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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New meaning to Crack the Whip

Comment to win a copy of Crack the Whip

My Rawhide series is all about a private BDSM club where members of a ranching community can play in discreet upscale surroundings. The first story,  Crack the Whip, was about rancher Reece Halliday, a fullout Dom, and his expertise with the single tail whip. I had done my research of course, as I always do, but recently I had a chance to visit a club where I actually met a real expert. What I learned was very interesting.

For example, the direction of the whip is guided by your thumb on the handle, or your forefinger, whichever grip is most comfortable. Kind of like a directional point. The Dom/Domme then chooses the exact spots for the whip to land on the submissive. I also learned that sound makes a difference. When you hear the familiar crack! of the whip,. That means it has not landed anywhere on the sub, only split the air. That’s what makes the sound. When the whip actually touches the body the sound is more like a thud.

An expert Master applies the whip to elicit maximum pleasure/pain from the sub and watched the sub for his/her reaction. Everyone’s level of pain is different and a good Dom/Domme knows how to read the submissive’s signals.

The demonstration was fascinating. I want to thank The Lair in San Antonio, Master N, Master Shack and of course my guide, Darrell, for teaching me so much. I used what I learned in an upcoming book that will release I think late in summer. Watch here for more details.

Meanwhile, here’s a snippet from Crack the Whip. Leave a comment for a chance to win a copy.


When rancher Reece Halliday met the new manager of his fetish club, Rawhide, he was shocked to see Katie Warren, the woman he’d loved and lost because of his sexual preferences. But a lot of time has passed and Katie has discovered the lure and satisfaction of BDSM—including the pleasurable sting of the single tail whip. Will Reece be able to lure her back into his arms—and bed—when he cracks the whip during their private sessions?

*****    crackthewhip_W6110_680

Katie stood in the narrow passageway, staring through the tiny opening in the wall, her panties so wet she could actually catch the scent of her own arousal. She could hardly take her eyes away from Reece’s tall, lean body. Somehow it looked even better than it had the first night she spied on him, each muscle clearly defined beneath the taut layer of skin.

He was using the single tail whip tonight, each crack! reverberating through her body. She’d overheard him tell Clint one night that it was one of his favorites to use on his subs. That it had an earthiness about it that made him so hot and horny he was lucky he didn’t fuck himself blind. Each time he lifted his hand and smacked the tail of the whip across the buttocks of his sub she jerked as if feeling it herself. Wishing she was on that table. Wishing she was the sub he was using the whip on.

From the first moment she’d walked into a club in Atlanta the very eroticism of the BDSM had drawn her in a way she’d never thought possible. Over the years she experimented, but never with clients of the clubs where she worked. She met people at munches she attended but then on her computer researched and vetted them before allowing herself to be drawn into a relationship.

Her research had paid off, the information drawing her like a moth to a flame. She often worried that she was becoming a BDSM junkie. That it would interfere with her public persona which was strong and self-assured. But that had never happened. The one time she’d sensed it creeping she was smart enough to walk away from the relationship. She’d been with a total of four Doms, three of them very skilled. Her first master had trained her in the ways of a submissive and she’d soaked it all up like a sponge. Most of her subsequent relationships had been fulfilling and emotionally satisfying.

Only that one…He’d reminded her so much of Reece. More than any of the others. So much so that she’d been fooled, finally wrenching herself away from it with her inner self in shreds and tatters. She had never felt for any of them what she still felt for Reece Halliday but deep inside her she began to wonder if Reece would be that kind of Dom, so controlling that she became nothing but an extension of him. It hung around at the edges of her mind, like a bee buzzing at a honeysuckle bush.

Still, watching him tonight she couldn’t help wishing that she was the one strapped down to that table serving him.

Feeling the lash of the thin whip.

Hoping that maybe…

He kissed the reddened skin and suddenly she wanted it to be her skin his mouth was on. When he squeezed lube onto his forefinger, spread his sub’s buttocks and worked his way into her ass she clenched her own cheeks, hungry for the feel of his finger there. One hand stole beneath the hem of her short dress and into her wet panties, seeking her aching clit.

Her fingers stroked her hot nub slowly as she watched Reece light a long red taper and hold it over India until the wax began to trickle down the sides. Then, like an artist painting on a canvas, he dripped it onto her back in lines matching the stripes on her buttocks, a careful zigzag. Katie was fascinated. None of her Masters had been into wax play but she’d heard many subs rave about the sensation of the warm wax on their bodies and the heat it generated in their cunts.

Her fingers stilled as Reece finished creating his design. One hand slipped between India’s thighs to per pussy. When he withdrew them they must have been wet because he took his time licking them, his swollen cock flexing in response. What he did next had her fingers moving again, faster, faster, stroking, pulling.

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Let’s Do The Twist!

D'Alba RT BooksigningThat’d be the TEXAS TWIST! Yep! There will be a book 4 in the Texas Montgomery Mavericks series. Texas Twist is coming your way on September 2, provided these edits from my editor don’t kill me first! :)

Here’s what Texas Twist is all about (the Unofficial blurb!)

Paige Ryan has lost everything important in her life. Her parents, her lover, her horse, her life on the rodeo tour. Lost about her future, she moves to Whispering Springs, Texas to be near her step-brother. But just as her life is starting to get back on track, it’s derailed again when the last man in the world she wants to see again moves into her house.

Cash Montgomery is on the cusp of having it all. Three-time world bull riding championship, fame, financial stability, and finally some respect from his family. But a bad bull ride leaves him injured and angry. His only comfort is found at the bottom of a bottle. His family drags him home to Whispering Springs, Texas, the last place he wants to be. With nowhere to go, he moves temporarily into an old ranch house on his brother’s property and surprised to find the place occupied.

