by

Her Pirate Adventure — a novella

Thoroughly disappointed with her expensive cruise ship vacation, Burgess Carter has one night left to find the adventure she craves. She looks up from her dinner at a seaside restaurant to see someone who might make her dreams come true. A man stands at the prow of his sailing sloop as it glides up to a nearby pier. A man like she’s never seen before, tall, dark, gorgeous and maybe a pirate. A man she absolutely has to meet.

Morgan Rand has a lot on his mind. Tomorrow will be the last day of a massive project that he and his crew have been working on for months. With any luck, he’s about to become incredibly rich. He’s nervous, exhilarated and exhausted, but not too far gone to catch the stare of an enchanting female watching him from the deck railing of his favorite restaurant. Good thing he plans to eat there. He’ll make his move on this intriguing lady and discover if she’s up for his dare.

What happens when Burgess decides to stow away and see if this pirate is real? When he decides to blow up her entire concept of adventure?

Delicious story! Amazon Smashwords

EXCERPT:

 “Umm.” Burgess was having the most incredible dream. Big rough hands caressed her breasts. A warm mouth suckled the tight nipples and kissed the hollow of her throat. “Oh,” she moaned.

If only dreams could be real. This one felt perfect.  Heat radiated from his skin. He smelled of bay rum and salty air.

“Are you awake?”

A generous deep voice rumbled in her ear, so incredibly masculine. She arched toward him, urging the dream to continue. His hand slid down her belly, brushed over her damp center, then traced a light circle around her stiff clitoris sending gooseflesh down her legs.

“Oh, please,” she moaned.

The sound of his chuckle startled her awake. Light from the galley met her barely opened eyes. A dark room. A man.

She stiffened. “Oh! My god, what …”

“I assume this means you’re awake now.”

That voice. Her eyes flew open. One of his hands remained between her legs. The other lingered on her breast, gently teasing her aching nipple and sending electrifying sensations down her stomach. He loomed over her in the shadows, sitting beside her on the bed. Faint light outlined his broad shoulders.

“Did you get lost on the way to your hotel?”

Oh, God, it was him. She swallowed.

“I, uh, just—wanted to meet you,” she stammered.

“Enchanting way to get acquainted,” he said, still circling her rigid clitoris with his finger. Heat spiraled low in her belly and burned up to her cheeks.

“I thought it was a dream,” she whispered. “Ohh…”

“All real,” he said. “Including the fact that you’re trespassing on private property. What do you think I should do with a naked stowaway?”

Was he going to stop? What he said concerned her but just barely. Briefly, she worried what he meant to do. But the pressure of his touch intensified and her thighs clenched. She might die if he stopped now. As if he knew her thought, he slipped a finger down her slick crease and slid inside her.

“Ohhh. I don’t know.” She groaned. So close. Her body felt poised at the edge of a cliff. “Wha—Whatever you want. Just… please… don’t stop.”

“So wet,” he muttered, stroking in and out.

She couldn’t help the movement of her hips in response. He lowered his mouth to her nipple, sucking hard as his finger pushed inside. His hand moved in the most incredible way, delving inside her to tease for a few strokes then circling her clit until she throbbed at the brink of orgasm. Then sliding back inside.

An intense burn spread through her belly and hips. The last remnant of thought escaped her. Close, so close, to something amazing. Something life changing. Every fragment of her consciousness centered on his touch, on the incredible sensations spiraling out from his hands.

Two big fingers drove inside as his palm crushed against her clitoris.

“Ohhh!”

Her hips thrust up as an explosive orgasm shattered through her. She grabbed his neck, his shoulders as sparks flew against her eyelids. He rode her through it, easing out with slow strokes and gently shocking brushes over her pulsing clit.

Soaking Pirate by Iyakoo on DeviantArt
by

A Gift for Jarrod

With everything she cared about gone, Dominatrix Macie Fitzgerald has built a new life in service to those in need. A special kind of need. But when she sees Jarrod’s name on the list of applicants to her next training session, she isn’t sure she can handle it.

Everything has been too easy for Jarrod Bancroft—rich parents, football star, law degree, high powered job, women by the score. He wants whatever Stonybrook Academy can dish out, much as it scares the hell out of him. Can he handle the pain, the humiliation, the unending deprivation that Madam requires? And why does her voice sound familiar?

Unfortunately for Macie, the years that have passed since Jarrod was her student have done nothing but make him more magnificent in every way. She faces her biggest challenge as she struggles to fulfill her professional obligation to give Jarrod what he wants. What he needs.

Ebook novella

$2.99 Amazon

$1.99 Smashwords (FREE Dec 15-Jan 1)

by

The Captive (excerpt)

880 AD

Near Lichfield, England

“Dane, do you know why you were brought here?”

