UPDATE: The winner is…ButtonsMom!
*~*~*

The Montana Bounty Hunters series located in Bear Lodge is complete. However, I’m planning to write a spinoff series, Montana Bounty Hunters: Dead Horse, MT very, very soon. I loved writing the original series, and I can’t wait to immerse myself writing more of these heavy-duty, gritty guys in the near future. Have you seen the cover for Cage, which will release in July? Yeah. His story will rock! Some of the guys you love from the original series will pop up here and there in Dead Horse—after all, they all work for Fetch Winter. Someday, he’ll get his happy-ever-after, too!

Quincy

MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS: Authentic Men… Real Adventures…

Sparks fly, as do inhibitions, when a bounty hunter and a beautician are forced to hide out together from a dangerous criminal gang…

Former Army Ranger Quincy James and beautician Tamara Davis met under less than idyllic circumstances–trapped inside her doomsday-bunker-turned-beauty-shop while he was hunting a skip. Now that he’s settled into his new job with the Montana Bounty Hunters, he knows he’s dawdled too long asking her out on a legitimate date. But then, he gets a new case right in the pretty beautician’s neck of the woods. A dangerous new assignment he doesn’t want her anywhere near, However, NOT bumping into her proves tricky and when they do cross paths, he blows it.

Tamara’s already feeling foolish over the fact she got way too friendly with Quincy when they were trapped together, but then, he never contacts her again. When she sees him on the street in her little town, she’s ready to give him a piece of her mind, but he acts like he doesn’t know her. What the hell?

When the pair find themselves forced together again, there’s time for a reckoning…

Contest

Are you all caught up reading the Montana Bounty Hunters?

For a chance to win a download of one of the stories you may have missed
(I’ll pick three winners!), tell me this:
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Here are all the Montana Bounty Hunters!

MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS
Authentic Men… Real Adventures…
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Dagger: https://amzn.to/2zo6Dav
Reaper’s Ride: https://amzn.to/2KKkisI
Cochise: https://amzn.to/2zq4avV
Hook: https://amzn.to/2UrpyYh
Wolf: https://amzn.to/2yUTjr5
Animal: https://amzn.to/2H4Roob
Big Sky Wedding: https://amzn.to/33GprwK
Quincy: https://amzn.to/2QlleM8
Brian: https://amzn.to/2ZV8m2G

Excerpt from Quincy

Tamara Adams blew at a strand of hair that flew into her eyes. Her hands were filled with flyers advertising her beauty shop, Curl Up & Dye, and she’d been papering the windshields of vehicles up and down Main Street. This was her latest idea to draw attention to her shop. If something didn’t give soon, she’d have to pay for a station in someone else’s shop, and she’d never realize her dream of owning her own business.

When she came to the line of motorcycles parked in front of S&S, she nearly passed them by. She really didn’t want to attract that caliber of customer, but then again beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Without windshield wipers to clamp against her papers, she used pretty washi tape to attach the flyers and quickly made her way down the row, eyeing the window of the bar with trepidation, because she really didn’t want any ornery biker confronting her about “trashing up” his bike.

Just as she was taping the last flyer to bug-spattered glass, she heard a commotion erupt inside the unsavory establishment. Curious, she strode toward the plate-glass window to peer inside, but the window was dirty and the interior of the bar wasn’t brightly lit, so she shielded her eyes and leaned closer to the glass. What she saw had her eyes widening.

An honest-to-goodness barfight was underway inside. From what she could tell, a bar filled with brawny biker-types faced three equally brawny dudes, but what the trio lacked in numbers, they made up for in sheer meanness.

The two in the center of the bar sent one biker after another flying through the air from well-placed kicks and bone-rattling punches. One of the men wore a prosthetic arm, which he used to great advantage, following his powerful left-fisted punches with thudding body blows delivered by his mechanical arm.

To the left, she watched as a huge orange-bearded man grabbed the third brawler by his collar, only to be head-butted, and while still stunned, swing an arm wide, which propelled him over the hunched body of his adversary where he landed flat on his back and sucking wind.

Curiosity satisfied, and her original gut instinct to give the bar a wide berth confirmed, she moved back from the glass and returned to the curb where she reached over the hood of a car and stuck her pink flyer under a wiper blade.

The door behind her swung open, and she peered over her shoulder.

A familiar man appeared, his gaze sliding past her bent-over body before returning to glance up at her face. His eyes widened for a second, but then he quickly turned his head and walked away.

What. The. Fuck. The man she’d mooned over for weeks, before she’d realized he’d never intended to call her after they’d shared an afternoon of illicit delight, had just walked past her like he didn’t even know her. Not a nod. Not a “Hi, there.” Not a knowing, smirky smile. Nothing.

