to side, just the way she liked it, according to her answering moan. “Yes, like that.”

Keeping his thrusts even, he nibbled at her earlobe and said, “You make the sweetest sounds when I fuck you just right, Grace. I’ll never get enough of you. All of you.”

The tap of a small foot or elbow at his inner forearm

told him that their early morning play had awakened their unborn daughter, currently nestled beneath Grace’s heart.

Love, overwhelming in its strength and depth, brought an all over flush of heat to his body and he groaned with pleasure even as his vision misted momentarily. Making love to Grace was a spiritual event, even more so than in the past. He truly loved her more with each passing day. Every single thing about her turned him on, and made him even more determined to give her what she needed.

When he changed up the stroking pattern over her clit, she gasped and cried out, “Yes, oh yes! More, just like that. Fuck me, Jack. Please, oh please!” Her sensual moans were his undoing and he increased his thrusts as she arched back against him. Her hot, lush pussy was just too hard to resist and he gave in to her, fucking her until she dug her nails into his buttocks. “That’s it! Oh, I’m coming! I’m coming!”

“Yes,” he growled as he held her to him with a firm grip and pumped hard. Ecstasy created a haze of rapture he gave in to, falling over the brink of lust. Searing shards of pleasure blazed through his nerve endings and he gave a loud groan as he came, thrusting hard with each orgasmic surge.

When his senses returned, it was to find she was giggling.

Gently pulling out, he leaned over her so he could look into her beautiful flushed face. His extremities still tingled and she looked up at him with those bright blue eyes of hers. “Woman, you are spoiled. You know that?”

Giggling some more, she nodded. “Are you still going to get a tree for me?”

“I’m not sure I can feel my legs at the moment. Give me time to recover from servicing my demanding woman and I’ll consider it. In the meantime, you still haven’t told me what you want for Christmas.”

With slow, careful movements, she turned from one side to the other, a maneuver that took longer in her advanced state of pregnancy. When she was situated, he pulled the covers over her. Before she’d awoken, he’d gotten up to start a fire in the mistress suite fireplace to take away the early morning chill, but he didn’t want to risk her being cold anyway. So he was a little protective. Her smile as she snuggled closer to him told him she appreciated the effort.

Resting her golden head on his bicep,

she played his chest hair and then looked up at him. “All I want for Christmas is a woobie under my tree.”

With a chuckle, he replied, “Lucky for you, you’ve got three of them. If you count Grant-boy, you’ve got four.”

Grace chuckled. Their son Grant was proving to be just as protective of his mama and sister as Jack, Ethan, and Adam were, although he was thoroughly sick of being Rose Marie’s roping dummy. “I can hardly ask for more.”

“Yeah, you can, darlin’.” He admired her appreciation for what she already possessed but he wanted to do his Christmas shopping soon and he really needed to know what was on her secret wish list.

“Charity has a list, because she knew you would all be asking. There’s one item you’ll have to take her shopping for since she knows exactly what I want.”

“Perfect.”

Charity was a good sister-in-law and wouldn’t steer them wrong. “You’re really determined to put up a Christmas tree today?”

“Yes. I want to have it up early this year, so it’s already done for Thanksgiving, and so I can enjoy watching Rose Marie and Grant decorate it. Once I have my hands full with the baby, I’ll be more likely to miss things like that. I wanted to take pictures of the three of you helping them put the ornaments on.”

“Well, all right, then. Adam is supposed to come with me to the tree farm to pick out a good one.”

“A nice, tall one, please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured and then kissed her throat again. “Whatever you want.”

Chapter Two

“Rose Marie, hold the door for your daddy,”

Grace said as she caught Grant by the collar of his barn coat before he got trampled by Angel, Ash and Joaquin as they moved the sleeper loveseat to the other side of the living room. The thing weighed a ton, and just because the little squirt could move like a basset hound on steroids, quick and low to the ground, didn’t mean he wouldn’t get squished if he tripped them.

“Thanks, sugar,” Adam said as he, Ethan, and Jack wisely stamped their boots on the back porch mat before inching the huge and fragrant tree through the doors. No need to track dry leaves and dirt on her just cleaned floors.

“Watch the door frame. I don’t want to have to repaint,” she said, reaching out but then standing back as Jack caught her eye and nodded at her. They wouldn’t let the door frames get dinged. His patience with her neat freak tendencies, made worse by advanced pregnancy induced nesting instinct, warmed her heart.

“Okay, Gracie,” Ethan said, bringing up the rear, carrying the stump of the tree in gloved hands. The scent of fresh cut fir filled the crisp air drafting in through the door all around them. Her heightened sense of smell also picked up notes of clean, hard-working men,

and her inner sexpot purred contentedly.

Jack cleared his throat, gaining her attention, and she giggled when she caught him staring at her, recent carnal knowledge in his eyes. He probably knew exactly what she was thinking. “Darlin’, it’s getting heavy.”

“Oh! Sorry! Pregnancy brain! Over there.” She pointed across the room. “Try it over there first.”

Joaquin snorted softly at her word choice as he and the other two helpers stood by. They’d probably had to go through the same ritual with their women at home. Positioning the tree just right was important. It had to be visible through the back windows, not too close to the fireplace or the stairs, out of the flow of traffic, and far enough from the wall she could decorate the backside and be able to reach the switch for the tree lights, as well. Location, location, location!

“How’s that?” Adam said as he held it steady for her.

“Move it a foot to the left. It’ll snag everyone’s pant legs where it is right now.”

They moved it without a single grumble.

“How’s that?” Adam asked, switching hands on the tree and catching Grant as he ran forward and grabbed him about his long thigh.

She beckoned them to bring it forward. “I need to get the bumpers out for the bricks on the hearth. The last thing we want is Grant busting his head open if he trips.”

Grant frowned at her. “I not no baby, no more, mama.”

“You mean, ‘I’m not a baby anymore, mama.’ And it’s not up to you young man.”

“I ain’t a baby! I ain’t!”

Ethan growled softly and tapped his son

on the back of his head. “Don’t sass your mama, son.” To Grace, he said, “We gave the bumpers to Presley, Jared, and Kendry.”

“Oh. Oh, well, just be super careful, Grant. Bring it forward and away from the fireplace just to be on the safe side.”

“How’s that?” Adam asked with a soft sigh.

She backed up and took in the room as a whole. “You know what? I think I’d like it better over there next to the staircase.”

Jack nodded once, and they lifted the tree to heft it across the living room while Angel, Joaquin and Ash hurriedly moved the loveseat out of the way again.

“No, wait. I’m sorry. If it’s over there it won’t be as visible from the backyard.”

“Why does it—never mind,”

Ethan said and then grunted as he repositioned the stump in his gloved hands and nodded at Adam to proceed.

“Which way, baby?” Adam said, not budging even though Jack and Ethan had started to back to the original spot.

She pointed to the original spot with an apologetic smile. “Back where you had it. Okay, now turn it. Turn it. Just a little more—stop. She backed up and looked at the room as a whole. “Right where you have it is perfect. Don’t move it or turn it. Angel can you help him with the base?”

“Sure thing, Grace. You know the water is going to have to be filled every day, otherwise it’ll dry out before—

“Oh, I’ll keep up with filling it,” she said, smiling at the beautiful symmetry of the tree they’d chosen. It had to be nine feet tall.

“Uh, no, I’ll be filling it,”

Jack said, watching the bulge of her abdomen as it lurched.

Grace sighed at the corresponding pressure to her bladder and said, “I’ll be right back.”

She bit her lip, and paused, hand on the couch to steady her, as Calliope Elizabeth squirmed and did ‘the thing.’ Unable to speak, she breathed carefully as Callie stretched, pushing a tiny foot against her much abused lower ribs.

“She’s doing ‘the thing’?” Jack asked, coming near.

Grace gave a thumbs up, back still turned. Give the man a prize!

Peeing could wait as Callie ground her hard little Warner head against Grace’s tender nether parts.

“Grace, you okay?”

Adam said, sounding concerned when she didn’t speak.

Just as quickly as Callie started her yoga routine, she relented, curling back into a tiny tight ball, giving her mama enough room to draw a breath.

She turned and smiled. This had only happened umpteen times in the last few days. “No biggie. Callie’s just squirming around a lot. Must be that orange juice I drank. I’ll be right back.”

The trip the bathroom was all good, if one counted having to balance carefully to sit down on the toilet because her abdomen made bending a bit dicey. Getting up was actually easier. Then she looked down. “Well, fuck a duck. Nope. Not right when I’m getting my tree decorated. I’ll call Emma later.”

