For those folks who received this book yesterday, I hope you enjoy it! I’ll admit I loved writing it. Merry and Daniel were made for each other. Both were lonely and daring, although Merry hadn’t quite reconciled with that part of her nature until she was challenged. Guess it took the right man…

For those of you who haven’t seen the story yet, you’re welcome to drool over the cover. Not sure what he’s looking at—her boobs, I think. But that’s okay, too, right? 🙂 Enjoy the excerpt!

Newly widowed Merry Winslow treks west to claim an unexpected inheritance. Upon arriving, she discovers she inherited a brothel! Rather than being dismayed, Merry’s intrigued, thinking it the perfect way to shed the shackles of propriety that have subdued her wild and impulsive nature. Only problem is, she needs to learn to manage her new business.

Nathan Boone is amused by Merry’s determination and knows the perfect way to begin her instruction. When he opens the peephole for Merry to peer inside as one of the brothel’s “soiled doves” pleasures a customer, he reveals the passion hidden beneath Merry’s “widow’s weeds”.

Get your copy here!

Excerpt from Making a Madam…

A callous-roughened finger lifted her chin. “Do you want me to stop, Merry? I don’t consider this part of our bargain.”

She opened her mouth to tell him it was all happening too fast, that she needed time to think, but her gaze locked with his.

Candlelight didn’t reach the shadowy hollows of his deep-set eyes, lending him a sinister appearance. Her heart skittered for a moment then her glance lowered to his mouth.

She’d barely had a taste of him, yet his lips were still blurred from their kiss, his bottom lip slightly swollen and oh-so tempting to explore.

The undisciplined part of her, the one she’d finally unleashed only this morning, made her rise on her toes and press her mouth to his to savor the taste and texture of him. Whiskey mixed with salt, firm but soft lips…

His mouth opened immediately, and his tongue thrust between her lips, sliding over her tongue, reaching deep to stroke and glide, filling Merry’s head with visions of Nathan gliding over the tops of her breasts and suckling her nipples, just as Johnny had done to Daisy.

Nathan’s hands slid up and down her back, his grip strengthening as he reached lower and cupped her bottom again, pressing her closer to the thick ridge crowding inside his pants.

Remembering the sight of Johnny’s cock and the way Daisy had pleased him, Merry’s doubts burned away, and she felt suddenly eager to see what she’d taken so deep inside her own body.

She tore her mouth from his. “I’d like to see you,” she said, in a thick voice she barely recognized as her own.

“Shall I undress for you?” he asked, gliding moist lips along her cheek.

“Please. Quickly.”

His hands dropped away from her, and he stepped back.

Golden light from the oil lamp on her desk, and the one candle beside her bed, flickered over him as he stripped. His jacket landed beside his feet. His suspenders slid from his broad shoulders. When his crisp white shirt lay crumpled beside him, she lifted her gaze to follow the curve of the tops of his powerful shoulders and the thick, ropey muscles of his chest and abdomen. A light dusting of dark hair stretched between his flat nipples and arrowed down toward his trousers.

She realized with a start he hadn’t worn anything beneath his shirt, no long-handled underwear, and she wondered if he’d bothered with any undergarments below.

Feeling breathless as his hands hovered over the button at the top of his pants, she flattened a hand against her chest, which only made her more aware of the shallow breaths lifting her chest and the heavy thud of her heartbeat. “Why did you stop?” she blurted out.

“Sorry,” he said, flicking open the button. “I was too busy watching you, and wondering if I needed to get you out of that corset.”

“I am a little winded, but please,” she said, waiving toward his lower body, “continue.”

Disappointingly, he started this time with his boots, toeing them off one at a time then drawing off his woolen socks. As his hands returned to the waist of his trousers, her breath caught and held.

He tugged down his trousers, wincing when they snagged. He reached inside and cupped his erection then worked his clothing the rest of the way down his hips. When he straightened, she understood the deep sigh he let out.

