I’m Still Alive

So sorry I missed January totally and since Feb only had 28 days, I didn’t post then either.

I’ve been super busy writing, editing and waiting for a response on my cowboy book. I’m not patient, but I’m dealing with it by writing more books so that is a good thing.

Some news to share:

I have a new release this weekend – I have a short story in the We Love Kink Anthology.

Sexy Surprise by Marie Tuhart

Eric Montgomery has had the hots for Marina Landers for over a year. Now they’re thrown together as best man and maid of honor. Close proximity to the sexy best man has left Marina Landers desperate for release, and when Eric offers her the opportunity to find out if the rumors about his domineering ways are true she jumps at the chance. Once the fling is over, Marina plans to walk away, but Eric has other plans.


Red Club Temptation is on sale from 4/1 until 4/12 for .99 cents – so if you haven’t had the chance to pick it up and you want to read it now would be the time.


And last but not least – I have a cover for my new release coming on 7/1/17.  Passionate Desire.


I hope I have more good news next month.


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Summer Fun by Paty Jager

Paty Jager wdrI’ll be in Deadwood, SD, June 9th and 10th attending the Wild Deadwood Reads. I’m excited to be one of the authors sponsoring a bus to the 1880’s Black Hills train ride and seating at the rodeo Friday night.  If you’d like to have a reader’s dream vacation check out the events and registration. www.wilddeadwoodreads.com

This summer will not only be filled with this fun adventure, I’ll be starting a new historical western romance series. I’m excited to be writing about saloon girls and their happy ever afters. I thought I’d give you a peek of the handsome man who runs the Silver Dollar  saloon.

long hair gunBeau Gentry- He’s in his thirties, never been married, adept at cards, likes women, but doesn’t blatantly fool around. He is the illegitimate son of Arnold Gentry. A plantation owner in Louisiana who fooled around with a rival’s wife. The woman became pregnant and was thrown out by her husband when the baby boy appeared with his biological father’s ice blue eyes.  Arnold Gentry refused to acknowledge the boy. Beau’s mother had to become a prostitute to make money. A Creole woman helped take care of Beau. He grew up close with her son who is the bouncer and piano player in the Silver Dollar.

Because of his mother’s trials, he helps women when they are left homeless and penniless. They work in the saloon, serving drinks, singing, and dancing.  He bought the building behind the saloon, and gave an older woman the job of running a boarding house for women. His “girls” live in the boarding house.

I’m excited to start this series, showing bits and pieces of Beau until about book five or six when he’ll meet his match and the woman who steals his heart. While he has a soft heart, helping the woman, he is tough at cards, tough on men who hurt women, and keeps his heart locked up, not wanting to end up dying of a broken heart like his mother.

Given the series title: Ladies of the Silver Dollar Saloon, I can make these books as steamy as I want. I’ve already conjured up the first ladies and their circumstances. The town will be set along the railroad and a spot where cattle are loaded onto the train. That gives me many cowboys and other occupations coming through the town to hitch the ladies to. 😉


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The Men of At-Ease Ranch Gets More Heroes by Donna Michaels

Howdy everyone!

I’m thrilled to blog today for two reasons. One because I get to share my latest release: HER SECRET RANGER/Book 2 in The Men of At-Ease Ranch series through Entangled!!! This book came out on March 6th and was one of my most favorite stories to write. The hero and heroine were so much fun!

And two, I just signed a two-book contract with Entangled to extend the series to include books for Vince and Leo! Thanks to readers requesting those stories, I will now have the opportunity to give those two former Army Rangers their own stories in books 4 and 5!!  Thank you all for helping to make that happen! ❤

Okay, let’s talk Brick…


Amazon | iTunes | B&N | Kobo


Kissing the sexy soldier was a dare she couldn’t resist…

By-the-book event planner Beth Brannigan’s best friend dared her to kiss a cowboy. She should have said no. Instead, she said please…again and again. If her brother finds out she’s dating—okay, kissing—okay, sleeping with—one of his military buddies, he’ll kill her. Assuming he doesn’t kill his friend first.

Former Army Ranger Brick Mitchum isn’t a relationship kind of guy. But then he meets Beth and starts to wonder if maybe it’s time he settled down. She’s mysterious. Unpredictable. Curvy in every way he needs… And hiding something. He’s just got to figure out what.


It was…him. The cowboy from two weeks ago. Seriously? What were the chances he’d walk back into her life at that exact moment? “Uh…”

“I know, right? And there’s not a wedding ring in sight. Now go over there and kiss him.” Her snickering friend pushed her after the hunk striding toward the livestock section of the fair. “Go on before he gets away. Or is that what you wanted?”

She gulped. Pulled herself together. The knowing tone in her friend’s voice revealed she expected Beth to chicken out.


Any other time, yes, she’d lose the dare. It was childish and irresponsible, and she didn’t have time for foolish games. But she did have time to help her friend de-stress. Her friend who was also her client. It was Beth’s duty to put her client at ease. So, technically, it was her duty to kiss the sexy cowboy whose body she knew as well as her own.

That was her story and she was sticking to it.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

Rachel squealed and clapped her hands.

Grasping bravado with two fists, Beth set her shoulders, lifted her chin, and marched after the hot guy striding away from her down the fairway. So what if she’d decided he was part of her past? The opportunity was too good to pass up. Things like this never happened to her.

Zigzagging around fairgoers, she avoided running into two children wearing a blue coating of cotton candy, and closed in on her prey. Her confidence rose with each step. Not only had she received her first ever dare, she was actually in the position to have the upper hand on the challenge.

A flicker of guilt and a touch of anxiety mixed with excitement. She pushed them both aside and smiled when the cowboy suddenly stiffened and came to a halt. It was as if he could feel her presence as sure as she could feel his. Not wanting Rachel to see the guy’s expression, Beth didn’t give him a chance to turn around. She slid in front of him, her anxiety fading at the pleasure curving his mouth into a sexy grin, dimpling his cheeks.

“Hello, Brick,” she said.

Then she cupped his deliciously scruffed jaw, pulled his face down, and kissed the ever loving heck out of him.




The response for Brick and Beth has been amazing! Thank you all for the wonderful reviews and emails. I truly appreciate your support!