****

Jack watched Grace

when she returned from using the bathroom. He studied her expression, looking for signs of discomfort or worry. She was as serene as she could be, and then she smiled at him. “Did we get the tree in the base?”

“Yeah, Ethan’s filling a bucket right now. Is this how you wanted it?”

No other woman had ever made a pregnant waddle look sexier, he thought as she moved to the center of the room, gazed at the tree, moved to the back windows, gazed at the tree some more, and then waddled back to the stairs, eyeballed that tree once more, and then gave them the thumbs up.

Relief filled him, and he turned to Rose Marie. “Sugar, can you close the back doors? We don’t want Mama getting chilled, do we?”

Horror dawned on Rose Marie’s face. “Oh, no. I wasn’t thinking.” She ran back to the doors but Grace stopped her.

“No, sweetie, leave them open for me. The crisp breeze is nice.” Grace tilted her head and looked at the tree and he dutifully turned it one millimeter to the right when she asked him to.

Ethan came in from the kitchen carrying a mop bucket and said, “Who left the door open? Gracie’s going to get chill—” He turned to look at her and paused mid-step. “Gracie? You okay?”

“I’m fine,”

she assured all of them, her hand smoothed over her burgeoning middle as their daughter squirmed again, and what Jack thought had to be her little butt shifted visibly from Grace’s left side to her right side.

Angel chuckled and said, “There is another reason why the women have the babies, because we weak-spirited men would be wetting our pants if we had to experience that. The women are the stronger sex, no doubt.”

Joaquin nodded silently and fist bumped his brother.

“Is it time, Mama?” Rose Marie said as she and Grant bounced up and down beside the stacked boxes containing ornaments.

“Yes, it’s time. Once box at a time, and let your daddies help you with the box marked ‘fragile’. I’m going to get my phone so I can take pictures.”

Ethan watched her as she waddled into her office, and then looked at Jack and Adam, suspicion in his eyes. Angel and the others said their goodbyes and ventured out the back doors.

They watched her like a hawk,

while helping the kids open the boxes of ornaments. He set the box of fragile ones aside because he knew they were extra special to Grace, and he didn’t want to be responsible for any of them getting broken on his watch, especially the spun glass ones. She’d loved those when they’d given them to her their first Christmas together.

With the back door open, the sounds of the working ranch filtered into the house, and Rose Marie giggled when they heard one of the dogs barking. Barney looked a bit like a bloodhound but Jack swore up and down there was a little bit of mastiff in him. And he had a bark that pierced the thickest walls, and eardrums.

“Barney must be chasing a rabbit again,” Rose Marie chirped as she showed him the shiny red ball ornament. “Let’s hang all red ornaments on the tree, Daddy.”

“Nooo,” Grant groused in his grump-old-man voice. “Red and green, cuz it’s Christmas.”

“You mean, “Red and Green, because it’s Christmas,’” Grace said, shooting video of the kids and the three of them. “I wonder what Barney is after,” she said, keeping the phone trained on them while looking out the back doors. “He’s chasing a cat. Is that Jake? I haven’t seen him in ages.” She turned to checked her phone screen’s position and then looked back out the doors. Barney and Jake had a love-hate relationship.

“Rowr-rowr-rowr-rowr! Barowwwwrrr-rowr-rowr!”

The sound came closer and closer, Jack looked over to see what the ruckus was, and suddenly Grace shouted, “Oh, no you don’t! Not my clean floors!”

In her advanced state of pregnancy she couldn’t move fast enough to reach the doors to shut them, and Jack wouldn’t risk knocking her over to get to them. He wouldn’t have been in time anyway.

Jake the barn cat was a huge, orange, fuzzy streak as he zipped through the back door with Barney hot on his tail, jowls flapping, drool flying everywhere as he dogged the cat right to the Christmas tree. Like a feline missile, Jake got vertical, sloshing the water in the tree base everywhere, before rocketing straight to the top of the pristine, perfectly positioned fir tree.

Rose Marie and Grant stood stock still, jaws hanging open. Then Jake snarled at Barney, who was barking so loudly it shook the rafters and vibrated in the center of Jack’s sternum.

With every hair on end

until he looked twice his normal above-average size, Jake fixed Barney with a green-eyed glower and yowled and hissed like a cobra.

The tree tilted slightly out of kilter because Ethan hadn’t had a chance to fix it more steadily into the base yet. Jake’s weight at the top of the tree made it shake as he tried to maintain his balance.

“Barowwwwrrr-rowr-rowr! Baroooooooooo!” Barney howled, having successfully treed his quarry.

Not relinquishing victory that easily, Jake hissed, spat and growled, struggling to maintain his high perch, unsuccessfully as it turned out, since the tree finally toppled to the floor.

Jake leaped at the dog, the dog shrieked in fear, and the cat chased the squealing dog around the living room twice, unseating Grace’s bric-a-brac and books from their shelves before racing at top speed right back out the back door.

All eyes turned to Grace.

She was still holding the camera, and had caught at least part of the event on record. As if for added affect, the base containing the water for the tree, which had managed to stay on its edge that whole time, finally toppled over, spilling water all over the floor.

Grace blinked a couple of times, and then looked around the room at all their shocked faces.

“Heh-heh,” she snickered as she pointed at him, Ethan, and Adam, and the kids. They were all watching her as if she was a ticking time bomb. “Heh-Heh-heh,” she continued. “You should see your faces.”

She looked back at the tree, and then burst into great, belly-rolling laughter. Pointing at the door, she said, “The cat ran in the…and the dog…then Jake went ‘reeeewr! So Barney howled…and kaboom!” She mimicked the tree falling with a sweep of her arm, starting to sound a little hysterical. Her laughter was infectious and soon they were all laughing.

By the time she finished laughing

and let out a big sigh, they had the tree back in an upright position, and were holding it firmly as Ethan bolted the base to the stump. That done, he picked up the bucket and headed back to the kitchen.

It was Jack that noticed something was up when he glanced over at Grace. She had a towel and was trying to soak up the water on the floor, and he said, “Darlin’, don’t worry about that. We can mop up the floor after we’ve got the tree secured. Don’t worry, we’ll have it all picked up in…” He noticed she was mopping up a puddle that was nowhere near the one that surrounded the tree.

He caught her eye and she shrugged and grinned at him. “Guess we got that show on the road after all, baby.” She stood upright and then gasped as she braced one hand on the couch and held her abdomen with the other. “Well, that was fast.”

The baby is coming?

It was time for his baby girl to be born? Just like that? So suddenly?

Ethan grabbed Jack and shook him out of his idiotic stupor. “We’ve got this. Her labors go fast. Take her to the hospital. I’ll call Emma—”

“She’s already on alert. I called her from my office. I lost the mucous plug last time I peed. She said to get my ass to the hospital at the first contraction.”

Ethan sighed, which sounded remarkably like a growl.

“What? I wanted to finish the tree first.”

“Woman,” Adam murmured.

“The baby and I fine. I’ll go now, since…kasploosh!” she mimicked a puddle splashing out around her and then winced at another contraction.

“I’m calling the hospital to let them know you’re on the way,” Adam said.

Ethan gave Jack a gentle push toward the door. “Take her now. We’ll get this tidied up. I’ll call Charity to come stay with the kids and we’ll bring Grace’s bag to her just as soon as Charity gets here.”

Damn it, it isn’t like I’ve never done this before. Why did he feel like he was having an out of body experience?

What finally galvanized him into action was the gentle grip of Grace’s hand on his forearm. “I’m ready, Jack.”

He turned to her. “Can you make it to my truck?” Thank goodness it was parked right out front. “I can carry you.”

Grace smiled and took his hand. “I think I can make it. Let’s go do this.”

“Mama?” Rose Marie said as she went to her mother and gentle patted her swollen abdomen. “I can’t wait to see my sissy.”

“Me, too, Mama!” Grant chirped, reaching out to be picked up, but Adam caught him up in his arms so Grace didn’t have to form a refusal. “I wanna see Sissy! Can I come, too?”

“You can come when she gets here, okay?” She took a breath and squeezed his hand hard. “We need to go.”

Jack guided her out to the truck and helped her into the cab. She buckled herself in while he ran around to the driver’s side.

On the wild tear down the driveway,

Grace giggled and pointed at one of the pastures, where Barney had Jake treed in an old oak, baying and jumping to get at him.

She took out her phone and began tapping on the screen.

“What are you doing?” he asked, keeping both eyes on the road as they turned onto the state highway.

“Texting Charity. I want her to take pictures of the kids putting the decorations on the tree. They’ll have a little sister the next time I see them. I wanted them to have that memory of when it was just the two of them in pictures.” She sniffled.

