Designs On Daphne (11 page)

  C
oming Soon. . .

Rodric and Daphne’s romance continues in the McGreer Series. The following pages contain excerpts from previous stories.

McGreers #1
“Crashing Into Tess”
Veterinarian Tess Bamberger has way too many close calls with rancher Jake McGreer. . . Was Crashing Into Tess the hit of Jake’s Lifetime?

Published 2013 as an e-book and in print.

McGreers #2
“Crazy On Daisy”
is a novella~ Daisy Antlerone has lost everything but attitude. Bothersome boy next door Hank Gallagher gives her way more than she bargained for.

Published 2014 as an e-book.

A short story “Daisy in Vegas” will be added soon.

McGreers #3
“Right Kinda Bull”
is

a short story e-book about Texas rancher Ty McGreer’s romantic mishaps with Texas A&M veterinarian Lindsay Robbins.

Published 2014 as an e-book.

McGreers #4 “Designs On Daphne” Daphne Antelerone decorates the Austin apartment of attorney and oil heir Rodric McGreer, making some unexpected creative discoveries!

Published 2014 as an e-book.

McGreers # 5 “Luvvin’ Lulu” Luanne Rodriguez became a mother while still in her teens. She and Jose have done lots of lovin’, but Lu feels lost out on a lot of living, too.

Coming June 2014 as an e-book.

McGreers # 6 “Whole Lotta Bull” Ty McGreer discovers Lindsay Robbins’ secret, and the truth tramples his heart like no bull could. How could the woman he loved so completely be so cruel?

Coming July 2014 as an e-book.

McGreers #7 “Daisy Does Dallas” A surprise discovery takes Daisy to Dallas. . and she needs Janie to come along as her cheerleader!

Lilly Christine’s “McGreers” titles are currently published exclusively on Amazon.

Au
thor’s Note

About those McGreers . .

 
“The Big Valley” was my childhood go-to television show. Barbara Stanwyck’s clear-headed, outspoken matriarch Victoria Barkley was, in my humble six year old opinion, the consummate ranch dame, and I was fascinated by how well she made those strapping big bad boys behave.

   Johnny and Jane West’s ranch house and stable of paperboard was my most coveted Christmas gift, transporting me right to the bucolic grazing lands of the American West. Too soon, the ranch was destroyed in a sister-fight; that darn thing didn’t hold up as well as my sister’s plastic buckboard and horse figure, which are still routinely brought out to entertain nieces, nephews and cousins.

  In the fifth grade, my parents returned from a convention in Dallas with “Texas” souvenirs, and I was hooked for life.  Since then, I’ve toured wine country around Dripping Springs, two-stepped to “Heybale” at Austin’s Continental Club, and watched barrel racing in Odessa . . Miriam “Ma” Ferguson, Ann Richards, Wendy Davis, Eliza Gilkyson, Patty Griffin and other kickass women of depth, substance and grit are the inspiration for the women of the “McGreer’s Series”, which fits the genre of contemporary western or “cowboy” romance. I prefer the term “Cowgirl Chick-Lit”. . . Because while cowgirls do get the blues, nuthin’ keeps us down for very long!

  I’m grateful to a whole host of people, but I’m mostly grateful to my readers. . .You’ve embraced my little bit (two inches) of Lone Star and Centennial state, worked with a fine brush. Your reviews and enthusiasm for the series and its characters make my little Keystone heart beat with excitement, inspiring me as I craft the next release!

  I’m always available for book-signings, readings and appearances, especially to benefit my reader’s favorite animal shelters and rescues. Please visit my website

www.LillyChristine.com
, contact me at
[email protected]
, or find me on Facebook!
If you enjoyed this story please
leave a review on Amazon
.

Thanks again (so much!) for reading~

Lilly

Reader Reviews are Important!

If you enjoyed “Designs On Daphne”,

please post a review on Amazon and Goodreads

and “Like”
the Crashing Into Tess/McGreer’s Series FaceBook Page
!

“Crashing Into Tess” (McGreers #1)

Copyright 2013 by Lilly Christine

Jake McGreer hoisted an oak dresser
through the entry way and into Tess Bamberger’s empty apartment. Drawer in hand, she followed him to the bedroom, motioning where she wanted it.

  Then she slid the drawer into place and turned to him, a little breathless. “Thank you so much. For all of this. You’re really helping me out here.”

  “It’s no problem. I’ll feel better knowing you’re settled in.”  His fingers itched. He wanted badly to reach for one of her corkscrew curls.  “Do you have a boyfriend, Tess?”

