I’m late posting today, but I was waiting for Amazon to release my latest book—Stepbrothers Stepping Out: Ultimate Collection!

I decided that since I had so many smutty stepbrother stories written, I should make it easy (and cheaper) for readers to collect them all in one place, so the first nine stories make up this 60,000 word book! Everything except the last two SEAL stories is here, which I’m delivering at a price of $3.99—a nearly $5.00 savings if you were to purchase them all individually. And, I plan to put this volume into print, hopefully by the end of the month, for those of you who still love to hold paper books in your hands. So, be looking for that news. This volume will be exclusive to Amazon for three months to allow any Kindle Unlimited readers to take advantage, but then it’s going wide to Kobo, B&N—all the usual places!

I hope you take advantage of this offer, because I may not leave it out there long…

Stepbrothers Stepping Out: Ultimate Collection

From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Delilah Devlin, comes a collection of her most delicious stories—taboo tales of stepbrotherly love, served with a sexy side of ménage! Two taboo themes sure to provide you nighttime reading pleasure!

Find out what happens when a Dominant brings his submissive stepsister for an intimate exam in “With His Doctor.” In “With His SEAL Team,” a phone sex operator knows just how to bring her sexy SEAL stepbrother back from the edge of darkness. When a secretive couple faces the dissolution of their parents’ marriage, they share one last weekend in the family’s lake house in “With His Friends.” A social media celebutante worries she won’t reconnect with her rock star stepbrother in “With His Rock Band.” And more steplover adventures await your pleasure inside the Ultimate Collection!

Get your copy here!

Hello, everyone! Thank you for having me as a guest, Delilah, and thank you for stopping by!

I’d like to talk about genre switching and how I decide what to write. I loved reading medievals, and eventually decided to write one. An idea for the first scene popped into my head (see excerpt below). Figuring out why the heroine was riding a horse, who would see and what happened next led to my becoming a pantser, meaning I write from the seat of my pants rather than plotting first.

After purchasing many research books on 15^th century England, sticking with that time period made sense. So I wrote three more. One, actually the second book I wrote, still remains “under the bed,” as they say. I love the story, but I wrote it via multiple characters’ points of view, while most books focus on the hero and heroine. I haven’t quite figured out how to tell the story with two points of view….

After a version of my first book, AT HIS COMMAND, won Romance Writers of America® national Golden Heart® award, I had high hopes of publishing it with Harlequin. Unfortunately, after two years and two requests for revisions, they said no. So I self-published that and three other medievals. The most recent, MY ONCE AND FUTURE LOVE, adds paranormal and Arthurian elements. Too many, or does the amount of genre blending you’ll accept depend on the story? I started a second in what I hope will be the Unsung Knights of the Round Table series.

Meanwhile, Kathryn LeVeque invited me to write a novella for her Kindle world. She assigned me the story of her hero’s best friend’s parents, which meant the setting had to be around 1200AD….much earlier than my familiar period. A lot changed in more than two hundred years! I ended up in France, because I wanted to incorporate an actual event, the siege of Chateau Galliard…where people were trapped outside in winter between the French camp and the English-held chateau.

When I get an idea, I want to see where it goes. So I’ve also written two humorous women’s fiction books and a time travel to Elizabethan England, all of which I plan to release this year. Do you follow authors you like if they genre hop, or do you prefer they stick to one time period? Anyone who comments will be entered to win an e-book of AT HIS COMMAND, in which the king commands her to marry a lord, but she’s falling for the knight sent to protect her from undesirable suitors.

Excerpt:

Sir Nicholas Grey’s scout leaned forward in his saddle, holding up two fingers to let the others know two horses approached. Nicholas heard only the slight jangling of harnesses blended with wind rattling through the trees, but relied on his scout’s uncanny ability to hear what no one else could.

He and his eight men sat alert, deep enough in the forest to avoid being seen while maintaining a clear view of the road through leafless branches. Nine armed men could frighten travelers. ‘Twas best to let them pass.

Each man watched, each horse sinking deeper into chilling mire as a mud-covered, black palfrey plodded over the rise in the road, its long mane whipping in the frigid winds.

“No rider,” Martin, the scout, murmured.

“Look again,” Nicholas replied. At first he too had thought the horse was riderless. Now he could see a woman collapsed on the animal’s back. Her dark hair draped down its flank, mingling with the horse’s mane. The palfrey placed each step as if trying not to jostle its burden.

Another horse, this one a brown rouncey ridden by a thin, balding man, galloped after the palfrey. A look of triumph brightened the man’s face as he spotted the horse ahead of him. He bent forward, extending his hand. Fingers like talons grasped the woman’s tangled hair.

