Get ready for another Rhinestone Cowgirl!!!

I’m working on Pressure Rising, Book 2 (Rhinestone Cowgirls), Pearl’s story. The first book, UNDER PRESSURE, Jewels’ story, was a blast to write. I love these three sisters. They can hold their own in any situation and are always getting into trouble.

In UNDER PRESSURE, Jewels is out for revenge on the cowboy who she believes mistreated her younger sister, Emerald. So, just like any sister would, Jewels seduces and entices Spark to come back to her room where she pulls out wax and rope. I’ve included an excerpt so you’ll see just how naughty Jewels is. Poor Spark! He doesn’t know whether to run or to lap up Jewels like an ice cream cone.

The story is loosely based on an incident where I just might have, but not sayin’ for sure, waxed my man’s back and he ‘possibly’ screamed in pain. Again, I’m not sayin’ for sure, but I might have laughed so hard that I almost peed my pants. Although getting his back waxed was completely voluntary, it did spark an idea how wax strips can be used as modern day torture devices. I will say proudly, not once have I screamed while getting waxed. I do believe my DH has a new respect for my pain tolerance.



Forcing one eye to a slit, he wasn’t in his room, but still in the motel. Damn. He’d fallen asleep.

Opening both eyes, he blinked the fuzziness away and lifted his head. His arms were stretched high above his head and his wrists ached. He darted a glimpse above him.

He was tied to the headboard. Acid gurgled in his stomach. “What the hell!” He gave his hands a jerk, but the rope held them tight. “Fuck!”

Jerking a glance around the room…there she was…sitting in the chair, her legs crossed and a look of satisfaction covering her pretty features.

“What the fuck is this?” Now he understood why Ms. Stone had been throwing herself at him. “Talk to me!” he demanded.

A sticky, tingly sensation brought his gaze lower and on his legs. He squinted. Both legs were covered with some sort of pink, glossy paper.  “And what in God’s creation are those?”

She got up, stood at the end of the bed, a smirk curving her lips. “Wax strips.”

“Get them off me and let me the hell out of this bed!” he snarled

“Are you sure you want me to help you with the strips?” One thin brow curved maliciously.

“Hell yeah!”

She reached down, grabbed the corner of one strip and pulled.

“Ow!” he squealed as a fire like none other raced through his leg. Clenching his teeth, he looked at her through narrowed gaze. “What the hell was that for?’

“You did ask me to help you. So I did.”

“I’m talking about all of this—the rope, the shit on my legs.” He forced a breath through tight lips.

Smugly, she crossed her arms. “This is a lesson earned.”

He popped up a brow. “A lesson? For what?” Bringing his gaze back to his rope twined wrists, he visually examined the headboard. The cord was wrapped around his wrists, fashioned through the five-inch gap into the wooden detail, then pulled back through and tied in a knot. From what he could see, and with another tug, it wasn’t a bad knot.

“I’m sorry, but I have plans so I must hurry. I won’t spend much time with my explanation. You played my sister. Therefore, I’m showing you what it’s like to be played.”

He perused his brain, trying to find a clue as to what she was referring too. He came up blank. This had to be a joke! “Lady, the only one of us who is a player and a manipulator is you.” Seeing a flicker of confusion, he chuckled. “Yes, that’s right, Jewels Stone.”

One brow snapped up and her hands clenched into fists. “So…so, you knew who I was all along?” Her lips thinned. Good thing she didn’t have a weapon, otherwise he’d be dead, he was certain.

“What? You don’t like being caught at your sordid game? Pot. Kettle. Black.” He gave his arms a jerk and the bed creaked.

She darted her glance to his bound wrists, but only a mere flash. “Don’t talk or I’ll have to get the tape and cover your mouth.”

Anger sliced through his gut. Damn, woman! He didn’t doubt for a minute that she’d do as she threatened.

With a cold glance in his direction, she bent and grabbed something. His jeans! She dipped her hand into the back pocket and withdrew his cell. Now what was she doing?

One commenter will win a $5 GC at Amazon. Please leave your email.

UNDER PRESSURE is available now!

Watch for PRESSURE RISING coming soon!

Buy here:


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Falling Softly

FallingSoftly72lgOctober 21 marked the release of the final book in the Compass series. It’s very sad to say goodbye to these characters as they’ve become like family to me over the past few years. Compton Pass would be at the top of my vacation places if only it really existed!

Falling Softly

The deepest falls aren’t always the hardest.

Compass Girls, Book 4

Darkness has crept into Sterling Compton’s charmed life, relentlessly stealing what’s left of her grandmother’s memories. When she happens upon a compelling stranger leaning against a broken-down pickup in the middle of nowhere, grief and a gut-deep attraction spur her to take that too-safe life by the horns.

From the instant Sterling emerges from her Jeep, Viho is drawn to her carefree spirit. Her innocent offer of a ride turns into the ride of his life in his truck bed—and he forgets why he meant to avoid Compton Pass at all costs.

He should have known that karma was waiting to laugh in his face. Especially when Viho figures out Sterling’s father is the one who stood between him and the man he should have called “father”.

Yet it’s tough to hate someone who offers him a job. Especially when he and Sterling realize there’s a living tie on the way that will bind Viho to her family forever—if he can convince her she’s much more to him than an obligation.

Product Warnings
Sometimes it’s hard to let go, but every story has an ending. This one has a Native American hero with a chip on his shoulder the size of Wyoming and a vulnerable heroine who has a gift for polishing up diamonds in the rough. Some scenes may tug heartstrings so hard it’ll hurt, but the oh-my-god orgasms make up for it.


Putting out one hand, he said, “Viho.”

“Interesting name.” She shook it, marveling at how he swallowed her fingers with heat and a gentle pressure that didn’t crush her but didn’t treat her like she was delicate filigree either.

“I could say the same.” He flashed her another semi-smile. “Mine’s Native American. It means Chief.”

“Seriously?” Sterling nodded, impressed. “So are you royalty or something?”

He certainly had an air of nobility about him, despite his commoner’s clothes.

“Nah.” He shook his head a bit. “I guess I could have been. If we still had chiefs, my grandfather would have been it. The small reservation I grew up on looked to him for approval. But getting involved in our government wasn’t my path. Causing a rift in our community was never my intention. And besides, I’m nobody’s leader.”

“How did you know that?” she wondered. After today, she was starting to doubt herself and her life choices where she never had before.

At first, she didn’t think he intended to answer. She figured that was a pretty personal thing to ask a guy you’d spoken fewer words to than you’d say to a drive-thru attendant in the course of ordering a meal. But something about him made her feel as if they’d known each other for a hell of a lot longer than three point two seconds. Maybe it was the way he didn’t pressure her, letting her take the lead in their interactions and conversation, unlike most guys she met, who were eager to pinpoint anything they had in common. Some way to get closer to her, either because they were interested in moving up the ranks at Compass Ranch or because they wanted in her pants. Or both.

Instead, Viho reminded her of Jake, widely recognized as the best man around for taming wild horses. He had that same aloof patience that lured in the wild beasts and made them believe they were safe. And they were. Jake lived up to that implied promise. He cared for all his creatures, went above and beyond to see that they had everything he could give them.

It also could have been the sadness she sensed lurking behind Viho’s spectacular eyes that struck a chord.

“First, the place I grew up wasn’t the norm. It was culturally conservative. Dominated by a few extremist families that would never have seen past my less-than-pure blood. I’d have spent my entire life outvoted by the rest of the council regardless of how worthy my ideas were of their support. We’d have wasted everyone’s time in one giant pissing match, no one moving forward. It’s probably cowardly, but getting more involved seemed like a waste of time. Turning that tide was impossible. It never sat right on me anyway. Politics. People shouting over each other instead of understanding the other’s point of view. I’ve always enjoyed being outside, alone, listening to nature…”

No wonder he hadn’t been worried about spending the night outdoors.

“What does it tell you?” she asked.

And he shut down as surely as if she’d called him a loser.

“Hey.” She paused her examination to lay a hand on his wrist. They both shivered in response. His skin was balmy against hers and his pulse jumped beneath the pads of her fingers at the contact. “I wasn’t kidding around. Not making fun of you. I was serious.”

“Oh.” He sighed. Suddenly he seemed to age, and Sterling realized he was significantly older than she’d first thought. Maybe thirty-five or forty to her twenty-four. A man with some experience didn’t sound like such a bad thing to her. Hopefully, she hadn’t come off as some punk kid harassing him. “I guess I should have said that when it’s quiet around me I can hear myself think. And I don’t feel as out of place in the universe. If I stop listening too long, I start to feel like I don’t belong here and never have. And that’s totally a strange thing to admit. To anyone. But especially to…you know, you.”

He scrunched his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I guess that means we’ve passed that awkward introductory stage of our relationship.” With that lame attempt at a joke, she released him and tried to concentrate. On his words. On the truck. On anything but putting her hands on him again. Maybe sliding her palms beneath his shirt to steal some of his warmth and map the contours of his prime body.

Because suddenly, she really wanted to show him that he was in the exact right place in the cosmos, and so was she.

