So, I write cowboys. That’s my thing. My daddy’s a cowboy; my brother’s a bullrider (or was, he’s a little long in the tooth for that stuff these days). I have another brother that trains horses. It’s just my culture, my childhood.
Now, I have a secret. I love the Brazilian bull riders. That can be a tricksy subject, believe it or not. As far as a lot of my peers are concerned, it’s not only unpatriotic to root for the Killer B’s as they’re known, but it’s damn near un-American. Trust me, two tattooed lesbians with Brazil t-shirts at a PBR event in Nashville?
Still, we cheer and we root. Adriano, Guilherme, Robson, Kaique, Pablo, Eduardo. All of them.
Once upon a time, many years ago, Guilherme Marchi and his (very pregnant) wife had opened up a churrascaria (or Brazilian steakhouse) in Dallas and Julia and I made reservations for after the bull riding on Sunday afternoon.
First, the entire damn restaurant was filled with heaven in Wranglers and silver belt buckles. Justin McBride, JW Hart, Adriano Moraes, Rob Smet, Shorty Gorham, Frank Newsome.
I swear to God, I damn near swallowed my tongue.
We sat there, trying to remember how to breathe, surrounded by testosterone and laughter, the only fans in a sea of our heroes.
Then Guilherme walks up to us, smiles, and pours our drinks.
Now, the world could have ended right there, right? I’d have died a happy woman.
At the end of an amazing meal, the waiter brings over an aperitif (fancy fancy, huh?) and promptly pours it down my wife’s back.
Adriano Moraes starts cackling, Guilherme and his wife and ten thousand gorgeous Brazilian men started fawning over her as she died of sparkly joy. Ushered to the bathroom with a bottle of club soda, she stripped down and washed out her shirt, and when she came back there were apologies and free dessert.
We dined out on that one for a few years, and every time Guilherme Marchi saw us at an event he hugged us and asked, “How are you my old friends?” Made the other fans jealous, let me tell you.
When I think of how fiery and friendly and gracious the Brazliain riders are, it always makes me smile. And I always remember that ridiculous tray of after dinner drinks sliding down my wife’s back.
It only seemed fair then, to write a story about Balta and Joa and Raul – my hot, fiery Brazilians – and give them their happily ever after.
It wasn’t always a given – Joa is more Texan than Brazilian, Raul’s English is marginal, at best, and my beloved Balta? Well, he’s sort of an asshole, if I’m honest.
Separately, they were a little shaky, but together they try to form a triangle that is unshakable in the middle of a wild environment where injuries are inevitable, prejudice is rampant, and politics are almost as important as the rides themselves.
I hope y’all come and take the ride with me!
Much love, y’all.
Pulled from All Sides By BA Tortuga
Balta is all fire and fury, Joa is his haven. What happens when Raul becomes their third?
Joa is an anomaly on the bullriding circuit—he’s Brazilian but grew up in Texas, so he’s not sure where he fits in. Champion Brazilian rider Balta knows just where he wants Joa to be, both in his life and in his bed.
Raul is new to the bullriding circuit and needs their help learning the ropes. From the start, Raul knows that Joa belongs with Balta, but he also knows that Balta’s career is on its way down and the world is ripe for another champion from Brazil.
When Balta decides that Raul is just what he and Joa need to even out the balance of power, they have to find common ground—professionally, publicly and, most importantly, personally.
Meet BA Tortuga
Texan to the bone and an unrepentant Daddy’s Girl, BA Tortuga spends her days with her basset hounds and her beloved wife, texting her sisters, and eating Mexican food. When she’s not doing that, she’s writing. She spends her days off watching rodeo, knitting and surfing Pinterest in the name of research. BA’s personal saviors include her wife, Julia Talbot, her best friend, Sean Michael, and coffee. Lots of coffee. Really good coffee.
Having written everything from fist-fighting rednecks to hard-core cowboys to werewolves, BA does her damnedest to tell the stories of her heart, which was raised in Northeast Texas, but has heard the call of the high desert and lives in the Sandias. With books ranging from hard-hitting GLBT romance, to fiery menages, to the most traditional of love stories, BA refuses to be pigeon-holed by anyone but the voices in her head.
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