UPDATE: The winner is…Jen B.!

* * * * *

So, here we are. Just one more day. I get nervous right about this time, wondering if readers will love my story. We writers are very insecure creatures when it comes to our work. Until the first reader sends me an email saying how much they loved it, or how it improved their married sex life, or how they were red-cheeked their entire train commute to work, I don’t know whether I succeeded.

So, when the clock strikes midnight tonight and my book is transmitted to your reading device, you know I’ll be sitting here, biting my nails. I can’t wait to hear what you think! In the meantime, enjoy a naughty excerpt. And, there’s still time to enter the last two days’ contests. I’ll award all prizes tomorrow!

For a chance to win one of the original five Delta Heat stories
or a copy of BURNIN’ UP MEMPHIS, tell me what piece
of a firefighter’s equipment you find sexiest?

When your heart is stuck in the wrong gear, a quick fix isn’t going to cut it.

Firehouse 69, Book 2

When Noah buys a classic ’68 Camaro from a fellow firefighter’s widow, he hopes it will ease some of the grief crushing his heart. But the grinding noise under the car’s hood sends him straight to a mechanic. Something about the burly, imposing Hoyt sparks Noah’s interest, and it’s not just Hoyt’s ice-blue eyes and bad-boy biker looks. It’s the mutual interest they have–Club LaForge.

After losing his partner to cancer a year ago, Hoyt never thought he’d feel the same kind of rush with another man. But his reaction to Noah throbs deep in his body like the rumble of his Harley.

LaForge seems like the perfect place to meet and work off some sorrow, to feel alive again. But the flood of desire quickly gets hot enough to melt their emotional barriers into unexpected connections.

Connections Hoyt isn’t sure he’s ready for…especially since history has a scary way of repeating itself.

Warning: Get your motor running for a Harley-riding hunk of muscle who doesn’t give a damn about the rules of being a Dom, and a firefighter who can take the heat. Buy a case of your favorite coolant. You’re gonna need it.

“Take me into your mouth.”

Noah made a sound, something between a chuff and a whimper. A sound that shot a jolt of hunger through Hoyt. Noah crawled on his knees until he knelt directly in front of Hoyt and raised his chin.

Hoyt pointed his cock at the firefighter’s mouth and held his breath as Noah opened up, sliding his eyelids closed as he tentatively latched his lips around the crown. Then he flattened his tongue against the head and began to suction—gently at first, and then with gusto.

Hoyt put his hands on the top of Noah’s head, combing his thick, sun-streaked hair with his fingers. He dug his nails into Noah’s scalp to urge him to take him deeper into his mouth.

Noah needed no encouragement. He breathed noisily through his nostrils, wrapped one strong hand around his shaft and bobbed forward to slide his mouth down Hoyt’s cock.

Hoyt rocked on his heels, his head falling back as he let the sensations wash over him in a hot wave—moist heat, suction nearly as strong as a Hoover. Teeth scraped his shaft, and Hoyt pulled Noah’s hair hard. “Easy,” he muttered, because he was nearly coming out of his skin. “Take me to the back of your throat.”

Noah cupped Hoyt’s balls and tugged them, then burrowed against him, taking Hoyt deeper inside, the sounds he made more desperate, more animalistic as he pushed and pulled with his lips and slithered his tongue along the rigid shaft.

Hoyt would have liked to blow right then, but he wanted more. Wanted Noah every bit as delirious with pleasure as he was. He tugged Noah’s hair, moving him away, and pulled up his pants. “Strip, Noah. You said you don’t like being restrained, so I won’t latch the manacles around your wrists, but I would like you to grip the bar beneath the chains and hold tight while I play.”

Noah’s reddened face wore an expression Hoyt recognized all too well. His lips and eyes were glazed. His nostrils flared. He shoved up and walked to a bench where he quickly tossed his clothes while Hoyt removed the rest of his. Then Noah sauntered to the chains and reached high for the bar suspended from the ceiling.

With his tall body stretched, his cock prominent in front of him, Noah was beautiful. All shining swells and dark hollows, embellished here and there with puckered burn scars—symbols of his bravery. Hoyt circled Noah, letting his hands graze his hips, his belly, his hard ass. When he came in front of him, he gave Noah’s cock a firm stroke before meeting the other man’s gaze. “Tell me about the car.”