Jessica Depre’s life is in tatters. She’s on the run, thanks to her abusive husband Robert, who needs to silence her about his criminal escapades and the part he forced her to play in them. When bounty hunter Drake Adams walks into the boarding house where she works, Jessica slips away into the night. Her only hope of surviving and protecting those she loves from her husband’s rage is to vanish forever.
Unable to accept that the only woman he ever loved left him standing at the altar and married another, Drake Adams has given up a good law practice in the Wyoming Territory. If he’s not hunting down bounties, he’s pursuing the bottom of a bottle of bourbon. When Drake learns his former fiancée, Jessica Majors-Depre, has a price on her head, he decides he will collect the reward.
Can the bounty hunter and the bank robber ignite a future from the ashes of their past when they are trapped by a blizzard in a mountain shack or will playing with fire burn them both?
I’m a hybrid, in that I’m published both traditionally and I’m self-publishing. I wrote my first published novel while working on the critical introduction of my creative project for my master’s degree. It wasn’t the most perfect timing but my Muse isn’t the most cooperative, either. She dropped Colt and Amelia into my head and insisted I write their story. So, I tried to reason with Her. Yeah…that wasn’t going to work either. In between writing pages of that critical intro, I kept a second document open and wrote their story.
All of my published novels are western historical romances. My traditionally published romances are set in/around a little town called Federal, in the Wyoming Territory. Federal was actually a town at one time and it still shows up on the state maps handed out by the Tourism Commission in Wyoming. However, Federal isn’t even a wide spot in the road anymore. Other than a small wooden sign denoting “Federal” on a spur of the Burlington-Northern Railroad line, there isn’t much left of Federal.
I love this period of our nation’s history. The national psyche was recovering and healing in the aftermath of the American Civil War and the westward expansion helped to heal that psyche. The research I’ve had to do with each novel makes the history geek in me totally giddy. Those weren’t survival skills I was learning. I was researching how my characters would have lived.
When I’m not writing, I show those Collies I first fell in love with as a child. I’ve bred or co-bred more than thirty champions. I also make beaded “bling” leads to sell to help support my dog show addiction/habit. Dog shows are the reason I don’t have too many vices–I can’t afford another habit.
Allison Webster dreams of having an adventure like the characters in the books she loves. But there is no romance in being pursued by a man who wants her dead for educating the children of former slaves. Unlike the heroines she reads about she doesn’t have a trusty companion to rescue her…until she literally runs into A.J. Adams, a former Confederate cavalry officer. Now, she just has to convince A.J. he really is the honorable man and hero depicted in the dime novel she is reading.
Branded a “traitor” for more than ten years, scarred by harsh treatment in an inhumane prisoner of war camp, A.J. Adams wants revenge. Allison Webster’s arrival into his life provides the bait to destroy the men who murdered his wife and daughters and kidnapped his little brother. The men pursuing Allison are the very same men he has sworn to kill. Falling in love and admitting he might actually be a hero means surrendering his need for vengeance. Surrender is not part of A.J.’s battle strategy
I received this book from the author for an honest review.
I love Historical books, but I have never tried a Western Historical and jumped when given the chance. I mean you will never know until you try I right??
This book was interesting in that it interweaves real life history with a made-up hero and heroine. We get to read about the Civil War while also having the author embellish stories to go with the history of the time.
We meet Allison as she is about to miss her train. She is on the run from some bad men when a not so polite gentleman pulls her onto the train she is chasing after. The two spend some tie together in an inappropriate way given she is a single woman without a chaperone.
AJ is stunned by the beauty he pulled in to his cargo railcar, but he can’t look at her. Since his wife Cathy has passed he can’t get over everything especially the guilt that he is why she is gone.
The two ends up running for some bad guys when Allison’s past is spilled. As the two are running they slowly discover the attraction they have plus the few stolen kisses makes it impossible to walk away from the other….especially after the tub scene. That was one of the funniest parts of the book. AJ was pretty determined, and Allison was not about to be tempted. The following meal conversation about his planned seduction was funny too. Allison is no wallflower like she claims and pretty much tells AJ the way it is and isn’t going to be. Gotta love a strong woman!!! When she tells him “It’s not sleeping that gets people into trouble. It’s what happens when they’re awake!” so cracked me up!! But then when AJ offers us his whole heart…. “Allison, I have nothing to offer you other then myself. I am offering you my whole heart, all my love, and my unswerving loyalty.” I did kinda swoon bit. How the heck do you NOT!!!
