UPDATE: The winner is…Denise Z!
*~*~*

I suspect most of us have pets, right? For those who know me well, I have a Border Collie (Maggie) who’ll be twelve in May and a Parti Yorkie (Henry) who is about 18 months old. So, I know and love dogs.

A few months back, I was asked to participate in a rescue dog anthology, and I thought, “How fun!” Each of the ten participating authors is contributing a new, original book to the collection. These books aren’t linked except by the fact each of them has a rescued dog as a character.

My book is Hot Assets. It’s the story of how my heroine (Andrea Carmichael) agrees to dog-sit her neighbor’s dog while the neighbor is in the hospital, only to have someone kidnap the dog! Why would anyone want to kidnap a rescued mutt dog? Andi has to enlist the help of the cop (Seth Noles) who lives across the street to find the dog and get to the bottom of the mystery. As the mystery heats up, so does Andi and Seth’s relationship.

Now, before I get to the excerpt, this collection is on a PREORDER SPECIAL PRICE OF ONLY $0.99!! The price will go up to $3.99 after release.

Also, the royalties from sales on May 17 and 18 will be donated to a Florida Rescue Animal Organization.

Here is an UNEDITED snippet of the opening…

I sat up, unsure what woke me. Darkness swaddled me, my bedroom so quiet I heard my heartbeat in my ears. Grabbing my cellphone, I checked the time. Two a.m. Then, before I could replace the phone on the bedside table and settle back down for three more hours, the blasted thing began to ring. I sighed. Everyone knows only bad news comes at this hour.

When I look at the screen, I see I’ve missed a previous call, mostly likely what jarred me awake originally. My elderly next door neighbor’s name is flashing on my screen.

“Lillian,” I croaked into the phone. “What’s wrong?”

“I fell and I can’t move.” Her voice is reedy and thin, barely audible. “Help me.”

“Of course,” I said as I slid from my warm sheets. “I’ll be right there.”

I slipped on the jeans and the long-sleeve T-shirt I’d been wearing before bed, unconcerned that the shirt bore a definite stain of spaghetti sauce from last night’s dinner. In the foyer, I thrust my feet into shoes and grabbed Lillian’s housekey from the drawer in my entry hall table. Until recently, Lillian Branson had been a healthy, active senior citizen. She’d given me her housekey so I could water her plants when she was one of her trips, as she’d been last month. She’d returned ten days ago with what she called a bad cold, insisting she didn’t need to see a doctor.

Now, as I rushed out of my house and across our lawns, I feel guilty that I hadn’t pushed her harder. Shoot, my sister’s an ER doctor. I could have—should have—asked Brooke to drop by and take a look at Lillian. That probably would have made Lillian mad, but her only family is a grandson whom I’ve never seen or met in the three years we’ve been neighbors.

I let myself in and deactivate the house alarm. “Lillian?” I called out.

“In here,” she said, followed by a bark from Baxter, her mixed-breed rescue dog. Baxter, who weighed about eight pounds, but believed himself to be closer to eighty pounds, was always at Lillian’s side. Baxter traveled everywhere with Lillian. If Baxter wasn’t invited, Lillian wasn’t going.

I followed the faint voice to the kitchen where I found Lillian sprawled on the floor, a small gash dripping fresh blood down the side of her head. Baxter’s head rested on Lillian’s chest. When I knelt beside her, Baxter’s head lifted.

“What happened?”

“Oh, I feel like such a ninny. I was coughing and came downstairs to get a glass of water. I fell as I was reaching for a glass.”

I could hear my sister in my head warning me to not try to get Lillian up. “You have a small cut on your head. Let me grab a towel for the blood.”

I stood and as I looked for a clean kitchen towel, I noticed the dirty plates and glasses in the sink. Lillian hated dirt and disorder, so dinner dishes in the sink was out of character. I found a clean cloth and rejoined Lillian on her floor. “Here.” I pressed the material to her head. “Where else do you hurt?”

“My left hip. That’s where I landed.” She clucked her tongue. “I’m so clumsy.”

“Is someone else here?” I asked as I pressed on her hip.

