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The Opening of WHAT HAPPENS IN BOZEMAN (Excerpt)
Thursday, March 7th, 2024

What Happens in Bozeman

Kelly Willis was a good girl by anyone’s definition. She’d never dated around, having gone steady with her star quarterback boyfriend since her sophomore year of high school. He’d been her first kiss, her first experience with sex. Her parents had adored her boyfriend and had delightedly set about planning her future so she didn’t screw up a good thing.

To make sure she was ever-present to their goal for her, she’d headed to college with him, wearing his promise ring, and had never once looked astray for attention from other men. Further, she’d gained her degree in a perfectly respectful, acceptably feminine profession.

She’d gone to church every Sunday of her life, never once doubting that God saw that she was good and would reward her for her virtue.

So, for her to be contemplating doing what she was now would’ve shocked the panties off her dear mother, her white-haired pastor, and her high school sex-ed teacher, who’d been long on abstinence and short on understanding a younger woman’s hormones. But then again, where were they all now?

Not here, stuck outside a hotel in Bozeman, Montana, while she waited for the snowplows to clear a passage through the mountains so she could get to her destination.

She hadn’t wanted to stop, and if the roads hadn’t been blocked by traffic barricades and a police officer directing vehicles to the nearest exit, she’d have kept driving—the winter storm be damned. By now, she’d had plenty of time alone with her thoughts.

Crazy, mixed-up thoughts of revenge and retribution filled her imagination with images of the fiery pit of Hell. Not for her. No, the person who deserved to be cast down into its depths wasn’t even here to feel the anger that had her fuming hot despite the chill, near-zero temperature.

While every curse word she’d never uttered aloud flitted through her mind, she felt her ire burbling like acid in her belly until it had to find its release.

“Fuck,” she whispered, then glanced around to make sure no one else standing in the parking lot had heard her. No one was looking her way.

And once she’d said it, she felt disappointed in herself. Not because she’d uttered that coarse, forbidden word but because she’d said it so softly. Was she gutless? Hadn’t she earned the right to rebel against a lifetime’s strictures? She’d been the Queen of Pristine, or so the boys at her high school had labeled her behind her back.

He had thought that title was hilarious, given what they’d done after the Friday Night Lights dimmed. He, who shall not be named. Ever again.

She sniffed back a sob, tamping it down deep.

“That fucker,” she said a little more loudly this time.

She stood straighter. No bolt of lightning had struck her. In fact, her chest felt a little lighter now. She could finally draw a deep breath.

Again, her gaze went to the man on the edge of the group, standing outside the hotel’s diner while employees were scurrying inside to open for a bunch of stranded, hungry travelers.

He’d do. Not that he’d given her so much as a glance. It didn’t matter that she’d decided for him. He was in the right place at the right time—although “right” and what she intended had nothing to do with each other. She turned up the fur-lined collar of her puffy jacket and strode in his direction. For the moment, she was filled with confidence because she’d earned this. Years of servitude to a single, hallowed goal would have their reward.

She didn’t even care if he was handsome. Good looks hid ugly flaws, or so she’d discovered. She hoped he had a big nose and was missing a tooth—just one. She’d want to kiss him after all. She was sure he’d have calluses, given he was wearing a cowboy hat that looked like it actually served a purpose, with its faint ring around the crown. His jeans were faded by actual use, not some weird fashion statement. His boots were scuffed and a plain brown. No nonsense. A working man’s footwear, not a poser’s.

The closer she drew, the more confident she felt about this plan. First, she’d insinuate herself into sharing a table with him. She’d smile and flirt, then drop her extra key card on the table when she excused herself.

She was almost there; he was turning toward her…

No, he turned and smiled at a grinning woman who was waving her keycard in her hand and rushing to his side.

Well, shit. She only just managed to keep the words inside her mouth.

The doors to the diner swung open, and she was caught in the crowd of twenty or so individuals who flowed inside the heated space.

Tables filled quickly, and she eyed an open stool at the counter, but a man whose large bottom nearly swallowed the stool laid claim before she could.

She stood with her shoulders drooping, looking for an empty table, when she heard a throat clear to her left.

Glancing sideways, she saw a man with a lop-sided smile waving a hand to the open seat across from him. “I don’t mind sharing, ma’am.”

*~*~*

What Happens in Bozeman arrives on March 19th. Pre-order your copy now!