Her breath caught in her chest as she acknowledged the blow. She’d actually thought they’d shared something special. And she’d been making excuses for his failure to communicate all this time.

Just that morning as Miss Gracie had finished stocking the shop’s refrigerator with her eldercare protein drinks, Tamara had leaned an elbow on her table as she’d sat in her beautician’s chair staring into the lit mirror, remembering how he’d sat there and flirted with his sexy, hazel-green eyes—after she’d zip-tied him to the chair. After all, she’d just been locked inside her bunker by a bail jumper on the lam. The new stranger had claimed to be a bounty hunter, but why should she trust him? His dark beard and intense gaze had sent shivers of awareness through her body.

Okay, so she had a thing for bad boys. Obviously. She’d dated some real winners, but this time, she’d thought…well, she’d hoped…that Quincy James wasn’t a douchebag.

As he strode purposefully away from her, her heart hammered against her chest, and her eyes stung with tears that she quickly blinked away.

No way in hell was he getting away with pretending he didn’t know her. Or worse, that she was bubblegum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Holding her sheaf of flyers against her chest, she ran after him.

When she caught him, she’d give him a piece of her mind. A man did not use a woman and make sexy promises with his eyes. He’d fooled her with his I don’t know how to flirt with a woman bullshit line. She’d swallowed it—and his big cock—and then she’d waited, day after day for him to call. Hell, she’d turned down a date with Mason Jernigan, whom she’d planned to seduce into asking her out on a date before Quincy had been trapped inside her shop. But no! She’d turned Mason down. A good looking man who owned his own small car dealership had asked her out on a date, but she’d held out for the hope of Quincy James, because she wanted more of his wicked kisses.

“Stupid! That’s what I am,” she muttered under her breath. “Thirty fucking years old and I wasted a month of my prime years for you, Quincy James.” She picked up her pace, but although she was running, his long-limbed gait still left her breathless. When he turned the corner to enter a dark alley beside the bar, she didn’t hesitate. She was too mad to take heed of the warning bells ringing in her head. The dark narrow space smelled like old beer and vomit, and her Sketchers made a sound similar to the one they made when she walked across the floor surrounding Miss Gracie’s station where the buildup of hairspray sucked at the rubber bottoms of her shoes.

Ahead, Quincy moved more furtively, running up to the corner of the building to the access road behind the business. She slowed and melted into the shadows, wondering what the hell he was up to, and then he flattened his back against the wall. She did the same, not knowing why, but the tension in his frame transmitted a jolt of fear into hers.

Just then a tall, greasy-haired, bearded man slipped around the corner, moving so quickly he didn’t see Quincy, but he did see her. His eyes widened. “You with those damn bounty hunters, too, bitch?” he growled, not slowing down as he came toward her.

“Not a bounty hunter,” she squeaked. “Beautician.” She raised her flyers to prove her claim, but it was too dark for him to read, or maybe he’d already made up his mind, because the snarl on his face nearly made her wet her pants.

Panicked, she tossed up the flyers like they were a ninja’s magic dust, turned on her heel, and ran for the street.

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As I’m an erotic/steamy romance writer, the title of my post can only refer to one thing: the Cone of Learning. Ha, ha. Made you look.

One long ago Easter from my childhood, I made a Sunday School craft that continues to have a lasting impression on me almost fifty-five years later. What I recall is the first part of the tri-fold craft showed Jesus’ body being laid in the tomb. The second part depicted the stone rolled into place. The third showed the tomb empty. I remember thinking “How was that possible?” Precisely the point of the lesson: it was a miracle. I remember being hit with a sense of wonder like a flashbulb going off. Why is it the recollection of that craft has the same impact on me now when I’m sixty-three years old as it did when I was seven or eight? The answer is the Cone of Learning.

I came across this concept when I trained Sunday School teachers. Developed in the 1960’s by Edgar Dale, the Cone of Learning posits these points: people generally remember 10% of what they read, 20% of what they hear, 30% of what they see, 50% of what they see and hear, 70% of what they say and write, 90% of what they perform. In other words, the deeper you go, the longer it lasts. As I think back on that Sunday school craft, I’m sure I heard the story being told while I colored and cut and pasted in the company of other children doing the same thing. I probably read or repeated bible verses, too. That simple little craft took me deep into the cone.

The Cone of Learning takes on new meaning for me now I’m a writer. As I revise and edit my stories I have to do all I can so the 10% my reader recalls is truly memorable. This is why we writers are encouraged to show don’t tell, to evoke as many of the senses and to get as deep into the character’s point of view as possible. Think about the stories that have stuck with you. Think about passages you read over and over again to relive some delicious thrill or surprise. Your senses were engaged by sensory-rich sentences and settings. Emotion coursed through you as the character’s thoughts and feelings became your own. These authors took you deep and impressed you in ways that guaranteed you’d remember the 10% of what you read long after you put the book down.