His sentimental sweetheart.

“Darlin, this time next year they’ll still be Mutt and Jeff, arguing over whether he should still be the roping dummy or not. It’s gonna be great. You doing okay?” he asked as she started blowing out in slow breaths.

She nodded, and when she could speak, she said, “Step on it, handsome, your little girl is in a hurry to meet you.”

Only the fact that he was behind the wheel, and the man in charge of getting her to the hospital in time, kept him from totally losing it at her words.

This was his baby girl and the woman he loved more than breath.

Super-focused on getting them to the hospital safely, he said, “Well, I can’t wait to meet her, too. With you for her mama, she’s one lucky little girl.”

Grace tapped her phone and put it to her ear and said, “Hey, it’s me. Yes, they’re not even—” she paused what she was saying to blow out a long breath, over and over. “Yeah, that’s what I was trying to tell you. I’m blowing through them. I feel it. Be ready when we get there. Awesome. Bye.”

At the emergency entrance to the hospital, Jack spotted Eli Wolf waiting with Emma. Jack screeched to a halt and Eli opened the door and spoke calmly to Grace as he unbuckled her seatbelt and lifted her carefully from her seat. He glanced at Jack and grinned. “Hey, Jack. We got her safe. Park and come inside. Tracey will suit you up and show you where to go.”

Grace looked back at him and beamed as Eli placed her with utmost care on the gurney and they began rolling toward the automatic doors. Grace blew Jack a kiss and in between blowing breaths, she called out, “Hurry.”

Chapter Three

Jack couldn’t see Nurse Tracey’s mouth because she wore a mask, but her eyes were smiling as she held out a pair of surgical scissors to him. He fumbled them in his gloved hands and chuckled. “My hands are shaking so much I can hardly get my big ol’ fingers in the grips.”

Adam stood behind him at his left shoulder, sniffling. A little sob snuck out of the big guy as Emma cleared the mucous and fluids from Calliope Elizabeth Warner’s mouth and nose and then lifted her so they could see her in her bright pink, chubby-cheeked glory, howling to beat the band.

“Meet your daughter, guys.

Jack? Care to do the honors?”

“Huh?” he asked dumbly as he gazed at Calliope’s cherubic face.

Grace chuckled softly and reached out. “Can I have her?”

Ethan gripped Jack’s shoulder and said, “Time to cut the cord.”

He looked down at the scissors in his hand and then understanding dawned. “Oh. Me. Okay. You know, I remember catching Rose Marie when she was born, but for some reason my legs hardly work.”

“It’s okay. Take your time, Jack. Mama and baby are just fine,” Emma murmured as she rose from the stool at the end of the birthing bed and gently placed Calliope on her mother’s bare chest. The infant squinted and squawked as she was rubbed gently with a cloth.

“What a pretty girl,”

Ethan said as he came around on Grace’s other side and stroked the babies tiny ear. “Look at all that dark hair, will you?”

Adam squatted down and Tracey shook her head at him and pushed another stool in his direction. He’d never live down nearly fainting at Grant’s birth. He chuckled and took it as he rolled to the head of the bed opposite from Ethan and caressed Grace’s cheek. “Thank you, baby. You’re amazing. She’s beautiful.”

Grace kissed him and beamed. “She is pretty isn’t she?”

“Calliope is a mouthful for a tiny little baby,” Tracey said. “Is she going to have a nickname?”

“What do you think we ought to call her, Jack?” Grace asked as she stroked the baby’s little pink cheek.

Emma touched the top of his hand to galvanize him into action, as she held the clamped cord and showed him where to cut.

His hands still trembled

and Emma said, “Sometimes if I’m shaky it helps to take a slow breath and cut as you let it out. You’re golden, Jack. This is a huge moment, no matter how many times you have a baby.”

He nodded, unable to speak as he severed the cord and Emma gave him a thumbs up and took the scissors. Wow. She’s really here.

Grace gazed at him as he came close and laid his hand on Calliope’s back. “What should we call your daughter?”

“Callie Beth,” he whispered, the syllables crackling as his throat constricted. Her tiny little body was so warm, so vital. And then she squawked again as she started rooting in earnest.

“That’s a determined little girl, guys,” Emma said with a chuckle as she went about her work.

Tracey slid a little stocking cap on Callie’s head and said, “She looks like a little Callie Beth, doesn’t she? I love romantic names. She’s going to be a heart-breaker, I bet. I can snap some pictures for you real quick while Emma finishes up, before I take Callie to be weighed. You can come with me for that, Jack, if you want?”

He wasn’t sure if he could make his legs move

but he nodded and handed her his cellphone with the camera turned on. The guys got their phones out as well.

Exhausted from birth, Callie Beth fell asleep before finding success with the whole nursing thing, and that was okay. It was a big day. Tracey took the opportunity to wrap her in a receiving blanket and then popped her right into Jack’s arms, like he knew what he was doing.

Wait. I do know what I’m doin’. This isn’t my first rodeo. Get with the program, Jack!

Callie Beth mesmerized him. Her tiny hands were a carbon copy of Grace’s in miniature. She opened her eyes briefly and gazed up at him, so serious and still, inspecting her daddy for the first time.

Grace chuckled as he moved close to the head of the bed, the baby held securely in his arms. He leaned down to kiss Grace, and tears he didn’t know he was shedding dripped onto her hospital gown.

She was sniffling, too, as she reached up and stroked the moisture from his cheeks. Her lips were so warm under his and he lingered there before resting his forehead against hers.

“You done good, mama.”

“We all did. Congratulations, daddy. Daddies. I love you.”

They each responded in kind and even Tracey was sniffling as she moved around quietly snapping pictures. At times, Ethan and Adam caught his gaze and their happiness practically radiated from them.

All three of their kids belonged to all of them, by choice, but because of family resemblances, and timing, Grace was comfortably certain that Rose Marie was Adam’s daughter. She had the Davis green eyes and the family nose.

Ethan was most certainly Grant’s father, because of busy schedules and the fact that Grace had been charting her fertility. Grant also showed an amazing sense of intuition, like his father, when he wasn’t being a toot.

And this one…this little dark headed-angel.

Grace and the guys had done everything they could to make certain it was Jack who had fathered this baby, even giving their blessing for a Hawaiian getaway for just the two of them at a time when Grace was likely to be fertile. Callie Beth’s hair was the same color as his.

He lifted Grace’s hand into his and stroked her palm with his thumb. “Grace, you’re our every dream come to life. Thank you so much for this blessing.”

Chapter Four

The Christmas party at the Divine Creek Ranch

was a little more subdued that year, but not by much. Because of scheduling they were having it on Christmas day instead of Christmas Eve.

Jessica Bright’s wedding and binding ceremony with Tank Drummond and Troy Burns had happened the day before and everyone had stayed for the reception. Some faces were missing, because they had to travel to see their families, but Jack thought it was still a great turnout.

It was his protective side that hoped it didn’t go too late. Rose Marie and Grant were their usual energetic selves, and he’d been watching Grace for signs of fatigue. She’d given in to their badgering to rest because she hadn’t bounced back quite as quickly from the birth. She pushed herself so hard sometimes, thinking she needed to handle things for everybody else.

After the overwhelming success, and accompanying behind-the-scenes stressful drama, of the charity fundraiser, she’d finally given in and taken it easy, allowing them to do for her for a change.

With any other woman that might’ve meant being available at her beck and call. With Grace, it meant movie nights, long talks in bed, back rubs and brainstorming sessions for future stories she’d write in the coming years. Who knew he, Ethan, and Adam had such romantic creative sides? Jack honestly enjoyed being of help to her in a way he never had before.

He handed her to tall glass of ice water she’d asked him for and she thanked him with a kiss. Little Callie Beth was watching the goings on of the gathering from the security of the sling Grace was wearing, a gift from Presley Ann McCulloch, who had also given birth to a baby girl a month or so before Callie Beth had come into the world.

Callie Beth gazed out at the group

from the comfy security of her mother’s warmth, before burrowing close to her mama again. Warmth filled his chest and when he looked up it was to find Ethan and Adam watching her as well, twin sappy grins on their faces, probably matching the one on his.

Ethan brought him a beer and the three of them clinked bottles and Ethan said, “To Grace.”

“To Grace.”

“To Grace.”

Ash Peterson and his wife Juliana came in through the back door, looking a little flushed, and judging by the twinkle in Ash’s eyes, and the blush in Juliana’s cheeks, they were feeling a little more than just the crisp chill from the outdoors. Good thing for them, they lived nearby.

“What is all that racket?”

Juliana asked as she turned and peeked out the opened doors.

