BACHELOR AUCTION! by Myla Jackson

PromoBannerBootsBachelor

I love reading about bachelor auctions and placing myself in the shoes of some lucky woman purchasing a date with one of the hunky heroes being auctioned off. Make him a big, hulking cowboy of Scottish descent and I’m buying it! That’s what you’re getting in my newest story in the UGLY STICK SALOON series. Saddle up and get ready for a fun ride in Temptation, TX with Angus McFarlan.

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Now sit back and enjoy a blurb and excerpt from :

Boots and The Bacholor
by Myla Jackson

Welcome back to the Ugly Stick Saloon!

BootsAndTheBachelor300Blurb:

A cowboy takes a woman and her son under his wing…and teaches their hearts to fly.

Angus McFarlan’s mother can’t be serious. Sell the ranch? Yet Mom has a point. Bringing the Rafter M out of bankruptcy has kept Angus and his brother too busy to date, let alone have children to inherit the legacy.

The last thing Angus wants is to get half-naked for the Ugly Stick Saloon’s Annual Cowboy Auction, but it’s a jump start into the dating scene. His buyer turns out to be a Dallas businesswoman, all legs and curves—a challenge to unwrap from that sexy, buttoned-down suit.

CEO Gwendolyn Graves has no time for a relationship. All she needs is a male role model for her young son, Dalton. She never thought her bachelor cowboy would impose conditions of his own. Like make her agree to spend time with him. Alone.

As Angus teaches Dalton what it means to be a man, he and Gwen discover a passion that ignites flames they thought they didn’t have time to fan. And soon find themselves learning how to open their hearts and be a family. Just when they start thinking longer term, Dalton’s father re-enters the picture—and trouble isn’t far behind.

Warning: Quiet, sexy cowboy and woman in a tight suit get all unwrapped and tangled in the sheets in Texas.

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Excerpt:

Copyright © 2015 Myla Jackson
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

“That’s what we need,” Colin commented.

“What’s that?” Angus asked.

“A relationship like Audrey and Jackson have.”

“Those are so few and far between.” Angus slid off the stool. “Ready to go?”

Colin’s brows wrinkled. “Come on, Angus. Stay. I’m getting a kick out of watching this whole process.” He glanced around the room. “I can’t wait to see the next schmuck they conned into this.”

“Might be worth it if they were auctioning off a cook. With Mom on strike, we’re going to suffer.”

“Shh. Charli’s about to announce the next cowboy.” Colin leaned forward, a grin spreading across his face. “Gotta see who will be the next sucker.”

“Ladies, this next hunkilicious man is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for some lucky woman. He’s tall at six feet two inches.”

“Ahhh,” the crowd sighed as one.

“He’s got black hair and amazing gray eyes.” Charli dragged it out, spurring their anticipation.

Angus shook his head. Somewhere behind the stage or in the crowd, a cowboy was probably shaking in his boots, dreading the moment his name was announced and he was paraded around the stage like a pony.

“Descended from strong Scottish warlords, he’s a true-blue, honest-to-goodness, rough-around-the-edges rancher with big, calloused hands.” Charli paused and winked at the women. “You know what that means.”

The women screamed and clapped, beer sloshed and laughter followed. Every numbered paddle in the room fluttered.

Colin elbowed Angus in the ribs. “I could swear they’re describing you.”

Angus leaned forward, his heart stuttering against his ribs. He drew in a breath and held it.

“Ladies, our next offering will be for not one, not two, not three dates with this hunka hunka burnin’ love. The lucky winner gets four dates with a man some would call a horse whisperer, a real-life cowboy, boots and all.” Charli stared across the room, straight into his eyes. “One of Texas’s most eligible bachelors, Angus McFarlan!”

Colin shouted, “Hot damn!” Then he laughed so hard he doubled over, a hand pressed to his side, and fell off his stool.

How could this be? “I didn’t sign up for this,” Angus said, but wasn’t heard over the shouts and catcalls from the hundreds of horny women in the crowd.

Still sputtering, Colin pointed a finger at him. “You should see your face. I can’t believe she did this.”

“Who?” Angus would like to get his hands around the throat of whoever had played this rotten trick on him.

“Who do you think? Mom!” Colin slapped Angus on the back. “You’re in it now. These women won’t let you back out.”

“Come on up to the stage, Angus.” Charli crooked her finger and grinned. “The ladies want to see what they’re getting for their money.”

Angus turned to run, but was blocked by Greta Sue, the bar’s bouncer.

“Come on, cowboy, we’ll get you there in one piece.” Greta Sue grabbed his hand in her manlike grip and charged forward like a linebacker breaking through the defensive line of an opposing football team.

Angus tried to free his hand, but Greta Sue held tight. Short of hurting her, he had to go along.
Women touched, pinched and kissed his cheeks as he passed through the crowd. One of them caught hold of his shirt and wouldn’t let go. With Greta Sue pulling him one direction and his shirt going the other, the buttons gave, popping one at a time until the last one ripped free of the fabric. The shirt came off as he was pushed and shoved from behind, with Greta Sue leading the charge in the front.

The only good thing about making it to the stage was that Greta Sue released his hand and the women couldn’t pinch his ass. Angus stood, glaring at the rabid females, rubbing his butt and wishing he were anywhere but there. The exit seemed so far away. He spun, hoping to duck out the back of the stage, but Greta Sue stood behind him, her arms crossed, feet spread.
He could knock her down and make a run for it, but his mama had taught him better than to hit a woman, no matter how manly she might be. Getting through the crowd to the exit was not even the slimmest possibility.

Charli stood to the side, with that damned silly grin on her face. “What will you give for four dates with this mass of purely masculine muscle?”

Angus closed his eyes and prayed no one would bid. That he’d be allowed to walk free of this huge embarrassment. When he got home, he’d have a long talk with his mother about volunteering him for charity events he had no desire to be a part of.

“Five hundred dollars!” a woman shouted, waving her paddle from the middle of the room.

Angus’s hopes for a humiliating but commitment-free escape melted away as the first paddle rose high in the air.

“Do I hear seven-fifty?” Charli prompted.

“Yup!” Another paddle shot into the air.

“One thousand. Do I hear one thousand dollars?” Charli barely got the words out before another paddle rose.