Elspeth, Lady of Hystead, gathered her thick red skirts and sat on the curved stool at the side of the room, opposite the spot where the broad-shouldered man stood. Her hungry gaze drank in the powerful strength of his legs, the ripple of muscle in his chest and arms, the iron line of his jaw. Even wounded, even smeared with the grit and gore of battle, his body glistened with male vigor.

Candlelight reflected off the lime-washed walls and framed the warrior’s furious stare. He strained against the bonds holding his wrists behind him and stretched the short length of rope between his ankles. Animal skins covered the stone-paved floor under his feet, one of few luxuries in the humble room with its bed, brazier of hot coals, and side table.

She turned to the two armed men who’d brought him. “Go now and bar the door until I call.”

The Dane’s angry string of foreign words followed the men as they departed. Elspeth heard the bar fall into place with a heavy thump.

Pale blue eyes flashed toward her, defiant.

“What of our language do you know, Dane? Can you speak?”

“I know enough,” he snarled, his words heavily accented. “What is your intent, woman?”

“My name is Elspeth, and it pleases me to see you.” His anger excited her, although she tried not to reveal any hint of her swelling desire. She sipped from her cup of ale. “Will you drink?”

His tongue slid over the crease of his narrow lips, but he gave no answer.

“You must be thirsty.” She poured another cup from the ewer and carried it to his mouth, tilting it forward.

He drank deeply. The line of his jaw slackened slightly, and she remained beside him, more intrigued than ever by his bristling strangeness. The grime of battle still coated his face and arms, but elsewhere his body had been covered with clothing and armor, now mostly removed, so that he stood in rough pants that hung from his hips. Blood smeared from cuts on his arms and hands did not disguise the inked design scrolling over his tanned arms. A section of his yellow-white hair clumped against his scalp in a dried, darkened mass while the rest fell in tangles around his shoulders.

“Are all your kind so beautiful?” she asked quietly, trailing her fingertip across his chest. His nipples lay flat on the domed pectoral muscles and more ink patterned a fantastical beast between them. Hardly a hair curled there, although lower on his abdomen a faint line of darker hair collected downward to disappear at the waist of his pants. Her gaze lingered there briefly as her pulse quickened.

He made no answer, but inhaled as her finger stroked over one of the nipples. His posture shifted slightly.

“Is this beast meant to say something about you?” she asked, fingering the tattoo.

“It honors the gods,” he grumbled.

“Have your gods served you well today?”

