Wild and Wicked – I’m looking for THE PERFECT MAN!

Okay, I’m taking applications. I have a position to fill. I’m looking for the perfect man. When I find him, he will be one lucky son of a gun. Cause I’m going to give him things of which he could only dream! You see, I can be very, very good to a guy. I intend to treat this hero like a king.

My life is not what I want it to be. I’m lonely. I find myself talking to the dog and my bed is so damn big that I could literally throw a party in it and have room left over. And that’s a shame, cause I have an awful lot of love to give. Just piles and piles! And I’m sweet and tender and loving – and I like sex and I’m good at it! Can you sense my frustration?

First I’ll tell you what I’m offering, and then I’ll tell you what I want. And bear with me, I know my readers are mostly women, I’m practicing here.


  1. I cook, quite well. I will fix you a gourmet meal once a day – but I don’t cook breakfast. I can’t eat breakfast. I eat muffins with my coffee, bacon and eggs sorta ick me out – -  – - but, I will prepare you luscious Cajun or TexMex meals with home baked desserts. And if you’ll smile at me, I’ll sit in your lap and feed you, kissing you in between bites.
  2. I’ll buy you surprises. I love surprises and I want you to have them too. Anything from golf clubs to clothes to ‘the meat of the month’ club. (Actually that sounds like something I’d enjoy – ha!) A new car might not be too far-fetched, all depends on what kind of foot rubs you can do.
  3. I’m entertaining – a good conversationalist, I can sing and play piano – if you need to be entertained. I like to watch movies, but not reality shows. And soft porn is an option. But the main entertainment I offer is research for the novels. I’d like a volunteer to try out sex scenes and positions that I need to get just right….
  4. Sex – okay, let’s put our cards on the table. I like sex. And I offer it twice a day, maybe more including blow jobs, which I adore. Missionary is my favorite, although I will try anything and I have a breast fetish – I want your lips on mine as much as possible.
  5. Travel – I like to travel. You can help me drive my RV and research for my novels – - what shall we call you….Recreation Specialist…. Now that has possibilities.


I prefer dark haired guys. And if you have a dimple in your chin, I’ll swoon. Cowboys are encouraged to apply – I have a weakness for cowboy boots, but I also have a soft spot for tennis shoes or deck shoes. So, what I’m saying is that I won’t rule anyone out based on their background or geographical location.

I want you to be taller than me – but hey, I’m 5’3 and a pinch, so that wouldn’t be hard – near six foot would be a bonus. Eye color is unimportant as long as you’ll stare into mine.

Muscles, I like them, but I will give you every opportunity to build some through vigorous workouts in the bedroom – ha!

I like longer hair, but I will run my fingers through it no matter its length.

Sense of humor – well, that’s a must cause you’re gonna need it with me. I’m a klutz and a workaholic and I pout a little.

MUST LOVE ANIMALS, since I come with a menagerie from dogs to cats to bulls and goats.

Must want to be loved, cause I tend to get attached. Marriage is not required, but faithfulness is.


You don’t have to be real. In fact, I don’t expect you to be real. I’m going to dream you up and put you in the pages of a book. Not that I wouldn’t love for you to be someone I could hold and hug and love, but I can live with the fact you’re not really in my life as long as you’re willing to live in my dreams.

My writing is a direct product of my daydreams, so the male lead is a huge responsibility and there is an opening. Now the female role is filled – that’s me. Always. I made a huge mistake in Welcome To My World – I made her blonde! Now, I actually have someone else’s image stuck in my head and its not working. I should have never varied from my standard – which was me – waist length dark hair down to my butt, me at my thinnest, tanned, and CUTE AS A BUG!

So, if you’d spread it around. I need to fill this position ASAP. My current crush has expired, they killed him off! So, if you know of anyone you think would qualify to stand in for the McCoy cousins and other heroes of mine – please send him my way!


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Sabrina York Shares A Cowboy for Delilah—A Scorching Hot Cowboy. With a very large…Jack

Who doesn’t love a cowboy? My heroine, Delilah in my Cowboy Heat contribution, a Cowboy for Delilah. A hard boiled city lawyer, our heroine is just coming off a bad experience with a cowboy, and has sworn off the breed. But when she meets Landon McCoy, she is unprepared for the heat that slams her like a tsunami. Can he convince her to give their relationship a chance?

GAWD, I hope so.

I live in the city myself, or near one, so there aren’t a lot of cowboys around. For inspiration, I had to travel to a land far, far away where hot and horny cowpokes abound. I call this magical land… Pintrest. You can visit yourself and check out my Pintrest Cowboy page ( and while you’re there, you might find some inspiration of your own on my other pages. Happy hunting!

Here’s a little more about my steamy addition to the Heat…


A Cowboy for Delilah by Sabrina York

From the Cowboy Heat Anthology

The last thing this independent, high-powered lawyer wants is a cowboy in her life, but one steamy kiss from a sexy rancher burns her resolve to a crisp


What a disaster. Delilah glared at her rental car in helpless frustration. She hated the feeling. She was hardly a frail, fragile woman. She prided herself on the fact that she was self-sufficient and didn’t need anyone. Counting on others was, after all, a recipe for disappointment.

Hard, cold experience had taught her that.

Yet here she was. In the boondocks. In six-inch heels. With a flat tire.

Oh, she could change a fricking tire. Hell, she could rip out and refurbish a transmission. But the idiots at the wilderness rental car company hadn’t bothered to put a jack in the trunk. She was resourceful…but not that resourceful. Even if she could channel her MacGyveresque tendencies, there was nothing out on this barren plain she could use to lever her car up high enough to do the job.

So here she stood by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, in six-inch heels and without cell phone service—the epitome of a helpless woman. All she needed was slasher music and she could be the star of a horror flick.

A plume of dust blossomed on the horizon and her mood lifted. Oh, thank god. Someone was coming. No one had passed in the two hours since the blowout.

Hopefully, it wasn’t a slasher.

The plume grew. A beat-up pickup topped one rise, and then the next. The truck rolled to a stop in front of her crippled Honda.

Oh. Lovely. Her savior had a gun rack.

Delilah covered her mouth and nose as the cloud of dust caught up with the truck and engulfed her. Angie’s birthday party had better be worth all this trouble.

She plastered a smile on her face and turned to greet the Good Samaritan. At least, she hoped he was a Good Samaritan. She was quite alone on this deserted stretch of road and—

Oh god.

He unfolded himself from the cab of his truck, and her breath wedged in her throat. He was enormous. And, judging from his ratty chambray shirt, shit-kicker boots and Stetson, he was a cowboy.

She hated cowboys. Selfish, misogynistic sons of bitches. Her fake smile threatened to become a very real grimace.