“Me!” the woman cried out.

Angus stared out into the mass of eager female faces. “Ms. Fenton?” Was that the gray-haired librarian he used to visit once a month as a kid?

“That’s right, sweetie, I might be old, but I’m not dead.” She winked at him. “At least not yet. And I’d like a little beefcake to keep me warm for four delicious dates.”

Angus’s eyes widened. Holy shit. What was it about a cowboy auction that got the young and old single women to come out of the woodwork and blow their hard-earned cash on a few measly dates?

“Fifteen hundred anyone?” Charli stared around the room.

Angus did too, wondering if anyone would outbid Ms. Fenton and rescue him from four dates with a woman old enough to be his grandmother but with a wicked grin that frankly had Angus quivering in his boots.

The bidding stalled and Angus had to do something to get it going again, or he would be spending the next month taking Old Lady Fenton out to dinner. Not that she wasn’t nice and all, but the way she was rubbing her hands together made him as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

Desperation drove him to do something he would never have done in a million years.

Angus tightened his abs and shoved a hand through his thick hair, pausing like the models and weightlifters did to show off the hard-earned six-pack definition across his belly. He hadn’t gained those muscles in a weight room. Tossing hay bales and lifting heavy fence posts did that to a man over the years.

God, he felt silly, but the crowd surged forward and eyes widened.

“One thousand going once…” Charli started.

“Fifteen hundred!” The woman who’d shouted was probably in her forties.

Angus nodded. Better. He couldn’t expect the younger ladies to have that kind of money. Dating a cougar wouldn’t be bad. Hopefully, she wouldn’t expect more than the four dates and he’d be done. Free to spend time with his horses.

“Turn around!” another woman shouted.

“Come on, Angus,” Charli said. “Turn around and let the women see the whole package.”

He frowned at her.

“It’s for a good cause,” Charli cajoled.

“Come on, Angus,” Colin’s deep voice called out over the others. “Show ’em whatcha got.”

Angus made a slow turn and paused with his back to the crowd, feeling incredibly stupid.

“Fifteen hundred going once…” Charlie gave a long pause, “…going twice…”

“Five thousand dollars!”

Angus spun toward the sound of utter insanity, searching the faces for the one woman who’d shouted.

Every face in the crowd turned as well, and they all seemed to be looking at the lady standing beside Mona at the bar. The auburn-haired woman who’d, for a brief moment, reminded Angus of someone who’d stolen his heart so many years ago. His chest tightened, and he squinted against the stage lights, but couldn’t quite make out her face.

“Sold!”

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Cowboy Chocolate Cake — Em Petrova

Hello, friends! Last month I missed my blog date, and I sincerely apologize! During that time, I was doing a massive edit of ROPE BURN, book 5 of my Boot Knockers Ranch series and finishing COWBOY NOT INCLUDED, book 6, at the same time!

 

So I’ve neglected y’all and I’m here to remedy that–with something sinful and rich and devlish… That’s right–chocolate cake!

 

I’m sharing my Texas Sheet Cake recipe because every cowboy would melt over this–plus, it’s my birthday month and somebody better make it for me LOL.

 

 

Homemade chocolate sheet cake with nuts (Texas sheet cake)

 

Here’s what you’ll need:

2 sticks unsalted butter melted (yes, 2! We’re not making heart-healthy, gluten-free, carob vegetarian cowboy chocolate cake)

Melt in a saucepan and while it’s melting, add:

1 cup of hot water

When butter melted add:

4 heaping TBSP cocoa powder

Mix

Add:

1 cup boiling water

Allow to boil for 30 sec and set aside

In another bowl combine:

2 c flour

2 c sugar

1/4 tsp salt

stir then pour hot chocolate mixture into it slowly, mixing as you go

Mix together in another bowl (yes, this is 3 things you’re washing afterward, but it’s soooo worth it!):

1/2 cup buttermilk (if you don’t have this, add some vinegar to reg milk and voila!)

1 tsp vanilla

2 eggs

1 tsp baking soda

 

Add all to chocolate mixture and stir well. Pour into a greased baking sheet. Bake 350 degrees F for 20 minutes. In the meantime, make the topping!

In saucepan, add:

1 3/4 cups of regular butter (cowboys don’t have heart attacks, don’t worry)

4 heaping TBSP cocoa (yes, again!)

stir together, bubble 30 seconds

turn off heat and add:

1 tsp vanilla

1 lb of powdered sugar (Believe me, you’ll work this off later in bed with your cowboy, so don’t give a thought to those calories.)

Stir together, add 1/2 cup chopped pecans and dump over cake while it’s still warm. It’s going to ooze together and run down the sides of the pan. If there’s extra frosting, I’m sure you’ll know what to do with it *wink*

 

Now for a little food fun from the Boot Knockers Ranch. Read on for an excerpt of ROPIN’ HEARTS:

RopinHearts

In silence they rode up to a group of cows. A small herd, freshly branded by the looks of it.

“New cattle?” he asked.

She circled the group and back toward him. “Yes, quarantined.”

His brows shot up. “Why?”

“Couple died two days ago. Daddy had a vet up here but he didn’t know the cause of death.”

“Where’d they come from? Might have been travel stress.”

“We don’t think so. Daddy thought it best to keep them away from the rest of the herd, so they were brought here. Help me count.”

A minute later they said at the same time, “Fifty-six.”

She smiled, stabbing him in the heart like sun to the eyes of a man too long in darkness.

He wet his lips. “Is that the right number?”

“Yes. We haven’t lost any.”

“Good.” He snagged her reins and yanked her horse to a stop. Then he pulled her right out of the saddle and into his arms. She thumped against his groin, her ass nestled against his hard-on, her lips close.

“Ty.” Her voice was a warning but her body quivered.

“Ride with me. Let’s just talk.” He settled her into the saddle before him, leaving her horse to crop grass as they trotted in a leisurely pace across the field.

He placed his lips near her ear. “Favorite toy as a child?”

She turned her head, placing her delicious lobe right between his teeth. He bit down gently, and she burrowed closer. “Uhh…a baby doll I called Jenny.”

“Bet you took good care of her.”