I liked that both characters had secret and both characters had some of the same enemies and how it all intertwined together.
Once upon a time there was a little girl who said when she grew up, she was going to have dogs like Lassie, own horses, and live on a ranch just like the Ponderosa. Two out of three isn’t bad. If she can’t live on a ranch, Lynda J Cox writes about characters who do. She writes steamy westerns, what one reviewer called an authentic blend of Old West action and happily ever after romance.
Her favorite authors are Leigh Greenwood and LaVyrle Spencer.
Former reality star, housewife Kendall Swanson, has it all. A luxury high-rise condo in Los Angeles, an expensive convertible and her job is personal assistant to television’s hottest producer. What more could a girl want? Certainly not what her boss asked of her. Go back to her small town, and for his next reality TV sensation, find the ultimate single cowboy to host the ranch “makeovers”. Faster than you can say “stuffed turkey” it’s goodbye palm trees, hello Kerrville, AKA Hell, and yes, it’s frozen over. At least on her parent’s front lawn. How bad could the holidays with her family be? Other than the reindeer in the house and Deacon Cutes being back in town.
Deacon Cutes wasn’t expecting Kendall to blow into town in an over-priced car and designer handbag. He should’ve known she’d be back, he was here for the same reason. The only reason anyone returned to the small town was for weddings, funerals and the occasional holiday. One wedding, one after party and he’d be back on the road singing country songs to star crazed fans—make that after thirty days of community service for a minor infraction.
Wait, did the reindeer just talk? Time to lay off the sauce and not the cranberry kind.
“Who wants carrot cake?” The church organist offered up happily, having been excluded from the proverbial bomb dropped in the living room.
Fritz reared, his body bumping both Sadie and Kendall. The cake went up and Kendall fell back. Deacon reached out to stop her fall but instead with the momentum both went over. The cake landed as the tree crashed to the floor with a scatter of ornaments and tinsel. Garland landed on Kendall’s face. Her soft curves sandwiched between the fallen Christmas tree and Deacon’s body.
He’d be a liar to say he hadn’t pictured himself on top of her. However, no clothes and no audience had also been part of that erotic image. He removed the garland from her and stared down into her eyes. From where he was laying, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize their bodies fit together perfectly. His groin stirred as his chest experienced her breasts coming against him hard with the shallow breaths leaving her lungs.
A flicker of anger crossed her features and she gritted her teeth. “Considering the tree is under me,” she whispered in seething temper. “I highly doubt that is a branch poking into my hip.”
Of all the comments and of all the girls he could have been in the situation with, he couldn’t think of one he’d rather be pressed against. The scent of her became damn near intoxicating and it took every ounce of strength not to kiss her senseless. He leaned in close to her ear and purposely blew warm breath against her skin. “It’s not a branch, baby, but most definitely wood.”
She hissed and struggled to get up slapping him lightly, which induced him to laugh. “I hate you, Deacon!”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born and raised in Las Vegas, Nevada, I still call Sin City home. I’ve always been a sucker for romance novels and movies, especially romantic comedies. Writing is more than just words to me it’s captivating slices of characters’ lives and sharing them with the reader. I’m a firm believer that heroes and heroines had a life before page one of any story and their past as well as life experiences, made them who they are.
Coming from the southwest I have a major soft spot for cowboys, but also love suspense, a bit of intrigue and kick-ass heroines. Of course, there is always the time to slip in a good paranormal. I try to keep my writing diverse and always on the naughty side.
Texas born, Nash Walker hasn’t met a challenge yet that his southern charm, and cowboy diligence couldn’t tackle. From graduating top of his class to creating a world-class team of historical restoration specialists, or the recent purchase of a neglected grand dame plantation deep in Louisiana Bayou country.