With this in mind, my goal is to write thrilling, evocative and emotionally satisfying stories, stories so striking that fifty-some odd years later, the 10% my readers recall will be as fresh and impactful as my recollection of that Easter Sunday School take-home craft.

“$5.00 Kiss of Life” from First Response

Trapped by the small-town conventions imposed on her, a pastor’s spinster daughter finds rescue in the town bad boy’s very public kiss…

Excerpt from “$5.00 Kiss of Life”

Loose lips sunk ships during the war, Bev. And still do. Only now the ships are voter registration drives and lawsuits and attempts at economic self-sufficiency. It’s not Nazi spies listening and betraying but law enforcement officers who first tip-off Klansmen and other night riding types then stand by as they target the Negro lawyers, teachers and ministers who educate and encourage the folk of color to claim their rights. It’s not Tokyo Rose undermining Negro pride and confidence but those among our own people who choose the safety of their present limitations to the risks of a future determined by the freedom of true independence. Loose lips sink ships, Bev…and they still do.

You’d expect the ones oppressing you to do all they could to keep you down. But for members of the race to sow envy and fear and suspicion so as to undermine efforts to uplift the race was most distressing.

And most familiar.

A good reputation was the battleship in need of protection where she lived. To keep it afloat peer pressure, tradition and societal expectation waged a constant battle against the loose lips of gossip and scorn and lies.

As the daughter of the town’s minister she’d experienced the looks and the whispers and the dressing downs that kept her in her place. The freedom garnered by her one small rebellion – becoming the town librarian rather than the dutiful wife of her father’s associate pastor – turned out to be as limiting as the choice she’d rejected.

Preorder – http://amzn.to/3dRvwLE

Author Contact –
Twitter: @ mscottauthor1
Website: www.michalscott.webs.com

UPDATE: The winner is Debra Guyette!
*~*~*

ZERO HOUR (Heroes Rising, Book #2)
They are always heroes, whatever the situation
**Leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of DESPERATE DECEPTION (Heroes Rising, Book #1)

My love affair with SEALs began… I think with the movie about them, but then I watched the series on television every time it was shown. And of course, now we have SEAL Team, to which I am addicted. How can you not be in love with dedicated warriors whose motto is: “The only easy day was yesterday.”

I’ve been writing about SEALs off and on for a long time, as part of my fascination with military heroes. But then I met former SEAL sniper Jack Carr, himself a best-selling author of The Terminal List series, and I was inspired even more. I discovered they are heroes in many, many ways. Especially as they struggle to fit into society again. Things change, life changes, and they have to find a way to change with it.

That’s how my series HEROES RISING was born. I wanted stories to show the struggle to find new footing yet at the same time be dedicated to the ideals of the SEALs. Sheriff Alex Rossi is rebuilding his office in the Crazy Mountains of Colorado, an office that was riddled with corruption, except for one deputy.

Slowly, he has reached out to other SEALs out of the service and searching for a new niche in life. I hope I am able to show the quality of these men despite their circumstances, and how that always rises to the surface.

You can find all the books in Elle James’ Brotherhood Protectors World.

Oh, and one other thing. I held a contest in my reader group to have a character in one of my books named for you. The winner is a longtime fan, Teresa Fordice. I hope I did her proud.

ZERO HOUR

Teresa Fordice didn’t want to go, rogue but.…

Arms manufacturer Reed Morgan’s secret money man is dead and wild rumors of a dangerous plot are floating. Tasked with finding out what it is, ATFE agent Teresa Fordyce must flee for her life. She ignores the order to come in from the field, instead she runs to Montana and the place where Morgan’s secret plan is being hatched. But finding Jesse Donovan there, the man who walked out of her life, complicates things even more.

He might have left the SEALs but the memories of battle still haunt him…

The recurring nightmares made Jesse Donovan walk away from the best woman he ever met but now Fate has thrown them together and he has a chance to redeem himself. Can he get past the memories to help her on her mission to take down a man who may be plotting against the country?

Zero Hour…

What is it? When is it? What is Reed Morgan planning? Can Terry and Jesse find out in time and can they stop him? And what will happen with them after that? Can he walk away again? Will she let him?

Get Zero Hour here!

Excerpt from Zero Hour

“Have a seat.” He indicated one of the two chairs in front of the desk.

“Am I in trouble?” she asked at once.

“Only if you say no.”

She studied his face, trying to discern if he was kidding or not.

“Okay, tell me what’s up.”

“We have a problem, and we’re running out of solutions.”