N.J. Walters: Protecting the Gray Wolf
Wednesday, February 28th, 2024

PROTECTING THE GRAY WOLF, the second book in the Lone Wolf Legacy trilogy, is finally here!

Who are the lone wolves?

Since the rise of the werewolf, there has always existed a single lone wolf—with pure white, gray, or black fur and eyes that match—who answers to no alpha, belongs to no pack. Merciless and deadly, he wanders the world, both judge and executioner of rogue wolves who senselessly kill, endangering all their kind.

When one dies, another takes its place, awakening to his purpose the first time he shifts to his wolf form. Known by the sign of the lone wolf—a sickle over the heart—the short-handled, circular blade remains as a tattoo on the man and as a mark on the wolf. A lethal combination of intelligence, brutal strength, and keen instinct, he walks a lonely path, shunned by pack, always alone.

For the first time, there are three in the world—white, gray, and black—who all bear the mark on their chests. No one knows why, least of all them…

Protecting the Gray Wolf
Lone Wolf Legacy, Book 2

I’m used to other wolves coming for me. They want their chance to try and take out the infamous Gray Wolf. And every single one of them fails—because lone wolves aren’t like the others…we’re stronger. Harder. Meaner. Immortal.

But it also means I’m alone. No pack. No alpha. Just the three of us—white, gray, and black. Two too many, if you ask me.

But with power-hungry mages gunning for us, I don’t have the luxury of reflection. They’re in New York City, and I Will. Hunt. Them. Down.

Which is when I see her, and every cell in my body is on alert, filled with the kind of primal longing I never knew I was capable of. Luna West may be human, but there’s some kind of thread connecting us. Call it destiny, fate…or voracious animal hunger.

I know she’s bait. She’s meant to tempt me, to make me weak. But even if I could resist her, I’m not sure I want to.

Because I’ve never denied my wolf anything…especially the chance to raise some serious hell.

And I’m not about to start now.

(Author Note: This book is told in third person, even though the blurb is in first person.)

TEASER:

The air stirred behind him. Goose bumps rose on his skin. Kade’s head snapped around, searching for what had disturbed him. The woman was almost six feet tall, even wearing flats. The dress she wore was a pale gray that matched her eyes. It was loose but gave the impression of generous curves beneath. Curly brown hair tumbled around her shoulders. Streaks of gray ran through the front part so the strands framed her face. And what a face it was. Her lips were full, her chin slightly rounded. High cheekbones brought his gaze back to her eyes, which widened beneath thick, dark lashes.

Part of him hadn’t believed the white wolf, or hadn’t wanted to, but there was no denying the vision before him. The gray streaks in her hair matched the color of his hair and her eyes were a mirror image of his. Their eyes met and she came to an abrupt stop. Every muscle in his body tensed, poised to give chase if she ran. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. It was as if a switch had been flipped inside him. Lust warred with surge of possessiveness and the unexpected urge to protect. When she licked her lips, his jeans grew tighter. He clamped down on his emotions, exerting iron control over his wayward body. Last thing he needed was a hard-on in the middle of an art opening.

*~*~*

Want to read more of Luna and Kade’s story? Check out the links below.

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CSXC8HTG/
Entangled Publishing: https://www.entangledpublishing.com/books/protecting-the-gray-wolf
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/protecting-the-gray-wolf-n-j-walters/1144686015
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/protecting-the-gray-wolf

If you’re not familiar with the series, be sure to check out TAMING THE WHITE WOLF, book one of the series. Find out more at: Entangled Publishing: https://entangledpublishing.com/books/taming-the-white-wolf

About the Author

N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, assassins, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.

Visit her at:
Website: http://www.njwalters.com
Blog: http://www.njwalters.blogspot.com
Newsletter Sign Up: http://eepurl.com/gdblg5
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/N.J.WaltersAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/njwaltersauthor
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/NJWalters
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/njwalters
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/n-j-walters

Anna Taylor Sweringen/Michal Scott: Homespun Heroines and Other Women of Distinction (Contest)
Sunday, February 25th, 2024

UPDATE: The winner is…Mary McCoy!
*~*~*

For Black History Month, my post will focus on an amazing book I discovered while researching my October 2023 D.D. post on Hallie Q. Brown (1850-1950). Published by Ms. Brown in 1926, Homespun Heroines and Other Women of Distinction contains sixty biographical sketches/essays written by twenty-nine contributors. Ms. Brown wrote 21 of them.

