Next week, the fourth book in the Montana Bounty Hunters series hits Amazon! Cochise is more of what readers have been loving—a hot as hell bounty hunter who doesn’t like rules, a strong heroine worthy of our hero, and an action-packed story! Oh, and there are plenty of sexy times, too! Read the opening of the story below. Then be sure to catch up on books one through three! Get ready for a wild ride!

Former Army sniper, Cochise Mercier, left Denver SWAT under a cloud of controversy, which was why he ended up back home in Montana, and where he heard about the Montana Bounty Hunters. The “cloud” didn’t seem to bother his new boss, so he’s all in and finding he enjoys hunting down fugitives for bounties, encumbered by fewer rules.

Sammy McCallister is a by-the-book sheriff’s deputy, who has a beef with bounty hunters. Forced to stand by with her gun in her holster, while hunters take down scumbags, she’s particularly irked by the new guy in town. Cochise, with his long black hair and thousand-yard-stare makes her uncomfortable, itchy in ways she’s never felt before. When she finds herself needing his help, the reason for her irritation becomes all too clear. She wants him. But first, they have to make it out of the mountains alive…

Pre-order your copy here!

Cochise Mercier, the new hire at Montana Bounty Hunters, took a deep breath to force his heart to slow its pace. A trick he’d learned as an Army sniper to make sure a jerking breath didn’t mess up a shot. The trick worked in most situations when he needed his mind to slow and for his focus to home in on a target or a situation. Clearing his mind meant he was able to take in more of what was happening around him and enabled him to discard the things that weren’t important—like the way the wind beat a tree branch against the side of the house, a steady thump that sounded almost like clomping footsteps. Instead, he concentrated on the way the light, beaming through the tall arched windows at the front of the house, flickered whenever his target paced left or right, telling him where their mark was. An important fact, because in seconds, he’d have to breach the oak front door and be ready to take him down—with his weapon or his body, depending on whether Randy Pinter was armed. A fact Cochise would have to ascertain in a split second.

“Can’t see any movement in the back rooms,” came Jamie Burke’s voice through his earpiece. “I think he’s alone.”

He still wasn’t used to hearing a woman’s voice on the comms. He’d never had a female as part of any of his missions on the ground with the Army, and Denver’s SWAT had, at the time, been all male. That voice interrupted his calm. His instinct was to protect women and children, but she was a part of this team—and his boss—so again, he drew a deep breath, pushed aside his concern, and concentrated on his target. Pinter was pacing in front of the window to the right of the front door.

“Girlfriend’s car isn’t in the garage,” came Sky Reynold’s deep voice. “Must have gone for takeout. I’m moving around to the front.”

“Deputies just arrived,” Lacey Jones’s too perky voice sounded. “I’ll go brief them about what’s about to go down. Make sure they know we have the owner’s permission to be here.”

Cochise could hear the excitement in her higher pitch. Thank God, she was back at the road with the vehicles. The thought of her cotton-candy sweetness being anywhere near Pinter made him shudder. The girl might have qualified with her weapon and might be doing well with her self-defense classes, but she had no real experience going head-on with bad dudes. He didn’t want to be around the first time she was truly tested.

“You call it, Cochise,” Jamie said.

With his heart as slow as when he slept, he felt the familiar ice-water chill flow over him. “Ready,” he whispered and then stepped away from the bushes beside the porch. “Moving toward the door… On three. One…two…three.”

He pounded three times on the door. “Federal Recovery Agent! Get down on the floor!”

Then, just as they’d rehearsed, Sky popped up, used a short cudgel to break the right front window, and tossed a flashbang grenade through the opening he’d made.

Cochise turned his back and crouched beside the door. A split second later, he heard the explosion and a muffled shout. He stood and swung the battering ram against the thick front door. The frame around the door splintered. He tossed the ram and kicked the thick oak, waiting as it slammed forward against dark wood flooring. Then pulling his weapon from its holster, he stepped onto the door into the foyer.

Inside, he saw no sign of Pinter. “Not in foyer. Moving to living room.”

“I’m coming your way,” Jamie said, and then a moment later, “Mudroom, clear. I’ll check the garage.”

Sky stepped to the right. “I’ll take the kitchen.”

Cochise headed through the living room. “Living room clear.” Then he moved toward the room farther to the left—a study he’d peered inside earlier. He shoved open the door, stepped to the side, then quickly darted through the opening, bending low as he entered. He glanced behind a sofa, opened the closet. “Clear.”

“Clear in the kitchen,” said Sky. “Moving toward the stairs.”

Cochise cleared the downstairs bathroom, another hallway closet, and then ran up the stairs. Just as he reached the darkened landing, he saw Sky back out of a bedroom and shake his head. Cochise signaled that he’d head right toward what he suspected was the master bedroom, while Sky took a smaller bedroom at the other end of the hallway. Cochise unclipped his Maglite from his web belt and shone it down the darkened hallway.

“Garage clear,” Jamie said.

“Make sure the bastard didn’t circle around to the backyard.” Lacey and Dagger had the road and yard fence line covered, and both were quiet.

Just as he reached out to turn the door handle for the master bedroom, Sky whispered, “Clear.” Cochise tensed. Last possible place.