As Cash rebuilds the dilapidated home and Paige rebuilds her nursing career, their old friendship begins to reemerge. But Paige knows that Cash Montgomery is nothing but a heartache waiting to happen. The best idea is to move on but sometimes taking the first step out the door is the hardest one.

I WISH I could show you the cover art. WOW. It’s great! But the final version hasn’t hit my computer yet. If you’ve seen my covers for Texas Two Step, Texas Tango, and Texas Fandango, this one is right up there with those!

I WILL have the final cover ready for the RT Booklovers Convention in May. I’m going and have lots and lots of goodies to give away. There’s nothing I love more than to talk books and characters with readers…books I wrote and not! I am a total bookie.

So who’s going to RT in May? Who needs to win an iPad, 8″ Kindle Fire or a 7″ Kindle Fire? That’s happening at RT this year! Look for me on my April 24th post and I’ll tell you more…where I’ll be, how you can enter to win fabulous prizes! Okay?

For now, leave me a message and tell me the best or useful or unusual author-related item you’ve ever received! It would help me SO much with my SWAG planning!

See you in the comments!

Cynthia D’Alba
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Molly Ann Wishlade Invites You to A Cowboy Community

I’m thrilled to be a guest at Wild and Wicked Cowboys again. I regularly visit this blog myself to read the great posts and comments. It’s a lovely, warm community based on a mutual love of cowboys and the Wild West. There’s nothing like a cowboy hero to get the heart thumping and the…ahem…juices flowing.

In my latest release, a short novel, with Totally Bound, the hero Kenan Duggan returns from the cattle trail to get a BIG surprise! Catherine Montgomery, the fiancée he’d believed dead for two years, arrives and throws him into emotional turmoil.  She has a few unpleasant secrets to divulge and Kenan has to fight his desire for revenge – not on Catherine but on the men who took her away from him.

Molly 1

While Kenan tries to come to terms with Catherine’s explanation about her disappearance, he also finds his old passion for her overpowering and they soon make up for lost time.

Harlot at the Homestead is the first book in a series called The Duggans of Montana, so look out for more stories featuring Kenan’s siblings in the near future. The second installment will be the story of his twin sister, A Rancher for Rosie.

Title: Harlot at the Homestead

Genre: Historical Western

 Series: The Duggans of Montana, Book #1

 Publisher: Totally Bound

Word Count: Short Novel – 33,707 words

 Release date: 7th March early download at Totally Bound’s website then general release on 4th April 2014.

Series Blurb:

The Duggans of Montana work hard and play harder.

Kenan Duggan looks out for his twin sister Rosie, and Matthew and Emmett, their two younger brothers. The Wild West is a tough place to live and each one strives to carve out their life on the land whilst battling the prejudices, contradictions and restrictions of an ever changing society.

They say that blood is thicker than water…but can these siblings find love and still hold on to family ties?

Harlot at the Homestead Blurb:

Sometimes retribution finds its own way but sometimes it needs a helping hand.

When Catherine Montgomery shows up at Kenan Duggan’s homestead, she expects him to be surprised. She’s been gone two years and she’s devastated to hear that her former fiancé was forced to give her up for dead.

Catherine never stopped thinking about Kenan and hoped that they’d be reunited one day. She has suffered at the hands of another but nothing tortured her as much as being apart from the man she loves. She doubts, however, that Kenan will be able to forgive her when she reveals her secrets.

As Kenan battles his desire for revenge, their mutual desire reawakens like a creek bed in the rain, and soon they are swept up in rediscovering their all-consuming passion.

Retribution often finds its own way in the Wild West and the men to blame for Catherine’s disappearance may well find themselves paying for their crimes in unexpected ways.

That’s if Kenan doesn’t get to them first!


Kenan stopped at a point where the bank grew flatter and the grass gave way to silt and sand. The water was shallow and crystal clear over the stones and Catherine suddenly realised how hot and uncomfortable she felt. High summer in Montana was usually hot and uncomfortable but this year it seemed hotter than hell. Beads of perspiration trickled down between her bosoms and the backs of her knees were clammy beneath her stockings.

“Let’s go in. It looks wonderful!”

Kenan smiled at her. “You always loved to swim, Catherine.”

They removed their shoes and outer garments then stood awkwardly.

“What now?” he asked.

“Just like always!” She chuckled.

His fingers trembled as he unhooked the front of her corset. He let it drop to the ground on top of her dress, then moved closer to her and encircled her wrist with his hands.  Her stomach flipped at the passion she saw in his gaze. He wanted her and loved her still but she had not yet revealed all to him. When she did, she feared that he would cast her aside like a broken saddle or a worn out boot.

“Hey!” He tipped up her chin with a fingertip. “What is it?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, just memories.”

“Good ones I hope.” He sighed as he bent his head to kiss her.

At first the kiss was soft and she relaxed into the warmth of his mouth, the sweetness of his breath. But as he pushed his hot tongue between her lips, she moaned and slid her hands through his hair. She filled her palms and her fingers with it then pulled his head towards her.

As they kissed, he loosened the waistband of her bloomers and she felt them slide down to the floor. The warm afternoon air caressed the naked skin of her legs and fluttered the edge of her chemise. Kenan held her body against the length of his and she felt his erection rock hard against her belly.

She giggled.

“What is it?” he asked breathlessly.

“Perhaps we’d better cool off?”

He looked down at the large bulge at his groin. “Maybe.”