You may be wondering about Book 3, well I’m happy to report Cord’s book: THE RIGHT RANGER has just gone to galley and will be released in about 3 months! As soon as I receive the cover and release date I shall pass them along!

Hope you all have a great weekend!

Thanks for reading,


You can find me here:


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Guest Blogger Damon Suede Talks SLOW DRAWL: the twang thang cowboy romance needs to bring

Thanks so much for inviting me over to Wild and Wicked Cowboys as part of my Lickety Split rollout. The response to the book has been amazing, and I love getting the chance to meet with folks who dig cowboy romances in particular.

Lickety Split Damon Suede

I grew up in Houston which, as far as accents go, is pretty bland. Maybe because it’s a huge urban center, maybe because it’s home to so many different groups of people, Houston sounds like Texas, but nowhere near the cornpone musicality of rural Texas. As an author, I have a rep for dialogue and distinct language so at every stage Lickety gave me plenty of chances to use dialogue and idiom to set the stage around the characters. Texas mythologizes itself constantly, and these characters participate in that willfully.

For all kinds of reasons, I grew up without much of an accent; my mother was a born mimic who imitated her legal clients subtly to put them at ease. Plus I’d worked as a child actor, doing voiceover besides from the age of 5, so directors had beat the twang out of me early and often. I left for college at 16, and I’d picked up the same social survival trick so in NYC I quickly adopted the rhythm and slang of a Manhattanite. My standard line when flirting with city boys was that my accent only appeared when I was tired, drunk, or horny. #truth

I remember the first time I came home from college for Christmas. After one semester in Manhattan, Texas seemed like a foreign country: suffocating humidity, deep fried everything, and accents too thick to stir with a wooden spoon. For a couple days, people in restaurants mistook me for a Yankee, but somewhere around day three I consciously softened my rhythm and used a couple expressions only a local would know.

Suddenly I was Texan again. That pattern became the norm for the rest of my visits home. By the end of every trip back, the patois and cadence leaked back into my speech patterns and you could hear the Lone Star in every syllable; then I’d fly back and re-acclimate to NYC and the reverse would happen. Of course, it got even weirder when I moved to London. LOL

As it happens, Lickety Split is set at the edge of the Big Thicket, not too far from the Louisiana border. That area has a deep, distinctive southern drawl, with hints of Cajun and creole mixed in. Locals use completely different curse words and general slang, and they speak with a looser, lazier mouth as if the consonants take too much effort to mess with. The East Texas accent sounds soft and slippery to the ear…almost as if the heat and humidity makes enunciating too damn difficult. To be honest, it’s the main reason I situated this book out there… with Patch so zippy and driven, I wanted that exact pace for all my other characters.

Since the first act of the book focuses on Patch coming home after seven years, I wanted his language to reflect his life in NYC, but as the book progressed I let the Texas seep back into his vocabulary and rhythm. Maybe only Texans would notice but I felt like a few solid shifts would not only create a sense of the region, but also hint at the ways in which he’s never really left home in his head and heart. His journey back to Hixville is as much about finding his drawl again as it is learning that home was sweeter than he remembered.

Tucker Biggs is the exact opposite: he’s never been outside of the state and he grew up all the hell over Hardin County. His slang and slowness has kept him safe and steady while life tried to knock him out of the saddle. He dropped out of high school a ways back and grew up rodeoing and oddjobbing his way to 43 when the book starts, so his drawl and word choice needed to root him right where he was. The cocky, confidence of his lazy twang set up a big part of the tension with Patch, both positive and negative.

At the same time, I didn’t want to turn these guys into cowboy cartoons and I spent a lot of time making sure that the way ALL of the characters talked reflected their personal arc. Janet speaks in raunchy innuendo and protective encouragement. Vicky, Pastor Snell, and the Keister sisters had all stayed put around Hixville so their frame of reference (and manner of speaking) was necessarily narrower. Even Bix has a different speech pattern because he’s from Clute (of Mosquito Festival fame!) which is much further South where Big Oil and the Houston/Sugarland sprawl has really eaten away the farms.

Every time I needed guidance, my mother’s family acted as a compass. When I was younger I spent a LOT of time traveling back and forth on I-10 to my great grandmother’s house in Port Arthur, not to mention all my cousins scattered between there Beaumont and Nederland. My relatives are scattered all across south Texas from Corpus Christi to Nacogdoches. When in doubt I just dipped into the family well. LOL

Certain East Texas habits made the local Hixville patois easier to depict:

  • The exaggerated, old-school politesse that Sirs and Ma’ams and euphemisms its way out of tight spots and ugly situations.
  • The soft lilt of a question that takes the end of a sentence up, even when you’re stating something definitively.
  • Compression and discard: “up the house” instead of “up at the house.”… “They’s no way” instead of “There is no way.”…“Yessir” instead of “Yes, sir.”
  • a rural frame of reference for symbolic language that charges local objects with meaning: agriculture, tack, feed, equipment, trucks, critters, crops, clothes, rodeos, auctions… anything that feeds the Texan myth is fair game.
  • humor and hyperbole to make the point: curmudgeons and complainers are “contrary as a hog on ice” Schmoozers and conmen are “slick as spit.”
  • aphorisms shamelessly harvested from my mother’s family in Beaumont and Port Arthur: “a few ants short of a picnic,” “S.O.B. curves,” “God willing and the Creek don’t rise.”
  • Friendly understatement for moments of rage or frustration: “Ain’t he just,” “the sweetest thing,” “bless her heart” for folks you want to murder with a two-by-four.

No matter what Hollywood has taught you, Southern is not a monolithic descriptor. Arkansas, Georgia, and Alabama sound total different from each other, and Texas even more so. Frankly, Texas is so big and complicated that different areas of the state sound like separate countries.

One of my cousins once told me the reason southerners talk and walk and live so slow is because it’s TOO DAMN HOT to hurry anything. That’s definitely a factor with folks from rural Texas. The temperature and humidity down there determines the architecture, the work rhythm, the clothes, and even the way people socialize…but it’s more complicated than trying not to sweat.

By the same token, people from other places think all southerners talk super-slowly, but that’s nonsense. What they do is talk musically. There’s a rhythm and a melody to conversations which can change the course of events if you know what you’re doing. Some Texans talk faster than auctioneers, but they still take a while to make the point because they tend to take detours in conversation. A real drawl becomes a kind of secret code that lets folks signal where they’re from and what their mood is.