Pinter must have shot up the steps the second the window was broken. Slippery bastard. Something they’d learned talking to the cops who’d arrested him for a home invasion. The fact the judge had awarded him bail after he’d led the police on a three-mile foot race through backyards, over fences, and through busy intersections, where he’d nearly lost the cops, had the entire team shaking their heads. The $500,000 bail must have seemed an impossible goal for a two-time loser, but the prosecutor hadn’t looked closely enough at the family to raise an argument. They hadn’t known the grandfather doted on the prick. He’d willingly used his ranch to secure the bond.

Why Pinter had chosen a life of crime was beyond Cochise. He came from money, dated money, and now, he was facing decades in jail after beating up a couple he’d robbed at gunpoint for a measly sixty dollars and a wedding ring.

Sky came up beside him, a shotgun loaded with beanbag rounds raised, with the stock against his shoulder, and cupping a flashlight against the barrel. He gave Cochise a nod.

Cochise quietly turned the knob then shoved it open. Sky preceded him through the door, turning his body to the left then the right.

Cochise went to the bed and flipped the mattress off the frame. Nobody huddled under it. He quietly slid open the nightstand drawer, the place where Mr. Anderson said he kept a handgun. Shining the light inside the drawer, Cochise noted it was empty, except for a bag of cough drops and loose change. Catching Sky’s glance, he shook his head.

He moved to the bathroom door while Sky sped to the walk-in closet.

As he turned the handle, he heard the scuff of a foot and froze. Withdrawing his hand, he signaled to Sky, who quickly edged to the opposite side of the door.

Pinter had plenty of warning they were there. He had no place left to hide. Likely had the gun. Cochise’s best route would be to get him to surrender.

“Randy,” Cochise called out, “you’re not getting out of this house. We’re bounty hunters, and we’ve been tracking you for days. A whole goddamn team to take down your sorry ass. We have deputies in the road out front in case you decide to be stupid. You’re not going to be stupid, are you?”

Sky moved a step backward. “We think we have him cornered in the upstairs bathroom,” he whispered to the team. “Get eyes on the side of the house beneath the window.”

“Already there,” Dagger said.

Sky moved closer.

“Buddy,” Cochise said, keeping an even tone. “Your best move is to come out with your hands up where we can see them.”

Ten seconds passed. Not a sound came from behind the closed door.

Again, Cochise reached out and gripped the knob. It was locked. Stepping in front of the door, he raised a foot.

But he heard a click and pitched to the side. An explosion ripped through the door.

On his back on the floor, Cochise stared at a circle with splintered edges right where he’d been standing a second earlier. He rolled to his feet, his weapon aimed at the hole.

“What the fuck?” Jamie shouted in his ear. “Coming up the stairs.”

“Deputies are running for the house,” Lacey said sounding breathless, like she was running, too.

In the distance, he heard several sets of footsteps stomping quickly up the stairs. No way was he letting the women anywhere near this vicious pig. He aimed at the door. “Better get on the ground, Pinter.” Then he fired two shots, just to make sure the dirtbag was taking cover, and kicked in the door.

Inside the room, he made out the glint of metal coming from around the side of the shower stall. He ducked into the stall as a shot fired. Then he darted out again, reaching out his left hand as the handgun appeared around the corner. With his back to Pinter, he gripped the weapon, shoving it, and the hand that held it, to the side. A shot hit the toilet, shattering porcelain. Water spilled out onto the floor.

A punch landed against his ribs, knocking the breath from his lungs, but Cochise didn’t let go of the gun, he spun and shoved the hand holding the gun against the edge of the stall.

The gun clattered away.

More punches hit his sides—much good that did, because his Kevlar vest took the blows—but Cochise couldn’t end this while all he held was Pinter’s hand. He jerked Pinter forward then backed him into the shower stall, crushing him against the tile with his body, unable to turn because he still held his own weapon outstretched. With his elbow, he beat backwards, catching Pinter in his sides.

Searing pain in the corner of his shoulder sucked away what was left of his breath. “Motherfucker, did you bite me?”

He beat back his elbow and aimed a backward kick at a knee.

The lights to the bathroom flashed on.

Sky filled the doorway, his glance taking in the gun on the floor. He moved forward and reached out. Gladly, Cochise gave him his weapon, and then turned and pummeled Pinter, clipping him in the jaw, the ribs, then giving him another punch to the jaw.

As Randy Pinter sagged toward the gray stone floor of the shower, Cochise kept his fists balled. But Pinter’s eyelids lowered, and his jaw relaxed.

A clap against his shoulder made him wince. “Think we have him,” Sky said.

Cochise lowered his eyebrows. “We?”

Sky grinned. “Hey, I freed your hand.”

“Fucker.”

“Tell me that wasn’t satisfying.”

Cochise grunted.

Just then, Jamie rounded the corner, two deputies crowding in behind her. One tall, burly male and a female with scraped back hair and angry eyes.

Suddenly, the spacious bathroom was too crowded.

“Do we have to call an ambulance?” Jamie asked.

Sky leaned over Pinter and ran his hands over his body, doing a quick search for weapons. When he straightened, he aimed a kick at his hip.

Pinter stirred and moaned.

“Nope, he’s conscious,” Sky said, his mouth curving into a smirk. “Jail’s just fifteen minutes away. They can take him to the ER to be checked out.”

Cochise bent and rested his hands on his knees, dragging in deep breaths to clear his head of the anger still pounding through him.

