UPDATE: The winner of the free Lone Star Lovers book is… Pat Freely!

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I love writing sexy cowboys, and writing the Lone Star Lovers series was a blast. Who wouldn’t love sinking deep into cowboys who learn that loving sometimes means sharing? 🙂

Not that I ever met a cowboy who was anything but super possessive of what was his. But that’s what erotic fantasy is all about. We take that slide into a deep pool of What If and suspend reality for a little carnal pleasure. And if you’ve never tried my Lone Star cowboys, take a peek inside the very first book…

Comment for a chance to win your choice of one of my Lone Star Lovers books! 

“Unbridled is a stand out!” ~ Joyfully Reviewed

“…In [UNBRIDLED]…we are following the sexy machinations of Justin, and he does sexy so well it isn’t difficult to picture him doling out love to his two subs… If you are seeking an intensely erotic short read, UNBRIDLED is the one for you…” ~ 5 Angels, Fallen Angels Reviews

Tough…or tender? If she plays her cards right, she won’t have to choose.

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

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

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

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

Warning: Hold on for the rodeo of your life with rough ridin’ male on male action; blazing hot m/m/f scenes; and melt-your-panties lovin’ as each of these sexy cowboys gives it the way they know best to turn their woman inside out.

There are moments that can change the course of a woman’s life from one heartbeat to the next. For Dani Standifer, this was that moment.

She’d returned to Two Mule, Texas a day earlier than she’d planned, intending to surprise her boyfriend. But the surprise was definitely on her. Rowan Ayers’s body, hardening with arousal, demonstrated more poignantly than any “Dear Jane” letter that she’d been gone far too long. He’d moved on.

Everything she’d ever dreamed of for her future evaporated like the sweat glistening on his naked chest.

As well, it hurt that he’d chosen this place to bring another woman. The isolated, ramshackle line shack had been their favorite place, their secret love nest. The cabin sat nestled in a thicket of scrubby cedar, a tall live oak providing the structure shade from the late afternoon sun. The shack was situated inside the Ayers fence line, equidistant from both of their ranch houses. Perfect for the trysts they’d shared throughout high school and during summer breaks from university. Here, they’d explored their young bodies, talked about their dreams for the future…and made plans.

Just moments ago when she realized he was here, emotions had welled up, threatening to overspill—gratitude for his friendship, uncertainty because he’d been so aloof of late, and certainly lust since this place had been their special sanctuary from the world.

She squared her shoulders, preparing to climb up the steps, but then she heard the soft nicker of another horse.

Peering around the corner, she spied a tall, gelded bay, and a leaden weight settled in her middle. But she didn’t want to jump to conclusions. There could be a simpler, more innocent explanation for why two horses were hitched to the rails outside the cabin.

She had to know the truth.

Dani crept silently onto the wooden porch and edged toward the window to take a glimpse inside. Two cowboy hats lay on the table. The twin mattress from the bed in the corner had been pulled to the center of the floor—just as it always had whenever they’d met for a little afternoon delight.

Rowe stood naked, a hand roaming his taut, flat belly, another gliding up and down his straining cock. But he was alone.

No fire burned in the hearth, but the cabin had to be hot from the amount of sweat gleaming on his long, lean frame. She stood frozen, noting that his light brown hair was longer than it had been at Christmas, and he hadn’t shaved. A couple days’ worth of bristles dusted his rugged, square jaw. He’d always been scrupulous about his appearance, but she liked the slightly scruffy look and wondered grumpily if his new girlfriend did too.

Which reminded her she needed to get moving or she’d really embarrass herself. And him. Although why she worried about his feelings when he hadn’t had the cajones to tell her the truth, she couldn’t say.  With only one room in the cabin, she knew whomever he was meeting had to be outside.

Still, she stayed there for a another long moment, staring, lust and anger curling inside her as she watched his ice blue eyes slide shut while he touched himself.