Over the course of Lickety Split, Patch starts to recognize all the little things he misses about his hometown in Hardin County and inadvertently allows the thread of East Texas to wind back into his speech, unconsciously and then because he starts to feel like part of his community. That twang brings him home, and closes the gap with Tucker.

The funniest bonus to writing Lickety Split is that having lived in Hixville with Tucker and Patch and all the supporting players for those months, I found Texas-isms leaking back into my own speech… almost as if I’d literally flown home for an extended stay…as if my time in the book took me home. Even now that the book is finished and out in the world, if I read even a page of the book I catch myself sounding Texan, which tells me the story (and all its twangs) takes folks to exactly the right place.

Damon Suede

Bio: Damon Suede grew up out-n-proud deep in the anus of right-wing America, and escaped as soon as it was legal. Though new to romance fiction, Damon has been writing for print, stage, and screen for two decades. He’s won some awards, but counts his blessings more often: his amazing friends, his demented family, his beautiful husband, his loyal fans, and his silly, stern, seductive Muse who keeps whispering in his ear, year after year. Get in touch with him at:


Lickety Split: love won’t wait.

Patch Hastle grew up in a hurry, ditching East Texas for NYC to make his name as a DJ and model without ever looking back. When his parents die unexpectedly, he heads home to unload the family farm ASAP and skedaddle. Except the will left Patch’s worst enemy in charge: his father’s handsome best friend who made his high school years hell.

Tucker Biggs is going nowhere. Twenty years past his rodeo days, he’s put down roots as the caretaker of the Hastle farm. He knows his buddy’s smartass son still hates his guts, but when Patch shows up growed-up, looking like sin in tight denim, Tucker turns his homecoming into a lesson about old dogs and new kinks.

Patch and Tucker fool around, but they can’t fool themselves. Once the farm’s sold, they mean to call it quits and head off to separate sunsets. With the clock ticking, the city slicker and his down-home hick get roped into each other’s life. If they’re gonna last longer than spit on a griddle, they better figure out what matters—fast.

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In this excerpt from Chapter Four, the day after their first awkward, intense sexual encounter Patch takes a dip in the pond not expecting Tucker to show up.

On the big rock near the pond’s center, Patch stood again and scraped the water from his wavy hair. He had a memory of his pa balancing him on a horse as a boy. Steady now. The sun felt like heaven through his closed eyes. He turned and dove back in.

Even at its deepest, the water only came up to his chest and the carp in the weeds weren’t something he’d ever eat. The bottom was broken rock at one end and cool mud at the other.

Patch had learned to jerk off against those flat rocks, snuck beers, and smoked the only two cigarettes of his life too. Sophomore year, he’d fooled around on the rockier shore with teammates because it was private and navigable in the dark. Against that tree, he’d kissed his first girl (meh) and blown his first boy (yeah!).


Patch stiffened and straightened, twisted to face the gravelly drawl with a cold twist in his gut.

Tucker stood on the opposite shore in Carhartt overalls and that straw work hat. His muscular arms looked tan and greasy against his white undershirt. “I guess we had the same idea.” He glanced at the sky, the water. “It’s hot as a whorehouse on nickel night.” He shifted his weight but came no closer.

A flicker of Tucker naked in the armchair, glittering eyes gazing down at him, the taste of his semen pinning them both in place… Patch blinked it away, hyperconscious of his wet, bare skin and the distance between them. He went no closer to the pebbly shore.

They eyed each other. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three—

“So…. Uhh.” Tucker took his hat off with one hand and wiped his brow and mouth with the other. “We talking?”

Patch frowned, trapped by his nudity and the water.

“I mean, do we talk about what we done?” Tucker crouched at the water’s edge, his boots sinking into the smooth mud. No one had a right to look that good. “Last night. Or are you fixin’ to run off again?” He said run like a cuss word, painting Patch a coward for having some sense.

Patch started to snap back at him out of habit, but then he thought better of it. “Naw.”

“How you today?” Tucker seemed to be actually asking a legitimate question. “Better?”

He shrugged. “I guess. Sure.” Exposed and motionless, he let Tucker’s gaze rest on him across the water. Whatever had passed between them last night had not vanished in sunlight.

Tucker looked relaxed, and cautious.

Patch swallowed, his shaft fattening underwater. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

He crossed his arms. “Which part?” Tucker squinted. “Come to visit? Squirted the side of my trailer? Eaten my load?”

“None. All.” Knowing it was a mistake, certain he would regret it, he pushed through the cool water toward the one person he had no business wanting. He moved as he would’ve for a racy photo shoot, fucking the imaginary lens with his presence, demanding a reaction.

Tucker watched him warily from under the trees still, overalls hanging from one strap. “I guess we are.” A crooked smile bent the edge of his mouth. “Talking.”

The closer Patch got to the shore the more of his torso was revealed: nipples, navel, and gradually the darkened trail down to his pubes. His dick thickened and shifted in the water, swirling around his waist as he advanced. Now his body was clean but his thoughts were everything else.

Tucker stared as if hypnotized. He wiped his lower face, lip to chin, and swallowed. He was sweating now. Was that a boner in his overalls?

Patch strode in slow motion, stirring the calm pond water as if sleepwalking. He shouldn’t want this so much but couldn’t make himself care. Conscious of the picture he made, he crooked a sinful grin just for effect.

Eyes wider, Tucker stood and took a step back. “Well, okay, now. Okay.”

“You afraid of me now?” Patch paused one step before his erection broke the surface. Tucker stood as if rooted to the shore. “Or you gonna come for a swim?”

“I’m good.” Tucker swallowed and his tongue slipped out to taste his lips. He couldn’t seem to look at Patch’s face. “Fine. Y’know.” His hands squeezed and released beside his pockets.

So Patch took the step that brought his knob out of the water and his boner dripped between them. Way too much fun watching the big cowboy squirm. He’d come out here looking for trouble; Patch was happy to give it to him.

On the shady shore, Tucker rocked back on his heels and shifted his straw hat to cover the lump under his coveralls.

Patch couldn’t look anywhere else. Another step. The cool mud sucked at his toes in the water dripped from his skin with each step he shouldn’t take.