Jamie came up beside him and plucked at the neck of his tee. “Too bad he didn’t get a mouthful of Kevlar. That has to hurt. Buddy, you might need stiches. Sky and I will make sure this one gets to jail. Your vehicle’s still back at the office; I can have Lacey take you to the ER.”

Cochise straightened, inwardly cursing the fact his truck was back at the agency parking lot. He’d ridden with Sky and Jamie on the way over.

“I’d love to,” Lacey said, her blonde head peering around the corner, “but I can’t wait on you. Dagger and I have to drive to Whitefish to meet up with Reaper. He texted that he’s found Wallace’s hideout.” She gave a hundred-watt smile. “We’re riding into the mountains on horseback.”

Jamie groaned. “Good Lord. Last time Reaper was on horseback, he nearly drowned in a stock pond.”

“You can drop me at my truck. I can get myself to the ER,” Cochise said, and warmed to the idea. Anything to avoid listening to Dagger give Bounty Hunter Barbie another long lesson about how not to get killed doing her job. “You two need to get on the road, or you won’t get any rest.”

A throat cleared to his right. The female deputy’s frown was fierce, but she lifted her chin. “I can drop you, but I won’t wait around.”

He nodded. From her expression, she was about as thrilled with the idea as he was. She’d dump him at the entrance, and he’d be on his own. The way he liked it. “Suits me fine. And I appreciate it.”

I’ve been writing for a while. I have numerous series, standalone titles, and short stories. If you’ve never read or barely read me, I can keep you busy for a while! 🙂

One of my first series, that’s still ongoing, is my Night Fall series. It’s near and dear to my heart. And there are 14 stories in the series, so far. The last title I released was Big Bad Wolf, which I adored. What wasn’t to love? A rugged, backwoods wolf with no love for vampires. A vampire with every reason to hate wolves… Of course, they had to fall in love. And there will be more stories. So, dive in. None of them are terribly long. You can consume them like candy. I dare you to give them a try…

Comment for a chance to win your choice of download from among the stories shown below! I’ll pick three winners!

Click on the covers to learn more about the stories!

    

    

   

Big Bad Wolf

Ginnie Martin is a badass. She was born that way one horror-filled night. Forged in blood—her own and her family’s. All were ravaged by savage beasts. Her vampire savior recruited her to fight with his small army against the creatures responsible for her devastating loss. But now, he’s asking too damn much. He wants her to open her home to new allies who, until only recently, were their fiercest foes. Wolves.

Calum Fletcher already bristles against providing muscle to a vampire force. Content living in his remote mountain cabin, he’s never been much for mixing with other wolves, much less making nice with vampires. He was already having a hard time dealing, but the woman letting him bunk in her home wears an even larger chip on her shoulder. Quickly, his new favorite sport is goading her into losing her temper—because everyone knows a vampire’s bloodlust leads to very sexy places…

Read an excerpt…

The moment Calum Fletcher stepped into The Cavern, his body quickened. The heavy thud of his heart pounded at his temples. His skin prickled. Above the scent of booze and sex, he noted the musty, metallic odor of blood, and his stomach churned. Every instinct shouted danger.

Striding past the brawny, dull bouncer at the door, he kept moving, needing to draw calm around him before his nature was revealed. Although the vampires had been warned of his pack’s arrival in Seattle, he preferred to cloak himself in humanskin, free of wolf scent. The better to study the enemies he’d now be aligning with in war.

Dance music beat against his body. Bright, strobing lights pierced his eyes. Turning from the dance floor, he moved toward the bar, ignoring the activities of the patrons—the feasting, the fucking. Everywhere, except at the bar, an orgy of bloodlust and sexual excess was in progress.

The blonde behind the bar gave him quick, assessing glance. Her green eyes narrowed. “Can I get you a drink?” she asked, all the while continuing to watch him as though she expected trouble.

“A beer.”

“No preference?”

He shook his head, wanting to look away, but he was studying her as well. The blonde, uneven cut that barely reached to her chin looked wind-tousled. Her pale unpainted cheeks were as smooth as porcelain. Her mouth was bowed but held in a tight, firm line. Below, her figure was lean and muscled with only a slight flare of hips and a meager bosom.

And then he viewed her clothing—a black, form-fitting tank and faded blue jeans with ragged holes over both knees, stuffed into square-toed black boots. Harsh, dark. Echoing the look in the eyes.

Vampire, he concluded. Had she already guessed his true nature?

She placed the beer on a cardboard coaster in front of him. “Haven’t seen you here before,” she said, her voice soft, but with a hint of an edge.

“I’m from out of town.” Out of state, actually, but he didn’t elaborate.

“How did you find this place?”

He gave a shrug then met her gaze, locking with it. “I was walking along the docks. Heard the music.”

She frowned. “And once you came inside…?”

Her tone clued him she was angling to hear what he thought of what was going on. A human who ventured inside by accident should be shocked. So, she hadn’t made him.

He held still. Barely breathed. If she knew he wasn’t a willing “host,” someone who understood the rules of the blood exchange, what would she do? His curiosity was piqued by her deepening frown and downturned mouth. Was she considering giving him a “friendly” warning?