She giggled and writhed as he nibbled up the shell of her ear. “Not really. I cut off all her hair and left her in the rain.”

“Bad girl.” He pinched her ass, raising a gasp. God, he wanted to keep her panting under him all night long on sweaty, twisted sheets.

He kissed the sensitive spot on her throat, and she fell still. “Favorite meal?”

“Chicken and biscuits.”

“Mmm. Good choice.”

“What’s yours?”

“Bree with a side of whipped cream.”

“That’s…” pant, pant, “…not a meal.”

“It will be, I promise you.”

“I thought we were…talking.” Her breathing hitched as he swirled his tongue over the column of her throat, flicking down into her open shirt collar. He loved her in ranch attire. All buttoned up and wearing everything but spurs, she was more tantalizing. Maybe because he knew what was underneath all that fabric.

“We are talking, baby girl. Where do you see yourself in five years?”

“What—is this a job interview?”

“Answer the question.”

She was silent for so long he grew concerned enough to stop sucking her neck and turn her face to look at him.

“You don’t know, do you?” he asked.

Her eyes were too bright. With tears? Damn, he didn’t want to upset her.

“No,” she whispered.

“That’s okay. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know either. That doesn’t mean we can’t do great things together.” The emotions he had for her needed more time to settle in his mind. He needed to see where they fit into his life—and hers.

 

PREORDER ROPIN’ HEARTS releasing June 9

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May 20-June 9

GRAPHIC

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Also in the Boot Knockers Ranch series:

Body Language

Reining Men

 

Em Petrova

~hardworking heroes–in bed and out~

Website

Goodreads

Amazon Author Page

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Get 12 Hot Firemen-Cowboys for only $.99 – Randi Alexander

12 Alarm Cowboys is up on pre-sale! This means you click now, then on August 4, this scorching boxed set – with all-new novellas from twelve of your favorite cowboy romance authors – will appear on your e-reader. Pretty cool, right?

Randi Alexander Hot Cowboy Firemen

We offer these tales of cowboy-firefighters as our salute to all firefighters and emergency response personal who save lives while risking their own. Thanks to Kathryn Falk for the idea and the support.

Don Allen is our hot cover model, and he’s also on four of the individual book covers, including mine. What do you think? He looks pretty darn good, right?

Randi Alexander Hot in the Saddle

My story in the boxed set is Hot in the Saddle. Here’s the book blurb:

Horse wrangler and off-duty firefighter Treven Arnett is the person closest to Delta Pennington’s racecar when it bursts into flames and spins onto the infield. Without a thought for his own safety, Treven reaches in and releases her, pulling her out and to safety seconds before her stock car explodes. Then he feels the pain.

Delta looks up into the eyes of a cowboy who risked his life to save her, but as his eyes cloud over, she notices his burns. She insists on staying and working his small horse ranch until he’s recovered, but the sexy cowboy makes it impossible for her to keep away from his hot loving. Serious thoughts of relocating to this quiet part of Texas surprise Delta as Treven urges her to give their future a shot.

When Treven learns that Delta has ulterior motives for her visit to his town, he’s angry enough to put her on a plane to anywhere, as long as it’s far away from him. But someone else is just as enraged with Delta’s plans; someone who could have possibly tampered with her racecar. Does Treven care enough for Delta to risk his life again for her?

*~*~*~*

Click to pre-order now at these wonderful sites:

AMAZON US
AMAZON UK
AMAZON CAN
AMAZON AU
iBOOKS
BARNES & NOBLE
KOBO

*~*~*~*

Time for me to get back to writing Treven and Delta’s story! And you know I have some hot scenes in mind. Have a great day.
Randi
“Rode Hard and Put Up Satisfied”
RandiAlexander.com
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Cowboy 12 Pack: Twelve Smokin’ Hot Stories for only $2.99
-Free Read! A Gentleman and a Cowboy is available at Amazon, Smashwords, All Romance Ebooks, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, iBooks

 

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Delilah Devlin: 4 Reasons to Get Warlord’s Destiny Now…

I love lists. So here’s one for you. And yes, this doesn’t have a thing to do with cowboys, but I figured, if you liked dominant men wearing wranglers and riding horses, you’d love dominant men who carry swords just as much! :)

4 Reasons to Get Warlord’s Destiny Now…

1) Do you love your warriors tall, well-muscled and with stamina to spare? Duh, right? Do you love a heroine with grit who’s not society’s notion of what’s perfect and beautiful? Someone you can relate to? Do you love it when a strong woman brings a proud warrior to his knees? Then you will love the hero and heroine of this book!

2) Do you love off-world, futuristic fantasy and medieval knights tales? How about a book that is both? Yeah, I was supposed to write a futuristic tale, but my hero kept insisting he was more Ragnar Lodbrok than Luke Skywalker. And since Ragnar is sexy as hell, I let my Lord Tetrik transform into my version of the perfect erotic romance hero…

3) Do you love a good orgy? I saw your eyes bug at that one. Six participants with all those sexy moving parts? For me, this was the most challenging scene in the book. How do you keep it fun and sexy and not confusing? If you’re curious, you have to get this book!

4) Right now, the price for this 21,000-word novella is just $0.99! Kindle Unlimited customers have a little longer to enjoy a great deal—they can get it for free for the next three months. But if you aren’t a KU subscriber, that $0.99 price isn’t going to last long! Grab your copy now!

And just a side note: If you enjoy the story, how about leaving a review? Somewhere. Or tell a friend. I appreciate everything you do! ~DD

WarlordsDestiny_600

“…In Delilah Devlin’s WARLORD’S DESTINY, a strong man is brought to his knees by an equally strong woman. Interesting, attractive personalities make this read especially powerful.”  ~Nominee for Best Paranormal Erotic Novel of 2005 by Romantic Times BookClub Magazine! TOP PICK! 4 1/2 Stars, RT BOOKreviews 
“Watching these two grow is both amusing and touching… I found Warlord’s Destiny to be a very well-written novel, and ultimately a very entertaining story to read.” ~Book Review Network

Mora has no illusions she’s anything other than the sacrificial lamb to ensure peace between her peace-loving planet and the warlike world that demands a royal union with one of their own. However, when she meets the rugged warlord who will be her husband, Mora decides in that moment to win his heart–she’ll settle for nothing less.

