UPDATE: The winners are…Shirley Long, Patricia Stanley, and Kate Kelly

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UPDATE: Part 4 is out!
Get your copy here!

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Did you love the first three installments of my short story series, With His SEAL Team, Parts 1-3? Yeah, they were short, but sizzling hot, right? Well, I’ve wrapped up Part 4. This time, we get to see the story from Hunter’s point of view! If you haven’t read the first three, click on the covers to check them out!

I don’t think Part 4 will be the last, but it depends on you. As always, if you love the story, and want more of my sexy SEALs, all you have to do is let me know! Part 4 should be live later tonight or tomorrow. I’ll be sure to update this post with the link when it does! Be looking for it!

Contest

Let me know in the comments whether you’ve read any of Sara’s and Hunter’s stories. I’ll choose three winners to gift a copy of their choices of one of the first three installments.

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Read an excerpt from Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His SEAL Team, Part 4…

I’m Hunter. It’s the name I was born with, and the name my SEAL buddies let me keep, due to my uncanny instinct for finding enemy combatants. I’m not an easy guy to know. Most women might give me a look, but there’s something in my eyes I’ve been told, that makes them wary about coming closer. A hint of violence that only freaks find sexy. Freaks—and Sara, my little sister. Stepsister, that is. Sara never seems to notice I’m a badass.

From day one, when our parents introduced us, she treated me as though I didn’t have a single hard edge and like my silences were invitations for her to speak. She was so chatty and flirty that first day, my dad had laughed his ass off, because he knew I had a certain reputation already, and she was oblivious to the danger. Blissfully so, because she couldn’t help hugging my arm and leaning into me, so happy to have a brother, she’d said, and “I can’t wait to do things with you, Hunt.”

“Hunter,” I’d ground out, not knowing how to shake off the pretty, blonde princess who wore pink from head to toe and had sparkles on her eyelids.

My dad had cleared his throat and given me a warning glare to play nice, but Sara hadn’t noticed how uncomfortable I was. Or, so I’d thought. I just hadn’t figured out how smart she really was, and how much my frowning resistance challenged her.

No, even during that first meet I’d felt a sense of doom weighing on my shoulders as she’d blinked her pink-sparkled lids and given me her wide-eyed stare. Her blue eyes had captured me, and I’d felt like I was falling. Right then, I’d felt my first stirring of arousal for the one girl who should have been completely off-limits.

However, Sara didn’t “do” boundaries. More than once, she’d flounced into my room in her undies to ask to borrow something—a pencil or a hairbrush—then root around my room, turning and bending, making sure I noticed her cute ass or how nicely her tits filled her bra.

Once, she’d even picked the bathroom lock to walk in on me while I’d jacked off. She’d paused in the doorway, then hurried inside, closing the door behind her, while I’d reached for a towel to hide my erection. She’d plopped onto the closed toilet seat and proceeded to tell me I had to let her watch or she’d tell my dad I’d “borrowed” his porn.

Sure she’d lose her nerve, I’d given her a steady glare and continued, all the way until I’d pumped come into the towel. I’d been angry, but also entranced, because while her cheeks had reddened, her nipples had poked against her T-shirt and her breaths had come faster. After that day, I stopped being shocked when she barged in to catch me nude in the shower or in my bed.

Fucking her had been inevitable. And sweeter than anything I’d ever experienced. And although I’d paraded other women in front of her, trying to do the right thing by ending her attraction—even after I’d joined the Navy and become a SEAL, with my own apartment, my separate life—I’d continued to allow her to invade my space. She’d show up at my place, smile at my girlfriends, then wait around for them to leave before doing her best to show me that she was the only girl for me.

When she couldn’t afford her apartment, I’d told her she could stay with me—until she got back on her feet. But she’s never left, and I’ve never asked her to.

Fact is, I need her. She’s my sunshine. When I come back from a mission feeling ready to shred something with my fists, she banishes the darkness. Only she can provide me sweet release from the ghosts that haunt me. She taunts me with lust and bad behavior. Teases me by flirting and fucking my friends.

She knows I like to watch her fuck. What she doesn’t know is that I don’t see them at all. Her face, her ever-changing expressions, fascinate me. Her body, to me, is perfection—supple, light gold skin stretched over tits that make me salivate and an ass that makes me hard when it twitches. Every undulating motion, every quiver and bounce, draws me deeper and deeper into lust for her. That my friends love her, too, is something I’m getting used to.

The way I see it—Sara will never be alone. If, someday, I catch a bullet or stomp on a mine, I know she’ll be devastated, but there will be three men ready to console her, look after her, and love her.

In the meantime, she’s ours to share. An arrangement that naturally progressed from me giving Sara a thrill by allowing my friends to catch glimpses of her naked, to letting them watch her being fucked by me. When I’d invited them to her bed, I’d had reservations, worried that my bond with Sara would be strained, until I’d noted the way she looked at me when she was with them, like this was our foreplay. I love my brothers, but I made it clear from the start that whatever happened was strictly for her pleasure. They were free to play, to enjoy her company, but she’d never be theirs.