He shrugged out of his union suit sleeves then slid it down over his legs. Catherine swallowed hard as she stared at his body. The hard cock stood to attention, pointing outwards from the dark curls of his pubic hair and pulling her eyes towards the balls beneath. He was a perfect male and she yearned to become one with him, to take him deep inside her and ride him until they both reached the point of no return.

“Now you!” His voice was husky but his tone was firm.

She undid the button at the front of her chemise then lifted it over her head. It was sheer as gossamer and featherlight. When she met his eyes again, the intensity of his gaze startled her. He looked so fierce, like he was about to explode with need and desire. He took her hand and led her towards the water’s edge. The cool river lapped at her toes and her nipples hardened, making her full breasts tingle.

“It’s freezing!”

“You’ll get used to it!” He eyed her naked form. He waded into the water until it reached his thighs then turned to face her. Catherine watched as goosebumps rose on his arms and the neat sack of skin that held the essence of his masculinity pulled itself up towards his body.  But his erection still stood firm and ready, the tip shimmering with a diamond like bead of moisture.

In a flurry of excitement, she pulled the pins from her hair and let its vermillion waves cascade down her back. The breeze lifted it and swirled it around her face, teasing her by limiting her view of Kenan. She flicked her head to push it aside and fixed her eyes upon the man she loved. Unable to resist any longer, she ran to him, splashing the icy water over them both as she did so. The river’s chilly grip travelled quickly up her legs and the tiny hairs on her neck and her arms stood on end.

Kenan grabbed her and pulled her with him into the flow and Catherine gasped as the cold water enveloped her, touching her inside and out. The sensation of the chilly water delving between the hot sensitive folds of her most private place was delicious and it heightened her desire to feel her lover’s cock there too.

“It’s freezing, Kenan!” She giggled.

He laughed then flicked water into her face. She shook her head, her thick hair heavy with the river. He reached out and tenderly spread her hair out so that it floated around her like a gathering of eels come to inspect her nudity.

“Come here!” Kenan embraced her.

Their cold, wet skin and his solid length prodding into her stomach fired her yearning to have him. She wanted to possess this man once more, before he knew the full truth. The fear that he might abandon her when she confessed all darkened her mind for an instant, like a cloud passing over the sun. But she shrugged it away, refusing to allow it to spoil this precious moment. Kenan pushed her towards the bank where he laid her on her back in the shallows. He eyed every inch of her body. The stones and sand were hard and cold beneath her skin but the fire in his gaze warmed her like the hot summer sun.

He stroked his hands over her stomach, across the curves of her hips then back towards the apex of her thighs. She moaned as he parted her legs and ran the fingers of his right hand between her swollen lips then over her aching bud. He rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger with a touch so experienced and knowledgeable that Catherine felt all sense and reason slipping away. Lost in passion, she lifted her hips towards him, eager for him to fill her up as she knew only he could.

Whilst he massaged her, he used his free hand to drip chilly droplets of water over her burning cunny. She flung out her arms and grabbed his shoulders, digging her nails wantonly into his flesh and pulling him down onto her, unable to wait another second. His body moulded to hers as if it were the other half of her and she flung her head back as he drove his erection into her soft flesh.

As excitement consumed him, he rocked into her, harder and faster and she spread her legs farther to take him deeper. The water splashed around them as they moved in perfect union and the current flowed over them, caressing their skin and creeping into forbidden places as if to join in their lovemaking.  Catherine bit into Kenan’s shoulder when the tensing and twitching of her pussy signalled the onset of her climax and her sensitive bud throbbed then burst into countless little explosions like lightning bolts piercing the night sky.

The aftershocks flooded throughout her entire body and her hot juices flowed from her loins. Her excitement spurred Kenan on and he thrust harder and faster before freezing as he reached his own shuddering release.

He rested his weight on his elbows and looked into her eyes. “You are amazing,” he whispered as he gently pushed the wet hair from her forehead. “No one should ever hurt you. Ever.”

Buy Links:

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Molly 2

Molly’s Links:





Total-E-Bound Blogspot on 12th of every month:


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Where did you get that idea? (PRIZE OFFERED)

Welcome back to the Ugly Stick Saloon!

*~*~*~*~*~ PRIZE ALERT- SEE DETAILS BELOW ~*~*~*~*~*~

BootsAndTwisters-RMarch 25, 2013 Release

Pre-order Now!

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I write a series that is going on sixteen books all based around the UGLY STICK SALOON, a Texas watering hole where strays can come and find a home and love. How, might you ask, do I come up with new ideas after so many books? Especially when I have a saloon in a small Texas town? With the UGLY STICK SALOON series, you’ll notice a pattern of down-and-out, unlucky-in-love individuals who are caught up in the the community and find love. The owner of the UGLY STICK SALOON, Audrey Anderson was unlucky in love herself and can’t resist taking in strays – people who need a hand up or a job. When I get stuck for a new character name, I turn to online baby name sites, phone books and Facebook to ask my fans what names I could use for the hero and heroine of my next books.

I used the Facebook method for my most current release and came up with the name Lucky for my heroine. About that time, a tornado hit a town in Oklahoma and I knew I had my story. You see the connection? I did! Lucky had to be the most UNlucky person ever and wherever she landed bad luck followed. Running from her most recent bad luck, she runs out of money when she rolls into the parking lot of the UGLY STICK SALOON. Of course Audrey takes her in and the bad luck begins all over again, culminating in the town of Temptation being hit by a tornado. You have to read the book to find out how Lucky’s luck changes and the town learns to accept her.

