About Roughstock: And a Smile: Coke's Clown
by BA Tortuga
126 pages / 31900 words
ISBN: 978-1-61040-199-9
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Bullfighter Coke is having a rough time in the Roughstock universe. When
his dear friend Sam Bell is injured at the finals of the bullriding season,
he takes that, and his injuries, pretty hard. His very own clown, Dillon, is
determined to take care of Coke, which is tough when Coke is usually the one
to care for everyone. Can Dillon get Coke to take a little downtime and
recover?
Dillon and Coke appear in And a Smile: Season One.
Review
Kiernan Kelly, author of Two Spirits, writes: There's an old saying in the rodeo that goes, "It's not a matter of if you get hurt, but when." When you're a bullfighter, better known as rodeo clowns, sometimes the wounds aren't obvious.
In "And a Smile – Coke's Clown," BA Tortuga brings the reader back into the exciting world of bullriding that began with "Roughstock." Coke is an aging bullfighter with a pocketful of secrets and a deep need to keep his men safe. When one of the bullriders is severely injured during a ride, Coke takes it as a personal failure. Guilt and pain drive Coke to the bottle, and his only hope to have his heart healed lies with his lover, Dillon. With the holidays approaching it seems the perfect time for a much needed vacation for both men.
BA Tortuga never fails to toss the reader squarely onto the back of a
bucking bull in the "Roughstock" series, and this not-to-be-missed story is
no exception. In addition, the reader gets to explore a side seldom seen of
the courageous men who make their living in the rodeo – their lives in the
aftermath of tragedy, and the battle they wage to remain strong, and love
well.
Sample
"We shoulda got to him, Nattie."
"I know, Hoss."
Coke blinked at the tumblers, then at the mostly empty bottle of Jack. There
was a third, for when they finished this one. It took some blinking, but he
got the booze in the glasses, the image of Sammy Bell bloodied and broken
and convulsing in the chute clear as a movie in his mind.
"We shoulda got to him. Why the fuck didn't we get to him?"
"Because we're human, Gramps."
Coke Pharris snarled a little, glaring at the little Aussie. Fred was a
dear, but he was fucking annoying and a little goddamn stupid. "We cain't be
fucking human. We gotta be better. Gotta be bigger, damn it."
The whiskey burned all the way down.
"So, what, you're going to be monster, Coke?" Dillon appeared, looking
washed out, almost transparent.
"How's Sammy?" He tried to stand up, stumbling into Nate. He could see Tracy
behind Dillon, fluttering a little.
"He's out of surgery. They say that part went well." Dillon took him when
Nate passed him over, hands on his arms.
"I want to go back to the hospital, then. Sit with the Cajun. Pray."
That bull'd come around and tossed Nattie like a bag of potatoes. He hadn't
even seen Sammy drop into the chute.
"No." Dillon's voice was flat, a little hard. A lot exhausted. "No, you need
to rest. You have to work tomorrow. All of you."
"I c'n work. What 'bout you, Nattie?" He didn't need nobody to tell him what
the fuck to do. He didn't...
"Hoss. We done drunk two bottles. My lady needs me." Nattie's face was a
little blurry-like.
Damn. Even Natty was letting him down. Dillon's fingers tightened until Coke
felt them dig in.
"Come on, babe."
He growled, stumbling a little through the unfamiliar sitting room. Shit, he
didn't even know where the fuck he was.
"Steady." Dillon led him out into the hall and he remembered. The hotel
hospitality room in the convention area. Shit. He was sloshing.
"I need to go back to the hospital and see Sammy. Tell him I'm sorry."
"Coke, he's not awake. They're gonna keep him under until the swelling goes
down." Dillon sounded like he was talking to a child.
"I got his blood all on me. Jase didn't bleed none."
"No. No, he didn't. Sammy's scalp peeled back." Dillon had blood on him,
too. Coke vaguely remembered Dillon pulling him off Sam when the EMTs came.
He nodded, or tried to. Jesus, there were sore spots. Bone. There'd been
bone. And so much fucking blood. And he should've got to Beau, to Sammy.
"Coke. Damn it, babe, would you listen to me?" Dillon stopped by the
elevator, shaking him a little.
"Whut?" He frowned up at Dillon, trying to focus.
"You need to pay attention. One foot in front of the other." Man, Dillon was
multiplying.
"I think I oughta sleep here for a few minutes." He couldn't keep a bunch of
Dillons happy. He didn't have enough cocks.
"No, babe. We need to sober you up a bit before you sleep."
"Sam Bell got hurt bad. We tried to get to him." He was tired of not saving
'em.