Cowboys and Kisses – Historical Romance – eBook
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Cowboys and Kisses by Karin Kallmaker. A historical romance where the women save themselves – and each other. I Heart Sapphic Historical Romance of the Year!
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The Story...
A one-way stage ticket to the frontier leaves a young woman penniless and alone in Long Grass, Wyoming. With no other hope than to survive another day, she takes up the only profession open to her. Years later she encounters the cowboy she can love, and her first taste of pleasure - and happiness.
Cowboys, however, are born to wander, and their kisses are as brief as the lives of young women without family or means. Accepting that her days will be numbered too few, Darlin' escapes into her scribblings where her dreams of freedom can soar over the limitless prairie.
When she recognizes her own truth and a chance for love in the longing gaze of a townswoman, will she finally find kisses she can trust?
Two determined women in a hostile world save themselves — and each other — in a lyric, sensual love story as only Karin Kallmaker can tell.
What People are Saying:
- Cowboys and Kisses Audio at The Lesbian ReviewThe emotions flowed through the narration as clearly as if Etter was the girl telling me her story.
- Cowboys and Kisses Highly Recommended – The Lesbian Review…Searching for a touching and steamy historical romance with fully fleshed out characters, then look no further…this is the perfect story for you!
- Cowboys and Kisses Reviewed at Lez Review BooksA fine balance between romance and reality . . . intimate scenes are beautifully appropriate for the period.
- Cowboys and Kisses Audio at Lez Review BooksVery good narration for an excellent novella. 4.5 stars.
- A Gift of Romance and Evolution – Cowboy and KissesOverall, I really enjoyed the read, so much so that the epilogue brought a tear to my eye. It was just so cute.
- Satisfying and Cathartic – Cowboys and Kisses5 stars! So, so satisfying and cathartic to see that they were allowed to have their happy ending!
- Cowboys and Kisses Reviewed at Jude in the StarsThis is a very interesting book, as much for the story as because of who wrote it. There’s not a single second of doubt that ...
- Cowboys and Kisses Voted Historical Romance of the Year!I Heart SapphFic readers have voted Cowboys and Kisses the historical romance of the year!
- Harsh Realities Carried Gently in Sensuous Prose – Cowboy and KissesLimited and often harsh options of unattached women were starkly depicted but carried gently in an almost sensuous prose…
- Cowboys and Kisses – Very Pleased with the Ending!At times heartbreaking, but overall hopeful, I really loved Darlin’s story and was very pleased with the ending.
- Reader Comments about Cowboys and KissesThe heat of a prairie fire and the bold passion these women share is portrayed in vivid, poetic language.
Learn more:
- words : 41000
- Excerpt - Our Story Begins Here
Chapter 1
EVERY TIME THE big front door opened the wind blew in dust and a cowboy.
Cherry predicted we’d have twice the customers a week from now, when the fall drive reached its peak. As it was, with only the leading edges of the herds arriving in the waning days of late summer, the rooms were turning over three and four times a night. Cowboys entered flush with their season’s pay. Whiskey, a bath, and an hour or two of female company was all they had on their minds.
I kept my attention on my needlework. The door opened, there was a scuff of boots, and my unfashionable brown curls were overlooked again when the customer made his choice. Sooner or later I’d have to go upstairs. Cherry wasn’t running a sanctuary. She’d told us all that more than once, and I had no wish to have her do the picking for me.
The next time the wind blew in a customer I stole a quick glance. Not a cowboy this time, a local. Jinny caught his eye with a decisive gesture that warned the rest of us to keep in our places. Like most locals he wanted what a missus had no time or energy to give — a sympathetic ear and a quick tumble. In this case, the missus had passed. I’d have not minded being his choice. Jinny smiled and laughed all the way up the narrow stairs, her lively face a contrast to the faded roses in the wallpaper.
