I hope you enjoy reading about Eli falling in love and finding his “fated mate”. Yes, it’s a contemporary romance, but sometimes, a guy really does have just one woman who can reach inside his chest and squeeze the hell out of his heart. Eli finds her in this story.
I’m six books into this series, and I’m still having a blast writing about bounty hunters, but, as I’ve said before, the secret has been making sure I have unique characters every time. No cookie cutters. This time around, my hero is a very reserved man. Someone accustomed to experiencing life at a distance. He’s a former sniper for the SEALs and has closed off his emotions and his ability to connect with the people around him. That is, until he meets his perfect match—a fiercely independent sheriff’s deputy, who with the arch of an eyebrow and a direct, unwavering stare captures his attention. He’s the first “silver fox” of the series, so I enjoyed that aspect as well. In the meantime, there are lots of sexy times, lots of funny shit happening, and of course, we have the Dead Horse crew and townsfolk to add dimension to the excitement.
I hope you enjoy reading about my silver fox! And if you have time, I’d really appreciate it if you’d leave a review. Reviews aren’t for me, they’re for other readers who need to know about your experience with the story. I can say it’s sexy and fun, but readers believe other readers.
Eli
An ex-SEAL sniper, who has spent his life experiencing everything from a distance, finds his self-imposed solitude challenged by the one woman in the world who might have been made just for him.
Eli Pope left the SEALs when he feared that he was losing his humanity. Now, he’s the latest new hire at the Dead Horse branch of the Montana Bounty Hunters. However, working with the tight-knit hunters hasn’t broken through his reserve. He’s still the man on the outside looking in.
Then a chance meeting with Sheriff’s Deputy Kira Ennis sets him on a new path, leaving him hopeful for a brighter future. She’s unlike any woman he’s ever met—independent, smart, brave, and strong in her own right. He begins to believe that she’s the one person in the world meant to end his loneliness, but he hesitates, wondering if it’s right to pursue her when she’s so much younger than he is.
Do you love a Silver Fox? Do you love seeing two lonely people find each other? Then you don’t want to miss this story! Eli’s story releases tomorrow night after midnight!
An ex-SEAL sniper, who has spent his life experiencing everything from a distance, finds his self-imposed solitude challenged by the one woman in the world who might have been made just for him.
Eli Pope left the SEALs when he feared that he was losing his humanity. Now, he’s the latest new hire at the Dead Horse branch of the Montana Bounty Hunters. However, working with the tight-knit hunters hasn’t broken through his reserve. He’s still the man on the outside looking in.
Then a chance meeting with Sheriff’s Deputy Kira Ennis sets him on a new path, leaving him hopeful for a brighter future. She’s unlike any woman he’s ever met—independent, smart, brave, and strong in her own right. He begins to believe that she’s the one person in the world meant to end his loneliness, but he hesitates, wondering if it’s right to pursue her when she’s so much younger than he is.
Before we play, I’d just like to remind you that Montana Bounty Hunters: Dead Horse, MT, will add a new title this coming Tuesday! This is what Eli’s story is about in a nutshell…
An ex-SEAL sniper, who has spent his life experiencing everything from a distance, finds his self-imposed solitude challenged by the one woman in the world who might have been made just for him.
For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, solve the puzzle, and then tell me what happens next to the people in this picture! Have fun with your answers!
To be honest, I wasn’t…not until two years ago when my kids asked if I would have a “movie marathon” with them. Having teens, I learned to never turn down an opportunity to hang out because they’re always busy. We started with the first and worked our way through, I think, 25 more. It didn’t happen in one day or week. But over a month or so, we would all come together, with snacks and blankets, and watch the next Marvel. I can’t say that I remember all the timelines, galaxies, characters, etc, but what I will always remember is how much fun it was making memories with my family.
I do have a favorite. Guardians of the Galaxy 1&2. Do you have a favorite movie? Character?
I’m sharing pictures of a road trip my youngest and I took over the weekend and ended up at Cosi for the Marvel exhibit.
All Cowboy & Heart
Excerpt from my latest release, All Cowboy & Heart…
He leaned against the edge of the dresser, savoring her with those alluring eyes, looking mighty fine. “Dusty’s an interesting name for a girl. Is that a nickname?”