Calum broke with her gaze and glanced at the dance floor. Most pairs danced, bodies moving in a wild fervor. A few barely swayed while hosts’ necks bent and vamps’ mouths worked, teeth and tongues biting and licking. He barely repressed a shudder. Worse, his gums tingled. When he turned back, he didn’t bother hiding a frown.

She reached out a hand and cupped the back of his wrapped around the beer. “Are you curious?” she asked, her voice thicker than before and lisping.

Curious about her, yes. Which should have alarmed him. But she wasn’t flirting and wasn’t attempting to use her vampire’s tricks to seduce him. Her gaze was direct. A straightforward challenge.

And although he wasn’t there to play, he did have time to satisfy his curiosity. The rest of his pack would be arriving soon enough. He’d pushed ahead of the convoy while they’d stopped for a meal. He gave a slight nod.

Her chest rose, and she lifted a hand to signal to a waitress, who made her way behind the far end of the long wooden bar. Then the blonde lifted the hinged, vertical opening in the bar and stepped through to join him.

Standing next to him, she had to raise her head to meet his gaze, something that appeared to irritate her, because a frown dug a line between her brows. “Bring your beer.” She stepped past him, skirting the dance floor and moving toward a row of leather-upholstered booths at the opposite side of the room, lit only by candles set in decorative glass bowls.

He followed, beer in hand, then slid into the booth she indicated.

Rather than taking a seat opposite him, she slid in beside him and turned, raising one knee to the seat. Her gaze went to his beard then trailed over his chest and below, before slowly rising again to his face. “I’m Ginnie,” she said, her voice huskier than before.

He noted the sharpened tips of her corner canines, peeking from beneath her upper lip. “Calum,” he said, his own voice deepening. His breathing was coming faster, sitting this close to her, drinking in her sweet-almond scent, which should have acted like repellent. But almond blended with a slight hint of vanilla and her feminine musk, and now moisture gathered in his mouth. He wanted a taste.

His mouth twitched and, inside, he laughed at himself for his attraction. How long had passed since he’d fucked a woman? Now, he wished he’d come better prepared. Vampires were naturally sensual creatures. That was all this lust was. He was growing aroused because she was what she was, and he’d been without for far too long.

Thank you, Delilah, for inviting me to hang out with your readers today!

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. And Jill a dull girl. Along those same lines, a common thread in writerly conversations is the need to step away from our computers/notebooks/scrolls and refill the creative well. Getting out of our chairs is good for our physical health. And getting out of our writing cave benefits our mental health. Plus, it’s nice to feel the sun on our cheeks and breath outdoor air.

I know many of my fellow scribes are introverts and would be perfectly happy to be hermits all day, every day. I go for days seeing only my hubby, and I’m fine with that. But there’s a whole wide world outside my walls and it behoves me to enjoy as much of it as I can while I’m able.

To that end, hubby and I dusted off our bicycles the other day and went for a ride. Not far from our house lies a former railroad that has been converted to a walking/biking rail. Lined with trees, shrubs, and flowers, away from vehicular traffic, and without steep hills, it’s a lovely way to bike into town. Or from one town to the next if you’re feeling energetic. Did I mention no steep hills? Because trains needed fairly level terrain, us middle-aged bicyclists benefit now that the rails are torn up.

(As an aside, I wish we had better train service in this part of the world [NS, Canada] like a lot of other developed nations do.)

Our recent trip, the first of the season, was a brief expedition to check out our machines and to limber disused muscles. We encountered a few other bicyclists and a few walkers, including a couple visiting our fair town from Nottingham, UK! We had a lovely chat on the trail and shared the location of a pair of deer we’d seen.

Here are a few pictures I took along the trail:

The larger of the two deer, along with a herd of cattle who quickly became bored with our presence. The lupines are starting to bloom and I revel in the many shades of blue and purple they display. Finally, one of our neighbours welcomed us home.

After a few hours in the saddle I returned to my writing cave refreshed in body and spirit. And eager for our next outing, which will include a picnic lunch and an ice cream at our destination.

To my fellow writers, what do you do to get away from the story mill and experience the wide world?

And to my fellow readers, if you were presented with an entire day free from obligations, how would you spend your time?

Love & Mayhem

Sybil is happily on the shelf, tending to her sheep. But she fears she’ll depart this life without experiencing physical love, which she suspects is rather enjoyable. When her long-lost fiancé returns from sea, she decides he’s the lucky man who’ll receive her virginity.

Max is eager to return to his sugar plantation and has no intention of remaining long in London. However, he didn’t bargain on a wilful, pretty, exasperating spinster determined to take him to her bed.

He insists on marriage but she wants only his body. Her heart is not part of the deal. Unfortunately, love doesn’t always follow the rules.

Get your copy here!

Excerpt:

“I see all sorts of advantages to the married state.” He brought her hand to his mouth, kissing each knuckle in turn before kissing her palm. Then he flicked his tongue over the inside of her wrist. She bit back a moan. Who knew the wrist was such a sensitive spot?

She forced her mind back to the task at hand. Which, when you came to think of it, served the other task as well. Namely, getting him to flick his tongue on other sensitive parts of her body. She took a deep breath. “Some enjoy those advantages without the bother of a marriage ceremony.”