He did not answer.

~~~

Grab your copy of this collection today! Great summer reading! Amazon Smashwords

by

Reckoning! Free Dec 15-17

Reformed terrorist Josh Carter only wants to cherish the woman of his dreams, but her scientific study of the metastasizing brown death syndrome is her first responsibility. Neither of them could have guessed the formidable foe who stands in their way. 

Josh Carter knows what he wants and that’s Anne Norris, Anne with her flyaway blonde hair and pale blue eyes that make him think of angels. Anne with her intense intelligence that has landed her in a top-ranked master’s degree program where she can prove her theories and help save the world from the plague of carbon infection. But he’s not good enough for her and he knows it. He’ll make do with what he can get, serving her sexual needs and providing support as best he can. It’s all he deserves.

Anne can’t wait to start her studies at UCSC, the golden opportunity of a lifetime. But once she arrives, the program can’t seem to get off the ground. The more she pushes, the firmer the resistance. Josh Carter, well, he’s a great companion and he’s there for her when she needs him, but her work demands her full attention. Too much is at stake for her to listen to his precautions – until it’s too late and she finds herself in more trouble than she had ever imagined.

Don’t miss the exciting unexpected ending of the House of Rae series!

Free Dec 15, 16, 17 ONLY

Amazon

Excerpt:

Her gaze shifted away from him and she frowned. He turned to look through the doorway into the other room. Anne was standing by the table with Etheridge leaning over her shoulder, brushing her hair back and whispering.

“He’s such a jerk,” Tess said.

Josh hardly heard her. Without consciously deciding to move, he found himself striding across the room. He reached Etheridge and grabbed his arm, whirling him away from Anne.

“I’ll have a word with you,” he growled, holding his face close to Etheridge, so close he could smell his overpowering cologne and the fumes of whiskey. “Now.”

“What the… Who the fuck are you?”

The man’s speech slurred as he jerked his arm away from Josh.

“I’m someone you desperately need to talk to,” Josh said between clenched teeth. “Otherwise you’re going to have a terrible accident.”

He took a tighter grip on Etheridge’s arm, steadily propelling him toward the door onto the now deserted deck. Other than a brief stumble over the threshold, Etheridge moved along as Josh pushed him.

“How do you know?”

“How do I know you’re going to have an accident?” Josh shoved him into the shadows by the railing. “Because I’m going to cause it. I’m going to punch your ugly face and make your nose bleed then I’m going to slam you against the wall and pound your gut until you lose your dinner.” Josh glanced around to make sure no one could hear him. “Then – I don’t know, I might lose control of myself and actually kill you with my bare hands.”

The man’s face had lost color and his eyes bugged wide. “Are you insane? Who the hell are you? If you touch me…” He looked down and ripped his arm away from Josh. “How did you get in here? Do you know who I am? I’ll call the police.”

“I’ll tell you who I am and you better not forget it. Next time I see you touching Anne, even get close enough to breathe on her, I won’t give you any warning.”

Etheridge narrowed his eyes. He huffed. “Anne’s big bad boyfriend, huh.” He looked Josh up and down and waved his hand as if shooing a fly. “You’re not good enough for her.”

Josh seized Etheridge’s flailing hand and squeezed until he felt tendons pop. “I’m a thousand times better than you. Don’t forget. I’ll be watching.”

“Josh?” Anne’s tentative voice penetrated his fury.

Was he making a scene? Hell yes. “Yeah?”

“Hey, there you are.” Anne stood in the doorway, her cheeks flushed. “I lost you.”

“Your Dr. Etheridge and I have been chatting about boundaries.”

“Really?” Anne released a short nervous laugh as she hugged up next to Josh.  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you with that gabfest out there.”

“No problem.” He put his arm around Anne and hugged her close. He tried not to react as Etheridge sidled away and careened back inside.

“What was that?”

“Just a little chat.”

“He’s drunk,” Anne said. “But yeah, he’s a creep. What did you say?”

“Just guy talk. I told him if he touched you again, I’d kill him.”

She inhaled sharply, a shocked look on her face. But then she cut her eyes, smiling at him then looking at Tess who had also appeared in the doorway. “Great guy,” she enthused.

“I see that,” Tess replied dryly.

He cleared his throat as his cheeks heated. “Okay, enough.”

The three of them ambled back into the main room where the intense discussions had broken up into several small clusters of conversation scattered around the room. Etheridge was nowhere to be seen. Josh thought he might have found it necessary to visit the toilet to scrape out his underwear. He took some pleasure in that idea.

Anne pressed her body against him. “Hungry for you,” she whispered.

He grinned and grabbed her arm. “I’m past ready.”

by

Denial! Free…3 days only!

Martin Bernard has spent his life becoming one of the world’s wealthiest and most powerful men. But that’s not helping him now that his criminal son-in-law Ned Argenta has gone rogue, putting Martin’s empire on the block in order for Martin to ensure his daughter Marie’s safety. Weeks, months fly by as Martin tries to control this nightmare, leaving his lover Mohana in the sidelines. He just wants to get control of things and then he’ll make it up to her.

Mohana James isn’t waiting any longer. At her friend Giselle’s urging, she visits the Paris House of Rae to find some pleasure. The pleasure partner there doesn’t disappoint, but the entire experience stirs up her grief about Martin. Is he ever going to call? Should she forget him? If she does hear from him, is she going to slap him and walk away? She’s pretty sure that’s all he deserves. But her heart is breaking and she’s not sure she can forget him.