“Mine!” he cried.

MY ONCE AND FUTURE LOVE

Morgan ap Myrddin must rescue his father, Merlin, from imprisonment. But enemies have wounded him, draining his powers. Annora of Amberton flees her castle to seek proof that she’s not a lunatic as her uncle declared when claiming wardship over her and her lands.

Morgan stumbles upon Annora’s cottage and enlists her aid. As he helps her in return, respect and undeniable desire spark. But he won’t succumb to the lure of a mortal woman as his father did. She’s wary of caring for a man who won’t discuss his past. When he tells her he’s a Knight of the Round Table, she fears he’s the lunatic. Secrets, danger and destiny thwart the power of love.

About Ruth

Ruth Kaufman is the author of MY ONCE AND FUTURE LOVE and the Wars of the Roses Brides trilogy, AT HIS COMMAND, FOLLOW YOUR HEART and THE BRIDE TOURNAMENT. Accolades include 2016 Booksellers’ Best Historical and Best First Book award winner and Romance Writers of America® Golden Heart® winner.

An actor and speaker with an M.S. and J.D, Ruth has had roles in independent feature films, web series, pilots, national TV commercials and hundreds of voiceover projects. She enjoys chocolate peanut butter milkshakes and singing in a symphony chorus.

Website www.ruthkaufman.com
Blog: Gainfully Unemployed https://www.rjkaufman.blogspot.com/
Twitter @RuthKaufman https://twitter.com/RuthKaufman
Facebook: Ruth Kaufman Author & Actress https://www.facebook.com/ruthtalks
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7454412.Ruth_Kaufman
Amazon Author Page Ruth Kaufman

UPDATE: The winner of the free download of Bad Moon Rising is…Kim Smith!

* * * * *

This one came out a little over a year ago. Love panther-shifters? Love a sexy Cajun drawl? Enjoy the excerpt!

Comment for a chance to win a free download of Bad Moon Rising!

Bad Moon Rising

On a whim, romance author DiDi Devereaux decides to travel to remote Louisiana bayou country to take possession of a house she inherited from a reclusive relative. But before she reaches her destination, she drives her car into a ditch to avoid a large animal that leaps into her path. Rescue comes in the form of a sexy sheriff, whose gruff demeanor seems to hide a feral attraction. As DiDi settles into her new home she finds herself torn between her attraction to the sheriff and the raw, handsome bad boy whose offer to help her renovate her home is a little too convenient and tempting.

Nothing in Bayou Noir is what it seems. When strange things begin to happen, her natural curiosity leads her into danger…

Get your copy here!

Read an excerpt…

DiDi hit SAVE and shut down her computer. Her newest story was beginning to pull together—or at least, the characters were coming alive. The external plot of her novel hadn’t yet gelled, because she hadn’t discovered what secrets the sheriff and the bad boy hid.

But the characters were now fully fleshed—the two men appealing to her heroine in ways DiDi understood all too well. The question she still struggled with was which man her heroine would ultimately choose. The thought made her smile.

DiDi closed the computer lid. Of course, Sheriff Breaux and Bobby Sonnier were the models for her two heroes. All the while she’d described her heroine’s first meeting with the men, she’d described her own feelings, and how her curiosity and body had both been aroused. Which man did she, DiDi, prefer? Funny, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d thought a man so disturbingly attractive. But in this remote location, within a single hour, she’d met two.

She stretched her arms above her head and glanced at her watch—two o’clock AM. Since she was a night owl by habit, she didn’t worry. However, the room was warm. The AC chugged along, but didn’t seem to cool very well. Upon returning to the room, she’d changed to cutoffs and a tank top, but the fabric stuck to her skin. Maybe drinking something ice-cold would cool her enough to rest comfortably. She slipped the pass key into her back pocket, tucked a couple of dollar bills into the front one, and let herself out of her room.

Outside, she breathed in the thick, humid air. The night was quiet except for the distant, blended hum of insects and frogs. Maybe it was the cloying heat, but she felt restless and aroused. Her thoughts swirled with the erotic fantasies she’d been spinning into a story.

A woman caught between two men.

On the outside, one wore a white hat, the other dressed like he’d just dragged himself out of bed. But inside, both souls were painted with the same darkness.

The soda machine stood next to the office, so she walked barefoot along the sidewalk, slid her money into the slot, and hit the button for a Coke. The machine shuddered, but nothing dropped into the well at the bottom.

“Damn.” She hit the button again. Nothing. Cursing, she bent and stuck her arm up into the opening, found the bottom of her can lodged at an odd angle, and rattled it until it dropped into her hand.