When Lord Tetrik suspects his wife harbors tender feelings, he wonders if he can be the husband she desires. After all, love for a woman is a frivolous thing–and not a warlord’s destiny.

Warning: Readers should beware. Wedding customs on other planets do not resemble tender newlywed customs on Earth! Expect a smidge of voyeurism and a 6-person ménage. And yes, a Kronaki warlord’s bed is built large enough for just such an event!

Purchase at Amazon  

So, that’s what Kronaki warriors look like!

Every story ever whispered about the fearsome warriors came rushing back to set Mora’s body trembling. How they fought like ravaging beasts, cutting bloody swaths through Graktilian mercenaries during the war. How they lived in rough, stone fortresses made of blocks carved from their frozen mountains. How they fostered their children to rival clans so they would be raised without gentleness.

How they fucked with such fury their women’s screams echoed throughout their valleys.

Mora felt a tremor rumble beneath the polished, marble floor of the great hall, so explosive was the swell of conversation that arose at the warriors’ arrival.

They were seven, dressed in furs and leather, armed with bows slung across their shoulders and scabbards at their sides.

She couldn’t drag her gaze from the man at the head of their formation, striding toward her—her husband in name, if not yet by deed. Although she had never seen him before this day, she knew it must be him, for he looked the fiercest, the strongest—only one such as he would be chosen to rule from amongst their ranks.

He was from a race of barbarians, seemingly as proud of their reputation for brutal warfare as their orgiastic sexuality. The latter, Mora could well believe for the man stalking her now looked every inch a sensual marauder.

A shiver of awe bit the base of her spine and trembled upward until the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood erect.

Taller by a head than any Mellusian, his broad shoulders nearly blocked out the sight of the two heralds dogging his steps as they attempted to halt him. He seemed not the slightest bit interested in following protocol by waiting for his name to be addressed to the assemblage. As if anyone attending the ceremony hadn’t already guessed who he was.

He’d also eschewed the fine wedding tunic Mora’s mother had personally designed—an embroidered silk affair that would have stretched absurdly across his bulging chest and arms.

No, he wore a vest of gray animal pelts that parted at the front, no doubt to tempt a woman’s gaze to ogle his obscenely muscled chest and follow the dark arrow of hair down his hewn abdomen. The black leather that encased his legs, strained over thickly corded thighs and the alarming swell of his manhood.

Mora’s heart tripped, and then fluttered like the wings of an aradil.

Her mouth dry, she forced her gaze upward to look at his face, but found no comfort there.

Lord Tetrik of Kronak—his name was as harsh as the angles of his square jaw and the sharp blade of his nose. His hair was dark like a moonless sky and worn like the old warriors in the paintings in History Hall—hanging past his shoulders with small braids on either side of his inflexible face. But his eyes frightened her most of all—chips of blue ice froze her in place as his gaze found hers across the noisy hall.

He would have to know she was his bride. She wore her wealth and importance in the weighty jewels studding her hair and gown and encircling her neck. She saw fury in that first glance. Had he already guessed he’d been cheated of the true prize? That her rich adornment was a ruse?

Her mother moaned behind her. “His ambassador said he was too busy to attend such an insignificant event. You should have worn the pink gown!” her mother hissed.

“It was covered in dirt, mother,” Mora whispered, keeping her gaze pinned on the man walking straight toward her. “It’s too late now, anyway. The ceremony is over.”

“He may still repudiate you. Oh, what were you thinking, digging in the garden on your wedding day?”

“I wanted a tuber rose to take with me to my new home.”

“As if a rose will grow in their rocky soil,” her mother said, her voice becoming thin and breathy the closer the warrior drew.

Mora hoped her mother didn’t choose this moment to faint. She suspected the Kronaki leader would scorn a woman frightened by the mere sight of him.

“That green makes your cheeks sallow,” her mother lamented, working herself into a high state of agitation. “You look as though you’re attending your own funeral.”

Mora couldn’t resist delivering a little dig. “Am I not? What do you think he’ll do once he finds himself wed to the wrong sister?”

“You should have worn the pink! It would have shown you to advantage.” She sounded on the verge of tears.

Her mother’s diatribe wore on Mora’s nerves. “Mother, it doesn’t matter if I wear the pink or the green, I’m no beauty. He will know. And by the look of that scowl he wears, he already does.”

“May the Goddess save us!”

“Hush, Hespha!” Her father finally intervened. “You frighten our daughter.”

Only that wasn’t quite true. Her mother’s words had the opposite effect, reminding Mora that by rights, her older sister should have been the one sacrificed to honor The Promise. But her sister had been deemed too delicate and hidden away when the day came to repay the decade-old debt owed the Kronaki. “She’d never survive the rigors of life on that harsh planet,” her father had said.

Her mother had been only too eager to agree to the substitution. Her delicate, slender little flower wouldn’t be surrendered to the barbarian. Instead, Mora stood in her place. She was anything but delicate—a fact that had pained and embarrassed her parents to no end all her life.

A flush of anger heated Mora’s cheeks. Try as she might, she couldn’t suppress the primitive emotion. Her parents thought so little of her they were willing to marry her to a beast. A black-haired beast that grew more enormous and intimidating as he approached the dais upon which most of the members of the Mellusian royal family stood.

Mora straightened her shoulders. Jewels and a fine gown would not deceive the man. She was dull quartz against the bright, blonde diamonds glittering inside the hall.

He stopped in front of the dais. The room fell silent while all in the assemblage strained to hear what he might say. His cold gaze raked her from head to toe. Even standing on the raised platform, she had to tilt her head to meet his glance.

Panic had her body tightening. Mora raised her chin another notch, unwilling to let him see her fear.

He lifted one dark brow, and his gaze swept her face, lingering over her lips. “What is your name?”

He knew! “Mora. I am Mora,” she said, surprised the words escaped her tight throat. Would he reject her? Strangely, she wasn’t certain she’d feel relief if he deemed her unfit. Humiliation at his hands would be the harder emotion to swallow.

His gaze cut to her father, and he nodded once. “It is done.”