  She looked up at him wide-eyed and shook her head. “No, no boyfriend.”

  He moved closer, letting a hand drop to her waist. Her skin was warm and taut, better than he’d imagined.
This is exactly what I said I wouldn’t do.
“How old are you?” he sighed.

  “Eighteen.”

  Startled, he pulled away.

  She giggled and slugged him gently. “Silly, I’m twenty-six.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “You look younger than that.”

  “I hear that a lot.”

  Touching her hair, careful of her bandage, he asked. “Ever been in a serious relationship?”

  “Not really serious. I was with my college boyfriend for three years, but he dumped me when he went to law school. My blood type is A positive, want my GPA?” she whispered, moving closer.

  Her chin tilted up to him, so close now. He couldn’t stop his lips from brushing against hers, soft and tender. “Tess?”

  “Hmm?” she murmured, running a forefinger along his collarbone.

  He groaned softly, trying to resist. “Tess, I don’t usually kiss women I barely know.” 

  She tucked her head against his chest. “Me neither, Jake.”

  “You don’t kiss women you barely know?”

  “Not usually.” She smiled up at him, shaking her head. “Or men either. But you’re the person in Green Junction I know best.” 

  “I’m the only person you know in Green Junction, Crash,” he murmured, letting a hand fall to her waist. He kissed her for real then, his mouth hot on her pink lips. When he felt her twitchy little tongue tease his, he felt his heart catch. He came up for air, breathing hard surprised by the effect she had on him. “So you’re not afraid to go after what you want, either, huh?”

  She met his eye. “I wouldn’t say that. You’ve taken really good care of me since last night. I like being with you. It feels safe.”

  “Oh, I’m safe. And there’s plenty of time to get to know me if you decide to stick around Green Junction,” he said, dropping his hands, which felt empty without her.

  “I’m here for the duration,” she said with certainty.

  “That remains to be seen. You haven’t even put a day in on the job.” He plucked a curl, then, unable to resist, pressed his nose into her hair, breathing the scent of her again, lemony and soft and fragrant. She tightened her hands around his back, her fingertips pressing on the tight muscles at his rib cage.

  “I should leave before we get in trouble here,” he murmured.

  “We’re already in trouble,” she told him softly, kissing his chin. Unable to resist, he found her mouth again. 

  “Daddy?” a shrill little voice called from the front yard. “Daddy, are you here?” 

  Red-faced, Jake pulled away and walked quickly to the front of the apartment. Boots tapping down the porch steps, he asked, “Cassie? It’s Friday. Why aren’t you in school?”

Cha
pter 1: Eating Dust

“If you’re not makin’ dust, you’re eatin’ it.” ~ Buck Antelerone

  “Gol-Dang-it!”

  White rage blanked Daisy Antelerone’s brain as she cut the engine. The thermostat needle swung into the red and steam began billowing from the cracks of the ‘92 Chevy pickup’s dented hood.

  Uttering a string of oaths, she opened the rusty blue door, climbed out and swung her booted foot back, kicking an almost bald tire, hard. Fury didn’t erase the thud her big toe took inside a newly re-soled Tony Lama.

   Jumping around one-legged on the dusty yellow road, Daisy hissed hotter and angrier than the plumes that vaporized in the bright springtime sky of an early Texas afternoon.
This is no way to begin a winning rodeo season.

  Her saddle was in a bag on the seat; sleeping bag, hay and grain stowed in back. She’d just loaded up at the spit of house and barn Buck Antelerone had left behind, three miles down the valley. Hobble Creek cut the huge McGreer spread to the south from the endless lands of Gallagher Ranch to the west and north, carving out the tiny spot where the Antelerone’s had eked a meager existence for as long as anyone could remember.

 
From the back of her dinky two-horse trailer, Gypsy Girl snorted. Scrimping and saving, Daisy had figured a way she and Gypsy could just squeak into finals, but there was no spare cash, no squeak room for injury or mishap.

  “Give me a minute, Girl. I gotta figure how to get us out of this pickled mess.” 

  Gypsy was a lightning-flash trigger in the ring, common sense as they came on the ground. The last of Daddy’s savings had gone to buy the coppery red, thick-chested Quarter Horse.  “It’s only money, baby girl. No sense holdin’ on to it,” Buck had said, right after his diagnosis. He bought Daphne a sporty little convertible, too.

