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Archive for the 'About books…' Category
Tuesday, August 23rd, 2016
Dear Readers and Friends,
This is just a quick warning! Sweet Succubus released after midnight last night, and those of you who pre-ordered have it waiting on your eReaders. BUT THERE IS A PROBLEM! I accidentally uploaded the wrong version to Amazon–a short, placeholder version. This morning, when I realized my error, I uploaded the final version then contacted Amazon to let them know. Hopefully, they will be able to “push” the finalized, corrected version to your eReaders soon (crossing my fingers, today!). So, what am I saying? Wait to read it until I can come back and tell you it’s ready.
I’m so sorry for the confusion. If you’ve already opened the book, just know that I know there’s an issue! And I’m working on it. Later, alligators!
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Posted in About books... | Comments Off on Mea Culpa! Wait! Sweet Succubus is ALMOST here! | Link
Saturday, August 20th, 2016
Ready for something hot and quick to read this weekend? I have just the thing—a sexy little story about a woman who purchases an estate that comes with a butler she didn’t know she needed…
Enjoy stepping inside Kendall’s world as the butler teaches her the true meaning of service…
The Butler is just $0.99! And if you are a Kindle Unlimited subscriber, you can pick up a copy for free!
Plus, if you tell me your Saturday plans, whether it’s kicking back with a sexy story or grocery shopping, you’ll be entered to win a small Amazon gift card!
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Yes, the butler did it!
When a newly wealthy woman purchases a remote estate in Virginia, a butler comes with the contract. His subtle manipulations fuel a desire she never expected.
Purchase at Amazon!
Read an excerpt from The Butler below!
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An Amazon #1 bestselling short story!
When Sara’s stepbrother surprises her with an early return from a mission, he brings two of his Navy SEAL teammates along…
Get your copy here!
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Have you pre-ordered your copy?
Melanie Bradshaw is driven to desperation by her torrid dreams. When she finally acts on her desires, things go horribly wrong, and she witnesses the murder of an overly amorous lounge lizard–whose body disintegrates before her eyes.
Detective Moses Brown isn’t thrilled to get another “full-moon case”…until he meets the delectable Melanie, who took a walk on the wild side straight into vampire territory. Moses doesn’t know why vamps are interested in her, but until he can discover the reason, he’s going to stick to her like glue, doing his best to ignore their instant attraction.
But pretty little Melanie has designs on his body. Her hunger for sex is voracious, even downright insatiable. As the mystery surrounding her begins to unravel, keeping her safe–hell, keeping himself safe from her–presents some interesting complications…
Get your copy here!
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Read an excerpt from The Butler!
Grant stepped into the doorway, one of his small smiles curving his perfect, firm lips. “I was passing by, is there anything I can do for you?”
He rarely asked anymore. Was simply there, with whatever I needed. Hearing his voice, so deep and even, I was filled with the almost overwhelming urge to ask him to give me an orgasm.
Instead, I moved to make sure the computer screen, filled with a smutty love scene, was hidden behind me. “Do you like this room, Grant?”
He arched a brow, wariness entering his expression until his neutral mask fell into place. “Is there something that doesn’t please you? Do you need a lamp at your desk?”
Pursing my lips and narrowing my eyes, I stared. It had been a while since I’d been engaged in another of his manipulations over furnishings. The thought of engaging in one now made my nipples prickle. “There are too many books,” I said, and then grinned. I couldn’t help it. An edgy horniness was willing me to misbehave.
“It is a library, ma’am,” he said, his tone dry.
“Kendall, Grant. We share a house. You can use my name.”
“I’m in your service, ma’am.”
I blew out a breath and wished instantly that I’d bothered to slick my lips with something more dramatic than a pale gloss.
His head tilted to the side, those intelligent green eyes narrowing. “Ma’am, are you bored?”
“And if I am?”
“There are horses in the stable…”
I gave a long dramatic sigh. “It’s cold outside.”
“I could build you a fire in the hearth, bring you a brandy.”
A warm fire, brandy, him naked on a soft, sheepskin rug… I straightened and shook my head to clear the image. I didn’t dare let my thoughts stray any further. “A fire and a glass of brandy would be nice. Maybe you could choose something for me to read,” I murmured. “Something without too many big words.”
His lips pressed together, but then he chuckled. “All right then, a fire, a brandy, and a good book…without too many big words. Ma’am.”
I grinned back at him, feeling comfortable with his amusement and attention for the first time. “This house was too much for me, wasn’t it? I don’t know why I bought it.”
“You have good taste,” he said, rubbing his hands together and entering the room. He strode for the fireplace, set three logs in the stand at the center of the large hearth, and placed kindling beneath it. Minutes later flame licked at the bottoms of the logs.