So where do I get stories? From the phone book, from a name, from the news, from a phrase. Everywhere!


Two ranchers are about to get Lucky—in more ways than one.

Lucky Albright’s unlucky streak is so long and wide that she’s been run out of one town and it looks like it may happen again.

When she finds herself out of money and out of gas in Temptation, Texas, a part-time job from the kind owner of the Ugly Stick Saloon gives her a glimmer of hope that this time things will be different.

Trent Jameson and Isaac Moore have always believed you make your own luck, but a black cloud of disaster seems to hover over their new hand. Under a tumbling stack of hay, Isaac discovers what Lucky’s hiding beneath baggy clothes and a tough exterior. Enough sexy curves to satisfy both men’s appetites.

But it isn’t long before Lucky’s history starts wreaking havoc all over town. It’ll take a force of nature to help the ranchers convince the law, the Garden Club—even Lucky herself—that now is no time to hit the road.

Warning: Hot cowboys meet hot cowgirl, and there’s a whole lotta shakin’ goin’ on in Temptation. Get your twist-and-shout on at the Ugly Stick Saloon!

Pre-order Now!

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*~*~*~*~*~ PRIZE ALERT ~*~*~*~*~*~

Leave a comment for a chance to win a print copy of


Tarzanf200x300Tarzan & Janine

Amazon | Nook

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Salute to the Modern Cowboy — and a Giveaway!

In the Old West, cowboys worked from dawn to dusk and sometimes beyond. Modern-day cowboys aren’t any different. Except our perceptions are skewed by Hollywood.

In the movies we don’t see triple-digit temperatures in the afternoons–we just see them riding with a single drop of perspiration zigzagging down their manly necks to some amazing theme music. On screen we don’t see the cowboy riding through subzero temps to reach the herd of cattle that will surely freeze if he doesn’t drive them to safer ground.

Cowboys will find better food for their herd while ignoring their own hunger pains. After all, they’re feeding America too. When the cattle industry amounts to 71-billion dollars in revenue, someone has to step up to the plate.

So despite cracked ribs from taking a fall from a spooked horse, the cowboy is out searching for that lost calf. (Can I get an AWWWW?)

Modern technology has given us an easier way to transport cattle. Yeah, we have better medications to treat a sick animal. But the essence of a cowboy’s job is the same. And he’s still driven by the same passion from days of old.

Now … the modern cowboy!

A muscular man in a cowboy hat

In my books, I try to show how hardworking these cowboys are. I give them injuries and hardships. They cry over their dead horses and sick calves. Of course there is plenty of man-chest and you might even see that Hollywood-like sweat zigzagging down a manly neck. Because I’m a modern girl, folks. And you like it, right?

Excerpt from SOMETHIN’ DIRTY now available from Samhain

SomethinDirty300 (2)

The instant he stepped into the barn, he smelled trouble. Fear and pain had their own odor. And the sickness mingled with it was a dead giveaway.

He yanked the chain overhead and lit the bare bulb in the center of the barn. It cast a thin glow over the stall where the heifer was on its side, eyes rolling wildly.

“Damn.” Griffin dropped to his knees in the hay and ran his hands over the cow. Her stomach rippled with the baby that was obviously trapped.

Launching back to his feet, his mind raced ahead. Get the chain and the homemade rig used to exert pressure. Phone’s in my back pocket in the event I need to call the vet.

No, he needed to call Ma to come sit with Lyric while he worked with the cow.

As this thought passed through his mind, his stomach clenched. His mother wasn’t in any shape to make a midnight drive to Needle’s Pass.

He slung the chain over his shoulder and lifted the metal rig he’d hand-crank to pull the calf. Then he fished in his pocket for his phone.

A few days ago he’d put Nola on speed-dial—in the event he needed her for an emergency, he’d told himself even as his groin ached with desire.

She answered on the fourth ring. Her throaty voice speared him with lust. Too easily he pictured her tousled hair and tank top slipping down one golden shoulder.

“Nola, it’s Griffin. Can you come up?”

“I—what? Griffin?”

He smiled at the confusion in her tone. Protectiveness surged in his chest. “Yeah…Griffin. I need to pull a calf. Can you sit with Lyric?”

She made a humming noise that caused his cock to jerk. “I guess I could.”

“I’ll give you double pay for the extra hours. And you can sleep as long as she’s sleeping.”

“All right. Just give me…” She paused, and he heard items being tossed around. “Give me half an hour.”

The cow’s body shuddered, and Griffin stretched his lips over his teeth in his own grimace. “Thanks, Nola.”

He hung up and kneeled before the cow again. He set up the rig, feeding the chain to the gear. When he cranked the handle, the chain would tighten. Now he just needed to reach inside the cow and find the calf’s leg.

First he ran his hands over the calf’s outline to detect the way it was laying. He’d done this often enough to know its front legs were bunched up and hindering its birth.

“Damn.” He yanked off his flannel shirt and moved to the back end of the cow. “You’re not gonna like me for this, but in the end, it’s what you need.”

Thanks for reading! One lucky commenter will win a signed paperback copy of HARD RIDIN’!

Em Petrova’s Cowboys:

Hard Ridin’


Somethin’ Dirty

Dallas Nights

Slick Rider

Spurred On

Stranded and Straddled

Double Dippin’

Outlaws of Love

Trail of Lust

Wild, Wild Hearts

Em Petrova

~hardworking heroes — in bed and out~

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Cowboy Heat is Here! 15 Short Stories from Your Favorite Cowboy Authors

My short story in the Cowboy Heat Anthology is a quick, hot look into the lives to two people who were lucky enough to be in the right place at the perfect time.