Here is the book’s dedication which includes a verse of poetry by poet Clara Ann Thompson (1869-1949):

In memory of the many mothers who were loyal in tense and trying times, this volume is affectionately dedicated to the National Association of Colored Women of America and Canada.

Through all the blight of slavery
They kept their womanhood
And now they march with heads erect,
To fight for all things good,
Nor care for scorn nor seek for praise,
Just so they please their God.

Whether well-known like Phillis Wheatley or less well-known like Martha Payne, the mother of Daniel Payne, who founded Wilberforce University, each essay shares how these women impacted society in whatever role they found themselves.  By publishing Homespun Heroines, Hallie Brown and her co-authors made sure the world learned about women worthy of remembrance regardless of their “lot” in life.

In the foreword, author and teacher Josephine Turpin Washington (1861-1949) begins:

“Interesting as are the facts recorded in this book, they do not constitute its chief value. That is found in its reflection of the wonderful spirit which moved the women who strove and achieved, despite obstacles greater than any which have stood in the way of other upward struggles.”

Then she ends with, “The result is a work which not only furnishes useful information, but—what is even more—inspires to finer character and racial development.”

My edition of Homespun Heroines is part of a collaboration between the Schomburg Library in Harlem, Dr. Henry Louis Gates, and Oxford University Press. In his Note from the Schomburg, Howard Dodson, the Schomburg’s director at the time, wrote that when titles from the 19th century were being reprinted in the 1960s, with the exception of well-known names like Phillis Wheatley, the work of women was notably absent. The Schomburg therefore created The Schomburg Library of Nineteenth-Century Black Women.

By sharing my African American women posts here on Delilah’s blog I think that I too am honoring the “memory of the many mothers who were loyal in tense and trying times” as Hallie Brown and her co-authors did. Their work has inspired me to begin compiling information on African American women of the modern era as well as continuing to share about those from the 19th century. I’ve already written about some of the women found in Homespun Heroine’s pages. I look forward to sharing about others I’m discovering thanks to this fantastic resource.

For a chance at a $10 Amazon Gift Card, share in the comments any thoughts you might have on this post or the name of a resource that you’ve learned Women’s History from.

One Breath Away by Michal Scott

Sentenced to hang for a crime she didn’t commit, former slave Mary Hamilton was exonerated at literally the last gasp. She returns to Safe Haven, broken and resigned to live alone. She’s never been courted, cuddled or spooned, and now no man could want her, not when sexual satisfaction comes only with the thought of asphyxiation. But then the handsome stranger who saved her shows up, stealing her breath from across the room and promising so much more. Wealthy, freeborn-Black, Eban Thurman followed Mary to Safe Haven, believing the mysteriously exotic woman was foretold by the stars. He must marry her to reclaim his family farm. But first he must help her heal, and to do that means revealing his own predilection for edgier sex. Hope ignites along with lust until the past threatens to keep them one breath away from love…

Excerpt:

Arousal—fondly remembered and sorely missed—sizzled between Mary Hamilton’s well- rounded thighs. Moisture coated her nether lips and threatened to stoke the sizzle into a blaze. The sensation surprised her, as did the owner of the gaze that lit the flame.

Eban Thurman stood against an opposite wall of the town’s community hall. Although the room was wide as two barns and filled with revelers, neither the distance nor the presence of the crowd lessened the power of his gaze. He studied her with a curiosity that didn’t grope with disdain, but caressed with approval.

With respect.

This kind of appreciation was never given to women as dark and as large as she. Gratitude heated her face.

Gratitude and embarrassment. Her lavender toilet water couldn’t hide the fragrance of arousal. She shuddered with shame then glanced around. Had anyone else detected the odor? All the merrymakers seemed too caught up in the rhythmic fast fiddling and foot-stomping of Safe Haven’s seventh annual Juneteenth Revel to notice her discomfort.

In 1872 Texas who took note of a black woman who ain’t been asked to wed?

Yet Eban’s perusal said not only did he take note, but he liked what he saw.

Buylink: https://amzn.to/2u5XQYY

Cameron Allie: What’s happening in my world… (2 FREE Reads + Excerpt!)
Friday, February 16th, 2024

Release Date Delayed

I have sad news.