Moving toward a walnut sideboard, he poured a snifter of brandy, swirling it as he cupped the base to warm the liquid. “Would you like to move to the couch?”
I stood, my body feeling fluid, my hips swaying as I approached him. Our gazes locked, and then his flicked downward to the glass he held.
“Why not pour one for yourself?” I said softly. “Join me.”
Again, his gaze narrowed, but he gave a slow nod. “If it pleases you.”
“It does.”
Together, we settled on the dark leather, on opposite ends, me with my knees drawn up and sitting sideways to stare at him, while Grant sat, one arm draped on the back, the other holding his glass, his gaze studying me.
Suddenly, I was uncomfortable. Didn’t the man know how to make polite conversation? Or did he really want to be somewhere else? Irritated, I said, “You should ask me how the writing is going?”
He arched a brow. “How is the writing going?”
I nodded my approval. “Slowly. I thought I’d be able to write with the peace and quiet in the country.”
“But you’re bored.”
“Not precisely…”
“Not precisely bored…?”
“I keep thinking about your butler’s buttons,” I blurted, letting my gaze drift away as a blush warmed my cheeks.
“As a clue or a thread in your story?”
I shook my head. “I guess the problem is that for the most part we’re alone in this house. You off in your quarters. Me, alone, in mine.”
His head rose then slowly dipped. “I see.”
Did he really?
“You haven’t used the buttons. Not once.”
Why, oh why, had I mentioned the damn buttons? It was as though I’d released the floodgate holding back my words. The next sentence escaped before I could hit the edit button. “Because I’m afraid I’ll be tempted to use them for more than the…customary services.”
“As you’ve said,” he murmured. “We’re alone in this house. And I am here to serve…”
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Tagged: short story
Posted in About books..., Contests!, News | 13 People Said | Link
Last 5 people who had something to say: Janet Overstreet - Linda Womack - Jen B. - Mary Preston - Charlene -
Tuesday, August 16th, 2016
Dear Readers and Friends,
First, thanks to everyone who purchased Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His SEAL Team! The story is still #1 on Amazon in short reads! And thanks for letting me know you want more of Hunter’s and Sara’s adventures!
Ready for a much longer sort of read? Do you love medieval stories? How about a story about a very modern girl thrust into a warrior’s camp in 1136 AD? Jacq’s story is near and dear to my and my sister’s hearts. We wrote this adventure story together. And now, we’d love to share it with you! Enjoy the excerpt! Let me know what you think!
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A Medieval Timetravel Romance!
With proportions that would make Xena weep, Jacqueline Frazier despairs of ever finding a lover she can’t intimidate. Until the day she ignores a warning regarding use of a family heirloom, and finds herself swept off her feet by a knight in not so shining armor, back to the twelfth century. Forced to accept the protection of an overbearing, beast of a man, Rufus of Rathburn, Jacq struggles to find her place in the past while seeking a way back to the future. In the meantime, she aids Rufus’s war cause with a little 21st century ingenuity, shaking up the warlord with lessons in bomb-making, guerilla tactics, and the joys of sex.
At first unwilling, and ungrateful, Rufus begins to see merit in Jacq’s odd ways. Through Jacq’s eccentricities and willfulness, Rufus learns she is a woman to be reckoned with, as well as a lusty handful in bed. Will his admiration of her cunning, strength and uninhibited sexuality grow into a love that breaks the barriers of time? And will their love be strong enough for Jacq to plot a different future in the past?
Get your copy here!
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Read an excerpt!
“Damnation!”
Rufus landed on his rear at the entrance of his tent. He saw the silvery glint of stars for a moment before realizing the flashing metal was the water ewer bouncing away. Instinct saved him a second knot on his forehead as he threw up his arm to deflect the next object lobbed at his head. He rolled to his knees and lunged upwards to face his angry adversary.
His breath caught. She was magnificent! Her hair was in disarray around her shoulders, and her chest heaved with fury. Bright blotches of color stained her cheeks, and the determined set of her chin and narrowed eyes warned him this would not be an easy conquest.
And she had prepared well. His two war chests stood stacked one on top of the other, and he saw a number of objects on the ground beside her feet—ammunition for the battle to come. The chests stood as a shield between them.
“I take it you’re upset,” he said mildly.
Her lips curled back in a feral smile as she hefted the copper water basin.
Aware of her intent, he feinted to the left.
Jacq modified her aim before the bowl left her hand.
The copper vessel spun through the air and caught Rufus directly at his midsection. “Oomph!” He rubbed his stomach. She certainly didn’t throw like a girl. “You were placed under guard in this tent for your own protection,” he began, hoping to reason her out of her present course of action. He could easily overpower her but didn’t want to cause her harm, and he hoped the physical venting would aid both their libidos.
Her left hand balanced his helmet.