“It’s kind of weird, you know. I’ve always thought I knew where I was meant to be. But lately, things are changing, and I think that might be worse. Finding out that how you thought things were supposed to be isn’t going to last forever, and that your life is your family’s, not your own.”

“I know exactly what you mean, Sterling.” He gazed at her with such intensity that she had to clear her throat and deliberately turn away. “And when that anchor gets yanked up and you start to drift, it’s easy to get dizzy. To lose your way.”

“Is that how you ended up stranded on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere?” She recalled the black, red and white bedroll she’d spotted in the bed of the truck. It looked like he’d used it. A lot. Not just for picturesque camping trips to manicured grounds, either.

“I suppose it was the start of that path.” He shrugged, kicking a rock into the distance.

The grief radiating off him reminded her too much of what she’d been feeling when she left Compass Ranch earlier—the pain she’d been trying to obliterate, if even for a few hours.

So she steered the conversation to less dangerous ground. Like the cooling weather.

Viho rewarded her change of subjects with the hint of a smile and the loosening of his tense shoulders. As they chitchatted, she tinkered with his engine. It quickly became clear that his assessment was accurate. The thing was toast.

Surrendering, she turned toward Viho at the same instant he leaned in for a closer look. They plastered together. Instinctively, her hands flew to his chest to brace herself. And she smeared grease all over his soft, charcoal cotton shirt.

“Son of a bitch.” She tried to wipe a smudge off and only splattered it more. “I’m so sorry.”

“No problem.” His easygoing nature counterbalanced her impending freak-out, which would only enhance the social awkwardness that had always plagued her. But when he reached down, grabbed the hem of the tee and whipped it over his head, he struck her dumb.

Muscles rippled as he moved, hardness covered with smooth, tan skin she wished she had a right to touch. “Uh…”

“It was an accident. No harm.” He wadded up the fabric and tossed it into the back of the truck.

Except there might be some damage to her heart if it didn’t start beating again where it’d nearly exploded in her ribcage. It was time for her to admit it. She had never drooled over a man, not even a movie star or that guy she’d exchanged some heated emails with through an online matchmaking site, the way she lusted after Viho. Instant and vicious, attraction seethed between them.

“Sterling,” he murmured.


“I think we’d better wrap up here so you can take me into town now.”

“What if I don’t really want to do that anymore?” She couldn’t stop herself from being honest when he’d been so open with her earlier.

“Then I’ll wait for the next person to come by.” He shrugged, but she didn’t miss the flash of disappointment in his warm stare.

Did he think so little of himself that he didn’t understand her implication?

“Viho, this is not the time to be dense.” Brave, sure, she could be. But making the first move in this situation… Well, that was a little outrageous, even for her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He encroached on her personal space then, and she loved it.

“I think I’d rather stay here with you and listen to what nature is telling me right now.” She wiped her hand on her skirt, then reached up to his cheek.

“You can’t mean that.” His eyes went wide. “Are you for real? Maybe I didn’t drink enough water today. I’ve been stuck out here for a while.”

Sterling smiled. She knew she was doing the right thing. He’d needed to find her as much as she’d needed to discover him today. For whatever reason, they were here in the same place at the same time. Wasting that opportunity—divine or pure dumb luck—would not be wise.

Sterling might not have believed in fate before, but she could be converted.

“Does this seem like I mean it?” She launched herself at Viho then, sure he wouldn’t allow her to fall. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she went onto her tiptoes.

He didn’t leave her straining for long. His broad hands cupped the back of her thighs and lifted her to his level. The tips of her boots dangled off the ground as their bodies aligned. Locking them tighter, she wrapped her legs around his hips and crossed her ankles even as her hands rested on either side of his neck. A breeze cooled her ass when her skirt rode up due to her very unladylike position.

Holding her as if she was as dainty as her cousin, Hope, he stared into her eyes until she lunged forward, plastering her lips on his before he could bring either one of them to their senses. That was when his gentlemanly exterior sheared away.


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The Hotter You Get, The Faster They Come

Made you look with that title, didn’t I?

Whenever I’m writing a story, I set up a Pinterest board with photos that inspire me, and that quote was one of the first things I pinned when Lex Couper invited me to be part of the Five Alarm Alphas bundle about firefighters. While intially I’d planned to write about Canadian firefighters, my characters gave me a resounding “We’re Texan!” shout.

So although neither of them are cowboys, firefighter Zac Buchanan and diner owner Tabatha Morgan live in small town Texas. They’ve known each other since…well, they were knee-high to a grasshopper. But the timing’s never been right for either of them. Now, Tabby’s back in town — but Zac’s hesitant to act on his desires and tries, misguidedly, to set her up on a date with his best friend Quinn. Who promptly sets him straight. But Tabby soon discovers that dating a firefighter, even if he’s a volunteer, means accepting that he runs into burning buildings while other people run out.

And better yet, there are seven other stories along with my Feeding the Flames, and for the next few weeks, the Five Alarm Alphas will be available for just 99¢. Don’t miss out, because these firefighters are smokin’ hot!

Oh and don’t miss out the release party we’re holding on Facebook on November 7th — there will be guest authors and prizes.

Combustible ~ Lexxie Couper: Arson investigator, Desmond Russell is the best in Australia. Cool, calm and collected, nothing ruffles him. Until he meets Outback fire brigade captain, Jess Montgomery, a woman who ignites all his sexual desires. The initial spark will engulf them both…but will their hearts survive the inferno?

Wet Down ~ Delilah Devlin: Out with the old, in with the new…Or so Sherry Thacker thinks. Problem is, her ex is always on her mind and right across the street. When a “Wet Down” ceremony to retire an old fire truck is planned by the city council she has to put aside her hurt and anger and do her job. Blake Thacker wants his wife back—in every way and he’ll use whatever means necessary to win her back. Sex is always best served WET.

Two to Spark ~ Marie Harte: When a psychic predicts that a faulty toaster, a black cat, and the wrong address will bring Cooper together with Ms. Right, he shrugs off the notion as crazy. But before long, fate has something else in store for the sexy firefighter when a spark of attraction ignites into true love.

Controlled Burn ~ Desiree Holt: Montana Wade was home after writing off the past ten years of her life, but she needed one more night of courage before she faced her family. Boone Crider, hotshot firefighter, was burned out form the rash of malicious fires. They thought one night as strangers would cure them both, but the fire they started between them soon became a barely controlled burn.

Up In Smoke ~ Lissa Matthews: Half-brothers, Josh and Jay, share everything from a house, to a love of curvy, older women. So when their dream woman accidentally sets her kitchen on fire, they ride to her rescue, sirens blaring, promising to kindle flames that may never be extinguished.

Rekindled ~ Cari Quinn: Some blazes refuse to be contained. It’s been months since ex-firefighter Katie Kemp has spoken to her former lover and squad mate, Dash Carlton. But when a late night drive down memory lane leads her to a small fire at Dash’s house, she realizes she’s not willing to turn her back on the hottest flame of her life.

Into the Fire ~ Shelli Stevens: Shannon has always prided herself on holding her own in the male dominated field of firefighting. She likes to be in control. Until she strikes a bargain with a sexy man from her past who makes her give it all up in the bedroom.

Pre-order your copy now ~ B&N ~ iBooks ~ Kobo  ~ All Romance eBooks


Feeding the Flames

© 2014 Leah Braemel

He lowered his head and kissed her again, taking his time to listen to every hitch of her breath. While they kissed, he let his hands range over her body, cupping her breasts, loving their warmth and their weight, how she moaned into the kiss with each stroke of his thumbs over her nipples.

She was just as busy exploring him, tugging his shirt from the waistband of his jeans, sliding her palms beneath. The heat of her hand, the gentleness of her touch drove him crazy. He pulled away, grasped the hem of the offending garment, tugged it over his head and dropped it on the floor beside her clothes.

Her eyes were almost black was she examined him. He stood still, letting her explore. It’s not like she’d never seen his chest before—but she’d never touched him, not like this. Her touch glanced over his pecs, blazed over the flat buds of his nipples, skated over his abs. Slowed at his fly. Which was now bulging from his aching hard-on.

She lowered his zipper to the base. The warmth and softness of her hands as she hooked her hands into the waistband of both jeans and boxer briefs had him biting his lips in a desperate effort at control. Slowly, methodically, she skimmed his pants over his hips, tugging his boxer briefs with them.

Freed of the restraint, his cock stood rigid and proud. Its head glistened, betraying how much he needed her.

The soft intake of her breath shot straight to his groin.

Touch me. Taste me. Suck me. Hell, all of the above.

Her fingers closed around his shaft. Christ, she was stripping his control and they’d barely started. A groan escaped him and she stopped. “Did I hurt you?”

“Anything but. You have no idea what a struggle I’m having right now to not pick you up, toss you on the bed and bury myself in you.”

No camera could capture the beauty of her smile when she glanced up at him and whispered, “So don’t fight it.”

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Patience is sexy.


Regardless of what we do, the tempo of the earth remains that of growing grass, ripening corn, meandering streams, and drifting leaves.~J. Frank Dobie, Cow People.

Patience. Not usually a word associated with being sexy. Indulge me just for a second. Patience is in integral part of most things we find breath-taking–sunsets, the grand Canyon, a giant Redwood forest, a glittering mountain lake, a new born baby–sometimes good things really do come to those who wait!