But when the tenacious and beautiful, Scottish-born parapsychologist, Dr Somer Ingler crosses his path in the throes of investigating his new home for paranormal activity, she brings a whole host of challenges from her strange ghostly friends to the powerful whirlwind she creates inside of him.
Determined to resolve the plantations mysterious past, they find themselves mirroring the passion of past lovers, caught in a raging storm of desire and deceit, leaving them in the end…thunderstruck!
He blew out a breath and offered a congenial smile, along with the truth. “I have to confess, Doc, I don’t believe in ghosts and all that mumbo-jumbo.” He crooked his fingers for emphasis. “I mean, yes, I know there are stories. But in my experience, the majority are just stories that you tell around a campfire on Halloween.” He hated to sound like a condescending ass, but he felt she should know where he stood.
“If you’re finished?” She handed him a mini-video camcorder. “Turn on the night-vision button and you should be able to see everything quite clearly in the dark.”
“But I just said…”
She tucked a small transistor-looking device in her pocket and held a miniature walkie-talkie in her hand. She jabbed a small flashlight in her mouth as she zipped up her hoodie.
Nash thought his heart might stop altogether at the sight of her perfect pink lips enclosed over the end of the flashlight.
He blinked as she jerked the flashlight out of her mouth and pointed it at him. “Mr. Walker, please understand. Your inability—your refusal, even—to believe in the existence of the paranormal has no bearing whatsoever on whether it exists or not. They don’t need your permission.” She shook the light at him. “In my world, in my experiences, paranormal activity certainly does exist.” She strode to the door and opened it. “Now, shall we go? All I ask is that you follow me and keep the camera running. Do you think you can manage that?”
Nash chuckled. Glasses and bossy. Could this get any better? He sure as hell hoped it would. He trotted down the steps after her, quietly humming the tune of the movie that brought ghost hunting back to life, so to speak. He was about to sing the chorus when she stopped suddenly and spun to face him. He lifted the camera, avoiding disaster as his body slammed into hers.
She pressed up on her toes, pushing her face into his. “One more wise-crack, Mr. Walker, and I may have to use my magic to put a spell on your dick.”
“Sorry.” He smiled. Little did she know she already had.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Amanda McIntyre’s passion is telling character-driven stories with a penchant for placing ordinary people placed in extraordinary situations.
A bestselling author, her work is published internationally in print, E-book, and audio. She writes sizzling contemporary and erotic historical romance and believes no matter what, love will find a way.
Rose McAlister was always the perfect daughter and student, but it was never enough for her high society family. Tired of the big city spotlight, Rose accepts a teaching job at the most remote location hiring – in the middle of the prairie in South Dakota. This was her chance for adventure, her opportunity to shine as an educator, and her shot at forgetting the ex-boyfriend who left her heart torn to pieces and her bank account in shambles. In South Dakota, Rose vows she’ll find someone to love and trust.
Seth Peterson is a wanderer. Not surprising since he didn’t know where he was going or where he came from. When a beautiful, flower-tattooed woman enters his life claiming to be from the future, he doesn’t know which is crazier: her, or the fact that he is falling in love and wanting to put down roots. Before he can decide if it’s best to follow his aimless path or to obey his heart, women are being stabbed to death in town and it looks like Rose might be next on the killer’s list. Can this new love survive not only the slash of steel, but also the test of time?
Excerpt: “You don’t believe me, do you?”
“Nope.” The guy sure stayed in character well. That’s for sure. Her teeth rattled with the bounce of the trot.
“Stop.” Rose screamed and the horse halted.
“You may be used to riding around on a horse but my legs are about rubbed raw and all this bouncing is going to shake a tooth loose.” She hated to complain but the stress of not knowing where she was, and Peterson’s insistence that he lived in the 1800’s was starting to get on her nerves. “Plus you’re freaking me out with this old west stuff. How far are we from Harvest?”
He pointed in the distance. “You can just see the edge of town.” Peterson clicked his mouth and Kadoka started toward town.
Relief and despair hit at the same time. She was glad to see Harvest but hated to admit her time with Seth Peterson, if that was his real name, was ending soon. Rose circled her arms around his waist and held on tight. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and her heart skipped a beat. With her luck, some member of the school board would probably be the first person they ran into. That’s all she needed.