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: Fifteen minutes before the band was supposed to start, the musicians came in and set up their instruments. Layne glanced around. More than half the booths were filled, waitresses carried drinks and food, and Ben had a woman helping him behind the bar. When had all this happened? She glanced at Kyle.

He blinked as he looked around. Evidently, they’d been deep in their own little world, and had filtered out everything else. “Be right back.” He headed to the men’s room.

She watched him this time: his slim hips, long legs and V-shaped torso were everything she’d expected in a real cowboy.

“Can I buy you a beer?” A young man, dressed for a Saturday night at a honky-tonk, squeezed in between her bar stool and the empty one next to her.

“No, thank you. I’m leaving in a few minutes.” She turned away.

“My buddies and I were hoping you’d stay.” He gestured to a pack of five guys all staring at her like she was fresh meat. “Dance with us.”

“No. Thank you.” She used her firm voice, the one that always sent guys fleeing.

“Okay, but when you get tired of that old butt face cowboy, we’ll be waitin’ for you.”

“What?” Her blood pressure spiked. “You know…” She turned to face him. “It’s bullshit like that that makes me hate pretty boys like you.” And he was pretty. “That cowboy is the nicest man I’ve met in a hell of a long time, and for you to judge him on his skin instead of his soul is narrow-minded and ignorant.”

Pretty Boy looked up, over her head, and with a sinking sensation in her gut, she knew Kyle was back.

The kid’s cheeks flamed red and he walked away.

She turned to the cowboy.

He stood next to his bar stool. “You don’t need to fight my battles.”

He spoke softly, but she knew he was angry, his bright blue eyes had darkened. Damn, she’d insulted him again. How could she tell him she was fighting her own battles, too? She’d always been the pretty one, the one men asked to dance first, never her girlfriends. Marshall, the jackass, had always commented on how lovely she was, never how smart or funny or interesting.

She’d had enough of acting like an idiot. As Ben walked by, she gestured to him. “Can you call me a taxi?” She didn’t want to walk in the rain, and who knew what that pack of pretty boys was capable of.

“Okay. You’re a taxi.” He grinned but shook his head. “We’ve got nothing like that out here, but…”

“I’ll drive you.” Kyle’s voice sounded too quiet.

Ben nodded. “I can vouch for him. You’ll be safe with him.”

She risked a glance at the cowboy.

He seemed to have drawn back into his quiet zone. Pulling out his wallet, he settled up for all their drinks.

She didn’t dare insult his manhood again by offering to pay her share, so she worked at finishing her last beer.

“All right, cowboys and cowgirls!” The band member’s voice came through the sound system. “We’re Lone Trail, and we’re glad to be here tonight.” A smattering of applause and the sound of guitars tuning filled the room. “We’ve got some special occasions tonight.” He held up a piece of paper. “It’s Flo Bauman’s fiftieth birthday today. Where’s Flo?”

Shouts from the far end of the bar revealed where her party was going strong.

“Okay, and we’ve got Layne’s bachelorette party. Where’s Layne and the girls?”


Layne looked at Kyle. His eyes were wide and staring right at her. She grimaced. “So…now might be a good time to leave, don’t you think?”

His lips twitched in a partial smile as he came around the corner of the bar, holding out his hand.


Read part of the first chapter of Skin Deep, and learn more about all the Cowboy Heat stories at my Website

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The Evolution of a Character – The Birth of Charlie Parker

The Evolution of a Character

I rewarded myself the other day. When I finished Thunderbird and shipped it off to Ryan to read through – we coauthored it – it was his turn to check our consummation of ideas – oh that sounded dirty, I like it. Anyway, I rewarded my efforts by taking a small trip. I left East Texas and drove about five hours east to Waco. The mission I was on was the hunt for a motorhome. Sable Hunter needs a research vehicle and Beau Coup needs a traveling office to visit authors and conferences – deductible, you see. Anyway, I found one. I haven’t purchased it yet, I’m waiting to see how much more taxes I have to pay before I sign on the dotted line. But this is it – A Thor Challenger. Pretty spiffy – I am excited.

When I take trips like this, I tend to want to write them off – if I can. As I was traveling west, I passed the area where I set Breath of Heaven – the home of the King Family – El Camino Real Ranch. Actually I traveled out on the King’s Highway for part of the journey. So, my mind began to wander on how I could incorporate this trip and this area into a future book. I considered the historical western I’m putting together, but it will be set between Milam, Tx and Nacogdoches, TX – a romance about a young Texan and a Creole slave. But since this was quite a few miles west, I couldn’t see how I could effectively work it in – and then it hit me.

Justice King and Charlie Parker.

I haven’t named the book yet, but it will be the sequel to A Breath of Heaven. When I was writing that story and building the background, I wrote about Abby’s brothers – and the oldest was Justice. I liked the name. I can already see him – the tall, broad, silent type – who rarely smiles and takes life too seriously. Handsome as sin. Doesn’t expect to fall in love. And as I was writing it, I casually slipped in the name of his future love. Although at the time, I knew nothing about her – nothing. Charlie Parker. The way I did it was have one of his brothers ask Justice about her and had him overreact in a negative way – “the day I take up with Charlie Parker is the day you can have my sanity checked” or some such exclamation. His reaction was the type – “methinks thous dost protesteth too much.”

So, I didn’t know who Charlie was, but I decided she needed to have a Waco connection, so I could write off the trip – make sense?

