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I hope someday to write more cowboy stories set around the Palo Duro Canyon. If you’ve never been, it’s the second largest canyon in the U.S., and you can’t miss an amazing good time—cowboys and one big natural phenomenon.
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Tough and rough, tall and dark, these are men a woman never forgets. Experience pleasure like no other in the arms of a cowboy…
Mustang Man by Vonna Harper
Acclaimed horse trainer Miguel Perez is used to the unexpected from his work with wild mustangs. But nothing prepares him for the bolt of desire he feels when he meets Dawn Glass, as he’s eager to work his sexual healing on her in every possible way.
Long Hard Ride by Melissa MacNeal
Rodeo rider Michael White House is grateful when Diana Grant stops to pick him up in the middle of a rainstorm. But with one touch his gratitude quickly turns to lust and an uncontrollable desire to lay her down and ride her hard all night long. “Hot Blooded” – Rancher Adam Youngblood is always happy to help a damsel in distress. But before he’ll pull the sweetly curvaceous and fiercely independent Cass McIntyre to safety, he demands promises of unconditional sexual surrender.
Hot Blooded by Delilah Devlin
Rancher Adam Youngblood is always happy to help a damsel in distress. But before he’ll pull the sweetly curvaceous and fiercely independent Cass McIntyre to safety, he demands promises of unconditional sexual surrender…
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When the first small drops began to fall, Cass McIntyre welcomed the light shower the forecasters had predicted. Already halfway up the route she’d chosen, she’d worked up a nice sweat.
The rain quickly cooled her skin, which was caked in a thick, itchy layer of canyon dirt and chalk. The lazy breeze accompanying the rain fanned the burning cuts on her bare legs and arms, giving her a mental boost of energy.
After another fifteen feet into her ascent—chilled and achy now and getting a little impatient with the worsening conditions—she found a narrow ledge. She unhooked her biner from the rope, and decided to wait out the cloudburst, a rare occurrence in the Panhandle and extremely deadly because the rock face she climbed had become as slippery as mud.
She took small comfort in the phrase she’d heard over and over since she’d first moved to Canyon, Texas that ran like a mantra through her head. If you don’t like the weather, wait a minute.
Her mistake had been believing that piece of homespun advice.
Not that she was anything more than mildly annoyed at this point. The awe-inspiring view from her perch above the canyon floor placated her restless nature and soothed the deep ache in her chest that had choked her at the start of the climb.
Low-hanging clouds obscured the sunlight and provided an unexpected cooling to a hot spring day. Soft, gray mist filled the Palo Duro Canyon, softening the light and air, the moisture causing a burst of brilliant color to erupt from the fading wildflowers carpeting the rough terrain—bright orange from Mexican hat and Indian blanket, and a cheery yellow daisy-like flower whose name escaped her at the moment.
Determined to salvage some enjoyment from her adventure, she settled on the ledge, dangling her legs over the side, and ignored the water soaking through her thin tee and shorts.
Half an hour into the storm that had grown steadily more insistent, she kissed off making the summit and planned a quick rappel to the distant hollow below.
However, as she unwound her long rope from the straps of her backpack for a hasty descent, her narrow perch disintegrated. Rock made fragile by the water splintered into rough shards and gravel that tumbled down the sheer precipice.
Cass dropped the rope and jammed her hand into a crevice in the rock to anchor herself while she reached beside her for her pack. But she was too late.
More of the ledge crumbled. The backpack slid away, leaving her stranded with only the shorter rope she’d used between cams—not nearly long enough to attempt a descent.
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