I’ve always considered myself more an
Historical writer than contemporary, though in recent years I’ve become very
associated with both contemporary and paranormal genres. The thing is, when I
am feeling lost about where to go next, I inevitably go back to the Old West.
My first heroes were cowboys and the love affair has never died.
Winner
Take All is a combination of influences for me, and
Dylan Coulter is many heroes rolled into one. He has Paladin’s charm and easy
grace, Chris Larabee’s intensity and deadly accuracy with a gun, and probably
both men’s tempers when pushed. (For those who don’t recognize those names –
Paladin is Have Gun, Will Travel,
played by the late Richard Boone, and Chris Larabee is The Magnificent Seven, played by Michael Biehn.) The heroine,
Maggie, is a lady with fight, brains, and independence–she’s the heroine I
often wished had graced the screen with the heroes I love.
Here’s a revisit/look at Winner Take All:
Historical/Western Erotica Novella
Amazon • Barnes & Noble • Google Books • iTunes • Smashwords • ARe Romance • Publisher
When Dylan Coulter rides into Sparkling Springs,
he quickly discovers the woman who runs the local saloon is worth the risk of
facing the hangman. Things get ugly fast when Dylan is accused of killing the
only son of the richest rancher in the area. Unwilling to leave her behind,
Dylan takes Maggie with him as he tries to dodge bounty hunters and a
determined Pinkerton agent who just happens to be Maggie's old love...
Excerpt:
Fifteen minutes after they’d
separated upstairs, Maggie was waiting in the main room of the saloon. She
heard a heavy footfall on the stairs and swung around to look at him.
For the second time that
night, Dylan Coulter took her breath away. He’d changed from his riding clothes
into a suit of rich, dark blue. His shirt was pale blue, ruffled at the cuffs
and down the front. His silk tie was black, and the jacket he was pulling on
drew her attention to broad shoulders and the undeniable impression of strength
and power. He hadn’t bothered with a hat, and his dark brown hair was neatly
combed, the deep waves gleaming when he passed under a lamp.
As he continued his walk
toward her, her eyes drifted over him. Narrow hips flowed into long legs that
were muscled from many hours spent on horseback. His boots were polished black
leather, and the silver spurs were more ornate than functional. A gold chain
dipped gracefully from the pocket of his burgundy vest, and the watch fob was a
small, exquisitely carved replica of an old-fashioned flintlock pistol. At his
hip, once again, rested a polished black gun, holster and shell belt lacking
ornamentation.
A tiny sliver of ice formed
at the base of her spine and began a swift ascent, chilling the back of her
neck in heartbeats. He knows how to use that gun, too, a tiny voice murmured
inside her head. The knowledge scared her a lot more than she wanted it to,
though she wasn’t sure why it should.
“Maggie?”
She actually started at the
sound of his quiet, richly timbred voice. His accent, like so much else about
him, was something of a mystery; it revealed lingering traces of the south, but
also the precision of an education obtained abroad. There was a subtle,
growling purr in the texture of his speech A sound that made her feel awkward
and vaguely disoriented. She’d felt a shadow of that kind of feeling only once
before, and the reminder of it unsettled her further.
“Mr. Coulter.” She tried to
smile, and knew it was only a partial success when his eyebrow rose, curiosity
lighting the deep azure gaze that studied her. “Dylan,” she corrected softly.
“Shall we go?” It was safer than standing around looking at him. She was
distinctly certain that too long in his presence would not bode well for her
peace of mind.
“Ma’am.” He nodded and
offered his arm. “How far is this café?”
“A few doors down,” she said,
and waited while he locked the saloon and pocketed the key. She opened her
mouth to question the action, then chose not to bother.
“How much money did Billy
Madison lose to you?” She asked the question carefully, a deep reticence about
the answer stirring something akin to dread in her heart.
“A fair bit,” Dylan replied,
his tone casual. “He assures me his daddy will be happy to pay the debt.” He
looked down at her, a tiny smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “Is that
true, Maggie. Or is the boy really as stupid as he seems?”
She sighed and shook her
head. “Unfortunately, both.”
Dylan nodded. “Is this the
place we’re looking for?” They’d stopped outside a small building with several
windows in the front, and a sign above the door that read Wilkins Café.
She glanced at the door, with
its shutter down but a light clearly burning inside. She smiled. “Yes, this is
it.”
* * *
“She’s pretty friendly with
that stranger, Billy,” Gil Horner noted as they watched from the concealment of
an alley across the street from the café. He wasn’t much interested in Billy
Madison’s attempts to win Maggie Watson’s heart, but Billy’s father paid him
well to keep the kid alive. He had the feeling this would be one night when he
had to earn his pay by more forceful means than the threat of his presence. If
the kid went after Coulter, Gil knew they didn’t really stand much of a chance.
Coulter had an air about him that Horner had encountered before; he was
dangerous, cool, and confident. All the things Billy Madison wasn’t, of course.
“Why don’t you just leave it, kid?” he advised, knowing as he spoke that the
boy wouldn’t be deterred.
“Maggie and me have an
understandin’, Gil,” Billy objected. “I don’t aim to leave her alone to face
the likes of Dylan Coulter.”
Grinding his teeth in
frustration, Horner grabbed the young man by the shoulder and spun him around
so he could look Billy in the eye.
“What you and Maggie Watson
have is a misunderstandin’, kid,” he snarled. “She’s out of your league, Billy.
Leave her alone before it gets you killed!”
He waited, and in a detached
corner of his mind, he gave the kid a once over. Billy was a good-looking boy,
with light brown eyes and hair as black as his Indian mother’s had been. He
carried the best features of both his parents, and there wasn’t a girl within a
fifty-mile radius who wouldn’t be eager to marry him. Nature being perversely
absurd, the only woman he’d ever expressed an interest in was the one who
didn’t want him. Maggie was twenty-five to Billy’s nineteen, and Gil had
wondered a few times if that wasn’t her primary objection to the kid. Horner
had made a play for her once, and like others, she'd shot him down with kind,
but firm words.
“You still hankerin’ for her
yourself, Gil?” Billy asked with a sneer. “That why you want me to give up?”
“I’m not a man who likes to
be turned down more than once, kid,” Gil snapped. “She said no, and I’m willin’
to leave it at that. Unlike you,” he added pointedly.
“Go home, Gil,” Billy
ordered. “If I need backup, I can find Boyd.”
“Billy,” Horner began with
forced patience. “The Sheriff’s out of town. Boyd ain’t in a position to be
doin’ you favors. He’s the deputy, let him do his job.”
Billy started to object, just
as Horner knew he would. Gil’s closed fist rose straight up, clipping the boy
soundly beneath the chin, snapping his teeth together and knocking him out cold
in a matter of seconds. Sighing heavily, Gil caught the kid’s weight, hefted
him onto one broad shoulder, and headed down the alley to the waiting horses.
Billy would be madder than a caged bobcat come morning, but that was better
than dead. At least in Horner’s book.
6 comments:
Wonderful excerpt, Denyse - you know how much I love your books. :)
This sounds great. I'll check it out on ARe.
What a great cover and excerpt! I wish you all the best with this sale!
You surely know how to write and pick an excerpt, girl. May you make mucho bucks with this one.
Thanks so much, ladies!! I enjoyed writing this one, and the reviews have been awesome. Seems readers like it, too.
Cheers, D
Loved the excerpt, Denyse. I think cowboys were my first romantic heroes, first in film and then in every book I could get my hands on. Best of luck with Winner Take All!
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