A commotion in the backyard got everyone’s attention. Ace and Kemp were on it immediately, coming from the kitchen where they’d been conversing with Duke and Gage, Dr. Emma’s husbands, reaching in to their sports coats by reflex, but showing no other sign they were armed.

After the security breach on the ranch the night of the charity dinner and double bachelor auction, they were all much more vigilant about disturbances, especially with little ones running around everywhere.

“Just the dog barkin’ somewhere nearby,” Ash said, nodding and smiling at Ethan when he lifted a beer bottle in inquiry. “I’d love one, thanks. Need to wet my whistle.”

Juliana snorted and nudged him with her elbow. “It’s important to stay hydrated, right?”

“You hush, woman,” he said, but his affectionate, gentle squeeze led Jack to believe he enjoyed it when she got feisty. Their relationship had been fireworks from the get go, as Jack recalled and maintaining that spark was good for a marriage.

They were just closing the French doors when Erin, Ethan’s baby sister snuck in, looking a little disheveled.

“Hey, Erin. I was wondering if you were going to make it or not,” Ethan said as he handed Ash his beer, and then squinted at her. “What’ve you been up to?”

“Nothin’. Mind your own beeswax, dude. I need a drink.”

“A good stiff one? Here,”

Charity quipped as she sauntered over and held out a shot of what looked like tequila. “Careful, there’s a song that talks about tequila making a girls clothes fall off.”

Erin growled at Charity but took the shot with a nod of thanks anyway. Ethan’s sister was a spirited woman, and it wasn’t his place to say so, but Ethan’s protectiveness was just making her even more determined to do as she pleased. She’d recently decided to move out of the ranch house, even though they had plenty of room. Jack could understand her wanting her independence.

Charity looked over at Teresa, who was standing nearby with Angel and Joaquin bracketing her like bookends. “Hey Teresa, where’s Luka and Matthias? I heard they were going to be here tonight?”

“They should be here already,” Teresa said, casting her husbands a questioning glance. Their brothers were always game for a party but didn’t always show up when they said they would. “I’m not sure where they are.”

Erin groused under her breath and headed for the kitchen as the sound of boot steps stamping on the porch signaled another arrival.

The brothers in question grinned and waved in greeting as they came in through the back door and slipped their coats off and put them on the hall tree with their hats. “Hey,” Luka called, shaking hands with Duke Rivers who had come into the living room. “How is everyone?”

“Barrrrrooowrrrr! Rowr-rowr-rowr-rowr!

Grace gasped and blinked as everyone turned at the commotion on the back porch. She opened her mouth to speak and turned imploring eyes to him. “Close the doors before they—”

A furry snarling orange rocket ran between Luka’s booted feet and shot into the house.

“Jake, out!” Grace called as he shot past her. “Someone catch him. Oh, not again!”

“What the—” Luka shouted as all one hundred and twenty pounds of Barney barreled into him from behind, knocking his legs out from under him, missing landing on the tile floor only because Matthias caught him from behind.

“Barrrrrooowrrrr! Rowr-rowr-rowr-rowr!

Reeeeewr! Hisss!

The cat dog combo looped the living room twice as the party-goers tried to catch them, the kids laughing and adults shooing them toward the door before any real damage could be done.

The cat went airborne over the couch,

while Grace watched in consternation. Like a safety-seeking missile, the feline made a beeline for the only vertical perch in reach. Straight up the fully decked out Christmas tree. The ornaments trembled and shook on the tree as he scaled the heights to the angel perched on the top, knocking it askew.

Ethan made a made a mad grab for Barney and got dragged across the living room for the effort, before the coffee table stopped his progress and he let go or risked hitting Grace with the furniture.

Jack felt like he was moving in slow motion. The spun glass ornaments swung wildly as the tree teetered with Jake’s attempts to gain some balance. Each step around the room took forever. Barney was headed straight for the tree. It was one thing to knock over the tree when it was bare. It was another mess of shit to do it when it was full of Grace’s precious glass ornaments.
Barney attacked the base of the tree, knocking it off kilter, and Jake leaped from the top, rebounded off Jack’s shoulder and flitted out the still open door. The tree was a lost cause as Barney attacked the red furry tree skirt, evidently thinking he’d caught his prey. But Jack could still save the decorations.

Nope. The tree fell on him.

And for his efforts, he got a face full of Barney’s dirty paws and slobber as he climbed over him and shot out the French doors. When he regained his breath, he looked up at the crowd of faces ringing him.

Grace rose from the couch and told someone that she needed a towel and for the men to lift the tree off of him carefully. A sparkle caught his eye and he lifted the spun glass ballerina from his chest and showed it to Grace.

“Well, darlin’, at least I saved one of your ornaments.”

Holding one hand to Callie Beth’s head to keep her settled in her sling, she got down on her knees and took the ornament from him, as well as another he spotted in the branches squished against his chest.

“Are you hurt?”

“Nope. I wanted to save your glass ornaments from being broken.”

“Jack, I was teasing when I said I wanted a woobie under my Christmas tree.”

Grace grimaced. “You could’ve been impaled on broken glass,” she said as they lifted the tree off him and the round ball ornaments made tinkling sounds as they bounced and rolled across the floor. The kids giggled as they chased after them.
Jack grinned, and then picked a dry tree bristle from his shirt front when it poked him. He nodded his thanks when the guys helped him up. In turn, he helped her to rise, and showed her that he was fine, except that the water from the tree base had soaked the back of his jeans.

“It’s all good. Lookie there, the other two of your special ornaments are still hanging on the branches, undamaged.” He caught Ethan’s attention and said, “Let’s make sure those doors are shut good this time.”

The tree was restored to something resembling its former dignity, with only a few ornaments damaged beyond repair. Barney and Jake streaked past the back door, playing their endless game of cat and dog.

The lights from the tree sparkled and reflected on the windows and Jack thought of Grace’s care in making sure the tree was positioned so the lights shined out.

Standing talking with her friends and their family and acquaintances, she caught his glance and smiled at him as she caressed his daughter’s dark head.

The house shone with a light that had nothing to do with artificial tree bulbs. The warmth he felt was the light that was reflected in the eyes of the woman he loved with all his heart.

The End

©Heather Rainier 2017 All rights reserved

This short story describes events that took place during the course of Operation Ginger Avenger. For the full story, visit the book page and you’ll find info and links to various retailers. Click here to purchase at Siren BookStrand Right now

If you enjoyed this Christmas-themed short story, check out The Woobie Spirit of Christmas Past 

and It’s a Very Woobie Christmas in Divine, Texas

News From the Divine Creek Ranch…

Operation Ginger Avenger releasing December 22nd

The next book in the Divine Creek Ranch Collection has had a reserved spot in Siren’s calendar for a while now. I don’t generally like writing with a deadline but sometimes I need a push, so I reserved the spot and set myself a deadline to submit this story in time for it to be published by Christmas. That’s four books released in a calendar year, which I haven’t done in a while. Even more extraordinary for me, it was four books in one quarter. That’s stressful because I need to be online promoting at a time when I also want to spend time with family and friends celebrating and doing all the activities leading up to Thanksgiving and Christmas. But the majority of the work: writing, revising, editing, writing blurbs, creating graphics, shopping for stock photos, and all the other gazillion tasks were done up front, to make the fall and holiday season spent promoting go more smoothly.

I typed “The End” on Operation Ginger Avenger (Divine Creek Ranch 24) just last night. I fell into bed early last night, and woke up ready to work this morning.

Today, the work to revise and promote the story begins. I’ve built and published a page here on my website for Operation Ginger Avenger, but at this point, it’s really just the bare bones, since the blurbs are my next order of business. I hate writing blurbs, but right after I’ve finished the book is the best time for me to write them. If you check back in coming days and weeks, I’ll be adding more info to that page as I have it ready.

Divine Creek Ranch Boxed Sets

While checking Siren’s calendar, I also discovered that the 4th volume in the Divine Creek Ranch Boxed sets is scheduled for release on November 21st. I’ll add the pre-order/buy link when I have it. This set will include:
Their Divine Doctor (Book 9)
Divine Phoenix (Book 10)
Sparks Fly! A Divine Creek Ranch July 4th Family Reunion (Book 11)

Tangere Tales Trilogy Progress

All of the rounds of edits for Midnight of the Fae (Tangere Tales 2) are completed and returned to Siren-BookStrand, and it will be releasing on November 10th. It has a preorder link available now and I hope you’ll order your copy today.