I smoothed the sewing floss and added a few more stitches to the kerchief I was needlessly embellishing. Needlework looked both industrious and genteel, but I only labored at it when there were customers in the parlor. I worried inside that I’d missed my best guest for the night. There were locals who weren’t nearly so easy to please. With the beginnings of the cattle drive in town there also were strangers whose needs were unknown and hard to anticipate. I showed ample curves as I worked under the brightest lamp, but compared to some of the other girls, I was not prime livestock.
Given a choice, what customer wouldn’t pick Angel over there, with her shining blond curls, air of innocence, and exuberant smile? She’d been here a year and it didn’t show. This cattle drive was the fourth I’d seen and, at seventeen, the years that didn’t show in my face were revealed in my eyes.
Angel was a nice enough girl. She drew customers easily, had worked her way to the best room in the house and could take off for blood days even. Since talking wasn’t what most guests wanted, few realized she was not just illiterate — most of the girls couldn’t read or cipher — but her common sense could fit in a pea. As Cherry said, she’d known turkeys smarter than Angel. No turkey ever made Cherry the money that Angel did, however, and in this place that is what counted.
I had all my brains, and what did they get me? If I did not have some additional use because I knew my letters and numbers, my earnings would not be enough to pay for the room where I made my money. As it was my meals were curtailed, both from my lack of earnings, and because Cherry was certain I would grow fat the older I got. Curves were valued at bosom and hip, but not at the waist.
I raised my face when the door next opened and felt my expression freeze stiff as a winter wash basin. Otis, the black boy who fetched water and whiskey and sometimes played the piano in the evenings, paused momentarily, then resumed his jaunty tune. All the girls found someplace else to look. Loomis — first name or last, I didn’t know. Trying to call no attention to myself I slowly refocused on my needlework, listening to the exchange between him and Cherry.
“Back so soon? We’re honored of course,” she said as she rose to greet him.
“Can’t disappoint the ladies,” he answered.
I knew he was staring at each of us, and I willed myself not to look up. Not me, I prayed. Please not me. I’d had several appointments with Loomis and didn’t want to repeat any aspect of them. He was a month of bad news rolled into a single hour. He hadn’t been pleased with me anyway, though like all men he got the finale he wanted. The last time his earlier displeasures had been part of what he’d wanted to tell me all about.
“We’ve got a fine variety tonight.”
He made a show of examining his horseflesh before venturing to buy. “I might take myself two.”
That was a relief. It would go easier for both.
“Tell me,” Cherry said, her tone like sugar water, “that little girl you took in, Milla? How did she work out?”
His tone roughened with scorn. “Well, after I fed her and cleaned her up, gave her a warm place to sleep and treated her like family, she wandered off one night. Found her a few days later by following vultures. The thanks I get when she’d have starved all the sooner without me.”
I caught back a noise of distress that would have attracted everyone’s attention. Milla had been in the room next to mine until something had gone wrong with her. Cherry called it Prairie Madness, but it had started after she’d been sent out to a party for the first arrivals in this year’s cattle drive. Entertaining a group was one way Cherry could boost a girl’s earnings if she was unpopular with the house customers. Milla had been older than me, nearly twenty, and cost Cherry a doctor’s fee.
Needing the doctor to end the frequent by-product of our profession had become Cherry’s constant complaint since the Comstock Law had made it impossible to acquire French letters. They were too dear for most men to afford regardless, but none of us had seen any for going on a year now. The doctor made more money off of Cherry than anyone else in town.
Just a few days after Milla’s visit from the doctor, she’d been sent to entertain the first-arrived cowboys and drovers and come back to her room not the same. She wouldn’t smile. Couldn’t smile. We have to smile, I had warned her. Milla wasn’t stupid, and I liked her. She’d been nice to me when I’d first arrived.
But she wouldn’t listen to me and as predictable as sunrise, Cherry put her out. Milla had just folded in on herself and huddled at the back door, like a horse that knows it has no run left.
