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I’m very pleased to have the hero of Sandy Sullivan’s latest book,[amazon_link id=”B00BL9QCU6″ target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ] Trouble With A Cowboy[/amazon_link] stop by today.  Tucker Marshall had me enraptured by his Wranglers…I mean, um…ah, hell. Just read up.

Hi Sarah. It’s nice to be here on your blog.

1.  Tell us a little about yourself. How did you come to your author’s attention? Occupation?

Let’s see. I own a large ranch outside of Amarillo Texas and I raise Bucking Bulls for the PBR and several rodeos all over the country. I do a lot of traveling but I got stuck in a little town in Oklahoma with one of my bulls on the way to National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas.

2.  What or who is the greatest love of your life? Why? What drew you to them?

The greatest love of my life is raising bulls and Jacie. What drew me to raising bulls was the thrill of watching them compete in professional bullriding just like the riders do. They get points and compete with the other bulls on the circuit for Bull of the Year. My bull Lightning Strike is up this year with a 98% bulloff rate.

Jacie is the most important life in my life these days.

3.  What’s your greatest fear?

Losing my ranch. I grew up kind of poor and there wasn’t a lot to eat some days. I wouldn’t know what to do if I didn’t have my ranch.

4.  What’s your motto in life?

Live life to the fullest.

5.  How do the other characters in your book view you?

The guys don’t like me because I’m with Jacie now. Several have the hots for her or are protective of her and they think I’m going to hurt her. I wouldn’t hurt her for the world. She means everything to me.

6. What do you prefer? To spread & hear gossip, or be the creator of gossip fodder?

I don’t do gossip. If I hear something I try to ignore it and move on. Gossip isn’t good and usually leads to someone getting hurt.

7.  What is it about you that is going to draw us readers in?

*evil grin* I look good in a pair of Wranglers?

8.  What was your happiest moment?

Probably the day I paid off my parents’ house at least so far.

9.  What trait in others do you find most deplorable?

Lying. I hate liars.

10. The random question: If you were a color, what color would you be and why?

Definitely blue. I try to never lose my temper and be cool, calm and collected mostly of the time. Of course, Jacie gets my pretty fired up sometimes.

*~*~*~*

18 wheels had her heart until one hard-up cowboy found her kickin’ up her heels and propositions her to take his bull to Vegas.

Jacie Hawkins drives big wheelers for a livin’. Something not a lot of women do. Littleton Oklahoma is just a dry stopover for a few hours of rest and relaxation at the nearest bar. Jacie needs to find a hot cowboy to release some of her pent up frustrations on for the night, but wannabe’s aren’t her style.

Tucker Marshall needs a big-rig driver to haul his prize bull to National Finals Rodeo and he needs one fast. Who would have thought he’d find one shootin’ pool at the local bar dressed to kill and takin’ numbers?

Can some slashed tires and an ornery bull bring two hard-headed people together for some fun in the sun and a little more?

Buy link

http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&cPath=4&products_id=533

Excerpt

Lean hips and a bull rider belt buckle blocked her view of the multitude of cowboy boots standing nearby. Her gaze crawled up a flat, chiseled abdomen, across sculpted muscles, over a firm jaw to meet sexy brown eyes.

“What’s the frown for, pretty lady?”

She tipped the bottle to her lips to take a long drink, keeping her eyes on the gorgeous man in front of her.

Once she’d swallowed, she said, “Contemplation.”

“Huh?”

Great. Probably barely made his way through high school.

“I was trying to figure out how many of them,” she nodded to the crowd twirling on the dance floor, “are real.”

“Real?”

“Real cowboys or just wannabes.”

Brown eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled as he hooked his fingers behind his belt buckle and tilted the shiny metal up. “Mine’s real, sweet thing.”

“Is it? Where did you win it?”

“National Finals Rodeo last year. Bull ridin’.”

“Is that right?” She took another sip of her beer.

“Yeah.” The cowboy pulled his shoulders back proudly.

“You know, that’s funny. I rode last year. I sure don’t remember you. What did you say your name was?”

The man frowned as a trickle of sweat appeared over his lip. “Kyle Fredrick.”

“Kyle…” She tipped the bottle to her lips again. “Mmm…nope. I sure don’t remember you. You know what else?”

His eyes narrowed as he shifted from foot to foot. “What.”