She groaned from my touch and her gaze shifted away. “No. I’m here by myself. That’s why I can to call you.” Tears gathered in her eyes.

I knew she was lying to me. I just didn’t know why.

“Yeah, I don’t think I can get you up. My money’s on either a dislocation or broken hip.” I squeezed her shoulder in sympathy. “Sorry, Lillian, I have to call an ambulance.” I expected an argument. Lillian is one of the most independent women I know, and when I only got a head nod in answer, I knew I’d made the right decision.

I called 9-1-1 and explained the situation. Once I knew help was coming, I helped into a sitting position and joined her on the hardwood floor. 

“Well, this is a fine mess you’ve gotten us in to,” I said in my best Laurel and Hardy imitation.

She chuckled with a grimace. “I know.”

I heard heavy footfalls in the entry way, which surprised me as I hadn’t heard an ambulance siren. Plus, unless the ambulance had been one block away, there hadn’t been enough time for one to get here.

A man I did not know stepped into the kitchen as I realized that in my haste to get to Lillian, I’d left the front door open. Panic seized my throat and my breath.

I live in a Dallas historical area comprised of craftsman homes, many over a hundred years old. Lillian and I both live in refurbished homes in this classic neighborhood. While many of the houses have gotten the renovation necessary to bring back their stately beauty, others remain in poor conditions with the owners lacking the funding to do the required upkeep. Inside our neighborhood enclave, we feel secure. However, outside our immediate area, crime rates are higher than the average in other Dallas neighborhoods. Was the scruffy-looking man one of crime elements I needed to be worried about?

The stranger in Lillian kitchen was tall and broad-shouldered. His chestnut-colored hair was disheveled, as though he’d run his fingers through it recently. A heavy scruff covered his cheeks and circle a pair of thick lips that were pulled into a tight line.

“Get out,” I ordered in my best don’t-fuck-with-me voice and pointed toward the direction he’d just arrived. I might have been anxious about the stranger, but Baxter wasn’t. He greeted the man with a wiggly tail and excited yips, but of course, Baxter loved everyone.

He ignored me and continued to advance toward Lillian and me. My gaze flew around the kitchen for a weapon of any type, but honestly, our seated positions on the floor left us vulnerable.

PREORDER your copy TODAY at the LOW-LOW rate of $0.99!
Go to https://books2read.com/Rescued-Dog-Anthology  to order today!

Contest

OF COURSE, I have a giveaway!!

I’ll pick one person to win a $5 Amazon Gift Card, so leave a comment to be in the running!

I’m thrilled to be on Delilah’s blog today. I loved working with her on the latest Boys Behaving Badly anthology – COWBOYS. Writing my story, THE SCOUNDREL, reawakened my love of writing short stories, and I plan to continue writing short as well as the full novels I write for Entangled Publishing, and the series I self-publish.

Early in my career, I wrote a lot of erotic romances. It was ground-breaking back then (God, I feel so old!) and this was long before Fifty Shades. I’m not kidding when I say discovering erotic romance changed my life. I grew up a “good” girl in a rural area. Before the internet, before erotic romance, I didn’t know other women had sexual fantasies. I didn’t know it was okay to fantasize about blindfolds and handcuffs, or of being scared and aroused at the same time, or that pain and pleasure could be two sides of the same coin. I didn’t know it was okay to dream about sexual situations I’d never want to find myself in. Or that it was okay to dream about some I might want to.

I’m sure as Delilah’s readers, you know all about erotic romance and sexual fantasies, and it’s probably hard to imagine there was a time when you had to get your kicks from magazines like Playboy and Playgirl (and you had to gather enough courage to go up to the man at the register and ask for copies that were kept behind the counter) or maybe you could find erotica books like The Story of O or Anne Rice’s Beauty series, but I never read them until I could get them over the internet. But once I could buy an eBook in the privacy of my own home, it was a revelation. Suddenly, I wasn’t ashamed to explore my fictional fantasies, and I felt free to act on some of them, and I could even begin to write my own (believe it or not, it was a struggle for me to even type words like “cock” and “pussy” when I first started.)