He stepped closer through the lingering cloud of dust, and Delilah’s heart ker-chunked. He was gorgeous. Not only was he tall—which she really liked in a man—he was big. Broad and brawny and muscular. His face was a dream from his heavily lashed brown eyes to the intriguing dent on his chin. She had to remind herself why cowboys and city girls didn’t mix, but even that couldn’t keep her from ogling his forearms. His sleeves were rolled up, just enough to give her a glimpse of defined veins and a sprinkling of dark hair. She loved veiny forearms.

Damn. Why couldn’t he have been something other than a cowboy? Or, if he had to be a cowboy, why couldn’t he have been an old one…with Dunlap syndrome—where his belly done lapped over his belt?

“Howdy.” His voice was deep and smoky.

Delilah couldn’t appreciate the sultry timbre. Of all greetings in the universe, Howdy was her least favorite.

“Having some trouble?” He whipped off his Stetson to wipe his brow and thick black curls tumbled out.

Curls. Not fair. Why couldn’t he be bald?

Delilah cleared her throat. “Flat tire.”

He glanced at her car. A dimple exploded on his cheek.

Dimples were her kryptonite.

“Would you like me to change it for you? You do have a spare?”

Yeah. There it was. Sure he was superhot, gorgeous and sexy as hell. But his patronizing tone squelched any simmering temptation she might have been harboring.

That’s how it was with cowboys, wasn’t it? They saw all women as helpless, idiot creatures stumbling around in six-inch heels, batting their lashes and flashing their boobs and simpering.

Delilah was not a simperer. She was a fuck-you, take-no-prisoners, hard-core lawyer, who could take care of herself just fine.

But she did have a flat. And no jack. She kinda needed his help.

So she batted her lashes. “Um. I think there’s a tire thingy in the…what do you call it? Trunk?” She affected a Southern drawl and thrust out her boobage, just for good measure.

It annoyed her that he bought her act. And it kind of didn’t. The bedazzled look in his eyes was a salve to her ego. After Trevor and all. It was nice to know she could still appeal to a man. Even a redneck cowboy.

He loped over to her car—yes, loped. She tried not to stare at his ass but his jeans were tight. It was a challenge to look elsewhere. He bent to search the trunk—again, a mighty fine ass—and stood, tipping back his Stetson. His profile, against the bird’s-egg-blue backdrop of the sky, stole her breath.

“There’s no jack.”

“No what?”

He sighed and headed for his truck, pulling out an impressively fancy jack. “This,” he said, “is a jack. You use it to lift the carriage up high enough to change the tire.”

It was so sweet the way he made his voice all slow and pedantic. You know, so she could understand. Idiot woman that she was.

“Gosh. You’re smart.” She probably didn’t need to gush quite that much, but hell, she hated condescending men. Especially cowboys. But she might as well have fun with this.

He knelt and fitted the jack and started cranking. His muscles bunched, forearms bulging with each pump.

Delilah sighed, and told herself it was only a pretend sigh, but her gaze was riveted to the sight. “You are such a big, strong man.”

He flashed a grin at her.

Yeah. Of course he did. Men loved to be told how big and strong they were. She completely ignored the dimples erupting all over his bristled cheek. Did he never shave? “How can I ever repay you?”

He stilled. The glint in his eye was horrifying. Crap. Had she gone too far with her helpless female shtick? She was all alone. On a deserted highway. With an enormous Neanderthal cowboy.

When he tipped his head to the side, her trepidation vanished. He looked more like a mischievous boy than a mad rapist-slasher. “How about a kiss?”

Delilah blinked. “A…what?”

“A kiss. Just a little one.”

Her brain fogged over. And it wasn’t horror at the prospect of a strange man demanding a kiss on the side of a deserted road that muddied the waters. It was pure exhilaration at the thought of his mouth devouring hers, those arms wrapping around her, that massive chest, warm and hard as he yanked her close…

Aw hell.

Why was she always attracted to the wrong guys? She wanted a man who liked opera and dreamed of traveling to Italy. Not a guy who listened to Country and Western music, spat chew into a bean can, and whose dream of an exciting evening was a night at the local bar playing pool.

“What do you say, ma’am? One kiss, in exchange for my…services?” When she hesitated, he repeated, “A little one.”

Why she nodded, she had no clue.

Well, she knew why she nodded—because she was incapable of speech.

Why she agreed was the mystery.

Then again, he was superhot. She ached to know how he tasted…and it wasn’t as though they would ever see each other again. Besides, if things got out of hand, she had mace. And she knew how to use it.

At her assent, he sprang into action. It was astounding how quickly he changed that tire. He tossed the flat into the trunk, returned his jack to his truck and wiped his hands.

“All done.”

Her heart skittered as he stepped closer.

“Time for payment.”



“Mrs. Morgan and the Marshal” by Emma Jay A dalliance with the sexy town marshal makes a woman rancher question which she wants most, her independence or him

“Remember” by Mia Hopkins A jilted bride saddles up with the blazing-hot cowboy stripper hired for her cancelled bachelorette party

“Cowboy Downtime” by Cheyenne Blue Passion ignites at a polocrosse game in the Australian outback—she plays attack, he plays defense, and their sexy wager decides the winner

“Coming Home” by Megan Mitcham A busted-up rodeo champion finds the squirt he tormented in youth transformed into a fiery woman challenging him to become the man she deserves

“Her Captured Cowboy” by Layla Chase A lonely woman, ostracized by Colorado townspeople after years in Indian captivity, takes what she needs from a wandering cowboy

“Back Stage Pass” by Cynthia D’Alba A sexy night with a hired escort, who looks exactly like a woman’s favorite country singer, leaves her with a back stage pass and a lot of burning questions

“Unfinished Business” by Cat Johnson A class reunion gives one woman a second chance with a sultry cowboy from her past

“At the Mercy of the Cowboy” by Amber Lin A new farmhand finds rough living and an even rougher cowboy to soothe away her pain

“Cowboy Adonis” by Michael Bracken When a naked cowboy rises from a stock pond, a nature photographer’s assignment gets personal

“Denim and Lace” by Robie Madison One woman in a pair of rhinestone heels plus two sexy cowboys equals a highly combustible combination

“One Track Cowboy” by Delilah Devlin After tracking two lost hikers, a park ranger and a local rancher lose themselves to a wild passion

“Skin Deep” by Randi Alexander A pretty city girl and a scarred country cowboy discover love waits when you’re ready to look beneath the surface

“Drop Two Tears in a Bucket” by Shoshanna Evers Alone on her Montana cattle ranch after her husband divorces her, a woman finds satisfaction in the arms of the one cowboy she can’t resist

“A Cowboy for Delilah” by Sabrina York The last thing this independent, high-powered lawyer wants is a cowboy in her life, but one steamy kiss from a sexy rancher burns her resolve to a crisp

“Shall We Dance?” by Myla Jackson When a lonely woman gives private dance lessons to a shy, sexy cowboy, she stumbles on passion worth fighting for


Check out my Pintrest Page dedicated to these steamy hunks!

