Wild West Love Fest

is a personalized romance novel written by Thomas Marcy. Who hasn't fantasized about being a cowboy or a cowgirl in the Wild West? Well, be careful what you wish for.

     While vacationing in Colorado, our starring couple ride a pair of horses into the mountains for a romantic picnic and find themselves transported back to the Wild West, circa 1870. They are confronted by notorious pistol-packing outlaws, a love-sick gunslinger, a half-witted bounty hunter, a bevy of bodice-busting saloon girls, a less-than-ethical newspaper man, a quiet-but-wise Native American, a not-so-wise but good-hearted lawman and a cast of townsfolk straight out of central casting.
     Despite a potentially deadly case of mistaken identity and a bounty on their heads, the hero and heroine learn to navigate a world without modern conveniences amidst a town gone wild searching for missing gold and cash. With pandemonium surrounding them, the duo face trying to fit in with sometimes not-so-neighborly neighbors all the while trying to find a way back to the 21st century.
     Will love stand the test of time? Find out in Wild West Love Fest!


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eBook w/Photo $64.95 Order

WILD excerpt

All excerpts in this column are done in the "WILD" version. Examples of personalization are in pink, such as man's and woman's names, cologne, eye color, etc.
This Wild excerpt comes from Thomas Marcy’s Wild West Love Fest as the starring couple, Ann and John, are having a picnic that has taken a romantic twist in a pasture:


     A cool breeze washed over
Ann’s naked body, sending a shiver from the nape of her neck down to her toes.    
     John
felt her quiver, then looked deeply into her sparkling blue eyes. “Are you cold, Hunny, or was it my sensuous touch that gave you goosebumps?”
   “Both,”
Ann responded, smiling. Her gaze drifted to the cloudless, bright blue summer sky.
     “I’ll take that as a signal to go on,”
John said.    
     Ann
nodded. Her mind wandered. She was far away from Yorkville. The mountain meadow, with its swaying grasses, colorful wildflowers and majestic vistas, was the perfect place to make love to the man she’d grown to love over their 20 years together.    
     John
ran his fingers through Ann’s beautiful blonde hair. Then he lightly stroked the petal-soft skin of her breasts and abdomen.     
     Ann
closed her eyes and fell into the magic of the moment.     
     John
softly and adeptly leaned inward, landing butterfly kisses on her earlobes.
     Her heart fluttered, and she registered the scent of
Eternity as they embraced.    
   John’s
excitement was also heightened by her signature fragrance, Obsession. Gently, barely touching, his lips warmed her skin and moved slowly down to the beckoning softness of her arched neck. His hand gently surveyed the curves of her stomach, then hip, and then thigh. Right now he was a million miles away from here, from Wheeling Steel, from anything that dealt with the current world. He was in Ann’s world and totally enjoying it.     
     Ann’s
senses heightened. The peaty aroma of the forest; the distant buzz of a bumble bee pollinating honeysuckle, the scent of which was just traceable in the air; the whistle of a mockingbird and the return call of its mate; a languid breeze wafting over her breasts enticing her nipples to stand erect; the azure sky, the verdant forest, the hands of her lover exploring every curve, imprinted bliss on her subconscious.
     With heightened arousal,
Ann pulled John closer. She wanted him here and now, but she was not going to squander this moment or rush her enchantment. She gently reached down, discovering John had reached the same heightened senses she felt. She knew her lover was ready to go on a sensual and sexual journey with her. In a decisive yet tender move, she guided John onto his back and reached for his obvious excitement.
     He lightly gasped at the first touch, but laid back while
Ann worked on his pleasure. If there was one thing he had learned in their 20 years together, whenever Ann decided to take charge, it was best to let her go.

MILD excerpt

All excerpts in this column are done in the "MILD" version. Examples of personalization are in pink, such as man's and woman's names, cologne, eye color, etc.

This Mild excerpt comes from Thomas Marcy’s Wild West Love Fest as the starring couple, Ann and John, are having a picnic that has taken a romantic twist in a pasture:


     A cool breeze washed over Ann’s body, sending a shiver from the nape of her neck down to her toes.    
     John
felt her quiver, then looked deeply into her sparkling blue eyes. “Are you cold, Hunny, or was it my sensuous touch that gave you goosebumps?”
   “Both,” Ann responded, smiling. Her gaze drifted to the cloudless, bright blue summer sky.
     “I’ll take that as a signal to go on,” John said.    
     Ann
nodded. Her mind wandered. She was far away from Yorkville. The mountain meadow, with its swaying grasses, colorful wildflowers and majestic vistas, was the perfect place to make love to the man she’d grown to love over their 20 years together.    
     John
ran his fingers through Ann’s beautiful blonde hair. Then he lightly stroked the petal-soft skin of her arms and neck.     
     Ann
closed her eyes and fell into the magic of the moment.     
     John
softly and adeptly leaned inward, landing butterfly kisses on her earlobes.
     Her heart fluttered, and she registered the scent of Eternity as they embraced.    
   John’s
excitement was also heightened by her signature fragrance, Obsession. Gently, barely touching, his lips warmed her skin and moved slowly down to the beckoning softness of her arched neck. His hand gently surveyed the curves of her shoulders and back. Right now he was a million miles away from here, from Wheeling Steel, from anything that dealt with the current world. He was in Ann’s world and totally enjoying it.     
     Ann’s
senses heightened. The peaty aroma of the forest; the distant buzz of a bumble bee pollinating honeysuckle, the scent of which was just traceable in the air; the whistle of a mockingbird and the return call of its mate; a languid breeze wafting over her skin; the azure sky, the verdant forest, the hands of her lover's massage, imprinted bliss on her subconscious.
     With heightened arousal, Ann pulled John closer. She wanted him here and now, but she was not going to squander this moment or rush her enchantment. She kissed his lips and heard him moan with delight. She knew her lover was ready to go on a loving journey with her. In a decisive yet tender move, she kissed him deeper and pulled him even closer.
     He accepted her advance. If there was one thing John had learned in their 20 years together, whenever Ann decided to take charge, it was best to let her go.