'Tis the season for... A matchmaking grandma on a long-disantance mission Mistletoe temptation in every doorway A sexy cowboy with a killer smile
When Gran Presely agrees to sell Creed Riley the Rockin' C Ranch for a song at Christmastime, he can hardly believe his good fortune. There's just one little catch-her tantalizing granddaughter Sage is part of the deal...
Praise for Darn Good Cowboy Christmas
"A story with a cowboy always hits the target, but add a little Christmas flair and a saucy heroine and you have a winner."--Long and Short Reviews
"This fast-paced holiday romp brims with music, laughter...and plenty of Texas flavor."--Library Journal
"Full of sizzling chemistry and razor-sharp dialogue."--Night Owl Reviews, Reviewer Top Pick, 4 1/2 Stars
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Sage was an early riser so sleeping until eight o’clock had given her a stinging headache.
She grabbed her forehead and snuggled back into the covers, but the pain didn’t
go away. She needed a handful of aspirin and a cup of strong black coffee. She
seldom won a fight with Grand when they were playing on an even field. A
blasted headache would give her grandmother a real advantage. She jerked on a
Christmas sweatshirt printed with Tweety Bird all tangled up in a strand of
lights on the front and pulled on a pair of gray sweat bottoms. She finished
off the outfit with fluffy red socks from her dresser drawer.
Grand hadn’t even stopped long enough to get a fire going.
That could wait. Coffee came before warmth. Sage passed the fireplace and went
straight to the kitchen. She filled the electric coffee maker, added a filter
and two scoops of coffee, and flipped the switch.
“Well, shit!” she exclaimed.
Old habits sure died hard. If the lights wouldn’t work,
neither would the electric coffeepot. And that left out the washing machine,
the clothes dryer, and the electric churn to make butter, too.
The fact that the electricity was out wasn’t anything new
in Palo Duro Canyon .
If the wind blew too hard, and it did real often in the winter, the electricity
went out. Grand said that if someone sneezed too loud up in Silverton or in
Claude that it went out, so no electricity in a blizzard was no big surprise.
That’s why they heated the house as much as possible with the fireplace and
cooked with propane.
Sage opened a cabinet door and removed the old Pyrex
percolator, filled it with water, put a filter in the basket, added coffee, and
set it on the back burner of the stove. She wasn’t as good as Grand about
knowing just how long it needed to perk, but it would be coffee in a few
minutes even if it might taste like mud from the cow lot.
She found the aspirin bottle to the left of the sink and
swallowed four with half a glass of orange juice. While the coffee perked, she
chose several good-sized logs from beside the fireplace and got a big fire
going.
“Bless Grand’s heart for bringing in wood to dry,” she
said.
She sat down in one of the two rocking chairs pulled up to
the fireplace and warmed her hands by the heat. And a sudden pang of guilt
twisted its way around her heart. Grand was out doing chores in this
godforsaken weather and she was lollygagging around getting warm. She dug her
cell phone out of her coat pocket and punched in the speed dial for her
grandmother to see what she could do to help and a message popped up immediately
saying there was no service available.
Of course there was no service. Damn storm, anyway!
At least Grand would come inside to a good fire to warm
her cold feet by and a pot of coffee all perked and ready. Poor old girl would
be miserable cold and she hadn’t even had one cup of coffee yet. It was going
to be a long morning for sure.
At seventy she had no business out in weather like this
without any help. If Sage knew exactly where she was in the process, she would
suit up and go help. But those pesky hogs wouldn’t tell her they’d already been
fed or the chickens, either and starting an argument with Grand already pissed
because Sage had wasted chicken scratch or hog feed wasn’t the smartest thing.
The living room soon warmed and the smell of coffee filled
the house. Maybe she should whip up some pancakes for breakfast. Grand loved
them and that would sweeten her up to see Sage’s point of view. She had just
set the mixing bowl on the cabinet when the back door swung open.
“It’s about time you came in from the cold,” she said as
she turned.
Her hand flew up to her pounding heart and she backed up
against the cabinet.
The abominable snowman pushed his way into the house
behind something that was either the ugliest dog on the face of the earth or an
alien from a faraway planet. The huge thing set a galvanized bucket of milk on
the table and a basket of eggs right beside it before he stomped his feet on
the rug under the coatrack. The dog stopped in the middle of the kitchen floor
and shook from shoulder to tail, sending even more snow flying everywhere in
her kitchen. When it melted there would be water everywhere and her socks would
be soaked.