When she straightened, she held the can away and opened the tab, letting it spray outward.

The can was icy cold, and she drank down several gulps before turning back to her room.

DiDi drew up short. A car had parked in front of her room. A sleek Caprice with the township’s emblem and blue lights on the top. Sheriff Breaux stood with his arms crossed over his chest, watching her.

Had he seen her wrestle with the coke, her butt in the air? Would she ever catch a break with the guy?

DiDi made herself straighten her shoulders and sauntered toward the large man. Did he always wear that expression—so dark and intense, so watchful? She caught the way his narrowed glance scanned her bare legs and feet, and she shivered.

She’d take his frown over a smile from another man any day—the gesture did things to her. Challenged her. Made her tingle in all the right places. “Evenin’, Sheriff,” she drawled, walking closer.

“Miz Devereaux,” he said, nodding.

“DiDi,” she replied, curving her lips. “I thought we were getting friendly.”

His expression didn’t soften. “It’s late. Doesn’t a city girl like you know it’s not safe to be alone outside after dark?”

“Tell me,” she said softly, teasingly as she leaned against her room’s door. “This is a small town. What should I fear? And is the danger sporting four legs or two?”

His features stilled. He stepped closer and looked down his nose.

A move like he was trying to intimidate. She didn’t know why, but his stance aroused her.

“Bayou Noir is a quiet town,” he said, his voice dead even, “but you’re a beautiful woman. More temptation than man or beast might be able to resist.”

DiDi blinked, all bluster gone. Heat soaked the crotch of her panties. He thinks I’m hard to resist? “Looks like I don’t have a thing to fear with you here, Sheriff.”

His lips crimped in irritation, and he shook his head. “Told you before, Mason,” he bit out. “Seein’ as how we’re friendly now.”

Two could play this game of chicken. She stepped close enough she could smell him. “What if I like sheriff? I like a man being in charge.”

His nostrils flared. His eyelids fell. “Careful, chère…”

“Am I really that hard to resist?” DiDi lifted her chin.

He didn’t answer, but his gaze fell to her mouth.

DiDi knew she’d roll her eyes if a character in her book licked her lips at a time like this, but she couldn’t resist the tease. She stroked her bottom lip, wetting it and watching Mason’s eyes narrow further, homing in on the simple little motion.

“You like playin’ with fire?” he muttered, his voice guttural.

“I’m not playin’.”

His eyes were shadowed, a touch sinister and frightening.

She couldn’t have said why, but she wanted to rattle him. Answer his challenge with one of her own. DiDi leaned into Mason, pressing the hand not holding the soda against his chest and rising on her toes. When her mouth approached, she saw his lips part.

But he held still, watching her with that dark, steady gaze.

She placed her lips against his and rubbed, and then did it again when he still didn’t move. Pulling back, she gave him a slight glare. His expression hadn’t changed, but that didn’t defeat her. No way could she be this hot if he wasn’t returning some of the heat.

Plus, he hadn’t warned her away with a word or a gesture, hadn’t moved back either. Not exactly a no.

Angling a hand backwards, she set the soda on the windowsill and reached up to clutch his shoulders, pushed her chest against his, snuggling closer, and kissed him again.

His hands curled gently around her waist.

Her heart sped up, her body melted. She pressed her lips harder.

However, Mason pushed her away…but his fingers didn’t let her go.

Rather than reach for him again, DiDi curved her fingers into her palms. She’d never thrown herself at a man like that, without an ounce of encouragement. Feeling like a fool, she pushed at his hands. “Don’t worry,” she said, unable to hold his steady stare now that she’d humiliated herself. “I promise I won’t attack you again.”

“DiDi.”

“What?” she snapped, lifting her face, hoping to salvage her pride.

“Dammit.” His lips slammed on top of hers. His hands let go of her waist and glided around her back, pulling her against him. And then he was walking her backward, pushing her against her door while he devoured her mouth.

DiDi thought she’d been ready for his kiss. Ready for whatever he’d bring, but under the onslaught, her head swam, her knees weakened. She locked her fingers behind his neck.

Scents intensified—the smell of thick, green forest, the exhaust of his car, his aftershave, the unique smell of his masculine musk.

Sounds—an indistinct hum before—returned, becoming louder. Crickets chirped, frogs croaked. The wind sifted through the trees, rustling leaves and creaking branches. And his heartbeat grew loud enough, insistent enough, her own matched its beat.

And God, the lush, wet thrill of that kiss! His mouth was hard, his tongue sinfully fluid, sliding along hers then tangling and twisting until she had to suck on it to keep him still and savor the sensual connection.

