About Light a Rocket
Author: Julia Talbot
Word Count: 20100
Page Count (pdf): 80
Series: Midnight Rodeo (Book 4)
Genre: Western/ Paranormal
Date Published: 06/06/2017 second edition.
Publisher: Turtlehat Creatives
File Types available: pdf, mobi, epub
Love is possible when the spirits move you.
Skinwalker Raven Walkingman is the number one cowboy at the Darque and Knight rodeo, at the top of his game. He has his animal spirit guides, good friends, and a fancy trailer. Raven prefers casual relationships, so when Rocket starts talking mates as shifters do, Raven pulls up the stakes. He doesn’t need to fall for a ragtag cheetah.
Cat shifter Rocket is fast, but he only has so many lives left, and he spends more time injured than not. He’s the worst rider in the Darque and Knight rodeo. Raven’s spirit guides adore him, though, and are more than happy to support him in his work and pursuit of Raven.
Raven and Rocket seem like an unlikely match, and sometimes it takes an otherworldly guide to make it right.
“Rocket, you cannot keep this up, kid.” Thack, the head of all things in the Darque and Knight arena, looked bitchy on the best of days, but the stock contractor was positively livid. The huge black horns curving over his head actually sort of pulsed. Cool. Terrifying, but cool.
“Keep what up?” Rocket went for innocent. It wasn’t his best look, but it was rare enough around these parts that he thought it could work.
“Kid, you weigh, what? Eighty pounds?”
“Stop it. I’m at least a buck and a ten-spot.” Pretty much.
“You can’t bulldog. You can’t do the timed events. Stop being a turd with a death wish. You rile up the stock.” Thack stomped a foot, and the sound of a steel-shod hoof rang out.
Rocket tried hard not to let his hurt show. Or his panic. He had to make some money. Had to. “I’m not trying to upset anyone. I’m bulking up, I promise.”
“Bulking… okay. Okay. You get one more chance, but the physics say it can’t work.”
“Physics say the girls can’t ride the barrels and they sure as shit do.”
“Mmm.” Thack was good at the noncommittal noise. “Well, just do me a favor and don’t get hurt.”
“Right. I’m on it. Totally.” Hell, he wasn’t sure his three broken ribs were ever going to recover. They did tend to stick out. Rocket was a cheetah shifter. Ribs were a thing.
“I’m serious. One more catastrophe on the timed events and I’m sending you to Eshelman.”
The shifter doc was… intense. Difficult, at best. Strict. Rocket just nodded, feeling like a bobblehead doll.
He slunk past the bullfighters, the scary as all fuck ghost riders, and then headed to his truck. He thought he was safely out of everyone’s way, which was naturally when he slammed right into a solid, lanky body.
“Whoa, kiddo. Watch where you’re putting those boots down.” Raven Walkingman caught his upper arms when he bounced.
“I. I—” Oh, God. God. That was— He’d just bumped into… Right. Breathe. “Sorry.”
That bronze face split into a wide, white smile, the king of the Midnight Rodeo not seeming at all put out. “No problem. Rocket, right?”
“Yeah. Yes, sir. Rocket Ugara.” He held out his hand, the urge to sniff this man overwhelming. He panted a tiny bit, his usual reaction to stress more than a little embarrassing.
Walkingman shook his hand, making shivers run up his arm and down his back. Hello. So sexy, this one. So unconsciously perfect.
His kitty purred inside him, its tail lashing, and he had the urge to do his best sexy dance. Rocket fought that compunction, but he couldn’t cover it completely, obviously. Walkingman’s nose quivered, and he grinned wider.
“You riding tomorrow?” Rocket asked. He had to stop being an idiot. You didn’t come onto the most famous cowboy in their world. It didn’t happen.
“I am. What about you?” Walkingman let him go, the lack of touch such a disappointment.
“Gotta make my pennies, so yeah. Totally.”
“Well, watch those ribs. I was you, I’d sit out the bulldogging this week.”
“Yeah. Thack was pretty clear about that.” Still, he needed to get enough cash for gas to make it to the next event and pay his entry fees.
“Then why are you still doing it?” The man sounded genuinely curious.
“Same reason every broke-dick cowboy does it, I reckon.” And didn’t he feel about two inches tall admitting that?
“Oh, yeah. I remember those days.” Walkingman tilted his head as if hearing something Rocket didn’t. “You eat today?”
He didn’t say a word, but his burning cheeks must have answered. It had been three days now, close to four. He was so hungry he could probably run down a wildebeest and eat the whole thing.
“Shit. No wonder you can’t down a steer. Come on. Let me take you to the kitty court.”
When Rocket put his head down to protest, Walkingman ignored him, hand on his back to steer him.
The touch made him want to yowl, to bare his teeth and growl. He shivered again, his cock hard and aching, his body betraying him so quickly. Raven Walkingman was his wet dream.