“Now, see here,” he protested. “I haven’t a smith with me to repair that.”
Her arm came back, and the helmet flew at his shoulder.
Instead of ducking, Rufus reached out to catch the heavy armor. While fumbling with both hands to keep the helmet from crashing to the floor. He felt another painful thud against his back and saw a stone roll away.
“Enough!” he roared. His patience quickly dwindled as the bruises to his skin and pride accumulated. He leapt toward the barricade.
The tantalizing tempest circled, remaining just out of reach.
With a powerful swipe of his arm, he connected with the upper chest, flinging it across the tent. He jumped over the remaining one only to stumble to his knees when her foot connected with his ankle. His curses blistered the air.
Then she had the nerve to laugh out loud, spinning out of reach.
A voice called from outside the tent. “Rufus, do you need aid?”
“Stay out of this, Donald.” He heard muffled guffaws and felt his face grow hot. He’d been tolerant long enough. “Cease, woman.” He rose to his feet, expecting another impact.
Instead, she faced him with his own sword held between her two hands.
“Don’t be foolish. If you choose to use that, you will not take two steps outside this tent without being cut down.”
She faced him calmly, her breath slowing as her hands moved on the pommel of the sword. Despite her bravado, her upper arms trembled with the effort of holding the weapon aloft.
“You will explain to me why you have made a shambles of my tent, and why you attacked me,” he demanded.
“You put that beast on me as a guard,” she yelled back.
He was relieved she at last broke her silence. Her quiet determination had begun to unnerve him. “I placed Beast there for your protection.” He needed to keep her talking while his mind sought a solution to this present coil.
“That’s his name?” She looked appalled then she shook herself. “He never left me.”
Irritated she didn’t seem to appreciate his care, he gritted out, “Those were my orders.”
“You ordered him to stay with me, even when I relieved myself?” Her voice rose toward the end.
Ahhh…he understood now. Her woman’s sensibilities had been offended. “His orders were to keep you in his sight at all times.”
“Well, your protection stinks. I don’t accept it any longer. You’ll provide me with a horse and weapons. I’m leaving.”
“You may leave when you tell me who you are and what you were doing on that battlefield yesterday. That is your only choice.” He stiffened his stance. “And do not think I will let you ride out of here without escort.”
Her eyes narrowed and her hands tightened around the pommel. “Then you’d best be prepared for a battle, because I don’t accept the terms under which you hold me captive.”
“Woman, did this morning not teach you a lesson?” he asked, frustration pounding at his temple. “You need my protection. Or did you enjoy cavorting naked before a company of men?”
“Augh!” At last, her anger made her careless. Lunging toward him with his upright sword, she managed a creditable swipe of the blade. He dodged it and stepped around the tent to keep outside her reach.
“Rufus, what is going on in there?” Donald’s worried face appeared at the opening.
Jacq turned toward the sound.
Rufus took advantage of her distraction to edge farther along the circumference of the tent. “Not now, Donald. As you can see, I am busy.”
She swung back, her gaze narrowing, her hands shifting on the hilt.
Donald’s eyebrows rose as his glance fell on the woman. “Well, Rufus, I will leave you to your game. Shout, if you need assistance.”
“Go!” Rufus ordered.
Donald disappeared behind the canvas, his laughter ringing out clearly in the early evening air.
Odds were, the whole camp would know in minutes that a woman held him at bay—with his own sword! “It seems, lady, we are at an impasse.”
“No, you’ll agree to my terms, or I’ll run you through.”
Her face appeared set, and he wondered if she truly had the courage to try. “Donald,” he yelled.
“Yes, Rufus?” came his answer through the tent walls.
“If you see the woman walk out of this tent first, you will not allow her to leave this camp.”
“If that woman walks out of the tent on her own two feet, I’ll wed her myself and breed sons on her.” Donald’s voice held amusement.
Rufus’s gaze never left hers, but he allowed an eyebrow to quirk upward.
Jacq’s face reddened, and her eyes betrayed a hint of moisture. “I can do this.”
“Madam, you have the advantage at the moment, but only because I allow it.”
“You allow it? I hold your sword.” Her voice shook along with the hands drooping under the continuous strain of holding the heavy weapon.
“You have one more chance to put down my sword and talk to me about this, or I will take it from you.”
“I dare you to try—”
That was all the encouragement Rufus needed. He lunged.
Jacq stepped backward, only to catch the backs of her knees on the overturned chest directly behind her. She flailed her arms outwards, choosing to lose the sword rather than risk impaling herself.
The weapon thudded against the canvas and hard-packed earth.
But Jacq never hit the ground.
Rufus caught her and pulled her up tightly against his chest.