Put that virtue now in a pair of dusty, worn Wranglers, a pair of boots and a Stetson and suddenly patience takes on a whole new kind of sexy.

That’s not to say that patience is passive. On the contrary, it’s forward-moving, viable, hopeful…it sees an obstacle and figures a means to overcome it, perhaps just by nature takes its course, other times, waiting an idea forms into a clarity that takes us to the next step.

Passion and patience? Could there be two words which at first glance are so vastly apart in meaning? The men of the Kinnison Legacy are passionate men–make no mistake, and if you doubt, just ask the women who love them. These rugged ranchers, who from their teens were dealt severe tragedies that forced them into an unlikely bond of brotherhood.

Reared on a cattle ranch outside End of the Line, Montana–a small, booming mining town in its day–they are raised by a weathered bachelor rancher, who makes it his dying wish the ranch become a safe haven–a second chance–a place where folks in need of recovery, redemption, renewal can come and find their way through the beauty and support of the town, nature and hard work. Just as his ‘sons’ had.

The road to establishing their step-dad’s dream is by no means an easy one. Riddled with obstacles, both external and internal, each of the Kinnison men suffers loss, battles his own demons, reconciles his past and encounters both pain and pleasure along the way.

Patience. Passion. Perseverance.

They’ll need all three , each other, and the good folk of End of the Line to make the dream of the Last Hope Ranch a reality.

An Amazon best-selling contemporary cowboy romance series-

Rugged Hearts   Amazon

Rugged, quiet, hardworking, Wyatt takes his position as head of the Kinnison family seriously. But the scars of betrayal by the women to whom he once trusted his heart now prompt his stark, simple game plan, and no one in hell is going to convince him any differently. What matters most, besides the welfare of his brothers, is to manage the ranch left to him and never risk his heart again to something as foolish as love—but after meeting Aimee, Wyatt begins to realize that a man should never say never to a determined second grade teacher.

When vivacious, resilient Aimee Worth loses her twin sister in a tragic accident, she makes the choice to live out her sister’s dream of teaching in the small mountain community called End of the Line, Montana, never suspecting she’d meet her Mr. Right in the middle of nowhere—he just doesn’t know it yet. Used to challenges, her spirit shatters the perceptions that have kept him isolated from living life beyond the ranch, proving to him that when it comes to love, the greatest risk is not taking one.

Rustlers Heart   Amazon    Nook

Orphaned by tragedy, Rein Mackenzie was taken in by his benevolent uncle at the Kinnison ranch alongside two others abandoned at a young age. Now, he and his ‘brothers’ carry on Jed Kinnison’s dream of making the ranch a haven for those who need hope. But when a woman arrives claiming to be related to the Kinnisons, she brings danger—not only to his heart, but to those he calls family.

Liberty’s presence is a surprise to the family she’s never met, and while she yearns to belong, she knows her presence is a reminder of their painful past. Fearless, she dives in, losing her heart to the ranch, to the community, and to an unexpected summer fling.

But when dangers from her past catch up to her, they may cost her everyone and everything she has come to love

Renegade Heart  (2015)

Dalton Kinnsion knows he has a rep for being a renegade, choosing to grab life by the horns and to hell with the consequences. But ‘consequence’ has returned to the small town in the form of the raven-haired Angelique Juarez and the secret she wears like armor, if discovered, may well bring this rebel to his knees.

Angelique Juarez has hurdled obstacles all her life–the hardest was getting over bad-boy Dalton Kinnison. But she’s on her feet and her life is moving forward. Though temporarily back in End of the Line, she has no intent in returning to the shy, gullible girl she used to be. Recently reunited with her daughter, Angelique must steel her heart against the one man who could break it and the secret that could change all their lives.

Patience, passion and perseverance are three attributes I admire most in a cowboy. How about you? Share your fav attribute (keep it PG13!) .

Until next time~be kind,


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Get ready for another Naked Cowboy

The latest installment in the Naked Cowboys series is now up for preorder and goes live November 25. To celebrate, here’s a recap of the first four books and a teaser for the new one. And to celebrate, I’m giving away your choice of any of the first four books.

Stark NakedStarkNaked72lg

Reenie Davenport learned the hard way that men are cheating, promotion-thieving poison. A month after making a fresh start in Texas, she looks forward to taking a breather at her old college friend Amy’s family ranch. Instead, she’s left breathless when Amy’s very drunk, very sexy, very naked brother lands at her feet. Even as she hardens her heart, a small part of her wishes that quickly tossed towel would shift…just a little. When Matt Stark shows up at Reenie’s door to apologize, he can barely squeeze a word past her emotional barriers. Suddenly nothing else matters except convincing her not all men are clones of her ex. Sweet-talking her into lunch is only the beginning. One touch, and boom! Much to Reenie’s dismay, lunch ends in a hot, flaming dessert—in her bed. Shutting Matt out isn’t as easy as simply blowing out a match. Especially since this cowboy is equally determined to unlock her heart.

BuckNaked72lgBuck Naked

Amy Stark has it all together—except for chronic bad taste in men. She’s firmly in hands-off-all-men mode when a flat tire forces her to accept the help of exactly the type of man she’s sworn off. Arrogant, cocky and condescending. When she runs into him again later that day and then finds out her brother has invited him for dinner, the fire between them has a sizzle of a different kind. At eighteen, Buck Montgomery left home to make his mark on the bull-riding circuit. He may have had wild success in rodeo but his personal life is in the dust, and while he’s ready to start a new life he’s wary to expose his heart. Buck knows he should tell Amy the truth, but every time he opens his mouth, hers is right there with kisses like molten lava. When his past resurfaces at the worst possible time, Buck can only wonder if Amy will love the man he has become…or if the man he was will chase her away.

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Taking over as publisher of The Hill Country Herald was supposed to help Jinx Malone put her personal and professional disasters in New York behind her. Instead, she’s barely settled at her desk when news of a murder hits the police scanner. Who knew Rowan County could be this exciting? And who knew her first story would bring her into head-butting, hormone-pumping contact with something that’s an even bigger pain in her ass than a cheating ex—a know-it-all cop? Sheriff Dillon Cross thought retreating to Rowan Country would help him get over a bad case of burnout. But only a few weeks into his job, he’s standing over a dead body in a ditch, arguing with his least favorite thing: a sexy, in-your-face reporter. Before they’re through buzzing around each other like angry hornets, the last thing either expected happens. They’re in bed, burning up the sheets. But is it a new beginning, or just a bad rerun of past mistakes?

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Tired of the devious twists and turns of the corporate world, Georgie Zielinski takes her savings and her 401K to little Saddle Wells, Texas where she has bought a closed, rundown Bed & Breakfast. Using her knowledge of years in the hospitality business she plans to rehab the place and open her own B&B. Cade Hannigan was once on top of the world and disgustingly arrogant about it. Now he has fallen to the bottom of the barrel, working as the janitor at the Lone Star Bar and drinking himself to sleep every night. Cade loses his job at the exact moment that Georgie needs a handyman to help her with the B&B. They are a most unlikely pair, the world weary blond and the down and out cowboy, but electric sparks fly between them. As they work to bring to life the old building to life, something sexually explosive grows between them. Then Cade’s past comes back to slap him in the face and it all falls apart. It will take more than hot sex to put this couple back together. Come take a wild ride with a hot blonde and the latest naked cowboy.

One click takes you to all of the above:


And now…… Naked Desirenaked-desire

In Saddle Wells, she hopes to build a business—and maybe a new life—on the strength of that recipe. But she’s totally unprepared for her sizzling attraction to the artisan carpenter her new friends send her way. Jesse Orosco is ready to roll up his sleeves to renovate Cyn’s storefront, but it’s the self-doubt lurking in her beautiful eyes he wants to tackle first. The five-foot-nothing red-headed dynamo makes his mouth water, and not just because of the tantalizing aromas drifting from the back of her shop. The buzz about the rub’s mysterious ingredient has customers lining up for more, and soon everyone who tries it is making beautiful music in the bedroom—including Cyn and Jesse. But her reluctance to go public with their relationship—and someone in town with a jealous bone to pick—could drive a wedge between Cyn and her smoking-hot cowboy.


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All right – right off the bat – contest winners from last post are: Karen K Hrdlicka and daje90! You win a copy of LOVE’S MAGIG SPELL – email me at

I went to East Texas over the weekend to check on some property there – a house, some cows, some cats and the people who take care of it for me and when I got there, even though I had told them I was coming – I had no internet, no TV and no phone! So, I was forced to take something alien to me, something I don’t like, something I dread – run from – mistrust – – DOWNTIME!!!! Downtime for me is time that I’m not working. Time that I am not holding this dang laptop and writing or editing or juggling manuscripts and editors or some other form of the business. Now most people aren’t like me, they seek downtime, they plan for it, they schedule it, they crave it. Do you know why I’m not like that?


I feel like I have to work, I have to produce, I have to create or I’m letting someone down!

Now, the unusual thing is – or it’s probably not unusual, it’s just not something I count on. I AM MORE PRODUCTIVE AFTER DOWNTIME. Ideas come to me, I work out problems, I get neat plot twists during the downtime. Usually, the only leisure time I allow myself is when I’m in the shower – yea, the shower – so you can be assured I’m squeaky clean! Haha!