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I AM MY BROTHER’S KEEPER

I’m working on TEXAS WILDFIRE, my contribution to the 12-Alarm Cowboy collection which is up for preorder now. YAY! Here’s my cover and the set and a link! I’m so proud of it. The authors are: Cora Seton, Sabrina York, Lexi Post, Becky McGraw, Cynthia d’Alba, Delilah Devlin, Randi Alexander, Beth Williamson, Donna Michaels, Elle James, Paige Tyler and SABLE HUNTER – YAY! – that’s me!

12packcover texaswildfire

And like all of my books, I have tried to give you reason to laugh, cry and get all hot and bothered. I love to include real life situations in my books like sorrow, heartbreak, violence, etc but after I do, I veer away from reality and always give my readers a Happy Ending. Why? Because that’s what we need. Real life is sad enough, so many times things don’t work out. So when I read, I want to escape, I want to have hope and let my dreams soar. That’s why my writing includes some tearjerker elements, but I will always let right prevail, love conquer all and reward my heroine for holding out for a hero. That’s the dream. That’s everyone’s hope, so I strive to deliver that to my readers.

In TEXAS WILDFIRE I write about a rancher who also is a volunteer firemen in his hometown. So many small places like where I’m from originally don’t have the funds to pay for a fire department, they have to have neighbors helping neighbors, men and women who will devote part of their time to providing an absolutely necessary service. Within that group of men and women will be those who can only answer calls and fight fires after work, and then there are those who will drop what they are doing and drive like a bat out of hell to the station, get their gear and go attempt to save a person’s home or work a wreck or save a life.

I have seen this all first-hand. I served as the Secretary-Treasurer for our hometown VFD for several years. And we worked hard, not only serving our community but fundraising so we could exist and have the gear our men needed to risk their lives. An unpaid, sometimes thankless, job like this takes a special breed of man to do. He has to be unselfish. He has to be able to put other’s needs ahead of his own. In TEXAS WILDFIRE, you will meet such a man. He’s not a perfect guy, because he’s in love with a woman who belongs to someone else. But he’s never made a false move, said not one word out of line. He has kept the love hidden and unrequited – until the day he finds out that she is in trouble and that everything is not what it seems. Then the hero has to be heroic, and stand up for someone who cannot protect herself. The backdrop is a Texas Wildfire to this love story so intense and hot that no one will come out of the blaze unscathed.

In an author’s life, inspiration comes from many places. In this case, the hero is inspired by someone I loved. The plot is not related to my memory, but the hero and his character, his outlook and his motivations are a direct recollection of the character and personality of a man who I will never forget. He was a big man, quiet and unassuming but strong and dependable. His chosen career wasn’t highbrow. He was a mechanic, always drove a sports car and could fix anything. Jerry was a country boy, never sought anything fancy or traveled great distances. When we would go to Dallas or Houston, he always would spy the golden arches of McDonalds and proclaim, “Well, we won’t starve.”

He was a smart man, not college educated but technologically savvy. I’ve seen him fix everything from a television to a computer to an RV. In my case, it didn’t matter what I needed – if it was help moving, something fixed, anything done, he was the first to volunteer. Jerry was someone I could always count on. But what I admired about him most wasn’t his talents or even his loyalty to me – it was his loyalty and readiness to come to the aid of anyone who needed it.

Jerry was a volunteer firefighter. In fact, he was our chief. I’ve seen him run into burning building and walk out with a child. I’ve seen him brave a plane in full flame to drag out the pilot before it blew. During his short life, he racked up a ‘save quota’ that inspired many. And I never saw him ask for a thing, not even a thank you.

When we learned Jerry had contracted cancer, we were devastated. Some doctors told him that all of the chemicals from the fires he fought had caused it. I don’t know about that, but perhaps they were right. He came down with pancreatic cancer, terminal. He died at M. D. Anderson at the age of 35.

I’ve lost many in my lifetime, but I think his death hurt me one of the worst. Not just because of what I lost, but of what the community lost. A hero.

After his passing, our small VFD put up a plaque with his name on it, they changed the name of the fire station to honor him. And the plaque was so fitting. I’ve been told that each day of our lives, we’re writing our memoirs, our eulogy, our biography – and of course we are. Our actions determine the legacy we leave behind. And the plaque that was hung in memory of Jerry, over the fire station door said everything about him.

I AM MY BROTHER’s KEEPER

Even as I write this, I cry. He lived unselfishly, putting himself at risk to save others. I will be lucky if my life means half as much. Gee, let me wipe my eyes and continue. Our series, 12-Alarm cowboys are about men who wear two hats – a fire helmet and a cowboy hat. I can’t think of two better types to mesh into one fantastic hero. And don’t worry, my book while it will capture the personality of this man I once knew, will have a happy ending, and it will be as hot as the fires they have to fight- and that’s a promise.

Next time, I’ll post an excerpt from TEXAS WILDFIRE – but today, I’ll just show off the cover and the preorder link. And thank you for being my friend.

Sable Hunter

 

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David DeVary Art Give-Away

Hi everyone! I hope you are all having a fantastic 2015 so far. I don’t have a new cowboy title to share this month (Cur releasing in late summer). But I have a question (or two) you can help me with.

  • Is your favorite male hero tough or tender?
  • Do you prefer heroines who are vulnerable or self-assured?

Answer those questions in a comment and go in a drawing for a David DeVary poster. I love the way this artist presents the West and as a thank you for your participation in my mini survey, I thought I’d give away one of his awesome 36″ x 24″ posters.  (Winners choice.)

Click on this link  and you’ll find some of my favorite pictures in DeVary’s Romancing the West series.

Guardian Angel Series (Western Couples)

Western Cowgirls

Western Cowboys

Don’t forget—Answer my survey question in a comment to go in the drawing for a DeVary poster. (Sorry I can only send poster to a US address. International winner will receive a $30.00 GC).

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It’s Hard Lovin’, 16th century Ireland or modern Texas

Did you ever hear a song that just stuck right in your brain and never let go? More years ago than I want to post here I heard Tommy Makem and The Clancy Brothers sing The Whistling Gypsy (also known as The Gypsy rover). It’s been decades and I still can’t get the song out of my head. So what’s a writer to do? Why, I put it in a story.

