Tempting the Cowboy
After taking a job on a quiet Montana dude ranch, ex-cop Rylan Frederickson finds herself surrounded by unbelievably sexy cowboys. Too bad the one she wants is her boss...and the single dad of a four-year-old. It doesn’t matter anyway, because after a recent tragedy, there’s simply no more room in her heart.
Letting a new woman into their life is the last thing Cole Haywood wants for him and his daughter, Birdie. But as Rylan’s presence at Paint River Ranch breathes new life into his family he can’t ignore his growing attraction.
When the sparks between them turn into fireworks in bed, Rylan’s torn between the family she’s lost and the one she may have found. Now she must decide if something that feels this good is worth the risk.
Why I Don’t Write with Cats in the Room
The first thing that drew me to Anna’s blog was the name. Anyone who can poke fun at herding cats, and come up with kick ass kitty graphics is OK by me! I’m a lifelong feline lover, and the (un)lucky slave of three wonderful (horrible) cats. Lily, the Siamese is the conniving, 100-ways-to-kill-the-humans, plotter. Ana May is the stray-turned Queen of All Who Live, who has managed to knock down every ornament from the lower half of the holiday tree about twenty times, and Boobers is the old-fart who only gets up when we poke him. They are furry tornadoes, cannon-balling through the holiday tree, licking the cookies, batting the fudge like a hockey puck and pulling down the stockings. The overall mayhem they cause once a year during the holidays is nothing compared to the general shenanigans they cause every day. In fact, the cats are so wicked, they are no longer allowed in the same room with me while I’m writing. Here’s why:
- When I get up for a snack or something, they not only collaborate on how to kill me without leaving evidence behind (I’m not paranoid! I see it in their eyes!), but walk across my keyboard and email random things like ‘skittlefuft’, and ‘nambigitzumzz’ to my editor. True story. Said editor wasn’t amused.
- They give me judgmental looks while I’m “studying” pics of half-naked cowboys on Pinterest for research. One time, my husband found out about it, having received a text message with a link to my Pinterest board from someone named Kittygansta3. My Siamese appeared very smug as she filed her claws and whistled on the table next to my laptop.
- That creepy turkey-vulture thing that they do. All sitting next to me with their necks arched and their heads down. And what’s with the licking their lips all the time while they do that? And the huge, dead eyes? Yeah, banned from my workspace! Now, to keep them from sitting on my chest and doing that while I wake up in the morning…
- They steal my pens, paper clips, dirty socks, mouse and Diet Coke. And leave nasty ransom notes stuck to my computer screen (seriously, the language! Where did they learn to swear like that?). I’ve found that a bit of catnip usually persuades them to give back what they’ve lifted—that, and remembering to actually feed them on time usually helps.
What do the cats do while I’m in the writing cave? Well, the other day, I found the Angel from the top of our tree gagged and buried in the litter box. Shenanigans, always!
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