His cock strained upward, thick and straight against his belly. Much larger than Johnny’s—and even more impressive than the glass cock Daisy had stroked inside herself.

Merry stared for a long moment, noting the ruddy color of his shaft, the purplish shade of the rounded head. It pulsed once, up and down, a little telltale jerk that she knew he couldn’t control since he stood so stiffly, waiting for her comment.

“Please stay just like that,” she whispered, reaching for the buttons behind her neck, opening her dress slowly and awkwardly until the front fell forward, exposing the top of her corset and the gentle swell of her bosom. A few more tiny buttons, and she slid down the skirt to pool around her feet. Her petticoats followed, and then she bent to unbutton her boots and slid them off, only realizing as she straightened, that she’d given him a view of her breasts plumping above the restrictive corset.

She flushed, wishing she wasn’t so absurdly shy. He stood with his cock bared, and she still had clothing covering most of her womanly parts.

“Let me unlace you,” he said, his voice sounding tight and husky.

She walked toward him and slowly turned her back. His nimble fingers plucked the laces until the hard boning relaxed, and the corset fell away. At last, she could draw a deep breath. Then wearing only her chemise and drawers, she faced him.

His glance swept her body then met hers. Tension tightened his large, muscled frame. His hands settled on his hips as he waited.

She supposed it was only fair. Merry pushed down the shoulders of her chemise, one at a time, lifting her arms out, but keeping her breasts covered with the fabric. She wished she’d thought to douse the lights before she bared the rest for his gleaming gaze. “Maybe you could turn around…”

A tic pulsed along the side of his jaw, but his features softened, and he stepped out of his trousers and turned.

This view of his body did nothing to ease her embarrassment. His shoulders only seemed wider, narrowing to a trim waist. His buttocks were rounded, firm, and she had the strangest urge to cup them.

“Are you going to change your mind, Merry?” he said, still facing away.

“I’ll admit I’m a little disconcerted, undressing for you like this. I’m afraid I’ll disappoint you.”

“Because your breasts aren’t as large as Daisy’s?”

“Neither are my hips.”

“I’ll like everything I see, I promise. I’m partial to slender women.”

“Have you done this with many women?”

“Enough I’ve learned how to please a woman. Will you let me show you what I’ve learned?”

It’s the time of year that you hear classic and new renditions of Christmas music from bells jingling, chestnuts roasting, to dreaming of snow on Christmas Day. Sounds good, right? But from a young age, one particular song always makes me cry. The lyrics aren’t sad per se but the music tugs at my heart.

I avoid this song like a diet in December. When I hear it on the radio, I change the station. I recently heard the familiar chords while grocery shopping. I froze for a moment, a tad unsure whether or not it was the song, but it was. What to do? I couldn’t run unless I wanted to leave my full cart in the middle of the store (that would’ve really endeared me to store clerks). So, I called my sister who can always be counted on to talk about herself and her day. She saved me, and she had no idea.

Lest you think I jest (cute, huh?) about the effect of this song, I have literally experienced laughter and the next moment dissolved into tears all because of this damn song. Can you imagine becoming the center of attention (and not in a good way) when you interrupt A Charlie Brown Christmas with sniffles, ugly crying, and nose blowing? Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am affected by “Christmas Time Is Here” but not just any rendition. It has to be the Vince Guaraldi Trio version.

I used this unusual, albeit slightly dysfunctional, tidbit of my own life as the kernel for my upcoming novella Home, Hearth & Heaven.

Whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, or Kwanzaa, being with family is stressed this time of year. I believe the goal during the holiday season is to keep a smile on your face and gratefulness in your heart. But what if you aren’t blessed to have family to spend time with? (And no, disowning your Uncle Willie because he spiked the tea or made “special” brownies doesn’t count).