He was readying himself for another lover. Stoking his arousal. Something she’d often watched him do, sometimes sneaking up on him, like now, to spy on him and let her own desire climb. Sometimes, she’d lain on the mattress in front of him, pleasuring herself, both of them staring as their hands and fingers played while their mouths curved into slow, sultry smiles.

Heartsick, she edged backward, trying to decide if she should storm inside to confront him or slink away. One option might leave her feeling foolish; the other would save her a bit of pride while she regrouped her emotions. But did she even have a right to feel hurt? He hadn’t betrayed her. Not really. She’d been the one reluctant to make any lasting promises, sure she could pick right up where they’d left off when she returned.

Maybe she’d waited too long. The extra year and a half she’d lingered in Austin while she worked on her graduate degree had been something she’d wanted. He hadn’t complained. Not once. The last time they’d been together, he’d still been full of plans for their future. As soon as she said yes, they’d announce their engagement and give her brother the chance to provide the wedding her mother and father would have wanted. They’d do things right.

Liar, liar, liar!

Suppressing the sob threatening to shudder through her, she backed up another step and came up against something solid.

Strong arms wrapped around her, and she froze. The scent of horse and clean male sweat engulfed her.

“Easy there,” came a low, familiar drawl.

Shock rendered her mute and rigid.

“Not what you expected?” he whispered into her ear. Read the rest of this entry »

Thanks for having me as a guest, Delilah.

I’d like to introduce my upcoming release, currently on pre-order, Book 5 in the Beachcomber Investigations romantic detective series, BEACHCOMBER TROUBLE.

The series follows volatile partners Dane Blaise and Shana George as they take on cases that always seem to turn into missions. They also take on each other, battling their irrepressible attraction as they try to maintain their puzzling relationship.

Neither Dane nor Shana are sure why they stay together, but they can’t seem to get along, they can’t seem to squelch their desire and they can’t ever seem to tear them selves away from their commitment to have each other’s back.

Beachcomber Trouble

Out of the blue, ex-special ops legend Dane Blaise receives a CIA coded message for Trouble. It’s a call to help an old associate of his—Oscar. Dane had no idea his partner, ex-Scotland Yard detective, Shana George knew Oscar too. Even though Dane suspects Oscar’s CIA handler, Floyd Parker, is not to be trusted, Dane answers the call.

Dane didn’t know that Shana answered the call too–and that the trap was set and the trouble was about to go from bad to the worst possible trouble of all.

Get your copy here!

About USA Today Bestselling Author Stephanie Queen

A romantic at heart and a writer by nature, Stephanie Queen has the enthusiastic soul of a cheerleader. So of course she loves creating stories where the good guys always win. Although she’s lost count of all the jobs she had before she settled on being a Novelist, her favorite was selling cookies as a Keebler Elf. She is a graduate of UConn (go Huskies!) and Harvard U and lives in New Hampshire with her family, her cat, Kitty, and her (real or imagined?) chauffeur, Myren.

Links:
StephanieQueen.com
Sign up for the SQ Newsletter
Stephanie Queen on Facebook
@StephanieQueen on Twitter
Stephanie Queen on Pinterest

“Make hay while the sun shines” is a saying I often remember when I’m trying to decide what to do next. I’m happy to say it always gives me an opportunity to restart my thinking. Am I doing the task most suited to this moment? This day? This season?

I tend to take the long view. I love history. But what I love most is connecting history to the present, and that’s what old sayings like this do for me. I suspect this one goes back to the earliest days of agriculture when it didn’t matter what else was going on—if the day was sunny, your decision was made for you to get out there and take advantage of the sun. Surviving the winter depended on it.

Nature is a great decider. When the sun is shining, I have a hard time sitting inside slinging words to the page. But when thunder rolls and rain sluices against the window, there’s nothing more delicious than tucking into the world of imagination.

The extremes of nature not only prepare my mood for writing, reading, and other indoor activities but also can provide writing prompts. This month’s short story on my blog started exactly that way, as you’ll see in the following excerpt. From one moment to the next, unraveling a story to see what words appear next on the page is an exercise of creativity and discipline, but also opening to nature’s subtle hints. Or not so subtle, like crashing lightning and howling wind.