~~~
Before her mind could tell her she should resist, she’d been shoved against the square wooden beam that served as the tent’s center pole. She was trapped once more by his overwhelming strength. For a few moments, she struggled. Eventually, her puny attempts ceased, and she conceded, slumping wearily against him. She dragged air into her lungs and forced up her gaze to meet his, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing defeat stamped on her face.
He held her easily, subduing her.
She recognized the awesome power of his muscled arms and thighs. She’d never stood a chance.
“Rufus, talk to me. It’s too quiet in there. Is all well?” Donald asked.
“Yes, I have her now.”
“Well, then I’ll go on to dinner. Unless, that is, you need help…”
“No, I have everything well in hand,” he answered evenly.
His gaze remained on her, his face betraying no emotion. Jacq worried now the fire of her self-righteous anger was banked. What reprisal would he seek against her for the attack?
His breathing was even, and other than a slight flush across his cheeks, he appeared unaffected.
She wished she could say the same, but that odd combination of fear and excitement thrummed along her veins. Her breaths shortened and her body softened, yielding to his. Molten liquid dampened the juncture of her thighs, and she was helpless to stop the slight undulation of her hips.
As though he sensed her ripening arousal, his nostrils flared. When he leaned ever so slightly closer, her head fell back to grant him access to her mouth. Through half-closed eyes, she watched him stare at her mouth, and she wantonly slid her tongue in a circle to wet her lips. She heard his groan a moment before his lips slammed down on hers.
For an angry kiss, it was a doozy. She learned his taste while battling for control of this joining. They parried—mouths open, tongues stabbing.
Then something happened that shifted the kiss from another battle between steel-willed adversaries to a burning need to brand and possess each other.
His palms captured her cheeks and held her while his mouth ate hers, his lips dragging over hers in drugging circles.
Jacq mewled and tugged at his hair, her tongue sliding against his, lapping and sucking, until they were both breathless.
He ground his rigid cock against her lower belly, and she relented, widening her legs to make room for him to step between. His hands raked her skirt upward, then his knees dipped slightly, and her feet left the ground.
She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and lifted her legs to encircle his waist.
They both groaned into each other’s mouths as their bodies met with only the fabric of his braies separating their straining loins.
Held high against him, her body open to his, she rubbed her moistening pussy along his length, entering a rhythm matched by their circling mouths. Jacq’s world narrowed to that burning juncture where Rufus rutted against her, the fabric chafing her tender flesh.
Animalistic grunts and groans rose between them.
Mindless now, Jacq forgot why she shouldn’t be doing this with him. She forgot she didn’t even like him—her body adored him.
His hands cupped her buttocks, squeezed and released, over and over, encouraging her to rub frantically up and down against his cock.
Suddenly clothes were too confining, and she was desperate to feel the steel of his shaft inside her. She broke the kiss. “Please!” she gasped, even as her hips rolled again.
The muscles of his buttocks bunched beneath her heels as he straightened with her in his arms and walked the short steps to her pallet. He knelt, holding her pressed to him, and lay her down amid the furs.
She writhed against him and repeated in a long, keening wail, “Please, now, Rufus.”
He rose up on his knees and dragged her bliaut over her head. Then he rent the neck opening of her borrowed shirt to the waist, shoving the ragged edges aside to expose her breasts. Rufus leaned over her and nuzzled her breast. “Jacq,” he groaned, and his mouth opened over one straining crest. He sucked it hard into his mouth.
She nearly screamed from the pleasure. But still too many clothes were between them. She wanted to touch skin.
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Tagged: medieval, timetravel
Posted in About books..., News | Comments Off on Warrior’s Conquest is here! | Link
Wednesday, August 10th, 2016
This one’s coming your way on August 23rd! If you love vampires and other wicked-sexy creatures that go bump in the night, you’ll likely love this little story. My hero Moses Brown is as yummy as they come! And this is an inter-species and interracial story. Enjoy the excerpt!
Sweet Succubus
Melanie Bradshaw is driven to horny desperation by her torrid dreams. When she finally acts on her desires, things go horribly wrong and she witnesses the murder of an overly amorous lounge lizard–whose body disintegrates before her eyes.
Detective Moses Brown isn’t thrilled to get another “full-moon case”…until he meets the delectable Melanie, who took a walk on the wild side straight into vampire territory. Moses doesn’t know why vamps are interested in her, but until he can find out, he’s going to stick to her like glue, doing his best to ignore their instant attraction.
But pretty little Melanie has designs on his body. Her hunger for sex is voracious, even downright insatiable. As the mystery surrounding her begins to unravel, keeping her safe—hell, keeping himself safe from her—presents some interesting complications…
Pre-order your copy today!
Excerpt
Do you want the left or the right side of the bed?
Already stripped to his briefs, Moses glanced behind him at the bedroom door and grunted. The shower had stopped running. Maybe now he’d stop thinking about her being naked and wet and less than twenty feet away.
