HE’S MY OIL FIELD LOVER – Dec. 2017

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 the 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. Cody’s folks were deeply-respected doctors in a small town.  Her folks lost most of their money and died not long after that.

After Titus’s mother got rid of him, she didn’t look once over her shoulder. She washed her hands of her baby, forever.

Titus paid his way as a child and as 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.  Cowboy work was easy after that.  Then he found the work he loved: the Oklahoma oilfields. He worked at every job there, if the company would allow it. He also made contacts all across the US and even in a few foreign countries where he’d worked.

Unfortunately, oil field men had a bad rep and no amount of money would make it disappear.  Titus never forgot town people crossing the street to avoid him or the other oil field workers. Or when he heard their jeering kids behind him. He knew they might’ve learned those cat calls at home.

oil  field  cash

oil field trash!

 

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.

She saw him first.  And he was hot.  His muscles rounded out his jeans and his cowboy shirt was tight across his chest.  Then, he looked rich: those boots could’ve cost a fortune.

Listening to him talk about the tornado belt where 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 free part.

This is a clean or sweet romance.  I focus on the budding love between Cody and Titus and the love-explosions taking control. The writing is tight and tension is high.

Like every good love story, there’s a beginning, middle and a HEA.  I’m happy and I’m proud of my work.

The beginning up to Cody’s pov at the end is still in omniscient but her small section is already in 3rd. I’ll keep writing, telling  you where to find the book when it’s in progress.  I like to think of my readers enjoying themselves with my books and  critiquing them.

You might not care about this, but the Creative Writer in me cares. I heard it and I wrote it.   I caught the local talk, which is great for spinning a story. It’s very dramatic, haunting those piney woods and no where else.  People in southern Oklahoma talk like this.  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!

Julia Bates

But why don’t you just call me ‘Julie’?

 

 

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