If your family isn’t around to provide comedic relief, then you have to be a tad creative to get those gorgeous lips of yours to curve upwards. Here’s my suggestion (if this doesn’t work, you can totally blame me)—crank up your favorite Caribbean or Latin music and shake, shimmy and twirl your way into the next day. If dancing isn’t your thing, enjoy a few belly-aching rounds of laughter with your favorite comedian.

I wish you all a Blessed and Safe Holiday Season!  But before you return to shopping, boxing, wrapping, or even cranking up the Vince Guaraldi Trio, please share your favorite Christmas song. I promise I won’t cry.

 Home, Hearth & Heaven

Alexa Jordan is no fan of the holiday season—Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa—doesn’t matter. She has no use for the celebrations because they stress family and that’s the one thing she doesn’t have. When her brilliant plan to travel on Christmas Day backfires due to a snowstorm in Atlanta, Alexa is in no mood for any more mess. The absolute last person she wants to see is the one man who makes her feel out of control.

When Lucas Massino spies his pretty coworker acting like the last kid selected for a team, he jumps at the opportunity fate provides and offers her a place to stay. He’s had a man-size crush on Alexa since they first met, but no matter how he turns on the charm she keeps him at arms’ length.

Alexa is no fool and spending time with someone she knows is preferable to being in a hotel with strangers. But alone, the two cannot fight their mutual attraction. Alexa chalks their behavior up to one of convenience, but Lucas knows better. He just has to make Alexa realize she’s his heaven and he’s her home.

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I never thought I’d be a writer. As a child, I had an active imagination and did make up stories. I had friends for whom writing was a cherished pastime, but it wasn’t something I was interested in.

I was a reader, and books were one of my favorite gifts. I was also crazy about horses. Since I was born and raised in the middle of town to parents who had no use for equines, getting a horse of my own was a fantasy.

I hounded them year after year, for birthdays and Christmas and cleaned stalls at a nearby stable to pay for riding.  Every time they’d ask what I wanted, I’d answer, “A horse.” They were all-mighty sick of hearing about my dream, but being my parents, they loved me anyway. They bought Breyer toy horses, cowgirl outfits and all the western books they could find in an effort to appease me.

When I was fifteen, I wore them down. My dad came home with an appaloosa—quarter horse cross that I named Gypsy. He was a two year old, unbroken colt. The fact that I didn’t have a clue how to train him didn’t make any difference.

I had a horse and life was great.

Over the next thirty years, I learned from two of the best barrel horse trainers in the country, Larry and Kay Davis. I was fortunate enough to have some great horses that made me look good. I married a cowboy. Didn’t get much better than that for this girl.

Through everything, I was a reader. A romance reader, and I devour books like chocolate chip cookies. Well, I did until I started writing them. One day about seven years ago, I read a Western Romance where the main character was a barrel racer. As the heroine was preparing to go to the National Finals Rodeo, she fell in love with the hero, a man who knew nothing about rodeo.

The author also knew nothing about rodeo and hadn’t bothered to do her research. The romance part of her book was well written, and I’m sure to someone who hadn’t rodeoed it was fine, but to me, it wasn’t authentic. What I couldn’t get past was the way she portrayed the horse training, barrel racing and rodeo scenes. They couldn’t have been more unrealistic if she’d tried, and really, all she needed to do was ask. Most barrel racers love to talk about their sport and their horses.

Well, really, how hard can it be to write a book? I decided to write one the way it should be done. That first book was read by my mother and only my mother—she loved it by the way. With that book, I discovered how hard it is to write well.

There’s an old cowboy saying. “Training a horse is like looking at a solid wooden fence. Good trainers find a knothole, look through and discover all they’ve got left to learn. Most people don’t even find the knothole.”

The saying applies to writing, too. Many years later, after countless classes, with seven books written and four published, I think maybe I’ve found the knothole. Now to learn more about what’s on the other side of that writing fence.

In most of my books, either rodeo cowboys or ranchers play a featured role. They’re filled with small towns and quirky characters. Radio Rose is still my favorite. The hero, Adam Cameron, is a Bareback Bronc rider and the heroine, Rose Wajnowski, is an all-night DJ at a small radio station. They work together to save their town and themselves.