I call this making hay while the sun shines. I take what is given and let it run out in front until I see where it’s going. I think it’s good advice no matter what tasks and priorities you may face.

Excerpt from Tale of Two Lovers

Thunder cracked and rolled, shuddering the ground under Inka’s feet. She felt it through the stiff hide of her boots, through the thick fur lining. Peering into the downpour, she tugged her cloak tighter around her shoulders and tried to dismiss a lurking sense of apprehension. Trees bent and tossed in the cold wind, sending rain spray against her face as she stared into the gray deluge.

She saw no one. But she couldn’t make herself close the door.

Someone was out there.

Moments later, the dark figure of a man loomed, walking and leading a horse. As they neared, she could see another man slumped on the horse’s back. Inka briefly considered whether she should seize the heavy dagger she kept by her bed.

She should have felt them coming. How had her vision failed?

They approached her entry and stopped, giving her time to read their energy. It radiated in pale blue waves.

“We need your help,” the walking man said. “Will you provide succor?”

Inka locked eyes with the man, searching within him for evil intent. Sending blue energy could have been a shield. His weathered face streamed with water. Peering from under his soggy hood, his pale eyes reflected the gleam of her fire pit and spoke of his desperation. And his honesty.

“Come in, then,” she said, opening her door wider and stepping back.

He turned to his companion, pulling him off the horse and holding him up with his shoulder as they staggered into the cabin. Inka seized the horse’s reins and led it through the opening as well, walking it past the fire to a bed of straw where her own horse had once bedded. The horse shook itself, rattling the ornate breastplate. She slipped off the bridle and left the weary beast to the hay cradle.

With the door firmly fastened against the howling wind, she turned to study these strangers. The injured man had collapsed at the fireside as his companion peeled off his wet hat. With their hooded cloaks removed, she could see that both men wore a small dotted line along the right jaw, the mark of the distant Eirikr tribe.

“You’re far from your home,” she said, squatting to add more wood to the fire. Coals shifted and sent sparks into the air. Water droplets fell through the smoke hole at the top of her roof and vaporized in the flames with tiny hisses.

“Three days,” the man said. “I’m Darnoc. This is Conrad.”

The injured man lifted his head enough to make eye contact with Inka. His pale blue eyes created a shocking appearance in a face so dark with grime and blood. But it wasn’t the appearance alone that caused her breath to catch in her throat. His gaze conveyed a message so unexpected that her hand dropped to her waist belt to clutch her pouch of talismans.

“He’s a seiðmaðr,” she said in a hushed voice…

*~*~*

Read the rest of this story at:
https://lizzieashworth.com/2016/03/03/a-tale-of-two-lovers/ ‎

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It’s here! Navy SEAL Survival is here! I hope you all run out and get your copy now. This is what you’ll find in the book:

• Hot Navy SEAL
• Strong heroine/former secret agent/bait for a human trafficking ring
• Lush Cancun setting
• Romance
• Suspense
• Escape!
• Great start to a new series

Navy SEAL Survival

SEAL OF MY OWN Series Book #1
by Elle James
Available now!

Amazon | Amazon UK | Kobo | Nook | iBooks | GooglePlay

Sign up for my newsletter for your chance to win these two great prizes! I’m drawing for winners March 3rd. Hurry!

Elle James’s Newsletter

After feeling the heat in Honduras cleaning up a terrorist training camp, Duff Callaway is ready for some serious chilling in Cancun. Fun in the sun becomes a perilous rescue mission when the Navy SEAL saves his beautiful diving partner from an underwater attack. Except Natalie Layne wasn’t chosen at random.