Author “Appearances”

I’ll be attending a Facebook event this Saturday, at 1:00pm (Central) at the next Author Takeover for Romance Readers Recommend. These events are a great way to interact with your favorite authors as well as authors you may not have met yet. I’ll be answering questions about Divine, Texas and the Tangere Tales Trilogy, and also doing a prize drawing for all attendees. If you’re Interested, click over to see the awesome lineup of authors and let the ladies know you’ll be attending. No obligation, just come and have fun.

Slices of Life from the Rainier Household

I titled this post “News From the Ranch…” and I meant that both figuratively and literally. We’ve gotten pretty much settled in our new home. For those of you who may have missed it, we sold our place and downsized just a bit. We had a dream to own acreage in the area Mr R grew up in, but we’ve found that as we mature, so have our dreams. He’s been self-employed all of his life, in a line of work that’s extremely physical and in Texas heat, also very taxing. So we downsized and we’re leasing until we find the place that’s the right size for us. The rambling, old ranch house we’re leasing is on a large cattle ranch, and I enjoy that aspect of our current home way more than I thought I would.

Fall wildflowers in South Texas
The view from our new home. Wildflowers in the fall…

Our house is fully fenced so the dogs are contained and don’t bother the cattle, beyond barking at them occasionally. Eli has settled in and resigned himself that he can’t just go “walkabout” when he wants to. He’s getting a little old for that anyway.

The calves and yearlings are a hoot to watch, and there is this old bull…

Let me tell you…

One day I noticed Eli barking, and it wasn’t his irritating “I’m barking cuz I’m bored” bark. This was “Stranger-Danger! WTF!” Mildly curious, because our house is located within the gated ranch and people can’t just walk right on up, I wander up to the kitchen to see what’s going on. Eli is strutting up and down along the fence, all stiff legged and jaunty, like “I’m the man and this here is my property. Be gone, foul interloper.” The herd roams loose all over the property, and it’s not unusual at all to look out the bedroom window and see one grazing not ten feet away. So I see a cow close by the fence, roll my eyes, and begin to walk away, and then Eli growls and marks his territory.

It’s a scary sound.

I take a closer look and there’s a cow on the other side of the fence. Our vehicles are parked outside the fence under or near the carport. Hasn’t been a problem so far. This cow is grazing between the fence and my Tundra. Also no biggie. I’ve seen them do it before. They’re docile and even the dogs barking doesn’t faze them all that much. Closer inspection reveals its the bull. The Bull. I’ve affectionately named him Horny Toad. That should tell you all.

I’m curious what’s going to happen next. He’s a thick, beefy sort, as you’d expect. He’s staring at Eli while he’s grazing and then he gives Eli the same stiff-legged and jaunty “I’m the man, and this here is MY property. You are a rodent I want to stomp.”

The bull turns to my truck, and not surprisingly licks the bumper and trailer hitch. *shudders*

Okay, you pervert, lick my bumper, just have at it.

As I watch, the truck starts rocking up and down ever so slightly. (Not to worry, y’all. It’s an older model 4-door Tundra we bought as a ranch truck, and to fit all four of us as the kid’s legs got longer, and for the kids to learn to drive in. It’s had a full life.) Anyway, the bull starts rubbing against the truck and it really starts rocking.

Son of a bitch!”

I spill my coffee, run outside in my nightgown and robe, “Get on outta here, you horny mother–

Thank goodness the landlord was nowhere in sight, because I scared the dogs for sure. The bull was less than impressed but he left off from humping my truck, for softer and perhaps more receptive hind quarters elsewhere on the acreage.

If I ever go outside and find my tail pipe broken off, y’all will be the first to know.

This place is beautiful. The property is thick with mature oak trees and this fall the fields were thick with yellow wildflowers. I don’t own this bit of heaven but I sure am enjoying it until we find our own.

Vain Heifer!

One day, I was working under the covered picnic area in the backyard. It’s fenced off from the house so I can work in peace without the dogs cold nosing my elbows every few minutes. (Surely I’m not the only one who is bugged by that sensation). The cows were wandering all around the house, grazing, and then I noticed one of the cows had gone over by my Camaro, which was parked under the carport.

Being protective of my car, I sneak over to investigate. The heifer was looking at her reflection on the side of the car. I caught her with my camera, peeking over the hood. Yes, I’m a tad nervous about the car, but I like our landlords, and the property. They’ve assured us any damages would be taken care of. Of all the things I have to worry about lately, this rates pretty low.

While I’m writing this to you, the bull is outside my window, singing his snort-y song of unrequited lust for my Toyota Tundra. The saga continues…

I hope you all are having a fine start to your fall and upcoming holiday season. There will be more updates in weeks to come, and probably more news from the ranch.

Seize the day, baby!

~H

A Guest Chat with Bestiale and Charmeur of Beasts in Winter

Let me tell you something about fae enchantresses

They often have evil senses of humor. Earlier today, I was scheduled to meet one of my favorite bloggers to do an interview. I’d promised her I’d go along because the subjects of the interview might be a tad…prickly? Claws. Fangs. you get the picture.

I didn’t blame her for not wanting to go alone…

especially since the journey involved a dimension shifting portal. Rollercoasters aren’t my thing, and I wasn’t looking forward to that sensation so soon after the last time, but I showed up on time to make the trip, only…no portal. Only disembodied laughter told me I’d been had by Selena Eryaras, the fae enchantress / matchmaker herself

Eniko, being the champ she is, handled the interview with the beasts on her own and I want to share the results with you. And the best part is that there are no spoilers. If you’re even remotely curious what the beasts are like in their own wintry environment, follow the link below.

My Chat with Bestiale and Charmeur

Make sure to enter Eniko’s drawing on this blog post, and while you’re there subscribe to her book blog and check out her other interviews with me and my characters. Oh, and count on the fact that the fae has other tricks up her sleeve for the rest of the Tangere Tales Trilogy, which will be available in the coming weeks.

Seize the day, baby!

Love, Heather

PS…seriously, you’re going to enjoy this interview. Eniko has guts. 😀

I WRITE FAIRY TALES! There, I said it!

After so many years of writing a contemporary erotic romance series set in a small Texas Hill Country town, why did I decide to write fairy tales?

That question has a few answers, and that’s what I thought I’d write about today.

I suppose anything I write could qualify as a fairy tale happily ever after. The heroine winds up with her heroes (usually multiples) and they do live happily ever after. That’s my job and I love it.

Then I decided to dabble in a true fairy tale world.

A land where magic exists. Beasts, princes, kings, and fae are bad ass and sexy. Oh, and hello, dragons! Villains, adversaries, and evil queens who are “I will eat your soul” kind of ominous and scary (mostly). But through it all, love prevails.

Taking a detour through the land of Tangere was refreshing because there are so many options in a magical realm.

Anything can happen.

I needed that uncertainty and opportunity, I suppose. And in the end, with the finished product in hand, I hoped readers would approve.

A close associate asked me a good question this morning.

“Have you really billed this trilogy as fairy tales?”

The question gave me pause. At Siren-BookStrand it’s categorized as “Contemporary, Fairy Tales/Myths, Fantasy, Menage a trois, Paranormal” in alphabetical order. I’ve mainly promoted the series as fantasy. I mean, obviously, with a titles like Beasts In Winter, I knew readers would see what I was going for, but when asked about this trilogy for the last year or so, I would always hesitate before calling them fairy tales. Why on Earth would I do that?

Fairy tales are simple bedtime stories that have been told to children for hundreds of years, embellished in our “modern” times for a wider audience. Maybe it’s because the themes seem so simple on the surface–how could they be made any better? Is it because some people still see fairy tales as childish, and why would I reinterpret a childish thing? Maybe because there are so many retellings already?

I don’t talk about what I write much to people in my everyday real life, but that’s because of privacy. I realized even in my online activity, the fairy tale aspect of what I was writing was not the first thing that I mentioned. Why? My best guess is that as a grown woman, I worry what people will think about me dabbling in fairy tales. After all, the classic fairy tales, Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella, and Snow White, are first read to us when we’re little. Or we grew up watching the Disney interpretation of those fairy tales. And in the back of our minds, my mind, maybe that was always my ideal for a happily ever after. Now, here we are, grown women.

We KNOW that fairy tale happily-ever-afters are all too imperfect,

short-lived, or just plain non-existent. That doesn’t make us want them any less, but it did make me hesitant, I suppose, to talk about them.

I think part of me also kept this series close to my heart, giving as little information as I could without being downright reticent, because I feared that devoted readers of my contemporary series might not want to “jump” genres with me, although I know plenty of readers who do. Or maybe they would find that my interpretation of them would be repetitive of what other authors have tried to do.

We authors are a neurotic lot. Haven’t I ever mentioned that?