Marco, Payton, and now Harley, are all respectful of my claim. They engineer “alone time” for the two of us. Like this morning. At dawn, the three tapped on my door to tell me they were headed to the gym, and then told me which bed Sara occupied.

Marco gave a waggle of eyebrows. “She’s sleeping.”

Which meant she wasn’t, and the game was on.

As I entered Harley’s bedroom, Sara was playing ’possum, pretending she still slept, although she knew that I knew she was faking it.

Now, I wore the smile I knew made her shiver—if she were able to turn and see it. But “little sis” wasn’t in any position to turn, or move in any direction for that matter. I’d found her nude on Harley’s mattress. Not even a sheet covering her body. She lay on her belly, her legs spread, her arms at her sides, and her face turned from the door.

Harley had left the door open, likely at her request. A tease for me. She liked setting up little seductive scenarios. Loved being caught doing something nasty. When Marco, Payton, and I were around, she went to great lengths to give us peeks of her body sure to incite us into acting.

This morning, she and I were alone in the house. So this little scene was meant for me. And I’d taken full advantage, hustling back to my bedroom to dig through my closet for the small duffel filled with items I’d collected for her pleasure.

While she “slept”, I fastened Velcro bonds around her ankles and attached them to rugged canvas bands I hooked to the bedrails, and then slowly tightened them to ease her legs farther apart. I did the same with her wrists, trying not to laugh as she’d muttered and snored, keeping up the act, although I could tell by her shortening breaths and the glaze on her pussy that she was getting very excited.

I’d had a week to hunt for just the right hardware to play out this fantasy while she’d been on a trip I’d paid for her—accompanying Harley on a special cruise for disabled vets. Although I’d urged her to go, every day she’d been gone had been an agony.

I doubted Sara knew how much I’d missed her. How I’d ached for her. No matter how many times I “cleaned my rifle”, I was left wanting. When they’d both returned, looking tanned and wearing lazy smiles, I’d ground my teeth, knowing Marco and Payton wanted a turn with her, too. I’d let them have her—even though it about killed me—because I’d seen the catlike curve of her mouth as she’d mounted Payton while he sat on the couch. I’d tensed the moment Marco came behind her, pushing away her hair to nibble on her shoulder while he’d slowly fed his cock into her ass.

When both men had begun to stroke her, Sara’s gaze had locked with mine, challenge gleaming in her baby-blue gaze. She’d driven me out of my mind—breasts bouncing, her bottom lip swelling as she bit it over and over, her back bowing as she’d come.

Yeah, I liked to watch her having sex with my best friends, but there always came a time where I had to have her to myself, to remind her who she belonged to—heart and sweet, hot pussy.

Here’s another book—revised, fresh new cover—ready for your pleasure! But be warned. This story’s truly an alphabet soup sex-fest. There’s mf, mm, mmf…and a very pissed off brother of the lucky heroine. (His story’s next!) I hope you’ll pick up a copy this weekend, and if you do, I hope you’ll take time to post a review or tell a friend.

One quick question: have you read my Lone Star Lovers series before?

Thanks for your support! And enjoy!

How does a girl choose between the bad boy who needs her and the boy next door she’s always loved?

Dani Standifer arrives home at her West Texas family ranch a day early, ready to pick up where she left off with Rowe Ayers, her high school sweetheart. However, when she opens the door to their line-shack trysting place, it’s clear she waited a day too long. Rowe’s with someone else—another man. And not just any other man— it’s Justin Cruz, the bad boy with whom she shared one wild encounter, years ago.

Justin’s waited a long time for this moment. He knows his reputation, but since he seduced Rowe, he’s been a one-man cowboy—waiting for Dani to return and become the delicious fulfillment of his and Rowe’s needs—if she’s up to the challenge.

To her own surprise, Dani finds she’s more than ready to have both men in her life—as soon as she and Rowe teach Justin a lesson or two about love.

Their small town may not be ready for their kind brand of loving. And Dani’s brother Cutter’s mile-deep grudge against Justin throws in a complication that could break the foundation the three of them hope to build…

Get your copy here!

So, have you read any of my Night Fall series? The 11th story in the series is set to release on April 25th! Woot! I promise if you start with that story, you won’t be lost, but wouldn’t you rather immerse yourself in the darkness? All the stories, except for Silent Knight and My Sweet Succubus are novellas. Those two are novelettes—slightly longer than short stories. So, you really do have time to blow through the books before Bad to the Bone arrives…

And it should go without my saying that ALL the stories are sexy as hell. Because I’m a tease, I’m letting you look inside the beginning of Bad to the Bone. Read all of chapter one below. See if you can resist ordering so you can have the rest of the story…  😉

For a chance to win your choice of one of my previously released
Night Fall series stories, answer me this!

Do you love paranormal romance? If so, what flavor of heroes
do you prefer—vampires, werewolves, other shifters, witches, fairies?

(Click on a cover if you’d like to learn more!)