How had he gotten here? Naked on the family farm, thigh-deep in stagnant water, walking toward a bear trap. New York City and all its fancy bullshit seemed like the other side of the world. Hot wind pushed through the trees overhead; the kudzu hissed and the live oaks whispered above them.

Tucker stood waiting and wary now, a sexy, lazy no-account who’d only ever wanted to scare him straight. They both knew better, but now they stood a yard apart with disaster churning between them.


Excerpted from Lickety Split by Damon Suede

published by Dreamspinner Press

Copyright 2016. Damon Suede. All Rights Reserved


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If You Like to Read and Review Books – Randi Alexander

If you’d enjoy being a member of my Review Crew, I’d love to have you join! Ask me any questions, or click the link below for more information, and details on how to join.

Randi's Review Crew

Join Randi’s Review Crew

Happy Spring!
“Rode Hard and Put Up Satisfied”

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A Sneak Peek at an Upcoming Title by Maddie James

Earlier in the month I gave my newsletter subscribers a sneak peek into my May release, a Sable Hunter Hell Yeah! Kindle World title. My newsletter subscribers always get the goodies first, so now I’m ready to share it here too! (By the way, if you haven’t signed up for my newsletter list, where you can get all of the news before everyone else, you can sign up here–and get a free book too!

Here’s a sneak peek at Good Enough.

Good-Enough-without-logoMira Featherston knows her place in life and it’s not with Jake Remington. After all, rich guys play on the wrong side of the tracks but they don’t bring girls like her home to mama. Becuase she has no expectations beyond the moment, Mira doesn’t mind playing. And she loves toying with the bad boy Jake Remington—but not when it gets her into trouble with her boss, Heath McCoy.

Jake Remington is a wealthy Texas cowboy and attorney whose family ranch borders the McCoy Highlands ranch. He now practices in Kentucky and owns his own little domain there, a thoroughbred horse farm. He’s back to settle a land dispute between his parents and neighboring ranchers, and the McCoys. His plan is to take care of business, and get the hell out of Dodge before he gets himself into trouble. Again.

Because trouble for Jake always comes in the form of Texas beauties he can’t keep his hands off. The last temptation ended up with a lawsuit. When he bumps into Mira coming out of his hotel room at Heath McCoy’s resort, keeping his hands off the hotel maid is impossible.

He’s fascinated by Mira. But with his past reputation, is he good enough for her?

Read Chapter One here.

And while I have your attention! I’m part of a huge #instafreebie giveaway right now. Check out the information below to grab yourself a bunch of cool, free books by my Novelist Inc friends and myself.

In need of a good read- (2)

Novelists, Inc. (Ninc) GIVEAWAY!

Some of the multi-pubbed authors from Novelists Inc. (aka Ninc) have gathered together to offer you (via InstaFreebie) these novels for free. You’ll find NY Times Bestsellers, USA Today Bestsellers and Award-Winning authors among our offerings.

Romance, mystery, thrillers, fantasy, YA…we’ve got something for everyone!

(You will be asked to subscribe to the author’s newsletter in exchange.)

These are full novels unless otherwise noted.

Where to get these fabulous novels FOR FREE?


This free offer is available through April 7. Tell your friends!

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Her Fated Cowboy by Donna Michaels

Her Fated Cowboy by Donna Michaels


First Ride Cowboy Collection

You Never Forget Your First…

Saddle up for a sexy ride with 18 bestselling and award winning authors as they share with you their first in a series. These cowboys will claim your heart with their rough edges and raw emotions. Dust off your boots, and join us for a ride you’ll never forget.





Her Fated Cowboy by Donna Michaels

Thrown back into the path of her first love, she finds hers is not the only heart fate has damaged.


Forget Me Knot by Lori King

Will her vacation into the heart of cattle country turn out to be a mistake?


Cowboy Crazy by Em Petrova

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.


Watching Fireflies by Jaycee Ford

A cowboy who knew nothing of love. A city girl who wishes she didn’t.


Sweet As Candy by Sidda Lee Rain

She may be the softness to smooth his rough edges. That is…if he can convince her to give an ol’ rodeo bum a chance.


Lazarus by Beth Williamson

Being a Graham isn’t easy, and it’s about to get a lot harder for one stubborn lawman and the woman who still owns his heart.


The Heartsong Cowboy by Melissa Keir

Can two people, one horse and the power of love cure a little girl?


Gimme Some Sugar by Stephanie Berget

She’s is a genius with cupcakes and croissants. He needs a ranch cook to whip up beef, beans and bacon. Love never tasted so good.


Cowboy Proud by D’Ann Lindun

She left town to chase her dreams…he stayed and ignored his…can they find love again?


Davis: Letters of Fate by Paty Jager

A marriage of convenience ignites into a steamy romance and brings two strong wills together.


Make Mine a Cowboy by Sandy Lea Sullivan

She writes fantasy cowboys for a living…but she never expected to find her own on the back roads of Hill Country, Texas.


Chocolate Cowboy by Kirsten Lynn

Returning to Wyoming two things surprised GySgt Jared Worrell…becoming the town chocolatier and Lucy Thomas. Coming home never tasted so sweet.


Montana Bachelor by Hildie McQueen

Rich Bachelor seeks Single Female who won’t mind complications of elite society, a suspicious father and an evil ex-girlfriend…


Cowboys Never Fold by Lexi Post

A cowboy honors a promise by working at a nudist resort but to win the sexy owner’s heart, he must bare more than his soul.


River’s Edge by Gem Sivad

From gunslinger to ranch owner. He’s finding respectability a lot more dangerous than his former life of sin.


Under Pressure by Rhonda Lee Carver

The Stone sisters know their way with a gun, rope, three-inch heels, and a cowboy’s heart.


Jake: Men of Clifton by Susan Fisher Davis

He can tame the wildest stallion, but can he tame a stubborn redhead that wants nothing to do with him?


The Real McCoy by Sabrina York

She mistakes him for a stripper…he is happy to comply!



Get a taste of:


Her Fated Cowboy by Donna Michaels

Harland County Series/Book 1/Cole

 her fated cowboy.jpg

Thrown back into the path of her first love, she finds hers is not the only heart fate has damaged.

