Dear Readers and Friends,

Once in a while I write something that truly shocks me. My fingers fly, my mind lets go, and there it is—a crazy, sexy scene I know should never go in a book—but I have to share it anyway. Sweet Succubus took only a week to write, because Moses Brown was there in my head, goading me on. I had no clue where we were going, but when I finished, I took a deep breath and hit send to my, then, editor. Since she didn’t freak out, I sat back and waited. Wonder of wonders, readers loved Moses’s story! I hope you do, too!

As for yesterday’s eff-up—that’s all resolved. If you purchase your copy today, you’ll get the FULL version of the story. If you pre-ordered, here’s what Amazon says you have to do to fix it:

“When you’re ready, select ‘Sync & Check for Items’ from the Home screen menu. The updated version of your book will then replace the earlier version.” I hope that fixes it for you. If not, email me with a copy of your receipt, and I’ll send you the correct version! Again, I’m sorry for my stupid error.

And if you have time, please post a review. A couple of folks who read the short version felt jipped and said so in their reviews. I’m hoping they learn soon that the full version is available, but in the meantime…those reviews are living out there. ((sigh))

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 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…

Get your copy here!

If you are a Kindle Unlimited subscriber, you can pick up a copy for free!

Read an excerpt from Sweet Succubus below!

~~~~~~~

Read an excerpt from Sweet Succubus!

It started again, even before she sank deep into the dream. Part of her aware she stroked his skin. Part of her floating away, drifting toward the ceiling, gazing down curiously at the couple entwined on her bed.

As she watched, Moses’s features grew lax in sleep. His legs twitched. The length of his cock, still drying in the air, lay curled against his thick thigh.

Her attention snagged on his sex.

Freed by her dream, she swooped toward the bed then paused to hover over the couple, suspended. She glanced toward the woman—the other her. The body nestled against his side disappeared in a slow fade.

The creature she was now settled between his spread thighs and bent to breathe in his musky scent, her face moving up and down, taking slow, lazy breaths and continuing to drag in his primal smell. As the scent filled her, she changed, formed, grew corporeal.

Now she wore wings, long, whisper-thin blades that rose and fell behind her, allowing her to hover above as she examined him. In this state, she wasn’t Melanie. Wasn’t human. A surge of arousal hit, so strong it curled like a tightening band inside her womb, twisting, forcing her clitoris to harden and expand.

She reached a lengthening finger between her legs and tapped it, felt it expand some more, protruding like a tiny penis, so hard and erect it ached—no, throbbed—with her frantic heartbeats. She drew near him again, reached for his cock and wrapped her longer fingers around his slackened shaft.

His eyelids blinked then shot open. He gave a yelp, then lay stock still, barely breathing, his gaze sweeping her. “Melanie?” he whispered in her dream.

“Not Melanie,” she said, her voice a whispery rasp. At this moment, she wasn’t. She was a wild, hungry creature. “Neeeeeed,” she whined, her fist pulling on his cock, her palm heating. She sent a slither of heat through her hand, feeling it slide from her fingers into his cock. Now he’d never be able to resist.

His hips jerked then pumped, pushing his hardening shaft through her tight fist. “What the fuck? Let me go!”

“Neeeed!” she repeated, too excited, too tense with the sexual energy running through her body to be coherent. She flung back her head and let out a cry, an animalistic howl that filled the small space. Her wings fluttered, stirring until the curtains at the windows flapped, and her long black braids whipped furiously around her.

Her wings angled, and she let go of his penis, floating up then back down. Holding his wide-eyed gaze, she opened her thighs, repositioned her wings again, and swooped closer.

Moses scrambled onto his elbows and began to scoot away.

She slid a fingernail along his calf, gave a breathless little moan, and tossed her head, lashing his belly and thighs with her hair. She wrapped a hand around his calf and held it, showing him she was powerful, that he couldn’t fight and win.

“Shit!” He held still, his cock tapping his trembling belly.

“Need,” she said, more softly this time, entreating him with her eyes. This one, she didn’t want to force, didn’t want him afraid.

The tendons in his neck flexed, his square jaw hardened, but he leaned back on his elbows, his gaze direct. “Take. Whatever the fuck you need,” he bit out. “We’re gonna talk. After.”

Joy swept through her, surpassing the blinding hunger for a moment. She rose toward the ceiling and curled over and over in the air, her body writhing sinuously, her hips undulating in their natural rhythm, enticing him, building her own sweet tension.

She fluttered back, legs spreading wide as she lowered to his calves. Furling her wings with a snap, she cocked her head, gave a slow smile, and bent over his cock—his large, lovely, veined, and turgid cock.

“Pretty,” she sighed then stuck out her pointed tongue to trace the length of him. Musky feminine cream, his own salty come—all the flavors she adored, craved, exploded on her tongue. She went down, consuming his length and swirling her head to pull her lips around and around his thick shaft.

“Sweet-fucking-hell,” he gasped.

Then fingers sank into her hair, and she rolled her head to enjoy the scrape of his nails as he tried to capture her, tried to pull her deeper.

Her jaws widened, cracking at the corners, and she sank, hunching over him to drive downward, taking every inch of his sex into her throat. On the way up, she sucked, pulling hard, pulsing up his length. The calves trapped beneath her shook; his hips bucked, but she wouldn’t let him come. Wouldn’t send the flickering jolt that shot a man-beast into orgasm.

She owned it. She’d milk it for every bit of pleasure, every bit of his essence that she could consume. His groans fed her soul; his deep, racking shudders made her stronger. In the end, his essence would seed her body with energy that she’d wrap around herself for warmth and comfort. Pleasure was the reward for both their efforts.

But pleasure could be all-consuming.

Coming off him, she shook her head to clear it. Trying not to get drunk on his delicious flavors, his spicy heat. She didn’t want to leave this one weak…or dead.

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!

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!

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!

~~~~~~~

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…”

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!

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!

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.