“Who the hell are you? Get out of here and take that
miserable mutt with you,” Sage said.
Creed removed his old felt cowboy hat and pulled off the
face mask. His nose was scarlet and his dark eyelashes dusted with snowflakes.
And of all the crazy things, there was a spring of mistletoe stuck in the snow
on his shoulder as if it had grown there.
“I’m Creed Riley, ma’am, and I reckon if you want to throw
your dog out in the snow that’s your business, but I’m not that mean or cruel
to animals. And I’m here to stay since I’m the cowboy who bought this ranch. I
guess you’d be Sage Presley. I didn’t think you’d make it home in this
blizzard. I heard the roads were closed off.”
He was well over six feet tall because Sage had to look up
to him. His brown hair was a bit too long, and his mossy green eyes were rimmed
with black lashes topped with heavy dark brows. His deep voice held a definite Texas drawl.
She backed up to the cabinet and braced herself against
it. “Where is Grand? Is she behind you?”
“No, left a day early since the storm was coming in. I
expect she’s in Pennsylvania
by now where it’s fifty degrees and sunshiny today. Crazy, ain’t it? We get a
blizzard and the east coast is downright pleasant. At least it was yesterday
when she called to tell me that she’d made it fine and to tell you so when you
got home. Guess her cell phone’s battery was dead and her sister didn’t have
one so she called on a pay phone from the airport.”
Sage rolled her eyes. “You have got to be kiddin’ me!”
I've got a PB copy of Mistletoe Cowboy looking for a nice home in the US. Just fill out the form below. Merry Christmas!
a Rafflecopter giveaway





I've been caught under the mistletoe a few times!
ReplyDeletemodularmates(at)comcast(dot)net
I have been kissed under the Mistletoe. I was the one who put it up.
ReplyDeletedebby236 at gmail dot com
I have never been kissed under the Mistletoe. Tore923@aol.com
ReplyDeleteSure, about 25 years ago. :) Happy Holidays . I've certainly got room in my home for a Mistletoe Cowboy. lol
ReplyDeleteCarol L
Lucky4750 (at) aol (dot) com
Yep my dh does every year. :) I can't wait to read about Creed. Just the name. Yummy!
ReplyDeleteRhonda D
Thanks for the awesome post! Now that I think of it, I've never kissed under the mistletoe :)
ReplyDeleteYes my nephew this year gave me a kiss on the cheek, he is a teenager so he ly doesn't do the hug and kiss thing.
ReplyDeleteOhhh I've had my eye on this one. I love matchmakers and Cowboys at Christmas sounds like a fab combo :)
ReplyDeleteNope, can't say I have been kissed under the mistletoe. I don't even think I've ever seen any actual mistletoe!
Hope you ladies are having a wonderful Christmas!!
Anna
I have never been kissed under the Mistletoe.
ReplyDeleteparisfan_ca@yahoo.com
No, I've never kissed under the mistletoe. I guess I'm missing out.
ReplyDeletee.balinski(at)att(dot)net
Yes I have with my husband.
ReplyDeleteI have never been kissed under the mistletoe.
ReplyDeleteI don't even know what mistletoe looks like.
Nope, never kissed under the mistletoe :(
ReplyDeleteYes, just about every year!
ReplyDeleteHappy Holidays & thanks for the amazing giveaway!
elizabeth @ bookattict . com
Nope, never kissed under the mistletoe. :(
ReplyDeleteI'm very sad to say that I do not recall ever being kissed under the mistletoe. lisagk(at)yahoo(dot)com
ReplyDeleteI've never been kissed under the mistletoe :(
ReplyDeleteivegotmail8889(at)yahoo(dot)com
nope - I don't think I've ever been near any mistletoe
ReplyDeletesallans d at yahoo dot com
No. Thanks for the chance to win!
ReplyDeleteNot under real mistletoe, no. :(
ReplyDeleteI kiss my hubby under the fake stuff, though! :)
I have and there is a picture to prove it, but the prince turned out to be a toad, so it led no where.
ReplyDeletedrainbamaged.gyzmo at gmail.com