L.A. cop Jordan Masters Ryan has a problem. Her normal method of meeting a crisis head-on and taking it down won’t work. Not this time. Not when fate is her adversary. Having kept her from the man she thought she’d always marry, the same fickle fate took away the man she eventually did. Thrown back into the path of her first love, she finds hers is not the only heart fate has damaged.

Widower and software CEO, Cole McCall fills his days with computer codes and his free time working the family’s cattle ranch. Blaming himself for his wife’s death, he’s become hard and bitter. When his visiting former neighbor sets out to delete the firewall around his heart, he discovers there’s no protection against the Jordan virus. Though she understands his pain and reawakens his soul, will it be enough for Cole to overcome his past and embrace their fated hearts?






“I hope you know what you’re doing, Jordan. My brother doesn’t have the same sense of humor as before. In fact, the hay in the loft has more humor than Cole. He’s fresh out.”

“Don’t you think it’s high time we rectified that?” She patted Connor’s arm. “I’ve only been here a few hours, and I’m already tired of Attila No Fun.”

He brought them to a halt and grinned. “Well, here’s your chance. This is his office. Holler if you need me. I’ll be just down the end of the hall.”

“Will do. Thanks.” She raised on tiptoes and kissed his handsome cheek. Damn, the man was tall. He had to be close to six-four. “Don’t work too hard.”

“Never.” He winked, then disappeared into his office.

Time to push some buttons. She turned back to Cole’s door, squared her shoulders and knocked.


She snickered and entered, shutting the door behind her. “You forgot, where, when, who, why, and how.”


He threw his pen down on the desk and hit her with so much fury in his gaze, she nearly stumbled backward.

“Is there a reason you’re here bugging me when I’m trying to work?”

She crossed the room on shaky legs and dropped into the leather chair in front of his oak desk. “You want the long list or the short list?”

“I don’t want any.” He glared.  “Get out.”

“No can do, McCall. That’s not on my list.”

“Jordan.” He pushed back from the desk. “So help me, if you don’t—”

“Wow. Did you know the vein in your neck bulges when you’re angry? You should do something about that.” She shook her head and clasped her hands in an attempt to hide her trembling fingers.

He closed his eyes and sucked in a long breath.

“That’s better. Deep, cleansing breaths.”

His eyes snapped open. “You’re still here?”

She laughed. “Yes. You can’t will me away, Cole. You know that.”

“Damn nuisance.” He straightened in his seat, folded his hands on the desk, and stared her in the eye. “What do I have to do to get you to leave?”

“Just talk.”

“Good. We did, now go.” He turned dismissively back to his computer monitor.

“No, I mean talk about you.” She crossed her legs and straightened her blouse.

“Sorry, sweetheart. That’s not what you said. Now, kindly get the hell out of my office so I can get back to work.”

No way. With her heart hammering out of control, she leaned closer. “Are you working on a game?”

“No.” He leaned closer, too. “It’s a photo’s program. Can I please get back to it now?”

“Soon, but first I wanted to tell you I was sorry about Bess.”

Okay, that came out clumsy.

Still, she’d expect him to react with sadness, grief, pain, even anger, but the unbridled fury reddening his face was bad. Very bad.

“For the love of Texas! Go!” He shot to his feet, rounded the desk, and glowered down at her.

Holy cow.

She rose and ordered her body to remain steady despite his murderous gaze.

Chest to chest, she stared up at him, refusing to show fear. “Look, Cole. I just want you to know I’m here if you need to talk.”

Tight lips and flared nostrils relayed his rage while the rapid, single blink of his eyes gave away his unease.

If he was uncomfortable with her being so close, why didn’t he step back? What was she saying? That would force him to show weakness, and heaven forbid the mighty Cole McCall should act human.

“I don’t want to talk,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

“Well, you know where to find me if you do,” she said, ignoring the warning voice in her head. “I can help with Bess—”

“I don’t need help with Bess! I need help with my program. So get the hell out of here, Jordan! Now!” Fisted knuckles cracked at his sides.

Sorrow, painful and deep, funneled into her heart. My God, he’s a mess. She had to convey some warmth to him.

Taking her life in her hands, she touched his arm. “I hate to see you like this, Cole. Just remember I have a good ear.”

“Fine. Duly noted.” Strong fingers clamped tightly around her wrist and pulled her to the door. “Now, kindly leave, and take your good ear with you.”

She snorted into a laugh. “You made a joke, Cole. Good for you.”

“Yeah, hurray for me. Now, leave.”

She sandwiched his hand between hers and squeezed. Let me in, she willed, staring into his cold gaze, hoping some of her compassion reached past the dark pit where he dwelled.

“Please, I can help you…” Her voice trailed off, leaving the ball in his court.

He volleyed. “I’m fine. Now, leave me the hell alone.” Yanking free, he glowered before throwing the door open. “Good night, Jordan.”

What he’d really meant was good riddance. She smiled. Too bad.

The devil inside made her stand tall, lean in and place a noisy, wet kiss on his taut cheek. “Night, McCall.”



About the Author


Donna Michaels is an award winning, New York Times & USA Today bestselling author of Romaginative fiction. Her hot, humorous, and heartwarming stories include cowboys, men in uniform, and some sexy, primal alphas. With a husband in the military fulltime, and a household of nine, she never runs out of material. From short to epic, her books entertain readers across a variety of sub-genres, and one is even being hand drawn into a Japanese translations.


Cowboys, Military & More…


To learn more about Donna Michaels and her books, or to join her mailing list, visit www.DonnaMichealsAuthor.com






Twitter: @Donna_Michaels


Amazon Author Page



Thanks for reading,



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Guest Blogger Damon Suede Shares AMBLIN’ MAN: the universal appeal of the cowboy saunter

Thanks so much for inviting me over to Wild and Wicked Cowboys to celebrate the release of Lickety Split. The book came out yesterday and I’m seriously proud of my first cowboy romance. I grew up in Texas, and my family owns a ranch, but it’s taken me a long time to find a story set down there that needed me to tell it. Patch and Tucker just wouldn’t take no.

Today, I wanted to talk about that walk that cowboys have. You know the one I mean, the easy good ol’ boy saunter that owns any room and draws the eye.