“I guess my dad wanted a boy, but instead he got me.” She set the bottle down, cleared a spot on the desk then lifted herself up to sit.
“I have a feeling you gave your dad a run for his money.” One thick brow popped up over those twinkling eyes.
“I certainly surprised him a time or two. He was your traditional male role model. You know the type. A penis makes you a man and a vagina makes you good with your hands in the kitchen.” She lifted the bottle, taking another nip, starting to feel very relaxed.
“Do you cook?”
“Does boiling water count?” She wiped the back of her hand across her lips. “I’m not much for cooking or baking, but then, I never tried. I was a bit rebellious.”
“Oh, you had something to prove, huh? Always doing the complete opposite of what was expected of you.”
“A woman can do anything a man can do, sometimes better.” She crossed her legs and leaned back on her hands. “I haven’t ever needed a man, except for one thing.” Did she hear a low growl from him when she pointedly dropped her gaze to his zipper?
“Ah, come on. We’re good at loosening tight lids on jars and saving beautiful women from bastards.”
“I have one of those handy dandy rubber gadgets. Works like a charm. And eventually I would have saved myself from Griff. You were definitely a bonus though.”
“How about plunging toilets? I haven’t met a woman yet who likes that task.”
“I have the plumber’s number on speed dial. You’ll have to try harder than that, Cowboy.”
“Is that a challenge?” he asked.
“If you see fit. I’ve always liked a challenge myself.” Against her better judgement she took another drink.
His grin widened. “I’m not surprised. So, Dusty…” he said her name with an even drawl that made her toes curl. “What’s your last name?”
“Why don’t we keep some things a mystery.” She found it quite satisfying teasing him. The verbal foreplay was an absolute turn on.
“Now how’s that fair? You know my full name, my brother, and a few of my secrets.”
With a casual shrug, she handed over the bottle for him to drink. In the golden candlelight his eyes were a shade darker, like the sky before a rainfall. “We both know we didn’t come back here to talk, Cowboy.” He passed the bottle again. She licked a droplet of whiskey off her top lip as she pulled it away from her mouth.
Rhonda Lee Carver is a bestselling author of contemporary western and romantic suspense, but she loves to write other genres too. She’s known for writing stories that keep readers laughing, crying, gripping the edge of their seats, and screaming all in one book…like riding a virtual roller coaster. Whether she’s creating sexy cowboys or tough guys, or sassy, independent heroines, readers are sure to find strong, powerful, memorable characters that are relatable.
By day, she taps into her creative, fictional world but at some point she transitions back into reality where she’s a volleyball-stands cheerleader, homework virtuoso (at least she thinks so), amateur nurse to skinned knees, mediocre chef with some awesome microwave skills, pet-guru (all the strays show up at her house), and a Jackie of all trades for her kids who are the loves of her life. Yoga and chocolate keep her sane. Hallmark movies require cuddling up with tissues because she can be emotional. She adds a sprinkle of her own real-life adventures in each story she spins because a little truth never hurt anyone. She wouldn’t give up one thing in her crazy, chaotic, ever-amusing life, except, she might do magic tricks for the bungalow on the beach she’s had her eye on (GOALS).
Writing for Rhonda is like falling in love and finding a new best friend over and over again. Her characters will find a place inside your heart too.
My name is Raisa Greywood. I write contemporary romance. I waver back and forth between dark and comedy, but hey, life is too short to pick just one! I also write paranormal romance under the pen name Minette Moreau.🐉
A question I’m often asked is, “How/why did you start writing?”
I don’t think I’m unique—every author has been asked this at some point in their careers, and probably more than once. The answers are as individual as the authors.
The how is easy—and incredibly difficult at the same time. One simply parks their backside in a chair and…
Wait! You mean there are grammar rules? What the heck is past perfect and why do I need it? Character development? Plot? Story structure?
Aaaah!
Here’s a Raisa fun fact. Until I was somewhere around fifty years old, I thought the past perfect verb tense was a joke created by my middle school English teacher to torment me.
The why is a bit more muddled. I was teaching high school math at the time, after a long career using numbers in another field. My last formal English class was sometime during the Regan administration. I’ve always been an avid reader though. Romance, fantasy, science fiction, horror… If it was printed between two pieces of card stock, I’d likely read it.