A gasp escaped her lips as the town got larger with every step of the horse’s hooves. It was like a movie set. Everyone was dressed in old fashion attire just like him. There were horses and wagons and no signs of the twenty first century anywhere. This couldn’t be Harvest. Even with the heat, she was chilled.
“Don’t worry, I won’t leave you alone.” His reassurance both frightened and comforted her.
“Why is everyone starring at us?” Her arms hugged him tighter.
“Because you’re half naked.” His husky laugh made her tingle.
“What? I am not.” Feminine giggling caught her attention and she looked up at a group of colorful ladies lounging on a deck above. “But those ladies have less on than I do.”
“That’s a whorehouse.” He released her hands from around his waist as they stopped in front of a light green building. The overhead sign proclaimed it Brink’s Dry Goods and General Store. “Let me do the talking. I don’t want anyone thinking you’re crazy. I’ll see if anyone has found your horse.” His voice low so only she could hear.
“I told you I don’t have a horse, I’m looking for my car,” she whispered back.
“That’s exactly what I mean. You start flapping your mouth about cars and a cell with a phone, whatever the hell that is, not to mention claiming Hickok being dead.” He flung his leg across the horse’s neck and jumped down. “They’ll be wanting to lock you up for the night.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ginger Ring is an eclectic, hat-loving Midwestern girl with a weakness for cheese, dark chocolate, and the Green Bay Packers. She loves reading, playing with her cats, watching great movies, and has a quirky sense of humor. Publishing a book has been a lifelong dream of hers and she is excited to share her romantic stories with you. Her heroines are classy, sassy and in search of love anFacebookd adventure. When Ginger isn’t tracking down old gangster haunts or stopping at historical landmarks, you can find her on the backwaters of the Mississippi River fishing with her husband.
He finally found his soul mate, only to see her violently murdered. All in a dream. Sometimes it’s hell to be a psychic. Mataus Montoya has a mission. Find the woman of his dreams, and change her destiny.
Cara “Mo” Konklin runs Mighty Mo’s, a program for underprivileged children, on her ranch in Prairieville, Louisiana. The former soldier has no time for love and no belief in psychic mumbo jumbo, but when fate throws an abused child in her path, literally. And the crazy psychic’s predictions all come true, including the one that he is the other half of her soul. What is a sensible soldier to do?
Together, Mo and Mataus must protect the child in her care and fight the unknown evil that stalks her in the darkness. Mataus sensed his love, but will his gift be enough to save her or will fortune steal their happily ever after?
The first rays of the morning sun filtered through the curtains and fell on the beauty that lay beside Mataus.
Bathed in the light she glistened like an angel, her blonde tresses a golden halo surrounding alabaster skin, so soft and smooth it begged for his touch. Pale blonde lashes caressed her cheeks in sleep and her plump pink lips were slightly parted. Mataus leaned down to brush his lips to hers, but before he could taste the sweetness of her mouth he found himself standing in the dark. He was in the country. The smell of hay and horses permeated the air. No moon lit the sky, only a sprinkling of stars. In the faint light he could make out the shape of a barn and a house in the distance, fenced pastures and a gravel drive.
Mataus walked along the gravel road toward the house. A sense of foreboding clawed at his aura. As he grew closer, the outline of a large truck parked in the driveway came into view. A shadow crept around the vehicle.
Evil, a hatred so pure it almost brought him to his knees shot to his mind. An explosion. Flames. A maniacal laugh.
Mataus woke with a start. Sweat drenched his body. For three nights now he had dreamed of the angel in his bed, but this was the first time he had sensed danger surrounding her. Fuck! He threw the covers off and sat on the edge of the bed, swiping his hands down his face.
He needed a shower to think. Heaving himself off the bed he staggered to the bathroom and turned the spray on as hot as he could stand it. As the pounding water eased his taut muscles flashes of his dream ran through his head. He closed his eyes and the woman appeared in front of him, so vibrant and real, he wanted to reach out and touch her. In his heart, he knew she was the key. The missing essence that would blend with his aura and complete his soul.