It’s an old Irish air that I moved into modern day Texas. I’m posting the lyrics here so you can see what the genesis of the story is.

The gypsy rover came over the hill

Down through the valley so shady

He whistled and he sang till the green woods rang

And he won the heart of a lady

She left her father’s castle gate

Left her own fond lover, left her servants

And her estate

To follow the gypsy rover

Her father saddled his fastest steed

Searched these valleys all over

Seeking his daughter at great speed

And the whistlin’ gypsy rover

At last he came to a castle gate

Along the river Claydee

And there was music and there was wine

For the gypsy and his lady

“He is no gypsy, my father”, she said

But Lord of these lands all over

And I will stay till my dying day

With the whistlin’ gypsy rover

Ah dee du, ah dee du da day

Ah dee du, ah dee day dee

He whistled and he sang till the green woods rang

Till the green woods rang, till the green woods rang

And he won the heart of a lady

The gypsy rover came over the hill

Down through the valley so shady

Erin Braddock, daughter of wealthy and powerful rancher Rance Braddock, has been to hell and back. So has wandering cowboy minstrel Grady Sinclair. But the moment they meet chemistry ignites between them, erasing everything else. The sex is scorching, explosive, addictive. They can’t get enough each other. The same talented fingers that coax seductive music from his guitar coax powerful orgasms from her body. Seduced by his music as well as the sinfully sexy man himself, Erin runs away with him. Nights she sits in the bar listening to his come-to-me voice promising her the erotic delights he delivers on when they’re back in their room. But will the past follow them or can they build a future together, in and out of bed?

Excerpt:DH_HardLovin_LargeWithoutLogo

Erin woke to the grey light of dawn filtering in through the blinds at the windows, the color of the sky before the first rays of sunlight painted it. She blinked her eyes twice, not sure at first where she was. The room was totally unfamiliar. Had she somehow woken up in an alternate universe?

Then she realized in quick order that a warm male body was spooned against her, a strong male arm was around her waist, and a very masculine leg was draped over hers. And it all came crashing back like a building imploding. The party. The noise. The crowd of people. The desperate need to escape. Smoky’s and the singer with the let-me-fuck-you voice.

And the best sex she’d ever had in her life.

Grady Sinclair.

Holy shit, what had she done?

She shifted slightly, wondering exactly what the morning after etiquette was in a situation like this. She’d never picked a guy up in a bar before. She’d gone home from a party with Cal but that was different. That had been more of her rebellion. And of course, look how well that had turned out.

She waited for the fear to sweep over her, the panic, the desperate need to escape, but all she felt was a throbbing in her pussy and an unbelievable need to feel this man inside her again.

So now what?

As if reading her thoughts Grady’s arm tightened around her and he pulled her close enough to him that she could feel his hard cock pressing against the crevice of her buttocks. For a moment she tensed, but when he shifted enough so his shaft rested against one cheek of her ass she relaxed again and let the heat bubble up inside her.

Without saying a word Grady moved one hand so it cupper her breast and the other to slide down her tummy to the curls covering her mound. His fingers drifted idly through it until he found the hot button of her clit and just like that lightening speared through her.  She clenched the muscles of her pussy against the sudden surge of need and a moan drifted from her mouth.

“Feel good, darlin?” he breathed in her ear. “Sure feels good to me. You’re already dripping wet.”

Erin wondered if she should be embarrassed at how quickly and easily she responded to him, but she felt so good she just couldn’t care.

Grady stroked her clit while a thumb and forefinger squeezed and tugged on a nipple, and twin sparks of pleasure ignited her nerve endings. Tug, tug, stroke, stroke, his arm holding her in place even as his hand probed her slit. She rocked her hips against his touch, silently urging him to rub faster and harder.

“That’s it, sugar. Ride my hand. Go on. Let me feel you.”

He nipped at the lobe of her ear as she pushed herself into his touch. The touch of his tongue licking a path along her neck was like a brush of flame dusting against her. She groaned in protest when he hooked one leg over hers and pulled it back so she was spread wide open. When she tried to squeeze her thighs together he tightened the pressure on her leg.

“Uh uh, little girl. Just like this.”

Rub, rub, rub. His fingers were doing wicked things to her cunt, stroking the lips, the clit, rimming the opening to her channel. Oh, god, she wanted him inside her. Needed to feel him there, with a desperation that threatened to consume her. But he was relentless, merciless, holding her open as he drove her to completion. She shuddered as the muscles of her pussy clenched on air and Grady squeezed her nipple and licked her skin.

HARD LOVIN’ releases May 19. Come to the Release Day party on Facebook where 24 authors help me celebrate with excerpts and prizes.

https://www.facebook.com/events/471379986347936/

Here is where you can preorder it:

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-hardlovin-1798614-149.html

 https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/hard-lovin-2

https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Desiree_Holt_Hard_Lovin?id=2tTrCAAAQBAJ&hl=en

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Four Books, Four Authors, One Hot Cowboy Series – Randi Alexander

Have you fed your cowboy craving this week? Here’s a suggestion. The four books of The Sons of Dusty Walker Series

Book 1, Dylan, by Jodi Redford

Book 2, Jackson, by Randi Alexander

Book 3, Killian, by Desiree Holt

Book 4, Rogue, by Sable Hunter

Here’s the book blurb for the series:

cowboy romance series

“Four Brothers, One Tainted Legacy, and a Wild, Wild Ride. Will They Survive It?”

When Dusty Walker’s untimely death brings his four sons to Red Creek, Kansas, they are in for more of a shock than just losing their father. None of them knew about the others. Nor did they expect to hear the strange terms of their father’s will. They might share last names, and even a special belt buckle, but they also share a lot of resentment. Dylan is struggling to follow his dream of being a country musician and dealing with yet another shock from the woman who suddenly came back into his life. Jackson’s life is on the rodeo circuit and doesn’t include any permanent arrangements, including a woman. Killian dreams of owning a ranch where he can raise Appaloosa horses, and he doesn’t plan to do it in Nowhere, USA. Rogue doesn’t know what to do with the naked woman in his bed nor the direction his life seems to be taking. He’s a loner, pure and simple. But if the brothers want their share of the half-billion dollar estate, they have to follow the terms of the will…one week in Red Creek running the business and getting to know each other. None of them can begin to predict how drastically their lives are about to change.