Terry lifted an eyebrow. “What kind of problem and how can I possibly solve it?”

“We’ve had our eye on Reed Morgan for some time. You know who he is, right?”

“Yes, I’ve read about him. Former military. Left the Army and opened an arms manufacturing company, which has grown to be a monster. Lots of guesses on where his financing came from. Outspoken critical of the government, which he calls too liberal.”

Max rubbed his jaw. “That’s the guy.”

“Then yes, when I joined the ATFE I was aware he had been a priority for some time.”

“Yeah, we’ve had our eye on him, watching his activities. The watch on him has been bumped up several notches in the past year. You know Morgan is considered a hard-liner. Among many other things, he’s been lobbying hard to overturn some of the recently passed gun laws, and his disdain for the government is well-known.”

“The whole agency knows Morgan Arms Manufacturing is one of the largest businesses of its kind in this country. They also own retail stores, plus they supply some of the arms to our military and even more go overseas. Lots of rebellions going on in the world. But I’m guessing you called me in here because something has pushed this to the forefront.”

“It has.”

“I know he’s spoken loudly about what he sees as the failure of America to enforce its laws, and the subsequent rise of crime.” Terry shook her head. “About the increasing numbers of what he called ‘soft’ laws that barely punished the criminals. But speaking out isn’t a crime, although for some people I think it should be. So, what’s changed here?”

“Our sources tell us Morgan Arms is suddenly buying a lot more steel, plastic, and aluminum than usual,” he told her, “so a lot of questions have floated in the air. That was the first thing that caught the director’s eye.”

“Has his client list increased?” Terry asked. “Have his orders from overseas clients gotten bigger?” Max rubbed his jaw. “After all, there is always a rebellion going on someplace and some army, legitimate or otherwise, that needs weapons. Or maybe they’re preparing to release a newly designed instrument. Or finally, is there another reason we don’t know that means trouble for everyone? I agree none of those possibilities are appealing. That’s for damn sure. But buying more raw materials and railing against the government isn’t a crime. If it was the jails would be full all the time.”

“True,” Jaeger agreed. “But here’s something you don’t know. For some time, Morgan’s been gathering a group together, first his closest friends and then people who we think share his beliefs about the way this country is run. You know there have been attacks by these off-the-wall militia groups and, based on what we learned, we’re afraid Morgan’s plotting another one. Anyway, over a year ago we managed to plant someone in Morgan’s group. We needed to find out what the hell was happening. He’s deep undercover, and sometimes we have to wait weeks for a word from him, which doesn’t help..”

“Damn!”

“No kidding. When my guy does get word out to me, he says Morgan’s running this like it’s the military, which is what we figured. I think Morgan’s made this group his own private militia, kind of an outlaw posse comitatus. He also has three or four specially selected men who he calls his ‘guard’ who watch the rest of them like hawks. He’s been making trips recently to the land he owns in Montana, a spread in the Crazy Mountains. Each time, he takes a few of his group with him. Our undercover got taken there once. He managed to get a message out that they train. All day. Every day. Exercise. Firearms. Hand-to-hand combat. And they study explosives.”

“Explosives.”

“Yeah, but they don’t actually detonate anything. I’m sure the neighbors would complain.”

“Still… Are they preparing for war?”

“That’s what we need to know. And it’s been a while since our guy communicated with us.”

“He must be in danger. If Morgan finds out who he is, he’ll kill him.”

*~*~*

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I’m excited to be spending today at the blog home of Delilah Devlin, talking about my new release, TENDER MISDEMEANORS.

The book is set in northwestern Montana, in the Kalispell area. For anyone who hasn’t traveled there, you have missed some beautiful vistas: the Bitterroot Mountains, Flathead Lake, and of course, just north of Whitefish, Glacier National Park. The area is full of beautiful forests, and this is what brings our hero and heroine together.

Caryn Orlane is an enforcement officer with the federal Bureau of Land Management. This agency may sound familiar, because the BLM has had several well-publicized skirmishes with citizens, like the Nevada standoff with the Bundy family in 2014 and another in Oregon in 2016. Politics has more and more become part of the cases the BLM must handle.

Levi Bradshaw is an environmental impact consultant who grew up in the Bitterroot and is fiercely protective of the old forests, leading a monkey-wrenching group that breaks the law to discourage loggers from pillaging the forests.

Throw in a trouble-making pagan group, the Earthenkrafters, the Native American Kootenai protecting tribal sacred places, and white supremacists and other hate groups like the Pioneer Little Europe cults, and you can see why Caryn has her hands full, even before she meets Levi.

So, in a story torn from modern headlines, when these two people meet at gunpoint, it becomes clear their love story will be one full of controversy and danger. I hope you enjoy it.