Heartbreak? Will a one-time paid lover make her feel better?

Find out! Buy now at Amazon – FREE Dec 13-15 only

Excerpt:

Mo noticed that the attendants were men, three of them, and dear God they were beautifully dressed in well-tailored jackets, waistcoats, and white cravats in a style of the Regency period beau monde. Had there ever been a time when men had dressed in a more flagrantly masculine style? She gawked then caught herself, turning to the massive arrangement of fresh flowers on the table next to her chair. Roses in shades of pink formed the heart of the array, mingled with pale green hydrangea and cream colored stock. Beauty, everywhere she looked.

Shortly after, a man approached. She’d been staring at her hands, fighting her fear, and only noticed him when she saw his legs. Her gaze slowly lifted, taking in the tight fit of fawn-colored breeches over strong thighs and the notable bulge at his groin. A thrill shot through her before embarrassment overwhelmed her. Swiftly shifting her gaze up to his face, she found no relief from the heat scorching her cheeks as she met his amused expression.

Christ, he was gorgeous, dark expressive eyes watching her as his cruelly sensual mouth curled in a smile. He bowed, shocking her with a mocking lift of his eyebrow.

“Mademoiselle,” he said. “Bonjour. I am Henri, here to serve you. Shall we?” He waited while her mind stumbled through a thousand refusals, excuses, and worries. Finally, she placed her hand in his. He helped her stand then lifted his elbow, waiting for her to accompany him.

She licked her lips, searching for a suitable reply. She didn’t have to reply.

“Yes, merci,” she said stiffly, placing her hand on his forearm. How odd, this sampling of a former time when gentlemen served ladies in exactly such a manner. But of course it wasn’t the same. Now it was the woman who determined the partner, the time, and the nature of the exchange.

All she could think as they entered the elevator then walked down a hallway was how stunning he was with his powerful masculine physique. His dark blue cutaway coat fit him like a glove, the seams straining to enclose his wide shoulders and broad chest. A gold satin waistcoat fit snugly across his lean stomach. His high white cravat brushed his clean-shaven jawline and covered his neck, making her hungry to see the line of his throat.

All of it was silly, this entire charade of play-acting another time, an amusement for women with sufficient fortunes to pay the price not to mention sufficient brass to contemplate such an encounter. As he entered a keypad code to the door where he’d led her, she took a deep breath, fighting panic and a renewed urge to run.

“Cherie, let me ease your mind,” Henri said, his voice a rich baritone that sent chills down her arms. “I am here to serve you. Whatever desires you have named, I will fulfill them. And some perhaps, that you did not name, oui?” He winked, his lips twitching with another curbed smile.

He motioned her into the room and closed the heavy door behind them before guiding her further into the room. From the far wall, muted sunlight filtered through sheer white curtains framed on either side by heavy dark gold drapes. An enormous bed with mounds of pillows and pristine white bedding perched high off the floor, its massive corner posts and headboard of dark wood. Lush carved rugs in shades of pale gold lay on either side of the bed while a sitting area around yet another rug included a settee and chairs of dark wood and gold upholstery. A large oil painting hung over a small regal fireplace featuring a nude man and woman entangled in each other amid a mass of sheets.

Mo was afraid to move. Even if she wanted to move, she didn’t know whether to just rip off her clothes and fling herself onto the bed, or wait for some instruction. Or what. She chewed her lip, aware that her hands were perspiring. Hell, she was probably perspiring all over.

How seductive, she thought bitterly. This had been a truly stupid idea.

“May I?” Henri said, taking her purse from her sweaty grip and placing in on a small table by the door.

“Oh, yes, of course,” she said, hardly aware of what words came out of her mouth.

“You are nervous,” he said softly, coming behind her to grip her shoulders with big warm hands. “I will help you relax.”

“Oh, but…”

He nuzzled her neck, holding her long dark hair to the side as he kissed under her ear. She shivered. Would she enjoy this? Or would the entire experience end up haunting her with humiliation for the rest of her life?

She stepped away from him and turned, her hands tightly clasped against her stomach. “I have never done this before,” she said in a hoarse voice. “I’m too old, I think. I should leave.”

“Too old?” Crinkles appeared at the sides of his eyes as he smiled. “Who told you that? You are perfect. Beautiful, in the full blossom of your life.” He touched her cheek then the corner of her mouth. Each spot he touched burned and tingled. “I will make you smile, ma cherie. If you will let me.”

“I – I don’t know…”

“Come. Sit with me for a moment.”

He led her to the settee then walked to a nearby chiffonier where he splashed some amber liquid into a small stemmed glass.

“This will help,” he said, handing her the glass then sitting beside her. His scent came to her, a whiff of cedarwood and perhaps a hint of lavender, but underlying that wafted a fragrance that surely was Henri alone, musky and pungent in ways that caused heat to curl down her belly.

Well, that was unexpected. Her mind stumbled for something to say. Her hand shook as she lifted the glass to her lips. The liquid rolled over her tongue and burned a path to her stomach. Sherry, one of the best she’d ever tasted. She took another bigger sip, savoring.