Buy links:

Wild Rose Press: https://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/non-american-historical-romance/5180-love-and-mayhem.html
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Love-Mayhem-Luanna-Stewart-ebook/dp/B072TQGG3J
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/love-and-mayhem/id1252491353?mt=11
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/love-and-mayhem-1
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/love-and-mayhem-luanna-stewart/1126952180?ean=2940158555770

About the Author

Luanna Stewart has been creating adventures for her imaginary friends since childhood. As soon as she discovered her grandmother’s stash of romance novels, all plots had to lead to a happily-ever-after.

Luanna writes full time, concentrating on sexy romantic suspense, steamy paranormal romance, and spicy historical romance.

Born and raised in Nova Scotia, Luanna has recently returned to the land of her birth with her dear husband and two spoiled cats. When she’s not torturing her heroes and heroines, she’s in her kitchen baking something delicious.

Under her previous pen name of Grace Hood she has two novellas published with The Wild Rose Press.

Social media links:

Website:  http://www.luannastewart.com/
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/Luanna_Stewart
Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/Luanna.Stewart.nau
Pinterest:  https://www.pinterest.com/luannastewart/
Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14104212.Luanna_Stewart
Amazon Author Page:  www.amazon.com/author/luanna_stewart

My first book was At the Mercy of Her Pleasure, a science fiction romance. I released it in 2004, only a few years after 9/11. The news was full of women wearing burkas and the controversy over wearing one by choice versus being given no option. I decided to include a reference to this in my book, but I changed it from being women to being an entire race of people.

“Betters” were called so because they were genetically enhanced to do more, be more, perform more, remember more. They were physically beautiful. As close to perfect as possible and far beyond superhuman. When society realized that Betters could also control a normal human’s mind by means of voice, it frightened them, and they called for the cessation of Better creations as a whole.

Fearmongers demanded all Betters be sterilized to prevent them from multiplying and taking over society.

At the time of my story, the Better Laws prevented them from going out in public uncovered. They could show only hands and faces, or face penalties and jail time. The heroine, a captain in the rebel army, always finds ways to perform her duties without calling attention to herself. Until now.

For this mission—getting back a prototype stolen by the government—she must show herself in public as a Better who flaunts the law. Her cover is a rich cougar with a cute boy toy on her arm. To accomplish this, she hires an attractive young thief to steal back the item. There’s just this small catch. He’s been sedated by his master and cannot respond to her whatsoever. This could be one frustrating mission.

Here’s an excerpt.

From At the Mercy of Her Pleasure

NarrAy met Senth’s penetrating gaze. How had she ever seen him as a boy?

He had a man’s hands, well-groomed nails and sinewy forearms that revealed power and strength. His biceps bulged. Angular jaw, a firm mouth with lips made for kissing. A hot flutter rose within her and she tamped it down at once, refusing to let her pheromones get the upper hand.

Senth was watching her, gaze narrowed, head tilted. He gave a sniff and then eased into a smile. His proximity heightened her desire. He smelled clean, fresh and ruggedly male. A tingle signaled the imminent letdown of her pheromones and she fought to calm the spike of lust flickering through her like a torch about to combust.

Senth’s faint smile revealed nothing, but he lifted his head, sniffing the air. Kin could smell emotion and desire. Could a half-breed? Might be time to find out…
—
At the Mercy of Her Pleasure is a fast-paced sci fi romantic comedy. He’s an adorable, fun-loving hero who’s half-human and half-cat. She’s a by-the-book army captain. Do opposites attract?

Oh, mercy!

Universal book link https://books2read.com/u/m2o9P1

About the Author

Kayelle Allen writes Sci Fi with misbehaving robots, mythic heroes, role playing immortal gamers, and warriors who purr. She’s a US Navy veteran who’s been married so long she’s tenured.
https://kayelleallen.com
Twitter https://twitter.com/kayelleallen
Facebook https://facebook.com/kayelleallen.author
Join the Romance Lives Forever Reader Group —  Download four free books and get news about books coming soon. You can unsubscribe at any time.

UPDATE: The first 7 commenters are all winners!

*~*~*

Sometimes, an erotic romance author has to write a story with a six-person ménage. It’s a rule. I swear. Sometimes, the author doesn’t even know it’s going to happen, and then…boom! It’s there on the page, and there’s just no way she can cut those very naughty words.

Well, love it or not, this is my six-person ménage. And I love Tetrick and Mora, They’re both strong personalities, although she doesn’t realize it until she meets him. And oddly, it’s a sweet story. Go figure.

If you comment below, you might be one of three people who will win a free download of this story. I know you want it, if for no other reason than to see how it works. Keeping track of all those limbs and, um, appendages takes some skillz, y’all. 🙂

Warlord’s Destiny

Mora has no illusions she’s anything other than the sacrificial lamb to ensure peace between her peace-loving planet and the warlike world that demands a royal union with one of their own. However, when she meets the rugged warlord who will be her husband, Mora decides in that moment to win his heart—she’ll settle for nothing less.

When Lord Tetrik suspects his wife harbors tender feelings, he wonders if he can be the husband she desires. After all, love for a woman is a frivolous thing—and not a warlord’s destiny.

Warning: Readers should beware. Wedding customs on other planets do not resemble tender newlywed customs on Earth! Expect a smidge of voyeurism and a 6-person ménage. And yes, Kronaki warlord’s bed is built large enough for just such an event!

From the opening…

So, that’s what Kronaki warriors look like!