Tender Misdemeanors

Caryn Orlane has law enforcement in her blood; her father was a cop, and his father, too. She’s a federal agent in northwest Montana, protecting the old forests and keeping the peace.

Levi Bradshaw also believes in protecting the forests but has a very different MO. He’s the leader of a group of eco-warriors, determined to save the trees of the Bitterroot by legal—and illegal—means.

When they meet in the woods at gunpoint, their encounter ignites a spark of interest, despite operating on opposite sides of the law. When their worlds turn on them, they only grow closer. If they don’t work together, can either survive?

Excerpt from Tender Misdemeanors

A dog barked, and she froze. She spotted the animal across the clearing, at least three feet tall, short russet hair with a brown nose and amber eyes. It appeared to be mostly muscle, except for the whorled ridge of hair along its midback. No question the dog had seen her as well. Still barking, it bolted toward her at an alarming rate of speed.

Instinct drove her into retreat; she wouldn’t shoot the dog unless she had to. Quick flashes of the scene as she ran showed the men snatching their equipment, scattering into the woods.

Damn, damn, damn!

Watching over her shoulder, she missed a thick fallen log in her path and tripped over it, falling hard on the ground, her breath snatched away for a few moments. The impact knocked the gun from her hand, and she struggled to retrieve it as the dog came crashing through the brush. It landed squarely on her, still barking, its nails driving into her back, its hot breath in her ear. She expected to feel the sharp bite of teeth at any moment. Desperate, her fingers quested forward for the gun.
A shrill whistle sounded off to her right. “Rosie, what have you got there?”

The dog bounded off her. Caryn lurched for the gun, then shoved herself up into a seated position, holding her weapon in both hands. The person who had spoken appeared in her sights. Aware of the panting animal not three feet away, she couldn’t spare a look, her attention focused on the man.

Nearly six feet tall (or was it just her perspective from the ground?), he stared down at her, seemingly in shock. Thick dark hair lay tousled across his brow, as though he’d just removed one of those ski masks. He wore a simple red plaid flannel shirt and denim jeans, with heavy nut-colored work boots. His build was athletic, and she guessed there was plenty of muscle under the fabric of his shirt and his padded black ski vest. He could have been a model in one of those outdoorsy catalogs, a perfect example of a rugged, handsome western mountain man.

At first, his warm brown eyes captured her interest. But second, his quick movement brought a handgun of his own from behind him, perhaps tucked into his belt, and he pointed it directly at her.

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About the Author

Alana Lorens has been a published writer for more than forty years. Currently a resident of Asheville, North Carolina, she loves her time in the smoky Blue Ridge mountains. One of her novellas, THAT GIRL’S THE ONE I LOVE, is set in the city of Asheville during the old Bele Chere festival. She lives with her daughter, who is the youngest of her seven children, two crotchety old cats, and five kittens of various ages.

Website  https://Alana-lorens.com
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/AlanaLorens/
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4829967.Alana_Lorens
Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/Alana-Lorens/e/B005GE0WBC/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1
Email: contact@alana-lorens.com
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Hi! I’m Megan Ryder and I write sexy contemporary romance with several series all with everyday heroes with deep wounds and feisty women with their own difficult pasts who must come together to heal and find love. My stories feature humor, deep emotion, and sexy times, all in a roller coaster to their happy ever after.

My current series features three foster boys who came to a ranch in Montana, found a home there and a place to heal, yet it took many years before they found what they all truly needed – a family and love of their own. The third book just came out, A Cowboy’s Song, and finishes the trilogy (though I will be returning to the town and the characters in subsequent books for more stories). This book is about the youngest, Ty Evans, who lost his biological family to a car accident when he was twelve years old, and was then placed in foster care. He held himself apart, and even gave up music for many years, unwilling to open himself up after the loss of his family. But now, his brothers have both found love and their own paths forward in their lives and he feels like he’s standing still. He’s feeling a bit lost and wants to find his own place at the ranch and in his life, only he’s not sure the ranch in his place.

Piper is the daughter of country music royalty, only she hasn’t quite lived up to expectations either. Her last tour and album was a bit of a snooze-fest and she’s feeling the pressure to keep up with her parents and older brother, yet she’s not feeling the passion either. She’s invited to the ranch to be in Tara Rawling’s wedding, Ty’s older brother, and she meets Ty.

When Piper and Ty sing an original duet that Ty wrote for the bride and groom and it’s recorded and goes viral, it seems like they both have a new path in life. Piper’s career has a boost and Ty might have a new path – in Nashville. But the romance they started at the ranch may not be strong enough to deal with the outside pressures of the music industry and their own past insecurities.

