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BIO
“Romance...the Way You Dream It”
Lynda Coker lives in the rolling hills of East Texas with her favorite alpha-male, her husband of 44 years. A voracious reader, she decided to try writing the type of stories she loved to read. With the attitude that "It's Never Too Late,” she started a second career at the age of 55. She made a five year plan to become published. Five years later, to the month, she realized her goal.
She strives to pen a story that takes her breath away, speaks to the princess in her heart, and the warrior in her soul. Lynda peels back the layers that obscure the emotion we call love. She believes her readers choose romance, not to explore the physical, but rather, the compelling desire of their hearts.
"Physical love is a glorious gift," she says, "but without the heights and depths of the emotional journey, it is a mere reflection of what could have been..." Mrs. Coker’s debut story, Payback in Wayback, part of The Wild Rose Press’ Wayback, Texas Series, spent 12 weeks on the publishers Bestseller List.
Blurb: From Payback in Wayback
Corey Donovan has just spent twelve years in a Texas prison for a crime he didn’t commit. Now he’s a man bent on getting a little payback. And who better to start with than the recently widowed Mrs. Tiffany Covington?
Tiffany is both thrilled and afraid when she discovers Corey has returned to the small West Texas town of Wayback. She’s ready to repay old debts…question is…will Corey accept her currency of exchange?
Excerpt:
He pushed through the curtains leading to the rear of the plywood platform, loosely called a stage, and picked up his guitar. Telli was giving him an intro. It wasn’t much of one, just “Here’s Corey.” He sauntered forward with the confidence that familiar places gave a man, rested his booted foot on a low stool, and adjusted his guitar. He always took a moment before his first set to look over the audience, see what kind of crowd he was playing to.
Adrenaline revved his heartbeat to maximum, and the tightness in his throat threatened to choke him. Tiffany Covington sat at the center table with a young boy and two other couples. By her horrified expression, he was sure she recognized him.
She had changed some. Her blonde hair was shorter and a little darker, more honey colored. He used to tease her about having hair the perfect shade of sun-glare. From what he could see, she had filled out a little in all the right places, though one thing had stayed the same. From across a room, her baby-blues could still twist a man’s gut. And as he knew all too well, at close quarters they could claim his soul.
He did the only thing he could. Standing on the stage, holding a bright red guitar, he sang straight into her eyes. His heart, the small part he still owned, ached with recognition. As he sang the lyrics of love gone bad, a truth he’d buried for over a decade rose upward like a bull rider heaved into the air. At eighteen, he’d foolishly given away his heart, and the woman at his feet still owned it.
“I’m nothing without you, come make me whole again.” The last words of the song coursed through his blood like 101 Proof Wild Turkey. As he played the final chords, he cursed the girl, his own weakness, and Wayback, Texas—where it all began.
Lynda Coker
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She was all elegance and grace, a Texas lady too good for the likes of him. Her daddy’s sentiments echoed through his head.
“Hello, Corey.”
Her throaty voice spread over him like warm butter.
“I’ve been expecting you.”
The familiarity of her smooth, southern tone pricked, as if barbed, when he remembered how many days and nights he’d lived on just the memory of it. He resented her calm graciousness, her social politeness, and most especially, the unspoken distance imposed in her manner. She had no right treating him like a stranger. The least she could do was fake an ounce of remorse or guilt. A little begging for his forgiveness would be more in order. Did she honestly think he was going to stand there and play lap dog to her princess act? Now was as good a time as any to set her straight.
“How do you think your social set will take to the news that you passed off my kid as one of their own? I’m thinking it will hit every news channel in four states, maybe more.”
He watched her face flush pink, and then settle back to a pale, translucent ivory. She stepped to
the side of the desk and rested a trembling hand on its corner.
“Please come in, Corey. Take a seat. Mrs. Stewart will be bringing coffee any moment. After that, we can talk without interruption.”
Her response proved how much she had changed, inside where it was hard for a man to detect. The girl he remembered would have run for cover at a remark like the one he’d just handed her. This was no girl. She was a mind-numbingly beautiful woman whose warm smile made him feel like a bad-mannered fool.
With a small turn of her hand, she indicated one of the leather, wing back chairs in front of the desk. He followed the gesture with his eyes, taking the time to take in the room’s dark, masculine furnishings. It was obvious that this had been her husband’s domain when alive. No woman would set herself against such surroundings by choice. Especially, if she realized that a petite, blonde-haired beauty dressed in yellow pants and white blouse would look like an ornament, a daisy perhaps. He reigned in his errant thoughts.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m not here to have tea, Princess.”
“It ain’t tea, young man.” The voice came from behind him, and then passed him to sit a serving tray on one of the side tables. “It’s strong black coffee. The kind that’s good for keeping a man’s tongue civil, if you know what I mean.”
************************************
Corey stopped breathing as his mind decoded the betrayal implied in her words. All this time, she’d had proof...?
He struck with the speed of a coiled snake, taking just two strides to reach her chair. Grabbing both her arms, he yanked her to her feet, his trembling hands circling her throat and pushing her head up. He wanted her to see the firestorm he knew was in his eyes.
“Please, Cor...Corey.”
Her eyes begged him to back off, but it was ten seconds too late as the scent of her perfume rushed over him. The feel and smell of her, so familiar, so mind-torturously painful, caused sweat to bead on his body. Desire, compounded by years of subjugation, burst through the bars of his restraint. He fought to push it back, to wipe out his weakness for this woman. A weakness that mocked him as a fireball of need burnt away the threads of his control, jumping every break he’d carefully set.