Have you ever been to a rodeo or watched one on TV? For a chance to win your choice of any of my books, tell me your favorite rodeo event.

Radio Rose knows Martians aren’t real.

As a DJ for a late night talk show about aliens, she’d never admit to being a non-believer. Talking to crazies all night isn’t the perfect job for most people, but she’s happy with her solitary life. Until a middle of the night car crash and a blow to the head has her mistaking a stranger for a real life extra-terrestrial.

Adam Cameron, raised by his narcissistic grandfather for most of his childhood, made his escape from Tullyville, Colorado the day he turned eighteen. Forced to return ten years later for the reading of his grandfather’s will, he’s about to be pulled into a contest for a vast fortune and the future of a town he’d just as soon forget.

The small town of Tullyville is right next to Trinidad, Colorado, known as the sex change capital of the world, something neither Rose or Adam realized, but use to help their cause.

Relationships aren’t one of Rose’s strong points. Hell, she mistook the hot stranger for an alien the first time they met, but Adam needs help and she’s the woman to help him–maybe. In a town filled with new- found friends, Rose has to decide how far she’s willing to go to trust the loner.

I’m working on the sequel, but for now, Radio Rose is on sale for only 99 cents right now.

Amazon https://amzn.to/2h54VwP
Barnes & Noble https://bit.ly/2gFQsGD
Kobo https://bit.ly/2hyw3bi
IBooks https://apple.co/2h592cu

I have a secret. I have a BIG secret I’ve been keeping forever! And I finally get to spill it!

OMG I’m so excited! *bouncy* Okay, drum roll please……………………….

I have a new series.

A new kink series.

A series I’ve had plans to write for YEARS!

And I finally found time to write it, and I found the perfect publisher to send it out into the world to be devoured!

The publisher is Totally Bound Publishing, and they’re publishing the Hot Wife Series by me! The first book is Our Rules and the cover made me swoon. It’s dark and decadent and flirty, and I love it sooo much!

The series is all about the Hot Wife subset of kink. A wife gets to do all sorts of dirty and yummy things with other guys with the complete support of her husband. The RULES are different for each couple, and the needs and reasons behind why they need this are unique to each of them. Some come from having nothing. Some come from losing everything.

Our Rules is about Tabitha and her husband Michael and them finding their way back to each other and rediscovering what it means to be his hot wife.

I won’t lie. This is one of the most gut-wrenching books I’ve ever written. I don’t know if I’ve ever been more proud of a story or two characters. It comes out in March!

There are currently 3 more books planned in the series, and you meet almost everybody in the first book.

In honor of the above awesomeness, I’m going to have a HUGE giveaway! Two full book sets and lots and lots of other swag and kinky goodies!

**GIVEAWAY – US ONLY**

Look at all the awesomeness you could win!! So tell me some of your favorite kink series that you absolutely love? I haven’t had a chance to read in forever and am looking for something to jump back in on! I’ll pick a winner on Monday the 19^th!! Good Luck!!

Decadently Yours,
Jennifer Kacey

About the Author

Jennifer Kacey is a writer, mother, and business owner living with her miniman in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.

Website – Newsletter – The Decadent Divas– Amazon Page
Facebook – Facebook Author Page – Twitter – Goodreads – Pinterest

By November 2016, I decided the words National Novel Writing Month were a jinx. First the end of June, right before Camp NaNo began, my main laptop went poof. Since it had done the same thing once before and my nephew solved the problem by restoring it to an earlier date, I thought I’d go with a pro. I called the man that had replaced the keyboard earlier in the year.

I pulled out my smaller one and began working on it.

All prepped ready to write, I began on Saturday July 2, 2016 to write my Camp NaNo novel using my smaller laptop. The central air conditioning unit froze and the house was not cooling down. I thought maybe I should replace the filter. I closed the lid to the laptop, raced out the door planning to go to Wal-Mart and buy one. I spoke to my neighbor, and he gave me one of his. Thank you, I didn’t have to buy one. I struggled and wrestled until I got the filter in place.