Visit the Cowboy Heat Blog Page

Sabrina_head_logoAbout Sabrina York

Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York is the award winning author of over 20 hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy erotic romance to scorching BDSM. Connect with her on twitter @sabrina_york, on Facebook or on Pintrest. Check out Sabrina’s books and read an excerpt on Amazon or wherever e-books are sold. Visit her webpage at to check out her books, excerpts and contests. Free Teaser Book: And don’t forget to enter to win the royal tiara!

Books by Sabrina York

A Cowboy for Delilah (Erotic Contemporary for the Cowboy Heat Anthology, Cleis Press)

Adam’s Obsession (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)

Dark Duke (Erotic Regency, Ellora’s Cave)

Brigand (Erotic Regency, Ellora’s Cave) —Coming soon

Dark Fancy (Erotic Regency, Ellora’s Cave)

Devlin’s Dare: A Tryst island Erotic Romance (Erotic Contemporary)

Dragonfly Kisses: A Tryst Island Erotic Romance (Erotic Contemporary)

Extreme Couponing (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)

Fierce (One Night Stand, Decadence Press)

Five Alarm Fire (Erotic Contemporary for the High Octane Heroes Anthology, Cleis Press)

Folly (Erotic Regency, Ellora’s Cave)

Heart of Ash: A Tryst Island Erotic Romance (Erotic Contemporary)

Lust Eternal (Erotic Fantasy, Ellora’s Cave)

Pushing Her Buttons (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)

Making Over Maris (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)

Man Hungry (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)

Rebound: A Tryst Island Erotic Romance (Erotic Contemporary, Available on Amazon)

Rebound is now available on Smashwords

Rising Green (Erotic Horror, Ellora’s Cave)

Saving Charlotte (Erotic Contemporary for the Smokin’ Hot Firemen Anthology, Cleis Press)

Smoking Holt: A Tryst Island Erotic Romance (Erotic Contemporary)

Training Tess (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)

Trickery (Erotic Contemporary with Magical Elements, Ellora’s Cave Hex Line)

Tristan’s Temptation (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)


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Naughty Nuggets

pinchofnaughty_msrHi everyone. I love finding historical whimsy to enrich a story. I thought I’d share one such bit today.

Nothing caused more social upheaval than the invention of the rubber condom in (1855).The readily available, mass produced sheath, allowed families the freedom to control the number of children they’d have.

Condoms prevented disease, pregnancy, and by extension, fewer women dying in childbirth.  It also became apparent that they could be used not only to prevent pregnancy and disease during sexual intercourse, but encouraged coupling for purposes of pleasure.

To quell these insidious ideas, the United States government passed The Comstock Act in 1873, labeling contraceptive devices and educational health-related materials to be pornographic.  Of course, condoms didn’t fall out of use. Instead, French Letters, as they were named, were avidly traded and sold illegally.

Cyrus Burke, my hero in Pinch of Naughty, keeps a supply of condoms on hand, and in this scene explains their use to his new paid companion/housekeeper.


In the bedroom, he made short work of her clothes, rendering her naked before he led her to the bed. Standing her in front of him, he sat on the edge of the mattress, ready to roll on a condom.

Cyrus prided himself on his ability to go long and hard, drawing bed sports out for hours before spilling his seed. But as he looked at Eleanor, every muscle in his body tensed. The need to shoot squeezed his nuts like a vise.

“Turn the light off—please.” The first part was a crisp demand. She added the last, softening it to a polite request as she stared at the wall above his head.

If she’d whimpered, he’d’ve let her have her way. But there she was, ready to do battle again. So we’re going to pretend you don’t want it tonight, huh?

Cyrus relaxed inch by inch, regaining his control as his sense of humor kicked in. God in heaven, he could smell her arousal, her skin was flushed with desire and her nipples stood at attention, begging to be sucked.

“Nope.” He smiled when he refused her. “I want to watch us fucking tonight.”

“You are a sinful devil.” Apparently scandalized, her gaze unlocked from the wall and shifted to his face.

“Yep,” Cyrus said and grinned. “Now that we’re clear on my character, you can put this on.” He handed her the condom.

He pulled her closer to him until she stood between his legs. Her lips parted in astonishment as her creamy skin blossomed pink. Eleanor, of the cult of pure womanhood, held the rubber in her hand and peered down at his cock.

“I-I-I… I don’t know how,” she stuttered.

“Think of my dick as a tool you’re covering.” Swear to God, he felt as long and thick as her rolling pin when he growled his instructions.

Eleanor caught her lower lip in her teeth, biting on it as she prepared to sheathe him. He brought her hand to his engorged member, wrapping her palm around his naked length before he leaned back on the mattress, thrusting upward in her grasp. “Familiarize yourself with my equipment, Eleanor.”

He kept her hand wrapped in his because she looked mutinous, ready to argue.

“This is unnecessary. You are an idiot.” She squeezed his shaft for emphasis.

He couldn’t control his grunt of pleasure.

Startled, she squeezed him again and said, “Your eyes look strange.”

No doubt they were crossed and about to roll back in his head. He released his grip when she tentatively began to explore on her own. Her fingers reached the liquid seeping from his slit and she jerked away, stroking down his bare length once before coming back to investigate his pre-cum. When she swirled her finger around his cock head and peered closer, his jaw locked tight and his toes curled.

“Cover. My. Tool,” he managed to say.


Eleanor Lacey’s husband is as dead as their sexless marriage. While she waits for the law to decide if she’s widowed or divorced, she leaves scandal in Connecticut behind and flees to Texas to begin anew. But she needs money—fast. What better way to earn her grubstake, than by cooking meals for the richest rancher in the state?

Cyrus Burke works hard for every penny he makes and prides himself on knowing where to cut costs. He doesn’t want a wife cluttering up his life. His housekeepers are good enough—round the clock employees tending his sexual appetite, too. Mrs. Lacey applies for the position and looks like a promising candidate. Delicious in fact, as smooth and creamy as a tasty tart.

When Eleanor and Cyrus come together, it’s a recipe for hot love—take one wickedly willful widow and one arrogantly masterful man, add a dash of decadent desire, a pinch of sizzling naughty, and turn up the fire.

5 Lips and a Recommended Read

…This is the kind of book which you start and you can’t stop reading until you’re done with it and then you want to read it all over again—it’s that good.

Pinch of Naughty Available Now:

Amazon  /  ARe  /  B&N  /  iTunes  / EC  /


Thanks for stopping by,


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Say HOWDY, COWBOY! for Your Chance to Win a Paperback or Ebook

I love a good pickup line. My short story, Skin Deep, in the Cowboy Heat Anthology, has our heroine, Layne, starting out just being friendly with a quiet cowboy at The Wrong Turn Bar. She buys him a beer.

When she toasts her ex-boyfriend, the two of them start talking. Then things start to get hot, and they learn that, besides the way both of them are always getting stared at, they each have a lot of hurt in their lives.

And it all started with a beer!

