Going Looooong

Most of my readers know that I tend to write novella length but I sense a change in the air with all of that stuff. I've known for awhile that my current work in progress was a whole lot of story and I finally realized the other night that this book just needs to be longer. I swear, I've written the beginning over and over and just nothing about it was connecting with me. I knew something was wrong but just couldn't figure out what it was.

This all started when I realized I had too many things that I wanted to happen. I've figured out the ending but not how my hero and heroine will get to it and, this time, the journey will be rocky. Sooooo. After much agonizing, I've decided to write an outline for Lawman (book five of my High Plains Shifters series). My thoughts on this one are just too jumbled and I keep thinking the outline will corral those pesky little ideas into some kind of cohesion. This is new for me. Haven't tried this before.

I also came to the conclusion that longer will be better for this story. Yes, it will take more time to write but that's okay. Gotta do what we've gotta do sometimes. I have several full length novels out there now but it has been awhile since I've tackled a longer piece. Should be interesting. Will I yank my hair until I'm bald? Who knows? Might start a trend. Do you write from an outline or by the seat of your pants? I know some authors have big storyboards complete with charts and note cards. Don't know how something like that would work. Hmm. Anyone know?

Since it's the weekend and I'm ALL about THAT, I thought I'd leave you with a little sneak peek of my upcoming release, Trouble in a Stetson. This is book 2 of the Sequins, Saddles and Spurs series with Desiree Holt (Trouble in Cowboy Boots, Book 1, July 28) and Ciana Stone (Trouble in Chaps, Book 3, TBA). Trouble in a Stetson releases August 4 at Ellora's Cave.

Blurb:

Book 2 in the Sequins, Saddles and Spurs series.

Lola Lamont leaves Vegas with two pals never imagining they’d break down in smalltown Texas. So what’s a former showgirl to do when she runs smack dab into the hottest sheriff south of the Mason Dixon line? Why, jump his bones, of course! Sam is more than ready to handle some sass, spunk and sex with her but is he willing to gamble on love?

Sam Campbell takes one look at the Vegas Bombshell and knows damn good and well she belongs under him in bed. She probably has the word goldigger tattooed to her ass but he’s ready to take what the sexy blonde has to offer. Vowing to protect his heart, Sam rocks her world. Too bad she’s rocking his right back. The stakes are high and the only thing Sam has to lose is his heart.


An Excerpt From: TROUBLE IN A STETSON

Copyright © REGINA CARLYSLE, 2010

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One



Lola Lamont gave her poor old pink Caddy a baleful look through the plate glass windows of Blue Belle’s Café and heaved a giant sigh. Her sweet baby had pretty much bitten the dust and her current companions at the table were right, she needed to be put out of her misery. Lola and her friends, Roxie and Emily, had rolled into the tiny town of Mesa Blanco, Texas with the old monstrosity of a car gasping and wheezing like a two pack a day smoker.

Refugees from Vegas, the three friends had, in a moment of madness, said to hell with it and loaded up for a grand adventure with only pennies in their pockets and the good sense of a trio of pigeons.

What the hell had they been thinking?

The sad truth of the matter was they hadn’t been thinking at all. Roxie had lost her job as a security expert for high stakes gaming at a Vegas casino and Emily had been a victim of downsizing in her corporate office. And herself? Lola sighed, still feeling the pain of it all. She had been fired from her show Pink Flamingo Girls for being too old. All those years of dance lessons and keeping her body in primo shape had turned to nothing just days after her thirtieth birthday. Then to make matters worse, her boyfriend Nick had dumped her days after that. Talk about a double whammy. Lola had never been one to have little pity parties for herself but she was about as blue as the décor of Mesa Blanco, Texas’ only café.

They’d stumbled into the place, exhausted, stressed and dying of thirst only to be met by three of the hunkiest, rope-’em-up, tie-’em-down cowboys they’d ever seen. The place had been practically empty except for them and, gallant gents that they were, the men had treated them to soft drinks, lord love ’em. Wyatt Cavenaugh, a local rancher, had already offered Emily a job as a cook of all things. Dang woman could barely boil water. Together they’d driven off in the man’s big truck. Roxie was, at the moment, caught up in a low conversation with the handsome owner of the local honky tonk.

Tension ratcheted up a notch when the other dark, hunkalicious man moved closer to her and leaned in. The scent of him filled her head. “Want another Coke?”

Lola felt that deep, gravelly and oh-so-sexy voice roll over her body to settle in her pussy. Uh-oh. Trouble in a Stetson, for sure. Ever a sucker for a rough, smoky voice, she nodded. “You’re sweet but no thanks. Sam, is it?”