“I have an official belt buckle in barrel racing.” She tapped the buckle at her waist with her fingernail, and then pointed toward his. “That’s about the worst fake I’ve ever seen. The real one, honey, is gold with World Champion Bull Rider on the bottom and your name engraved just above that.” She stood in front of him so they stood toe-to-toe. “That trinket might work on one of those rhinestone babes out there, but it won’t work on me. I know the real thing when I see it.”

When the music changed, bathing the bar in silence for a moment, she heard a soft chuckle to her left. Tipping her head, she locked gazes with the guy two stools down. He lifted an eyebrow and tipped his hat as a crooked, half-smile graced his mouth, showing off pearly-white teeth with a dimple in his left cheek. Before she got a good look at the color of his eyes, the cowboy in front of her pulled her attention back to him.

“You’re a bitch.”

“I’ve been called that before. You’ll have to come up with something more original…Kyle.”

With a pissed-off growl, Kyle spun on his heel, disappearing into the crowd farther down the bar. Jacie took her seat again, propping her boot heels on the rung of the chair and tipped the bottle to her lips. Beer slid down her throat in a cool wash of satisfaction.

Moments later, two-stools down cowboy moved one stool closer when the man next to her headed for the door.

Elbows balanced on the bar behind her as the bottle dangled from her fingers, she glanced sideways and her gaze met the prettiest baby blues she’d ever seen. One sweep from the top of his black Stetson and dark hair, over his broad chest and down his yummy torso, told her a lot. A working man. Dusty cowboy boots peeked out from the hem of his jeans.

“Hi,” he offered.

“Hi, yourself.”

“Name’s Tucker.” He held out his hand.

She stared at his palm. Calluses. Working hands. Short nails. Clean.

Grasping his hand in hers, she wasn’t prepared for the zing of electricity pricking her skin where they touched.

“Jacie.”

“Nice to meet you, Jacie.”

“You, too Tucker.”

“Sorry about that guy.”

“Why? Is he a friend of yours?”

A short snort left his mouth. “Not in this lifetime. I’m only hopin’ you don’t judge the whole lot by him.”

“Nah.” She smiled and lifted the bottle to her lips again, draining the remaining beer. “He’s nothing new. I’m used to his type.”

“What type is that?”

“The lay ’em and leave ’em kind. Once he gets between a woman’s thighs, he’s gone.”

The chuckle returned. “Probably right on the money.”

“Occasionally, that’s not a bad thing, but tonight…not necessarily what I’m looking for.”

He leaned closer as the music started again. The spicy, almost citrusy scent of his cologne and virile male mixed with…cattle, reached her nose. Interesting.

“Can I buy you another beer?” he asked, his breath rushing over the shell of her ear.

One shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Sure.”

Signaling for the bartender, he stood to pull some money from his front pocket, bringing his chest into close proximity with her shoulder. The heat radiating off his skin sent shivers skittering across her arm, and she fought the urge to rub the flesh to calm the goose bumps.

His tanned hand held a bottle out in front of her.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He sipped from his beer, but when he lowered the bottle his eyes found hers again. “What are you doing in Littleton, Oklahoma?”

“Hanging out with you.”

“Yeah, right. A babe like you doesn’t hang out in small town honky-tonks.”

She flinched at his comment as she dropped her gaze to the front of his shirt. “Just passin’ through.”

“I see. Mysterious. Works for me.” He set his beer on the bar behind her. “Care to dance?”

Do I really want those hands on me? Hell yeah!

“Sure.” She set her bottle next to his before they headed for the dance floor.

The song changed to a slow ballad causing her to cringe. Slow dancing with this gorgeous, rugged cowboy could send her right between the sheets with him in a heartbeat. Good or bad, she wasn’t sure he would be the type to easily walk away from. When she turned, she sucked in a ragged breath before she slipped her hands up around his neck. He settled his palms on her hips. Her heartbeat hitched up a notch and her fingertips itched to run along the solid ridges of his pecs—ridges that came from hard work, not a gym.

*~*

Sandy Sullivan is a romance author, who, when not writing, spends her time with her
husband Shaun on their farm in middle Tennessee. She loves to ride her horses, play
with their dogs and relax on the porch, enjoying the rolling hills of her home south of
Nashville. Country music is a passion of hers and she loves to listen to it while she writes.

She is an avid reader of romance novels and enjoys reading Nora Roberts, Jude Deveraux
and Susan Wiggs. Finding new authors and delving into something different helps feed
the need for literature. A registered nurse by education, she loves to help people and
spread the enjoyment of romance to those around her with her novels. She loves cowboys
so you’ll find many of her novels have sexy men in tight jeans and cowboy boots.