Country singles sing about that walk like it’s all in the loose hips, the hang of the jeans or even the scuff of the boots. Movie westerns focus on the props: chaps and spurs, saddle and lasso, but that’s not really it either. The gait can be bowlegged or stiff, easy or eager, but it conveys a total physical confidence right through any clothes that happen to be in the way.

Personally, I think it comes from spending a couple thousand hours on the back of a big animal in all weather, learning to work together. Just logic and habit. After a while you learn to work with the horse rather than against it, your hips give in and the two of you move like one thing at any pace from trot to gallop. It’s a dance of sorts, between your butt and the saddle, but you’re always rolling against the horse’s rhythm. That translates into the best two-stepping, that glorious, glassy glide you get dancing with folks from Texas, Arkansas, and parts of Oklahoma. LOL After a couple decades on horseback, you walk different, sit different…hell, you even stand different because riding changes the way you use your body and where you put your weight.

Growing up in Texas I saw it all the time, but I only really analyzed it the first time I tried to fake it.

Back in my twenties I was onstage in London playing a hustler at a theatre in Covent Garden. Now, these Brits had no experience of cowboys, or even Americans really, outside of tourists and sitcoms. My costume was pretty understated, loose jeans, old harness boots, and a longsleeved undershirt. It was the boots that gave me the idea.

For my initial entrance, I literally ambled on stage and stood silent for about 3 minutes before talking. To be fair, the walk I gave this character was stolen wholesale from my family’s farrier, a cocky young sumbuck who’d been a field hand, foreman, and even a stint as a bullrider, before he decided he liked his spine sound and his brains unscrambled and started shoeing horses for local ranches. And lord was he sexy… hotter than Hell in pajamas. LOL A legit kicker. That walk told a whole story and I swiped it.

In rehearsal, I didn’t even question the impulse: I was playing a male prostitute from a grubby Nevada town about the size of a train crossing and a gas station… The character wasn’t flashy or slick at all, but he needed to have a certain amount of relaxed swagger…which is how the farrier’s walk came to mind. No way in hell could I ever spend as much time on a horse as he had, and for all the mechanical bulls I’ve bested, I will never in my life sit on the back of the real thing. But this guy had done all that, a LOT… and the way he moved across a space just pulled your eye to him. So I took what I could, pulled on my Luccheses, and prayed for grace. LOL

This character had so few lines, but he needed to matter for the story to land right. I knew I could steal the whole play if I could make him dominate the space the way he needed to. Weeks I spent trying to approximate what came so natural to our farrier. In rehearsal, one of the actresses teased me about it, “That fookin’ strut!” and she’d slap my ass and laugh because it worked exactly as I’d hoped. The director was thrilled. I was doing a ghost of an impression of course, and I probably only got it about 20% right. But once we opened, that cowboy walk got me rave reviews (and even an oddball award) because of the illusion of history it built into the play. And ever since, I paid close attention to the way that walk works.

Anytime I read a cowboy romance, I’m always hyperattuned to the way the characters move. It’s probably easier to do it than write it; being onstage or on-film is one thing, but fiction’s a funny thing to help people visualize. So much of a story happens in heads: yours, the critics’, the readers’… Doesn’t matter really. I can always tell when authors really know how to talk that walk and usually they’re folks who know it well, better than I ever will.

When I started outlining Lickety Split, I spent a lot of time, more time than is sensible probably, thinking about how Patch Hastle and Tucker Biggs walked through the book. Of course, the way they moved taught me how they danced, fought, and fooled around. It mapped out their environment and their journey. Before I knew it their walks had given me their personalities, their backstories, their pacing, and even the book’s title: Lickety Split. 😛

Damon Suede

Bio: Damon Suede grew up out-n-proud deep in the anus of right-wing America, and escaped as soon as it was legal. Though new to romance fiction, Damon has been writing for print, stage, and screen for two decades. He’s won some awards, but counts his blessings more often: his amazing friends, his demented family, his beautiful husband, his loyal fans, and his silly, stern, seductive Muse who keeps whispering in his ear, year after year. Get in touch with him at:


Lickety Split: love won’t wait.

Likety Split Damon Suede

Patch Hastle grew up in a hurry, ditching East Texas for NYC to make his name as a DJ and model without ever looking back. When his parents die unexpectedly, he heads home to unload the family farm ASAP and skedaddle. Except the will left Patch’s worst enemy in charge: his father’s handsome best friend who made his high school years hell.

Tucker Biggs is going nowhere. Twenty years past his rodeo days, he’s put down roots as the caretaker of the Hastle farm. He knows his buddy’s smartass son still hates his guts, but when Patch shows up growed-up, looking like sin in tight denim, Tucker turns his homecoming into a lesson about old dogs and new kinks.

Patch and Tucker fool around, but they can’t fool themselves. Once the farm’s sold, they mean to call it quits and head off to separate sunsets. With the clock ticking, the city slicker and his down-home hick get roped into each other’s life. If they’re gonna last longer than spit on a griddle, they better figure out what matters—fast.

RAFFLECOPTER: a Rafflecopter giveaway



In this excerpt from Chapter One, Patch Hastle has just come back home to Texas from NYC for a reading of his parents’ will and discovered to his dismay that they’ve named Tucker Biggs, his mortal enemy and worst fantasy, executor of their estate.

The lawyer frowned. “Mr. Biggs had no idea you were en route today. I believe he planned to meet you home.” His home, she meant, because Tucker lived on the farm and Patch did not. What did she know? Everything. Hell, she’d written the will. She opened her mouth to say something, but Patch laughed again.

“Tucker Biggs can’t pay his water bill. He’s a….” BigotFraud. Sleaze. Loser. Prick. Bully. He didn’t bother to shield his distaste. And they put him in charge. “Mess. Hell, he lives in a trailer he stole from an ex-girlfriend in Lake Charles. On our land.”

She blinked, no longer charmed. “Unfortunately, we’re not authorized to take any kind of action without the executor. Do you know if he’s willing to sell?”

Shrug. His mind raced. “What can you tell me?”

She sounded distraught. “I assumed you knew.”

Head shake. “My parents and I had a falling-out.”

“There’s insurance, but your daddy might be deemed at fault because of the signals. I can file the paperwork, if you….” She turned toward the door. “…want.”