He tipped his big, black Stetson, his dark eyes burning with a look she’d come to recognize from just about every man she’d ever met. Hunger. Desire. Lust. Definite interest. Ooh boy. Did she ever know that look. “Sam Campbell, county sheriff.” His kissable lips turned up at the corners and Lola’s heart thumped hard in her chest. Late afternoon sunlight beamed through the window near the table to settle on the lines of his bronzed, weathered face and glinted on dark hair that she was dying to get a better look at.

“Lola.”

“Yeah, Lamont, a Vegas damsel in distress.”

Arching a brow, she gave him a considering look. “And you’ve come riding in on your big white horse?”

“Looks like it.”

“My hero. Nice to meet you.” Smiling, she held out her hand which he immediately engulfed in his. The warmth of his touch was sudden and unexpected and Lola felt the loss when he finally released her.

Damn if he wasn’t the sexiest man she’d seen in a long, long time and that included Nick Mantucci whom she’d thought was awfully handsome. Nick was a smooth operator who wore designer suits like he was born to them. Not this man. Sam Campbell could’ve stepped out of a scene from one of those old shoot-’em-up movies she used to watch late at night when she couldn’t sleep. Tall, at least six-four or five of brawn and yummy goodness, he not only wore the authority of the sheriff’s badge pinned to his black shirt but carried it on his broad shoulders. The chest beneath that shirt was mounded and muscular practically making her fingers twitch with the need to touch. The man oozed testosterone and wasn’t this a hell of a time to notice such a thing?

Mentally rolling her eyes at her silly turn of thoughts, she glanced away regretfully thinking wrong time and wrong place. Besides, she was just done with men. Especially those who made promises they’d had no intention of keeping.

“So what are you gonna do, Miz Lola?” Sam quietly sipped his coffee.

Sighing deeply, she jabbed her straw into her now empty beverage glass making the ice cubes rattle. “Look for a job, I figure.” Feeling more tired than she’d felt in years, she leaned back in her chair and sent her gaze around the room as she tried to think. Her eyes lit on the fluorescent orange “help wanted” sign in the window. Straightening suddenly, she started to get up then remembered her manners. “Excuse me a minute, Sam.”

Feeling his gaze on her back, Lola grabbed up the sign and walked up to the taciturn, gray haired woman standing behind the counter. The heels of Lola’s cute high heeled sandals click clicked out a warning and the matronly lady glanced up with a frown.

“Can I help ya, Miss?”

Lola set the sign on the counter. “Looks like you need help and I’d like to apply. Can you tell me who I need to talk with about a job?”

“You’d need to talk to me. I’m Belle Warren.” Belle, all of five two and built like an army tank, looked her up and down slowly and Lola got the feeling she didn’t like what she saw. Figured. Lola was pretty much used to that reaction. “Where ya from, little missy?”

“Vegas, ma’am.”

“Bull dung,” she said matter-of-factly. “That ain’t no city voice you’ve got there, girl.”

Lola opened her mouth to speak when Sam walked up and set his coffee cup on the counter. “Can I get a refill, Belle?”

That got a smile from Belle as she grinned and reached for the coffee pot. “Sure thing, Sheriff.” Seeming to forget Lola’s presence for the moment, she finally turned back to Lola and planted her fists on ample hips. “No sirree. You’ve got the deep south stamped all over you. Where you from?”

Sam propped his gorgeous denim-covered butt on the nearest stool and listened unabashedly. Though it was damn hard, Lola tried to forget about him and focused on Belle.

“I’m from a little bitty town just outside Jackson, Mississippi.”

“You grew up there?”

“Yes’m. And I waited tables too. From the time I turned sixteen. I’m a really hard worker, Belle.”

“Hmph. Well, we’ll just see about that, I reckon. Now this ain’t permanent. Got that? Merrylee Hawkins just had a baby and she’ll be back for her job in about six weeks or so. That’s all I’ve got to offer.”

“Oh no, that’s okay,” she rushed. “I just need to make enough money to get out of town.”

“Why? You have somewhere you need to go?”

Lola had to think about that.

No, she really didn’t but she just couldn’t see herself staying here. The sleepy town of Mesa Blanco was far too similar to the town where she grew up and she hadn’t been able to leave that place fast enough. Nope. She wouldn’t be staying. Finally she shook her head and sighed. “Not really. I guess I just need some time to figure things out.”

“Okay then, I’ll try you out for awhile, Lola.”

Relief swept her and then she thought of something else. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Someone mentioned something about a rooming house?”

“Staying there requires money,” Belle said. She pursed her lips and then seemed to come to some kind of conclusion. “Listen here. There’s no need for that. I reckon you’re pretty much busted.”