I had really wanted to show up today blaring trumpets and screaming “I have a new release! I have a new release!”, but unfortunately, I can’t.

My PNR wolf shifter book that was scheduled to release today, had to be postponed. So instead, I’m here to take a brief break before I go back to frantically trying to finish it so the proofer can get through it before it’s due to Amazon in less than a month.

If you think fated mates wolf shifters are for you, you can pick up the first one in the series, Drew (for free) here, and you can preorder Callum, which will be out next month (if all goes well) here.

 

Bookstagram Reviewer’s Choice Award: Romance Edition

I come with some news though. I’m starting up a Bookstagram Reviewer’s Choice Award.

What is that?

Well, right now I’m recruiting active bookstagrammers who love to read and review romance books! In March, I’ll be opening up the entry form for romance authors to enter their book (so long as it’s published between May 2023-April 2024).

This is an excellent opportunity for both Bookstagrammers and romance authors to connect with each other and to reach new romance readers.

There will be prizes for the top scoring entries in each category.

Judges will be receiving the books they judge for free.

Follow me on Instagram and follow the contest at our new Instagram account.

If you’d like more information, you can read about it here.

And if you’re a Bookstagrammer and you think you’d like to be a judge, you can sign up here.

How about a quick, unedited excerpt from Callum?

A few more hours and she could supervise the cleanup. Tonight, she’d sneak away to the tree fort for some quiet reading time, and if she was lucky, she’d miss seeing her father tonight.

As she thought through her plans, she straightened a tray on the table, and that’s when it hit her.

Or—more correctly—hit her nostrils.

The spicy, sweet scent from the other night, the one she’d thought was a cologne.

It was stronger now and immediately she realized what it was. Her mate.

For a second, she closed her eyes and just breathed in the intoxicating scent.

The noise of the crowd faded to a dull buzz. Across from her, someone shifted, and she just knew.

Looking up, there he was, the blond man, Elliot’s cousin, staring at her.

Her mouth watered as his scent flooded her senses. He was beautiful. His blond hair was darker at the roots and lighter at the tips, styled with a forelock that twisted and dipped across his forehead. A slight beard scruff covered the dimple in his chin.

He was stunning, and…related to Elliot.

Her father would never approve. Fated mate or not.

If he knew.

Her mate swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. “It’s you.”

Quickly, she glanced around before hushing him. “Don’t talk to me. Not here.”

With that, she turned on her heel and fled, her mind whirling with each step.

New plan.

Seduce her mate and convince him to imprint on her before her father found out.

Belated Valentine’s Day Gift!

Happy Valentine’s Day (Yeah, I know, it’s a couple days late)!
Sign up for my newsletter and receive a free copy of Arrested Valentine!

What do you do when you find out your ex-boyfriend was cheating? You spend Valentine’s with your bestie and a bottle of Vodka. Maybe she suggests you slash the cheater’s tires. Maybe you get arrested by the sexiest cop you’ve ever seen.

A day dedicated to love. How bad could it be?

Word Search: Random Malcolm Things & an Excerpt! (Contest)
Tuesday, February 6th, 2024

UPDATE: The winner is…Colleen C!
*~*~*

I’m getting close to “The End” of Malcolm! Good thing, too. It releases next Tuesday! Since the story is on my mind constantly—I kind of live it in an alternate reality in my head—today’s Word Search puzzle is filled with random elements of the story.

Enjoy the puzzle and the excerpt from the story below! And if you leave a comment, you’ll be entered to win a $5 Amazon gift card!

Excerpt from Malcolm

MalcolmMalcolm Winslow knew he stood out in this crowd. How could he not? With his longish, uncombed hair, thick beard, and the tattoos displayed by the rolled-up sleeves of his plaid shirt, not to mention the fact he was armed and wore a Kevlar vest, he drew every eye the second he entered the fancy barn that was lit up like the Fourth of July.

Those closest to the open doors were the first to fall silent. Hands touched shoulders and then pointed toward him as he resolutely made his way toward the trellis constructed between horse stalls on either side of the wide space and strung with white lights and roses, where a couple in their wedding finery stood before a preacher.

A groomsman tapped the groom on the shoulder, and he tore his gaze away from his stunning bride to glance down the aisle Malcolm strode down.

The groom’s eyes widened, and he turned to his bride, dug something from his pocket, and then said, “Candy, here are my keys—run!”