This book is about finding your passion, your place, and that one person who sees who you really are and loves you for that.

If you like country music, check out the song that was written and recorded for this book, “Ruined Plans Aren’t Always a Bad Thing” by Sierra Bernal. It’s featured in the book and is available on iTunes, Spotify, Amazon music etc. You can also check out my inspiration here on Spotify.

GIVEAWAY

As part of preparing for this book, I listened to a lot of country music, which had been my standard genre but I found I really liked it. This led me to developing the playlist above, so you can hear some of my inspirations for this book. For an ebook copy of this book, tell me what you think is the sexiest country song (or any genre of music) is!

Excerpt from A Cowboy’s Song

He put the travel mug down on the counter. “You call that a kiss? I lent you my dog, and everyone knows a cowboy needs his best friend. I hauled my ass out here in the cold spring night to chase coyotes away. And I apologized. And all I get is a tiny peck on the cheek? I’m feeling a bit cheated here.”

“You yelled at me, offered me your dog, and I never asked you to chase the coyotes. And I gave you my precious coffee. Twice. I’m not entirely sure why I owe you more.”

He pushed off the counter and gave her a lazy smile. “I never said you owed me, darlin’. Just maybe thinking you might want something a little more than that peck.”

A shiver ran up her spine. How could he tell that she wanted to know how his lips felt on hers, what it would be like to trace his muscles with her fingers, and see if his arms would hold her just right? She would be here for only a couple of weeks. It wouldn’t be awkward at all, even if it was bad, but somehow, she sensed it would be pretty damned awesome. And she could use some awesome in her life right about now.

She took a step forward, and his body radiated heat to warm her slightly chilled skin. Her hand reached out and stroked his arm, a tentative motion, then bolder when he stood still, staring at her with dark, fathomless eyes that seemed to see deep into her soul, to the secrets she held inside.

“You’re going to have to make the first move. I won’t have anyone say I forced you.” The deep rumble in his chest startled her in the quiet of the cabin.

She took another step until she was almost flush against him, until just a sliver of air separated them. She rested one hand on his chest, letting her fingertips curve around the muscle of his chest, his heart pounding just under the skin. Her head tilted, and she wet her lips and sucked in a breath. Why had her courage suddenly deserted her? She was inches away from the most desirable man she had seen in years and she was about to back out.

He ran his hand down her cheek and traced her lips with a fingertip then ran them under her chin, lifting her a little more. She parted her lips and her eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his lips on hers, a gentle, introductory kiss. She slowly relaxed under the unhurried tasting, opening her lips a bit more when his tongue stroked against hers. His hand circled her waist and pulled her flush against him, the hard planes of his body fitting neatly against her soft curves, and his tongue dueled with hers, parlaying and dancing in a tangle of passion.

Slowly, he pulled back and she found her hands painfully twisted in his shirt, holding him close, almost climbing him to get closer. She disentangled herself from him and smoothed the fabric of his flannel shirt, trying to ignore the muscles underneath, and the fact that she had a bed just a hallway away.

“I’ll see you in a few hours.” His voice sounded gruff and hoarse with passion.

A Cowboy’s Song

Can they build a future on a shaky foundation?

Tyler “Ty” Evans lost everything in a car accident when he was twelve, retreating into his shell so tightly that it took months for him to come out again. Music and the ranch saved him, and he will always be grateful to his foster family for saving his life. Now, with the ranch on financial tenterhooks, he wonders if he can use his music to contribute to the solution.

Piper Raines is the daughter of a legendary country music family. While her parents and brother are all famous, her attempt at an independent career went off the rails, and, with exhaustion and stress and bad press dogging her every step, she needs a place to recover. When Piper is invited to vacation at the ranch, Piper and Ty connect through horses and music. After a video duet of Piper and Ty goes viral, they’re invited to sing in Nashville, which also provides added pressure, stressing their new relationship.

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Much like the 1960s, the Regency was a special time. It was not as freewheeling as the Georgie period before it, nor was it as straight-laced as the Victorian era that followed it. It was a time of new ideas and thinking. Political groups ranged from the Tories, who supported the monarchy and the old way of life on one side and on the other side were the Whigs who supported a more liberal approach to the new United States, granting more rights to the common man, more educational opportunities, and better working conditions. Then there were the Radicals who supported universal suffrage and the abolishment of the peerage.

Philosophers like Mary Wollstonecraft, Jeremy Bentham, and others were on the ascendant. And, thanks to authors like Jane Austen, the new idea of love matches was taking hold. Once a lady was married and had delivered her husband an heir and preferably a second son as well, she was free to engage in discreet affairs. Yet, young unmarried ladies still had to adhere to a strict set of rules least they be ruined and forced to spend their lives as spinsters, or worse, outcast from their families in a time where it was not easy for a lady to earn a living.