How would you pick up a cowboy? (for those of us who are ‘taken’ already, here’s your chance to fantasize!


Book Blurb of Skin Deep: A pretty city girl and a scarred country cowboy discover love waits when you’re ready to look beneath the surface.

Layne Starwood drives all the way from Denver to a barely-there town in rural Colorado to drink away her self-pity in a watering hole aptly-named The Wrong Turn Bar. Taking a seat near one of the three customers, she orders a beer and begins her mission. Starting up a conversation with the quiet cowboy hiding in the shadow of his Stetson, she unburdens her sad story on him then is shocked to learn of his tragic history.

The scar on his face mirrors the ache in his heart, and after a long evening of talking, Layne realizes the man is as modest and kind as he is funny. She lets herself indulge in a touch, a kiss, and a wild, hot hour in his arms. Can she convince him to spend the rest of the weekend with her, or are his scars too deep for her to try to heal?

Excerpt from Skin Deep: Layne placed her hand in his and the zing of awareness rattled her. She stood and found herself almost a foot shorter than the cowboy.

Kyle set his hand on her lower back and guided her toward the door. His height and the sure way he led her caused her heartbeat to rev. As they passed the pretty boys, she could almost smell the testosterone wafting off Kyle, as if he was marking what was his.

The thought of being his made her core jitter with delight. His hand on her back warmed her through her whole body. The rain had slowed, and as he helped her up into his truck, his hands lingered on her just long enough to make her crazy for more of the cowboy.

He slid into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. “Your bachelorette party, huh?”

“I must have forgotten to tell you that part.” She’d intentionally left it out of her story. “Guess it makes me look kind of…” She stared out the side window. “Pathetic.” Driving all this way for a canceled party. Pathetically crazy.

“Hey.” His voice came out stern.

She turned to look at him.

“I’d say you were brave to do this. Seeking closure, right?” He got the truck moving toward the motel and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “I’m impressed. You’ve got a lot more going for you than your looks.”

She sucked in a breath. He was pretty damn amazing. Every instinct told her she could trust him, and every intuition said she shouldn’t let him slip away.

Kyle pulled up in front of room seven, jumped out, and helped her down from the high seat. He walked her to her door, opened it and flipped the switch to turn on the lamp. He leaned in and glanced around her room to make sure it was safe.

“Can I pay you for the ride?” They stood outside under the overhang as rain formed a wall, sealing them alone together.

He looked down at her, his gorgeous eyes narrowing with a sexy look. He took her wrist and tugged her close. “Yeah, you can.”

Oh hell, yes! She wanted this cowboy, every perfectly macho inch of him. Wrapping her hand around the nape of his neck, she pressed her breasts to his chest and went up on tiptoes.

He groaned and lowered his lips to hers.

Her skin flushed hot, her heart thudded, and between her legs, her pussy tingled and ached.

His kiss took everything she had, his tongue feasting on her, tasting and teasing.

The earth moved, but wait—it was him walking her backward into her room. The door slammed and he pressed her back against it.

His steaming-hot body flattened against her front as the door cooled her back. His kiss slowed while he sucked her tongue into his mouth, encouraging her to explore and sample him. Beer and spices from the burger, and a male taste all his own combined on her tongue. She ran her tongue over his lip, loving the texture of his scar.

He ground the rise in his jeans into her mound, hot and hungry.

She needed to be closer. Grabbing the front of his shirt, she pulled and buttons popped.

He tossed his hat, ripped away the rest of his shirt, then went for her T-shirt, ripping it down the front.

Animal instinct arose in her and her hips bucked forward, demanding his intrusion into her, his hard cock into her wet slit. He ripped the front of her bra in two, mumbling, “I’ll pay for it.” Her breasts spilled out and her puckered nipples prickled in the cool air, then warmed as his gaze locked on them.

“I don’t give a damn about my clothes.” She reached for his belt.


Learn more about all the Cowboy Heat stories at my Website

Available in Ebook and Paperbook:
Give me your best pickup line, the one you’d use to get a cowboy to notice you, then head over to my Facebook Page and enter to win a paperback or ecopy of Cowboy Heat.

Good luck!
“Rode Hard and Put Up Satisfied”
Facebook Fan Page

My Books – read the first chapters and find buy links:
-Tall, Dark and Alpha only $.99
-Redneck Romeo: A Red Hot Valentine Story only $.99
-Chase and Seduction
-Heart of Steele
-Double Her Fantasy
-Double Her Pleasure
-Cowboy 6 Pack only $.99
-Cowboy Jackpot: Christmas
-Cowboy Jackpot: Valentine’s Day
-Cowboy Jackpot: St. Patrick’s Day
-Her Cowboy Stud
-Turn Up the Heat
-Cowboy Bad Boys
-Cowboy Lust
-Free Read! A Gentleman and a Cowboy is available at Amazon, Smashwords, All Romance Ebooks, Diesel Ebook Store, Barnes and Noble

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Shall We Dance?

Young handsome man on orange background.I love movies about dancing and stories about people coming alive again when they learn to dance. Probably because I love to dance! I grew up during the Disco era. I know, that dates me. I used to practice disco dancing in my mother’s basement and sneak into the bars in Hot Springs, AR when I was only 16-17 years old just to be able to dance. When I married a man who doesn’t dance, I really mourned the loss of that part of my life. Any time I get to dance,  I do it.

Several years back (20+) three of us ladies from the place where I worked decided we deserved a night out. We ditched our husbands and went to a county-western dance hall in San Antonio. We all tried to keep up with each other drinking and we hoped and prayed some fella would ask us to dance. We about gave up when the UGLIEST guy in the place asked me to dance. Personally, I didn’t care if he looked like the tail end of a horse’s butt, I wanted to dance. So I jumped out of my chair and dragged him to the floor.

And it was like magic! The man had the face only a mother could love, but he could dance like nobody’s business! The three of us ladies shared him, dancing to  our hearts’ delight. He had a sweet story too. His wife had walked out on him after five years of marriage. He sat around feeling sorry for himself and finally picked himself up by the bootstraps and took dance lessons. Now he never lacks a partner.

Goes to show, looks aren’t everything. I’d take dancing over looks any day! This was the basis for my story SHALL WE DANCE in the COWBOY HEAT anthology of short stories published by CLEIS Publishing. It’s a sweet, sexy short story, but came from my heart.  And it has characters from my series UGLY STICK SALOON.

The COWBOY HEAT anthology is a collection of short stories about cowboys and it was pulled together by my sister DELILAH DEVLIN. So you know they had to be good to get into the anthology. She almost didn’t choose mine saying it was too sweet. I’m really glad she did. The story needed to be told.

Amazon Kindle

Posted in A Writer's Life, cowboys, How it started, inspiration, my life, New Release, Westerns | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments

Cowboy Heat Blog Tour–Monster Prize Chest and Great Authors!