“You’ve got that right. I’m a downright pauper at this point.”

“I figured. You ladies rolled in here without two plug nickels between you considering the three of you were gonna share one drink. Hell, I was prepared to contribute to the cause until Sam here, Wyatt, and Cliff jumped in to spring for the drinks. It’s clear ya’ll are pretty broke.”

“Pitiful.”

“Ain’t it just.” Belle shook her head. “Tell ya what. I’ve got a little apartment out back behind the café. I lived there when I was younger, back before I married and started a family. Over the years I’ve rented it out but it’s empty now. It’s not much but it’s furnished and clean. You can stay there until you get on your feet. How’s that sound?”

Lola was so overwhelmed she wiggled around in celebration and impulsively ran around the edge of the counter to give Belle a hug. Belle Warren was a sweetheart despite her gruff demeanor. Lola knew a little something about being judged on the basis of appearance. She should’ve known better. “Thank you. Thank you. Lordy! You won’t be sorry, ma’am.”

Belle stiffly patted her back. “Hell, I’m already sorry.”

Happy Friday!

My week ended with a bang not a whimper when I got a brand new cover yesterday! WOOT! Nothing makes my day like yummy cover goodness. So? What do you think? Ellora's Cave's Syneca does a bang up job and, for this story, she got just the right tone. Trouble in a Stetson is part of a three book series with authors Desiree Holt, Ciana Stone and MOI. Desiree's Trouble in Cowboy Boots releases July 28. Mine will follow soon but I don't have a release date yet. Soon, I hope. Then Ciana's Trouble in Chaps will tie things up with a neat little bow. This series, Sequins, Saddles and Spurs chronicles the adventures of three friends who leave Vegas in an attempt to escape the troubles in their lives. They 'break down' in Mesa Blanco, Texas and hook up with the hot cowboys of their dreams.

And speaking of series.....book one in the Texas Passions series (Ellora's Cave) released this week. Eagle's Run by Desiree Holt sets up the tale of a young woman who realizes after the death of her father that not only does she have two illegitimate brothers but they will share ownership of the ranch she'd always believed was hers alone. Eagle's Redemption, by Cindy Spencer Pape, tells Dash's story (June 16) and Eagle's Refuge, my story, releases one week later (June 23). So mark you calendars to pick these stories up!

Buy it Here!

Blurb:

Book 1 in the Texas Passions series.

Her father was murdered by an unknown killer. Now Leah Morgan, the half-Comanche daughter of the owner of White Eagle Ranch, is faced with his unsolved murder, as well as two illegitimate half brothers who have each been left a share of the ranch. If not for Shane Duffy, the hot-looking, hot-blooded veterinarian, she’d be falling apart completely.

As she fights to retain control of the ranch and considers her heritage, Leah finds comfort in long nights of sweaty sex with Shane. And then there’s Grant Fallon, the geologist who wants to show Leah he can bring her more screaming orgasms than the hunky vet if she’ll just give him a chance.

But someone has an ulterior motive. Is it Shane? Grant? One of her half brothers? Leah might find the answer…if she’s not too busy chasing away the shadows in the arms of her lover.

Excerpt:


Chapter One



Leah Morgan forced herself to sit still in the massive leather chair, moving only her eyes as she scanned the occupants of the law office. No one looking at her could tell her heart was racing and her blood pounding as if she’d just exploded in the throes of orgasm. For a brief moment, as the full scenario she faced hit her, she wished herself back generations. Today she wanted to be one of the fierce Comanche warriors she’d read so much about, brandishing a spear, the light reflecting off the war paint streaking her face as she attacked.

It took every bit of her self-control to tamp all of that down, put a tight lid on it and assess the situation.

Situation!

She snorted. Now there was a word for you. This was far more than a situation.

She’d come here today for what she thought was a mere formality, a scan of some documents, a few signatures. She’d actually almost forgotten the appointment until Amos DeWitt, her father’s long-time attorney, had called to remind her. Shouldn’t take too long, he told her. Just the reading of the will. Then she could get back to the ranch—her ranch—White Eagle Ranch—and on with her life.

Not for the first time she cursed the poachers who somehow managed to breach their fence lines in the dark of night and shoot the white-tail deer that ran wild on their ranch. A large herd ranged over their property but White Eagle wasn’t a hunting preserve and they didn’t even allow licensed hunters. And now, she was sure, one of those scumbags had been responsible for her father’s death. The grief she’d suffered since her father’s murder simmered beneath the surface, a luxury she didn’t have time to indulge in at the moment. She couldn’t afford to. She had work to do. Responsibilities to take care of. But walking into the familiar law office had changed everything. She stopped at the sight of the two men waiting with Amos. The last thing she’d expected was to be told they were her illegitimate half brothers. She’d stumbled to the closest chair, fisting her hands to control the quaking inside her.