  Last season, she and Gypsy had made Buck proud, finishing eighth overall their first year in competition. And then he’d gotten sick. Real sick. Laid flat out in the hospital bed in his bedroom after Christmas, some of his last thoughts had been of her coming rodeo season: “Make it a good one, Daisy Mae,” he’d whispered, gasping for the next breath. “Make it a real good one, for your old man.”

  They’d buried him in on the fifth of January.

 
Hot wind ruffled the brim of Daisy’s battered Stetson. Mid-day sun beat her arms. The season opener kicked off in less than six hours. She had a cell phone, but Daphne was already at work and Gypsy couldn’t stay trailered in the hot sun. She’d have to ride the mare home, then walk back to sort out the chaos under the Chevy’s hood. A no-show at Willow Springs meant lost fees and no points.

 
Lordy, if I didn’t have bad luck, I’d have no luck.
It’ll take some kind of miracle to get back on the road tonight.
In the back of the trailer, Gypsy Girl shifted. 
I might as well scratch for the season! C’mon, Daddy!

 
Half-mourning, half-fuming, Daisy snatched her water bottle and wallet from the cab. The salt of bitter tears stung her eyes as she dropped the ramp and backed Gypsy Girl off the trailer. Arranging a blanket and saddle on the mare’s back, she cinched up, readying for her ride.

 
Then she heard the growl of a diesel engine coming from behind the ridge. Looking up, she watched a white extra-cab dually crest the knoll. Flickery bright in the heat,  steel cattle guard blazing, its wheels threw puffs of sand from the road. And sure enough, the big white truck towed a newly-washed five-horse gooseneck trailer.

  Recognizing the broad-shouldered outline behind the tinted windshield, she groaned.
So on top of a lost season, I get a nice dose of humiliation, too?
Hobble Creek ranchers always pitched in to help each other out of bad spots, but Hank Gallagher was a different matter altogether, as far as Daisy was concerned.

  Hank pulled up alongside her rig, his big engine humming. The driver’s window dropped, and he raised his stupid, techie-boy mirrored shades. Steely blue eyes darted to the steam still puffing from the ancient Chevy’s hood before they settled on her, cool as the air-conditioning blowing from the vents of his brand-new truck.

  He arranged his lips, not hiding his grin too well.

  “Truck broke down, Daisy? You ridin’ to Willow Springs? Barrels start at ten tomorrow morning. Take you awhile to get there, huh?” 

  Daisy swallowed, sand gritting her tongue. Dusty and messy and already beat, she bit off her words. “Radiator or water pump’s busted, Hank. Won’t know which ‘til it cools. This sun’s too hot for Gypsy Girl. We’re headin’ back.”

   “Aw, you tell Gypsy Girl I’ve got room in my trailer for her. Cuervo won’t mind the company, and it’s nice and cool back there.” His eyes skittered over her. “There’s a seat up here next to me, if you want it, Daisy Mae.”

    Daisy stood there, hating the tight spot she was in and hating Hank even worse.
How dare he call me “Daisy Mae”! He knows that was Daddy’s name for me!

  Her head started to spin. She chewed the inside of her mouth. Sweat trickled between her breasts and down her back. Ignoring a fly buzzing around her face, she crossed her arms. “Aw, hell, Hank Gallagher, you’ve got no time for me.”

  Hank dropped his stupid action-hero glasses, and his chapped lips twisted. “I’ll admit your attitude sucks, but you and Gypsy are due for a helluva season, Daisy Mae. I’d hate for you to miss the opener. There won’t be another rig comin’ this way headin’ for Willow Springs, y’know.”

  Daisy stood stock still. Her mouth felt dry.

  Finally, Hank slapped his shades on the dash and swung his big white door open. Fancy black alligator boots hit the dust, and his long, denim-clad legs ambled around to the back of the expensive rig.

  His beefy arms stretched, unhitching the trailer’s rear door. It dropped to the ground with a thud; an air-conditioned, thick-rubber padded, non-stop, free ride to Willow Springs.

  Save’s me gas money, but it’s hell on the ego.

 
Hank spit impatiently, and a stream of tobacco juice hit the dusty yellow road. Daisy
stared hard at that dark stain, trying to keep her head clear.
“Can I take the ride and keep on hating you?”

  Hank’s mouth twitched. His lips spread, and white teeth flashed above his tobacco-lumped chin. “Long as you’re quiet about it. No mean looks, either. Gypsy and Cuervo will get along fine, I expect.”