I’d tried to slip her food out the door with a tin of water at least once a day, but when Loomis noticed that she was on the street, he’d taken her with him. I’d seen him half-carry her to the wagon. The stupid, hopeless girl. She could have offered herself to a farmer for the harvest work and anything else the hands might want. At least that would have meant a nook in the barn and food. There was a chance that after harvest was done the wife wouldn’t have run Milla off if she’d proved herself useful for anything. Another girl had told me she knew of a girl who’d been taken in by a family because she knew how to butcher, of all things.
It was a hope at least, while staying outside Cherry’s back door was no hope — if not Loomis, someone else. Men like Loomis were the end.
I blinked back tears, thinking of Milla wandering in the tall grass, no path to help in sight. I didn’t want that future but every year the cattle drive seemed to make it more unavoidable. But I wouldn’t go to Loomis. I’d plow fields with my bare hands before Loomis.
“Some girls haven’t any sense.” Cherry turned slowly to look over the room herself.
Not me, I prayed again, more fervently. Please not me.
“I’d not had use of her anywhere near what I spent to feed her up.” Loomis made further grousing noises, as if Cherry was responsible for her cast-off property, and I knew what Cherry would do.
“Teena and Jade, you show our guest here upstairs, won’t you?”
Not Angel, she was too valuable. Teena and Jade were the next prettiest girls there were and that would silence Loomis’s complaints. He’d have whined further about his lost food in Milla’s stomach had Cherry chosen the likes of me.
I was weak with relief. Luck was not something I counted on, though, and I knew I’d have to make an effort to earn more than an hour tonight. Milla had been silly to put herself at Loomis’s mercy.
The door blew open again and I looked up, too wary to actually hope for a decent enough local man, like Jinny’s regular. This cowboy was on the small side, saddlebags and coiled whip slung over one shoulder, very dirty, but as full of bravado as the lot of them. Along with a gust of dust the air was now laden with the strong stink of horse and cow.
A few of those swaggering steps inside the parlor, however, and I knew that I wanted that dark gaze to seek out mine. But like so many, it turned instead to the yellow curls and voluptuous promise that Angel offered as she leaned over the piano.
Otis didn’t know Chopin from Mozart, but I could hum a little of something and he’d pick it up right away and make it a tune of his own. I sometimes wished I remembered more from the family years to add to his repertoire. Mostly he played campfire tunes and church music everyone knew, at a joyful pace that added to the sparkle of the lamplight. Just then the tune was sweet, as sweet as Angel’s welcoming expression.
The new cowboy came to a stop mid-room. A glance at Cherry, who nodded permission, brought an easy nod in return. Otis stopped playing as the cowboy took two steps nearer to Angel.
With a charming half-bow, the cowboy gestured at Otis but never stopped looking at Angel, who was smiling back an anticipatory yes. The girl hadn’t a brain in her head, and likely didn’t know what I — and Cherry no doubt — had figured out at the cowboy’s first step.
“Please,” the cowboy said to Otis, in a voice thickened by trail dust. “‘If music be the food of love…’”
Angel simpered. Otis looked confused.
My needlework tight in my hands, I said smoothly, “‘If music be the food of love, play on.’”
The cowboy swung round to face me.
Dark eyes studied me, and I returned the favor with my own intensity as I added, “Duke Orsino, Twelfth Night, act one, scene one, line one.”
“This girl,” the cowboy said to Cherry, pointing at me. In a voice softened by anticipation, she added, “For the night.”
I rose with all the grace I could muster and took her upstairs.
Author's Notes
The West is probably one of the most romanticized eras in American literature and film. The love affair with wide open skies and rugged jawlines tended to leave out the survival odds, especially for women and girls. And of course mostly overlooked the realities of the indigenous people who already lived under those skies.
When I wrote the novella in 2007, the reality of how brutal and unforgiving conditions were for females without the protection of man or marriage was foremost in my mind. I considered writing two endings to the story - my first concept of a conclusion more realistic and yet triumphant in spirit, versus a true happy ever after. I decided then to stay closer to my original vision of the story.