Setting herself up as bait is the only way Natalie can find her abducted sister. But all her survival training can’t prepare the former SOS agent for the irresistible stranger she has to trust with her life. Giving up isn’t an option. Neither is giving into the powerful desire smoldering between them…

 About the Author

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author ELLE JAMES also writing as MYLA JACKSON is an award-winning author of stories including cowboys, intrigues and paranormal adventures that keep her readers on the edges of their seats. With over eighty stories in a variety of sub-genres and lengths she has published with Harlequin, Samhain, Ellora’s Cave, Kensington and Avon. When she’s not at her computer, she’s traveling, snow-skiing, boating, or riding her ATV, dreaming up new stories.

Elle’s Links: Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads | Newsletter | Amazon Author Page

Today, I woke to a thundershower. Which, usually, I don’t mind. Today, however, it’s dragging me down. The sky’s dark. The clouds are heavy. The air feels heavy! I almost didn’t blog. Can you imagine that? And I don’t want to write. Egads!

What I’d really like to do is head into the living room, settle into a deep, soft chair, and watch a sad movie. Then I want to follow it with another viewing of The Martian. Now, there’s a movie that inspires.

Have you seen it? Yes, it’s a space adventure, a fantasy, but the feel of it is the same as the real-life space drama, Apollo 13, and Matt Damon makes it feel just as believable and urgent. You’re rooting all the way! So, maybe, that’s what I’ll do today.

What’s your current pick-me-up movie? 

I blinked and February was gone. And just like January, I blew my goals. This time I know why. I let life get in the way. So, to try to help my flagging concentration, I instituted a fresh organizational tool—a bullet journal. I’ll let you know how that works for me after I’ve maintained it for a month.

What did I accomplish in February?

1. I wrote five chapters of the next Firehouse 69 book, and finished it! Then went through two rounds of edits.
2. I completed 1/2 of the revisions needed for an older title I’m republishing.
3. I wrote three chapters of a new cowboy story.
4. I wrote one brand new short story and published it.
5. I expanded an already written short story and published it!

Just so you didn’t miss those newly published titles, here’s a reminder…

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January Releases

  
[Click on the covers to go to Amazon!]

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What’s coming in February?

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Contest

Answer this for a chance to win a small Amazon gift card…
(Then be sure to leave a comment so I know you entered!)

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I’ll be sending out a new newsletter later today and announcing this month’s winner of a handmade gift from me. If you aren’t already a subscriber to my newsletter, go here:

Sign up for Delilah’s Newsletter!

For me, the most traumatic scene in Star Wars (the original trilogy) was when Darth Vader took off his helmet and he wasn’t the hot, hunky sex god his voice promised he’d be. I loved Darth Vader’s (James Earl Jones’) voice. I fell in love with it. I dreamed about it. It was deep and low and oh so very dominant.

Forget Luke and his issues. I wanted Darth to be MY daddy. (naughty grin)

In Crash And Burn, the most recent standalone story in my cyborg romance series, Safyre, the human heroine, falls in love with Crash’s, the cyborg hero’s, voice (though she’d never admit to that). They talk for months before they meet face-to-face. She doesn’t know what he looks like but she knows how he thinks and how he sounds.

And, woo wee, does he sound sexy!

When I first met my dear wonderful (now) hubby, we lived in different cities. We met in person and then mostly talked on the phone for the next four months. I fell in love with him at first night but man, oh, man, hours of listening to his sexy voice sealed the deal.

For some women, it’s an accent that does it for them. Scottish accents. (bites fist) Slow Southern twangs. That Irish accent I always associate with bad boys.

For some women, it’s how deep the man’s voice is, that low rumble that rolls along our spines and settles inside us, hot chocolate for the eardrums.

According to Smithsonian Magazine ( https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/why-women-like-deep-voices-and-men-prefer-high-ones-41492244/ ), we subconsciously use voice to determine how large a possible mate is. Women are more attracted to deep voices because deep voices signal that men are physically large. We also like ‘breathiness’, which indicates lower aggression and anger toward us.

My brothers-in-law tell me they always know when my hubby is talking to me, simply by listening to his voice. The caring wrapped around his words is obvious.