 

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Book Blurb for Jackson: The Sons of Dusty Walker:

When rodeo bronc rider Jackson Walker’s father passes away, he’s shocked to find he’s not the only son of Dusty Walker. His dad had three other families at compass points around the country. When a stipulation in Dusty’s will requires him to live in his dad’s house and work at his company for one week, Jackson heads to Red Creek, Kansas to get it over with, so he can get the hell back to his regularly scheduled life.

Computer engineer Rori Hughes needs to solidify her position in Dusty’s company, but the only one of his four sons available is Jackson, and Rori has a mighty low opinion of rodeo cowboys. Finding inconsistencies in the computer files, Rori and Jackson work together to solve the mystery, but their constant contact fires a red-hot desire that burns wild between them.

Spending their days at Dusty’s opulent lakeside home, and their nights together making love, they both ignore the warning signs that point to their attraction becoming more than merely sexual. Jackson’s time in Red Creek is coming to an end, but can he follow his original plan and leave town, breaking away from smart, beautiful, sexy Rori?

****

Excerpt From Jackson: The Sons of Dusty Walker

Jackson took Rori’s hand and led her around the side of the house and down the gradual sloping walkway to the sandy lakeshore. Three docks jutted into the water, two of them holding boats and a pontoon, the other longer, with personal watercraft, both motorized and paddle-driven. A gazebo sat at the end of the dock.

“This is pretty impressive.” Rori held tight to his hand, and it felt too right to Jackson. Like she was someone he’d known for a long time.

Outside the gazebo stood a swinging seat just big enough for two, and he gestured for her to sit.

She didn’t move, just looked up at him, the orange glow of the sun shimmering in her hair, sparkling in her eyes. “Jackson.”

“Darlin’.” He stepped closer, his belt buckle brushing against her stomach. “I’ve been wanting to do this all day.”

After glancing at the water, she blinked her pretty eyes up at him. “Throw me in?”

“Not hardly.” He slid his hands along her arms to her shoulders, slowly, gently, giving her plenty of room to say no. When she tipped her head, he had to take. Pressing his lips to hers, he let a wash of desire flood him, hardening him in his jeans, and sending his thoughts to the two of them in his bedroom.

His tongue slid along the seam of her lips, tasting sweet and sour margarita, before he pressed it inside her mouth, tasting the deep, warm spices of their supper mixed with the addictive flavor of her.

Her arms wrapped around his neck as she pulled herself closer to him, deepening the kiss.

Against his shirt, burning through layers of fabric, her nipples rubbed, hard and hot against his chest. She let out a little moan that made him far too wild.

Sliding one hand down her back, he cupped her ass, squeezing the firm, ripe roundness as his tongue played with hers. Then it hit him. Rori was okay with this? He ended the kiss but stayed just an inch from her lips. “You know, I’m still a rodeo cowboy.”

Her eyes, unfocused and darker blue than the evening sky, shifted left, then right. “I know, but I’ve made peace with it.”

Backing away another inch, he narrowed his eyes. “How so?”

****

Rori shrugged. “First…” She thought for a few seconds.

“That’s how you like to get your points across, Ms. Hughes. Logically, and in perfect order.”

With a smile, she closed her eyes. “You noticed that in me?”

“Yeah. First…” He laughed. “It’s because it’s different from anyone else I know.”

“Is that why you like me?” She felt her face heat. Had she really just asked him that? And sounded like a teenager with her first crush?

“Oh, no you don’t. You’re not changing the subject. You finish telling me your list.” He guided her to the swing and sat them hip-to-hip, his arm around her shoulders. “First…” he prodded.

“First, I know you’ll be leaving this town, probably never returning.” It killed her to realize she might never see him again, but facts were facts. “So the whole rodeo problem ends Sunday when you fly out of Kansas.”

He stared at her, but his lips thinned slightly.

“Second, people have seen us together, so gossip has more than likely spread to about half the population of Red Creek, and by tomorrow, we should have total saturation.”

A corner of his mouth quirked.

“You know they’re assuming we’re getting cozy, so we may as well do it.”

Jackson let out a laugh. “Those are your reasons? I’m short-term and we’re assumed guilty already?”

She turned in to him, pressing her hand on his chest. His hard, well-developed chest, where his heart beat strong and fast. Warm tugs pulled at her core, and she barely refrained from pressing her thighs together and wiggling with the pleasure. “Um…” What had she been about to say? “No. Yes. No.” She shook her head a few times to clear it. “I feel this pull toward you, like a chemical reaction, or a magnetic force.” She needed to admit it, to him and to herself. “From the moment you walked up to me at your company, and then in your office, I thought I might just kiss you. For no reason.” Recalling those moments, her heart beat faster, too.

Jackson cupped her cheek and leaned closer. “Don’t need a reason.” He slanted his mouth on hers, opening his lips and sweetly running his tongue along her teeth, then tasting her mouth and teasing her tongue with his.

She laced her fingers through the back of his hair, thick and silky, she loved how it curled just a little around her fingers. With a tug, she ended the kiss and touched the tip of her nose on his. “Your turn.” Her voice came low and breathy, sounding too far gone for her own good.

“That voice of yours. The second I heard it, I got ideas.” His fingertip traced along her collarbone to the base of her neck, then moved slowly downward as his eyes followed the movement. “But when I looked around the corner and saw you…” His hand flattened under her breast, wrapping his fingers around her ribcage. He looked into her eyes. “I knew you wanted to kiss me.”

She laughed. “I think you started it. In your office, you leaned—” Her phone chimed. She pulled it from her pocket. “It’s my contact. He’s going to need a couple more hours to try to get the info we need.”

“Perfect.” He stood, holding out his hand to her. “I know how we’re going to spend those hours.”

Laying her palm on his, that magic jolt rolled through her again. She stood. “Not on a computer?” Her knees wobbled a bit and she held tighter.

“Doesn’t sound like the most comfortable of positions, but if you’re into that kind of kinky…” He wagged his brows at her.

She giggled. Again. Something she hadn’t done for years, until she met Jackson Walker.