Yep, I was the kid who read cereal boxes.
I remember being delighted beyond words when my father brought home a whole set of very cheaply printed Nancy Drew mysteries from one of his business trips. Those books went from Maryland, to Germany, to Hawaii, and finally to Ohio. Unfortunately, after so much time and so many moves, I’ve lost track of them.
As I got older, my tastes changed, and it became harder to find books that truly resonated with me. When I first started writing, I was a year away from being an empty-nester, and I had my very own happy-ever-after with my amazing husband. More on him later.
Let’s face it. I wasn’t a twenty-something virgin. Heck, I wasn’t that woman when I got married. Even then, I was separated from that archetypal heroine by a decade of experience, relationships, and a career. This isn’t to say those heroines aren’t great, but they weren’t me.
Where was the mature bisexual woman who chose a geeky engineer for her knight in shining… coveralls?
I wanted realistic characters. People of color. LGBTQ+ people. People with scars, damage, histories, and rich backstory. I remember hearing someone say something along the lines of, “Only straight white people get a happy ending.”
Calling bullshit, honey.
I finally decided something along the lines of, “If nobody is writing the books I want to read, what’s stopping me from doing it myself?”
Cue the rabbit hole.
So… I wrote. My first attempts (note the plural there) were abysmal. One was a three-hundred-thousand-word behemoth that shall never see the light of day again. My second attempt is still one of my biggest regrets.
It was a Regency romance with an older heroine, and of course, a handsome duke. The heroine’s name was Miranda. She was wrongly convicted of theft, transported to Australia, and became quite a brilliant pirate before she found her true love. I adored her!
It was a wonderful story, but I lacked the skill to do it justice. I still think about dusting it off sometimes.
Anyway, where was I?
Oh, yes. Attempts. Plural. Every author has a collection of early work. We all look back on them with a mixture of fondness and horror, yet that is how we learn. We practice.
One of my dearest friends from high school convinced me to keep writing, telling me I was good. I, of course, didn’t believe her a bit.
But I kept at it.
And I got better.
I embraced the learning curve. Any skill worth doing is worth doing well.
Then I got good.
Someone commented on one of my books that she’d never laughed so much while reading a dark romance.
THAT is what I want. I want all the dark humor and scorching chemistry. It was as if my skills had finally gotten good enough to communicate my vision.
I’m a USA Today bestseller now. Remember my husband? My knight in shining coveralls? Well, he’s supported me at every step. When his parents threw me shade, he backed me up.
When they said, “It’s a phase,” he said, “Buy a fucking USA Today. My wife is in it.”
I love that man so hard. He’s the reason I do enemies-to-lovers so well. We hated each other in college. I’d like to say I fell in love with him because he’s got romance novel equipment in tight boxer briefs, but it’s really because he’s truly amazing. He’s the man who shovels snow for an elderly neighbor and won’t take money for it and spends twenty years helping with a Cub Scout pack—even though we don’t have boys.
In fact, my first published work was a joke, written for him. He loves space opera, so I wrote him one. He was impatient though and was forever bugging me for just one more chapter.
So, I gave him one.
Our house is two stories with a finished basement. When he got to the end of what I’d written, in which the heroine had faked her own death, I could hear him yell from the upper floor. He now mutters darkly about never reading another living author again.
In any case, my mother-in-law now introduces me to people. “This is my daughter-in-law, Raisa. She writes dirty books.”
I thought her caregiver was going to lose her shit.
Meanwhile, my dear friend—the one who has encouraged me all along—is still writing but is struggling. She received crushing critique from someone who isn’t her audience and doesn’t read her genre.
It’s my turn to encourage her now because I absolutely refuse to let her give up.
So many people have helped me, and the authors I once fangirled over are some of my dearest friends. In fact, Delilah Devlin—the host of this blog—is one of them.
Well, she’s one of the authors I fangirl over. Considering I just got up the nerve to send her a Facebook friend request, I’m not about to be cheeky enough to call her a friend. She’s definitely a colleague though, which is totally cool by itself.
Give me time. Delilah doesn’t know about my seriously epic bar or my selection of yummy snacks yet. I’ll have her in my clutches soon!
Yes, authors are easily bribed with food and booze.