Illegitimate half brothers? Joe’s children?

Mac Moreno was not exactly a stranger to her. Withdrawn and often morose, he had carefully nursed his mother, a housekeeper at one of the local ranches, through a long bout of cancer. Apparently both he and the town were surprised that she’d left him a small life insurance policy, which he used to buy the local honky-tonk, renaming it Hell’s Bells. Now he scratched out a living serving as his own bartender, bouncer and manager. He lived in the apartment on the second floor and did his socializing out of the area. If he did any at all.

That was the total extent of Leah’s knowledge of him. What was he doing here?

Then Amos had introduced the other man. Dashiel Hyde—Amos told her he preferred to be called Dash—as if she cared. He sat as far away from everyone as he could get at the end of the long padded couch. The first thing Leah noticed about him was the dead look in his eyes. Then came the scars on his face and hands. And finally the hint of nerve injury in one leg as he shifted position.

Joe had apparently met Dash’s flight attendant mother on a trip to Dallas. When she told him she was pregnant she’d been paid well, Amos said, under the condition neither she nor the child ever contacted him, so she’d raised her son alone in Chicago. Dash was now a retired cop on disability.

Then came the real shock.

These two men were going to be her partners in the ranch. Her ranch. As she listened to Amos read the will and discovered Joe had left each of them an equal share, the Comanche blood in her veins began to boil again. What she wouldn’t give to have the late, great Comanche chief Quanah Parker with her right now. He’d never lost a battle to the white man.

Of course, she reminded herself, in the end he surrendered to the white man only when he saw there was no alternative. Leah was far from ready to go that route. Yet.

The remnants of a recent dream flashed across her brain. Two eagles chasing her, a vulture swooping in after all of them. Then it was gone as quickly as it came. The dream had disturbed and frightened her so much she’d pushed it from her mind, but now a shiver skated over her, as if she’d somehow missed a warning.

Tightening her hands in her lap and pinning Amos with her gaze, she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.

“I don’t believe it. Not one word of it. This is some kind of scam. I don’t have any brothers and that ranch is mine. Just mine.” She raised her voice. “It was always understood. What’s going on here, Amos? What’s that old man trying to pull from the grave?” She banged a fist on her knee. “Grandfather warned me not to trust him and he was right. The old fart.”

“Leah!” The older man raised his eyebrows then sighed, leaning back in his desk chair, fingers precisely lining up the documents in front of him.

“Amos!” she spat back at him.

“I told your daddy this would turn out bad,” he said, shaking his head. “I warned him but he just didn’t want to listen to me. It’s a hell of a thing when a man gets a conscience that late in life. Leaves a mess for everyone else to clean up.”

“Conscience?” She let her gaze travel slowly from one person to the other. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

For one very insane moment she imagined none of this was happening. That it was still last night and she was back in her huge four poster bed lying in the very masculine embrace of Shane Duffy, sheets tangled and the air filled with the heady musk of their lovemaking.

Shane! The vet who cured her animals and kept her heart. The man who promised her the moon and delivered on a regular basis. Tall and lean, his body roped with tough muscles from the work he did. Eyes like chicory coffee and an improbable dimple at one corner of his very sensual mouth. And a body that drove her beyond any heights she’d ever dared dream about. After six months together she couldn’t even imagine not having him in her life. She’d never have made it through these last few days without him, that was for sure. Now she needed him more than ever.

God, she could hardly wait to tell him what a goat stampede this was turning out to be. He’d be just as shocked as she was.

Another sigh from Amos. “I guess I’d better start at the beginning. And y’all need to just sit here and listen to me until I’m done.” He glared at them each in turn. “Everyone got that?”

Leah could tell that neither of the men was any happier about it than she was, but she bit her lip—hard—and gave a quick nod of her head. She thought she was prepared for anything, but again she was stunned. Joe Morgan had sowed his wild oats without a care in the world, fathering two sons he’d never claimed and ignoring the women who gave birth to them.

Leah might be tough on the outside but that didn’t mean she didn’t have feelings. She wondered just how hard it had been for Mac, watching his mother die and knowing a man with all the resources at his disposal could have made her last months a lot more comfortable. When she shifted her gaze to him again, it wasn’t hard to miss the resentment simmering in his eyes.

But for whatever reason, before a poacher’s bullet had ended his life, Joe Morgan had decided to try to make things right with his two sons. Men he’d kept his own dirty little secret.

