Cowboy Western Books 소설 & 이야기

They didn't plan on taking anything to chance. When he entered the small living room, Colton sat at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in front of him as he sat there reading a book about as thick as Ezra's wrist. Ezra smiled as he made his way over to the coffeepot. Colton always was a heavy reader. "What is it this time? Life of George Washington? The history of automobiles? The philosophy of Bugs Bunny?" He reached up into a cabinet, pulling out the first mug he saw, and filled it with coffee.

“The tattoo biz is dead and my sister is running the store. So I thought to myself, I wonder what my big, sexy cowboy is doing.” Her footsteps echoed as loud as the sudden thumping of his heart. “Since I’m not busy, I thought I’d come out and see if I can help you. I even have my cowgirl boots on.” Colt turned around so fast he almost got whiplash. Holy hell. Cowgirl boots were the only thing India had on. The shovel in his hand clanked to the concrete floor. “Sadly, I don’t own any other western wear.” “I’m not complaining.” Colt’s gaze slowly tracked her sexy body, from the pointed tips of her red nipples to the pointed toes of her red boots. His cock hardened. His mouth watered. “But I’m

My heart beats fast, and I feel a wetness between my legs that I can’t ignore. One gray afternoon, it was pouring rain outside. The library was dead empty. No one to bother me. I locked the front door early and turned the sign to closed. My hands were sweaty as I picked out my four favorite books from the back shelf. There was the pirate story with Captain Thorne, a tough guy who sails the seas and takes what he wants. Then the vampire book with Lord Draven, all dark and mysterious, with eyes that pull you in. Next, the cowboy tale with Buck, rough and ready from the wild west. And finally, the barbarian adventure with Garrick, a big brute who fights with his hands and conquers everything. E

“Get word to the Western front. Tell them to fortify, now, if this is a distraction, we’re already a step behind. The young wolf nodded and vanished into the fray. Richard looked back at the battlefield, breath fogging the frozen air. The night wasn’t over, but now, he knew the truth. This wasn’t a war tactic. It was an assassination attempt. *** By dawn, the scent of blood had already begun to taint the winds in the West. Unlike the North, where snowfall softened the horror, the western skies were cloudless and cruel, painted with fire. The attack came, not as a siege, but as culling. The settlements along the edge of the western valley were the first to fall. Half-bloods emerged from the p

A vigilante of justice. Robin Hood… “And the books?” she asked. “How do they play into that?” He lifted a single shoulder in a half shrug as though the answer was inconsequential. But to her, it wasn’t, because it was yet another piece in figuring out this complex cowboy. “I started collecting them a few years ago when surviving no longer was a day-to-day struggle.” Around the same time the Grey Wolves had first started to hear whispers of his name. He’d amassed power and influence in their world so quickly it had nearly made Maverick’s head spin. She’d eavesdropped over the stories among the Grey Wolves’ elite alphas with eager interest.

He had to admit this place wasn't as bad as he'd expected. He let his gaze wander around the shop, taking in things he hadn't really noticed yesterday. The artwork on the walls, for instance. Yesterday, they had been blurs of color. Today, he realized they were great examples of contemporary Western art. The style was very distinctive and arresting. Someone had lovingly painted a magnificent stallion, a small herd of horses galloping across a pasture, a tired cowboy at the end of a long day, and other similar scenes. Whoever this was might have come from Montana like he had, because the essence of the cowboy had been captured perfectly.

The two of them naked and cuddled together, their bodies close and warm while the cool night air stirred their hair around their faces, and the distant howl of the coyotes made music to the moon. Stop it, Emma Louise, she mentally told herself in her mother's voice. That was the last thing she needed, to start thinking about the cowboy. But how could she not, with him right there in front of her? She had to get her mind off him. Carefully, not wanting to wake Mrs. Avery, she rummaged in her valise for the copy of Harper's Bazaar she'd brought. She knew that frontier women coveted the eastern periodicals, which were sometimes their only way of keeping up on current fashions. That was why so m

He even liked it that she lived above the saloon, since it meant a game was handy if he felt like playing. Since the Hat Creek outfit had been gathering cattle and getting ready for their drive, games were handier than they had been for a while. Several cowboys drifted into Lonesome Dove, looking for work; some of them had enough snap left at night to wander in and cut the cards. A tall cowboy named Needle Nelson showed up from north of San Antonio, and a cheerful cowboy from Brownsville named Bert Borum. At first Xavier was cheered by all the new customers, until it occurred to him that they would only be there for a week or

I could feel his eyes on me the entire time. If Cindy noticed, she said nothing as she chatted away about things girls chatted about; minus the boys. I quickly learned that we not only both enjoyed horseback riding, but we had similar taste in books, television, and movies. By the time we’d reached the end of the trail, I was over my embarrassment and feeling like I had a new bestie.

"Just imagine the scene. Me, walking down the steps of a saloon. A fantastic specimen of an Alpha male leaning against a fence as the setting sun illuminates his golden, sweaty skin..." "Oh yeah, sweaty," I reply, wrinkling my nose. "Shh! Don't spoil my fantasy! I'm into it right now," she immediately cuts me off, raising a hand in the air. "So, I was saying, a cowboy, preferably shirtless." "Obviously shirtless," I repeat. "Obviously," she repeats, shaking her head. "Thick black hair, green eyes... jeans hanging dangerously low on his hips." "Aaaaah," I say, opening my mouth wide. "Because of all the cowboys in the West, you're bound to run into the one who doesn't wear a shirt or a belt!"