Despite her invitation, he was taking the couch in her small living room. She’d been scared and wanted someone, anyone trustworthy, close by. But so long as the door remained open between them, she’d feel secure enough to sleep. He didn’t dare read anything more into her word choice.
Glancing down at the wood tenting his underwear, he figured she’d be the only one getting any rest. From the moment he’d breathed in her fragrance, stood close enough to see the fine porcelain quality of her skin, and looked into her soft brown eyes, he’d been as hard as a post.
He’d give anything for a few minutes alone in a soundproofed room to relieve the ache, but her apartment was small and the walls paper-thin. She’d know, and he didn’t want her uncomfortable with him. Didn’t want her to be afraid he’d made the suggestion of accompanying her home just to get into her bed.
As soon as he’d followed her into her tiny apartment, she’d been nervous, her glance cutting to him and darting away. No doubt he looked like a bull in a china shop. Too large and intimidating for her to relax. He’d shooed her to the shower then, with gritted teeth, listened to the whispers of her clothing as she undressed in the other room.
Moses rubbed a hand over the top of his head and sat on the edge of the couch. His phone vibrated on the coffee table. He reached for it and flipped it open. “Dammit, Viper. What the hell’s goin’ on?”
Viper’s chuckle was anything but amused. “I don’t know how she ended up in the club, but the moment she came through the door, every one of Zachary’s fledglings went on the alert. They knew her. You have to figure out how. And you have to lie low. Keep her caged. They’ll be hunting.”
“Did you have to dust the dude right in front of her? She’s freaked.” His chest pinched. “And I don’t know how much to tell her.”
“That’s up to you, man.” A loud yawn sounded through the receiver. “Have to talk later—after I talk to another of Zachary’s boys. It’s dawn. If it’s just vampires, you’ll be safe until dusk. Later.”
Moses grunted again and set aside the phone then turned and stretched out on the couch.
The door creaked, footsteps padded his way. He flipped the sheet she’d given him, covered his hips, then leaned up on an elbow to peer over the couch.
She hovered near the bedroom doorway, a thin nightgown draping her slender curves. “I just wanted to make sure you’d be all right…on the couch.” Her teeth bit into her bottom lip. Her eyebrows drew together.
She didn’t look worried, but rather, annoyed. Moses gave her a faint grin. “It’s a little short. The couch, I mean.”
“I could sleep here. You can have the bed.”
He shook his head, knowing he’d be in hell sleeping in sheets drenched with her feminine scent. “Get some shuteye, Melanie. You’re safe.”
She remained in the doorway, her expression awash with indecision. “Why are you doing this?”
“I’m one of the good guys,” he murmured, wanting her to relax. Needing her to move inside her bedroom so he could relax.
She came closer, hovering beside the couch.
Her expression was fluid, gliding from anxious to something he was afraid to read too much into. Cursing himself for being a horn-dog, he dropped his legs to the floor and sat up, careful to keep the sheet masking his hard-on. “Sit.”
“Okay.” Melanie came around the couch and hesitated over the space he’d made, then, instead of sitting beside him, eased over his lap.
Moses held his breath, his hands clenching the edge of the sofa. “Melanie, what’re you doin’?”
Her hands clutched together in her lap; she didn’t meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anyone else.”
She sat square on his erection, crowding it down against his thigh. Not something she could miss, but she wasn’t shying away.
All she wants is comfort, he reminded himself. “Well, hell,” he muttered, and raised his arms to enfold her. He sat back, taking her with him, letting her curves settle against his chest.
“You want me,” she said bluntly.
Moses rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and how do you know that?”
She snuggled closer to his chest, wriggling her soft ass against his growing erection. “Do you really need me to answer that?” she asked. Before he could respond, she continued, “And…you’re very nice.”
“I’m not,” he said, starting to sweat as her bottom shifted again. He wished he could clutch her hips and hold her still, but the thin fabric of her nightgown was hardly any barrier at all. “Don’t kid yourself.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” she whispered, her face nuzzling into his neck before she tilted back her head to meet his gaze.
“Mind what?” he asked, lungs tightening.
“Sharing a bed.” She ground down against his cock. “Taking care of this. I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me a damn thing.” But girl, I’m not shoving you off my lap either, am I?
“I was looking for a hook-up,” she whispered, swallowing before looking away. “It’s why I went to the bar.”
A hook-up. With a stranger. His stomach turned. Why that bothered him so much wasn’t something he wanted to examine too closely.
The fact that she looked away briefly was telling. As much as he wanted to fuck her, he wasn’t about to take advantage of the fact that, obviously, she was scared and embarrassed. His hand caressed her back. “Why don’t you have a boyfriend? You’re pretty. Plenty sexy. You shouldn’t have to resort to havin’ sex with a stranger.”
