The Devil's Own Desperado Blog Tour
- Angela Parker
- Jul 18, 2014
- 6 min read
EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT:
He lit a lantern and searched the warm, quiet building. He found Jenny in Angel’s stall, knees drawn to her chin, arms wrapped around her legs. She was shaking with silent sobs. He hung the lantern on a nail, and let himself into the horse’s stall. Colt sank next to Jenny in the clean straw. She looked up at him, her eyes welling with frightened tears. He slipped his arm around her and she dropped her head to his side, her tears dampening his shirt. “Aw, Jenny, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” She sniffled, and wiped the back of hand across her nose. Angel nudged the girl, his warm breath rustling the bright blue ribbons. Colt pushed the gelding’s head away. “Amy said you saw your momma and daddy killed by some very bad people.” He stroked her back, trying to calm her hiccupping cries.
Jenny lifted her head and nodded, memories darkening her eyes. Her lower lip quivered and tears spilled down her cheeks.
“Jenny, not everyone who carries a gun is going to hurt you.” He caressed her slender arm. “Learning to hunt is something a lot of boys do. It’s part of growing up.”
She shook her head vehemently, and then buried her face against his side. Her arms snaked around him and hugged him tightly, her slender frame shuddering. With a finger under her slender chin, Colt tilted her face up. “Do you think I would ever let anyone hurt you?”
Those huge brown eyes searched his face, and then, slowly, she shook her head.
He drew a deep breath. “Do you think I would give Saul a rifle if I thought he was going to hurt you or Amy with it?”
Again, she slowly shook her head. He brushed her bangs from her forehead, and tugged slightly on one of her long pigtails. “You know, Miss Jenny, when I came here a few days ago, I was wearing a gun.”
She swallowed and nodded.
“Do you think I’d ever hurt you?”
There wasn’t a second of hesitation before she shook her head. Colt folded her into his side again. “I promise, Miss Jenny, so long as I’m here, no one will hurt you or Saul or Amy. I swear that to you.”
Her thin arms tightened around his waist and Colt’s throat clenched. He sat with her for a long moment, the weight of her head against his ribs filling him with a protectiveness he hadn’t felt in a long time. He slipped her long braid through his fingers. “You know what, Jenny?”
She shook her head against his side, her tiny hand catching his in the sling. Her fingers tightened around his palm.
“A man could get real used to living in a place like this with a couple of kids like you and Saul. That used to be something I dreamed of having…a couple of great kids, a beautiful wife like your sister, a small ranch with a few head of cattle. I used to dream about it so much, I had the floor plan for the house all laid out in my head. I could almost feel the sun on me as I watched it sinking behind a mountain range in those dreams.”
Jenny pushed back from him, and her brows lifted in silent query.
“I don’t know what happened to those dreams.” He smiled and brushed the last of her tears from her cheeks. “I guess, somewhere along the line, I realized someone like me will never be able to settle down and have those dreams come true.”
She shook her head.
“No, what? No, I’ll never be able to settle down…”
She shook her head again. The blue ribbons in her hair danced and shimmered in the lantern light. Rain falling from the roof pattered to the ground in a soothing rhythm. The horses shuffled in the stalls and the cows contentedly munched hay.
“I should see to making those dreams come true.” Here, he silently added. She bobbed her head and a smile darted over her tear-streaked face.
“Wish I could, Jenny.” Colt eased a deep breath in. He dropped his head to the wall behind him. “But that gun I wore isn’t going to let me.”
REVIEWS:
"The Devil's Own Desperado by Lynda Cox is the fastest read that had me lost in an entire weekend. To say Cox knows how to write historical western romance is an understatement. I found the dialogue exceptional, the way she described every scene vivid and I must applaud Ms. Cox for creating such a western classic." Rites of Romance Romance Reviews (http://rorreviews.wordpress.com/2013/02/05/the-devils-own-desperado/)
"It is a sweet romance..." Night Owl Romance (http://romance.nightowlreviews.com/v5/reviews/barb-reviews-the-devils-own-desperado-by-lynda-j-cox)
BOOK BLURB:
He's everything she fears...
Wounded gunfighter Colt Evans stumbles onto a remote homestead never expecting to find compassion. But beautiful Amelia McCollister is like no other woman. Suddenly, his dream of settling down with a wife and home is within reach--but only if his past never comes gunning for him.
She's everything he dreams of...
Amelia had to grow up fast after outlaws murdered her parents, leaving her to raise her siblings alone. With a young brother who idolizes shootists, she dreads having a notorious gunman in her home. But as Colt slowly recovers, he reveals a caring nature under his tough exterior that Amelia can't resist.
Just when Colt starts to believe he can leave the gunfighter life behind, his past returns, bringing danger to them all. Can a shootist ever hang up his hardware? Or will their dreams disappear in the smoke of a desperado's gun?
EXCERPT:
She cleared the plates from the table. “I’ll start some water heating for your shave, Mr.—”
“Colt. My name is Colt,” he interrupted.
She froze for a moment near the stove. “I would feel very forward to address you by your given name, Mr. Evans.”
His laughter boomed through the room. Amelia whirled. His head was tilted back and the strong cording of his throat stood out in relief. “Amelia, you didn’t have a problem taking care of me while I was unconscious and naked as the day I was born, but you think it would be forward to use my given name. There is something that doesn’t add up there.”
She twisted her apron between her hands, staring at the floor. A moment later, Colt caught her chin in his palm and tilted her head to him. She hadn’t heard him cross the floor. Her breath caught in a mingling of fear and some nameless anticipation.
“My name is Colt. Try it, Amelia. Colt.”
Amelia’s skin burned with the light touch of his fingers and her heart hammered against her breastbone. She wet her parched lips.
“It’s a simple name, really. Four little letters. Colt.”
Her throat was frozen. She was falling into the depths of his gray eyes. The pad of his thumb brushed along her lower lip. The butterflies returned to her stomach and that curious ache renewed. She shook her head, freeing herself of his gentle hold. She staggered a step away and broke the spell.
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ABOUT LYNDA J. COX:
Lynda J. Cox will tell anyone who will listen that she was born at least one hundred and fifty years too late, and most definitely in the wrong part of the country. Her heart has always belonged to cowboys, the wide open spaces, horses, and Lassie. She grew up on a steady diet of cowboy movies, syndicated Westerns, and Lassie. All of those influences play a role in her life now. She writes western historical romance and raises and shows collies. She holds a master’s degree in English with a concentration in creative writing from Indiana State University after earning her BA from the same university as a non-traditional student. (Think being old enough to be mom to 90% of the students in her freshman cadre.) She’s kept busy with two spoiled rotten house cats, a 30 plus year old Arabian gelding who has been nicknamed “Lazarus” for his ability in the later years of his life to escape death, and quite a few champion collies. When she isn’t writing, she can be found on the road, travelling to the next dog show. She loves to chat about books, the writing life, and the insanity which is called a “dog show” and can be reached through her Facebook page at www.facebook.com/LyndaJCox.
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