I didn’t intend this post to be a history lesson, but just to explain that I will forever be grateful for the authors of erotic romance, and while I don’t focus my writing exclusively in that direction anymore, I will never stop writing it, never stop sharing my fantasies for other women to enjoy. And that is a long, and hopefully thought-provoking lead-in, to my newest release, one of 69 erotic shorts included in Cleis Press’s The Big Book of Orgasms, Volume 2, releasing on February 8^th, and available for pre-order now.

Publisher’s Weekly said “… 69 bite-size stories ideal for a quick, sensual break. Myriad settings—including alien planets, bathrooms, and sex parties—genres, kinks, and sexualities offer a little something for every erotica lover. Standouts include Natasha Moore’s “A Perfect Match,” about a husband who likes to watch his wife with her lover…” My first PW mention! And tons of sexual fantasies to explore.

Contest

Thanks to Delilah for inviting me to share with you today. I’m giving away one digital copy of one of my earlier erotic romance series, Paolo’s Playhouse. Five novellas in one collection that let readers explore several different fantasies.

Comment below for a chance at the giveaway. I’d love to know if you think erotic romance is getting commonplace now. Are readers tiring of it? Do you get enough of the sexy stuff in your other reading? Or do you still look for those stories that focus on sexual fantasies and, through them, give women freedom and power?

Natasha M.

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It’s O-dark-thirty in the morning as I post this. My quiet time. It being a weekend, my quiet won’t last long. Between COVID and cold house-bound kids and eight indoor animals that need feeding and walking, quiet only happens when everyone’s sleeping. Although, I do have an office in the basement to keep well out of the way of most foot traffic.

I have a puzzle for you! It’s not my usual, and my choice was likely influenced by all the hours of Deep Space Nine I’ve been watching. It will be challenging, so roll up your sleeves and get cracking! I’d love to hear what you think. My first impression was that I was disappointed it wasn’t purple or swamp green. My second was that I wanted the goggles. Finish the puzzle. Share your time if you like. And be sure to enter the CONTESTS below while there’s still time!

Open Contests

1. Your favorite fairytale…? (Puzzle-Contest) — This one ends soon! Win an Amazon gift card!
2. January into February… (Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!
3. Flashback: Baby, It’s You (Contest — 3 Winners!) — Win a FREE book! 3 WINNERS!
4. Happy Groundhog Day! (New Contest — and Open Contests!) — Win a FREE book!
5. Tell me a story… (Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!

UPDATE: The winner is…Deb Brown!
*~*~*

Before we start the fun…

After all the prep we did getting ready for the Ice-pocalypse, we only lost power for about forty minutes yesterday. Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with being over-prepared, and we did grill those hotdogs over the gas grill. So, we had some fun with it. I know a lot of people weren’t as fortunate, and I hope you aren’t freezing in the cold, but the Devlin house was spared.

Just thought I’d let you know. 🙂

Anyways, today’s contest involves a little effort. Very little effort, really.

Take a good look at the picture. Imagine what his story might be. And tell that story. In a line or a paragraph. Doesn’t have to be long or good. Just have fun. I’ll use a random number generator to choose a winner who’ll get a $5 Amazon gift card!

This picture says it all. It’s what our cars outside look like. The same can be said for our driveway, our roof—the trees look amazingly beautiful, but we’re starting to hear those cracks and crashes as limbs weighted down with ice begin to break!

I live in South-ish Central Arkansas. For days, forecasters have been warning us about a cold front that would dump ice-sleet-snow on our region and that there would be power outages across the state. Already 14,000 are without power in this region.

Well, the rains started last night. Early this a.m., the temps were at 32 degrees, and that’s the high for the day. Already, we’re below freezing, and it’s supposed to wind up in the teens before the end of the day. Some of y’all who live up north think that’s not a big deal. But here, where we’re not winter-hardened, it’s an ice-pocalypse! My daughter and I drew up a plan early yesterday to get ready, which included:

1. Buy propane for the outside grill
2. Buy food which doesn’t need refrigeration (Of course, that included lots of snacks!)
3. Buy paper plates and cups (Who wants dirty dishes to pile up on the counter?!)
4. Buy straw for the goat’s hut
5. Buy extra horse and goat feed
6. Board up the window in the barn so the horse will stay warm in the lean-to
7. Pre-position the generator and purchase gas to run it (that will power only our refrigerator and our cellphone chargers!)
8. Run pool so the pipes and the pool water don’t freeze
9. Gather all flashlights and lanterns and make sure they don’t need batteries.