Have you ever fallen in love or lust with a person’s voice? What accents do you find sexy? What actors do you think have the sexiest voices?

***

Crash And Burn

Crash was manufactured to be one of the best warriors in the universe. The cyborg has spent many human lifespans fighting the enemy. But, unlike his battle-loving brethren, he doesn’t enjoy killing. When he escapes the Humanoid Alliance, he vows to never end another life.

Then he meets Safyre, an infuriating human female, and he considers breaking his vow.

Safyre will do anything to save her friend, the being she loves like a sister. She’ll ravish a huge hunky cyborg, kiss his best friend, and invoke scorching hot desires the male never realized he could feel. Dark soulful eyes, a quick wit, and a tempestuous passion won’t divert her from her mission.

Love, and a planet-destroying weapon, however, might stop her permanently.

Buy Now: On Amazon US | On Amazon UK | On ARe | On B&N | On Kobo

Excerpt

She paused outside the medical bay and swiped a cleaning cloth under her dripping nose. The fabric sucked up the blood, rearranging the molecules into air, removing all evidence that the device was affecting her.

Tifara would have a solar storm-sized meltdown if she realized the operation had aftereffects. She’d force Safyre to remove the device, and that couldn’t happen. It was Safyre’s only means of contacting Crash.

He wasn’t one of the warriors. Half human, half machine, cyborgs were designed to follow orders. Crash didn’t blindly obey any being.

He was a human conduit, a go-between. His communications device was more modern, having once belonged to an E model cyborg, and he claimed he could access transmission lines she couldn’t reach.

Female, the mysterious male transmitted through the cyborg communications device.

Did you speak with the cyborgs on board the freighter? That intergalactic freighter was her ride to Tau Ceti. It was transporting cyborgs to the planet and had the landing clearance she required.

Yes. The male’s deep voice coiled around her heart and tightened her nipples. A female could come simply from listening to him. If her head wasn’t splitting in two from pain.

Safyre winced. Can you control them? She’d crafted a plan. He’d control the cyborgs, ordering them to subdue the crew. She’d sneak onto the freighter before he arrived and take command of the vessel. That would give her control over Crash.

They’ll follow my direction. The certainty in his transmission reassured her.

Safyre was a pilot, not a warrior. She couldn’t defeat one cyborg on her own. The freighter carried one thousand of the manufactured warriors.

This is a reckless plan, female, Crash told her yet again. Discard it before you cause lasting damage to yourself.

The plan is set. She wasn’t changing it. Worry about yourself, not me. For a male interested in obtaining a cyborg army, he was overly concerned with her well-being. That was a strange experience for Safyre, a war orphan. She didn’t know how to deal with it.

And if I back out of the plan—

I’ll implement plan B. There was no plan B, not yet. She’d been contemplating other options, fearing no being would respond to her communications, when he answered. None of the alternatives were feasible.

You will not implement plan B, Crash barked and her spine straightened. I’ll meet with you on board the freighter in one planet rotation.

The line went silent. He must have severed their connection. Crash had the ability to open and close their transmission line, controlling communications. She hadn’t yet mastered that skill.

Crash would communicate with her again. They’d been conversing several times every planet rotation. She couldn’t sidestep Tifara’s questions and avoid his subtle probing at the same time.

She wiped the cleaning cloth under her nose, stuffed the fabric into the front pocket of her navy-blue flight suit and hurried into the medical bay.

About Cynthia Sax

USA Today bestselling author Cynthia Sax writes contemporary, SciFi and paranormal erotic romances. Her stories have been featured in Star Magazine, Real Time With Bill Maher, and numerous best of erotic romance top ten lists.

Sign up for her dirty-joke-filled release day newsletter and visit her on the web at www.CynthiaSax.com

Website:  https://cynthiasax.com/
Newsletter:   https://tasteofcyn.com/2014/05/28/newsletter/
Facebook:  facebook.com/cynthia.sax
Twitter:  @CynthiaSax
Blog:  https://tasteofcyn.com/