DiDi felt as though she drowned in a perfect moment, falling deeply into lust, her body shivering and bending toward him.

Mason broke the kiss. His gaze raked her face; his jaw tightened. “Better get inside an’ lock that door, chère.”

“And if I don’t want to?” she asked breathlessly, looking deep into his dark eyes.

“Gimme your key.”

Relief made her knees shake. He’s coming inside. She dug into her pocket for the key card and handed it over. He swiped the key and pulled down the latch next to her hip. Then he tossed the key toward the bed behind her and grasped her waist.

DiDi began to reach up to enfold him in her arms—

Scowling, Mason pushed her backward and closed the door in her face.

“Fuck,” she whispered. That had never happened before.

If you’re snowbound today, you might be looking for ways to while away your time. Do you love puzzles? Well, I had that gorgeous photograph on my blog yesterday and thought what a lovely jigsaw puzzle it would make…

If you’re game to play, just start moving the pieces!

And if you’re still looking for something fun to do later today, come join me at 2 PM Central Time for the Romance Readers Author Takeover. Again, just click on the picture, click on “Going”—and you’re there! You’ll be entertained, get free stuff, enter contests for more free stuff… Hope to see you there!

Wind River Rancher:  Shattered, but still fighting to be whole once more…

Wind River Rancher, Book 2, Wind River Valley series, s an emotional story that will suck every reader in.  I’m known for gritty, visceral and emotional writing, and this book is no exception. It just happened to catch the eye of Publisher’s Weekly and it received a ‘starred’ review (like winning an Oscar) on 12.3.16.

This series I’m writing is about military vets returning home from combat from all over the world, mostly focused on the Middle East.  Having been in the US Navy during the Vietnam War era (I served stateside as a weather forecaster at USNAS Moffett Field (now known as Silicon Valley) near San Francisco, California.

Book 1, Wind River Wrangler, the hero is an ex-Army Special Forces operator, Roan Taggart.  He has left the Army with PTSD, no longer able to function at that high level any longer in black ops duties.  He gets a job as a wrangler at the Wind River Ranch, where it’s quieter, it’s out in Nature and he is slowly healing from his internal PTSD wounds.   Only, as life usually slaps us in the face, one way or another, he’s thrown back into a threat/life-and-death situation with Shiloh Gallagher, a writer from New York City.  She’s escaped to the ranch to hide from a stalker who has torn her life apart.  Figuring if she lives in Wyoming to write, her stalker won’t find her and she can breath once more, not look over her shoulder 24/7/365.  Roan’s peaceful, back water life explodes when the stalker locates Shiloh.  Once again, he’s thrust back into a combat situation.  And for Shiloh, the nightmare begins anew when she thought she’d found safety at the ranch.

Book 2, Wind River Rancher, the hero is an ex-Marine Corps captain who commanded a company of Marines over in Afghanistan for years. The deployments, the combat, eventually took a toll on him, too. Reese Lockhart was a twenty-year man, his only dream was to become a Marine officer and protect his people, guide them and support them. Only the Afghanistan war gradually wore him down and sucked the life out of him, as it did so many others. He was given an honorable medical discharge, against his wishes. His whole life-dream has been shattered. He’s fractured internally by the PTSD, and you will meet him two years later as his story unfolds. He’s degraded to being like so many other vets we see on the streets of every city in the USA: shamed, hopeless, depressed and he cannot hold a job. In this book, I took “the gloves off,” as we say, and delved into the hero’s state of mind, his distorted emotions, his thinking he was a failure in every possible way.

EXCERPT from the opening to Chapter 1 of Wind River Rancher

Reese Lockhart’s stomach was tight with hunger as he stood at the outskirts of a small Wyoming town called Wind River. The sign indicated a population of two thousand. He’d gone a month without decent food. Six inches of snow stood on the sides of the road where he’d walked the last ten miles on 89A north. It headed toward Jackson Hole, where he was hoping to find work.

The town, for a Monday afternoon, was pretty slow. A couple of pickup trucks came and went, a few people walked along the sidewalks on either side of the highway that ran through the center of town. He halted outside Becker’s Hay and Feed Store, an aged redbrick building standing two stories high. The red tin roof was steep and sunlight reflected off it, making Reese squint. Bright lights now hurt his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, feeling the fear of rejection once again, he pushed open the door to the store. Would he get yelled at by the owner? Told to get out? It was early May and snow had fallen the night before. The sleepy town of Wind River still had slush on its streets midday.

