Excerpt from Doggone Love--unedited version

I forgot the other excerpt. I am out of practice here LOL. After that midwinter lapse time it is kind of like being reborn in a new world. You have to learn stuff all over again LOL. Anyway, here is a short peak at Doggone Love.

By the way I have an Australian Shepherd and am about to get another one through "Aussie Rescue" that rehomes abandoned, lost, neglected/abused and pound puppy Aussies. It is a fascinating community and I got on a couple of lists and am learning loads! Anyway, that is the breed Damon's Dixie is.

Here Damon has just rushed Dixie, who was kicked hard by a horse, to the vet clinic he goes to with all his animals. He is in for a surprise....

He made it to the Caliente Veterinary Hospital in thirty five minutes, near record time. A regular customer, he pulled around to a back door. That one wasn’t used by the town customers who brought their pampered pets into the reception area up front. He was in no mood to deal with so-called dogs that looked like dust mops on stubby legs or ill-tempered cats and their fussy female owners. As he strode down the hall, someone stepped out of an examination room into his path.

“Hold on a minute. Just where do you think you’re going? Customers are supposed to check in with reception up front. We can’t have every tom, dick and harry traipsing through here.”

Damon almost bowled the shorter man over. The other man caught his balance by grabbing a door jamb.

“I ain’t tom and I damn well don’t have a hairy dick. Where’s Doc Palmer? I’ve got an injured dog out in my truck, a working dog. She needs care right away.”

The husky blond man folded his arms, feet apart, effectively blocking the hallway. “Dave Palmer had a family emergency. He had to go home to Texas for a few days. I’m taking over until he gets back.”

“Who the fuck are you, anyway?” Damon had no desire to deal with someone who was not used to handling working animals--or their owners. This guy might be good with the ladies and their lap dogs but so far he didn’t impress Damon sufficiently for much confidence.

When it came to Dixie, only the best would do. The red merle bitch was no longer young but he counted on at least one more good litter from her. A few more years of her companionship would be nice, too. She was as much a pet as a working dog could be. Truth be told, he loved her like the family he didn’t have.

“I’m Doctor Vann, Eric Vann. I’ll be glad to take a look at your dog. What’s the problem?”

Damon glowered at the young vet’s surfer-boy appearance. “Are you familiar with stock dogs? She made the mistake of trying to heel a cranky gelding. He kicked her. She knows better, but we all do dumb things sometimes. Accident happened about an hour and a half ago. I got her here as quick as I could. RIght now I’m most worried about shock.”

Spinning on one heel, Damon heading back out. He was half-surprised that Dr. Vann followed. Dixie lay quietly but her eyes looked clear. She was also still alert. So far so good. As Damon watched, the other man approached, held his hand down for her to sniff and then touched her neck very softly.

“Let’s get her inside.” Without Damon saying a word, Dr. Vann moved to unlatch the tailgate. Together they lifted the sheet of plywood. Then they carried it inside, dog and all. At that, Damon revised his opinion up one notch.

At least the young doctor wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. He didn’t shrink from the manure crusted on one edge of the board. His manner with Dixie seemed calm and sure. Working in tandem, they slid the dog easily from the board onto an examining table.

Damon steadied her while Eric gave her an injection of tranquilizer to keep her quiet. Then he proceeded with the examination. After he listened to her heart and respiration, he gently ran his hands over her body, finding a tender spot on her left side. He looked up at Damon, a frown creasing his brow between eyes the color of a cloudless Arizona sky. ”I can’t tell for sure but I think she may have some cracked or broken ribs. I want to do an x-ray to be sure. That might also reveal if there are any internal injuries.”

Damon shook his head to bring his awareness back to the present. He could not imagine why but as he watched the vet’s gentle but capable hands move carefully over the dog, he had a sudden vision of those hands on his own body. A strange sizzle of awareness flashed through him. Hell, if he didn’t know it was impossible, he’d have called it arousal, but that was loco. He wasn’t attracted to other men!

“All right,” he answered, forcing his voice past a sudden frog in his throat. “Whatever you think is needed, I want done. She’s my best dog, the mother of the two next best ones. I was planning on getting at least one more litter from her. She’s only about nine.”

Eric nodded. “I’ll do my best. I can tell she’s special. Just one look at her before the drug took hold told me that. Lots of intelligence in those eyes. Aussies are great dogs. By the way, you didn’t tell me who you are. I assume you’re a regular customer of Dave Palmer’s.” He glanced up with the question clear in his face.

“That’s right. I’m Damon Carhart—my ranch is out the Caliente Creek Road, just at the foot of the mountains. Doc Palmer has dosed my colicky horses, done pregnancy checks, pulled calves, and doctored snake-bites. He’s generally helped me keep my critters in good shape, patching up the ones that weren’t. As much as he’s done, he’s almost a partner. I probably owe him that much anyway.”

Eric stuck his hand out. “Okay, I’ve heard about you. I just opened my practice in Gila Vista, mostly small animals although I get an occasional horse. Things are a bit slow so Dave, who’s an old buddy of my uncle’s, asked me to fill in for him.”

Damon took the offered hand. Again that strange sensation washed over him. The doctor’s hand was firm, warm, a solid clasp but no excessive squeeze or crunch. For a few seconds, he looked down into the other man’s face. Now that he really looked, he saw more character there than he had recognized at first.

Erik’s skin was a healthy outdoor shade, just beginning to show a trace of weathering. A pair of sky-blue eyes, steady and sure, gazed up at him. The face overall was squarebut well-balanced. He had sandy eyebrows and a little crook in an otherwise straight but strong nose as if it might once have been broken.

He wasn’t particularly handsome, Damon decided, but pleasant looking. Probably the kind of guy you’d like to have for a friend. There was strength and calm assurance in his stance as well as his approach to handling the dog. Damon felt a twinge of shame over his first impression—sometimes he was a mite too hasty in his judgments.