He brought up irrelevant subjects, whether it would rain, the latest movies. A short time later, after she had drained the glass, he took it and set it aside, then lifted her hand to kiss her palm. Little tingles of excitement raced to her stomach. She could only stare at his golden skin and long fingers, nicely manicured nails cut square and blunt.

“I’m sorry, I’m just…”

“Hush now,” he said, placing a finger on her lips. “You are wonderfully desirable. Your lips are lush, begging for my kiss.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers, leaving little kisses at either corner of her mouth.

by

Reprieve! Free! 3 days only…

House of Rae franchisee Marie Argenta is on the run after her estranged husband Ned inflicts unimaginable tortures. Leaving her Paris House to hide out in the U.S., she ends up at the San Francisco House to serve as temporary manager. The very first day, her gaze lands on the most arrogant man she has ever seen, Adrian Velasquez. He’s also the most compelling devastatingly attractive, over-the-top pleasure partner the universe could ever conjure, which  makes her think twice about the rules forbidding employee relationships.

Adrian knows what he likes and this new House manager Marie ranks above and beyond anything he’s ever imagined. Too bad his life is already crammed too full of family troubles, work overload, and finishing his law degree to even consider stretching the rules with this irritating woman. But a touch here, a kiss there, might be too delicious to refuse and she’s, well, she wants him. He knows it.

What Marie and Adrian are soon to discover is that Ned knows where Marie has fled and plans to take her back no matter what.

West Coast life like you’ve never imagined! Take luxurious surroundings, drop in a few gorgeous men, and stir. Don’t forget there’s serious trouble ahead.

Buy now! Amazon Free promotion Dec 7, 8, and 9 ONLY

** Reviews Needed! ** Please take a moment and review this book!

Excerpt:

Adrian lounged in the hallway outside the ground floor conference room. If it were his call, he’d bring everyone to the room at once throwing out ideas and arguing over word choice. But it wasn’t his call and Marie obviously preferred to take advice from one person at a time. He stopped himself from further questioning her reasoning. He didn’t want to think about her reasoning, her, or her luscious body.

Damn it.

He’d found it unexpectedly difficult to craft language that surpassed hers. He’d actually wasted a lot of time thinking up clever ways to make her uncomfortable with over-the-top sexual innuendo. Which wasn’t the purpose of the task, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He wanted to provoke her, push her limits, test her control. Any opening and he would storm past her walls.

Ridiculous, he knew. Storming her walls was the last thing that should be on his mind. She set something loose in him, something he’d never encountered in all his thirty years. Not carefully calculating his hours, his days, his future as had been his pattern. Instead, this doppelganger lurking inside him plotted devious methods that would result in Marie’s eager nude body in his bed.

He shifted uncomfortably as his cock twitched.

The door opened and Savannah walked out, throwing him an amused glance. “Hey, sex boy. You’re next.”

He shook his head and grinned. “Tear it up, Savannah.”

He rolled his shoulder around the door frame, crossed his arms and looked down the long table to where Marie sat at the far end. Surrounded by papers she was organizing into stacks, she glanced up only momentarily before motioning to a nearby chair. Her hair had been fastened loosely on top of her head but a few strands had worked loose, drifting around her face and doing something outrageous with her beauty. A gauzy pink blouse floated around her shoulders and vanished into the shadow of her sumptuous décolletage. He was instantly hard as iron.

Did she know the image she presented, part sex goddess, part ice queen? He had no doubt of her intellect, whip smart and aggressive. He also had no doubt that she would be a wild cat in bed, a tempest of little moans and cries, all of which would ensure his undying servitude to her unending pleasure. Yes, in a perfect world, he would devote himself utterly to Marie, to fulfilling her every sexual need in long leisurely episodes of rampant lust.

His balls had drawn up tight.

As he pulled out the chair nearest her and sat carefully, her gaze followed the bulge straining his pants until his hips disappeared under the table. He watched her reaction, a careful flick of her tongue against her full bottom lip and a slight flush of pink across her cheeks. Goddamn it, that’s all he needed for his rowdy dick to threaten to leap out of his pants.

“Whatever this game is you are playing, monsieur, it will go nowhere,” she said in a husky voice. “Surely you know I cannot entangle myself with an employee.”

He cleared his throat, fighting against laughter. Triumphant laughter. So the cards were on the table.

“Of course,” he said in his most dignified voice. “But I don’t know what ‘game’ you mean. I’m here only to offer advice on the advertisement.”

Her long lashes blinked up and her aquamarine gaze intensified as she studied him, her brow creased. Oh, he could make that gaze darken and smooth that lovely brow all in the same moment. Just one moment to bare her lovely breasts, taste the dark pink nipples—she would call his name. He would draw those rosy tips hard against his tongue until she cried out.

Then he would move lower, teasing with little kisses and bites, until he reached the altar of her body, that delicious valley of moist ruddy flesh where he would live off her delectable nectar. His tongue, his mouth, and his fingers would perform ancient rites of homage until she flailed and cried out, desperate for his engorged cock.

He suppressed a groan, couldn’t help that his glance had drifted to those luscious mounds waiting for him under that flimsy pink blouse. Was it his imagination or could he actually make out the erect peaks of those perfect tits pressing their captivity, begging him?

