By Celeste Rupert (Guest Blogger)
There is just something about a bad boy.
It’s the reason for poems about highwaymen, books about pirates, movies about hitmen and spies and assassins. The scoundrel with the heart of gold has always captured our imaginations. There’s a list of famous villains a mile long, from popular culture and from history.
I do love an outlaw. A gentleman bandit, ruthless and charming.
I grew up reading my grandpa’s Louis L’amour novels, and today I have an extensive collection of my own, only partially “borrowed” from Grandpa’s bookshelves.
|He aims to misbehave|
The man who robbed the town bank might be the same man who fought for a woman’s honour, or left food for a family that needed it. Some of the West’s most celebrated lawmen had checkered histories, but in the frontier a man was judged by his actions, not his past.
My first erotic romance,Outlaw Rose, not only features an anti-hero in Tucker, the bank robber who makes off with the gold, but an anti-heroine in Rose.
Rose isn’t as straightforward in her thievery as Tucker and his band of rapscallions, but that doesn’t mean that her intentions were any more honourable. She’s using her strengths – smarts and sexuality – to get what she wants, and she’s not afraid to have a little fun along the way.
When these two lawbreakers get together, sparks fly in every direction.
Check out the excerpt below, and leave a comment (with your email address) telling me who your favorite lovable rogue is! You can probably guess who mine is. ;-) I’ll chose one commenter at random to win a .pdf copy of Outlaw Rose.
A branch cracked. Rose crouched down in the shadow of a nearby bush and hoped her dark dress and the overcast night would be enough to hide her from view. The footsteps grew nearer and she held her breath. Her heart pounded so loud in her ears that she was afraid it would lead him straight to her. She tried to calm down.
It was quiet. She strained her ears for any sign he was coming closer. The silence pressed in on her as she squinted through the darkness, searching for movement. There was nothing but the faint rustle of nearby leaves in the night breeze. She breathed out a sigh.
He was gone.
She sensed the movement a split second before she felt the hand close over her arm. She fought with all her strength, jerking backwards to try to break his grip, until the loud, metallic click of a hammer being drawn back echoed through the night. She froze.
"That’s better." His voice was a low growl and she felt the steel barrel of his pistol against her cheek. He lifted her to her toes, bringing his face down close to hers. She could smell the coffee on his breath, then his face was close enough to see clearly. His strong jaw and full lips had been hidden by the mask the day before, but she remembered his eyes, which registered surprise as he recognised her. "You! You’re that little snip of a bank teller." He pressed the gun harder into the soft skin of her face. "What the hell are you doing sneaking around our camp?"
"I followed you."
"The posse took off to the south, thinking you’d head for Mexico. I…" She hesitated, until the pistol jerked again. "I took a chance."
"Stupid of you. I can’t let you go now, or you’ll just run to the sheriff." He twisted, and she realised he was looking around him. "I don’t like killing women, but you’ve put me in a bad spot."
"No!" Her heart pounded in her ears.
"No?" He leaned over her menacingly. "Do you have another suggestion? We’ve made plans for that gold, and I don’t plan to let some pretty little bank teller get me hanged before I get around to spending it."
"If you’ll let me live…" Her voice trailed off.
He gave her a shake, bouncing her off his broad chest, his hand like steel on her arm.
"I’ll make it worth your while."
He froze and she collided with him again. "What?" he said.
She relaxed against him, trailing a trembling hand across his chest. She heard him suck in his breath, then jumped when his hand covered hers, holding it still.
You can buy Outlaw Rose here: http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=2010
Celeste Rupert lives and writes in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains. Her fascination with the Old West results in stories set in the rough and tumble world of the frontier, full of cowboys and outlaws and women who know exactly what they want and aren’t afraid to go get it.