Anyway, I digress. Quite a lot actually.
I digress so much, I had to create a second pen name because I’m constitutionally incapable of being just Raisa.
Raisa writes steamy contemporary BDSM. Minette Moreau writes steamy paranormal. But you know what? No matter who is writing the story, you can guarantee the characters are going to be snarky, sexy, and will love as deeply and as powerfully as they fight.
I’m busy with a literal crapton of projects, but if you want to catch up with me at all the usual places, find your favorite at this convenient Linktree: https://linktr.ee/RaisaGreywood.
Thanks to Delilah for inviting me to her blog, and especially special thanks to everyone who reads.
I’m busy finishing Eli’s story—my handsome silver fox! If you’d like to read a snippet from the opening of the story, it’s right here: READ AN EXCERPT
While I’m writing, my SIL and daughter are right next door repainting my bedroom. Now, when I say it’s a major undertaking, I’m underrepresenting just how difficult this task is. I’ve lived a lot of years, and I have a bunch of stuff. So, they shift everything one way then the other to get to the walls. That sounds like I’m a major hoarder, doesn’t it? Like I have so much crap they have to make tunnels to get to the walls. I swear it’s not that bad, but I do have a couple of cabinets—one large—full of collectibles (Russian boxes, Fenton glass, snuff bottles, fortune-telling teacups…) that had to be emptied, and all that stuff is now sitting carefully stacked on a banquet table IN MY OFFICE. It’s a wee bit distracting—all that activity and clutter overtaking spaces…
So, me writing with things piled up around me—get the picture? And I have to have Eli finished by next Friday!!!! I’ll make it, but getting there won’t be pretty. Good thing Eli is! 🙂
For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, tell me what treasures you collect. Do you have bottles of buttons? (I do! Still haven’t figure out what to do with them!) Do you collect crocheted afghans? Share for a chance to win!
I’m being lazy! I pieced together this patchwork of covers last week for a contest, and I’m using it again because I’m super busy and don’t have time to be original! Do you care?! LOL!
Contest
For a chance to win your choice of one of the books below,
tell me if you have any furbabies/pets, what kind, and their names—and I’d love for you to say what your pets do for you.
Click on any cover to learn more about the story!
Excerpt from Ride a Texas Cowboy…
The house Katelyn Carter had bought sight unseen was kind of like her—weathered by storms and in need of a lot of TLC.
After a quick glance around the empty road, she set her truck into park and stared down the long graveled drive. She let her eyes blur and tried to imagine how the old house must have looked once upon a time before the harsh South Texas sun had baked its exterior. She wasn’t encouraged. Even seen from behind her dirty windshield, she could tell the one-story ranch needed a lot of work, and at the very least, a fresh coat of paint.
A lone tear streaked down her face, surprising her, and she sniffed. One last cry—she deserved that much. Then no more feeling sorry for herself. She had too much to do and a whole new life stretching in front of her.
A loud honk sounded, and Katelyn swung her gaze to her rearview mirror to find that a dusty, older model pick-up truck had pulled up behind her. She swiped away the tears with the back of her hand, and then stuck her arm out the window to wave the driver past.
Instead, the driver-side door opened, and a tall Texan in faded jeans and a cream-colored cowboy hat stepped onto the pavement.
Katelyn cursed under her breath and quickly tilted down the mirror to see whether her mascara had smeared. She didn’t really care what a stranger thought—that was the old Katelyn. Still, some habits died hard.
When boot steps stopped beside her, she glanced up…and found herself trapped by a moss-green gaze that raised the temperature within her cab a notch. The rest of him was just as captivating. Dark brown hair peeked from beneath his hat. His jaw was angular, his chin chiseled. Shallow crows’ feet surrounded those amazing eyes and crinkled when he frowned—as he was doing now. But they were wrinkles caused by the sun, not the weathering of a few years, like hers.
Damn! Here stood the first man she’d met since her separation who made her think of all the steamy possibilities, and he was too young.
She didn’t realize she’d cursed out loud until his soft chuckle washed over her like a silky caress. Her cheeks flamed instantly.
“Women don’t generally cuss me ’til after they know me better,” he said, his baritone voice thick as molasses.
Someone commented on one of my books that she’d never laughed so much while reading a dark romance.