Switching off the water, Mataus scrubbed a towel over his skin and walked to the sink. Naked, he ran the electric razor over his face, brushing his teeth at the same time. A heavy swipe of deodorant, to combat the New Orleans heat, then a splash of cologne and he was set for the day.
Sauntering into the bedroom he threw on a pair of well-worn jeans and a T-shirt that said, You’re never too old to have invisible friends. Barefoot, he headed for the kitchen and some chicory coffee and a beignet.
As soon as Mataus had a little caffeine in his system he knew what he needed to do. He had to call his cousin Harley.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
My best friend calls me “her Fairy Godmother,” but I feel more like Cinderella. After over twenty-five years of living a typical life, I now live my dreams and I create them too.
Nothing is better than creating a brand new world from a blank piece of paper. Breathing life into characters and watching their stories unfold—I am truly blessed.
I live in on eight acres in middle Tennessee with my husband, my dad, one of my three children, two dogs and three cats. I am privileged to have two precious grandsons.
When I’m not on my computer or reading my kindle, you’ll usually find me in the kitchen. I love to cook! If I’m not there, I’m on the fields, watching my grandsons’ soccer or baseball games.
It’s never too late to chase your dreams. I’m proof you can catch them, even if arthritis slows you down. Who knows, your own Fairy Godmother may be just a dream away.
Brooke Winslow fought the demons alone, until a cowboy changed everything…
Brooke Winslow had the life she wanted until a car accident changed everything. People called her “lucky” because she survived, but luck was the last thing she felt when other lives were lost. Guilt plagued her and she hit rock bottom, not wanting to live, no longer wanting to face the images of that fateful night. Who would ever understand? Who would ever accept her secrets?
Tuff McCoy wasn’t a stranger to tragedy. He gained guardianship of his siblings after their parents passed away. He quit the rodeo and moved to Kerrville, Texas to work on Tebow Ranch with his distant cousins, the McCoy brothers, to provide a stable family life. Things started to come together, his brother and sister were smiling again, until the house they live in fell into the hands of a different owner. Will they have to move? How will he put his family through change again?
However, the new landlady wasn’t so bad…
In fact, if she’d just open up things might get pretty hot down on the farm. But Tuff is learning, letting go is a lot to ask.
So this was what Tuff McCoy looked like up close. Darn, she wished she could find fault in the tiny expression lines around his eyes, or the thick ungroomed brows, or the laugh lines that surrounded his lips—nice, plump lips that were now parted in a killer smile. Neither said anything, until finally… “Sorry, ma’am. Hope I didn’t startle you too much.” The gritty Texas twang made secret parts of her come alive like dancing fireflies. What the hell was wrong with her? Hoping that her voice would work and truly wishing she could inconspicuously pop a Tic Tac, she finally said, “No…I-I was just, well, thinking.” It wasn’t the best answer, and the cracking in her voice sucked, but at least she managed to get her tongue to form words and her brain to function. Oh hells bells. He was going to think she was a freak. She sighed. He’d find out soon enough that it was the truth. Being socially awkward and a recluse didn’t make her stand out for all the right reasons. This was either the change she needed, or she was bound to go up in smoke like a nuclear bomb.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Rhonda Lee Carver is a published book writer with a collection of print and eBooks under her wing. She is also a freelance editor. Her first book was published with Wild Rose Press in 2010. She writes everything from contemporary to steamy to paranormal to suspense…you name it, she’s written it. Her specialty is writing men who love to get their hands dirty—hardworking, blue collar, heroes in everyday life. When Rhonda isn’t crafting edge-of-your-seat, sizzling novels, you’ll find her with her children and husband watching soccer, watching a breathtaking movie, traveling to exotic places (with Bora Bora on her bucket list), doing (or trying) yoga, saving cats and dogs, and finding new ways to keep life interesting. Rhonda thrives on making her readers happy. She believes life can be a challenge, but reading is a place where fantasy comes to life. Her motto: “Everyone deserves romance—one page at a time.“
Sasha, once known as Sissy in her former life at The Shady Lady brothel. She wasn’t only looking for a new name, but a new life.