As I drove, I got to thinking about what type of person Charlie was and who she was. And as my tires ate of the miles, she began to be born and grow and evolve – and BAM! It hit me. In Waco, one of the main tourist attractions is the TEXAS RANGER MUSEUM. And I had never been! I was fascinated by the Rangers, in fact my Ty in My Aliyah was a Ranger, but that arm of Texas law is endlessly fascinating and I wondered – I wondered – were there female rangers? I didn’t know, but I determined to make that my first stop and ascertain if I could make my heroine one of the legendary Texas Rangers.

Of course that was the first step. I had to think about what type of person she was – what she looked like, how she talked – what her background was, her personality – etc. Now, I will confess EVERY heroine I write about is me. Me. – not Sable – the real me. In order for me to immerse myself in the books, I step into them. My experiences, insecurities, hurts, dreams – hopes – humor, sex – - it’s all me, or parts of me. So, I had to dig into my past and find Charlie.

Charlie is a tomboy. Makes sense. Her mom died early in life, and her father had always wanted a boy – hence her name. And by the way – Charlie is her name, not Charlotte or Charlene – just Charlie. So, her dad raises her and she grows up on the ranch, working alongside her dad. Now, here is where I step in. My stepfather raised me. And he was like that. I never was a prissy little girl – back in Louisiana, I roamed the swamps barefoot, brandishing a peach tree switch sword as I chased alligators and let the mud squish between my toes – running rampant along the bayou and swinging from vines into the murky waters. So, when I moved to Texas – it was a scene change but not a far step to horseback and ranch life. I immersed myself with the cattle and horses. Being young, I didn’t know a lot about the facts of life. So when my stepdad would tell me to stay in the house, that he had to go ‘dig up’ a calf. I thought he was serious. Actually he was going to help a mama cow give birth, but in my small mind, I thought he was out in the pasture with a shovel hunting buried bovine treasure. And after he had proceeded to dig up that calf, he would always come get me and I would get calf sugar – my favorite part. Kissing the babies and naming them and proceeding to drive him crazy because I wouldn’t let him sell them when they were older. But what really got my stepfather’s goat was the day he caught me out in the pasture with his shovel, digging small holes all about – trying to dig up my own calf. So, I was able to relate to Charlie.

Charlie is feminine, but she hides it. No one sees her frilly bedroom or knows she wears pretty underwear. She has never been the prettiest girl. Her figure is slight and her breasts are small – but her heart is big, almost as big as her determination to be everything her stepfather wanted -  A Texas Ranger. So, she exhibits this tough exterior – s five foot six, one hundred pound ball of fire who takes no crap and always gets her man – except one. The man she loves. Justice King. You see, she’s not woman enough for Justice. He deserves a beautiful woman – and even though she loves him to distraction, anytime they’re together – and they are thrown together a lot – they fight. He is the proverbial thorn in her side, or maybe it’s the other way around.

Anytime Justice hears Charlie’s name – he bristles. Damn woman. She risks her life. She lives dangerously – when all he secretly wants to do is take care of her. But he doesn’t know how to handle Charlie. And Charlie would like nothing more than being handled by Justice  – - – and so the plot thickens. Or the plot is born or evolved. As I drove that five hours west, I began to see and hear and feel Charlie.

When I got to Waco, I went to the museum. I parked in the shade so Abby and Mojo wouldn’t get too hot and went in to see what I could do with Charlie Parker. Here is a picture of the museum and a statue out front.


When I got there, it had typical museum atmosphere. The woman at the front desk had a strange look on her face and asked me if I had heard a little child’s voice and I looked at her funny and told her there was one outside on the porch. She looked relieved and said she had been hearing ghosts all day – and then she gave me a pointed stare (obviously she didn’t know who she was talking to ) and told me the museum was haunted. Well, duh. What any self respecting museum with the belongings of long dead cowboys would not be haunted?

I proceeded to walk through – and I was fascinated. Guns, flasks, saddles – hats. Photos. You can imagine what was there. The place was set up in collections – the precious belongings of people and relatives who had loved these men down through the ages. I learned of their lives. How some of them were surveyors or bootleggers. I learned what towns they had saved – what people they had killed. How some had died in battle. Others had won medals of valor. The curator was right, the place was haunted. I could feel the spirits of the men who had conquered the west and fought for Justice and peace for Texas.

When I came to the rear, I found a wall of current photographs that depicted those who are serving in the Rangers now. And as I looked at their faces – some handsome by the way – I found what I was looking for. Three of them – just three – were woman. I stared at their faces and imagined mine there, because remember – Charlie is me. And I smiled.

I’m going to have a good time writing about Charlie Parker. She’s going to turn Justice King’s world every which way but loose.

I left the museum and me and the dogs went to get a hotel room. We travel alone for the most part – its safer that way. Sable is a dangerous traveling companion. Sable does better alone. She’s just a trouble maker. But there was some construction going on in Waco and my hotel was brim full of hunky men. As I was checking in, I was checking quite a few out.

The next day we went to look at RV’s and I found one. When I buy it, I’ll take some photographs for you as I travel the highways and byways discovering other plots and other stories that I can weave myself into.

I live in my books.

And it’s not a bad place to be.

Thank you. If you’ll comment on your favorite vacation, I’ll give away a copy of Thunderbird when it comes out in a couple of weeks. BAM!

Love, Sable.

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Brand New Cowboy Available!

Hey all,

I’m just going to pop in and give you some cowboy goodness to look at today. My newest Cowboy Dreamin’ is out! Tempted by the Cowboy is now available at all retailers near you. Check it out! You can see more excerpts at under Sandy Sullivan or check my website for information on all my books at http://www.romancestorytime.


Thank you!

