Cowboy Dreams

The right man for a longtime cowboy might be a city slicker.

Joe
I’ve been going into Max’s Place for twenty years, but tonight’s different. There’s a stranger at the bar with city-fancy clothes, wide shoulders, and the face of a fallen angel. I’m just an ordinary cowhand. Being gay’s the most noteworthy thing about me, so I don’t expect much. But when his eyes light on mine and he invites me to ride in his classic ’67 Mustang, I figure what the hell. If he’s a serial killer, what a way to go. And if he’s not, then a couple of my cowboy dreams might finally come true.

Sylvester
I grew up here in these Colorado foothills, but I haven’t been back since I was ten. Now I’ve inherited my grandfather’s neglected ranch, and I can’t decide whether to sell it or stay. I stop in at the only gay bar in fifty miles, wondering if I can have a decent life as an out gay man in this county. And there coming in the door is the kind of tall, lean, working cowboy who pushes all my buttons. I don’t know if Joe will be a reason to stay or a one night stand, but I’m going to have fun tonight.

Cowboy Dreams is a 36,000 word novella about two solitary men in their 40s figuring out how unexpectedly well they fit together, in bed and out of it.