Anyway, I am over that reluctance. The truth is that my heart, sweat, and tears have gone into all three stories, even surprising myself with the elements that leaped from my imagination onto the page.  And I laughed and laughed while writing them. Maybe that’s why I loved them so much. But the love scenes are the heart and soul of the stories. I can make you laugh all day long, but if I haven’t made your heart swoop and pound at least a little, I haven’t done my job and merited my reader’s business.

These are not your mama’s fairy tales.

They certainly aren’t Hollywood’s politically correct fairy tales. And I hope you will discover between the pages that they are unlike any erotic retelling of a fairy tale that you have ever read before.

I’ve taken many of the familiar, well-loved landmarks from Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella, and Snow White, embellished them with vivid imagery, added new elements, introduced a new set of secondary characters, and heated them up to the top of the scale for erotic romance. Oh, and they’re all ménage happily-ever-afters, if you haven’t guessed by the covers.

And here I am, loudly and proudly proclaiming

I WRITE FAIRY TALES!

Information about each story is located on my website. Just click on the menu button and select Books in the Tangere Tales Trilogy, or click any of the links from the Home page to read the blurbs and excerpts. And read on for a fun look at Beasts in Winter, as well as snippets from Midnight of the Fae, and Dance of the Dragon Sorceress.

~~~

A rumbling sound nearby startled Angel,

and she opened her eyes, not remembering why they were closed. She couldn’t possibly have dozed off. Her awareness returned, along with a blast of freezing cold, and she gasped.

“Ho-Holy shit! Where am I?”

Meow,” the cat answered, its bright white fur blending in with the snow scene surrounding her. Brilliant sunlight lit the frozen landscape and another wave of chills hit her, reminding her she was clad in denim shorts, hiking boots, and a tank top—because it was summertime. As if to reinforce her confusion, snowflakes drifted around her and caught in her long auburn hair and sifted into her cleavage.

“We need to get out of here, wherever the hell here is. I know I promised to take you home, Miss Priss, but I’m freezing my ass off. You wanna go back home with me? It’s warmer there, and

I can hook you up with all the catnip your heart desires.”

The feline shimmied against her as if trying to keep her warm and then turned her shapely head and gazed off into the distance. Her purring grew loud enough to be audible over the gusting wind. A soft ringing sound drew Angel’s attention, and she noticed a bauble made of glass or crystal hung from the cat’s collar. Within the clear material was suspended a blue flower, like a violet. The cat looked into her eyes, as it began a pumping motion with its paws, “making biscuits,” as her grandmother would’ve said. The cat’s eyes were the same brilliant blue as the flower within the bauble.

The cat looked to the horizon again, and Angel understood why when she spotted the castle across a clearing, its roof peaks, chimneys, and architectural features piled with snow. Was she directing Angel there?

Wait, what? Directing me? I must be hallucinating.

Sunlight poured down on the palatial fortress, and the ice crystals covering the structure glittered, dazzling her for a moment. “Whoa. Sorry, pretty girl, but I need to go back. This…this is crazy.”

“Put down the animal.”

Chills rippled down her spine at the gritty, almost inhuman quality of the voice.

Don’t show fear. It’s not a bear or a monster. If they can speak, they can be reasoned with. Just don’t…show…fear.

“Are you deaf, or do you have a death wish? Put down the animal.” A hint of aggravation was plain in the accented syllables.

Angel turned and nearly lost her footing. Her knees wobbled, as well as her grip on the cat, who just kept purring and making biscuits. What stood before her was something out of her wildest, darkest dreams—no, not dreams. Nightmares.

“Holy…” Did one cuss in front of a monster? “Shit. What-what are you?”

Two massive beasts loomed before her.

Steam puffed from their mouths and their nostrils as they breathed the wintry air. Clothed in leather in an antiquated fashion, as if they were warriors of old, both also wore shaggy hooded cloaks that appeared to be made from the hides of bears.

She blinked up at them towering over her from several feet away and then looked at the blue-eyed cat, who seemed pleased to keep rubbing on her and purring, as though two hairy, threatening beasts weren’t standing ready to tear her limb from limb. Feeling as though she was standing at the widening void between reality and a really fucked-up fantasy, she realized she must be dreaming or losing it, and a hysterical giggle erupted from her throat.

“Did I trip and hit my head in the cave? Am I hallucinating? This can’t be real.”

Her moment of levity was cut short by the bulkier and scarier of the two, who growled again. “Put. Down. The. Animal.”

Totally real. Really real. Really really real. I’m gonna die.

Such a wave of terror coursed through her at the ferocious voice, she froze and slammed her eyes shut. The cat hissed and growled at the beast, and over the pounding of her heart in her ears and the chattering of her teeth, Angel thought she heard an amused snort.

“Fine,” the angry beast snarled, its voice as rough as a gravel truck driving on a bad road. “You’re not an animal. Woman, put down the feline and don’t move.”

Angel’s pulse roared in her ears, and her throat went dry as she darted her gaze around, looking at the snowy ground, anywhere but at the monsters. Looking for the cave. If she could reach it, it was her best chance for evasion. Her only chance. But the cave was nowhere in sight. Not hidden from view by the snowfall. There was no cave opening anywhere in sight, just a bare slope.

Normally the strategist among her friends, Angel could see only one option as she looked at the snow caking her boots and the castle beyond the clearing. The snow wasn’t terribly deep, and no way was she letting herself or the cat get eaten without at least trying to escape.

Woman, do as I say.

Put down the cat and do not think to run.” Another growl, angrier and more ferocious than the first, vibrated from his massive chest as she tucked the cat to her side and backed up a step. His eyes glowed silver as he advanced. The cat mewed plaintively to her, which she took for fear, and she exercised the only option her mind would consider.

Run! Now!

Beasts in Winter is available for pre-order now and releases Friday, October 20th.

~~~

And now, a snippet from my retelling of Cinderella, entitled Midnight of the Fae, coming Friday, November 1st…

“I thought you were a harmless little puppy, or I never would’ve slept with you, or undressed around you…told you all my secrets. Shit.”

“Or checked under my tail?” Leandre asked with a chuckle, feigning to defend himself as she glowered at him. “Sweet Caresse, every moment is a fond memory already. I never would’ve taken advantage of your vulnerability.”

“Oh, and licking my boobs isn’t taking just a little bit of advantage?”

~~~

And a little tidbit from my retelling of Snow White, entitled Dance of the Dragon Sorceress, coming December 1st…

The flickering firelight illuminated the resolute angle of Elaina’s jaw. “I don’t leave my friends, or the people I love, just because things get tough. If Angel and Caresse were here, they’d tell you the same thing. We stick together, or what good are we?”

“Elaina—” Rainger murmured, taking her other hand into his.

“No,” she replied, mirroring his gentle, cajoling tone.

Zayrgrud made a grating, rumbling sound deep in his chest and then let out a sigh—and a puff of black smoke.

A beaming smile transformed Elaina’s face, and she said, “Well, at least Zayrgrud the Terrifying can see reason.”

Basile smirked. “He just knows a stubborn woman when he sees one.”

“Pigheaded,” Bleu the Irascible muttered.

“Imprudent,” Jaune the Cautious agreed.

“Foolhardy,” Vert the Protective said.

“Tenacious!” Orange the Amiable crowed as he reached over and yanked at the rolls of cloth that still waggled from Bleu’s broken nose.

“Ow! What did you do that for?” Bleu howled as he put his hand to his nose, as if checking for blood.

“It was time, you ninny! You left them in just to gain Elaina’s sympathy.”

~~~

Okay, I’m done teasing…for now.

I just can’t wait to share with you what it looks like in my imagination when the fairy godmother isn’t a fairy godmother, and when the seven dwarves are actually seven brawling knights dedicated to saving the dragons of Tangere.

Seize the day, baby!

Love, Heather

Wonder Woman…with really REALLY Sore Feet.

A lot can change in a month.

In my case, a lot of progress has been made behind the scenes; not all of it is visible to my readers because I’ve become even more careful about sharing, unless, it’s on my terms.

The books, and all the work involved in bringing them to fruition, are coming along and looking beautiful. I’ve gotten new covers, new graphic artwork, both for the trilogy but also for the boxed sets coming out in conjunction with the fantasy trilogy.

A tough year…

The last twelve months have been varying degrees of heaven and hell but I honestly think it’s all worked together to help me create what could be my best work this year.