He tugged her closer and guided her along the dock. Lights set into the edges of the boards guided the way back to shore. “There’s a side door with stairs up to the bedrooms.”

They moved quickly along the walkway, and between her desire and her anxiousness, she had a hard time catching her breath.

Wrapping his arm around her, he jostled her a little. “You okay? You look like you’re walking into a police lineup.”

How did she tell him it’d been a while since the last time? “I’m good.”

“Hm. Those are not exactly the words a guy wants to hear.” He stopped, set his hands on her shoulders, and turned her toward him. “If you’re not sure about this…”

She couldn’t remember ever wanting a man the way she craved this cowboy. Was it the bad boy aspect of his rodeo life? The fact that she’d never started a relationship with a man who she knew would be gone in a few days? Or just the big, sexy muscles and blue eyes that turned her tummy to jiggling jelly? “I’m sure, Jackson.” She took his hands in hers and backed toward the house. “Now stop your stalling.”

He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

####

Get your copy of all four books at Amazon:

AMAZON US

AMAZON UK

AMAZON CAN

AMAZON AU

Happy Mother’s Day to all you wonderful mommas out there!
Randi
“Rode Hard and Put Up Satisfied”
RandiAlexander.com
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My Books – read the first chapters and find buy links:
Jackson: The Sons of Dusty Walker
Legend Awakening
All Hat No Cattle
All Cash No Flash
All Smoke No Fire
Redneck Romeo only $.99
Chase and Seduction
Heart of Steele
Rough Ryder
Double Her Fantasy
Double Her Pleasure
Double Her Temptation
Double Her Destiny only $.99
Cowboy Jackpot: Christmas
Cowboy Jackpot: Valentine’s Day
Cowboy Jackpot: St. Patrick’s Day
Her Cowboy Stud
Turn Up the Heat
Cowboy Bad Boys
Cowboy Lust
Cowboy Heat
Cowboy 12 Pack: Twelve Smokin’ Hot Stories for only $2.99
-Free Read! A Gentleman and a Cowboy is available at Amazon, Smashwords, All Romance Ebooks, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, iBooks

 

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I Hope You Dance!

Awwwww: No hot cowboys today, (though I suspect Don has done his mama proud!) I HAVE, however, been writing fast and furious on Dalton and Angelique’s story in RENEGADE HEART’S #finallybrainkickedin. Consequently, I’ve managed to more than adequately steam up a few pages #hotchahotchahotcha, but I digress…renegade_hearts_web-large

SUNDAY, MAY 10,  we’ve set aside in this country a day to celebrate Mother’s. Mother’s by blood, others by choice.  Maybe you’ve never had children of your own, but as a teacher guide hundreds every day, instilling confidence, assisting in the growing-up process. Maybe you’re an aunt, godmother, a caregiver, a neighbor who has been for another, the mother figure in their lives. We pay homage to the “mom’s” in our lives–the sons, daughters, grandchildren—the legacy of Motherhood.

This Mother’s Day is bittersweet for me. Not only am I a mother to four wonderful adult children, who turned out far better than I could have imagined or hoped for—but I am a daughter, too. And this Mother’s Day will be the first without my mother. The juxtaposition of loss and blessing is almost dazzling in its clarity.

There have been many songs written about mothers and many of them sung by country artists interestingly enough. (Have you heard the new Garth Brooks single, “Mom”?)

However, one of my favorites, released a few years back, is by country artist, Lee Ann Womack. As a writer, I quite often use music when I write, sometimes for the picture that the lyrics paint, other times for the mood or tone of the music, itself.

This song, in particular, speaks to me in such a vivid way about the wisdom of a mother to her child. Here is a condensed version of I HOPE YOU DANCE and if you’re so inclined you can also check out the beautiful Youtube video.

I HOPE YOU DANCE BY Lee Ann Womack

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,

You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,

May you never take one single breath for granted,

GOD forbid love ever leave you empty handed,

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,

Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,

Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance….I hope you dance.

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance,

Never settle for the path of least resistance

Livin’ might mean takin’ chances but they’re worth takin’,

Lovin’ might be a mistake but it’s worth makin’,

Don’t let some hell bent heart leave you bitter,

When you come close to sellin’ out reconsider,

Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance,

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance….I hope you dance.

I hope you dance….I hope you dance.

(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along,

Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder where those years have gone.)

Writer(s): Mark Daniel Sanders, Tia Sillers Copyright: Sony/ATV Melody, Soda Creek Songs, Choice Is Tragic Music, MCA Music Publishing A.D.O. Universal S

Do you have a favorite song about Mother’s? Maybe you have a favorite saying from your mom or grandmother?

I remember we kids used to collapse in a fit of laughter every time my grandmother would blurt out “well, my stars and garters!” when she was surprised. Never understood the saying, but it makes me smile to this day. I hope one day, my kids will know that I danced!

Happy Mother’s Day!

I Hope You Dance!

Amanda

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Cowboys & SEALs = Alpha Heroes! by Elle James aka Myla Jackson

When I think of Cowboys, I think of men who live hard, play hard and aren’t afraid of anything. Hmmmm. Wait, I meant SEALs. No…Cowboys! Oh, hell! They’re both tough, alpha heroes who deal with difficult circumstances on a daily basis, are challenged physically and who are as passionate about what they do as they are with their women.

I have four books out with cowboys and SEALs. Two of the SEAL books are also part of my Covert Cowboys Inc series. That’s right, one of my agents is a cowboy/SEAL, the other is a cowgirl working for CCI and assigned to help a SEAL. You get the best of both worlds!

Do you have a preference? Cowboys or SEALs?

HeirtoMurder160x253Heir to Murder

Adair Affairs Book #4
Harlequin Romantic Suspense

Amazon | Nook | Kobo
IBooks

SEALsSeduction160x240SEAL’s Seduction

Take No Prisoners Series #6

Amazon | Kobo| Ibooks
Nook | ARe

NavySEALJustice160x253Navy SEAL’s Justice

Covert Cowboys Inc #5
Harlequin Intrigue

Amazon | Nook | Kobo
IBooks

Navy SEAL’s Newlywed

Covert Cowboys Inc #6
Harlequin Intrigue

Pre-Order now at
Amazon
| Nook | Kobo

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