I knew right off what I wanted to talk about too. Cowboys. Oh ya. Aren’t theyjust the most delectable form of the male species? They have been a mainstay in the romance writing worldfor a long time. Westerns cast their magical spell and tempt us to be swept up by our hard ridin’, hard lovin’ cowboy and gallop off into the sunset with him. I imagined myself as the heroine many times with my oh so sexy cowboy, endless nights of pleasure under the stars with him or riding beside my man outwitting the bad guys. But he’s only been in my imagination all these years, never really knowing a true cowboy. Until now.
We’ve heard of singing cowboys, rodeo cowboys, rhinestone cowboys, but have you ever heard of a romance writing cowboy? I have and his name is Reid L. Rosenthal. Yep, a true to life, in the flesh, cowboy hat wearing, rodeo, bull ridin’, fourth generation land and cattle owner, oh did I mention a working cowboy. And he writes romance! Could it get any better than that? And he’s pretty darn sexy to boot too!
It’s very hard to find time for reading these days. Something I miss terribly, so I packed a book and took it on holiday. When I opened it and began the story, I was swept away with the characters and their trials. This book is intricately woven in character and plot, the name suites it perfectly Threads West, An American Saga. Reid brings to life the characters and makes you like, feel sorry and even dislike them. A great accomplishment. You’ll begin your trip in the year 1855, in the Rocky Mountains then hop across the pond to travel from Europe, to the British Isles, cross the sea by ship back to America where it lands in New York and begins to sew all thethreads into the fabric of the characters lives. The author drops numerous clues andforeshadowing that like a bread crumb trail, will hint and what’s to come, an arduous trip by wagon train west. This book left me wanting more. It’s not an erotica (although I have heard a rumour he wants to write one *claps hands*), but an historical romance of passion, people and the land, which without the intertwining there would be no story. The author’s passion comes through in the book and I anxiously await with tapping toe for book two, Maps of Fate ,which I know he’s busy working on with four more planned to complete the saga, bringing the story to present time.
I love that he isn’t shy about romance, love, passion and isn’t that an odd thing, being a man. It’s refreshingly welcome. And did I say he’s a real cowboy? Oh, ya, I think I did. I do love a cowboy, sigh.
The following is an excerpt from Maps of Fate, book two. How did I get a book two excerpt? ...connections.
She felt the fire in the smooth caress of his fingertips as they traced across her breast, lingered on her erect and pulsing nipple, then continued down her hips and came to rest lightly, longingly, on the concave valley of smooth belly between her hips. The smell of him, and of them, mingled with the fragrance of sun-baked sage.
Her heart pounded, a strange tingling heat permeated her loins, and she could feel the blush in her face. This was a feeling she’d never known, could never imagine, could barely absorb on so many levels. She swept a soft palm over the cords of muscle in his arm. She was consumed by a desperate wanting, a deep primal need that overrode her butterfly fear of the unknown. She gasped, her hips writhing involuntarily as he lowered himself gently onto her. A momentary stab of pain was followed by overwhelming pleasure cum laude which enveloped her being as he slowly, carefully, began to sink into her.
She groaned, a muffled cry equally grounded in passion, trepidation, and longing. He stopped, tenderly brushed a calloused thumb slowly across her forehead and down her cheek and looked deep into her eyes, “Am I hurting you?”
She felt tears well in the corners of her eyes, bit her lip and shook her head, her full answer to him in the ever-tighter wrap of her arms around his shoulders, the increasing bend of her knees, and the firm plant of her heels against the muscular flesh of his buttocks, drawing him in.
“Don’t stop,” she moaned, “Oh God, please don’t stop.”
Well, then. Okay J So go on out and get yourself a copy! I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.
“If your mind and spirit are seduced by images of windswept ridge tops, flutters of aspen leaves caressed by a canyon breeze, and the crimson tendrils of dying sun…if your fingers feel the silken pulse of a lover and your lips taste the deep kisses of building passion…if nostrils flare with the conjured scents of gunpowder and perfume, sage brush and pine, and your ears delight in the murmur of river current…if your heart pounds at the clash of good and evil and with each twist and turn of interwoven lives you feel a primal throb, then I have accomplished my mission.”
~ Reid L. Rosenthal, author of Threads West, An American Saga.
President Passionate Ink
Being Ariana - August 2011
No Fantasy Required - available now