My Grandfather, Sergio Leone, and Clint Eastwood by L.C. Chase
It was my grandfather who first introduced me to the mysterious cowboy.
When I was still young and small enough to ride the neighbors’ Shetland ponies, my younger brother and I often spent weekends at my grandparents’ house “out in the country”. They had forty acres nestled in amongst working ranches and dressage stables. It was there that I first learned to groom a horse, take care of tack, learned to ride and drive, and milk the cows. I was already head over heels for horses, but it was Sergio Leone’s spaghetti westerns and Clint Eastwood’s “Blondie” who made me fall in love with the cowboy.
As far back as I can remember, on those weekends out in the country, after dinner and dessert, my grandfather and I would stay up late to watch old black and white westerns on TV. We watched all the classics: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, A Fist Full of Dollars, Once Upon a Time in the West, and on. I loved Blondie, and Josey Wales, and the man with no name. Those characters, those men, were intimidating forces of nature who commanded attention and respect, and outlaw or not, somehow always managed to do the right thing. And I couldn’t get enough.
My grandfather always fell asleep during the movies, but he had this uncanny sense of knowing when the closing credits were about to roll. He would wake with a grunt and ask me how I liked the movie. I always teased him for sleeping through it, but of course, he was adamant that he’d been watching the whole time.
That iconic image of Blondie — a lone man surrounded by the muted tans of a desolate, one-horse town, face shielded from the sun under the brim of his Stetson, standing at ease in the middle of a deserted street as he faced off his challenger — that has always stuck with me. That one image speaks strength and mystery, and makes my blood pump hot and furious through every vein.
And that’s just what happened to Ray Ford the first time he saw Travis Morgan, in my first solo M/M romance novel, Long Tall Drink…
The Blurb…
Fourth generation rancher, Ray Ford has lived a lie for nearly forty years. Having seen what can happen to an openly gay cowboy in small townAmerica, and not willing to risk Ford Creek’s legendary reputation, he keeps that part of himself tightly locked down. Everything changes one Sunday morning when Ray, out of character, picks up a handsome hitchhiker looking for work. Hiring the enigmatic cowboy stretches the bounds of Ray’s control and forces him to question just how much he’s willing to risk for that one true love.
Travis Morgan learned a hard lesson early in his life – love was conditional. Even though he’s a world-class horse trainer in high-demand, he lives the life of a drifter, moving from ranch to ranch like the wind. He’ll play when the opportunity arises, but he won’t invest himself emotionally. But when he takes on the job training horses at Ford Creek Ranch, the stoic rancher with the sexy five o’clock shadow just might change all that – if Travis can take the risk and stick around long enough to find out.
Long Tall Drink is available at Loose Id
Visit my blog for current news and works in progress, as well as the missing chapter from Long Tall Drink
Find L.C. at her Website | Goodreads | Twitter | Google+
The Excerpt…
A moving flash of gold light ahead, like a distress signal, pulled him from his thoughts. Focusing on the source of the signal, Ray made out the shape of a lone cowboy camouflaged in faded jeans and a tan jacket, walking along the cracked edge of rough road, a beat-up dust-colored duffel bag heaped over his shoulder. If the sun hadn’t reflected off a buckle, Ray probably wouldn’t have noticed the man until he was on him.
Closing in on the wanderer, Ray realized the smooth, effortless gait couldn’t really be called a walk, more like a swagger.
The cowboy turned around and hooked his thumb to the sky. Long legs planted shoulder-width apart staked his ground. The collar of the well-worn ranch jacket was flipped up, shielding against the chill spring breeze that danced across the plains from the East.
Even though dark sunglasses and a cowboy hat that sat low on the brow worked together to hide most of his face, it was his presence alone that seemed to command attention.
Ray wasn’t one for picking up hitchhikers—not that there were many, if any, on this deserted stretch of US-310, especially in the early hours of a Sunday morning—but something about the man on the side of the road compelled him.
Before he’d thought it through, his foot had moved from the gas pedal to the brake. As if on its own accord, the truck pulled off the two-lane highway, steel-belted tires growling over rumble strips, and came to a stop fifty yards beyond where the cowboy stood. Dust billowed into a small tornado in the wake of the vehicle’s draft, obscuring the man from view. Ray watched in his rearview mirror as the cowboy stepped out of the swirling cloud like a rising phoenix—or the hero in an action movie emerging in slow motion unscathed from a fireball.
“Well, would you look at that,” Ray mumbled. “There’s a long, tall drink of sexy if I ever did see one.”
Lean legs ate up the pavement with an unhurried stride only a truly confident man could master. Now that the cowboy was facing the bright morning sun, the concealing Stetson and sunglasses couldn’t hide the slightly crooked nose, strong square jaw, cleft chin, and lips worthy of exploration.
An odd niggle of anticipation teased the edges of Ray’s consciousness.
He turned off the radio and pressed a button on his armrest to lower the passenger-side window as the cowboy reached the truck. The hitcher removed his sunglasses and leaned in. Intelligent, deep green eyes flecked with bronze, a hint of mischief sparked in their shadows, gazed back at Ray.
“Where you headed, cowboy?”
“Bridger.” Just one word and the deep, resonant voice sent an unexpected spike of heat through Ray’s nervous system.
The words escaped before his brain caught up. “You’re in luck. Hop in.”
The cowboy flashed a magazine-cover smile that revealed impossibly white teeth and inclined his head. “Thanks.”
He opened the door, tossed his duffel on the backseat, and climbed gracefully into the cab. A rush of cold air followed him in and swirled around Ray’s legs.
The quad cab of the fire-engine-red Dodge Ram 3500 shrank to the size of a Mini Cooper as the man settled into the leather bucket seat beside him. Ray watched as his passenger hit the button to close the window and buckled himself in. He was tall, solid, and exuded a kinetic energy that could knock a bottle off the fence at a hundred paces.
The cowboy turned to face him, and time stretched out in weighted silence. A glint in the man’s eye held Ray captive, as though he were on the verge of sharing a great secret—a secret Ray suddenly wanted to know. Needed to know.
A crooked grin spread across the ruggedly handsome face. “Name’s Travis.”
The skin at the back of Ray’s neck warmed. He nodded. “Ray.”
Time continued to saunter on without them as they sat facing each other, immobile, truck idling smoothly. Travis broke the time glitch by tapping his forefinger to the brim of his hat, his intense gaze not leaving Ray’s. In that deep, whiskey voice, he drawled, “S’a pleasure, Ray.”
* * *
Long Tall Drink is available at Loose Id
Visit my blog for current news and works in progress, as well as the missing chapter from Long Tall Drink
Find L.C. at her Website | Goodreads | Twitter | Google+
One Response to “My Grandfather, Sergio Leone, and Clint Eastwood by L.C. Chase”
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Fabulous excerpt – and it projects that “strength and mystery” so well, with an added sexy tone. I loved the book! 🙂