This is a drive by—no bullets, just a quick shout out to let you know that the authors of COWBOY HEAT are hosting a blog tour, complete with a slew of prizes, daily winners, and great posts by authors you love! Don’t miss a date!


Cowboy Heat Blog Tour

Be sure to follow us, post comments along the way, because beyond daily prizes awarded, we have a monster rafflecopter giveaway too! Check out the stops…

3/31 Words of Wisdom from The Scarf Princess (Guest Post #1 by Cheyenne Blue )

3/31 Angels With Attitude Book Reviews (Spotlight)

3/31 C&F (Spotlight)

3/31 Monlatable Reviews (Spotlight)

4/1 Night Owl Reviews (Guest Post #1 by Cat Johnson)

4/2 Books and Fandom (Spotlight)

4/2 Snarky Mom Reads… (Spotlight)

4/3 Book Monster Reviews
(Guest Post #1 by Delilah Devlin)

4/4 Perusing Princesses (Spotlight) (Guest Post #1 by Cynthia D’Alba)

4/4 Two Sassy Chicks (Guest Post #1 by Megan Mitchum)

4/5 Mythical Books (Guest Post #2 by Sabrina York)

4/6 KT Book Reviews (Guest Post #2 by Randi Alexander)

4/7 In The Pages of a Good Book (Guest Post #2 by Mia Hopkins)

4/8 babbling about books and, more (Guest Post #1 by Emma Jay)

4/8 (Guest Post #1 by Layla Chase)

4/9 Tome Tender (Guest Post #1 by Megan Mitchum)

4/10 Read More Romance (Guest Post #1 by Mia Hopkins)

4/10 – deal sharing aunt (Guest Post #1 by Myla Jackson)

4/11 – For Whom The Books Toll (Guest Post #1 by Randi Alexander)

4/11 – Dirty Girl Romance (Spotlight)

4/13 Inner Goddess (Guest Post #1 by Sabrina York)

4/13 The Lusty Literate (Guest Post #2 by Emma Jay)

4/13 The Snarkology (Guest Post #2 by Cat Johnson)

4/13 We Love Kink (Guest Post #2 by Cheyenne Blue )

Posted in Happenings, New Release, Uncategorized | Tagged , | 2 Comments

A Twisted Tale

As many of you likely don’t know my writing yet, I thought I’d give you an excerpt from my book, Twisted Up.

It’s a couple of years old, but it’s a deliciously sexy romp of a love story, inspired by a line in a SHEDaisy song, a visit to a bar during trivia night, a conversation with a friend about bowls of coffee, and the dear friendship with a cowboy…

TwistedUp200x300One rope. Three days. And two hearts on the line.

Justin has had enough. Ella, the woman who healed his broken heart, has been cancelling on him for two months straight. Sure, she’s busy with her job, which has her traveling far and wide. But that never stopped her from sharing nights of trivia, long conversations and blazing hot sex—until now. Truth to tell, he misses their easy friendship, the way her sighs fill his ear as he fills her body.

What he can’t figure out is, what’s changed?

At work, Ella finds it easy to talk to rooms full of strangers. Once back at her lonely apartment, though, she’s back to her painfully shy self—until Justin. Their chance meeting grew over the months into a year-long affair, but she can’t shake the feeling that rejection and pain are just around the corner. Best thing to do? End it now, before their intimacy digs too deep.

Suddenly he’s at her door with a length of neon-green rope and a naughty proposition, daring her to say no. Just how good could it be? There’s only one way to find out…

Warning: The sheets are tangled, the hat is crumpled, and the jeans are worn low on the hips. The cowboy is hot, determined, and helpless in the face of bunny slippers. Readers may need extra batteries to get this one out of their system.


“We ever gonna talk about it?”

Ella turned her head toward him. “Talk about what?” She feigned innocence though she knew without having to be told what exactly it was that Justin wanted to talk about.

“You know what.”

“I don’t really want to.” She sighed and took the lifeline he offered when he reached for her hand.

He slid his fingers between hers and squeezed lightly. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked, but in emails and texts and instant messages, she could avoid the subject better and easier than she could with him seated a foot away.

“I know you don’t want to and I don’t want to push it. Part of me thinks you’ll tell me when you’re ready, but the other part of me thinks that unless I prod you and make you tell me, that you never will.”

He was right about that. “That’s the thing. I don’t know when I’ll be ready.” And she didn’t. She might never be and that just wasn’t acceptable if she was going to ever move forward and have another relationship. Whether it was with Justin or not, she would have to get to a place where she could be

“We weren’t suited, you know? He and I. We just weren’t compatible in…” Damn she sounded like it was more a business arrangement or friendship than a marriage. “I had this idea of what marriage would be, of what a relationship between husband and wife should be and the reality didn’t live up to it.”

“How so?”

“I used to think that a marriage was two people that wanted to be with one another, two people that couldn’t imagine life apart. I didn’t really feel that with him, and I don’t think he ever felt it with me either. I think it was more or less that neither of us wanted to be alone.” And that same thought haunted her now, too, with Justin. “It’s not that I expected roses and wine and to be attached at the hip all day and night. I just wanted his attention, his affection, sex. I wanted someone to talk with, share life with and after giving in, in nearly every area of his interest and getting nothing in return…” She shrugged and tried to pull her hand from his, to put some distance between them, but Justin wouldn’t let go. She was open and feeling exposed and she hated it. Sexually exposed she could handle. Emotionally, not so much.

“You deserved better. You still do, baby.”

“So did he. It just wasn’t working out and I didn’t want to hurt him more than I had already by pushing him away, by not being able to accept that he wasn’t going to change or be able to let me in the way I needed him to. Even though I understood his reasons for keeping everything so bottled up, even though I was doing exactly what he tried to protect himself against, I needed more from him. I didn’t want a fairy tale, but I wanted more than I was getting. I was starving for affection, for closeness, for any kind of connection and he wasn’t capable of giving it.”

She thought back to all those conversations, to the look in his eyes, to the disappointment, to the anger, to the relief. He knew she hadn’t been happy for a long time because she’d told him on more than one occasion. He didn’t ask her to stay and try to fix things. He didn’t promise he’d try to change. She was emotionally and sexually needy and she knew it and staying with him, wasn’t going to help her fulfill those needs. There was no guarantee that she’d find someone who could, but she had to try.

“I’m sorry, Ella.”

“No need for you to be sorry, Justin, but thank you just the same.”

“Do you regret it?”

Did she? “No. My mom always said that when it was time, I’d know. She’d realized even before I did how unhappy I was. I wasn’t fair to him. I should have let him go long before. I wasted eight years of his life and mine. I knew before we ever walked down the aisle that I shouldn’t marry him, that something wasn’t clicking, but I did it anyway.”

She didn’t need or want to make excuses, drum up reasons why or what if. What was done was done. She couldn’t undo it, she couldn’t take it back and even if she could, she wouldn’t. “I should have walked away long ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Why indeed. “Fear. I was scared no one else would ever want me. Strange to think that when I don’t know that he ever wanted me to begin with. I just don’t know. We were great as friends, bad as lovers.”