The place was quiet, smelled of leather, and he saw a man in his sixties, tall, lean, and with silver hair, behind the counter. He was sitting on a wooden stool that
was probably the same age as he was, an ancient-looking calculator in his work-worn hands as he methodically punched the buttons.

Girding himself, ignoring the fact he hadn’t eaten in two days, Reese’s gaze automatically swung around the huge establishment. A hay and feed store was something he was familiar with. Maybe the owner wanted some part-time help. He needed to make enough money to buy a decent meal.

Shoving away the shame he felt over his situation, he saw the man lift his head, wire-rim spectacles halfway down his large nose, his blue eyes squinting at Reese as he approached the long wooden counter.

“Howdy, stranger. Can I help you?” the man asked.

“Maybe,” Reese said. “I’m looking for work. I saw you have several big barns out back, and a granary. Do you have any openings?” Automatically, Reese tensed. He knew he looked rough with a month’s worth of beard on his face, and his clothes were dirty and shabby. At one time, he’d been a Marine Corps captain commanding a company of 120 Marines. And he’d been damn good at it until—

“I’m Charlie Becker, the owner,” the man said, shifting and thrusting his hand across the desk toward him. “Welcome to Wind River. Who might you be?”

“Reese Lockhart,” he said, and he gripped the man’s strong hand. He liked Charlie’s large, watery eyes because he saw kindness in them. Reese was very good at assessing people. He’d kept his Marines safe and helped them through their professional and personal ups and downs over the years he commanded Mike Company in Afghanistan. Charlie was close to six feet tall, lean like a rail, and wore a white cowboy shirt and blue jeans. Reese sensed this older gentleman wouldn’t throw him out of here with a curse— or even worse, call law enforcement and accuse him of trespassing.

The last place where he’d tried to find some work, they’d called him a druggie and told him to get the hell out; he smelled. While walking the last ten miles to Wind River, Reese had stopped when he discovered a stream on the flat, snow-covered land, and tried to clean up the best he could. The temperature was near freezing as he’d gone into the bushes, away from the busy highway, and stripped to his waist. He’d taken handfuls of snow and scrubbed his body, shivering, but hell, that was a small price to pay to try to not smell so bad. He hadn’t had a real shower in a month, either.

“You a vet, by any chance?” Charlie asked, his eyes narrowing speculatively upon Reese.

“Yes, sir. Marine Corps.” He said it with pride.

LINKS:
Amazon
https://www.amazon.com/Wind-River-Rancher-Lindsay-McKenna/dp/1420141767/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1478800984&sr=8-1&keywords=Wind+River+Rancher

Kobo.com
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/wind-river-rancher

BN.com
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wind-river-rancher-lindsay-mckenna/1123624029?ean=9781420141764

Apple/iBooks
https://linkmaker.itunes.apple.com/en-us/details/1099652774?country=us&mediaType=books&term=Wind+River+Rancher+by+Lindsay+McKenna

*~*~*

Lindsay McKenna
www.lindsaymckenna.com

Known at his law firm as “King of Torts,” JD Ackerman’s not even in the game when it comes to love. Since losing his wife, he’s buried himself in his career—until he runs into fledgling attorney, Lanie Winstead, who’s temporarily caught up in an inconvenient marriage that can’t be dissolved until after her estranged husband wins his re-election bid.

The attraction’s electric and irresistible, but when Lanie’s senator-husband is murdered, she’s charged with the crime. JD’s out of his element, so he enlists help from his law partners who specialize in criminal defense…

Great premise, I thought—but FRAMED was an entirely new direction for me, incorporating major elements of suspense—even a bit of the legal thriller—into what wanted to be a romance between a grieving widower and a young and vulnerable woman.

This book was two years in the making, and a result of many stops and starts as I felt my way through the conflicts and complications of a complex external plot having nothing to do with the inner feelings of Lanie and JD. I must have written 200,000 words to arrive at the final, 72,000-word novel!

My thanks to Julie Naughton for the expert editing that has made FRAMED a project I’m very proud of. I hope readers will enjoy it as much a I’ve loved stretching my wings and creating a story that’s as much suspense as romance, yet one that celebrates the triumph of good over evil, love over hate as these two story people find their way to happily ever after!

Contact info:
Website: https://annjacobs.net Email: ann@annjacobs.net Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/authrannjacobs
Facebook: https;//www.facebook.com/AnnJacobsAuthor

Buy info:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Framed-Courthouse-Connections-Book-8-ebook/dp/B01MSWYKLP/
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/framed-ann-jacobs/1125304684?ean=2940153553177
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/framed/id1184696357?mt=11 Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/framed-38