Check, check, check, the effing-check… We’re ready.

My dd and I were up early this morning because power was still on, so the priority was COFFEE.

The power flickered off around an hour ago. We saw power company trucks drive by, half an hour later, the power is back on. We made more coffee.

We expect power to go off and stay off sometime today because conditions are expected to worsen.

So, I’m typing this as fast as I can—while I still can!

Y’all stay safe! Stay warm. Know what you have to do in case of an emergency! We’ll be roasting weanies over the firepit or the gas grill. We’re all good. Love you! ~DD

UPDATE: The winner is…Terra Oenning!
*~*~*

It’s Punxsutawney Phil’s big day! Will he see his shadow and “predict” another six weeks of winter weather? Or will he not, and usher in an early Spring? Either way, I am ready for the cold weather to GO—I say that as the weathermen have predicted a very cold and icy next few days here in Arkansas.

If I have time, I’ll watch one of my very favorite movies—Groundhog Day! Enjoy this scene where he first figures out the day has repeated…

“Do you ever have déjà vu, Mrs. Lancaster?”
“I don’t know, but I can check with the kitchen.”

I don’t know why that cracks me up every time!

So, question for you…for a chance for you to win a download of one of my backlist stories…

If Punxsutawney Phil predicts another six weeks of winter, what movies will you watch while sipping your hot cocoa?

Open Contests

1. Michal Scott: Thwarting the Danger of A Single Story — Maggie Lena Walker (Contest & Excerpt) — These ends soon! Win an Amazon gift card!
2. Your favorite fairytale…? (Puzzle-Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!
3. January into February… (Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!
4. Flashback: Baby, It’s You (Contest — 3 Winners!) — Win a FREE book! 3 Winners!

UPDATE: The winners are…Nicola O’Sullivan, Stacey Kinzebach, and K. Campos!
*~*~*

Before there were bounty hunters, there were SEALs. And I loved writing my Uncharted SEALs series. All those rugged, alpha heroes and strong heroines. Humor. Action. All the ingredients that make stories fun for me to write, and hopefully, fun for you to read.

With Uncharted SEALs, I experimented a bit. For the first time, I did sequels with the same characters—for the simple reason I couldn’t say goodbye to them. I wanted to see inside their Happy-Ever-Afters. Through Her Eyes and Between a SEAL and a Hard Place share the same main characters, as do Dream of Me and Heart of a SEAL. Big Sky SEAL gave birth to my Montana Bounty Hunters, introducing Jamie and Reaper, who as a result of their work in Big Sky earned their own satellite office of MBH. A fun theme I used in two of the stories was a cruise ship. Both Before We Kiss and Hard SEAL to Love are set on the same ship and have the same supporting characters. Plus, Hard SEAL to Love features a disabled female vet!

This time, I’d like you to read the EXPLOSIVE opening scene of Baby, It’s You…

Enjoy!

   

   

  

Click on the covers to learn more!

Contest

Win your choice of one of my Uncharted SEALs stories! There will be 3 winners! All you have to do to enter is answer me this…

Do you have plans for Valentine’s Day? Gimme more than a yes or no!

Baby, It’s You

Carter Vance, Jr. stands at the fork in the road. Wounded in action, the Navy SEAL has a decision to make: whether to find work with a spec ops unit or return to his family ranch in Texas and repair his fractured relationship with his dying father and the woman he wronged. Complicating the decision is his reignited attraction to Melanie Schaeffer and his confusion over his feelings for his dead brother’s little girl, whom Melanie has raised since his brother’s and her sister’s deaths by a terrorist’s bomb.

Excerpt from Baby, It’s You…

The morning that would change Melanie Schaeffer’s life forever began quietly enough. The whoosh of a curtain opening sounded a moment before sunlight spilled across her bed. Melanie rolled to her back to see the maid picking up clothing Melanie had left draped over a chair the night before.