Boots on gravel, a tread he knew better than he’d ever admit out loud. He hated his heart for beating faster, his skin for prickling. A dull roar in his ears as the door flapped open and all the oxygen escaped.

“Patch?” A low rumbling drawl he remembered too well.

Patch braced himself before he looked up.

Sure enough, Tucker filled the doorway in a chambray shirt and a straw work hat that he took off as he stepped inside, likely because the lawyer was a lady.

There he stood, larger than life, with the same square sandpaper chin and twinkle in his wink that got him a free piece of pie anywhere he ordered iced tea. “Well, hell, son! Look at you all growed up.” He wiped at his chiseled mouth.

Just the same.

Patch frowned. He couldn’t believe Tucker looked so good, even now. He had to be midforties but his body looked— “Hey, Mr. Biggs.” He straightened but didn’t trust himself to stand.

Tucker hesitated just inside the threshold, letting the last of the cool air escape before bringing the heat inside with him. He blinked, squinted, and turned slightly as he entered, as if his shoulders were too broad to fit through. “Tucker, huh? Boy, it’s good to have ya home.”

It is?

He rolled the brim of his hat and rocked on his worn boots. Tough. “I ain’t seen you since… man, look atcha! I wouldn’ta known you.” The greeting seemed almost real. Tucker grinned as if he were glad to see Patch. “Lord, I ain’t seen you in five years.”

The calluses scraped his smooth palm. “Seven.” He shook the rough hand, squeezing it hard to make the point.

Tucker didn’t react. “Whenever you took off. Right thing, you did there.” Without letting go, he pulled Patch to his feet for a thumping hug that pressed their bodies together. “You’re a big un, huh?” He smelled like sawdust, machine oil, and sunburned skin.

Patch stepped away and took his seat again. “I’m almost twenty-three.” And now you’re old, mofo. Put out to pasture, only he didn’t look so worn out.

“Smart kid.” He sat down and squeezed Patch’s leg. “Lord, it’s good to see you.”

Baffled and overwhelmed, Patch nodded in reply, his entire attention focused on the firm pressure. A wet swallow.

Before today, Tucker had been friendly to him exactly twice, both times drunk. Patch’s sophomore year, the big cowboy had shaken his hand when he made the football team. The next year, he’d smiled and thumped Patch on the back at the Orange County rodeo. Ten total seconds of humanity in twenty-two-plus years. “Uh, same.”

Were they supposed to pretend that they’d been buddies? His dad’s best friend had been frank about his dislike from the time Patch was four and spent twelve years treating him like something you scrape off your boots.

Tucker rubbed his chin with his ridiculously thick fingers, dropping his gaze. “Son, I’m sorry for your folks. They sure loved you.” Except, on his lips the word became shore and the bullshit sounded plausible. His charm greased the lie.

Patch grunted acknowledgment but kept his mouth shut. Today was not a day for truth about how narrow and spiteful his parents had been.

Now he’d never get to make peace, no matter how much he’d wrestled with his devils these seven years. Tucker and the lawyer probably took his silence for grief, not regret. Ballad of the Small-Town Queer.

By junior year, Patch had become an unwelcome boarder in his parents’ house, paying his rent with chores and humiliation. He could talk to his dad a little, but his mama was a sad ghost who prayed for nothing and knitted booties for other people’s grandkids.

For ten sorry seconds his freshman year, he’d tried to make friends, play sports, anything to keep him away from the farm.

Coach Biggs killed that hope in the cradle.

Even before high school, Tucker had avoided Patch.

Freshman year, Tucker alternated between ignoring and insulting him, harassing him in front of the team and teachers, smacking him around to toughen him up. No one had blinked. Friend of the family. Later, when they’d been nothing more to each other than benchwarmer and bigot, they hadn’t exchanged two polite words.

Ms. Landry took a seat behind her desk, facing the two of them, mistaking the silence for affection and proximity for a reunion.

“Well….” Tucker broke the tense silence. Obviously he planned to pretend the past hadn’t happened. “Good you’re home. We’ll take care of ya.”

Patch sighed and looked at the linoleum. Long fucking day. He looked at his watch. “Ms. Landry?”

The lawyer opened a file and riffled through the pages. “Mr. Biggs?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry for the hour. I got the messages. Phone works fine, I just gotta be there to answer. We had a situation with a well.” The word came out sitch-ation and Tucker capped it with that crooked smile that turned panties into pussy willows.

She looked back, pink and fidgety. Great. Now she, like everyone else in this shithole county, thought Tucker was wonderful.


Excerpted from Lickety Split by Damon Suede

published by Dreamspinner Press

Copyright 2016. Damon Suede. All Rights Reserved


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Billionaire’s Baby Promise + Giveaway from Sarah M. Anderson


Another season, another bouquet of daffodils! 

Hi everyone, and happy Isn’t It Still Winter? I don’t think it is because look! The first daffodils of the season, a solid month early! Even the magnolia is about to bloom out. We had a cold January but it appears that we skipped Feb. and March all together and are currently having April. I’m not looking forward to the bugs this season, let me tell you.

But for now, please just enjoy my beautiful flowers!

Thanks to everyone who commented last week on Maggie Chase’s guest post. The winners of the giveaways were L. Raines and Martina A! Congratulations, you two! Look for your copies of His Topaz and Their Emerald in your inboxes!

Okay! I have another new book out this month, kicking off a super-busy spring. This month is Billionaire’s Baby Promise, which is the 8th book in the Beaumont Heirs series! Finally, we figure out who the mysterious Daniel Lee is!

Daniel FINALBlurb:

For the baby’s sake

Secretive billionaire Daniel Lee is known for being ruthless. But he’s discovered his conscience when it comes to Christine Murray. Once, he’d smeared her name to win a campaign. Now that she’s back in the spotlight, with a precious baby to protect, Daniel’s determined to make amends. Even if rescuing Christine and her daughter means sweeping them away to a life he shares with no one

He’ll do anything to earn Christine’s trustand to have her in his bed. But now that the sexy single mom and her adorable daughter are on his turf, he can’t seem to let them go…

Billionaire’s Baby Promise buy links: Amazon | B & N | iBooks | KoboIndieboundGoogle | Harlequin

I really love how this book came together, you guys. I drew on my experiences teaching English as a Second Language to Koreans in northern Chicago to help me understand how Daniel and his mother lived in Chicago. (I also drew on the one time I took my Kid to the Children’s Museum at Navy Pier. Write what you know!)