I made the mistake of posting a warm, relevant, and encouraging meme on Facebook last month. You’d think I’d know better after seven years, but no good deed goes unpunished by the perpetually offended. I stay away from politics and try to stick to encouraging readers when I’m not actively sharing about books coming out. I subscribe to the belief that entertainers, of any kind, owe any following and success they have to the people they entertain. Having amassed that following doesn’t give them to right to step on their fan’s toes by getting political. A true artist knows that the best way to express themselves is through their art and not through an unwilling audience. It destroys the escape and disillusions our audience about who we are.

Maybe I’m being hypercritical,

but I agree with the moviegoer who said (paraphrasing), “When you’re not entertaining me, I want you to go back in your box and shut up. I’m not interested in your political views.” Harsh? Maybe, but I agree. I’ve got a 50/50 chance of offending someone if I start sharing my political views. Having worked (literally) as hard as I can to create a world where readers can escape reality, why would I shoot myself in the foot just to vent a little steam? Professionals should know better.

Long story short, that meme I intended for comfort and encouragement got hijacked by people who, up until that moment, I’d truly respected, one of whom was a personal hero of mine. I was unfriended because I refused to sign on to an (at the time) politically correct ideology. I wound up taking down the graphic and walking away from the whole conversation, reminding myself I’m here to write love stories, not argue with trolls. And time showed that I was correct in that earlier choice.

On the home front…

While all this was going on, we were selling our home and packing up and moving. Sometimes dreams, even good ones, are temporary things. Mr. R and I are building a new dream after coming to the conclusion that we’d bitten off more than we could chew with 25 acres that needed constant care, repair, and maintenance.

Yes, I mourned leaving my house, my quiet privacy, my bees, my built-in book cases, my whole house wired for sound, and my enormous closet. And that huge shower with enough elbow room for five people, much less two.

We’re downsizing but Mr R knows better than to think that means tiny-sizing. He’s a generous man. We’ve moved into a leased home that has a similar amount of square footage. It’s an older, rambling ranch-style home located in the midst of a huge cattle ranch. The dogs love the yard, and I love the hundreds of acres of majestic oak trees. The interior is rustic and quaint, and I still have a separate office space, so I’m happy. I’m better than happy, actually. I’m relaxed. Relaxed means I’m open to possibilities, and renewed creativity.

I don’t want to even think about moving again right now, but Mr R is already sketching new house plans. It’s what he does, and one of the things I love about him. I hope y’all will stay along with me for the ride like you did with the last one.

One last note about the new place~

We have an unusual neighbor. A badger lives beneath a shed near one of the ranch barns, right near our house. I don’t want to meet him. At all. Oh, and there are calves! They’re so cute gamboling around their mamas between naps and grazing.

Somehow I managed to get books submitted, the house packed up and moved in August and then unpacked in September.

I’m fricking Wonder Woman…with really really sore feet. 😀

Besides writing this post, I spent today updating the website with book covers and cool graphics for the Tangere Tales Trilogy and the two new boxed sets (Volumes 2 and 3). I hope you’ll take a few minutes to look around and let me know what you think of the new appearance. Make sure to check out the trilogy book pages for extra goodies like this one..

Some dates for you to mark on your calendars before I sign off…

10/10 ~ release date Boxed Set Volume 2
10/20 ~ release date for Beasts In Winter, Tangere Tales 1
10/31 ~ release date Boxed Set Volume 3
11/10 ~ release date for Midnight of the Fae, Tangere Tales 2
12/1 ~ release date for Dance of the Dragon Sorceress, Tangere Tales 3

~Seize the day, baby!
Love, Heather

Coming Up For Air…

May 8, 2017

This is quick update shared from my Work in Progress page about what I’m working on. At the beginning of April I was working on an update to this page. I was in a hurry then, too, because we were in between severe thunderstorm warnings and tornado watches. I thought I’d posted the update before I shut things down, but I guess I wasn’t successful.

Anyway, things have progressed at a steady clip since then so I’m giving it another go with the update.

Personally, I’m doing fine. I’m still battling frequent tension headaches and migraines, with some sinus pressure thrown in just to keep things interesting. My thyroid medications have been adjusted so I’m doing well in that regard, too. Hypothyroid brain fog is not a symptom that should be disregarded. I tried to tough it out for years but I’m making my well being a priority now.

Feeling better means I feel like working again. My writing routine is back to “normal” and I look forward to continuing this journey as an author.

In Divine, Texas…

Operation Ginger Avenger is progressing. It looks like this book spans several seasons, which it should, since Jessica’s issues are not the kind of thing a heroine could overcome in the span of weeks or a month.

Jessica Bright was introduced in Divine Charity (Book 18 in the series) and she’s popped up in a few of the subsequent books, obviously reluctant to take many personal risks in relationships. And who could blame her? Her daughter Bella is a toddler/preschooler in the scope of this story, and full of spunk and giggles. The redheaded heroes, Tank and Troy, are helping Jessica stretch out of her comfort zone and reminding her that she’s more than just a mom, she’s also a woman with needs.

Here’s a brief taste from Operation Ginger Avenger

Tank turned to find Jessica standing in the doorway to the living room, watching them, wringing her hands together. Where Jessica and her nerves were concerned, to hesitate was to lose the moment.

“What were you talking about?” she asked.

Before Troy could say something about the weather, Tank blurted, “Keeping you warm when it’s cold.”

Her half smile disappeared and she wrapped her arms around herself. The way she turned to the doorframe and hunched her shoulders was the last straw for him. “Come here, Jessica.”

The Tangere Tales Trilogy

I know that title sounds odd coming from me, because up until now I’ve kept my work firmly in the contemporary world. I started this project last year. A trilogy of erotic ménage retellings of classic fairy tales with my own personal twist. I’m approaching these differently than I do my other works. I’ll complete all three tales and release them close together, since there is some synchronicity to the story lines.

All went well in the writing of the first story, Beasts In Winter (You guessed it! A retelling of Beauty and the Beast, my own personal favorite fairy tale).

A Snippet from Beasts in Winter…

The feline shimmied against her as if trying to keep her warm and then turned her shapely head and gazed off into the distance. Her purring grew loud enough to be audible over the gusting wind. A soft ringing sound drew Angel’s attention and she noticed a bauble made of glass or crystal hung from the cat’s collar. Within the clear material was suspended a blue flower, like a violet. The cat looked into her eyes, as it began a pumping motion with its paws, “making biscuits,” as her grandmother would’ve said. The cat’s eyes were the same brilliant blue as the flower within the bauble.

The cat looked to the horizon again and Angel understood why when she spotted the castle across a clearing, its roof peaks, chimneys, and architectural features piled with snow. Was she directing her there?

Wait, what? Directing me? I must be hallucinating.

Sunlight poured down on the palatial fortress and the ice crystals covering the structure glittered, dazzling her for a moment. “Whoa. Sorry, pretty girl, but I need to go back. This…this is crazy.”

“Put down the animal.”

Chills rippled down her spine at the gritty, almost inhuman quality of the voice.

Don’t show fear. It’s not a bear or a monster. If they can speak they can be reasoned with. Just don’t…show…fear.

“Are you deaf or do you have a death wish? Put down the animal.”

Angel turned and nearly lost her footing. Her knees wobbled, as well as her grip on the cat, who just kept purring and making biscuits. What stood before her was something out of her wildest, darkest dreams—no, not dreams. Nightmares.

“Holy…” Did one cuss in front of a monster? “Shit. What-what are you?”

Two massive beasts loomed before her.

Steam puffed from their mouths and their nostrils as they breathed the wintry air. Clothed in leather in an antiquated fashion, as if they were warriors of old, both also wore shaggy hooded cloaks that appeared to be made from the hides of bears.

She blinked and looked up at them towering over her from several feet away and then looked at the blue-eyed cat, who seemed pleased to keep rubbing on her and purring, as though two hairy, threatening beasts weren’t standing ready to tear her limb from limb. Feeling as though she was standing at the widening void between reality and a really fucked up fantasy, she realized she must be dreaming or losing it—and a hysterical giggle erupted from her throat. “Did I trip and hit my head in the cave? Jeez, and we tease Elaina about being the clumsy one. Am I hallucinating? This can’t be real.”

Her moment of levity was cut short by the bulkier and scarier of the two, who growled again. “Put. Down. The. Animal.”

Totally real. Really real. Really really real. I’m gonna die.

Such a wave of terror coursed through her at the ferocious voice, she froze and slammed her eyes shut. The cat hissed and growled at the beast, and over the pounding of her heart in her ears and the chattering of her teeth Angel thought she heard an amused snort.

“Fine,” the angry beast snarled, its voice as rough as a gravel truck driving on a bad road. “You’re not an animal. Woman, put down the feline and don’t move.”