And shafting me while he did it.

Leah wondered if her own mother, Angel Nightwalker, would have been just another of Joe Morgan’s castoffs if her grandfather hadn’t shown up in full war Comanche regalia—something he seldom wore except for exhibitions—with a delegation of equally attired young men when her mother turned up pregnant.

Ken Nightwalker was an elder and recognized leader of the remnants of the Comanche tribe that lived in their own community outside Morgan’s Creek. Where his daughter was concerned he had been adamant. There would be not just a wedding, a sham ceremony to legitimize the child, but a real marriage. Angel would live on the ranch, not apart from Joe. She would be treated as his wife, and Leah would carry the Morgan name and have all the rights and benefits due to a true Morgan offspring.

And the tacit understanding between them was very clear. In the end, the ranch would belong to Leah.

The longer Amos droned on now, the harder it was for Leah to keep her anger in check. She refused to look at either of the two men whose silent presence was almost like a condemnation. She didn’t want or need them in her life, nor welcome any potential interference in White Eagle Ranch. Although she had barely finished grieving Joe’s death, she had plans to make for the future and things to do, and she had no idea how these strangers would fit into them.

Amos’ monologue was suddenly—and blessedly, Leah thought—interrupted by the intercom buzzing on his desk. At that exact moment the door to the outer office flew open and a tall, regal-looking man walked in. He made an imposing picture in jeans and leather shirt, his long graying hair tied back with a thong, not a trace of humor on his hawk-like features.

Leah had to bite back her smile. Yes, royalty clung to every line of Ken Nightwalker’s magnificent, arresting presence.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. DeWitt.” Josie Barker, Amos’ secretary scurried in behind the man. “I told him this was a closed meeting but I don’t think he heard me.”

“Oh I’m sure he did.” Amos waved a hand at her, swallowing his own grin. “No problem, Josie. The gentleman is welcome here any time. I should have invited him myself.” He rose from his chair and extended his hand. “Good to see you, Ken.”

Ken Nightwalker stopped at the front edge of the massive desk and accepted the lawyer’s outstretched hand. Then he bent to kiss Leah on the cheek.

“Granddaughter.” He looked around the room. “Have they boxed you in here?”

She just couldn’t help the tiny smile that tugged at one corner of her mouth. “You taught me never to let anyone do that to me, didn’t you? I would be a foolish granddaughter to ignore the lessons I’ve learned from you.”

Mac pushed himself away from the wall where he’d been leaning in a forced pose of nonchalance. “Riding to the rescue, Nightwalker? I’d think since your precious princess here was the only one old Joe legitimized she wouldn’t need anyone’s protection.”

Leah felt the flare of temper inside her at the “precious princess” label. Only a warning glance from Ken told her to hold her words. Her life on the ranch had been wonderful but nowhere near what those two words implied. If not for her grandfather, growing up with a burr under the saddle like Joe Morgan, especially after her mother died, could have been disastrous. So she held her tongue and waited to see what would play out next.

“So where are we here?” He addressed the question to Amos, surveying everyone else in the room as he spoke. “Ready for me to get out the tomahawks? Amos, how about a real short version of what we’re facing. What Leah’s facing.”

Off and Running

Somehow or other I managed to shake off those blues I suffered from all last week. The sun is shining and Texas temps are warmer than usual. Don't know if the weather shook me back to my old self but whatever it was...YAY! The good thing about bad moods, at least for me, is they usually go away and now I'm back and feeling frisky again.

This weekend I'm attending a mini-reunion with a bunch of sorority sisters. The whole thing came up unexpectedly but I'm really psyched. I haven't seen some of these women for ten years or so (some even longer). Funny thing, one night I was fiddling around on the computer and UP pops this facebook message. One of my sorority sisters figured out somehow who I was. Yes, I write under a pen name and don't have a facebook account in my real name so it was a huge surprise. Ended up finding out my sorority has a facebook page, I got on over there and BAM, instant connection with women I haven't seen in years. It's fun when things like that happen. Soooo, Friday night we're meeting for drinks and catching up. Can't wait. Have to say the social networking sites are pretty cool. So far I've caught up with these ladies and connected with old high school friends. Don't know HOW they found me under the pen name but hey, I'm okay with that. Just happy to reconnect.

In other news: Desiree Holt, Ciana Stone and myself are beginning a new Texas set series for Ellora's Cave. Just getting started on the project but I'm going... WOOT WOOT....over here. Still working on my cougar story and planning some others so things are hopping.

Don't forget to sign up for my super duper contest at Two Lips Reviews. At the end of the month I'll be giving away lots and lots of goodies to one lucky winner. Enter the contest HERE!