With a sigh of relief, I sat back down ready to write. When I opened the laptop, it says in big bold letters, UPDATING BIOS PLEASE WAIT. I waited, and I waited—nothing changed. I sent a text message to the nephew—SOS HELP—and told him what it was doing. I packed it into the carrying case and ran over to his place. He tried to get it working, but nothing worked. I talked to the Best Buy Geek people, and they printed pages to help. Took the pages to the nephew, it still didn’t work.

I picked up the first laptop after July 4^th and figured I would put the little one in the shop this coming February when I have extra money. I was so happy to have the computer back. Trying to match the writing back into the started pages was a nightmare, but I managed.

Everything worked fine. I put aside the writing for October for another writing challenge. I started a new story, which I had worked out ahead of time. Near the end of October, I began to think about the book I wanted to write for NaNo this year. I needed to do some research along with creating character information. Then four days before NaNo begins, the computer restarts itself saying it encountered an error. Okay, fine. I went back to work. It did it again. And then several more times. I worked with it until Saturday. I put some words on the page, packed it into its case and headed to see the nephew again. He managed to convince it to work. The laptop lasted until Tuesday night when up pops the same message. Okay, whatever is what I was feeling at this point. But when it restarted it had a different message with two options. First option-restart, second option-advanced options. I clicked restart over and over. It came back to the same page. Sigh. Took it to the nephew again.

Dug out the Kindle, but couldn’t remember how to get the Office program on it to work. I went with my Galaxy tablet and downloaded Microsoft Office 365 to it, which apparently, Kindle doesn’t play with.  I tried to pair the Bluetooth keyboard I had for the Kindle with it. They refused to speak to each other. I resorted to using the onscreen keyboard then, fine. Slow, but I was still writing. I decided there had to be a better method. I looked online and discovered there are other Bluetooth keyboards out there. I asked the nephew, who works at Wal-Mart, whether they carried any in the store. He replied, “Yeah, a funky one.” I checked online some more and still didn’t see anything I could afford at that point. I went to the store and looked at the keyboard. It wasn’t bad, I liked it. I bought it and ordered a Bluetooth mouse online.

So, for NaNo 2016, I still managed to write 50,153 words using all the above tricks. On December 1st, I bought a new computer. If you want to see my set up for November go to my Facebook page.

Here’s the link for the personal page: https://www.facebook.com/KHAKIakaKathy.crouch

And the author page:

https://www.facebook.com/C-K-Crouch-202720726500456/?fref=ts

My website is more of a sort of blog. I like hosting book reviews on the blog. https://ckcrouch.com/

C.K. Crouch

People react to a crisis in differing ways. Some freeze up. Others take action immediately. Still others wade out of the deep water and stand on the shore to glimpse the big picture—assuming they’re not bleeding to death.

In my most recent story, Caryn runs away to a remote safe place to lick her wounds. And figure out what to do next. Have you ever done that?

It’s a natural response. There’s no shame in tucking yourself into a secure or neutral zone, physically or mentally. There’s nothing stupid about hiding out until you make a plan to get what you need.

Revenge? Time to heal? Time to let go of what your past has been and start a new page?

The problem for many of us is the fear of the unknown. If we let go of what we know, this thing that hurts us and makes us hide, what if the unknown thing is worse? What if it hurts too much to let go? After all, our hopes and dreams have been invested in what we’ve known.

The problem is that if we don’t let go, we’ll never know what might have been. That’s the point Caryn reaches in the story—does she dare take the leap? Read Christmas Hideaway to find out.

Giveaway: Here’s a coupon code for Christmas Hideaway that’s good until Dec 18^th—four days from now—MR35W. Take this code to Smashwords and nab your copy of this holiday novelette. And may all your days be merry and bright!