BLUSHING PUBLICATIONS...Current Serialized Books

Bet Your Boots

...a contemporary Western romance with adult content, currently published as weekly chapters until a complete novel at Bethany's Woodshed.

Cole Whitlock was bone weary. There wasn't a square inch of his body that didn't throb, especially on his bad leg. And his mood had headed south the second that ornery calf had slipped away from the herd he and Rusty had been moving three hours ago. All he wanted was a big piece of whatever pie his Great Aunt Bessie had made today, a bottle of beer--maybe a whole six pack of beer--and to kick off his boots. Then to be left alone.

But when he limped his way out of the horse barn, he looked across the ranch yard toward his home and spotted a hot pink Jeep in his driveway. What the hell? He didn't know anyone who drove such a ridiculous behicle. He forced his feet to move in the direction of the big Colonial-style farmhouse he'd inherited along with the responsibilities of running the CW Ranch.

Closer to the house now, he squinted and made out the license plate on the Jeep: ROMANCE1. His aunt had some oddball elderly friends. But "ROMANCE1"? Squinting even more he made out the bumper sticker: I Brake for Frogs, with a picture of a woman's red lips kissing a frog as it started transforming into a crown-wearing prince. Weird, definitely belonged to some nutty woman.

"It's about time you showed up," his Aunt Bessie called to him and snagged his attention.

"If I weren't plum wore out, I'd still be doing chores" He strode by the Jeep, shook his head at it. "Which of your lady friends does this belong to?"

"Doesn't belong to any of my friends. It belongs to that doctor of yours that arrived a couple of hours ago." She shifted to the side so he could walk into the house. "Some of the boys helped her unload the U-haul into Victoria's house. I insisted she come to the main house here to have a cool drink while we wauted for you."

"My doctor? She?" He drew a complete blank.

Bessie rolled her eyes behind the thick glasses. "Dr. James, of course. That friend of your sister. Remember?"

"Not really," he said, but she'd already headed off toward the back of the house, probably the kitchen. He caught the faint scent of apple pie and sped after her.

"I gave her some of that red punch you had in the pitcher in the refrigerator. That stuff leftover from Rusty's birthday party last week."

"Bessie," he groaned, thinking about the highly spiked punch he should have poured out instead of saving. "That wasn't regular punch."

"Well, it was in the pitcher I always put lemonade in." Her tone made it clear that he'd broken some kitchen etiquette rule. "Your doctor was rather thirsty. She drank a couple of glassfuls. Then, as I was asking about the plans she had for using the guest loding this summer...Well, her face fell flat down on the table. Right smack on her nose. Mercifully, she didn't break it."

Cole blinked. Stone drunk. Perfect.

"She's still there. In the kitchen. Passed out." She heaved a sigh. "Looks like you'll have to carry her back to Victoria's house."

"Dammit, Bessie," he grumbled in disgust, only to add, "Sorry" when she scowled in disapproval.

He started to edge around her, resigned to checking on the unwanted guest, when he froze. Shit! He finally realized just who this woman was, this friend of his sister. He and Victoria had spent the first month he'd come back to the ranch after his broken leg had healed arguing about almost everything. In the year that his parents had moved down to Florida, after sharing ownership of the ranch with Bessie for as long as he could remember, Bessie turned the CW into both a working ranch and a guest ranch. Victoria, who shared the fifty percent ownership from their parents with him, was wild about the idea. He hated it. But the ranch needed working capital right now. Rent money from the guest ranch part made sense. So she'd mentioned knowing someone who might be interesteed in renting the guest lodge all summer. He'd decided to leave that whole part of the ranch business up to her And he hadn't really thought she'd come through. She had and he'd forgotten about it. Shit!

He moved past his tiny aunt and remembered that he'd actually signed some agreement about the rental. M. M. James. He'd assumed it would be a man. Victoria hadn't bothered to correct his mininterpretation. What was Victoria up to? She knew how he felt about women at the moment, which wasn't good. His mood soured. Especially when he thought about spending the next few months with a woman on his ranch. Bessie didn't count. Other than her, though, just the thought of women left a bad taste in his mouth. Two divorces in ten years did that to a man. He hadn't even met this new female in his life and already she was giving him grief.