Pulse roaring in her ears, Angel’s throat went dry as she darted her gaze around, looking at the snowy ground, anywhere but at the monsters. Looking for the cave. If she could reach it, it was her best chance for evasion. Her only chance. But the cave was nowhere in sight. Not hidden from view by the snowfall. There was no cave opening anywhere in sight, just a bare slope.

Normally the strategist among her friends, only one idea came to her mind as she looked at the snow caking her boots and the castle beyond the clearing. The snow wasn’t terribly deep and no way was she letting herself or the cat get eaten without at least trying to escape.

Woman, do as I say. Put down the cat and do not think to run.”

Another growl, angrier and more ferocious than the first, vibrated from his massive chest as she tucked the cat to her side and backed up a step. His eyes glowed silver as he advanced. The cat mewed plaintively to her, which she took for fear, and she exercised the only option her mind would consider.

Run! Now!

In the midst of writing the second story,

Midnight of the Fae (a retelling of Cinderella) I hit a wall creatively, personally, and online. I set the project aside, promising myself that I’d go back and figure out where I went wrong in telling that story.

The last couple of weeks I’ve been working on the trilogy, writing the second draft of Beasts In Winter, and then moving on to Midnight of the Fae. I’m happy to say that with a little help from my muse, inspiring music, and my awesome PA Lily Castle I found the problem. It’s fixed now. I can move forward and complete that story and move right into The Dance of the Dragon Sorceress(retelling Snow White) as soon as I finish.

I know fantasy is not every reader’s cup of tea

but I’m counting on a simple belief that I hope readers share with me. If I love an author’s style, I will read everything they write. I hope my readers will make this jump with me from contemporary. I’ll still be writing Divine Creek Ranch stories, don’t worry. I’m just stretching my creative wings. I can’t tell you how much of a relief it was to finally pinpoint the problem in that story. Nothing throws an author quite like not being able to figure out where they went wrong in a story.

If I can go back to Divine for a minute…

(and yeah, I know this is no longer a short update, but when have I ever been able to say hello in less than 80,000 words? 😀 )

Readers have told me over the years how much they enjoy the appearances of past main characters in my Divine Creek Ranch stories, whether it’s a major role or just a simple cameo. If you’re one of those readers, you’re going to love Operation Ginger Avenger. Because of certain story elements, past characters are popping up all over the place. Grace is pregnant up to her eyeballs, Lydia is cooking up all kinds of mischief, Bunny is in trouble again, or still, and Hank’s fan girls find the map to Divine and finally come to town. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

You can follow me on Facebook and Twitter for updates about the series, and join my reader’s group, Divine Divas, for insider information about what I’m up to. There is also a Divine Creek Ranch Book Discussion group, where the stories are discussed regularly. I share excerpts from my works in progress from both groups as well as inspiration pictures, eye candy, music, and whatever else pertains to my writing the series.

Email me to be added to the Divine Divas, and you can click the link below to be added to the Book Discussion Group. You’ll also find links on my Contact Heather page. Just click on the menu button.

I know many of you want one question answered.

“When are these books coming out?” This year is my plan. I appreciate your patience, and count on the fact that when I have release dates I will publicize them here and online. I love making readers happy but I’ve come to terms with the fact I can’t rush the creative process. I’d rather take the time and make it worth your wait than apologize for hastily written stories. Just know that I’m at the keyboard on a daily basis now.

That’s it for now.

Seize the day, baby! ~H

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Super Bowl Shut Out

This pickup line from the Dancing Pony was timed perfectly for Super Bowl weekend.

Several cowboys were sitting at the bar talking with the bartenders about great moments from past Super Bowls.tumblr_ma9pvuVPgB1qaobbko1_500

One of the cowboys, named Justice, impressed me with the way he could recall quotes from Vince Lombardi about winning and persistence and things like that, and I was reminded that they don’t call it the Lombardi Trophy for no reason. He was not only a great man and a great coach, but also a great motivator.

41kElgvZ0tL__SY300_ While all this discussion was going on,

there was a table of ladies sitting close by. None of the ladies seemed interested in what the men were talking about until Justice said, “My favorite all time quote is ‘Teamwork is what the Green Bay Packers were all about. They didn’t do it for the individual glory. They did it because they loved one another.’ That’s got to be the best.”

Justice seemed a little choked up

when he said it like it had a special significance to him. Then all the other cowboys gave him a hard time about being mushy and soft.

A pretty cowgirl named Julia, sitting at the table full of ladies must’ve overheard Justice and came over to him and said, “I recognized that quote you were just saying. That was my grand-daddy’s favorite Lombardi quote, too. He was a big, big Packers fan.

Have you ever read any books about Lombardi?”

Justice said, “Yes ma’am, I have. He’s one of my heroes.”

Then she smiled and said, “I’m Julia. Why don’t we move somewhere a little more private so we can share our favorite Lombardi quotes?”

Justice said “Sure, Julia, I’d like that.”b9a0e7a1bcf441d263d52d475a4214c5

Justice’s buddies took all this in with mouths gaping as he grinned and pushed back his chair.

They both started for a table in the corner but Justice stepped back up to the bar, grinned at his buddies, and said,

“I’m just gonna take my soft and mushy ass over there with that beautiful cowgirl. See you chumps later.”

One of the bartenders started laughing and said, “Gentlemen, I do believe we’ve just been schooled.”

I’ll leave you with my favorite Lombardi quote:

“Confidence is contagious; so is lack of confidence.”

Cheers, y’all!Lombardi-quote

Amazed

This one’s not really a pickup line but it was the obvious end result of what must’ve been a successful line at some point in the past. I was sort of “in” on this one so it was fun to watch it all unfold in the Dancing Pony.

As previously planned, a group of women came in during happy hour and they all sat down at a table next to the dance floor. Among their group was a young woman named Mirta (Spanish pronunciation is Meer-tah) who works at a local restaurant. Mirta seemed a little tired to me, as though she’d had a long work day.

The ladies ordered a pitcher of Divine Margaritas and one of her friends poured one for Mirta and set it in front of her first. While they talked and had a good time, a couple of them kept a look out.

Suddenly, as if on cue they all closed in around Mirta just enough to block her view of the club, just as a cowboy named Domingo, the foreman of a large cattle ranch outside Divine, walked in. Domingo waved at me and Ben, and then walked up to Dave at the DJ booth, talked briefly with him, and then made his way over to Mirta’s table. As had been previously arranged, Dave put on, “Amazed” by Lonestar.

With all her friends gathered around her, Mirta was distracted and couldn’t him standing there. Domingo then took a knee behind them, removed his black felt cowboy hat and held it to his chest, bowed his head, and held up a small, opened box.

The ladies parted, revealing Domingo to Mirta. She laid eyes on him, on bended knee just as this line from the Lone Star song played, “I wanna spend the rest of my life with you by my side…”

Mirta, who hadn’t smiled since she’d arrived, gasped. Her hands flew to her mouth as she squealed and she jumped out of her seat, practically tackling Domingo with a hug.

Being a good-natured guy, Domingo laughed as he caught her and managed to keep them both from toppling to the floor. “Babydoll, will you make me the happiest man that ever lived and marry me?”

With face pink as he helped her to her feet, Mirta nearly shouted, “Oh, hell yes, I’ll marry you, cowboy!”

Ben started laughing and said, “Wonder what would’ve happened if Dave had played ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’ instead.”

While they were dancing to that same song later that night, I was told that it was the first song they’d ever danced to together in the Dancing Pony. Knowing Domingo, his pickup line was probably just as effective.

If you’ve never heard Lonestar’s version of this pop hit, enjoy the video…

———

Note from Heather Rainier and Ethan Grant…

Thanks for joining us and reading the latest from the Dancing Pony. These “Slices of Life from the Dancing Pony” are really just glimpses into the every night life at the nightclub. They’re written from Ethan Grant’s point of view and then edited (and possibly embellished) by Heather. Because they are written from his perspective, the content isn’t erotic (because how would it look if he popped out of their closet all “Oh, hey, y’all go back to what you were doin’!”) but we do try to make sure you enjoy the way connections are made in the nightclub.

For more erotic content, please visit the book pages on Heather’s website (see links in menu) and click on the links to Amazon, BookStrand, or B&N, as well as to excerpts. You can also check out all the other Slices of Life from the Dancing Pony by browsing through the menu.

The most recent post on the blog is a Christmas story featuring Cassie, Samson, and Ivan from the next book in the series, How Cassie Got Her Groove Back, coming this spring. It’s a look back at when they were teenagers, and is told from Ivan’s perspective.

Comments are always welcome, comments may be held for moderation, especially for first time commenters.

Oh! and before you go, don’t forget to check out my Works in Progress page!