And, just like always, I have a super-steamy excerpt just for you guys!

This? Christine grinding down on his erection, holding him by the wrists and nipping at his lower lip while her breasts rubbed against his chest?

This was all about the emotion.

“I don’t like you,” she whispered fiercely as she pushed herself up and let go of his wrists. “I don’t.”

He heard the lie in her voice and felt it in her hands as she jerked the fly of his pants open. He wouldn’t have thought he could get any harder—but this thing between them—it wasn’t like anything he’d ever felt before.

The fact that she made him feel at all—it was something. Did she even realize that? “I want you so bad,” he groaned again as her fingertips stroked over him through his boxer briefs.

“Stop talking.” She yanked his pants down a little and shoved his briefs aside. “Just stop talking, Daniel. I had to change who I was because of you—” She stroked him once, “and move to a new place.” She rose over him again and positioned him at her entrance. “I had to leave behind my friends and my job and—” She bore down on him and he slid up into her in one hard thrust. “Oh, God,” she moaned.

“Christine,” he got out through gritted teeth. She was hot and wet and tight around him, gripping him with such urgency that he almost came right then and there.

He cupped her breasts in his hands, trying to figure out how to get to her skin. Her body and the way she was surrounding him was all he could see and feel and think. But it wasn’t enough. He needed more. God, he’d never needed more in his life.

“No.” For a split second, he thought she’d changed her mind and a part of him nearly died. But instead of throwing herself off him, she grabbed his hands and held them against the back of the couch. “I’m doing this, Daniel.” With that, she began to rise and fall.

“You’re in charge,” he managed to say before his mind quit trying to think. “That’s it. Ride me. Ride me hard.”

“Shut up.” Her mouth crushed down onto his again with such savage fury that he knew he was going to be bruised and he didn’t care.

He took it all—all of her rage, her lust, her burdens. He took everything she had to give him. He thrust up into her and, when her head fell back with a low moan, he leaned forward and dragged his teeth over the layers of flannel, biting and sucking until he had one of her nipples hard and pointed. He nipped at her again until she released one wrist and, threading her fingers through his hair, shoved his head back. “You do that again and I’ll stop.”

That noise—needy, almost a whimper—that wasn’t him, was it? It was. She’d reduced him to this—and God help him, he liked it.

He did what he could—thrusting up into her with a steady rhythm, rolling with her when she shifted from side to side. He let her chase her orgasm at her own speed. It was hers to take.

Still, his control started to fray as she rode him. She felt so good that, although he needed to come, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want this to end.

“Daniel,” she moaned, falling and rising faster and faster. “Oh—Daniel.”

“Yeah,” he said, encouraging her. “You feel so good.”

“Shh,” she hissed before grinding down on him.

Daniel felt her body tighten, heard the noises of desire from high in the back of her throat. “Take it, Christine,” he said as her grip on his hands tightened.

And then he couldn’t hold back. As her body held his in the throes of her climax, his control slipped and he came with her.

She collapsed onto his shoulder, panting heavily. Her arms went around his neck and his went around her waist and they were right back to where they’d started in the kitchen—except it was more intimate now because he was still inside of her.

His head began to clear from the fog of lust—and that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

He’d just had sex with Christine.

On the couch. Without a condom.

In his condo.

Where he’d never even brought a woman home before.

And then it only got worse because Christine pushed off him and then completely off the couch. She stood while the hem of her nightgown floated back down to her feet and then, before Daniel could do anything, say anything, she whispered, “Good night,” and moved away from him.

He hadn’t even been able to come up with a reasonable compliment, for God’s sake.

She had taken everything he had.

Turnabout was fair play, it seemed.

WHEW! That is some steamy stuff! I love that, even though Christine and Daniel are not equals in terms of wealth or position, she still manages to put him in his place.

This month, I’m giving away the entire Beaumont Heirs backlist! Yes! All 7 books to one lucky commenter! All you have to do is tell me–how do you keep the bugs at bay? Those damned mosquitos come at me and I hate them a lot. I’m thinking of buying an indoor bug zapper but I’m always on the lookout for better coping methods (besides wine, of course.)

I’ll be back next month with the book I’ve been waiting years to write–Tom Yellow Bird in Pride and Pregnancy! Wohoo!

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Name that property! Rhonda Lee Carver

Hi, everyone. I can’t believe it’s March already. February flew by in a whirlwind. We’ve had severe thunderstorms with flash flooding here in Ohio. I don’t mind the thunderstorms, but I hate when my phone alert goes off in the middle of night warning me. I jumped up so fast I hit my head on the headboard.

Can you help me? I need a unique name for a resort in the Tennessee Hills. Let me tell you a bit about the property. It has a handful of cabins, amazing views and veterans will visit to get the services they need after suffering head trauma. The owner is an Army Ranger. What do you think would be a fitting name? If you have a perfect one, answer in the comment section. I might select your answer and use it in my newest book…The Darkest Knight (#2, The KNIGHT Brothers). RELEASING 3/29/17


99 Penny Preorder!

Preorder here!




Reese Shane’s life was changed forever when she suffered a traumatic head injury while on duty in Iraq. Three years later, she’s left with epileptic seizures along with a service dog that alerts her to oncoming seizures.

Army Ranger Seth Knight, also known as Dark Knight, isn’t a stranger to danger or trauma. A bomb explosion during a covert mission left him scarred physically and, more importantly, emotionally. With no interest in his family’s fortunes and glamorous social revelries, he has secluded himself on the large property his father left him in the Tennessee hills. He likes being alone, but when a fiery spirit shows up on his doorstep, his peace and quiet gets a makeover.

Reese’s work helping injured veterans is jeopardized when Angelina Knight passes away. She had promised to financially back Reese’s project. Now Reese must turn to plan B: Seth Knight. She’s heard the rumors of the recluse in the mountains and isn’t sure how she’ll convince the angry soldier why he should open his secret haven to veterans when he wants nothing to do with her, or her dreams.

Little does she know, but will find out, that the “Dark Knight” has many layers, and badass isn’t the only one.

Seth thinks he’s agreeing to help Reese, but soon he’ll find out that she is the one saving him…





street team





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