“I haven’t lived here all that long. I haven’t met anyone. I work in a library with a bunch of women.” She raised her head, cupped the side of his face with her palm, and swiped a thumb over his bottom lip. “I’ve wanted to feel this mouth on my skin since I first saw you.”
Moses growled deep in his throat. But he shook his head, striving for sanity, for safety, one last time. Last thing he needed was to get mixed-up with her. Mixed-up with anyone. He walked in a dangerous world. The darkness clung to him like dirt. Sometimes, it followed him home.
Even though it killed him, he said, “I’m not what you want, sweetheart.”
She gave a soft snort. Her lips tightened. “Look, truth of the matter is, I’m scared as hell. Freaked out, really.” Her fingers tightened into a ball on his chest. “And I know what I want…what I need,” she said, swallowing hard, “is dick.”
Moses blinked, not believing what just came out of her sweet mouth.
Reminder: Yesterday’s contest is still open!
Tagged: Night Fall, police, vampire
Posted in About books... | Someone Said | Link
Last 5 people who had something to say: Cazza -
Tuesday, August 9th, 2016
A quick reminder! This offer ends today!
Last Day Free!
A woman desperate to escape her marriage bed wages a “war of the bath” against her handsome, brutish husband…
This story is FREE today!
Get your copy now!
Thank you!
And thanks to those of you who bought my two latest releases! It’s much appreciated. And I am hearing loud and clear that y’all want sequels for With His SEAL Team! A couple of you are hoping Harley comes into the picture, too! Naughty girls! If you haven’t picked up a copy of either SEAL story yet, just click on the covers…
 
The Question
When is it too many? In a menage, I mean. I’ve written menage scenes with as many as 6 people in a very large bed, although most often it’s three or four. And I don’t seem to have a problem keeping all those moving parts connected to the right player. So choreography isn’t the issue. 🙂 So, you tell me.
What is your favorite number?
One lucky commenter will get a small Amazon gift card! Don’t be shy!
Tagged: knight, medieval, SEAL, short story, Uncharted SEALs
Posted in About books..., Contests! | 23 People Said | Link
Last 5 people who had something to say: debi - Pamk - Michelle - Mary McCoy - Tammy Morse -
Saturday, August 6th, 2016
Since just Tuesday, I’ve had two new releases! And they couldn’t be more different. One’s set in a medieval castle, the other’s set on a Texas ranch. One features a sexy knight in armor. The other features a wounded vet donning a cowboy hat. And you’ll be wanting to read both, I have no doubt. But I’m running a special deal, for just a a few days on the knight to save your pocket book, so you can afford to buy both. And can you think of a better way to spend your weekend than curled up with your eReader meeting Roland the knight and Carter the SEAL? You know you want to…
First, because this one’s more urgent…
Tamed by a Knight
A woman desperate to escape her marriage bed wages a “war of the bath” against her handsome, brutish husband…
This story is FREE for a very limited time!
Get your copy now!
This one, you don’t want to resist…
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.
Get your copy now!
And one final note…
Thanks for making this a #1 bestselling short story!
When Sara’s stepbrother surprises her with an early return from a mission, he brings two of his Navy SEAL teammates along…
Get your copy now!
What readers are saying:
“…erotic writing at its best…”
“…This book was fabulous… A fun story, a whole story, interesting dialogue, and hot, hot, scenes. Well worth your time. I’ll be seeking out more by this author.”
Tagged: knight, medieval, SEAL, stepbrother romance, Uncharted SEALs
Posted in About books..., News | 2 People Said | Link
Last 5 people who had something to say: Yolaine Clark - Delilah -
Tuesday, August 2nd, 2016
UPDATE: The winner is…Colleen C!
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Have you ordered your copy? Do you love Navy SEALs? Cowboys? Reunion stories? Well, if you do, Baby, It’s You should please you. I’ve included an excerpt below, just in case you’re waffling. 🙂
The story will release in the early morning hours on Friday. And yes, it’s every bit as sexy its cover. So, take the plunge. Have I ever steered you wrong?
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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.
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Read an excerpt
Carter walked into the house and had to remove his glasses due to the dimness inside. Nothing appeared to have changed, save for a new carpet atop the oak floors in the family room. He supposed his father had replaced the raggedy Navajo rug his mother had chosen due to Melanie’s influence. His father had always had a soft spot for women and girls.
Footsteps flew from the kitchen, so fast he tensed until he realized the person wasn’t some insurgent, but instead a slender little girl in blue jeans and boots. Emmy.
Carter didn’t want to feel it, but his chest filled with a sudden indrawn breath as he stared for the first time at the little girl with the red-gold curls. Daniel’s child. His now, by law. Despite his best effort to thwart his brother’s will by simply ignoring the lawyer’s letters.
