It’s Humpday! Let’s Have Sales, Lots of Sales!

What was she thinking?

Well, she’s looking to spread the love for the Crow Creek gang, for starters. Books 1-3 are best read in sequence but Books 4 and 5 are true standalones (with recurring characters, and I promise, you can keep up).

Genre: M/M, homoerotic lit, gay romance, western

These are on sale 50% off,  ARe/OmniLit from 6/25-30. Available formats include mobi, PDF and epub.


SORTING WILL (A Crow Creek Novel)

Will Halliday is determined to stake his claim on furthering his career and developing a specialized veterinary practice out west. With help from Ben Kincaid, a friend with benefits, he sees the move as going to a better life, not running from narrow-minded colleagues and past disappointments.  The problem with that new life is that it’s looking more like self-imposed exile than liberation.

Sam Turner is settled in his profession, fast-tracked for the ultimate advancement. To get there he has to bury his secrets so deeply that only Ash MacBryde knows the truth.  Living a lie is never easy, but the rewards, for a time, seem worth it, until Sam meets Will in the rodeo arena and everything changes.

Drawn together, Will, Sam and Ben tangle with their explosive emotions and the ties that bind them to secrets, lies and promises made in the heat of the night.


Halliday’s mare was big as a brick shithouse, a reject from team penning according to Ash’s new hand, Ben Kincaid. She’d been too slow, too bulky and just too damn big for anybody but an NBA basketball player. But in this sport, the old girl had found her calling.

“She’s the wall, Halliday. Just let her bulldoze that fu—” Sam bit his lip as Will tossed him a sly grin. That faded fast as the mare planted on a challenge from the steer and held her ground, the movement so solid and abrupt, Will nearly went ass-first over the horse’s head. The oomph as the tall man connected with the saddle horn had Sam grimacing in sympathy.

He whispered, “You might need ice on that, son.” Followed by a warm-up, or a massage. Later. Shit, keep your head in the game, Turner. You didn’t come here to get involved.



FLANKMAN (A Crow Creek Novel)

The bronc in the arena can kill, but it takes a man to destroy…

Daniel Blake and Tristan Wells are committed to their two-year relationship, and to keeping it a well-hidden secret. When a competitor lets them know their secret isn’t so well-hidden after all, the ground isn’t the only thing that comes up to hit hard. Danny’s facing scrutiny from rodeo management for alleged misconduct, and Tristan thinks that Ben Kincaid from Crow Creek Ranch is just the man to help ferret out who has it in for them. Wyoming isn’t known for being tolerant of “alternative lifestyles” and men who take on broncs and bulls for a living aren’t strangers to playing rough, in and out of the arena.

With their future on the line, Tristan and Danny’s relationship will be tested by those out to see an eight-second ride turn into a world of failure. Ben’s determined to have his new friends’ backs, in more ways than one. Even if they survive the spills and attacks, will Danny and Tris’s future survive Ben?


He had a plan, Stan. Part of his excitement at hauling ass and getting away with Tristan was to run his crazy idea past the man he loved beyond reason. They’d talked about it a little, in fits and starts as they said, but now he wanted to dump the teakettle, see how much change fell out. See if his dream, and Tristan’s, could come together somehow.

He had friends, friends of friends, who’d made it work, made staying together possible, even acceptable. The problem was… Tristan was still on the upswing, moving to a beat that had a bead on Vegas and the Nationals. The lure of the biggest buckle of all, the heavyweight championship, glory, money, fame, respect. It was there for the taking, and the way Tristan was riding this year, karma said it was his time. The Championship was his to win or lose.

Danny was down with that. He backed Tristan a thousand percent and more. His lover was twenty-six, right at the peak of his athletic ability, his body yet to play him false. Bronc riding was arguably the toughest sport on a man’s body, period, full stop. Tristan had already racked up a file full of broken bones, torn this, that and the other. Without any body fat to cushion the falls, he took it harder than most, even with the protective vest he wore at Danny’s insistence.

What made it odd was him caring more than Tristan about the championship. He’d been the one to send in the entry forms, setting up the schedule that kept them apart for weeks on end, seeing an end game that had Tristan fulfilling a dream his lover claimed not to have. Danny was convinced he’s seen through that. Despite Tris’ willingness to sacrifice his God-given talent for a life with an older, broke-down cowboy in the name of love, Danny thought he had a little better perspective. He liked looking big picture, seeing into future possibilities … not that he had a sterling track record, but so far it’d kept him anchored enough to handle the commitment they’d settled on.

That commitment was the most worthwhile thing in his life. He and Tris had love; they’d owned it for the last two years. In secret. And nothing that had taken place before or since they’d said the words, “I love you,” meant squat. But Danny understood a young man’s passions, maybe better than most. He saw how his brothers ended up, how he’d struggled to make something of himself. He understood sacrifice, what it meant, its hard edges and what it took from a man. It didn’t always turn out the way you expected. And it wasn’t always worth it, if you measured it in material terms. On the flip side, he also didn’t buy sacrifice as its own reward. But he did see, at the ripe old age of thirty-five, that a man made his own destiny, if he could just see a way forward. And if he couldn’t?

Hell, that was why God invented bulldozers…

He and Tristan might not be able to have it all, but to have something… If anyone was going to sacrifice, it was going to be him.

About Nya Rawlyns

Crossing boundaries, taking no prisoners. Write what’s in your soul. It’s the bass beat, the heartbeat, the lyrics rude and true. Nya Rawlyns is the pseudonym of a writer who cut her teeth on sports-themed romantic comedy and historical romances before finding her true calling in the wilderness areas she has visited but calls “home” in that place that counts the most: the heart. She has lived in the country and on a sailboat on the Chesapeake Bay, earned more than 1000 miles in competitive trail and endurance racing, taught Political Science to unwilling freshmen, and found an avocation in materials science. When she isn’t tending to her garden or the horses, the cats, or two pervert parakeets, she can be found day dreaming and listening to the voices in her head.
This entry was posted in Blog. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Gravatar Logo

You are commenting using your account. ( Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. ( Log Out / Change )


Connecting to %s