Every story ever whispered about the fearsome warriors came rushing back to set Mora’s body trembling. How they fought like ravaging beasts, cutting bloody swaths through Graktilian mercenaries during the war. How they lived in rough, stone fortresses made of blocks carved from their frozen mountains. How they fostered their children to rival clans so they would be raised without gentleness.

How they fucked with such fury their women’s screams echoed throughout their valleys.

Mora felt a tremor rumble beneath the polished, marble floor of the great hall, so explosive was the swell of conversation that arose at the warriors’ arrival.

They were seven, dressed in furs and leather, armed with bows slung across their shoulders and scabbards at their sides.

She couldn’t drag her gaze from the man at the head of their formation, striding toward her—her husband in name, if not yet by deed. Although she had never seen him before this day, she knew it must be him, for he looked the fiercest, the strongest—only one such as he would be chosen to rule from amongst their ranks.

He was from a race of barbarians, seemingly as proud of their reputation for brutal warfare as their orgiastic sexuality. The latter, Mora could well believe for the man stalking her now looked every inch a sensual marauder. Read the rest of this entry »

A year ago, Bravo Team WOLF faced the challenge of discovery when Corporal Kaitlyn Amador was assigned to their unit. The wolves serving as a special unit of Force Recon Marines come from different packs as part of a negotiated agreement between the U.S. packs and the U.S. government. Bravo Team WOLF serves their country and the packs maintain their autonomy and secrecy. Kaitlyn’s presence threatens that agreement, but Captain Jax Raymond’s interest in her is an even greater threat to his peace of mind.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nwSKMCe5NP0

Now, Sergeant Carlos “Cage” Castillo faces a new challenge when he leads a small contingent of the team to rescue a kidnapped child in Costa Rica. It’s just another day at the office until he accidentally bites aid worker Bianca Devlin who invested herself in saving the kid, too.

What happens in the jungle doesn’t stay there, and now Cage must stick close to Bianca in case his bite turns her—falling in love wasn’t in the mission statement, nor was turning her life upside down.

Wolves

When you’re writing wolves you know a lot about the characters before you start:

1. They’re loyal.
2. They’re tough.
3. They want to protect.
4. They are fierce and passionate.
5. Dominance games aren’t always played through physical action

These wolves come from different packs, different backgrounds—so much, that while they have a lot in common, they have different socio-cultures that come into play. Serving together, however, has also given them bonds of brotherhood. Immersing myself in that world is always a thrill.

Marines

These guys will go the distance to serve their country, their packs, and each other. What makes them a team is their loyalty, toughness, fierce protectiveness and their innate desire to serve. It also gives the term hard-headed a whole new meaning. Every single one of them volunteered. They train together. They work together. And they balance their differences with a common goal—getting the job done.

Cage kicks this book off with a lot to prove—to himself. Bianca is a woman who grew up in the service of others, and she thrives on saving people. Sure, they seem like a match made in wolf heaven, but what if being a wolf isn’t what she wants? And what if all the secrets Cage is keeping costs him more than he knew he could want?

All of this and more comes into play in Bitten Under Fire, releasing on May 28. May is Military Appreciation Month, and Monday the 28^this Memorial Day. While Bravo Team WOLF is a work of fiction, it’s also a love story to those who serve in all walks of life.

Contest

In honor of all of these, I’m giving away an e-copy of When Danger Bites, book 1 of Bravo Team WOLF. Just tell me what your favorite part of wolf or military stories are…what do love about these kind of heroes?  C’mon, take a walk on the wolf side and discover Bravo Team WOLF today!

Here’s a sneak peek at Bitten Under Fire:

Cage gave up on even the pretense of sleep and rolled out of the too-soft bed at four a.m. His body clock, still tuned to East Coast time and training, told him he should be out with the team. He could be on a run with the guys, alternating their training between wolf and human forms. Hell, if he timed it right, he could be out in the hill country and running free for the sheer joy of it. Instead, he stood in a dark bedroom, on a hilly suburban street near Austin, staring broodingly at the house across the street.

Bracing one hand against the window edge, he debated the next step. Spending time with Bianca was not a hardship; in fact, he’d half forgotten his purpose over dinner the night before. Watching her eat the ice cream aroused him and left him lusting hard. So much so, he’d been sure his erection would have a permanent zipper imprint.

His wolf didn’t help, not one bit. In fact, the beast settled in her presence and wanted to take root. The animal hated leaving. Between her tantalizing scent and absent-minded licking of her lips, Cage had to admit he found it difficult to bid her good night and walk out her front door.

Once outside, he’d noticed her windows were still open, upstairs and down. She hadn’t turned on any external lights, and he was pretty sure if he navigated his way over the back wall and leapt onto the deck, he’d find her French doors still wide open.

They’d eaten on her deck. She seemed more comfortable outdoors than in. He could get inside, maybe even steal a kiss before telling her to lock up for her own safety.

I’m not here to seduce her.Having to repeat the mantra after a sleepless night didn’t improve his mood. Bianca had accepted his reasoning for being across the street, but her suspicions filled him with pride. She wasn’t the type to just take a story at face value. Then again, he hadn’t been 100 percent honest with her.

There was no easy way to say, “I might have just changed your life forever…by the way, how do you feel about becoming an animal?” The wolf didn’t give a damn about Cage’s reasons for why they were there. The wolf liked Bianca, enjoyed her scent, and her husky voice. So do I.