A blush crept into her cheeks. She didn’t think she’d ever grow accustomed to having someone else handle her intimate items. “You don’t have to do that,” Melanie said as she pushed another pillow behind her head. “I can clean up after myself.”

The maid gave her a cheerful smile. “It’s my job. And I wouldn’t have woken you at all, but you did say you wanted to get used to the time change…”

Yes, there was that. After two days, she still felt a little muzzy-headed. The nine hours’ difference in time zones from Austin to this little city bordering Asia and the Middle East took some getting used to. Melanie rubbed her eyes and blinked, focusing on the sun peeking through the arched window and the view of the lovely, lush garden beyond it. Bushes exploding with large cabbage roses and tall, fruit-laden palms nearly obscured the ten-foot wall surrounding the estate nestled in the diplomats’ sector.

Never had she stayed in such a luxurious place, never slept in a softer bed, especially one covered in a plush white-and-blue damask duvet that felt as light as a cloud. So many luxuries to be enjoyed, but she felt uncomfortable surrounded by the opulence. And the last thing she wanted was to grow used to the amenities. At the end of summer, she would be heading back to her small, cramped apartment. Handsome U.S. ambassadors weren’t in her cards. More likely, she’d marry another teacher, and they’d settle into suburbia, worrying about the mortgage and their next car payment, and she was okay with that.

She glanced at the designer suitcase, the logo prominent on the side—something that cost more than the clothing inside it—a gift from her sister. One to which Cassie likely hadn’t given much thought, or she would have gifted Melanie with something simpler and sturdier.

Cassie wasn’t intentionally thoughtless. She’d likely told an aide to buy a case and ship it to her sister, never thinking the case itself would be an issue. Cassie had always been destined to have more in life. Always simply expected it. Stunning and smart, she looked like a movie star but spoke seven languages. That Cassie wanted her to be part of her life pleased Melanie, but she knew over time, they would drift farther and farther apart. Their worlds would never intersect.

The maid continued to tidy her bedroom, so Melanie rose and moved to the suitcase she still hadn’t unpacked. She laid it open on an upholstered bench and rummaged for an outfit, nothing anywhere near elegant enough for her present surroundings—plain dark slacks and a blue, long-sleeved cotton blouse. Something appropriately demure should she be seen by any of the locals employed by her brother-in-law. “Are my sister and the ambassador still here?” She threw the question over her shoulder as she strode to the bathroom.

“They’re taking breakfast in the kitchen. You’ll catch them if you hurry.”

Glad she’d managed to drag herself from bed earlier than the day before, she hurried through her ablutions and skipped down the stairs.

Melanie took a step through the kitchen door, then quickly backed out, not wanting to interrupt the tender embrace between Cassie and Daniel. Since her arrival, she’d witnessed several such kisses, and she doubted they’d be embarrassed. She was the one with the problem. Their passion made her edgy…and a little bleak.

Daniel couldn’t help that he looked so much like his brother that every time she saw him she felt a little twinge in her chest. After three years, she would have thought the nostalgic pain had diminished, but maybe she was a one-man woman. And maybe she needed to date more. She’d never forgotten her first real crush. No other man had ever made her feel the same intense desire.

She’d met Carter Vance at her sister’s wedding. The intense attraction still mystified her. He’d barely smiled in her direction, although they’d been best man and maid of honor, and were forced into each other’s company constantly throughout the week of activities leading up to the wedding. She’d blushed and struggled to be nice to the taciturn Navy SEAL, and he’d eyed her with a look that bespoke his impatience with all the hoo-hah surrounding the marriage of her sister to the ambassador, a local celebrity in their tiny town in Texas. Because Cassie and Melanie had no family to speak of, Daniel’s father had stepped in to give the couple a wedding befitting a Vance, a proud Texas family that had owned the Rocking V Ranch since Texas became a state in the Union. His father been kind and gracious, as had his brother Lee. They’d welcomed her into the family right along with Cassie, going to the extreme of talking her into transferring from Old Miss to the University of Texas at Austin so that she could visit during her breaks. They’d even paid the remaining years of her tuition. She’d graduated just a couple of weeks ago, and now, had time to think about what she wanted to do next. Grad school? Her teacher’s certification? She hadn’t quite made up her mind, and she didn’t want to impose any longer on Mr. Vance’s generosity. She wanted to start paying her own way.

