Paying some visits in northwest Oklahoma last year, I ignored everybody’s advice and got a motel room by myself where I wanted to be. I’ll honor my hunches forever, after that.
A freezing cold wind was blasting over the wheat fields and whooshing down the streets of the town. Where all the tumbleweeds came from I’ll never know. But they were floating and bobbing down every sidewalk.
It didn’t take much to keep me indoors, so I looked around at the people who’d be riding out the storm with me. I glanced one way and stopped. This guy was a new breed and I was going to write about him.
I instantly named him ‘Titus.’ He was lounging across the night clerk’s desk in a gorgeous languid manly way. They were reminiscing about the tornadoes that regularly flattened his part of OKC.
I listened to him and watched for a couple of hours. Then I went to my room, cranked up my laptop and wrote what I saw. I haven’t stopped.
Titus & Cody were electric. Not too many people spin through life at such a blinding, unfathomable speed. They were vital; they lived like every second was precious. It all mattered!
They were life-givers. Family, friends, clients and strangers somehow depended on them to keep things going.
They both grew up in OK, but his mom plopped him outside her hillbilly uncle’s shack.
After Titus’s mother got rid of him, she didn’t even glance at her baby. Didn’t look over her shoulder to worry if her uncle was even alive any more. She washed her hands of Titus, forever.
His uncle was still alive and his shack was full of his own kids. But Uncle Slim shared what he had and looked on Titus as part of his life. Slim knew perfectly well who the baby’s mother was.
Cody had a much easier life – at least until she got to high school. Her folks were deeply-respected doctors in a small town. When she was 15 her folks lost most of their money.
Cody worked at the dime store and they piled into a couple of rooms above the general store. Cody’s folks were thankful for all she was doing, but the shock was too much for them, after owning one of the finest homes in the state. They died not long after that.
As a child, Titus saw the sacrifices Slim made to keep him. He paid his way and continued while he grew into a man. He went to the local school, but he also worked. Hard.
He took any ranch work he could find. He was tall and got taller. His muscles filled his chest, arms, every inch of his body.
First he built fences, stabbing post hole diggers through the hard red mountain. Ranch life was easy after that, even if it meant being a cowboy on some other family’s ranch.
Then he found the work he loved: the Oklahoma oilfields. He took on every job there, if the company would allow it or not. He also made contacts all across the US and even in a few foreign countries where he worked.
Unfortunately, Titus thought, oil field men had a bad rep and no amount of money would make it disappear. People are fine if I don’t ask much from them.
Even walking on the same side of the street as an oil worker was breaking some kind of small-town code. I’ll never forget town people crossing the street to avoid me or one of my buds. I think the final insult came with these words hollered by gangs of town kids. they’d probably learned it from their folks.
Oil field cash
Oil field trash!
Our money’s fine in their stores, but that’s what they really think of us. Well, that’s OK.
But Titus never forgot his plan and this made him to stick to it.
When he figured he knew enough, he stopped working on rigs. No more ugly words following him. He moved to Oklahoma City and started an oil consulting firm.
That year he got wealthy.
He usually wore hand-tailored suits when he visited a client. The day he was trapped in that motel, though, he wore western.
Cody was restless and annoyed. Why am I stuck in Enid, OK while a tornado blows through?
She looked around the motel but her eyes froze on one man.
Cody knew a man of quality when she saw one. Handsome and strong, sure, but he had to be brave, too, and fun. Her ears tingled when the clerk said the guy’s name. “Sure thing, Titus.”
Cody was getting interested. Well, this Titus is hot. His muscles round out his jeans and his cowboy shirt is tight across his chest. But I just know he’s rich: those boots alone would cost a fortune.
Listening to him talk about the tornado belt where he lived, she knew that he was several rungs beyond her up the property ladder. His house and office, the barns and horses, the boats and vehicles. But something told that her that this hot rich dude fit in nowhere.
That’s the first 650 words, the free part.
I’ve written a clean romance. I focus on the budding love between Cody and Titus and how the love-explosions take control. Despite al that, these two have some hills to climb, believe me.
The writing is tight and tension is high. So is the sensuality. Like every good love story, there’s a beginning, middle and a HEA. I’m happy, too, and I’m proud of my work.
This is a work in progress, but I know where we’re going. My goal is to have camera-ready copy prepared before March 1, 2018.
I’ll keep writing you here, telling you where to find the book while I’m writing it, if that’s needed. I’ve included you all as co-creators of Sexy Oil Field Lover. I like to think of my readers enjoying themselves with my books, too, and critiquing them when they can.
You might not care about this, but the Creative Writer in me cares. I heard that beautiful Okie small town talk and I wrote it, just different enough so the reading’s as smooth as silk.
Country people down there are pretty dramatic, and their words seem to haunt those piney woods.
And know what? The waitress really does call you ‘Baby.’
So the idea came to me, watching this gorgeous dude in a motel lobby during a tornado. Thank you for reading my new book.
All the Best!
But why don’t you just call me ‘Julie’?