Friends Isaac and Avery McCoy not only helped her get an apartment but also a job—one she needed desperately to take care of herself…and her child.
Bull locked eyes on her the moment he walked into Hardbodies. Wanting her instantly. The curvy little blonde not only had a body that had him craving sin, but her spitfire attitude ‘bout did him in.
There’s something about Sasha besides his body’s reaction to her. A bit of mystery, a story there, a secret…and he intends to know everything there is to know about the sassy pale skinned beauty.
If only Bull can convince her to let him in…besides her bed.
He’s former military, a patch holder in a motorcycle club for chrissake, certainly he can handle a little thing like her. Right?
‘Don’t Mess With the Bull’ is a crossover story from
The IGNITION INFANTRY MC Heir Saga
by Billy Storm (Sidda Lee Rain).
In the Ignition Infantry…
Love comes FAST!
Love comes HARD!
Love come KINKY!
And, so do these bikers.
“Isaac is with the beer distributor but I’d be happy to get you a drink.” Looking up at her. “Wouldja now?” Maybe I sink a little deeper into my Texas drawl but women tended to mop it up like sausage gravy to a biscuit. Her blush was adorable. “Well, yeah it’s kinda my job.” she retorted with cloying sweetness. I chuckle. “I suppose it is.” She leans forward resting her elbows on the high table where I sit. “What’s your poison?” My eyes take in the deep line of her cleavage that was practically being served to me on a tray. Snapping her fingers in my face. “Those aren’t being served on or off the rocks.” “Shame.” ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Social media whore, beard aficionado, pickle lover, hair dye junkie, and all around pleasant yet distasteful kinda broad…oh, and she’s totally BATMAN.
Known for her rebel attitude
International Bestselling Author Sidda Lee Rain/Billy Storm
makes it clear she’s here to stay and write the way she wants.
Far from perfect characters…
Far from perfect love stories…
But in the end? Love is found oh so perfectly.
Jasmine Grey is an up and coming country rock star, just completing a successful tour opening for a top country rock group. If only her bass player, Cobra, would leave her alone. When he attacks her the last night of the tour she is so shaken she retreats from everything and buys a home in the Texas Hill Country. She is still spooked, however, by memories of Cobra and his vows of vengeance. Her cousin, Libby McCoy, Aron’s wife, insists she needs protection. Enter Caleb Branam, former Delta Force now an agent for The Omega Team.
Caleb took himself off the active roster after a hostage rescue went wrong and members of his team were killed, but Aron manages to persuade him to take on the job of Jasmine’s bodyguard. As the days go by and she is writing music for her new album, the attraction between them grows more and more intense. When she returns to the road and Cobra begins his campaign of harassment, it will be up to Caleb to stop it for good and for both of them to realize what they feel for each other is the real deal. But will they be able to?
“I have unusual hearing. I had to strain a little, but it was nice listening to you.”
“Careful, Caleb.” She giggled. “I think you just gave me a compliment.”
He almost got that closed-up look on his face again. Almost.
“I can say nice things when the moment arises.”
“Yes, you can.” In fact, his compliment made her feel positively giddy. “And thank you very much.” Then something he said clicked in her brain. “Have you been listening to my other music?”
He dropped his gaze to his plate. “I might have downloaded a track or two,” he mumbled.
“Why, Caleb Branam. Thank you so much. I’m flattered.”
“Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head.” He bit into his hamburger, killing any further exchange of words.
Jasmine swallowed her smile and dug into her hamburger. By the time they finished eating and he’d had one beer to her two, she was a little mellow but still excited. She could feel it in her blood. These songs were good. Maybe the best she’d ever done. She couldn’t wait until they hit the studio tomorrow and she heard the guys play the tunes.
On the way home, she leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes, and hummed the tune she’d just finished that afternoon. She couldn’t wait to get into rehearsals tomorrow. She was so busy thinking about it all she didn’t realize they’d pulled into her driveway until the truck stopped.
“Oh!” She opened her eyes. “We’re here.”
“Yep. Have nice snooze?”
“I wasn’t sleeping,” she denied. “I was just imagining my music.”
“Okay. Let’s imagine it inside.”