Not that he ever voiced a bit of concern over the expense of her upkeep. All the Vance family had been wonderful to her, except for Carter, Jr. The week of the wedding, she’d noted she wasn’t the only one who’d earned his steely glances. A decided chill had been in the air every time father and son came too close together. Even after all these years, she didn’t know what had caused the rift or why it mattered so much to her. Why he mattered…

She cleared her throat and entered the breakfast room again to find her sister grinning and patting her hair.

“You’re up!” Cassie turned and smiled. “You really don’t have to see us off. You should have slept in. This is your vacation.”

Melanie shook her head and made a beeline for the toddler in the highchair. “You paid for my flight to get me here. The least I can do is play nanny to this munchkin while your au pair is back in the States and you both have to work.”

Cassie laughed. “I don’t work. Today, I’m just keeping the wife of the French attaché entertained while Daniel and his staff work on…whatever it is they’re discussing,” she said with a wave of her hand.

Daniel smiled, never moving his hands from her sister’s hips or his gaze from her shining eyes. “Madame Boucher is a very exacting guest. You, my dear, will earn your husband’s undying gratitude by keeping her happy.”

Her sister scrunched her nose then glanced downward at her outfit, a very stylish olive sheath.

A color that would have made Melanie look like death warmed over, but against Cassie’s dark hair and tanned skin, made her look very sophisticated.

“The last time we met she asked me if all consulate women shopped at Tar-zhay.”

Melanie giggled then bent closer to her niece to tug at a strawberry-blonde curl. “It’s just you and me, babe. What do you say we make you a bottle and watch some Dora the Explorer?”

“Doe-wah!” Emmy squealed and reached her chubby little hands upward.

Melanie’s heart did a little flutter. Never would she have imagined loving anyone on sight, but she was surely smitten by the cherub with cereal stuck to the side of her cheek. “Let me get a cloth, and I’ll clean you up.” She headed toward the sink.

Cassie gently pushed away Daniel’s hands. “I’ll get my purse. I wouldn’t want to add the sin of being late to the long list of things that woman will complain about.”

Daniel checked his watch. “We’ve got plenty of time. Atkins scoped out an alternate route. We’ll completely miss the protesters gathering by the north gate of the embassy.”

Cassie returned, pulling on a matching olive jacket, and paused beside the highchair to pat her little girl’s hair. “Be good for Melly today, sweetie.”

“I good,” the baby said, again raising her hands, “Kissh?”

“Last time I did, you mashed your food all over my clothes.” Instead, Cassie caught one hand and drew it toward her mouth to give the tip of each chubby little finger a kiss. “Love you, sweetums.” With a flutter of her fingers toward Melanie, her sister preceded her handsome husband out the door.

With their departure, quiet fell over the kitchen. Melanie took a deep breath, feeling a little guilty about the fact she was glad they were both gone. She’d have time alone with the little one, for them to bond and for Melanie to feel more relaxed. Because hey, her brother-in-law was her country’s ambassador to this little nation and lived in a freaking mansion. Her relationship with her sister wasn’t especially close; too many years divided them.

Cassie had gotten a job in the diplomatic corps right out of college and had only been home for brief visits, the last time to attend their parents’ funerals. And although Cassie did do her best to keep in touch—calling once a week, sending lavish gifts, even buying her a small, used car—Melanie didn’t feel comfortable around her more polished and sophisticated sister. Not like she did with the baby from the first moment they’d met.

She finished wiping the little girl’s fingers clean, removed the food tray, and lifted eighteen-month-old Emmy into her arms, just as she heard car doors slam outside on the cobbled driveway. Turning with the intention of walking to the window so the baby could wave goodbye to her parents, Melanie caught a bright flash of light in the corner of her eye, felt a brief moment of complete, airless silence, then felt herself hurled through the air as an explosion of sound and debris hammered against her body.

The moment lengthened, searing pain stung her cheek, and a scream rent the air. And as her arms tightened around the precious bundle still held tightly against her chest, Melanie fell into darkness.