The groom slapped keys on her palm, straightened his shoulders, and stepped in Malcolm’s path.

Malcolm gave a single shake of his head, smacked away the groom’s raised fists, then bent to ram his shoulder into the other man’s chest.

The groom flew backward as Malcolm picked up his pace and ran toward the smaller back door of the barn through which the bride had just escaped.

Outside in the dusky gloom, he caught a glimpse of bright white as the bride, Candy Bodine, almost Carmichael, climbed a corral fence. He was surprised at the number of people standing on either side of the door outside this end of the barn but didn’t have time to figure out why they were there because Candy had just jumped down from the fence to the other side, snagging her long train on a nail. She ran forward, but her train held fast, springing her backward and onto her butt on the dirt.

She rolled, tangling herself in petticoats and torn train, and got to her knees. She stared back at him as he jogged toward the fence, planted a hand on the cedar fencepost, and sailed sideways over the top. Yeah, his feet skidded a bit in horse poop when his boots hit the ground, but the bride wasn’t so pristine now either, kind of like her rap sheet.

This time, she’d failed to appear before the judge for a drunk driving/failure to yield at a stop sign/fleeing the scene set of charges. And if Malcolm had anything to say about it, she was not heading to the private airport where Daddy had a plane waiting to fly her to some resort vacation in the Caribbean. As soon as Malcolm snicked the cuffs on her wrists, she’d be spending what should’ve been the first night of her honeymoon inside the detention center in Bozeman.

No amount of crocodile tears was going to dissuade him from his purpose.

Cameron Allie: My Mistletoe Master (FREE Reads-Contest-Excerpt!)
Thursday, January 4th, 2024

UPDATE: The winner is…Stacey Kinzebach!
*~*~*

Happy New Year!

I started 2024 by publishing a new book! Well, I re-released a book, that is.

My Mistletoe Master was originally published in 2016. It was my first book. I recently got my rights back from the publisher and decided to try my hand at self-publishing. It has a brand-new cover, a fresh edit, and a prologue that’s included for the first time!

Plus…it’s FREE!

My Mistletoe Master is a spicy contemporary romance. It’s new adult, BDSM, forbidden romance, second chance, and older brother’s hot best friend all rolled into one holiday-themed novel.

I’m visiting the blog today to drop off an excerpt for My Mistletoe Master, along with a link for you to download it for FREE. (Please note, I’m waiting for Amazon to price match it. It’s currently .99 cent there, but free everywhere else. Hopefully, they will drop it to free soon.)

In addition to My Mistletoe Master, I also have a PNR wolf shifter-fated mate novel that’s FREE! Two free books to start off your reading list this January. You can get it here: get Drew for free!

And I’ve heard you all like contests. Leave me comment and tell me how you celebrate the New Year. One winner will be selected to receive a paperback book. Their choice between the following:

  • Love Spells, Full Moons, and Silver Bullets
  • Tails from the Clayridge Fountain
  • Drew
  • Callum (after it releases in paperback)
  • My Mistletoe Master (after it releases in paperback)

 

My Mistletoe Master

Three years ago, he broke her heart. Now, she’s back in town and he’ll do anything to keep her.

When Nick catches her watching a fetish porno, Amelia isn’t sure what to expect. It certainly wasn’t a proposition to indulge her kinky side with her brother’s best friend—the man who destroyed her heart and confidence in one swoop.

Amelia’s three-year absence had taught Nick one thing—he doesn’t want to live without her. Nick isn’t willing to make the same mistake twice. He’ll do whatever it takes to show Amelia he can make her happy, even if that means learning what it takes to keep her satisfied in the bedroom.

Sneaking around during the holidays, Amelia questions if she can move past their history and trust Nick again.

Excerpt

Three years later…

Low keening moans and sharp slaps came from the speakers on her tablet.

Alone yet subtly embarrassed in her parents’ big house, she turned the volume down just a touch.

With her dad at work and her mother and brother recently gone to finish their holiday shopping, the welcome home from university hadn’t been as momentous as she’d expected. She’d been absent for three years, barely coming home between semesters. She had thought some sort of conversation would have at least occurred, not the quick ‘hi’ and ‘bye’ as her family fled the house she had received.

It was a busy time, especially with her parents’ annual holiday party. Besides, they hadn’t expected her home until late afternoon anyway, so who could fault them for rushing out the door as soon as she’d arrived?

