Blurb for Cowboy Blues
Gay cowboys? Gay rodeos?
Rainbow Rough Riders Rodeo, is a small, newly formed group made up of a diverse selection of gay men who each have their own reasons for wanting to compete in the rodeo challenges and enjoy the fun of the celebration of the wild west.
Follow three couples; Ken Marsh, the forty-one year old founder of the group, his forty-five year old country music singer lover, Lyle Jackson; the two bearded cuddly bears who are the perfect couple, Rob Grafton and Victor Sarita, and the youngest of the bunch, Mike ‘Clint’ Wolcott and the object of his desire, Cheyenne Wheeler.
Six men, three complicated relationships, and all the thrill and hardship that goes with life on the road, moving town to town, riding bareback and enjoying a good hard buck! And that doesn’t even include the rodeo competitions!
Cowboys. The new macho sex symbols, or maybe not ‘new’, maybe just the sexiest men around. But being a cowboy sometimes is a hard road, and even Cowboys get the blues.
Sample Chapter; Cowboy Blues
Clint shook off his hands at the sink and took the bowl. “Thanks, Rob. Always good chow here.”
“That’s because you look so good in chaps, cowboy.” Rob slapped Clint’s rump.
“Yeah!” Clint moaned. “Never get tired of manhandling.”
Cheyenne and Victor exchanged glances, then Cheyenne set out a few bottles of beer on the table for anyone who wanted one.
“Still got some chili left, Rob?” Victor carried his bowl to the stove.
“You know me. I make enough for twenty men and you four eat all of it.” He ladled more food into Victor’s bowl. Victor peered back at the table and noticed Cheyenne and Clint staring at each other as they sat across from each other. “Will you two just fuck already?”
“How do you know we didn’t?” Clint laughed, the beer bottle to his lips.
“Because he knows we didn’t.” Cheyenne chewed his cornbread.
“What kind of man do you like, Shy?” Clint asked, quickly gobbling his food.
Victor sat beside Clint, where he had been when the men came in.
Cheyenne said, “I like all kinds.”
“Yeah? All kinds?” Clint’s blue eyes lit up in excitement.
Victor wondered why these two hadn’t slept together. They certainly danced around each other a lot. Victor knew Cheyenne and Ken created this rodeo group to give gay men a venue for what is considered a very straight, macho sport. Cheyenne worked as a card dealer in Reno when he and Ken met and thought of the idea for a gay rodeo group of their own. Clint was their most recent addition to the group. Though he was young, he was fearless and did most of the rough stock events.
“Men. Not boys.” Cheyenne managed to say it with a straight face.
Clint took a moment to think, having stuffed the chunk of cornbread into his mouth.
Cheyenne drank his beer. Nothing ruffled him.
After Rob fed the cat, he joined the men at the table. “What did I miss?” He placed a bowl of food in front of himself and Victor.
Victor could see beads of sweat on Rob’s bald head from his rushing around and cooking over a hot stove.
Clint said, “I think I was just insulted.”
“Oh?” Rob ate another bite of food.
Victor laughed and began eating his second helping.
“Yeah, Shy said he likes all kinds of men, then made out like I was a little boy.”
“Sweetheart,” Rob said, “You’re twenty. Most boys that age can’t even drink legally.”
“Y’all are not that much older than me.” Clint used the bread to soak up the rest of the chili.
Victor met Rob’s knowing glance.
“We’re all older than you, baby. And you’re young enough to be Victor’s son.”
Clint shrugged, appearing unruffled. “I’m good with it.” Clint stood, taking his bowl to the pot to get another helping.
Victor winked at Rob, who was smiling at the conversation.
When Cheyenne stood, loaded his bowl into the dishwasher and left the room, carrying a beer, Victor could see the disappointment in Clint.
“Ya can’t always get what you want,” Victor whispered to Rob.
“Nope. Ya can’t.” Rob took a bite of cornbread and smiled.
After he finished eating, Clint stood, bringing his bowl to rinse and load into the washer. He looked into the chili pot and found it empty. “I’m still hungry.”
“I made dessert.” Rob stood, helping Clint clean up the stove and wash the pots that were too big to fit into the dishwasher.
“What did ya make?” Clint wiped his hands on a towel.
“Coffee cake.” Rob added soap to the dishwasher and closed the door, starting it. It was full at the moment.
“Yes, please.” Clint looked around for it.
Victor tossed the empty beer bottles into a recycle bin. “He’s got it hidden.” Victor held up a plate covered with aluminum foil.
Rob chuckled but didn’t look, continuing to clean up the kitchen.
“Why don’t you bring some to Ken and Cheyenne?” Victor removed the foil and Clint could already see the cake was sliced up in squares.
“Sure.” Clint waited for Rob to load up a small plate with treats. As he did, Clint picked one up and stuffed it into his mouth.
Victor did the same thing, and then smacked Clint on the bottom as he left the room.
Clint held the plate steady after the slap and met Rob’s eyes. Rob was smiling. “It’s the chaps.”
“I know.” Clint chuckled. “Gay boys and cowboys. Like milk and honey.”
“Yup.” Rob held up another chunk of coffee cake to feed Clint.
Clint liked being the youngest. He was spoiled rotten by these men. He opened his mouth and Rob fed him.
“Now go. Behave yourself.”
“Not likely,” Clint said with his mouth full. He got another pat on the rump from Rob.
He made his way down the hall, eying the cakes, which were coated in cinnamon and sugar crumbles, and to die for. He pressed his ear to the door first, then knocked. “Got something for ya, boss.”
“Come in,” Ken said through the door.
When Clint opened it he spotted Cheyenne on the floor with a stack of paperwork and Ken seated at the computer.
“Rob made cake.”
“What kind?” Ken asked.
“Coffee cake. It’s excellent.”
Ken made room for the plate near his pile of work on the desk. “Thanks, Clint.”
Clint picked up a piece and crouched before Cheyenne. He held it up for him to bite. “You gotta try this.”
Cheyenne met his stare and said, “I’m good.”
“Are ya? I haven’t the pleasure of finding that out yet.” Clint heard Ken’s chair squeak as if he were looking at them. Since Cheyenne didn’t eat the cake, Clint stuffed it in his mouth, staring at Cheyenne while he did.
“The animals all set for the night?” Ken asked.
“Think so. Are they, Shy?” Clint held Cheyenne’s leg and rocked it playfully.
Cheyenne just stared at him silently.
“Go check if you’re not sure, Clint,” Ken said.
“All right, boss.” Clint tried to get a smile out of Cheyenne but it didn’t happen. He stood up, brushed his hands over his leather chaps and thrust his pelvis out slightly, showing off his bulge. When his actions got Cheyenne’s attention, Clint cupped his crotch and gave himself a good squeeze as a tease. He mouthed, ‘You want it.’
Cheyenne’s expression never changed.
Clint smiled at him and left, headed out to the barn. Nothing he loved better than taking care of animals. That and fucking.
He put his boots, hat, and coat on, and heard Rob yell from the kitchen, “Everything all right, hot stuff?”
“Yup.” Clint adjusted his hat and left the house.
Ken ate the cake and looked over at Cheyenne. “Should I tell Clint to cool it?”
“No.” Cheyenne gave Ken a wicked smile.
Ken started laughing and turned back to his computer screen, brushing off his hands. “I love you guys.”