Bad to the Bone

One night of pleasure…

His name is Viper–a dark mysterious enigma who rules the seedy, dangerous vampiric underworld. For one night, he will escape his murky prison and tempt an innocent.

…can last a lifetime…

Beautiful Mariah haunts him. Lures him from his den with a glimpse of his past. One she doesn’t remember. This night, he’ll be her dream lover. He’ll seduce her, make her fall in love with him–then leave her. Again.

One night of pleasure is all they must know.

But Viper leaves her a clue. One he hopes deep down will lead her back to him although he dreads the consequences, because he’s not the same man he was. He’s not a man at all…

Pre-order your copy here!

Excerpt from Bad to the Bone…

One week ago…

Slim hips swished beneath a short, flirty skirt, drawing his gaze like iron filings to a magnet. The splash of large pink flowers on white stood out like a beacon in the darkness. Beneath the hem stretched a pair of nude legs, toned, and nicely curved at the ankles. Perfectly made to lightly clasp a man’s waist as he slid into moist heat…

He suppressed a low, rumbling growl from the beast rising inside. Something he rarely bothered to do in the squalid dens he roamed most nights. The creature lurking deep within was a sexual animal, a lustful, ravenous host who found partners only too willing to let him feast. But this woman was different. Her soul was pure. Her mind unawakened to the darkness.

He followed her as she left her apartment, sticking to the shadows, ducking into stairwells when she looked behind her as though checking whether someone followed. A frown marred her smooth brow, and her lips tightened. The clip of her heels on the pavement quickened.

Shoulder-length, flyaway brown hair bobbed across the tops of slender shoulders. The creamy skin of her exposed arms and legs swung in a rhythm that his heart picked up and matched, beat for stride.

Feeling more than ever like the true predator he was, he tamped down the shame that burned like battery acid in his stomach and continued stalking the woman who walked more briskly now along the darkened sidewalk.

When she turned onto a crowded walkway, her shoulders sank and her footsteps slowed as she relaxed.

Now, as she mingled with others strolling along the promenade, she believed herself safe. Little did she know, but her “spontaneous” decision to leave her apartment had been at his suggestion—a message telegraphed with tantalizing snippets of the smell of fresh salt air, the caress of a soft breeze, and a glimpse of sensual pleasure.

She hadn’t heeded her own natural inhibition. Hadn’t paused to check the clock and note the waning evening hours. Instead, she’d made her decision, wriggled into a sexy little skirt and snug pink tee, slid her feet into strapless sandals and bounded down the stairs, ready to kick off winter’s gloom in an unseasonably warm spring night.

He’d made sure she didn’t glance even once at the calendar resting on the bureau in her foyer. Nothing would trigger a fleeting memory. And while he’d provided himself the opportunity to see her, he’d decided days ago he wouldn’t use his persuasive gifts to bring her straight into his arms.

Tonight, he wanted to savor a natural seduction. Read the rest of this entry »

Can you believe it? My sister and I started this writing journey back in 2000. That’s right! We’ve been at it for 17 years and are still going strong. After many years of languishing under the bed, we’ve had the pleasure of releasing several of our co-authored stories in the Texas Billionaires Club series. WHO’S YOUR DADDY is the 3^rd in the series and we have one more! LOVE & WAR. These books are different from my usual action and suspense, but they show the lighter, funnier side of our personalities. You see, when my sister and I get together, we love to laugh. And when we do, we sound like cackling hens, which makes us laugh more. To some it might sound ridiculous, to us, it’s joyful and leaves us in happy tears. I challenge each of you to find something to laugh about today. Make it a deep, belly-laugh. They’re the best kind. And if you like to laugh, give WHO’S YOUR DADDY a try!

Who’s Your Daddy?

Amazon | Nook | Kobo | IBooks | GooglePlay

Rachel Taylor is an advertising executive who wants a baby without the complications of a husband. Jesse Jordan is just the cowboy to complicate Rachel’s neatly laid plans.

Feeling her biological alarm clock ticking, Rachel single-mindedly embarks on a search for a suitable sperm donor.  She begins her search by engaging the services of Date-Your-Mate dating service. Yet, even with the less exacting scrutiny of her best friend, Genie, she doesn’t find that certain man to spark her interest enough to be willing to procreate with him. Her next move is to place an ad in a singles column, arranging to meet each of the candidates in the neutral zone of a bar. But after a discouraging round of interviews with her hopefuls, and consuming a few too many drinks, she declares that the next man who walks through the door will be the father of her child.

In walks Jesse, the golden-haired, billionaire cowboy, whose charm and good looks automatically inspire fairy tale dreams.  Rachel’s only objection is that he is one of her clients at her advertising agency and she refuses to mix business with her personal life. He’s also one of Texas’s most eligible bachelors, who has a reputation for playing fast and loose with his women. The fastidious Rachel refuses to consider him as a possible donor.

Jesse isn’t nearly the bad boy the tabloids paint him to be. One look into Rachel’s soft brown eyes, and he finds a powerful attraction to the starchy ad executive. Her apparent disinterest only increases the challenge of the chase.

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