Having dumped her stuff in the foyer, she’d proceeded to make herself a cup of tea, then had settled on the couch to check her grades.

No updates.

After scrolling social media, she’d given up trying to find a distraction and, instead, pulled up one of her favorite softcore porn videos. This one featured a Dom, clad in black leather pants and nothing else as he restrained a woman. He raised one arm, then the other, locking them in place above her head with cuffs. Suspended from the ceiling, the man went about binding the woman’s feet to the floor. Naked and spread eagle, she moaned for him. As he slowly raked his hand over here exposed ass, he denied her any form of release.

Growing wet between her legs, Amelia realized it had been too long since she’d had a man. Her body strained for more than her simple touch, but since she and her boyfriend had split two months ago, she would have to make do. To heighten her pleasure, she resisted her own needs, merely watching the two on the screen.

Pressing her palm against her jean-covered crotch, she watched as the woman cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure as the man repeatedly spanked her. Moaning aloud with the video, Amelia abandoned her restraint, rocking against her hand. Her eyes drifted shut as she tugged on the button of her jeans, eager to touch herself and work herself toward climax.

A cough sounded behind her, and she froze. “What a great way to start my morning.”

Amelia squeezed her eyes shut. No. No. No.

“Please, Sir,” the woman’s voice rang out from the tablet.

Wide-eyed, Amelia scrambled to shut the device off, finally muting the sound and flipping the cover over the screen.

A key in the front door that she would have heard, but another person already in the house? Damn it!

For a humiliating minute, Amelia prayed the floor would open up and swallow her whole. After three long years, this was not how she had envisioned facing him for the first time.

Frankly, she had planned to wear something sexy and elegant, and she wouldn’t have acknowledged his existence either. Instead, this was what Fate had in store.

Fuck my life.

Clutching her tablet to her chest, Amelia gathered what was left of her courage, standing to face him.

Nick Fuller. Her brother’s best friend and the man she’d been miserably in love with for decades.

From behind her makeshift shield, she studied him. He still took her breath away, even after he’d destroyed her fragile heart. With an unwavering stance, he stood with sleep-tousled hair, wearing nothing but pajama bottoms, and blocked her escape. His chest was broad, his stomach chiseled, and his arms corded with long, lean muscles. His expression was dark and confused.

She realized he was waiting for an explanation. Rather than provide one, she led with, “What the hell are you doing here?”

He blinked. “I’m here for the holidays, like every year.”

Amelia groaned. “My mom didn’t tell me you were here yet,” she admitted lamely, as though that explained her sinful behavior. Granted, her mother had barely said two words to her when she arrived.

“Three days.”

At a standstill, they simply stared each other down. His gaze was curious as it examined her.

Her cheeks heated.

How long was he standing there watching me?

Rounding the couch, she wondered how many days she could hide in her room before her parents dragged her out forcibly. With a bit of luck, she could avoid him at least for a few days.

But that was the coward’s way out and she knew it. This year’s plan had centered on pride and confidence, no matter how much she had to fake it.

I guess that plan is out the window now.

Aiming to shoulder her way past him so she could get to the stairs, Amelia put on a brave face and stalked toward him. His big body didn’t budge as she tried to maneuver around him.

Attempting to edge by, she mumbled, “Maybe we could just forget about this. You know, pretend I’m just not here yet.” She tried for a bright smile, but it faded when she saw humor light his gaze. Growing up, he and Gabe had teased her endlessly, and now she’d handed him ammunition.

“I don’t think so,” he took a step closer.

She had to tilt her head to keep his gaze. Rascal that he was, he dared to smile at her discomfort. Her body was primed for the orgasm she’d denied herself and his nearness didn’t help matters. Masculinity and dominance rolled off him in waves. People had always taken notice when he entered a room. He wasn’t the broad and bulky type like her brother; he was lean with a natural grace that made women think: stamina.

“I can’t believe it. I would never have thought Gabe’s little sister was such a perv.”

Convinced he was merely trying to get a rise out of her, her eyes narrowed, and her determination to sock him grew. Casual as you please, she shrugged. “It’s just a little kink.”

His smile widened.

She knew better than to trust that smile.

“You’re not going to tell anyone.” She winced when her words sounded more like a plea than an order.

“What’s my silence worth to you?”

This was the Nick she remembered from her childhood. Rebel, tease…scoundrel.