Movement by her front door attracted his attention, and he let the wolf peek out. The shift of his eyes was a controlled move, and it allowed his night vision to expand. Bianca exited her place wearing a pair of denim shorts with frayed hems, an open button-down shirt over a tank top, and her feet were encased in pair of sneakers. She paused to lock the door, a bit of a struggle with her splinted wrist.

Hair swept back into a ponytail, she looked fresh and bright—if one discounted the bruise on her cheek or the scrapes visible on her forearms and long legs. Where the hell was she going at four in the morning?

Leaving, she moved slowly and deliberately down the steps, favoring her right leg. Her feet had been scratched, bruised, and damaged. Even last evening when she sat on her deck, bare feet stretched out to rest on the rail, he’d seen the angry marks on them.

As she reached the sidewalk, she paused, hands on her hips, and looked left then right. Her gaze swept back and forth, and it was then he realized her lips were moving. Even with his superior night vision, he couldn’t read what she said. Finally, she turned toward the uphill rise on her right and began walking.

At four in the morning.

In a city she didn’t know.

In a neighborhood she’d just moved to.

Cage growled then hurried to throw on shorts, a T-shirt, and running shoes. In less than three minutes, he’d dressed, descended the stairs, and let himself out of the front. Jogging, he followed her scent easily. Even at her limping walk, she’d made it to the end of the block and continued around the curve.

He’d almost caught up to her when it occurred to him that running at her in the dark might not be the wisest course. Slowing, he opened his mouth to warn her he was there, when she spun and slammed a taser into his side. The voltage sent a cascade through his nervous system. One minute he was standing, the next he lay on the ground staring at her dumbly.

“Oh, shit!” Bianca cursed, then turned off the flickering taser. Kneeling, she grimaced and touched his arm. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he said, slowly, not sure he trusted his voice. His wolf felt as stunned as he was. The shocks rioting along his nerve endings zapped him in lessening increments. Tingles spread throughout his limbs. His tongue seemed permanently rooted to the roof of his mouth. “No.”

The weight of her hand on his arm riveted him, helping to ground out the solid scrambling she’d sent through his system. Wolves were hardy beings, and they could take a solid beating. Most minor injuries they could heal in a short time. More serious wounds—bullet wounds, knife stabs, even claw rips—they could heal by shifting.

Electricity ripping through them? That hurt on multiple levels, and not even a wolf could recover from the stunning effect swiftly. Maybe it had something to do with the disconnect he felt with his wolf right now. The animal seemed dazed and distant.

“Cage?”

He’d almost forgotten Bianca was there; her fingers traced over his arm.

“I’m really sorry, I just heard someone coming at me, and it’s dark and…”

And she took his ass out with a taser.

Who Heather Long?

USA Today bestselling author, Heather Long, likes long walks in the park, science fiction, superheroes, Marines, and men who aren’t douche bags. Her books are filled with heroes and heroines tangled in romance as hot as Texas summertime.

From paranormal historical westerns to contemporary military romance, Heather might switch genres, but one thing is true in all of her stories—her characters drive the books. When she’s not wrangling her menagerie of animals, she devotes her time to family and friends she considers family.

She believes if you like your heroes so real you could lick the grit off their chest, and your heroines so likable, you’re sure you’ve been friends with women just like them, you’ll enjoy her worlds as much as she does.

Heather is best known for her 18-book paranormal romance series Wolves of Willow Bend, which begins:

Prequel: Wolf at Law
1: Wolf Bite
2: Caged Wolf
3: Wolf Claim
3.5: Wolf Next Door
4: Rogue Wolf
5: Bayou Wolf
6: Untamed Wolf

Heather’s other fantasy romance series include the paranormal westerns Fevered Hearts starting with Marshal of Hel Dorado, Black Hill Wolves which start with What a Wolf Wants, Witches of Mane Street, Mongrels, and the forthcoming Bravo Team WOLF series.

Her contemporary romance series include: Always a Marine, Going Royal, Elite Warriors, The Love Thieves, beginning with Catch Me and Lone Star Leathernecks, beginning with Semper Fi Cowboy.

Heather is well-represented in fantasy wither her superhero series Boomers, a sci-fi western called Space Cowboy Survival Guide, an urban fantasy series called the Chance Monroe Adventures, and a stand-alone ghost novel titled Haunt Me.

Contact Details:

Website: http://www.heatherlong.net
Email:heather@heatherlong.net
Bookbub:  https://www.bookbub.com/profile/heather-long
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Heather-Long/e/B002BMBCUC/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/HeatherLongAuthor
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/HVLong
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/iKxQ5

Thank you, Delilah for having me! I brought along a special Scottish prize, too!

So what do you get when you combine a secret agency dedicated to changing history back to the way it was, and an agent who has the ability to calm people along with the power to travel through time, and a medieval Highland laird?

On Highland Time, of course!

Authors get their inspiration from many places and for me it has always started with classic literature. In this case, it was Sir Walter Scott’s narrative poem, The Lady of the Lake. Though the poem takes place later than my story, it gave me the idea to have someone infiltrate a clan in disguise, since the King in Scott’s poem does just that only to fall for the lady.

After that a number of “what ifs” occurred such as what if the person disguised was a lady who falls for the laird, and what if she was a time traveler, and what if she was there to change history back to the way it was when the laird had died, and…you get the picture. It’s just the way my mind works.