But this weekend, I was at a loss, I couldn’t work, I couldn’t watch Heart of Dixie, I couldn’t order from QVC or write or edit or talk to my Promo folks – I WAS ALONE WITH MYSELF!!!! HORRORS!

But, during that time, I plotted a new book. My mind relaxed and the ideas flowed so I guess I should do this more often. I also had a spooky experience. I heard my mother’s voice, she called me just as plain as day and I answered before I remembered she was gone. She’s been dead a long time. Has anything like that ever happened to you?

As you all know, I love this time of year. I’m preparing for Trick or treaters even though I might not have any, I’ve moved to a new neighborhood and I’m not sure how kids are conditioned out here as far as trick or treating goes – but I shall be prepared.

Tomorrow night – Monday the 27th – me and Beau Coup and Debbie our host, is presenting our first Gumbo Ya Ya radio show. It’s going to be spooky. I’m going to be there talking about my experiences and my philosophy on the supernatural and we also have Isobelle Cate, Helen Downing and Alicia Sparks. They share my esoteric outlook on life and like me, have had some wild things happen to them. One of these ladies owns a witch store and one got married in front of Marie LaVeau’s tomb! So we are quite a group!

I went to see Dracula last weekend and for Halloween, I’m going to watch a marathon of scaring movies. But I’m not going to leave you out – I have a marathon of appropriate reads to offer to you.

Here are covers, links and excerpts so you can line up these treats – no tricks I promise you.


jade wishing moon 

Arabella Landry is a witch on a mission. She is desperately seeking for the incredible lover that has been setting her dreams on fire. With the help of the powerful women in her family, she finds him. Unfortunately, he is completely paralyzed from a devastating rock-climbing accident.

Jade Landale, a conservative Texas Congressman falls head over heels for the beautiful woman that refuses to give up on him. Soon, his world turns topsy turvy as he finds himself embroiled in a world of magic, murder and the hottest, sweetest love-making imaginable.




Just the tip of his tongue parted her lips, feathery light, making her push closer, seeking to deepen the kiss. God, she wanted him. Breathing in his scent, she noticed he smelled of warm sunshine and salt spray. The palms of her hands moved feverishly over his golden skin, up over his broad shoulders and around his strong neck. His hair was long, the color of sunflower honey and she couldn’t resist winding her fingers in the strands at the back of his head, pulling him nearer to her. She fought the urge to wrap one leg around his hip in a soundless plea to be filled. A desperate hunger in her pussy made her tingle and ache.

Joy coursed through her bloodstream as he cupped her hips in his hands, first pulling her up hard against him, and then picking her up off the ground. Gratefully, she parted her legs and encircled his waist, pressing her soft center up against his rough jeans. Racing uncontrollably, her heart felt as if it were going to burst through her chest. His lips caressed her mouth, and wandered across her jaw and down the side of her neck. She gasped with passion, never had she felt so molten and eager. Arching her back, she met his gaze. Eyes, the color of a tiger’s eye jewel, framed with thick dark lashes feasted on her face. “Who are you?” she gasped.

Instead of the answer she longed for, he bent low and warmly nuzzled the top of her breasts with his lips. The gentle swell peeked from the top of the silk nightgown clinging damply to her fevered body. Muscles in her thighs contracted and she longed to thrust her hips against him.

Delightful stubble on his chin chafed her skin and Arabella reveled in the slight pain the friction generated. “Please…” she breathed. Allowing one hand to support her weight, he slid the other hand between their bodies and gently palmed the silk and lace providing a filmy barrier to paradise. When she offered no resistance, he pressed on, pushing the delicate material aside, slipping his strong fingers deep within her slit. Over and over again he massaged her clit, making her moan with desire. Unable to resist, she nipped the hard muscle of his shoulder, grazing the supple flesh with her teeth.

Light and heat exploded within her and she threw back her head crying out, as she convulsed in ecstasy. He pressed gentle lips to her ear and whispered, “Come to me.” The last thing she saw before reality dimmed was a full wishing moon shining bright in the velvet sky.


Arabella lifted her hips off the bed, searching in vain for someone who wasn’t there. Quaking with desire, she wrapped her arms around herself and tried to breathe. Lying still, she listened to the lonely sounds of silence. The house was quiet. She was all alone, as usual. How wonderful it would be to have someone in her life like that incredible man. She lay there for a moment and relished the sensations she had enjoyed in his arms. Never had she experienced a dream so intense, yet the climax still vibrating between her legs was definitely real.

Searching her memory, she relived the dream. Who was he? He seemed so familiar, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember where she would have known him from. Maybe the sense of recognition was just an after-effect of the incredibly erotic dream. A face and a body like his would have been impossible to forget. Hugging herself tightly, she fought to hold on to the memory of his touch. When she had awakened from the dream, finding herself alone had been sheer torture. Every fiber in her being longed for him, making her want to reach out and take him in her arms once again. Only, he wasn’t here.

How frustrating. Perhaps the time had come to find a real lover.

She flung the sheet off her body and sat up on the side of the bed. Slowly she stood, and steadied herself enough to walk to the bathroom. Pulling the silk gown over her head, she turned on the shower and faced herself in the vanity mirror. Lifting her long hair from her neck, she twisted the long honey colored strands into a knot and secured the heavy weight with a clip. Leaning closer to the mirror, she gasped. Flipping on the brighter overhead light, she could not believe her eyes or her fingers. Dream or no dream, her neck and upper chest was covered with a faint red rash; a rash left behind by her dream lover’s five o’ clock shadow.

The abrasions on her soft skin seemed to be evidence that more had happened in the twilight hours than just a dream. This intrigued her. How could this be possible? Could he be a real person? Could she return to his arms? The possibilities racing through her mind would have been unusual for most people. However, Arabella Landry was definitely not your typical twenty-four year old woman.

Arabella looked at life through different eyes. For her, the world was a magical place, where probability and certainty could be manipulated by sheer will, and forces existing beyond the bounds of imagination could be tapped into and used to create reality. She had been brought up accepting magick as a way of life.

When she viewed last night’s dream through the lens of magick, a whole new world of possibilities opened up. Something deep within her seemed to be convinced the Adonis with the incredible body actually lived and breathed. Arabella wanted to believe he was a flesh and blood man more than anything.

He had to be real. The words he had whispered were burned in her memory. “Come to me,’ he had said, and she intended to do exactly that…just as soon as she figured out how. She made her shower quick, and after towel drying her body, she slipped on jeans and a soft cotton top.

From the mirror, she could see the reflection of her bed. Nothing would have made her happier than to crawl back between its soft, welcoming sheets and dream. She wanted to see him again. Closing her eyes, Arabella remembered nestling against that incredible chest and clutching those shoulders, which were as broad as a bus. And his face! He had the face of an angel. Undeniably, her dream lover had to be the most powerfully built man she could ever remember seeing, touching, or kissing.

Arabella didn’t have a lot of experience with men. Opening up to people had always been difficult for her. So often when she tried, she’d been slapped down for her trouble. So far, she hadn’t been lucky enough to find a man who could accept her different lifestyle. How incredible it had been to see no judgment in his eyes, only acceptance and desire.

She wanted to hold on to every detail of last night’s dream. The desperation to do something to connect with the sexy phantasm bedeviled her until she realized she needed to make a sketch of him before a single detail of his beautiful face faded from her memory. She sped down the stairs and found her sketchbook. Flipping on the coffee pot, she hopped up on a bar stool and began to draw…him. High cheekbones, chiseled features, soft hair, well-defined abs and steel-strong legs all added up to much more than a sum of his parts. The smoldering look she added to his face came straight from her mind’s eye. Arabella ran her fingers over the drawing, remembering how caressing his skin felt. Propping the sketchpad up on the bar, she poured herself a cup of strong, fragrant coffee. Adding sugar and cream, she stirred the mixture and licked the spoon, all the while studying the portrait she had quickly drawn. He still looked vaguely familiar.

A sense of urgency washed over her. How could she just go about the tasks of the day after last night’s experience? How could she think of anything else but him?


Jade Landale was a prisoner in his own body. Just a few weeks ago, he had been vibrant, alive and free. Now, he might as well be dead—in fact, he fantasized about escaping this nightmare. Paralyzed from his neck down, he couldn’t even swallow on his own. Communication proved to be impossible. Reese had tried, he had continued to ask him questions and instructed him to blink if he understood, but the doctors were not the least bit encouraging. They kept using the term catastrophic injury. Apparently, this time he had really screwed up. Kate had been after him to give up the extreme sports he loved so well, she said his career needed to come first. But he loved the feeling of scaling a sheer rock wall or free diving in the depths of the sea. She told him he would end up killing himself, and, apparently, she’d been right.