She ground her teeth and insisted, “You won’t tell.”

“Well, that depends on you, sweetheart,” he whispered. And was it her imagination, or had he gotten closer?

Tonight, just after midnight… LITTLE GREEN DREAMS!
Monday, December 11th, 2023

Tonight, my story releases! I’m excited. I hope you all love it. It’s as close to me and where I live as a story can be. The characters are fun and quirky—as they should be. Gurdon’s just down the road, and my father’s family has deep roots there.

Anyway, I hope you pick up a copy. If you like my sense of humor, you should enjoy this book. I’m crossing my fingers you love it. 🙂

A tabloid reporter seeks the truth behind an alien abduction claim made by a woman whose husband disappeared, although the truth may destroy his chances to woo her beautiful daughter…

Pre-order your copy!

Excerpt from Little Green Dreams

Here’s when Sandy realizes Joe’s there as a reporter. She’s sitting at his table in the diner where she works, watching him eat pie. Loy and Coy Nolan are locals and enjoy watching Sandy and Joe’s instant attraction…

Joe Franchetti… With her back to the two Nolans, Sandy tried his name out on her lips while Joe’s attention returned to his pie. Joe Franchetti… The name sounded as dark and exotic as the man looked.

Her gaze flicked over his bent head with avid attraction. Perhaps it was pre-programmed in her DNA, but something about his darkness captivated her. Deep, olive complexion. Dreamy, brown eyes. Dark, wavy, close-cropped hair. Even the hairs on his broad, long-fingered hands and arms fascinated her.

Her eyes crept to the collar of his shirt and the black hair that sprang from the open neck, then journeyed up the strong column of his throat to the wide, firm jaw speckled with the shadow of his afternoon beard.

Definitely not from around here. Too bad he was only passing through.

She wondered at her fascination. Perhaps it was the hint of mystery surrounding him, an air of something dangerous and starkly male. Or maybe she was just bored. But right now, looking at him was a joy. She shivered deliciously.

“You comin’ down with somethin’, Sandy?”

“I’m just fine, Coy, but thanks for askin’,” Sandy said, irritation making her voice a little sharp. That nosy man had probably counted the seconds she’d stared shamelessly at Joe.

With a sigh, Joe pushed away his plate. He looked up and seemed surprised to find her staring, then his gaze shifted beyond her shoulder. The two Nolans must have been staring, too.

Sandy cringed. He must think he’s so far back in the sticks that we don’t have a television to watch for entertainment.

“Sandy, did you know Joe here’s a writer?”

A writer? She stiffened, suspicion pushing away all the melty, mushy feelings she’d had. Sandy’s glance whipped to Joe.

His eyes shuttered. “I’m a science writer,” he said a little too quickly for her liking.

“Oh, yeah?” She folded her arms across her chest. “Which publication?”

“Scientific American,” he countered, not missing a beat. He was a slick operator if she ever saw one.

“See there, Sandy? A patriotic boy,” Coy said.

“He’s here to write an article about the Light,” Loy interjected cheerfully.

“And you just happened to stop at Dee’s Diner as soon as you hit town?” Eyes narrowed, she waited to see whether he’d squirm.

“Dee’s pies are famous,” Coy reminded her.

Sandy’s gaze didn’t waver—she was as patient as a cat waiting for a mouse to show itself. Only Joe Franchetti was a larger, more dangerous sort of rodent. “He’d never even heard about them.”

“Really,” Joe said, raising one hand in the air. “The pie was great.”

Sandy couldn’t help thinking God would strike him dead if he went any further with this charade.

He shrugged and gave her a boyishly sheepish grin. “I’ve been assigned to look into the history and folklore surrounding The Gurdon Light.”

She didn’t believe him for a minute. His handsome face and flirty ways had been trained on her ever since he’d stepped into the diner. “And is there one particular theory that you’re more interested in?” she asked, knowing her tone was downright belligerent but not giving a damn.

“Ah, Sandy, give the man a break,” the younger Loy chided. “Aren’t you bein’ a little hyper-sensitive?”

She shot him a scowl. “Hyper-what? You shouldn’t use such big words, Loy. You’ll get a headache.”

Coy gave a suspicious cough. “Sandy, maybe it’s fate—kismet.”

She looked over her shoulder to glare at Coy. “Kismet, my a—”

“Now, now,” Coy said. “Don’t go losin’ that temper of yours.”