Tempted by the Cowboy Cover

Now available!


Peyton Matthews has lived through years of emotional abuse at the hands of her ex. She’s started a new life in Bandera, Texas working as a bartender at The Dusty Boot, but she gets all gooey inside when she meets the gaze of one of the sexy Young triplets. Jason’s hot body jacks her libido up to full on furnace mode with nothing more than a look and a crook of his finger.

Jason Young doesn’t do relationships in any sense of the word, but when he finally gets a chance at the hot bartender from The Dusty Boot, he jumps into the sex only thing with both feet. He needs to keep it sex only. When things heat up between them, he starts feeling the pinch of the relationship bug.

Can their explosive sex life lead to something more?

Story Excerpt

Peyton Matthews stood at the edge of the crowd watching as the Young brothers did their best to sling mud in every direction. Muddin’. The cowboy way of having fun on a hot early summer evening. A little dirt, a lot of water, some big mud tires on a pickup truck, and you had yourself a grand time in Bandera, Texas.

She wasn’t sure why she let Aaron talk her into coming to this tonight. The cowboy way of life came hard for her. With her multiple tattoos, piercings, and loner mentality, she really didn’t fit in here. Even as a child, she’d been out of place with her tomboyish attitude. She hadn’t grown into her female body until later in high school as she cursed every curve, swell and period from then on. Not that she didn’t like being a woman now, but she sure hadn’t during puberty. And when the boys started noticing she had boobs? Oh boy! The gloves came off. Several of them got bloody noses from a well-placed fist.

Next up, the infuriating Jason Young, who took his turn at the hole. Mud flew in several directions, coating the crowd watching with the sticky substance. His red truck took the brunt of the splash, slinging the dirt over the entire side.

The grin he flashed from the driver’s seat was infectious and she couldn’t help but smile in return. He sure did have a pretty smile. Not that she really noticed or anything.

She knew his type. She’d seen it several times over the last several months as he played each female in The Dusty Boot like a fiddle with the strings too tight. A different one each time he came in.

As one of the bartenders who worked the joint, she saw him a lot. More than she wanted to, most of the time. She couldn’t help but notice the way he carried himself. Nor, could she take her eyes off the cut of his shirt over the muscles of his chest, the snug way his jeans molded to his nice ass and those lips. God help her, those lips. Dark, thick hair hung to his collar with a slight wave. Her fingers itched to run through those strands.

A slight shift in her stance relieved some of the pressure on her clit, just not enough to satisfy the ache building. Maybe she’d let Aaron have a go tonight. She glanced toward where he sat reclining against a hay bale with a long-neck beer between his fingers in one hand and a cigarette clutched between his teeth. Okay, maybe not. Why she even went out with the guy, she didn’t know other than she didn’t want to spend another Saturday night off, sitting at home watching reruns of Will and Grace.

She sipped her beer, grimacing at the taste. The malty liquid had the ability to make her stomach lurch. Give her a shot of whiskey and water before the taste of this shit, any day, but it was liquor. Right now she needed the bite of alcohol on her tongue.

Today sucked. The whole thing from morning until now bit the big one. Memories had swamped her most of all, bringing down her mood into the pits of hell.

One year ago today, her mother had passed away from breast cancer. She took another sip from the bottle in her hand. Yuck! She tossed it into the trash can to her left before she stuffed her hands into her back pockets.

Jason took another run at the hole as she shook her head. The man knew what to do to make himself visible. Again, he probably had to being one of the Young triplets, identical triplets at that, although she had always been able to tell them apart when she’d had the privilege of gazing into their gorgeous faces. The other two weren’t quite as broad across the shoulders as Jason. Something lingered in his gaze too. She wasn’t sure what, but it intrigued her. Something wild. Something untamed maybe.

They all had the sweetest dimpled grin, but Jason seemed to have the half crooked tilt to his lips down pat. Boy did it work on the ladies.

She scuffed the toe of her boot in the dirt as she sighed heavily. It wouldn’t do a bit of good to get tangled up with the likes of him even if he might be available. He wasn’t as far as she knew. She didn’t necessarily keep up with his whereabouts or latest fling. Well that’s what she told herself anyway even if she noticed every girl he came in with or went home with. Damn.

“Hey, babe. Why don’t you sit here with me,” Aaron said, patting the hay bale next to him.

“No thanks.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“You came with me, you know.”

“I know I did, Aaron, but don’t pull your macho shit with me. I can find another way home. There are plenty of people from town here I could hitch a ride with.”

“Like one of the Young boys?” He climbed to his feet, swaying slightly. “Don’t think I haven’t seen you watchin’ several of them tonight.”

He grabbed her arm, but she yanked it out of his hold. “Don’t manhandle me, jackass.”

“Aw, come on, babe. I don’t wanna fuss with you. I wanna love on you.”

“Yeah, not happenin’.”

“Problem?” Jason stepped out of the shadows of the tree line.

Her breath stopped in her throat as it closed off. “No problem.” The words came out in a squeak, not at all what she’d hoped to sound like—confident in her ability to take care of herself.

“Back off, Young.”

“Fuck you, Scarborough. You don’t get rough with a woman while I’m around.”

“She ain’t your woman.”

“She isn’t yours either, asshole.” He touched her arm where Aaron had grabbed. “Are you okay, Peyton?”

“I’m fine. Thanks.” She tipped her head back slightly to look down her nose at the idiot she came with. Big mistake, but one she’d own up to. “I can handle him.”

“I’m sure you can, darlin’, but you don’t have to.”

