Sunday, December 9, 2012

Bax and Jason short

“Goddamn it, Mini! Are you trying to kill yourself?” Bax was about to boil over. Jason had been out there with an axe, trying to trim branches off their Christmas tree.

“No. If I was doin’ that, I’d be whacking at my legs and shit.” Jason’s eyes rolled, searching for him. “I didn’t hit an artery, did I?”

“No. No, but you were headin’ that way.” Bax took the axe, glad Mini didn’t make him wrestle for it.

“I was helping.” Oh, there was pouting involved now, full-on. Shit, marthy, that was cute as fuck.

Bax manfully fought the urge to kiss that lower lip where it stuck out. “How did you even find the axe, Mini?”

“It was in the toolshed.”

“So, what, you wandered around calling for it?"

“Nope. I wandered around feeling for it.” Jase just grinned like a monkey. “I moved the rakes.”

“Good to know. I ain’t blind, but I might just kill myself on them.”

“Don’t be pissy, Bax. This is the only way I’ll get to see the tree this year. Once the glass shit is on it, no one will want me touching it.”

Well, shit. He’d not thought of that. He had a bunch of stuff of his momma’s, and Brenda had sent a box for Jason...

“We could hang the glass stuff off the garland on the big wall. Do the tree up in stuff for you.”

Jason shrugged, cheeks pinking. “I don’t want to be no problem.”

“Why would it be a problem? This is our place, not your momma’s or mine.”

“It’d make things a little easier, to not have to worry about knocking into the tree.”

“Well, then, we’ll do that.” He forgot, sometimes, that Mini couldn’t see. Jase got around so much easier every day. It sucked, not to see the twinkly lights and pretty wrapping paper and all.

“Okay.” Jason sighed. “How ‘m I supposed to buy you a present, cowboy?”

“You think I need anything? Hell, tell Missy to take you to buy me new Wranglers.” He hooked an arm around Jason’s waist, hating that defeated fucking look, hating God and the job and the world with all his soul, for mucking up the man he loved. “You know my size. Intimately.”

“I know all about you.” That grin went all goofy and Andy knew he’d gone and done something good and that loosened up that acid in his heart. “Intimately.”

“There you go. All I want for Christmas I got.”

It wasn’t true. He wanted Jason’s sight back. Now, but both of them knew it, so neither of them said it.

Weren’t neither of them young enough to believe in Santa and shit. They just had to believe in each other.

That was enough.

What She Wants is Out!


Calleigh and Adrian have always had an open marriage. Adrian being on the road all the time has made it easy for them to have separate lives, but neither of them acted on their agreement to see other people until Adrian met fellow Aussie and force of nature, Packer Stevens.

Now Packer and Adrian are always together, and Calleigh is left at home, missing her man. When Calleigh decides she’s not going to let Adrian go without a fight, she comes up with what she thinks is the perfect plan. She hits the spa, and the gym, and sets out to find her inner buckle bunny, intent on getting her bullrider back, and maybe on impressing Packer a little, too. She heads out on the road, ready to fight for her husband.

What Calleigh doesn’t understand is that her plan will be wildly successful, and also the hardest thing she’s ever done in her life. Packer is more than willing to play, but he’s as complicated as Calleigh is emotional. As much as he loves Calleigh and Packer, and the sexy games they play, Adrian has to try  to set things right, but can he find a way to give Calleigh what she wants, and make everyone else happy at the same time?

Monday, December 3, 2012

Writing Contemporary Western Menage, or why it took my 3 years to write What She Wants...


Julia dared me, a few years ago now, to write a western contemporary menage that made sense to her. 

Now, I'm a fan of menage books -- in fact, I read them sort of voraciously. I love the werewolves, the were kitties, the contemporaries. I've got a huge collection and I enjoy them. 

Julia, though, the western contemporaries bothered her. 

"I want one that I buy, baby," she told me. "I want one where I can go, okay, yeah. Those two cowboys would share each other and some incredibly patient girl. I want you to write it for me."

I know a lot of cowboys. Rednecks? Rednecks play fast and loose with the rules, but cowboys are harder, cowboys have a code, rules. Y'all, I actually discussed this with my daddy and my brother. OMG, the awkward.

Finally, though, I did it and once the thought was out there? Let me tell you, Adrian and Packer were happy to oblige, and Calleigh? Well, this woman knows her own mind, that's for sure...