Joe removed a twenty from his wallet and laid it on the table. “Keep the change. Look, I can see you aren’t happy with my being here.” He scooted across the vinyl bench, preparing to leave. “If I could get those directions to the bed and breakfast, I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Find your own damn bed,” she said, glaring. Reporters didn’t deserve civility.

Joe raised an eyebrow, but the corners of his sexy mouth quirked. The man was amused by her rage. Grrr.

“Now, hush up, Sandy,” Coy said, his words clipped. “Or I’ll tell your mother how rude you’ve been to a stranger to our town.” He smiled at Joe. “I better draw you a map, Joe. I’ll walk out with you.”

Sandy kept her face averted as Coy slid from his seat. A knot of tension built in her belly. She hated acting like a bitch with anyone. That Coy had felt the need to dress her down made her ashamed.

“I appreciate it, Coy,” Joe said. “Well, it was nice meeting you folks.”

She snorted.

Then, the slithering snake had the gall to include her in the smile he flashed.

Sandy jutted her chin higher and bristled when he chuckled.

“Nice meetin’ you, Joe,” Loy chimed in. “I’ll be seein’ you around. I can point you to the folks you need to talk to about that Light.”

“That’s very kind of you, Loy. I’ll see you soon, Sandy,” Joe said the last softly and then walked away.

Damn, if his voice saying her name didn’t make her toes curl.

“Ooo-wee!” Loy howled once the two men exited the restaurant. “I can see the steam risin’ from your ears. I’m thinkin’ you have an admirer, Sandy-girl.”

Sandy swatted him on the shoulder. “Do us both a favor—don’t think!”

Loy laughed. “I’m outta here. Say goodbye to Dee.”

Sandy stood, starch in her backbone, and began to clear the dishes from the two tables. She refused to give Joe Franchetti the benefit of a single glance as he left the parking lot. Strange, but she knew he was staring at her through the glass. Why else would her clothes suddenly feel tight and her skin flushed?

Of all the rotten luck. Sandy knew just about every man around Clark County, and not a single one had ever left her breathless with just a smile.

Sandy had been pleased when Joe’s gaze had lingered as she’d waited on his table. Her gullibility angered her. At least now, she understood the danger in the air. She just wished she’d used a little more caution and paid attention to the niggling suspicion at the back of her mind.

She’d have to give Joe Franchetti a wide berth, however handsome and fascinating he was—and that was going to be nigh on impossible to do now.

She could just kick herself for suggesting Oralia’s place. All he’d done was smile, and she’d looked into those doe-brown eyes and melted into a puddle of goo. When he’d mentioned needing a hotel, her first instinct had been to blurt out Oralia’s Bed and Breakfast.

The thought raised her temper another notch as she stomped over to the sink with the dishes. That reporter had seduced her with his shiny hair and shiny teeth.

He’d even felt her up when she’d brought him Dee’s special pie—gliding his big, hairy fingers along her arm, making her think how delicious it would feel for his hand to glide along her skin…well, elsewhere. And he’d done it right there in front of God and the two Nolans!

In a heartbeat, Sandra’s anger turned to panic. Sending Joe Franchetti to Oralia’s was a big mistake because her mother was at home—right next door. She had to keep a distance between the two of them. There was no telling what her mother might say.

The last time she’d spoken to a reporter, he’d made her look like a nut. And worse, he’d cast suspicion on her over Bobby’s disappearance.

Pushing through the kitchen door, she spied Dee glossing the tops of a batch of fried pies with a stick of butter.

“Dee, I have to leave early.” Sandra reached for her purse hanging on a hook beside the bathroom. “Something’s come up.”

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with that young man who was just here, would it?” Dee’s eyes teased. “I saw him. Had to get myself a look at whatever had your cheeks glowin’ like ripe peaches. Don’t say as I blame you; he’s a mighty handsome man.”

“I didn’t notice.” Never good at lying, she felt her cheeks burn. “I need to check on Mama,” Sandy said, pretending disinterest while searching her purse for her keys.

“Of course you do.” Dee grinned. “Say hello to Amelia for me.”

“I will. Thanks, Dee. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Sandy hurried to her car, muttering to herself. “Great. Why couldn’t I have a normal mother? Why couldn’t she just be waiting for the Lord to call her home? No, not my mama. She’s waitin’ for a phone call from E.T.”