She brought her papers into a neat stack and looked up. “When you manage to tear your eyes away from ma poitrine, perhaps we can hear your ideas? S’il vous plait?”

He dragged his gaze back to her face, unable to keep the guilty grin off his face. “Ma poitrine,” he drawled. “Is that what they call those lovelies in French?” He leaned forward, as much to punish the rigid length of his raging cock as to push the boundaries of her personal space. He knew he was acting like an ass, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. His outrageous alter ego was in full control.

“It’s a shame their beauty must be hidden from the world.”

“Pah, you are not here to seduce a client, Monsieur Velasquez.” She tapped a perfectly manicured fingernail on the papers. “What ideas do you have?”

by

Salvation! and it’s free… (two days only)

Rae Stewart, whose mid-21st century sex houses for women have become a worldwide phenomenon, has a problem. His name is Lucas, and he is her second in command – among other things she’d rather not think about. His green-eyed potent appeal sits like a burr under her saddle especially when he tries to override her decision about a new hire, Josh Carter, who – she admits – violates all the House security protocols. She wants Josh anyway – he’s young, gorgeous, and carries exactly the kind of explosive masculine arrogance that House clientele adore.

Lucas Haverson also has a problem – how to keep Rae from endangering herself and her enterprise. He’s ready to walk away, leave Rae and their embattled relationship behind him. Forget his regular clients who depend on his intimate services and park his life in a remote cabin somewhere far away from this constant aggravation. Just a few more days and he’ll have the Homeland Security investigation he needs to expose young Carter for what he is – a terrorist.

But what if he’s not?

First in a four-book series, Salvation races into a future world where women’s sex houses offer unexpected pleasures. And unexpected dangers.

5 star reviews: “I loved every minute of it!” “Great Read! I enjoyed this book so much!” “Beautifully written!” “A very well crafted page turner!”

Order now! Amazon FREE Dec 1-3 only

EXCERPT:

A quiet tap hit the doorframe. “Lu? Can I come in?”

Rae. He hesitated a split second. He didn’t need this, whatever she was up to. He sighed, flipped on the light, and held the door open without a greeting. She grazed past his chest as she walked in, her unmistakable scent drifting behind her. Damn it. Whatever she was going to say, he already knew he wouldn’t like it.

Her hair was down, probably meaning she’d come as an afterthought. The loose caftan she wore didn’t define much of her body, but in his mind, he could see everything under it. Her full breasts. The curve of her waist and hip. Those fabulously long legs and the beautifully moist flesh between them.

Her gaze surveyed his bare chest as heat came into her eyes. Just that, and his goddamn cock sprang to attention. He pulled out a second chair at the table. “Whiskey?” He didn’t wait for a response but took another glass down from the cabinet, retrieved his from the sink, and poured a jot into both glasses.

“Long night,” he said, handing her the glass then easing into his chair.

“You look tired.”

“Thanks.”

“I don’t mean it like that, just, you know…” She took a sip and grimaced.

Nadine made repeated passes against Rae’s leg, reminding Lu that there was something about Rae the cat liked, even after all this time. Nadine never came out for other visitors.

“So…Deshawn tells me you’ve been down there talking about Josh Carter.”

“Yep.”

“Any particular reason?”

He stared at her. “As in, the security warning wasn’t enough?”

Her eyes blazed. “We already talked about this.”

“As a matter of fact, yes, we did.”

“And?” Her voice rose along with a pink flush in her cheeks.

“And?” His hands clenched, resisting the urge to haul her up against him and kiss her senseless. “And I felt it in the interest of the House and its personnel that your security chief beef up security until we’ve had enough time to see if this guy is as harmless as you think.”

“Well, I’d already asked Deshawn to do that so your efforts are redundant. And FYI, you’ll have a least a week to relax, because I’m leaving for Albuquerque in the morning. Frank thinks the contracts are in jeopardy because of the New Orleans incident,” she said, her eyes glittering defiantly. “He thought it would be good to meet personally with the buyers.”

“Sounds like a great little trip. What security is going?”

“None. I’m not stuffing security up my nose on this trip. I need a break.” She spun the glass then let it sit. “Maybe have a little fun. I’m taking Josh.”

He threw the rest of the whiskey down his throat and carefully set the glass on the table as her words washed through him. “Why is that Rae? Isn’t your life complicated enough? Do you truly not understand the risk?”

Predictably, her chin lifted, and he couldn’t help noticing fine lines creasing her throat. It wasn’t what he wanted to see. Maybe it was the fucking light making her look old. He’d never thought about her getting old. But shit, if he was feeling the tick of the clock, she had to be getting there, too. Her blue eyes shot fire as she stared at him. That was Rae, hot and ready to fight.

He had to admire her strength, even if she took stupid risks. Nobody needed that kid on this trip. Except Rae, of course. Rae and her unending need for conquest. Or whatever it was.

“What fucking risk?” She spread her hands on the table. “I’m satisfied he’s not a terrorist. Will you get over it? What’s he going to do?”

His temper boiled over. “What about everything else?” he shouted. “The new hit list. New Orleans. Does any of this add up for you?”