One hand moved purposefully up the back of her head. Silken threads of lavender scented hair clung to his fingers. He used the advantage to lift her mouth to his. Her gasp gave him instant access to her moist inner chamber. In a shadowed corner of his mind, he knew she struggled to free herself from his hold. He wanted to free himself as well. Instead, one traitorous hand slipped to the curve of her waist and drew her closer.
A voice penetrated his rage, and a body rammed into his back.
“Get away from my Mother!”
The words, effective as flame retardant, left Corey standing in the ashes of his scorched emotions. For the boy’s sake, he needed to do something and quick.
“It’s okay, boy.” The fists pummeling Corey’s back continued their attack.
Corey gently brushed the back of his hand across Tiffany’s cheek. “Tiff, tell the boy it’s going to be all right. Tell him to back away.”
She nodded. “Joey...”
Her voice barely carried past her own lips. He would have to do this himself.
He loosened his hold on her slowly. When he was sure she was steady, he let go of her. Then, he spun around, grabbed the boy by the back of his shirt and jerked him an inch off the ground.
“Your mother is fine. Look for yourself.” He swung him in the right direction.
“Now stop struggling and I’ll let you go.” The boy stopped. Corey lowered him to the ground and gave him a gentle push toward his mother.
Mother and child clung to each other. He followed the movement of Tiffany’s hands as they gently caressed the head that lay cradled against her breast. The scene emasculated him. Maybe he did deserve to be behind bars with the rest of the world’s scumbags. When she spoke to the boy, he was sure of it.
“Joey. Corey didn’t hurt me.”
Joey pulled out of his mother’s arms. He seemed to grow six inches as he stepped away from her and turned to face Corey.
“My mom is a lady. She never lies. All the same, I don’t like the way you treat her. You may be bigger than I am, but if you ever hurt her, I’ll come after you.”
Corey rolled that over in his mind for a moment. His son had just threatened him with who-knew-what. While he was proud of the kid’s spunk, his reckless disregard for consequences would land him in big trouble one day. The old woman had been right; his son needed a man in his life to channel that raw cussedness into something closer to productive grit.
“Boy, you did right to defend your mother. However, I’ll give you some good advice. When you threaten a man, you’d better be ready to back it up right then. You get my meaning?”
*******************************************************
“Evening, Mrs. Covington.”
Tiffany turned at the sound of his voice and placed her hand on her son’s shoulder. “Wait, Joey. Hello, Corey. Are you just arriving?”
“No, I caught most of the events.”
The boy was not acknowledging his presence. He kept his eyes on the toe of the boot he was digging into the ground instead. So far, he’d managed to lock horns with the kid each time they met. He needed to make this time different, show the boy he wasn’t his, or his mom’s, worst enemy. Corey put a smile on his face and a congenial tone to his voice.
“That was a good roll you made out there tonight. Some bull riders never get that down as well as they should. It will save you a lot of injuries in the future.”
“What do you know about it?” The boy managed to keep his tone respectful, but Corey knew the real implication that powered his reply.
Tiffany spoke up. “Corey was District Champion his last two years of high school. He had intentions of going pro.”
A small spark of interest flashed across the boys face. Flash was the appropriate term. He managed to kill it before it grew into anything bigger.
“I haven’t done much in the last few years, but I could give you a few pointers on that balance problem you’re having. Maybe you’d like to come over and we’ll set up a practice barrel.”
The boy lifted his head. “I don’t need any help. I’m doing okay by myself.”
Corey locked eyes with a set that were battle-brown and an exact match to his own. “Yeah, that’s probably why the bull scored more points than you did tonight. Don’t refuse help out of pure cussedness, boy. Learn to take help when it’s needed. You need to practice your rhythm if you ever expect to match your movements with the bull’s. Those judges aren’t going to give you anything you don’t earn.”
“Thank you for your offer, Corey.” Tiffany interjected. “Maybe when Joey isn’t so tired, he’ll feel more like taking you up on you kind offer.”
When snowballs have suntans, thought Corey. She was a mama, all right, and she was going to make a pansy out of his son. When he wasn’t so tired. Couldn’t she see that her son was a twelve-year-old boy on the fast track to manhood? He could rodeo half the night, carouse the other, and still not be tired.
“Corey, Joey and I were just headed over to Telli’s for something to eat. Would you like to join us?” asked Tiffany.
“Mom!”
“Joey, it’s the least we can do after Corey’s kind offer.”
Corey studied the woman’s upturned face. The hopeful longing shimmering in her baby-blue eyes slammed into him, jarring him more than any bull he’d ever ridden. She didn’t have sense enough to bar the gates where he was concerned. He could take every sweet morsel she unknowingly offered, and leave her as empty as yesterday’s dreams.
“Why not?” He heard the words before he had time to think about them. Who was he kidding? He wanted to sit across the table and have her look at him as if he was the house specialty. Those adoring looks made him feel almost whole again. He wondered if she was prepared to do more than look. He could get used to her back in his life. This time around, he would keep his heart out of it.
Lynda Coker / www.lyndacoker.com
Payback in Wayback (Wayback, Texas Series)
www.thewildrosepress.com
http://romancewriterandreader.ning.com
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