So, I got the concept pretty quick. What if there was this couple in an open relationship and the wife decided she was tired of waiting for her husband to come home to her? What if she wanted to play with him and his 'traveling partner', too.


So I wrote.

And wrote.

And wrote.

And about 10K from the end, the file corrupted.

The backup corrupted. 

I ended up with the first, oh, 8,000 words recoverable?

So, Calleigh and the Aussies went in a box while I licked my writerly wounds. And lord, I did. God help you if you asked me where they were, how they were doing, because I'd just burst into tears.

Then one day I thought about them and didn't cry.

That's the day they went on the writing board.

What's the writing board, you ask? 

It's the whiteboard in the office where Julia and I pretend to keep track of things. (What She Wants isn't on this one because it was in editing already. For the record, (looks at the current board) it doesn't look like this anymore...the ink story is done, Julia's current square has stuff in it and my NEEDED square is, like, totally got 6 projects in it... O.o

IMG 0887

It lingered for a few months, then I opened the file.


Closed it, BUT I started talking about Adrian and Packer. Julia played along, encouraged me, then Calleigh started poking and, 70,000 words later, they're real.


Also, Julia dubbed them incredibly hot, so yay. :D

Okay, so, that was the story of how Julia asked for a western contemporary menage and how it almost didn't happen.

Much love, y'all,


Friday, October 26, 2012

My Top Ten Favorite Bullriding Moments

10. Watching Flint Rasmussen throw a rope at a bull and have the loop catch. 

9. Sitting with all the Brazilian wives at the Albuquerque event and learning to curse in Portguese

8. Lake Wise County. *grins* We were at JW Hart's event in Decatur during the worst storm east Texas had ever seen. The bullfighters were in water up to their waists.

7. When Chris Shivers bucked off into the chutes and Mike White jumped in to cover him. 

6. My first real Greg Potter hug. *sparkles*

5. Shorty Gorham looking at my "Here for the Bullfighters" t-shirt, then looking at Flint and saying, "Note it doesn't say here for the clown."

4. Guilherme Marchi winning his championship in 2008.

3. Having Adriano Moraes admire my tattoos and tell me that inked women were hot. 

2. Justin McBride hanging off the side of Camo during the 2005 PBR World Finals.

1. Watching Rob Smets fight bulls. Ever.

Bonus: Asking the pick-up man, James Debord for his autograph and having him beam at me.

100 2985

Friday, August 31, 2012

Excerpt from What She Wants (m/m/f)

So, Calleigh, Packer and Adrian's story is on the home stretch. Finally.

Why do I say finally? Well, I had a catastrophic computer problem and lost 30K of them. 30K. As in all but about 10K of the opening and 2K of where I'd been. 

I sat and sobbed for about an hour, then I shut the file. It took almost a year before my heart was healed enough to open it up and start again. 

Now, the end is in sight, the book is on the production calendar (November) :D, and I can finish up rewrites on the first Four Horsemen book and start Tag Team. 


I am happy to report, though, that What She Wants is blisteringly hot, fun, and Roughstock's first m/m/f.

Here's a wee snippet -- it hasn't been proofed or edited or any of those fun things, but I hope you enjoy it. :D


The music was blaring and Calleigh was dancing with a couple of the new Aussie riders, waiting for hers to clean up, come down.

One of the boys was blond and pretty and knew it, flirting hard, shaking his ass.

Aussies just took good care of her. She grinned. She couldn’t wait to see her boys.

“Oi, mate. I don’t think so.” Packer came from behind her, pulling her back against his chest. “Dancing is all well and good. That crosses the line.”

Oh, God. That was hot. “Pack.” She couldn’t stop her wiggle, her smile.

“Hello, love. You ready to really get your dance on?” Adrian had always loved to dance with her, but Packer’s ease with it surprised her every time.

“You know it.” She turned, hands sliding around Packer’s shoulders. “You smell so good.”

“So do you.” He sniffed her neck. “Though I need to rub on you a bit, get rid of the Old Spice.”

“I like it.” Her chin lifted, her breasts sliding on his chest.

“Mmmhmm. I don’t wear it, though. Chook does, and you weren’t dancing with him.” Packer bent and nibbled on her neck.