In the house, she dropped her keys on the counter, put her purse next to them, and whirled around with her arms in the air. She was just so jazzed, just as she always was when she completed new songs. She wished she could soar through the air. She paid little attention to her actions until she lost her balance and stumbled into Caleb. He wrapped his arms around her to catch her, and every pulse point in her body began to thunder like a herd of elephants.
Jasmine wrapped her arms around his neck to balance herself and found herself staring into dark eyes that seemed to see right inside her. He cupped his palm to her head to hold it steady and pressed his mouth to hers. His lips were cool and firm, yet, at the contact, heat flooded her body. The tip of his tongue traced the closed seam of her mouth, and when he added pressure, she opened for him without thinking.
And practically detonated right there. His tongue scorched the inside of her mouth, coaxing her own tongue to dance with his. Everything faded away, leaving only the two of them and a kiss that trumped any she had ever had in her life. It went on and on, stealing her breath and making her nipples harden and her pussy tingle. She held on for dear life as the world spun around her.
Then, with the same suddenness, he broke the contact and lowered her to her feet. She stared at him through glazed eyes, trying to make her brain function again.
“What is the right word.” He took two steps back, putting distance between them. “I’m sorry. That was a mistake”
Jasmine licked her lips, the taste of him still lingering there as she struggled to get her breathing under control. “It didn’t feel like a mistake to me.”
Shut up, Jasmine. You know it was a mistake. Wrong guy, wrong time.
“Trust me, it is.” He had rearranged his features into his perfected expressionless mask again.
“Listen,” he interrupted. “There is no but. I haven’t kissed anyone in more than a year, and this is not the place to start.” He took another step backward. “This can’t happen. We have a business arrangement requiring my entire focus. And the last thing I need in my life is some kind of entanglement here.”
Known the world over as the oldest living author of erotic romance, and referred to by USA Today as the Nora Roberts of erotic romance, Desiree Holt is three times a finalist for an EPIC E-Book Award (and a winner in 2014), a nominee for a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award, winner of the first 5 Heart Sweetheart of the Year Award at The Romance Studio as well as twice a CAPA Award winner for best BDSM book of the year, and winner of the Holt Medallion for Excellence in Romance Literature. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today, The (London) Daily Mail, The New Delhi Times and numerous other national and international publications.
“Desiree Holt is the most amazing erotica author of our time and each story is more fulfilling then the last.” (Romance Junkies)
Lola’s life is filled with mysteries. Why did her parents abandon her as a baby? What’s behind the baffling blackouts she suffers and the frightening images she creates while she’s out? Who is the strange woman claiming to hold the answers – and why does she say Lola has a life or death mission to perform?
Morgan has a few mysteries of his own. What was his father going to give him on the day he died, the gift he said would change Morgan’s life? Who is this bewitching woman who passes out upon meeting him and creates pictures of his past and future?
And was she really sent to save his life or is she in need of psychiatric help?
All they both know is that from the moment they meet a bond is formed and it is stronger and more passionate than anything either has ever known. And that fate has brought them together for a very important reason.
If only they knew what it was..
Chris slid off his stool, signaling to the bartender to bring his beer to a booth across from the door. He and Morgan claimed the booth. He propped his elbows on the table. “So give. What’s up?”
Morgan sighed and slumped against the wooden back of the booth, his fingers twirling the untouched bottle of beer. “Today’s my dad’s birthday.”
“How long’s he been dead?” Chris asked.
“Since my twelfth birthday,” Morgan replied, feeling a twinge of anxiety talking about it.
“Fuck, man, he died on your birthday? That sucks. What happened? Heart attack?”
“He died trying to save a baby from a wrecked camper.”
Chris looked away, clearly uncomfortable at the sudden welling of tears in Morgan’s eyes. Morgan swiped his hand over his face and pushed himself up straight. No way was he going to blubber in a bar in front of his friend.
“He was a hero,” Chris said quietly.
Morgan nodded. Maybe he was. Only he hadn’t saved anyone. Not only had he died with the baby in his arms, the mother had died as well. So in the end, he’d given his life for nothing. Morgan supposed that was what cut so deep. If either of the people had lived then at least his father’s heroics would have been for something. As it was, it was a waste of a life, leaving Morgan’s mother without a husband and him without a father.