Of course, since I write romance, there had to be a relationship and a happily ever after, but it wasn’t easy with this story. There were a lot of forces at play against that happening. I do enjoy time travel stories, but I like my heroines to have control. Diana Montgomery can control her time travel, but she still has to make a brutal decision — save mankind’s future or save the man she loves. Not quite the decision the Lady of the Lake had to make, but close.

On Highland Time

For fans of sexy Scottish Highlanders who know how to treat a woman like a lady.

When someone changes history, affecting the future, Diana Montgomery, the most experienced agent of Time Weavers, Inc., travels back to 1306 Scotland to change it back. Her mission, to find the culprit and ensure a minor clan chief dies in battle as he originally had.

Diana is well-prepared to infiltrate the small MacPherson clan. What she’s not prepared for is Torr MacPherson, the ruggedly handsome warrior with a kind heart and a steadfast loyalty—the Laird she’s supposed to ensure dies.

On Highland Time Buy Links:
Amazon|Barnes & Noble| iBooks| Kobo

Excerpt:

Torr appeared to grow larger before her eyes. He straightened to his full height and looked down at her, his eyes hard. “I was protecting my king and what is mine.”

She swallowed, his stare clearly indicating he considered her his. She broke eye contact and looked past him to find the two men, Beth, Braigh, and Mairi watching them. Once again, she was the center of attention. Not the right place for a TWI agent.

Medieval. She needed to think like a medieval woman. What would Mairi do in this case? Actually, the poor woman might very well faint.

Though it rubbed her all ways but the right way, she kept her gaze lowered. “I’m sorry that helping Ian angered you. I will refrain from doing so again.”

She heard Torr sigh. “That is not what upset me.”

Daring to look at him, she hoped her gaze wasn’t too direct. “Then why were you angry?”

He folded his arms across his chest, usually a common defensive gesture, but one she had begun to believe was his thinking stance. “I did not like seeing ye in the arms of another.”

That was blunt and to the point. “But aren’t you in the arms of another woman every few nights?”

He looked away and dropped his arms before quickly changing the subject. “I believe food awaits us.”

“So it does.” She let her irritation spill into her tone of voice. His double standard grated on her nerves, but that was according to her own time. She had to stop letting him get to her. Crouching down, she picked up her shoes and walked barefoot to the blanket, completely ignoring the hulk strolling beside her.

When she sat on the blanket, Douglas caught her eye and shook his head.

Oh, go have dinner with Medusa! She took a deep breath to regain some balance.

Torr lowered his large body next to her. Holding out his hand, he offered her a chunk of bread and a square of cheese. Reluctantly, she accepted it. Crossing her legs beneath her, she took a bite. The sharp cheese woke her taste buds and refocused her thoughts.

He didn’t say a word as he ate his mutton and bread.

She appreciated the silence and the food, casting furtive glances at him. The man would definitely be considered “eye candy” in her age. Broad shoulders with large muscles in his arms, developed pectorals, and abs women sighed over. While she had only seen a glimpse of his thighs, she could tell by the bulge of his calves that they, too, would be solid strength. He was no cover model with his crooked nose, red-tinged hair, and pure maleness, but he was striking in his own way. Even more than his giant build, there was a purpose to him that forewarned he was a force to be reckoned with. She just couldn’t see him dying in battle.

“Here.” Torr held out a wooden cup.

She tentatively took a sip to find it was water. It enhanced the aftertaste of the cheese, one of the few food items she found palatable. She handed the cup back. “Thank you.”

His large hand covered hers but didn’t let go. She looked up at him. His deep blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “Ye have no need to fear me, lass.”

Maybe not physically, but definitely emotionally. She liked this big, kind-hearted man, far too much. His feelings for her, though only interest and lust, were not good. Better to keep him at arm’s length. She grinned. “I know.”

His brow rose and arrogance revealed itself once again. “Ye do? Well then, ye also know my bed is waiting for you.”

She swallowed the thrill of excitement that ran through her chest and instead focused on her modern irritation over his lifestyle. Though she tempered it, she wasn’t above a little sarcasm. “Which night?”

He scowled, his face taking on harsh lines.

Holy Hamlet, he looked mean when he did that.

“Lass, you test my patience.”

“Laird, you test mine.” She raised her chin just a fraction.

He scowled harder. Then his face relaxed, and he chuckled. “I think ye will fit into this clan very well.”

The idea of being a welcome part of the clan scared the hell out of her. Since her parents’ death, she’d created her own clan, so to speak. She couldn’t become attached to another, especially not in 1306. She needed to put distance between herself and this laird.

About the Author

Lexi Post is a New York Times and USA Today best-selling author of romance inspired by the classics. She spent years in higher education taking and teaching courses about the classical literature she loved. From Edgar Allan Poe’s short story “The Masque of the Red Death” to Tolstoy’s War and Peace, she’s read, studied, and taught wonderful classics.

But Lexi’s first love is romance novels so she married her two first loves, romance and the classics. From hot paranormals to sizzling cowboys to hunks from out of this world, Lexi provides a sensuous experience with a “whole lotta story.”

Lexi is living her own happily ever after with her husband and her cat in Florida. She makes her own ice cream every weekend, loves bright colors, and you will never see her without a hat.

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