Since the diagnosis, Kate had only been in to see him twice and the last time she made an appearance, Jade could tell she’d given up on him. She couldn’t even bring herself to touch his hand. His girlfriend had always been overly squeamish. Apparently, she didn’t have the stomach for a fiancé who might never be more than a vegetable. Despite what Reese told her about the blinking, Kate didn’t believe he could hear her or understand her. Frankly, he wished he had the opportunity to tell her how hard conveying a message to someone who wouldn’t look you in the eye could be. Dr. Reynolds did not want to give up on him; he had said more tests needed to be done before they could be positive of Jade’s prognosis. One of the other doctors assisting on his case said he wasn’t sure Jade was cognizant of his surroundings at all. But he was, much to his dismay—he was, achingly, aware of everything.

The realization of his situation terrified Jade. He screamed endlessly in his head. Over and over, he relived the moment when the bolt failed and he had fallen from one of the sheer faces of E-Rock. He’d known from the moment he landed so brutally and awkwardly at the base of the cliff that his situation was bad. Blessedly, he had only remained conscious for a few moments before passing out. From the moment he regained consciousness, he had known something was horribly wrong, because he felt nothing—absolutely nothing.

The only relief Jade found were his dreams. When he closed his eyes and slept, he could walk and talk and hope and believe that somehow this nightmare would soon be over. Reese and other members of his staff still refused to believe fate could be so cruel. After all, they had pinned their hopes on him being the next governor of the great state of Texas. Now unless a miracle came along, all of his dreams had come to an end.

While a nurse turned him from side to side, giving him a sponge bath, he escaped to a better place deep within his own mind. Last night, he had experienced a particularly intense and strange dream. He had been back on Enchanted Rock—not climbing this time, but with a woman—an amazingly beautiful woman. His dream body had reacted instantly to her, and without the expectations of reality, he had enjoyed her in ways he knew he would probably never enjoy a woman again. She had been so lovely and so very responsive.

Dreams were his only solace, now. He much preferred an alternate reality to this one. The land where he escaped to when he closed his eyes reminded him of something his great grandmother used to tell him. The only daughter of a Cherokee medicine man, she carried with her the old ways and the old beliefs. She used to tell him that even though her body had grown stiff and uncooperative with age, at night—in her dreams—she went to places she could no longer go and did things she was no longer capable of doing. She had called the odd phenomenon ‘walking on the wind’. Maybe, that’s what he had been doing. One thing he knew, his dreams sure beat the hell out of where he was now. He shut his eyes and left the room.


A plan began to formulate in Arabella’s mind, things her mother and grandmother had taught her. Quickly she grabbed a pad and pen and made a list of items she could use to insure she returned to the dream state where she had left her dream lover. Hastily, she wrote.



Amethyst gemstone

Purple mojo bag

Purple candle

Everything in her longed to get started now, but going back to bed immediately after rising wouldn’t accomplish the rest of the day’s work. With reluctance, she laid aside the note for later in the day and reached for her datebook. Arabella kept an extensive journal where she wrote everything down. She flipped open the book, which served as part almanac, part Book of Shadows and a place to record her daily to-do lists. Turning to the correct page, she checked what was on the agenda for the day. A lot.

Arabella was proud of all she had accomplished, but keeping up with everything was a challenge. Since graduating from the University of Texas in Austin with a degree in computer science, she had built a successful home business from the bottom up. Combining her green thumb, her magical acumen, and considerable computer skill, she had founded Wildflower Way. Her brainchild is a company that sells dried herbs, oils, tinctures and herbal formulas, which she created for a number of health issues. In her own way, she helped people with their rheumatism, allergies, low energy and headaches. Sketching and drawing were also passions of hers and she designed a catalogue, labels and seed packets to complement the products Wildflower Way offered to the consumer.

Her home in the Texas Hill Country was an oasis of lush gardens, greenhouses and enchanted paths, which connected small rustic buildings where she dried herbs and flowers and concocted the potions she packaged and shipped to satisfied customers across the country. Arabella took pride in her gardens and appreciated people stopping by just to look in amazement at the varied plantings she maintained. Some would ask for the secret to her green thumb, but she had no answer for them. She could hardly tell them her mother’s explanation—Elizabeth said the garden of a good witch always flourishes.  Glancing at the date—it hit her—today was a special holiday. December 21st, the winter solstice was a sacred time when candles were lit and future plans were made. Tonight, her grandmother, Nanette Beaureguarde would scry the future—something she did on this, one of the most magical nights on the wheel of the year. All of the family knew they would hear from her if she saw anything of interest. But in the meantime, Arabella had Yule preparations to make. The whole Beaureguarde clan planned to come to her house for the holidays, so there was plenty of baking, shopping and decorating to be done.

Wildflower Way was a special place during each of the seasons, and winter, especially so. Arabella spent days stringing thousands of little white lights through the trees and putting out dozens of peanut butter pinecones to attract the birds. By the time she was through, her home was a wonderland. She enjoyed this time of year so much. Elation filled her heart; she had so much to look forward to. And today was Sunday, so she could do exactly what she pleased. Any orders to be filled could easily wait for the next day.

Once again, her hand moved to her neck to linger on the light abrasions, which were still present. The small bumps were the only real link she possessed to the incredibly intriguing man who haunted her every thought. Stop! she chided herself, all of this dreaming will just have to wait until later.



eric sweet evangeline

Evangeline is magical. She longs to find her soulmate – and being a woman of power – she whips up a spell and conjures him up. Austin Firefighter Eric McCallister is enchanted by the beautiful woman who sculpted his likeness from a dream. Immediately, their attraction and chemistry burns like a wildfire. But, all is not a fairy-tale. An arsonist is stalking Eric and someone is trying to kill Evangeline. On top of that, there’s magick afoot that can call down storms, bring the dead back to life and break ancient curses. But, the greatest magick of all is the love Eric has for Sweet Evangeline.



The class assignment had been to create the perfect man.

As a witch, she should have known better. But it had been so much fun.

No, this wasn’t Hogwarts. The project was for a final grade in the Advanced Sculpting Class at the University of Texas in Austin. And since Evangeline had all of these powers just lying around, she decided to cheat. If she were going to sculpt the perfect man, she wanted it to be her perfect man. After all, it was somewhat a tradition for the women in the Beaureguarde clan to seek out the face of their beloved. Her grandmother, Nanette had seen her grandfather’s face in waters obtained from an old well dug by slaves down in New Iberia Parish, near Bayou Teche. So, why shouldn’t she try? All she wanted to do was look. There couldn’t possibly be any harm in that. Could there?

The more she thought about it, the more excited she became. Up to this point in her life, men had just not been a factor. Despite what some would call her wild pagan ways, Evangeline was an old-fashioned girl. She was a romantic. As pathetic as it might sound, she was saving herself for the man of her dreams. And so far, he had kept himself very well hidden. Now that she had decided to tempt herself with his face, she couldn’t think of anything else. The Summer Solstice was at hand and according to her Book of Shadows, there was no better time for this exciting experiment.

God, she was hot! She stood in the dark and listened to the creaking of the old house as it settled on its piers. Living off campus hadn’t been a mistake; she needed the room for her sculpting. But still, the nights were almost unbearable. It was the incessant heat! Austin was under a heat wave advisory and the air conditioning did little to cool the poorly insulated house. But that wasn’t the heat that kept Evangeline Martel awake; it was the heat of desire that flowed through her body.

Evangeline cast a circle and then sat down in the middle of it. Despite her initial enthusiasm, this had not been an easy decision. Evangeline knew love spells were not to be taken lightly. Through the years, she had seen lonely women come to her grandmother, seeking assistance in finding true love or holding on to a man who was ready to pull up stakes and move on. Love spells could back-fire on you. So, Evangeline had to be very careful.

He was out there. She could feel him. Their paths had not crossed; she would have known, she would have recognized him. And she longed to see his face. Tonight, she would.

Sipping a tea made from orange peel and meadowsweet, she closed her eyes and willed herself into a trance like state. Holding her palms upward, she hummed—just a couple of notes—a melodic, poignant repetition that settled her mind and opened her spirit to the powers surrounding her. When she felt she had made a connection to the Goddess, she lit a red candle and uncovered the black scrying mirror that lay before her.

Placing her hands over the mirror, but not touching the surface she began to speak.

“Mirror of power, show me his face

Show me my true love, through time and space

Bring me his image, revealed in your light

Share with me your vision, bring him to my sight.

Slowly, she moved her hands away. At first the surface of the mirror was smooth, but then it was as if it became fluid and a mist seemed to rise from the depths of the blackness. A light began to glow from deep within the reflection. Evangeline’s heart began to race and her blood was rushing so fast it roared in her ears. She leaned over the mirror, her long dark hair creating an ebony curtain on either side of her face. “Come on sweetheart, let me see you,” she spoke to him as if he could hear her.

A form began to appear. It moved closer, slowly, as if coming from a long distance. Evangeline closed her eyes, willing him to come to her. “Come on, baby, I’ve waited for you so long.” She opened her eyes. And gasped.

An image was in the mirror. It was a man, and he . . .was . . .beautiful. No human being should be so perfect. “Please, let him be real.” she prayed. He didn’t look real. He looked like an angel. Angel. Until she had a name, that was what she would call him. Hair of gold, eyes of green, a body that Adonis would die for, and he would be hers? “Come to me, love. I can’t wait to hold you.” Her grandmother would faint at the sacrilege, but Evangeline couldn’t help herself, she bent down and kissed the surface of the scrying mirror. Because right now, it was as close as she could get.