In this updated version, which has turned into a short novel, the happy-ever-after ending finally sees the light of day. Two determined and smart women in a hostile world save themselves — and each other.

Reviews
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Karin Kallmaker –
The date is actually 12/23/2022. I backdated it so this entry would appear first for future visitors.
The winners have been chosen by a random number generator. You’ll all get an email from “StoreSprite” @kallmaker.com to the address you used to comment. It will have the coupon code for you to use to claim your download. If you don’t see the email, please check your spam folder!
Kristin
Shay
Sloan
Karen L. (Again! Woot!)
Lynn H.
Congratulations!
Karin Kallmaker –
Thanks for dropping by! This is the place to enter to win a free download of the Cowboy and Kisses ebook. Comment with your favorite thing about historical movies or books. Is it the clothes? The horses? Unconventional women? Harkening to “simpler” times?
I like the idea that everything was truly hand-made which meant no matter where you looked, you were looking at someone’s craft work. Check out this chest with the carvings of the family crest and slogan “Be Mindful.” It’s from Castle Cawdor in Scotland.
Kristin Charles –
I don’t usually watch or read historical movies or read history books. I have come across a handful of books I’ve actually enjoyed. I think that’s the best when a book will surprise me.
Karin Kallmaker –
I love being surprised by books> The last few years, though, I’ve been focused on comfort reads – don’t need surprises at the moment!
Myra Sloan –
I have this ebook and really enjoyed the way it was written. I think you did an excellent job and it was fun that the style was so different that your others!
Karin Kallmaker –
Thank you so much, Myra!
Shay Coker –
I love that it makes you really feel like you’re in that time or moment. You get to feel everything they lived and went through. I truly love the simpler times of it all.
Karin Kallmaker –
I think the time spent simply staying alive and having a next meal does simplify the world.
Maggie –
I like learning about people’s lives in the past, but not in a preachy or overly factual way, like reading non-fiction. I say I’m not an historical fiction fan, but I always end up enjoying every historical fiction romance I read. Who knew?
Karin Kallmaker –
I have enjoyed the little bit of historical fiction that I’ve written, so much so, that I’m planning on more.
Sloan –
I love history (looking at the world from a different perspective) and I love how lesbian authors see strong women taking their place in said world…
Karin Kallmaker –
We existed then, but our stories weren’t told. I love finding “us” when I read history.
Christine Reid –
I love how they talk back then with proper grammar ect
Karin Kallmaker –
When I was writing this story I was fairly certain that American TV had probably not captured any of the regional accents or vernaculars correctly.
Lyn Denison –
I’ve been researching my family history for many years and I love reading through old census returns. When I see an entry like ‘Mary Smith, aged 82, widow, char woman’, I can spend ages wondering about her everyday life. There’s such a story in that basic entry.
Karin Kallmaker –
That’s very evocative, isn’t it?
Shai –
I love seeing the architecture of the day, the simpler way of living.
Karin Kallmaker –
On exteriors, the way front doors are situated always fascinates me. On the interior, it’s how the kitchen and dining spaces work in relation to each other always tells a tale about everyday life.
Karen –
I like to check out the clothes styles in historical movies.
Karin Kallmaker –
Me too! I sometimes imagine having some grand court ball gown and then I realize it probably weighed 50 pounds and I’m okay with just imagining wearing it. 🙂
Penny Mabie –
I love historical novels. I learn a lot from them, about the period, the location, etc. My mother was totally into them and passed her love on to me. Write more, please.
Karin Kallmaker –
Okay!
Lynn Heilesen –
Experiences of life in a different time, trying to step into the shoes of the characters in books especially.
Karin Kallmaker –
I sometimes wonder what it was like in a world before aspirin, let alone ibuprofen. No wonder lots of people were sloshed by 6 p.m.!
Ruth Simon –
The handcrafted goods are definitely a draw when reading historical works. And also, learning tidbits I didn’t know about a place or era that the author can bring to life. And the “lost knowledge” of those eras.
Karin Kallmaker –
I love the historical tidbits!