She slammed her glass down, splashing whiskey over her hand and onto the table. “Lu, I’m not here to get permission. I’m not going to be a fucking prisoner in my own house. The sons of bitches have no idea where I’ll be from one day to the next.”

She stood up with an angry jerk, stalked to the sink, and grabbed a paper towel. “I just need to get on the highway and watch the miles slip by. I need it, Lu.” She shoved the towel under the glass and cleaned the spill. She stood there with the crumpled towel in her hands, her body rigid in anger. “I have my gun. I know how to use it. Okay?”

“No!” He jumped up, knocking his chair over backwards as he stalked toward her. “Not okay. You’re being stupid. Stubborn. Why? Is it about fighting with me, like you have to have total control?”

“Ha! Only you would come up with that.” She leaned toward him, her face flushed. “It’s not about you, Lu. I know that’s a concept you might find difficult to understand. And I’m not Sara, okay?”

He felt the blood drain from his head. A roar started in his ears. “How dare you bring Sara into this?” His words came out strained.

“She’s always in it, Lu. You carry her around like some kind of fucking armor.”

“Really? Then what is this?”

He grabbed Rae’s arms, dragging her against him and crushing her lips under his as she squirmed to get away from him. “Did you forget about this? Is Sara in this?”

She cursed him, jerking her mouth away, but he took her again, his tongue pushing for an opening, forcing its way into her mouth. He stroked the velvet of her tongue in long slow thrusts.

He shuddered as his body responded to the feel of her soft breasts pressed against his chest. She softened, melding to his form. A quiet moan—his? Hers?

by

Those Boys!

Cannon Company series plunges straight to the heart of America in both setting (St. Louis and rural Ozarks) and in character. As cousins raised like brothers, these two men work hard to continue the successful construction/contracting business established by their fathers. Maybe not so successful are their affairs of the heart, especially when they find themselves up front and personal with the kinky side of things.

Dan takes the first story by storm, wading into a rural homestead for a woman he never met. She’s submissive. He doesn’t even know what that means, but he quickly figures out that nothing pleases him more than a naked woman kneeling at his feet.

Alex is the unpredictable one, artistic and intelligent and not quite sure what to do with a woman who wants to call all the shots.

And what about their old friend and right hand businessman, Randy Hammond? He’s running from his past, but so is the woman he can’t get out of his mind.

Reeling from their unexpected entanglements with women on the wild side, the three men face turning points in their lives.

A perfect holiday trifecta for your reading pleasure. Available at Amazon and Smashwords

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Halloween! a short story

The book fell, quite literally, into Emily’s hands. Bound in blackened ancient leather, the slim volume included a title visible more from the indentation on the leather than by surviving lettering. Spells and Incantations, it said.

Then the man appeared.

She had no idea.

Edgy experience in a spellbound night! Well worth the price at $0.99 Amazon Smashwords

EXCERPT:

The party was one of those open air events at somebody’s farm where crowds of people milled around a bonfire or hovered at one of the keg stations. She felt horribly self-conscious in the extravagant dress. Heads turned as she walked from the parking area and kept turning no matter where she went. She cringed as she caught people looking at her, expecting that at any moment, someone would come out with some cutting remark and everyone within earshot would laugh.

No. She would not let herself cower. She looked good in this dress. In fact, she wasn’t sure she had ever looked better. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. Besides, she was wearing a mask.

“Glad we ate in town,” Sarah said, her voice rising over the music blasting from big speakers. A local band had set up on a makeshift stage area and cranked out hard rock. A few people danced. Food on two long tables included a massive array of chip bags, mostly empty dip containers, and a few scraped-clean casserole dishes.

“Yeah,” Emily said. “I’m not hungry anyway. How long to do you want to stay?”

Sarah glanced at her, her blue eyes wide with excitement. “Are you kidding? It’s Halloween. We have to stay until midnight. That’s when the witches come out.”

“That’s a kid’s game,” Emily said, smiling at memories of leaping out from behind bushes at her screaming little friends and siblings. “What’s the point?”

Sarah shrugged and tossed the red boa over her shoulder. “I just think we should. Who knows, maybe your Prince Charming will show up. If he sees you in that dress…” Her eyes shot up as she ogled Emily’s cleavage. “Jesus, girl, that’s sexy as fuck.”

Emily blushed, resisting the urge to grab the two sides of the neckline and pull it together. Where was the bravado she was feeling just moments ago? “I feel naked.”

“Yeah, well the dress is perfect. Did you see that guy over there? He can’t take his eyes off you.” Sarah grabbed her arm. “No, hell, don’t look. Let him make his move.”

“Excuse me,” a deep and somewhat familiar baritone voice said.

Emily jumped and turned. A man with dark hair stood beside her, appearing as if out of thin air. She glanced at Sarah, whose eyes inside her glittering red mask had widened even more as her gaze riveted on the man.

He wore a long black cape which only emphasized his masculine stature. His other garments also were black except for an elaborate vest with bizarre geometric markings that seemed to glow in the dark and move of their own accord in the reflected light of the bonfire. Faintly, she wondered if he found the vest in the same vintage shop.