Evangeline Martel could never leave well enough alone. Now that she had seen Angel, she wanted him. As her hands fashioned the clay, they itched to touch his skin. As her fingers molded his muscles, they longed to knead his flesh. She had it bad. If she were a regular girl, she would have sighed with longing and endured. But she wasn’t. What was the use of possessing ancient tomes of wisdom if they just lay on the shelf to catch dust?

On the second floor of the small house she rented Evangeline had made a ‘craft room’. The thought made her laugh. So many Martha Stewart wannabe’s had craft rooms filled with hot glue guns, paper cutters, beads and such. However, her craft room was different. It was full of herbs, oils, gemstones and candles. A rug lay on the floor that was inscribed with a circle. Next to the window, a small altar sat that held her bell, her Book of Shadows and a beautiful pentagram carved from a sacred oak. Bookshelves lined the walls, each level laden down with books concerning the craft. The types of magick represented were myriad—there was Celtic, Hoodoo, Voodoo, and Santeria, even Egyptian. There were books on the magical uses of herbs and the proper way to use crystals. Far Eastern knowledge was also represented with books on Reiki and chakras. If a spell was needed, Evangeline had no excuse.

Sitting on the floor, she thumbed through a likely volume. Yes, here it was. ‘How To Call Your Dream Lover To You’. Perfect.

Evangeline lay alone in her bed and longed for a man.

Not just any man would do, it had to be him. She closed her eyes and willed him to come to her. She wasn’t dreaming, she wasn’t even asleep. Evangeline was wide-awake and desperately hungry for his touch. Her eyes went to the closed door of her bedroom. She imagined it opened slowly.

Someone was standing there, in the shadows.

‘Oh Goddess, please let it be him,’ she breathed. The figure stepped forward and her body began to tingle. It was Angel! He had heard her heart’s cry. He had come.

Her eyes devoured him. His chest and shoulders were massive, yet he was lean and hard and muscled to perfection. A pair of jeans, low slung, covered powerful thighs and tight hips. But what caused the cleft between her legs to dew with excitement was the blatant evidence of his desire for her. Angel was immensely aroused, his erection straining the threads that kept it bound.

She came to her knees on the bed and held her hand out to him, pleading for him to come closer. Her dark blue eyes, the color of the Caribbean Sea at twilight, locked with eyes of the deepest forest green. “Angel, I need you so.” At first glance, his face appeared hard and unyielding, with high cheekbones and a strong jaw line. But his lips were sensuous and when he smiled at her, a hint of a dimple next to his mouth made her want to probe the tiny well with her tongue.

“Do you want me, love?” he asked, seemingly sure of her answer. He came to her, placing one knee on the bed next to her, pulling her body close to his. Evangeline’s breathing grew ragged. She clung to him, pressing her needy breasts to his rock-hard chest.

“I am desperate for you,” she confessed. She let her tongue play over his chest, circling his nipples, nipping at the defined pecs. Her hands were not still. She feverishly caressed his shoulders, slid her palms down his arms, around his waist and up his back. He moaned his enjoyment, his hands cupping her hips, kneading. Pulling her tightly against him, his own hips begin to buck slowly against her, pushing rhythmically, making her know exactly what he wanted—to be inside of her.

Breaking the embrace, she pulled her own gown over her head, anxious to feel his hot skin rub against her own fevered body. “Take these off,” she urged, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, pushing them down his hips. Her hands cupped him through the cotton briefs, tracing the living evidence of his manhood. “I love how your cock jumps in my hand.” In answer to her caress, he ripped the jeans and briefs from his legs, giving her full access to all that he was. She pushed him back on the bed and knelt over him. “I can’t get enough of you.” She took him in her hand, marveling at the length and breadth of him. “You are so thick. I cannot tell you much I want you to push deep inside of me, stretching me, filling me. I ache for you.” He tried to sit up, as if he would take control. But she would not have it, not yet. She took him in her hand, rubbing his shaft up and down, letting her other hand gently massage his sac, a growl escaping from his lips as she teased his round, hard balls. She couldn’t keep her mouth off him. He tasted salty, musky, and manly. Her tongue tickled the large, mushroom-shaped head of his penis. But that wasn’t enough. He pushed it up toward her lips, and she gave him what he longed for. She took as much of him into her mouth as she could, letting her tongue and lips feast on him. Setting a pace that was designed to drive him mad, she moved her mouth up and down his rod until he lifted her from him, laid her back and rose over her.

“Are you ready for me?” He cupped her pussy; the creamy wetness he found was a testimony to her excitement.

“Completely.” Evangeline closed her eyes, lifted her hips and relished the exquisite thrill that rushed through her when he began to enter her trembling depths. “Oh, Angel, I’ve dreamed of this for so long!” She flexed her inner muscles, drawing him deeper, hungrily pulling him in, until he was buried completely—their joining a merging of minds and hearts, as well as bodies. “How does this feel?” she asked as she undulated her hips, milking his shaft with the contractions of her inner muscles.

“Amazing.” He leaned over her, drinking from her lips, scorching her neck with hot, wet kisses, and then blazing a trail from the hollow of her throat to the peak of a plump, swollen nipple that throbbed with need. He wet her nipple with his tongue, blew his heated breath on it, causing it to thrust upward seeking his attention. “Do you want me to suck them, love?”

“Oh, please.” He gave her relief, opening his lips wide, taking as much of her breast into his mouth as he could. Then he began to pull on the areola, creating a mind-blowing suction that spiraled directly to her clit, forcing a groan from her lips. He laved the swollen bud with his tongue, and then he began to move. In and out, in and out, increasing the rhythm until she was mad with sensation. He held her up, moved to her other breast and gave it the same heart-melting attention. All the while, he was plunging, pumping, rocking, thrusting, pleasuring her until she arched off the bed and shuddered in unspeakable ecstasy.

The contractions of her climax went on and on, spurring him toward his own explosion of heat and light. “Oh, Angel, I love you so.” She held her arms up to him, ready to draw him down for a sweet, deep kiss.

But her hands closed over nothingness. He was not there, he never had been.


“Holy Shit!” Eric McAllister woke up from the wettest dream he had ever had. Lord, you’d think he was sixteen years old, again. Damn! To be honest, he had never had a dream like this at sixteen or since then. He looked down at himself and the sheets. Laughing at his predicament, he began extricating himself from his bed linens. Cum was everywhere, he had exploded in the most thunderous orgasm of his life. Desperately he tried to hang on to the feeling, to the touch of those hands, to the velvety rasp of her tongue. God in heaven, she had been the hottest lay in he had ever—and it had all been a dream.

He crawled reluctantly from his bed. It seemed that if he closed his eyes and held out his arms she would come to him. Long dark hair, creamy soft skin, big ole’ navy blue eyes and the most delightful body he had ever wrapped himself around. What blew his mind was that it had been so damn real! He could still feel the heat of her pussy on his cock. She had squeezed him like a vise. Never in his fairly vast sexual experience had he felt like this. He was milked, drained, thoroughly wrung out to dry. Every cell in his body was vibrating with earth-shaking, mind-blowing lust.

Walking to the bath, he flipped on the light and stared at himself in the mirror. “Hell, if I could meet that sweetheart in my dreams every time, I would go to a doctor and demand to be put into a permanent coma.” Letting his eyes drift shut, he remembered how she had went wild, taking control, pushing him back on the bed, straddling him, sucking on his nipples. God, she had nearly devoured him. And speaking of nipples, her breasts had been succulent, he had latched on to those hard little nubbins and sucked to his heart’s content. The sexiest thing was—the more he gave—the more she wanted.

Now, that was a woman. He hated to compare a dream girl to the real woman he had been dating. Unfortunately for Jessica, she fell far short of the hot little angel who loved him so hard in his dream. Her voice had been husky and wanton, and she had the sexiest braid of long thick hair that he had used to anchor her in place as he had drilled into her with gusto. The scary part of this whole thing was that sex for him might never be the same—now that he had had the best—how was he ever going to settle for less?

Even hours later, Eric McAllister was still restless. After cleaning himself up and changing the bed linens—he finally admitted to himself there was something missing from his life. It was haunting him; an aching, yawning void that left his soul yearning for…for…for what he didn’t exactly know.

Not being able to sleep, he climbed from his bed and walked to the window. Looking out over the Austin skyline, he tried to pinpoint his dissatisfaction. To anyone observing his life, he had it all. He had a good job as a firefighter for the Austin Fire Department and was next in line for a promotion. He had been honored by the city for bravery beyond the call of duty, not once but twice. A diploma hung on his wall from his beloved University of Texas, and when he grew tired of battling blazes, he could delve into any number of careers with his degree in Psychology.

His love life was satisfactory, for the most part. Of course after tonight, the bar had been raised to an unbelievable height. Who would have thought his own subconscious could produce such unbelievable ecstasy? Or was there more to it than that?