In my latest book, The Most Eligible Lord in London, the heroine, Lady Adeline Wivenly is now faced with putting into practice what she has spent a lifetime learning. Balls and other social events were full of pitfalls for a young lady making her come out. But there were also a few rules gentlemen had to follow as well. Chief of which was not to introduce themselves to a lady. In order to meet a lady, a man had to find someone who knew her and would provide an introduction. Another was to agree to dance with any lady his hostess wished him to. There was no dodging that duty if he wanted to continue to be invited to entertainments. Some gentlemen were able to get around the duty by arriving late and departing early, thus becoming the despair of any hostess.

With everyone in full knowledge of their obligations, what could go wrong?

“Lords Turley and Littleton are coming toward us,” Georgie whispered and glanced at Dorie, who was talking to a worthy-looking gentleman.

Adeline slid a look across the assembly room. Drat. Georgie was right. To make it worse, he was even better looking in evening clothes. No rakes. “I have no objection Lord Turley, but I do not wish to have anything to do with Lord Littleton.”

“You cannot refuse to dance with him.” Georgie’s tone had lowered even more.

“If he even asks me.” Perhaps he would not. “He might ask you or Augusta instead.”

“I do not think so.” She pasted a polite smile on her face and curtseyed. “My lord. Good evening.”

Lord Turley bowed. “Miss Featherton, might I ask you for this dance?”

“It would be my pleasure.” He held out his arm and she took it, leaving Adeline to face Lord Littleton all by herself.

“My lady”—his voice was low and seductive just like a rake’s, and his bow was elegant, but it was his deep meadow green eyes that held her plain gray ones as they had that afternoon. They still made her feel as if she was the only lady he saw. “Would you do me the honor of being my partner?”

She curtseyed and kept her tone cool. “I would be pleased”—not delighted—“to dance with you, my lord.”

The Most Eligible Lord in London

In this captivating new Regency trilogy, bestselling author Ella Quinn picks up where her beloved Worthingtons series left off, as three Lords of London discover true love at last . . .

Handsome, rakish, incorrigibly flirtatious—Fredrick, Lord Littleton, is notorious. Lady Adeline Wivenly is resolved to keep him at arm’s length during her first Season—until she overhears another woman’s plot to trick him into marriage. Even a rogue is undeserving of such deception, and Adeline feels obliged to warn him—only to find herself perilously attracted . . .

In the past, Littleton’s charm nearly got him leg-shackled to the wrong woman. Now he’s positive he’s found the right one, for Adeline is everything he wants and needs in a wife. Her sense of justice is so strong she agrees to help him despite her mistrust. But can the ton’s most elusive lord convince the lady he is finally serious about marriage—as long as she will be his bride?

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Hi! I’m Sierra Brave. I write sizzling romance across several genres. Currently, my favorites places to let my imagination run wild are romantic suspense and paranormal romance. My Horse Mountain Shifters series features rugged men and curvy girls.

The new and nasty COVID-19 virus has everyone locked inside their houses—and with good reason. As the mother of a chronically ill child, I’m all for everyone staying home, staying well and keeping infection rates as low as possible! Today, I’m going to share five ways to pass the time during self-isolation.

• Spring cleaning – not a lot of fun but now’s a great time to go through those old clothes and other household items, deciding what to keep, what to pitch and what to donate when we can venture out again—and lots of people will be in need so having charitable donations at the ready is a good thing.
• Sewing (or crochet, needlepoint, or any of the hobbies lots of us used to enjoy before cellphones/computer games started providing a quick, convenient way to pass time) – Some talented people are even making facemasks out of old bras. If you have some fabric and elastic around the house, there are lots of other facemask patterns online as well.
• Learn a new language – Back to those cellphone and iPad apps – Some pretty decent programs for learning to communicate with people from another country exist and are available through the Apple Store. We can’t travel right now, but there’s no reason not to prepare for when the fine medical experts of the world find a vaccine and cure or create a treatment for us.
• DIY with YouTube – tons of tutorials are available for everything from home maintenance to manicures. My daughter used to love this one from the well-named, Cute Girl’s Hairstyles.
• Finally, the best way to pass the time is to read! Please check out my new release, Saving Suki, and grab your copy today while it’s still on sale.

Saving Suki

Title: Saving Suki
Series: Horse Mountain Shifters
Release Date: April 1, 2020
Genre: Paranormal Romance; Romantic Suspense; Contemporary Western;

Pain Drove Him Away. Her Heart Couldn’t Forget.
Tragedy Brought Him Back. Will Fate Bind Them Together?