Justin nodded. “I think a good marriage takes both.”

She agreed with him on that.

“Do you still see him, talk to him?”

Ella smiled into the darkness outside the dim truck cabin. There was an odd intimacy surrounding them. There were cars and trucks with lights on passing them on the road, but it was almost as though she and Justin were the only two people in the world. “Yes. We actually do still talk, more so than we did when we were married. He moved back home to Georgia and oddly enough, I travel near on occasion. We’ve met for lunch and dinner and talked about the things that made us friends but not lovers.”

“No regrets?” he asked.

She turned toward him. He was looking at her, then the road, then to her. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling. Since her separation and then her divorce, she’d vowed that no matter what, she’d be honest from then on. Whether it was about how she felt or didn’t feel, what she wanted or didn’t want, what was or wasn’t working for her, she’d be honest. She wouldn’t try to talk herself into someone else’s truths or beliefs or feelings of what was best.

Just like with Justin. If she hadn’t wanted to be with him, she wouldn’t be riding in the truck, getting closer to Dallas and his home, his bed with every second that ticked by. “No.”

“I have regrets,” he said softly.

Her eyes widened as she stared at him. He had regrets? About them? She tried to pull her hand from his grip again but he wouldn’t let go. Was he having second thoughts about this? Maybe she should have put up a bigger fuss, pushed him harder about why he wanted her, why he’d come to see her and made the proposition he had. The only way she was going to find out though what his regret was, was to ask. That was another form of honesty, asking the hard questions even if you were afraid to hear the answers. “What do you regret?”

“Not coming to get you sooner.”

He said it so quietly that she almost didn’t hear it, but for emphasis he lifted her hand and stretched her over a bit so he could kiss it. Her heart stuttered to a near stop at his words, at the relief she felt. “Why didn’t you?”

“Work is the easy answer. I knew you were busy and I couldn’t get away at the time. It gave me an excuse to give you space in the hopes you’d come to me, that you’d let me in again, that you’d start talking to me, sharing with me again. You never did. I didn’t understand why you kept pushing me away and the only way to find out was to put myself in front of you and force you to talk to me, to react to me. So, the first chance I got, I took it.”


“Whatever I had to or have to do to get you to open up again, baby, I’m ready, willing and able to do.”

“I wish I were as confident about us as you are.” What if she could never have a serious relationship with anyone? What if it was more than the lack of affection and attention and sex? What if there was something wrong with her? She hadn’t come from the most stable of homes.

Her father had an affair when he’d been married to her mother and when he left her, he married the woman he’d been seeing and to this day they were still married, happily. Her father hadn’t been happy, not for many years before he’d left. Her stepmother was the exact opposite of her real mother and those differences were overwhelmingly obvious. “I don’t know, Justin.”

“I don’t know know either, baby, not for certain, but by your own admission there were doubts in your head before you got married and throughout you felt something wasn’t right.”

“I wanted more.” And she had. She wanted more attention, more affection, more sex, more of everything. She’d turned into a homebody when what she’d really wanted was to go out and do things, be with people, but her husband wanted to sit and watch ball games and television shows. At first they’d sat on the couch together, but then he bought a recliner and that small bit of togetherness, that little bit of intimacy was gone. Her marriage hadn’t given her what she’d hoped for and she’d turned to going out with friends from work. He’d never seemed to mind. He did his thing and she did hers. They simply paid the bills together and shared a roof.

“I know you did. Some things just aren’t meant to be, Ella.”

“We might not be,” she said solemnly, giving voice to one of her very real fears.

“True, but I’m inclined to believe we are.” He slid her a wink and a waggle of his eyebrows in an effort to pull a smile from her. It worked.

“And why is that?”

“Many, many reasons.”

His voice had dropped to that deep, seductive Texas twang she loved so much. It usually wasn’t so pronounced, but there were moments where it took over and it was all she could do not to melt into a puddle. “Such as?”

“Well, there’s the taste of you on my tongue. One just doesn’t get over that.”

Ella rolled her eyes in his direction and huffed. “Oh, I’m sure one does and can if one tries. What else have you got?”

“The taste of me on your tongue. One just doesn’t get over that either.”

She’d have laughed if he hadn’t sounded so serious. She knew he was teasing her, trying to bring her out again, make her smile, and believe in him, even if she didn’t believe in them yet. “Arrogant ass. There’s more, right? Something more substantial maybe?”

“Of course there is. You talk to me, and I talk to you. We’re holding hands. You didn’t have that before or maybe you did, I don’t know. There are a million reasons why it could and should and would work between us. I’m sure there are a few reasons it wouldn’t, couldn’t, and shouldn’t. I’d rather look at the glass half full than half empty, and I’d rather try than wonder.”

Okay, she’d give him that. She admired that about him too. He could look at the bright, possible side of things and there were times where she could too when she was around him. “Well, and you did drive ten hours in the middle of the night and threaten to hog-tie me if I didn’t come along quietly. Coercion goes a long way, it seems.”

“There is that. But for the record, baby, I didn’t threaten to hog-tie you. We can try that later though. I’m very good at ropin’”

If you’re interested in more…

Amazon | Barnes and Noble | ARe | Samhain Publishing




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The Back-Up Plan

I know we talk about all things cowboys here most days, but I hope you’ll indulge me today if I take a wee break from the wild, wild west to mention my latest release. The Back-Up Plan comes out tomorrow. Rather than red-hot ranch hands and alpha cowboys, it features sexy lawyers as no-nonsense Kristen, discovers that nothing about falling in love makes sense. Especially when her heart sets its sights on the last man on the planet she wants to spend the rest of her life with, her womanizing law partner, Jason. All rise. Court is now in session!

Back-UpPlan-The72webJust how legally binding is a promise made on a cocktail napkin?

Second Chances, Book 4

Kristen Grey has always been married to her work, but as her fortieth birthday looms, she begins to wonder if that’s all there is to life. When her friend Zoey suggests she come up with a goal for a second chance at happiness, the first idea to pop into Kristen’s mind falls out of her mouth—to find a husband.

One night, after a few too many shots of vodka, it falls out of her mouth again, in front of the last man she wants to hear it. Her annoying, cocky law partner, Jason Mitchell. She’s shocked when he vows to help in her quest to find a man.

After all, he has a vested interest in her success. Years ago, they foolishly made a pact that if they hadn’t found “the one” by age forty, they’d marry each other. Time is running out.

Problem is, as Jason and Kristen try to help each other find love, it becomes more and more apparent that maybe the back-up plan isn’t such a bad option after all.

Warning: The heroine in this story has no objection to how her law partner likes to recess. Legal eagle? Nope. Spread eagle.


Jason stood when a slow song started and the singer on the stage began to croon “Unchained Melody” every bit as beautifully as The Righteous Brothers.