For years, Eric had prided himself in being firmly grounded in reality. ‘What you see is what you get.’ He was a student of the ‘if you can’t see it, touch it, taste it, or smell it, then you can’t prove it by me’ mentality. In some ways, he had even rejected his father’s super spiritual mind-set. Eric only wanted to deal in the absolutes of life. However this dream he had, uh—enjoyed, last night—this dream was pushing the boundaries for him. He wanted his nighttime ecstasy to be more than a dream—he needed this to be more than a dream. In fact from now on, Eric knew he would look for this girl. His eyes would scan every crowd, every car he passed on the freeway, every woman he passed on the street. It might not make logical sense, but it was the way it was going to be. The tiny taste of paradise he had enjoyed last night in her arms only made his appetite ravenous for more.

Settling down hadn’t been high on his agenda; he made a practice of keeping it light. The woman he was currently seeing was absolutely gorgeous. She inspired more jealousy and envy among the men he worked with than Angelina Jolie would have, but even with that something was missing. Yea, and now what was missing had a face—and breasts, and legs and the hottest, sweetest little pussy in the universe. Shit!

Eric loved sex. He loved everything about sex, and like any typical, healthy twenty-eight year old male, he couldn’t get enough. Despite Jessica’s looks, she merely tolerated their physical relationship. Although this was beginning to get old, Jessica’s coldness wasn’t the root of his problem. Eric wanted more.

More. More. To be honest, he wanted laughter and companionship. He wanted passion, the kind of desire that one bout of good sex couldn’t satisfy. Eric wanted to be the center of someone’s universe; he wanted a woman to look at him as if he hung the moon. He wanted to be pursued, seduced, cherished and pleasured. “You don’t want much, do you?” Eric laughed at himself—here he was, standing in the nude, looking out at the velvety night, his cock getting hard for the nameless woman of his dreams. Bottom line—Mr. No Nonsense Eric McAllister was looking for a little magic in his life.



Tory has one magical night to learn what love is all about.

Night after lonely night, she tosses in her solitary bed, longing to touch and be touched, to experience desire and rapture. Her body aches to know fulfillment, to be taken and possessed by a man—but only one man will do.

Raylan West is the man of her dreams, and Tory Summers would give everything she owns for a chance with him. But it isn’t going to happen—a man like him is not for her. Unless…Tory finds a way.

 Deep in the bayous of South Louisiana there are secrets, magical secrets. Hoodoo. Witchcraft. Will-o’-the-wisp floating over dark waters, lit by unearthly light. 

Desperate for a chance, Tory places her faith in the supernatural. She travels deep into the swamp to acquire a love potion promised to bring Raylan under her spell for one night, one perfect moonlit Halloween night where anything is possible. For a few precious hours, Tory will be beautiful, desirable, and sexy in Raylan’s eyes.

The only problem is…Tory wants the magic to last forever. 






“Tory, I need coffee.” Raylan announced as he came through the door, locking it. He walked to her desk, took her by the arm, and pulled Tory to her feet. “After I have you…”

Relief that he was safe swept over her body. “I’m so glad you’re back. I was worried.”

“Show me how glad you are,” he growled as he ran his fingertips underneath her shirt, pushing it up and over her head.

“Give me your hand, Sheriff.” He allowed her to guide his fingers between her legs. Even through the material she knew he could feel her heat. “See how much I missed you?”

Raylan took advantage of where she placed his hand and cupped her, massaging the soft place between her thighs, causing Tory to cling to his shoulders and go up on her tiptoes, wanting more.

“Have you been a good girl while I was gone?”

“No, Sheriff,” she drawled. “I’ve been a bad girl. I’m behind on my typing and filing because all I can do is fantasize about you.”

“Consider yourself under interrogation. What kind of fantasies?” While he spoke to her, Raylan was busy kissing her neck and backing Tory from her desk toward the jail cell wall.

“I feel so guilty.” She panted. “I’ve been plotting to get you into some…compromising positions. On top of me, under me, behind me…in me.”

Sheriff Raylan West chuckled. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you into custody.” He pushed her till her back was against the enclosure, then he lifted her hands above her head and fastened a pair of cuffs around her wrists, attaching them to the bars.

“Yea,” she moaned as he pulled her bra down and cupped her tits, squeezing them, lapping at her breast. “Oh, that’s good. I think you should…” She stopped talking because she couldn’t think while he was sucking her nipples.

“What should I do to you?”

“I think you should f-frisk me.”

He pushed aside her panties. “What is this I feel?”

“That’s my fleur,” she purred. “I had it trimmed especially with you in mind. You love the Saints, and I love you.”

“Damn.” He traced the design with his finger.    

Tory licked her lips. “I’m at your mercy, Raylan,” she whispered in his ear. “I think I’ve committed a penile offence.”

“Oh, really?” Raylan laughed.

“How about a full body search?” She suggested breathlessly.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Their lips crashed together, tongues tangling, gasping for breath. He pulled down her panties and tugged them off, tossing them to one side. “Spread ‘em, sweetheart.”

Tory cooperated fully. Freeing his cock, Raylan placed a hand under each knee and lifted her, impaling Tory in one full, fluid thrust of his hips. “Yes, Raylan!” she cried as he began hammering into her soft, wet pussy.

“Harder, harder.” She panted, wrapping her legs around his waist.


Tory blinked, her daydream suddenly brought to a halt.

“Tory, I need coffee.” Raylan stalked into the front office, slamming the door. Tory didn’t jump, she was used to his grand entrances.

Pushing aside her sexy fantasy, she brought herself back to the boring reality. “You need more than coffee, just sit down and I’ll bring you something.” As she brewed him a cup dark enough to be espresso, Tory warmed a beignet in the microwave and let out a long sigh of relief. He was back. He was safe. She could breathe again. “How did it go?”

“Rance Bertrand is crazy. How do you think it went?” Raylan sighed, sitting down at his desk. He propped his feet up on the top drawer, which was open just enough to accommodate his size 12 alligator skin boots.

She sat the coffee and pastry on his desk in front of him. “Here, it’s hot. Be careful.”


Tory returned to her chair and watched Raylan gingerly bite the beignet so the steam wouldn’t burn his mouth. “I’m just glad he didn’t shoot you. The man lives so deep in the swamp, he thinks the long arm of the law doesn’t reach that far.” She tried not to let fear for his safety reflect in her eyes. Hiding the fact that she was in love with Raylan West was a full time job.

“He knows something, Tory. Getting him to talk to me will be the hard part. He’s seen something, but all I got out of him today was tales of the rougarou and swamp lights.”

“My dad always said the Atchafalaya was a place of secrets.” Tory’s family had lived in Bella for four generations. Her dad had worked for the county, building roads. “He always said that all those folks traveling from Houston to New Orleans passing over our eighteen mile bridge across the basin have no idea that below them is two thousand square miles of swamp that time forgot.”

“I’ve lived here all of my life and I’ve seen a lot of strange things. This is a beautiful land of bald cypress and spreading water oaks. Why, I’ve seen snakes as big around as my arm and alligators fifteen foot long. There’s a prehistoric feeling in the swamp, like you’re stepping back in time.” Washing the rest of the beignet down with a sip of coffee, he stood and walked to the window. “Unfortunately, the giant reptiles aren’t the most dangerous thing in the Atchafalaya anymore.”

“Like Gar Arceneaux and his boys?” Tory asked without blinking an eye.   She’d heard rumors of meth labs and drug deals. “You can hide a lot of evil in a marsh this big.”

Raylan moved quickly, gracefully, like a big lion. One moment he was at the window, the next he was leaning over her desk. “A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t even know people like Gar Arceneaux exist. You should be spending your time thinking about what dress you’re gonna wear to the fais do-do, not contemplating the actions of dangerous thugs.”



This is a link to our test radio show – Debbie is interviewing me and there’s some good stuff, some funny stuff and some pretty scary accents going on there –


Thank you so much!



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The first cowboy to fall…Plus a paranormal release!

EDITED: Random WINNER is:   suzlyne
Congratulations! Look for an email from Amazon! A big thank you to all who participated!

Hello everyone! How’s your October going? I’m loving the fall foliage up in NE PA, although, I just got back from ARC-Phoenix and miss the warmth!
Today, I have two releases to tell you about.

The first cowboy to fall…

That’s the tagline to my upcoming release from my Harland County Series. I’m going back to the beginning in this holiday novella which tells the story of Jen and Brock before Cody was born. So, this means there’s no Cole and Jordan, Connor and Kerri, Kade and Brandi, or Kevin and Shayla. The cowboys are unruly and lots of fun!


Accounting major Jen has oHarlandCountyChristmasfrontcover500x750ne more year before she graduates and moves out of Harland County to find a corporate job and maybe a good-looking businessman to boot. Cowboys were handsome and fun, but they didn’t stick. Neither did ranch hands. Experience has taught her they come and go, and some took a piece of her heart with them. Well, no more handsome, sexy, cowboys. She wanted a stay around, stable, lifetime type of guy.