Posted in cowboys, Westerns | 2 Comments

Sweet Success…

Hi everyone. I came into 2014 on a slippery slope with lots of rough patches along the way. But the earlier ordeals have smoothed out and been replaced by happier times.

The toxic chemical spill that polluted rivers in West Virginia is under control and the water declared safe to use. Hubs and I are still drinking and cooking with  bottled water, but we’re using the tap for bathing and washing clothes. (Trust me this is a BIG HAPPY).

Evoque 1I replaced my ailing SUV with a new Range Rover Evoque. Yeah, the picture sucks.  Hubs wanted to know why I  I ran outside last night to take pictures during the latest snow storm. Even in good weather and lighting I’m not a great photographer. But I wanted to share because so many of you were so sweet with your concern and best wishes and now I LUV my new ride.

Adding to my happy fest, I received notification that River’s Edge, Unlikely Gentlemen I, is a nominee for a RONE AWARD. 

Be sure and leave a comment below and tell me how your year is moving along. I’m giving away 3 prizes today: Reader’s choice of my backlist, 2 print copies of River’s Edge, and one set of Unlikely Gentlemen Books I and II–River’s Edge and Outrageous Pride

Here’s a snippet from River’s Edge:

As River peered down at the cowboy through the screen of the willow branches, he unbuckled his gunbelt and removed the chaps he wore over his denims. Piece by piece he shed the rest of his clothes, discarding them all before reaching into his saddlebag and pulling out a sliver of soap and a drying cloth.  

Grasping her pencil, River leaned forward, almost falling from her hiding spot as she prepared to draw her first live nude subject. She had studied Hellenic art, copying pictures of naked gods and men. Hermes of Atalante, the Roman statue by Lysippus, remained her favorite. But the sun-kissed figure below eclipsed the one-dimensional depictions in her books.

Standing thigh deep with his back turned toward her and his shoulder muscles rippling, the cowboy reached low, scooping water to wet his face and chest. The fiery red color of his shoulders and back contrasted with the pale skin on his rump and thighs. He bent to cup water and rinsed white soap from the dark tufts of hair sprouting from his armpits.

River stared at the taut muscles in his buttocks, a jagged scar ruining the contour of the left cheek. And then he turned around, displaying a form more magnificent than any pictures of sculpted perfections she’d studied. Her gaze roved across his body, greedily examining and cataloguing the earthy reality.

He rubbed soap over his chest, swirling white lather around his nubs, pausing to squeeze the tips between finger and thumb. Rough laughter escaped him as his manhood bobbled in response.

River’s left hand lifted of its own accord, cupping the material covering her bosom. Though only plump in wishful dreams, her breasts each sported a dusty areola, darkly ringing a sensitive tip. She imagined him caressing her flesh, pinching her nipples as he had his own and a surge of need clawed at her belly.

She bit her bottom lip, concentrating as she detailed the heavy shoulder muscles, the sprinkling of dark chest hair, and the sharp hipbones framing the flat belly. Feathering strokes lightly she mimicked the fine hairs circling his navel before arrowing toward his groin.

As she watched, a line of water trickled from shoulder to chest and glistening drops collected in the dark thatch surrounding his manhood. His penis appeared more robust than the hairless groins of the marble statues she’d studied in her books.

River swallowed, trying to quell her breathless fascination with his maleness. As though her scrutiny had caused the action, he fisted his hand around his shaft and stoked the flesh between his legs until it became engorged. 

She wasn’t prepared for the erotic motion and the pencil she gripped too tightly snapped into two parts. River stifled a moan and forced her gaze away from the intimate act and back to the harsh planes of the cowboy’s face.

 Almost casually, he rinsed, walked out of the water to his pile of clothes, picked up his gun, and pointed it at the approximate place where she crouched in the tree. 

“Come down from there now or I’ll start shooting.” His tone bore little resemblance to that of the easy-going cowboy she’d spied on all morning.

“Please go away,” she called to him, hastily cramming her sketchbook into her satchel. She had every reason to believe this stern-voiced stranger might actually carry out his threat. The sound of her voice identifying her gender seemed to jar him a bit.

He lowered the gun, pulling on his trousers and stepping into his boots before walking beneath the willow. 

“You coming down?” he growled. 

“No,” she answered, estimating the distance to the ground from the limb where she perched. She might have to jump and run. Cloaked behind a screen of leaves, she couldn’t see his actions or anticipate his intentions.

“Guess I’ll have to come up to meet you, then.” The tree swayed under his weight as he began to climb. 

“I’d rather you didn’t,” she called to him. 

“I’d rather peeping-toms didn’t watch me bathe. It appears we all get disappointed sometimes.” His voice held an unexpected edge of humor, as if he thought the situation funny. 

“In point of fact, you’re trespassing,” River protested, prepared to defend herself with the broken pencil stub.

He paused in his climb and the willow stopped swaying. “That I am. Beg pardon.” Instead of arguing or continuing up the tree, he began a retreat.

Both relieved and disappointed, she waited until he’d climbed down, retrieved his loose pile of belongings, pulled on his shirt, and mounted his horse. Then she shouted another message. “Bathe in green tea tonight. It will take the sting from your burn.”

From River’s Edge, Unlikely Gentlemen I

Available @ Amazon:

Voting in the American Historical category takes place this week. Thanks in advance if you have time to show River and Edge some love. Here’s the link:



__________Gem Sivad________

Writing Erotic, Paranormal, and Historical Romance
Author of the series Eclipse Heat & Unlikely Gentlemen
Published by Ellora’s Cave, Siren BookStrand & Dark Mountain Books
Web / Twitter / FB / Amazon / GR / 
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