Last Day to Buy at the Introductory Price ($.99 US): April 1, 2020
Buy Links:
US https://www.amazon.com/dp/B085X1HZST
UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B085X1HZST
CA https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B085X1HZST
AU https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B085X1HZST

An abusive childhood and an accident in his teens left stallion-shifter, Malcolm Patterson, with a distrust for his father and a lot of holes in his memory. When his dad passes away, Malcolm returns to Horse Mountain to fulfill his obligation to settle his old man’s affairs but finds the shifter community’s near hero-worship of the late doctor disquieting. He’s further shaken to meet a curvy beauty at the funeral who makes his heart gallop and his primal instincts take over.

Suki Marks has been in love with handsome and noble Malcolm Patterson ever since he saved her from bullies who called her an abomination when she was ten. He was the first person to be straight with her about the reasons some people shunned her family and he was quick to debunk those prejudices as the ignorant folktales and stupid superstitions they were. Even after Malcolm graduated high school and left town, she couldn’t forget him, but becoming Doctor Patterson’s live-in nurse in his last year of life was a coincidence. She never expected to be named in the wealthy physician’s will.

Malcolm assumed he’d be disinherited, but even from the after-life, his father continues to turn the knife, using his will to set up an elaborate scheme to taint Malcolm’s feelings for the woman who might be his fated mate. To make matters worse, a dangerous shifter-purist movement is brewing among a small segment of the Horse Mountain Clan, and they’re determined to prevent Suki from passing on her genes to a new generation. Will Malcolm be able to work through his past in time to secure his and Suki’s future?

Warning: Saving Suki is a smoking hot romance with graphic, put-you-in-the-moment love scenes. If you’re offended by sexual language, you might want to consider another book. The book can stand alone without reading the others in the series, but reading Horse Mountain Shifters 1-3, will add to the enjoyment of the experience.

Excerpt from Saving Suki

Malcolm looked through the glass of the refrigerated pie case at the old McGillacutty Dinner as he perused the offerings. He wasn’t about to show up to Mama Carol’s completely empty-handed. A bright yellow flyer attached to the outside of the dessert case with scotch tape caught his eye. He studied the image of the missing girl printed above the lettering spelling out her name, age, and where she’d last been seen along with a phone number and offer of a reward. She was nineteen, blond and had a nice smile, but since he didn’t recognize her and couldn’t be of help, he turned his attention back toward the pies.

After deciding on the chocolate chess, he paid and headed out. He held the box with his desert under his left arm as he wrapped the fingers of his free hand around the glass door’s handle. As soon as he pulled back enough to let in the slightest breeze, the sweet all-consuming aroma from earlier hit him like a ton of bricks. Almost immediately, his heart thumped so hard his chest ached. His mind blanked, his cock twitched and his senses nosedived down into some dark, primal place he hadn’t realized existed. He might have involuntarily shifted right then and there if he hadn’t nearly knocked right into the curvy, brunette beauty who’d spoken with him at the funeral.

Her dark eyes widened and her eyebrows lifted as she gasped and reached out, saving his dessert by a narrow margin. Her hand briefly brushed against his fingers as she steadied the box. Perspiration misted his forehead and the back of his neck as he regained control of his mental faculties.

“Sorry. Are you okay?” He managed to force the words up from his suddenly dry throat.

Shakily, she looked up at him through long, dark eyelashes and nodded. “Uh-huh.”

For what seemed like an eternity, the two of them stood staring at one another until an old lady with a tight, gray perm came up behind Malcolm and demanded, “Move it, sonny.”

He stepped out of the way, holding the door for the elder woman as she shuffled out holding hands with a short, old guy wearing a flapjack hat. Malcolm couldn’t help but smile. He’d always imagined there were couples who’d found each other and stayed in love for all their lives even though none of his relationships seemed to last longer than a month or two. In the last few years, he’d only dated humans which didn’t allow for complete openness or a deeper intimacy.

Malcolm watched as the man walked his lady over to a white Toyota Avalon and opened the passenger-side door for her. As he glanced at the brunette, she tore her gaze away from the same couple and his line of vision synced with hers. For some reason, as if they’d somehow understood they’d been sharing the same thought, a warm blush covered her cheeks. Malcolm looked away as his face burned.

Other Books in the Horse Mountain Shifters Series:
Horse Mountain Heat
US UK CA AU
Real Cowboys Love Cats
US UK CA AU
Bridling Lucy
US UK CA AU

About Sierra

Sierra Brave is a multi-published author of smoking hot romance. Her love of erotic fiction started in her last year of high school when she read the sensual classic, Fanny Hill. She felt so naughty yet liberated with her copy tucked away in her book bag and hopes her work will have the same delicious effect on her readers.

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