He held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

She looked around the bar. “No one else is dancing.”

He shrugged. “I don’t care.”

She accepted his hand and let him lead her to an empty spot in front of the stage. Then he wrapped her in his arms and they began to sway. Soon other people followed suit, coupling up to join them on the tiny, makeshift dance floor.

“One of the top five love songs ever,” Jason murmured in her ear.

“Really? You think so? I’ve never been a big fan.”

He pulled back so he could see her face. “Are you kidding me?”

She shook her head and crinkled her nose.

“Oh man. What the hell happened to your heart, Tin Man? This is a very romantic song.”

She grinned. “God. Please tell me you’re not one of those people who goes for mushy-gushy crap like this.”

They were still holding each other and moving in time, their conversation spoken in hushed whispers. Though Jason pretended to be annoyed with her response, she could see the spark in his eye that confirmed he loved their sparring as much as she did.

“You’re in serious danger of being held in contempt of love court. You have one chance for reprieve or I’ll have to lock you up in my Audi and bombard you with romantic songs until you break.”

She feigned a shudder.

“So what song makes you melt inside?”

She pretended to consider her answer, then said, “‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’. Def Leppard.”

Jason groaned. “You wanna try again or do I need to get my car keys out?”

“Fine. I’m a Clapton fan. ‘Wonderful Tonight’.”

Jason tilted his head, clearly impressed by her answer. “That’s a good song. Why that one?”

She should have known he’d dig deeper. It didn’t matter. She knew her answer. “I guess because it’s not about new love or lust or desire. It’s about a lasting love. That feels more true to me.”

“Wow. Great answer.”

She didn’t have time to reply when he pulled her closer, the embrace becoming more hug than dance. Neither of them sought to break the connection. Instead, they held tight, swaying in place.

When the song ended, Jason let her go, leading her back to the table. Kristen missed his touch instantly.

He must have felt it too. “You wanna go?”

She nodded.

Jason settled their tab, then the two of them drove back to her townhouse in silence. As they pulled into the parking lot, Jason turned the car off, but left the battery running, the radio playing softly.

“Well,” he said.

He was waiting for an invitation inside. She knew it. But the panic she’d held at bay all night found its way to the surface, clogging her throat with pure fear.

She tried to cover it up when a song came on the radio. “I love this song.”

Jason smiled kindly. He could obviously see the nervousness she wasn’t hiding very well. “It’s one of my favorites.”

They sat in silence as the words to “Let Your Heart Hold Fast” closed in around them. It comforted her, calmed her down.

Then she turned to face him. “Jason—”

He shook his head. “It’s okay, Kris. You don’t have to ask me in.”

She leaned forward, grateful for his understanding, while hating him for it as well. Some sick, weak part of her wanted him to demand, to push for this.

“Happy birthday,” she whispered, meaning to give him a quick, platonic kiss. Those intentions flew out the window the second her lips touched his. She’d had two weeks to remember every incredible, intense moment of his first kiss in her office. The memory had consumed her, drowned her in longing.

Now she was here again and unwilling to deny herself one more taste.

Jason clasped her cheeks in his hands and she realized it wasn’t music that melted her, it was the sexy way he held her, coddled her, made her feel precious, delicate, special.

She twisted, trying to move closer, but the damn stick shift kept digging into her side. Jason must’ve noticed because he turned as well, working to move them away from the damn thing. She laughed when he banged his elbow against it.

“Something tells me it would be simpler to make out with a porcupine,” she murmured.

He gave her a crooked grin. “Let’s try something else.” He pressed lightly on her shoulder until she was in her seat once more, her head against the rest. “Lift that lever on the side of the seat and recline.”

What the hell was she doing? She was almost forty years old and making out in a car like a horny teenager. That fact was made even more ridiculous by the idea that her parent-less house was less than a hundred feet away from them.

Regardless, she did as he asked, not quite ready to make the mother of all mistakes just yet. Even so, she was dying to see what he had in mind for now.

She slid her seat back, expecting Jason to follow suit. He didn’t.

Instead he twisted in his own, studying her face. “You’re beautiful, Kris.”

She was touched by the compliment and amused by the slight sound of amazement in his voice. “You sound surprised by that.”

“I’m trying to figure out how the hell I’ve missed that detail all these years.”

Kristen couldn’t respond because he punctuated his statement by resting his hand on her knee and his fingers slipped the skirt higher.

The Back-Up Plan is available for preorder at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Samhain.

Posted in eBooks, Excerpts, New Release, Upcoming Releases | 4 Comments

The Call of the Western

I’ve always had a thing for cowboys — dating back to when I was knee-high to a grasshopper watching the Cartwrights on Bonanza. I confess I had a thing for Little Joe, and Hoss made me laugh a lot. At the time I wasn’t keen on Adam, but I think if I saw him now I’m all grown up, my opinion might change. (Did no one back then ever make note of how Pa Cartwright had three sons by three different women? Did his love interests in the shows over the years ever worry that his track record might spell bad luck for whoever he fell in love with and send them scrambling?)

Anyway, maybe the Cartwrights are why I love writing westerns now. And maybe because of them, there are certain elements I think a western always needs, like…

A cowboy calling me “darlin’” in a deep-voiced slow drawl. No one uses that term up here in Canada. No one drawls up here, either.  I don’t know if any guy calls someone darlin’ complete with dropped G in real life in Texas or any of the other “cowboy” states, but I sure love that slow drawled term even if I’m only hearing it in my head.

The slow pace of the country. I grew up in a rural area, surrounded by cattle who I’d moo at as I walked past them to catch the bus at the end of the road. And then there was the benefit of how you could turn up your radio and not disturb the neighbors because they were over the hill a mile away, and probably had their radio turned up loud too. I won’t mention that yes, my mooing at the cattle did once cause them to stampede at me and I went running down the road as fast as I could, not trusting the fence to stop them. Or how being so far away from everything meant your friends were too far away to just “hang out with.” (Until I got my driver’s license and then holy moly…yeah, that’s a story I’m not telling.)

The romance of sitting in a saddle, the scent and creak of leather as the horse walks along a well-worn path, his ears and tail flicking away the flies. (We won’t mention that they might get spooked by a plastic bag caught in a bush and dump you out of the saddle, will we?)

Sitting on a porch in the evening, sipping a sweet tea, watching the wind blow across the fields, listening to cattle in the distance, or a stallion calling to a mare. Or just listening to the crickets and birdsong. We won’t mention that we’d probably be dead tired and be getting ready to haul ourselves off to bed because we have to be up at the buttcrack of dawn or before. Or how too many glasses of sweet tea means the behind you’re sitting on starts spreading, and spreading… and spreading some more. Right?

photo credit: Image credit: - joyart / 123RF Stock Photo Cowboys with their ropey muscles who are strong enough that they can haul the groceries in without breaking a sweat. (And drawl a pleasant, “yes ma’am” when you make the request. Or even better, just do it without having to be asked.) Men who are fearless — not afraid to catch that spider or mouse, you know, the one that makes me squeal like a girl? They’ll just calmly take care of the matter and get on with business. After giving me a kiss and calling me darlin’ to distract me.