His mouth reminded her of the man today in the bookstore. Her startled gaze returned to his face where a teasing smile lingered along his sensual lips. If the black mask covering his upper face were gone, would he…

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Captives of Desire — a short story collection

Rape, pillage, plunder. Those were the bywords of life in the British Isles from the time of the Romans in 50 AD until the Norman invasion in 1066. Captives of Desire includes stories drawn from each phase of these invasions, women who in one way or another found themselves caught up by men of conquering armies, women who met such invaders with courage, fear, and not a small amount of pleasure. One woman, one man, the blood of battle forgotten… worlds meshed and new generations sprang up from true love.

Five works of historical fiction in one tidy bundle! Buy at Amazon or Smashwords

Excerpt: TRIGGER WARNING Dubious Consent

The latch on the heavy cottage door rattled. Nefyn’s neck hair rose. She turned from her churning, thinking of the other villagers who, like her, had lingered in spite of the threat. Were they all caught off guard? Her ears strained. No shouts of warning rang out. But she knew the invading Saxons sometimes emerged from the forest like silent ghosts.

Another rattle, and the door yielded to his shoulder. His eyes, black as winter night, locked with hers. His round shield bore the image of a red dragon and a longsword glinted in his fist. Blood roared in her ears as she stood momentarily paralyzed in fear.

How foolish she’d been to wait! Loath to remove the last of their belongings from the home of her family, she’d clung to the comfortable place where her children were born, where her beloved Bedwyr might return for a brief time and she could touch his face and know that he still lived. One more day, she promised herself, before she burdened the cow with bundles of bedclothes and meager portions of foodstuffs and drove the beast up into the mountains to join the others.

Too late. Her heart pounded in her ears in the brief moments she surveyed his dangerous presence.

Luminous morning mist layered through the greening valley, and against that brightness, this man’s tall form loomed dark in the opening. Supple leather marked with dents and scrapes of battle clad his broad chest and girded loins. A baldric ornamented with gold medallions draped from his muscled shoulder, a gold torque encircled his neck. Every inch of him bristled with menacing strength. After an instant frozen in his stare, Nefyn dropped the plunger into the half-churned butter and turned for her escape.

The whole of southern Britain bled. Whatever the people did, however fiercely their strong men fought, the Saxons kept coming. By land, by sea, the horde of invaders drove west through the forests beyond the standing stones. Women, children, old and young died on their long knives and brutal axes. The ruthless bastards torched homes, barns screaming with precious livestock, whole villages.

Weary and scarred, the brave men of Briton stood to fight. They marched, fought, won, lost, fell back, regrouped, marched again. The rest of the people—families, villages, the old and infirm—fled before the invaders like hares from burning fields.

Clearly she had tempted fate too long. This morning, postponing her departure yet another day, she had set a fresh stew over the fire pit and turned to her tasks. Yet something of the day already pricked her nerves, whether the heat of summer or the long quiet wait for news. A premonition, she knew now.

His long sword and heavy shield clattered to the worn boards of the table and in two steps, his strong hands seized her, locking her breath in her lungs. Gooseflesh raced up her arms as he pulled her back against him. She felt his arousal hard against her buttocks as his iron muscled arms captured her waist and hips. In moments, he had torn away the cloak fastened at her shoulder and ripped open her linen robe, exposing her breasts to air.

“I mean to have you,” his dark voice rasped at her ear. “In every way.”

Shudders of trepidation plunged from her dry throat to her quivering belly. She swallowed, unable to form words as his rough hands bruised over her sensitive skin. The flesh of her breasts burned under his touch and swelled against his palms. Her body’s quick compliance enraged her.

“Mercy,” she gasped, struggling to free herself.

“No mercy,” he growled, yanking at the lower parts of her garments.

His fingers plowed into the thick curls between her thighs as she fought. She swallowed roughly, afraid to cry out.

“You resist,” he said, whispering in her ear as he fingered her. “But a man is what you need.”

His scarred fingers strummed the moist crevice, pausing over the stiff pleasure knot to circle and press until her hips responded in involuntary thrusts. One big finger slid inside, and she moaned.

“Oh! No, please.”

“Yes, sweet flower,” he muttered. “Cry for me.”

The width of his hand spread her legs. His fingers stroked inside her, teasing out the growing tide of fluids, thumbing over the stiffened morsel so that Nefyn jerked and begged. Lunged and twisting, she grappled with his arm that clasped her tight against his hard chest. He held with iron strength, his hot breath gusting against her ear.

With a growl, he shoved her forward over the table and threw her skirt up and over her back. One hand gripped her hair, causing her eyes to leak tears. As he squeezed her buttocks, his thumb found her center, drew her moisture as he spread her open. She heard the shift of his clothing as his baldric fell aside, and then the hard knob of his hot cockhead probed between her trembling legs.

“Oh, please!” she cried.

“Quiet, woman,” he grunted in a hoarse voice. “I will have you.”

He shoved hard and drew in sharp breath as he entered her. Thick and long, his rigid organ drove deep into her belly. With her waist in the firm grip of his hands, she steeled herself to his plundering as he drew back for another thrust.