Then she returns to the family ranch for the summer to discover Brock, the hot, one-night stand she’d given herself permission to enjoy right after finals, is the new ranch hand. And dang it, she’s just as drawn to his sexy grin, gorgeous green eyes and quiet strength. As the summer ends, classes resume, and the holidays near, the handsome, alpha cowboy has her rethinking her future. So does the unborn baby she’s carrying. Maybe sticking around Harland County isn’t so bad—if she could get Brock to stay, and break out of the ‘leave Jen and move on to another ranch’ mold.


~~~♥~~~                      ~~~♥~~~                      ~~~♥~~~

Since it’s October and we love things that go bump in the night, okay, besides cowboys, I dusted off a paranormal I had on my hard drive, and last week, I released ROYALLY UNLEASHED, the first book in the Royally Unleashed Series. My heroine is a kick-ass empath who hunts the supernatural if they pose a threat to humanity. Her path crosses three handsome princes who, of course, are more than they seem. And because I like things a little different, I made the hero a Grim—a big, black dog with glowing red eyes that delivers justice. Sirius Black was one in Harry Potter.

When Grim justice is…


Black Wolf (Canis lupus) Stands on Den Rocks - captive animalEmpath, Pilar Kempe’s desire to keep the world safe and find her missing cousin, leads her to a royal palace full of lies, deceit and a prince capable of igniting her own primal need. Inherently distrustful of royalty, Pilar finds the Nicorov brothers no different when her empathic abilities pick up on half truths, lies and dark secrets. So why does she have this urge to get primal with the devastatingly attractive oldest brother, Duncan? She can tolerate his arrogance, and even the possibility of his connection to the supernatural realm, but what Pilar can’t accept is his title—Prince. She’s learned, the hard way, they are not to be trusted.

Deliverer of justice, Pavelonian prince, Duncan Nicorov, struggles to keep his dark secret and that of his family while helping a huntress search for her missing cousin. Oldest of three brothers and first in line for the throne, Duncan takes guarding his family and their secrets very serious, so why is he drawn to Pilar, the sexy empath, knowing the danger she poses to his family and his heart? Sensing her attraction only adds fuel to his already blazing desire. Would she still feel the same if she knew his secret and what really happened to her cousin?



One random commenter will win a $5 Amazon Gift Card! I’d just like to know if you’ve ever heard of a Grim/big black dog. I found the lore quite fascinating. Did you notice the barely there hunk in my cover? Or maybe you’d like to tell me what you’re expecting to happen to Brock in Harland County Christmas. Just leave a comment and good luck!☺

Thanks for reading,


Donna Michaels
Author of Romaginative Fiction
Romance through the H’s-Hot, Humorous & Heartwarming

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Casting Call!! And a PRIZE! by Cynthia D’Alba

EDITED:  Prize Winner – therese lopez

Therese – Contact me for your prize!

Hi all! Cynthia D’Alba here. Whew! Since I’ve last been here, I’ve finished physical therapy for my knee replacement AND turned in my second round of edits for Texas Bossa Nova. I was hoping to share the cover (which is AWESOME) but so far I don’t have permission from my publisher. :(   Maybe next month!

But I WILL share the blurb!

Texas Montgomery Mavericks, Book 5, TEXAS BOSSA NOVA

Magda Hobbs’s job as ranch housekeeper—and its daily dose of cowboys—wreaked havoc on her libido. Especially one certain cowboy she couldn’t resist. Scared of going down the same path as her mother, Magda jumped on her motorcycle and hit the road.

Five months later, her father’s mild heart attack has forced her back to Whispering Springs. While she’s grateful for the cleaning job at one of the Montgomery ranch houses, she’s not so thrilled one of the cowboys she’s looking after is the one she fell for last spring.

Reno Montgomery’s parents hiring a housekeeper for him and his brother is a nice surprise, but he’s shocked to discover it’s Magda, the woman who up and left just when things were getting serious between them.

When a freak snowstorm cuts off the outside world, the isolation rekindles their desire. But when the weather and the roads clear, Reno has to work hard and fast to keep the woman of his dreams from accelerating right out of his life again.

Texas Bossa Nova is coming March 2015, so be sure to put it on your TBR list!

Now, the casting call…If YOU were writing a western romance, what actor (or model) would be your hero inspiration and what actor (or model) would be your heroine inspiration?

I’ll pick one winner from the comments. Winner can chose the prize! Options are…digital copy of any Texas Montgomery Maverick book, a quilted mug rug/coaster or a pair of Christmas Coasters.

Since Halloween is almost upon us, I’ll share my latest ear worm!

Posted in Contest, Cowboys - Media Inspired | Tagged , , | 44 Comments

Christi Williams is Getting It Right – Your Chance at a $50 Gift Card


book blast


sensual contemporary Western romance 

Getting It Right


Christi Williams


Last of a long line of agrarian witches, Selene

Pertunda thinks she will never meet the right man…until with the help of a

little magic, she finds Beck McNeal.




Named for

the Goddess of Desire, can she dream of lasting happiness with only one man?


Selene Pertunda has no trouble attracting a man. She just can’t seem to

find the right one. From abusive husband Robert to tattooed bad boy lover

Kevin, Selene draws men to her like bears to her honeypot. The problem is that

none of them proves to be a good fit.


Sure she will never find a shared happiness, Selene has no way to suspect

she’s drawn the attention of a powerful goddess. So she scoffs at the idea that

the handsome man who begins to  play a large part in her life could be her

destiny.  After all, what could worldly, educated Beck McNeal want with a

small-town girl like Selene?


Selene and Beck try to their best to resist the inexplicable mutual

magnetism flaring between them. But can two ordinary people avoid the decree of

the Goddess of Desire?

Getting It Right

is the first novel-length work in

the Wyoming Series of contemporary romances by Christi Williams.

Click this Amazon pre-order link for Getting It Right!


Other books by Christi Williams:

   “To the One I Never Forgot” is a short story that

launched the Wyoming Series. Gianna and Zack were too young for love

when they were separated. Now, all grown up, can Gianna be reunited with the

one she never forgot?

   Christi Williams is also the author of two novels and a

novella in the Hawk Point Romances series. Take a Chance on Love is the story of the

chance encounter of widow Chancie de Leur and hot Wyoming Highway Patrol

trooper Micah Taylor. Perilous Promises is Perris and Noah Dalton’s

story of recovery from breast cancer and the effort to revive their formerly

wonderful marriage. The novella Clay’s Quest is the tale of a hot

Wyoming cop who comes up with a wacky plan to save his marriage when he just

won’t accept that his beautiful wife wants to find someone else to father her



Christi writes sensual, entertaining love stories of

unforgettable modern Western men and women. Readers say…Sensual: “Taken

a touchy subject and made it heartfelt and humorous, but she’s made it

H.O.T.!!” Humorous: “Cracked me up!” Love: “To be loved

like that!” Stories: “Character driven fiction.”




 Links to Take a Chance on Love:


Links to Perilous Promises:


Links to Clay’s Quest:


Link to “To the One I Never Forgot”:

To celebrate the upcoming release of 

Getting It Right


$50 Amazon gift certificate!




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Meet the Daltons

Deep in Texas lives a ranching family. Mom, Pop and 5 big, strong sons. They live far enough from town to make them self-sufficient. If they can’t grow it, they don’t need it.

Except wives.

When the Dalton’s parents promise them land, on one condition, they sit up and take notice. But when they learn that they need to put a wife on the land before they get the deed, they realize just how difficult living in isolation really is. How do they find a wife who wants to live so far from civilization?

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I had to leave this image HUGE so you can get the full effect. Meet Hank and all his muscles. And you have to melt at that gorgeous face!

Book Description:

Five brides for five brothers…at least that’s the deal the Daltons have struck with their boys. Each son must marry in order to inherit a piece of the ranch they love so much.

Hank Dalton yearns to run his own spread, but more than that, he longs for a woman to call his own. Paradise Valley is far from civilization, though, and that makes finding the perfect match difficult. Not many women like being two hours from a major supermarket or mall.

Charlotte Halton is on the run. Poor choices have left her with scars—in and out. After her powerful boyfriend left her drugged and set their apartment on fire, she’s just trying to put the pieces of her life back together. Abandoning all she knows seems like the best decision she’s ever made. At least until her car breaks down in the middle of cattle country.

When a pretty little woman is delivered into Hank’s hands, he believes it was fate that kept him from joining his brothers for a “wife hunt” in the city. But she’s leery of men and hiding something dark. Can Hank tap into the attraction they both feel before she drives away?

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And this is Cash. Besides having that delicious love cradle of muscle riding above his jeans, he’s funny, doesn’t lose his temper quickly and knows what he wants.


Book Description:

Five brides for five brothers…at least that’s the deal the Daltons have struck with their boys. Each son must marry in order to inherit a piece of the ranch they love so much.When the new ranch hand the Daltons hire asks Cash for assistance, he’s all in—until he learns it involves a Mexican daughter and a marriage license. His first instinct is to run the other direction. But he figures he needs a wife and she needs help, so it’s a damn good bargain.

Maya Perez is desperate to get out of her home city and into the States, where she can make a better life. When her only living family member, her father, sends for her to come to Texas, she’s met by a gorgeous cowboy and an offer of marriage.

Cash figures being hitched to a woman is no different than taking care of cattle, but his bride is driving him crazy. Between her sharp tongue and soft curves, he’s over his head. Finding common ground might be the only way to tame his little bride.

***GIVEAWAY–one lucky commenter will receive a $5 Amazon GC *** Good luck!


Thanks for reading!

Em Petrova

~hardworking heroes–in bed and out~

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