“Oh... Naughty, naughty.” She wanted and they’d promised her that she’d have tonight.

“Can’t help it, love. You bring it out in me.”

“That’s not all I want to bring out in you, Pack.”

“Aren’t you married to another bullrider?” The voice was snide, and she stiffened, pulled away from Pack. Damn it.

Pack frowned at the little girl, what was her name? The one who was always so awful about Adrian. “He’s about. What do you want, girlie?”

“Just wondering why you’re wasting your time on someone taken when there’s younger, available girls around.”

Buckle bunnies were bitches.

“Well you just put your noggin on that one, shiela.” Packer put an arm around her waist, pulling her away.

She giggled softly. “That was nicely put, honey.”

“Thanks, love. Look who missed the whole show.”

Adrian came up, a drink in each hand, one in the crook of his elbow. “What?”

“Pack was defending my honor.” She took her margarita. “Thank you.”

Adrian frowned. “From who?” He looked ready to throw down. So cute.

“Some asshole girl. You’ll get her telling you I’m cheating. Watch out.” She rolled her eyes.

“Ah.” His expression cleared. “Good thing we have this whole Packer thing.”

“Absolutely.” She leaned over and gave Adrian a long, lazy hello kiss, and Adrian moaned for her, his hands sliding down to touch her ass. He squeezed, making her gasp. “Gonna make me spill my drink, Ades.”

“Oh, now, chook. Don’t get her all wet.”

Adrian laughed, the sound pure wickedness. “But that’s a good thing, mate.”

(copyright 2012 BA Tortuga)



I hope y'all have a wonderful holiday weekend. I'm getting ready for one of my sisters to visit and taking care of my girl and her poor foot. 

Much love.


Monday, July 16, 2012

Coke and Dillon Short Now Available!!! :D

clear cut

About The New Guy

by BA Tortuga
17 pages / 4000 words

Buy link:

Roughstock bullfighter Coke is training new alternate Sterling, and he thinks the kid is good at his job. Dillon thinks Sterling is far too interested in Coke, and not in a boss and employee sort of way. Can Coke convince Dillon that a clown is all he needs.


Coke looked at the baby bullfighter who was jogging the arena. Had he ever been that young? He didn't think so.

Sterling Matthews was hungry, young, eager, and, unlike that Mike guy, willing to take directions. Which was why Sterling was in the ring as the second alternate and not that smart-assed little fuck.

"Mr. Pharris?" Sterling called. "What time do you want us back here? I need to grab some grub."

"Event starts at seven. You be back by five thirty."

"Four-thirty if I bring barbecue?"

Coke chuckled. "Bring lots. The smell will travel."

"Yessir." The kid grinned like to split his face and headed out.

His back-up bullfighter Nattie looked over at him, chuckled. "Hoss, was we ever that young?"

"No, sir. Not you and me. Coop, neither. Fred? Fuck, yeah." He stretched, thinking how the Aussie bullfighter Fred was still that young. "You want to go play some cards in the back?"

Dillon was doing some charity, hand-shaking, butt-shaking thing and had his truck.

"Hell, yeah. 'Specially since the kid is bringing food."

"Cool." They headed to the dressing room. Jerome was sleeping in Nattie's go-bag, Pansy was gnawing on a chew, her tail wagging.

"That's unnatural, Hoss. What does he have against my unders?" Nattie asked, eyeing Jerome's long basset hound body.

"He loves you. Blame Dillon. He named the pup."

"Uh-huh." Nate folded his lanky frame down on a camp chair and cracked open a bottle of water. "What do you think of the new kid? Aside from he's young."
Coke dug out a deck of cards. "He's hungry for it. I like that."

"I just hope it don't make him take on too much. He's got to let the other guys on the team take some of them. We'll see."

He tugged over a chair to deal on. "That's how it is, at the beginning, at least until his first bad wreck."

They all handled that different.

"Then you see how they come back out and work the next one."

"You know it." Coke grinned at Nate. "What are we playing, Nattie?"

"Gin? We ain't got enough folks for poker."

"Deal me in if it's poker." Dillon came bebpopping in, reaching down to scratch basset ears.

"Poker it is." He grinned at his cowboy. "How'd your... thing go?"

Dillon struck a pose. "You mean my meet and greet with my adoring fans? Good. There was only one chicken incident.