Commander Callahan had stepped in and forced him to acknowledge his duty. And although he’d decided not to take her himself, Carter had changed his will, signed over his life insurance, and had payments removed from his checks to provide for her support although she hardly needed it.
Lastly, he’d assigned guardianship to Melanie Schaeffer, knowing he was giving the little girl her best chance.
Emmy stopped only a foot away and chewed on her bottom lip as she frowned up at him. “You the seffish bastard who won’ come see Gampa?”
“Emmy!” Melanie’s voice came from behind him as she hurried past to kneel beside the girl. “That’s not a word we use.”
“But Tildy said I was seffish for eatin’ all the snickerdoodles.”
“The B word, Emmy.” Melanie blew out a breath. “We don’t use that word.”
“But Unca Lee says it all the time.”
“Uncle Lee needs to be more careful with his words,” Melanie muttered. She lifted her gaze to Carter. “Sorry about that. This one hears everything and repeats it. Be warned.”
Carter couldn’t help freeing the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Sounds like she’s a Vance, through and through.”
Melanie slowly rose to face him.
Without the shield of his sunglasses, he hoped his gaze didn’t give him away. She was still lovely, despite the white scar that trailed down one cheek. Her face was still rounded and youthful. Her curves every bit as lush as they’d been the first day they’d met. He felt a stirring in his groin and grimaced. “I should unpack,” he said, lifting his duffel bag.
“Sure,” she said, tucking a lock of thick red-gold hair behind her ear. Still flustered, she barely met his gaze.
Seeing her fingers freeze beside her ear, he knew she remembered how he’d tucked her hair there, right before he’d kissed her. Or was she pausing because she’d forgotten the hair hid the worst of the scar. His chest tightened.
“You should see your father,” she said softly.
“That’s why I’m here,” he said, knowing his tone had roughened. From sympathy for the pain she’d suffered. Not because her tone chided him to move along. His relationship with his father, or rather, the lack of, wasn’t her business. Dropping his gaze, he bent toward Emmy and reached out, lifting her small chin with a finger. “Good to meet you, Emmy.”
Her green eyes flashed, and a coy smile plumped her small doll’s mouth. “Nice to meet you, Unca Carter.”
As he walked away, he acknowledged the shard of pain that stabbed at his gut. He’d been an ass ignoring her existence. But that could change. If he took the job in Dallas, rather than return to his unit, they’d all have to put up with his regular visits.
He climbed the stairs, slower than he would have liked. The repaired ligaments surrounding his knee were still tender and would be for months. His knee worked well enough, but he hadn’t gone to therapy in a week, and stiffness was setting in. Once he reached the upstairs landing, he strode toward the door at the end—the master suite his father had shared with his mother.
The door opened. An older woman, her face lined, her hair iron-gray, and wearing scrubs exited, and her eyebrows rose. “Took your time,” she chided.
“Hey there, Miz Davis.” She’d been the school nurse when he’d attended middle school and had bandaged many of his scraped knuckles. “He awake?”
“I saw you come up the drive. He’s waiting.”
Carter set his duffel beside the door and entered. Stepping inside was like stepping into a museum. Every artifact carefully reflecting the era of Susan Vance. Her vanity still stood in front of the window with her mirrored tray filled with perfume bottles and a silver-backed hairbrush. Framed photographs, all featuring her smiling face, lined the dresser. While there were pictures of her with his father or his brother Daniel, not surprisingly, there wasn’t one featuring him. As he approached the bed, he hardened his jaw.
His father’s long frame dominated the king-sized four-poster. His eyes were closed, tubing stretched one ear to the other, stubs disappearing into his nose. God, he must hate that. Being seen like this. An invalid. Carter cleared his throat.
His father’s eyes slowly blinked open. “Didn’t think you’d come.”
The man spoke in a voice that wasn’t his. Too raspy, too frail. Carter didn’t want to feel pain, but he couldn’t help it. He lowered into the chair beside the bed. “Hi, Dad.”
His father’s gaze roamed his body, dipping down to his legs. “Heard you tussled with a roadside bomb.”
Carter let one side of his mouth slide upward in a wry grin. “Left a crater. Only tore up my knee. I think I won.”
His father’s grunt was familiar, if weak. “Can you still sit a horse?”
Carter narrowed his eyes. “Why? Will I be useless if I can’t?”
A frown deepened the wrinkles stretched across his forehead. “You liked riding. Would hate it if you lost that, too.”
The look he gave Carter said he understood what loss of mobility was like. Carter swallowed, not wanting to feel any sympathy for the old man, but his dad had always been a force of nature. He was thinner. Shockingly so. Now, he looked as though a breeze would blow him away. “You make it sound like I plan to stick around,” he said, his voice thicker than before.