Oh, and then there are the cowboy butts, especially if highlighted by a pair of leather chaps (fringes optional). My cowboys will never wear 48XXXL overalls or have a beer gut either. They’re all going to have tight muscular butts that those chaps highlight to perfection.

At least that’s how I fantasize about them.  Hey, it’s fiction, I can dream! And we don’t have to mention that they may have an eau-de-barn odor or how they’ve probably tracked mud across your clean floors, okay?

What do you like about cowboys and western stories?

Oh, and despite me loving the fantasy of a cowboy wearing his cowboy hat as he rides his trusty steed, my upcoming novel, No Accounting for Cowboys, features a modern day cowboy who wears a ball cap and rides an ATV. But I still  him… I guess that makes me fickle. ;)

And for a sneak peek at Jake, here’s a snippet…

She continued walking along the edge, so he trailed her. A herd of white tails, including a ten point buck, ranged along the hillside below. The stag had raised his head and watched them carefully.

Jake hunkered down and picked up a handful of soil, sifted it through his fingers. “It takes work to keep it healthy, not just irrigation but fertilizing, rotating crops. Even rotating the cattle through the pastures so they don’t overgraze.”

“You really love this place, don’t you? Your whole face lights up when you talk about it.”

No Accounting for Cowboys by Leah BraemelNot many people got him like Paige did. And she’d picked up on it so quickly. He nodded. “It’s like I’m connected to it. It’s in my veins.” The first glint on the far hill caught his eye. His timing had been perfect. “This is what I brought you down to see.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her back against his chest and rested his chin on top of her head. Another degree of movement from the sun as it lowered and…there.

Beams of sunlight reflected off the mansion, scattering over the valley. As he always did when he stood here in the afternoon, he wondered if the architect had planned the angle of the windows to catch the sun’s rays the way they did or if it had been serendipity.

Paige gasped. “It’s breathtaking. The way the sun glints off the windows, it’s like the entire top of the hill is crystal.”

Exactly. And finally. Finally someone saw it the way he did. Ben had never managed to open his eyes long enough to see the beauty of the way the building had been set into the side of the hill, how it blended into the surroundings. Only seeing the bleak fortress-like presentation Gram’s architect had deliberately presented for outsiders to see.

“I used to sneak away after dinner and come down here. When the sun is low on the horizon, and the sky is all red and gold, reflected in those big windows, and in the lake, it’s like the whole valley is on fire.

It felt so right. With her, standing right here in this spot. Someone who got him. Someone he had no secrets from.

The tightness in his chest loosened, the world feeling righter than it had in a long time.

“One day I got pissed off. Ben was bugging me and Mom and Pop were busy doing somethin’ or other. So I came out here. Figured I’d camp out until someone missed me.

“Took them a couple hours and then Pop appeared. I figured he’d be mad, but he just sat down on the ground beside me.” His father had draped his arm around his shoulder. They’d stayed there, enthralled as the sunlight changed from its bright gold to fiery orange, reflecting over the entire area. “He said he loved coming down here too. That it was probably his favorite spot on the whole ranch.”

“I can see why.” She covered his arms with hers, the physical connection soothing and enticing all at once. He made a slight adjustment of his hips so she wouldn’t feel his semi-hard-on.

“He brought me back a few days later, just the two of us. We set up an old canvas tent, sleeping bags. Had a campfire.” He’d fallen asleep staring at up at the sky, the stars mirrored on both sides of them, in the lake and the massive glass sparkling like a cathedral, peepers serenading him like a choir. He’d slept better than if he’d been tucked into his own bed.

Grief he’d thought he’d set aside swamping him, he buried his head in her hair. “I miss him.”

Paige twisted in his arms until she faced him. “Of course you do. Every time you look out here, it’s a permanent reminder of what you’ve lost.”

Her lips were parted, the color still high in her cheeks. She smelled of oranges or tangerines and something spicy, with a hint of gasoline from the quad, the mix strangely intoxicating.

She reached up and brushed her lips over his. One hand slipped around his waist, the other cupped his head, drawing him down to her level. Not that he was about to resist her. She parted her lips and touched her tongue to the seam of his.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him in place as she moved her lips over his cheek, down his throat. His arms tightened around her when she licked his Adam’s apple. Nibbled the side of his neck.

“Damn it, woman, if you keep that up…” He’d walk her until her back was flat against one of the trees, her jeans pulled down and him buried inside her.

“You’d what? Get me horizontal?”

“Not around here. The ground is too rocky. And then there are the darned prickly pears. They hurt like a son of a gun if you end up in them.” He groaned when she nibbled his earlobe. “Have any complaints about doin’ it standing up against a tree?”

“None at all.”

Read another excerpt at Leah’s website.



HARLEQUIN COVER ART: Cover Art Copyright© 2014 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A. Cover Art used by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises Limited. All rights reserved. © and ™ are trademarks owned by Harlequin Enterprises Limited or its affiliated companies, used under license.


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Win Tons of Prizes at the RISING ASSETS FB party!

RISING ASSETS bannerHi all!  Rising Assets will release on Monday at a special release price of less than a dollar, and we’re having a FB party on Wednesday to, well, party.  :)  There are several guest authors lined up to chat and give away goodies…including Cynthia Eden, Laura Kaye, Vanessa Kelly, Terry Spear, Cathryn Cade, Kristin Miller, and more!  So head on over to join, and I hope to see you there!  (Just click on the banner for a direct link).

Here’s a fun excerpt of Rising Assets:

She stepped toward him, and he lifted an eyebrow. After what seemed like a small mental debate, she grabbed his destroyed shirt and tugged. Stretching up on her toes, her mouth slid against his.

Fire lashed through him so quickly he swayed. A million thoughts exploded at once, and he shut them down. Completely.

Groaning, he hauled her close and took over. The fear, the storm, the fury all comingled into raw need inside him. There were no more thoughts, no more uncertainties.

There was only this woman and this moment.

So he took both as deep as he could. He angled his mouth, and she drew a sharp breath, holding it.

Her lips softened beneath his as he explored her, learning her taste. Wild huckleberries and brandy? The most delicious combination in existence. She moaned deep in her throat, the sound sparking down his torso to his balls.

Her grip on him was strong and sure. He bent her, his hands full of woman. Brushing a hand across her firm ass, he shuddered. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” Punctuating his words, he cupped a handful. Firm and tight, her flesh was better than he’d dreamed.

He shouldn’t have said that. But the connection between his mouth and brain had disappeared.

She sighed against him, pressing closer. “Hurry.”

“Hell, no.” He reached behind them to shove open the door, backing her inside.

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