And, Morgan suspected, leaving him with something he’d never known how to deal with. Three days after his father’s death, something had happened to Morgan. Something he could not explain, or understand. And something that still scared him.
“Well, hey now.” Chris’ voice drew his attention away from his own fears and demons. Chris nodded in the direction of the door. “Isn’t that Kelly?”
Morgan cut his eyes over at the door. It looked like the same woman, but he wasn’t sure. He guessed she hadn’t made that big of an impression on him. Certainly not as big as the one she’d made on Chris.
She looked up and caught him and Chris watching. “Oops,” Chris mumbled and threw up his hand in greeting with a welcoming smile.
Morgan nodded but made no move to invite her and her friend, who stood behind her blocked from sight, over to their booth. He didn’t have to. Chris was already on his feet headed in their direction.
With a curse, Morgan pushed the beer away from him, looking in the direction Chris had gone. Chris had one hand on the Kelly’s arm at the elbow, leading her toward their booth. The second woman trailed behind.
“Hey, look who I found,” Chris announced. “Kelly, you remember Morgan?”
“Yeah, hey, Morgan.” Kelly’s greeting was not all that warm. That didn’t surprise Morgan. He had said he’d call her.
“Have a seat,” Chris offered and slid in across from Morgan.
Kelly looked from him to Morgan, and then slid in beside Chris. Morgan slid over as the second woman stepped closer. He looked up and suddenly the lights dimmed. Or his vision dimmed. Something dimmed because his peripheral vision vanished. It was like looking through a tunnel. And dead in the center of that tunnel was a set of eyes from a dream.
He nearly stopped breathing. It wasn’t possible. Images flooded his mind, blinding him to reality.
She stood before the opened window, the wind blowing the flimsy fabric of her unfastened robe so that it swirled around her like light. Backlit by the moonlight from the window, she was but a silhouette of womanly curves and billowing long hair.
Slowly, she walked toward him. She stopped at the edge of the bed. He could make out her eyes, saw desire shining in their depths. His heart beat faster and his breath quickened. His dick swelled to full erection beneath the sheet.
“I’m here for you,” she whispered.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“Whatever you want it to,” she replied and sat on the bed beside him, running her hand down his sheet-covered body to his erection. “Do you want me, Morgan?”
“Then take me.”
He pulled her down to him, her long hair creating a sweet fragrant tent around their faces as her lips met his. Her taste was sweet, intoxicating. His tongue plundered her mouth, his teeth nipped at her tongue, captured her full lower lip to bite softly.
She moaned and climbed atop him. He could feel the wet heat of her sex through the sheet. It was a delicious torment, feeling her grind on him, unable to sink into her. The kiss was unending. At first passive, she became the aggressor, exploring his mouth, tasting him.
He flipped her over on her back and suddenly her face was visible to him, framed by the dark halo of her silky hair. With the light slanting across her, he beheld her beauty.
“I want you,” she whispered. “Inside me. Please.”
No further encouragement was needed. Ripping the sheet away, he parted her legs, gripping her behind each knee to spread her. She moaned as he penetrated her in one slow stroke and one of her hands worked its way down her body. Her fingers worked at the bud of her clit as he watched in lascivious fascination, pumping into her stronger and harder.
The onset of a climax threatened. He tried to slow, but she wouldn’t let him. She bucked up against him. “More, give me more.”
Reality abruptly returned when Kelly’s friend shrugged out of her jacket, turning her head to look at him as she tossed it across the back of the booth. Her face drained of color and the next thing he knew, her eyes rolled back, she went limp and hit the floor.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Happily-ever-after is something Ciana believes in with her whole heart. Love may be a bumpy road and there’s bound to be some perils along the way but in the end love should win. She tries to take that attitude into her writing and thinks that love, hope and laughter are some of the best medicine there is.
Along with books.
She loves to hear from readers and the most important thing she thinks she can ever say is – “thank you. To every reader who has spent his or her hard-earned reading dollars on a Ciana Stone book, thank you from the bottom of my heart.”