Carter, Sr.’s blue gaze was as icy as ever. “Aren’t you?”
Before he answered, Carter glanced toward the window. “I’m considering job offers. Maybe one with an outfit in Dallas. I might still finish my last tour. If the docs will clear me.”
His dad’s gaze went to his knee again. “You end up in Dallas, you gonna be a weekend cowboy?”
Carter shook his head. “Won’t be weekends. But I would spend my downtime here. If I’m welcome.”
His father’s face turned away.
Carter thought he might have gone to sleep, and he shifted in his chair, preparing to rise.
“Man has a lot of time to think…when he’s stuck in a bed.”
Something Carter knew to be all too true. Sensing where the conversation might be heading, Carter tensed, his fingers digging into the faded flower upholstery covering the chair.
“I’m not sayin’ it wasn’t your fault,” his father said. “I’m sayin’…I forgive you.”
Carter squeezed his eyes shut. How long had he waited to hear those words? Spoken in a voice as raspy as fine sandpaper, his father’s statement didn’t give him the rush of relief he’d always dreamed about. Instead, anger flooded his veins. Remembering his dad was sick—he wasn’t about to upset him and have yet another death on his hands—Carter stood.
“Got someplace to be?” his father asked, turning his head slowly to lock his gaze with Carter’s.
“Anywhere but here,” Carter whispered, then turned on his heel a little too sharply and bit down hard to keep from groaning. With his dignity drawn tightly around him, he limped away. Stomping down the hallway, he nearly missed the sight of the slim body charging up the last steps.
Emmy glanced upward and gave him a smile. “Gampa wants a story.”
“You read?” he asked, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice. What was she? Four?
“Nah. But he likes my stories. ’Specially ones about me and the dragon.”
“You know a dragon?”
Her eyebrows lowered into a fiercely funny frown. “Don’t you know anything? Dragons aren’t real.” She jammed both hands on her hips.
He would have chuckled, but he sensed she’d be affronted, and he didn’t want her angry at him. A pang hit him square in the chest. He’d missed so much of her growing-up years. Done it purposely, but he hadn’t considered how he’d feel about the child. He’d also thought she was likely better off never knowing him. It wasn’t like he’d ever planned to leave the SEALs. Not until he was on the verge of being mustered out against his will.
But here he stood. Facing down a child who, despite her cherubic features, looked every inch a Vance with her stubborn stance and scowl. Daniel’s child. Not for the first time, he felt regret his brother would never have the chance to know her like this.
But he was here. Now. And perhaps, ready to take on the challenge.
Footsteps hurried up the stairs. He glanced beyond Emmy to Melanie as she climbed toward him. Another regret in a lovely package. He’d wronged her as well. “He’s awake. We spoke.”
“I take it that didn’t go well?” Her gaze was wary.
He shrugged. “Depends on your definition of well.”
A frown dug a line between her brows. “Whatever it is between the two of you, you need to get over yourself. You might not love him, but plenty of people inside this house do.”
A small hand tugged at the leg of his jeans. “You don’t love Gampa?”
Melanie arched a brow in warning.
He quickly smoothed his expression, knowing he had to be a little scary-looking to a child when he was angry. “Course I do, Emmy. But your Gampa and I haven’t seen each other in a while.”
She rocked back and forth on her boot heels. “I ain’t seen Petey Whitehead in a month. I might wanna punch him when I do.”
“Emmy…” Shaking her head, Melanie blew out a breath. “She spends too much time with Lee and the hands.”
Carter grunted. “She’s gonna inherit this place. It’s not a bad thing she’s got a bit of a bite.”
Melanie darted him a glance. “Dinner’s at six. Don’t be late. Tilda won’t like it.”
He narrowed his gaze. “Do not let her set my plate. She might spit in my food.”
Melanie shook her head and anger flashed in her green eyes. “Does every word have to be negative or sarcastic?”
“If ya can’t say somepin’ nice…” came a soft mutter from below.
Carter guessed he did deserve a lecture from a kid. “I’m sorry, Mel. I’ll do better.”
She stepped closer and tilted her head to meet his gaze. “This isn’t easy for anyone. We were doing fine. Emmy was happy. Things are about to change…again.”
Seeing the shimmer of tears in her eyes pitched his stomach to his toes. He didn’t know what to say, because every word that formed in his head would have been another unkind deflection. So, Carter did the only thing he could think of to escape her glossy, leaf-green eyes. He reached out one arm and pulled her against his chest.
For a moment, she stiffened, but then she gave him her weight, sagging against him. Her hands smoothed around his sides, and fingertips dug gently into his back as she returned the embrace.
And just as it had happened all those years ago, something settled into place inside Carter’s heart. He felt warmth. Yearning. He felt home.
Tagged: SEAL, Texas, Uncharted SEALs
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