I love Montana. I mean, who wouldn’t? It’s like the contemporary version of the wild west with wide-open spaces, big, blue skies and mountains so rugged they pierce the horizon. My grandmother’s family is from Montana and many of them still live there. Her grandmother crossed the prairie in a covered wagon to stake a claim on the grasslands with a view of the Crazy Mountains in their back yards. My great-uncle was the sheriff of the small town where they grew up. He was also the mail man. When there were only so many people to do the jobs, you had to double up to get them done. The ranchers and farmers who still live there are as rugged as the hills and take care of their own.
I couldn’t think of a better place for my SEAL Hank Patterson to call home. He knew hardship and discipline before he joined the Navy and trained to become a SEAL. His upbringing made him the man he is. Now he’s back and starting a new life in the place of his birth. Saddle up and come along for the ride.
MONTANA SEAL
Brotherhood Protectors Series Book #1
Coming November 17, 2015
Free on Kindle Unlimited. Preorder now! Amazon | Amazon UK
Former SEAL and shining Hollywood starlet struggle against their burgeoning desire while trying to stay alive in the crosshairs of a murderous stalker.
Hank “Montana” Patterson never thought his call to duty would force him to leave his band of brothers in the Navy SEALs to return to the family ranch in the foothills of Montana’s Crazy Mountains. News that his father was shot, sends him rushing home to take over the reins of the Bear Creek Ranch. His forever belligerent father refuses his help, insisting Hank find the person who shot him. What Hank learns is the bullet was meant for the neighboring ranch owner, a Hollywood celebrity, a beautiful actress who once stole Hank’s heart.
Hometown girl, now a Hollywood temptress, Sadie McClain shot to fame and fortune on the big screen, earning her star on the walk of fame and a stalker who won’t back off. Escaping to her ranch in Montana, Sadie hopes to avoid her stalker, only to be hunted there as well. In need of a bodyguard with combat skills, Sadie hires her old flame, Hank to do the job.
Together they struggle to overcome their rekindled desire while fighting to stay alive in the crosshairs of a madman.
About the Author
Join my newsletter for a chance to win this great prize. Only subscribers are eligible for the drawing. I’ll choose a winner on Nov 1st when my next newsletter comes out.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author ELLE JAMES also writing as MYLA JACKSON is an award-winning author of stories including cowboys, intrigues and paranormal adventures that keep her readers on the edges of their seats. With over eighty stories in a variety of sub-genres and lengths she has published with Harlequin, Samhain, Ellora’s Cave, Kensington and Avon. When she’s not at her computer, she’s traveling, snow-skiing, boating, or riding her ATV, dreaming up new stories.
I’ve lived with vampires in my life for a long, long time. I know how strange that sounds, but let me explain.
All my life, I’ve felt as though I live in alternate worlds. The waking one and the one I slip into eagerly as often as I can get away with it—when I’m bored, in class or work, when I walk or swim, when I crawl into bed. My daydreams are vivid, and they often run with a “story track” of several weeks before I finish one and move to the next.
And I thought everyone dreamed as vividly as I do until I asked my then-husband, “What do you daydream about?” and discovered some people don’t—at all—unless it was to run through a scenario for work or practice a speech in their head.
I can’t imagine not having those other places to go to when I’m still or can act on “auto-pilot”. What about you? Are your daydreams like other lives? Or do you daydream rarely or not at all?
I hope you’ll catch up on the Night Fall stories! If you happen to read one, think about leaving a review. Other readers do pay attention to what you say.
Sidney Coffey, Seattle’s “News at Nine” girl, uncovers the scoop of a lifetime and her ticket into serious journalism. The only problem is—without proof—no one’s going to believe the victims of recent gang killings are in fact “undead” and vampires!
With her gut telling her there’s an even bigger story lurking beneath the surface, she decides to beard a reclusive vampire master in his den for an interview. But meeting the master only complicates things. For a woman with a voracious sexual appetite, the tall, dark and gloomy vamp proves an irresistible challenge.
When a reporter trespasses on his estate, Navarro is at first amused then annoyed that the little baggage is close to putting together the pieces of a dangerous plot involving an old enemy and a group of murdered geneticists. To keep her safe, Navarro issues an invitation he won’t let her refuse.
“Miss, are you all right?”
Sidney had already decided the evening couldn’t get any worse. Now Lurch was leering at her tits.
Unfortunately, she’d fallen in the only patch of light cast by the streetlamp on the other side of the wall. She sat up and crossed her arms over her chest. “I think I’m all right—the grass is soft,” she said, fighting to keep irritation out of her voice. She’d hoped to reach the front door before being escorted off the property.
“I brought you a blanket.”
Sidney stared at the folded bundle he held out then glanced up at his face. It was really a rather kind face—if a little cadaverous. White, bristly hair stuck up around his head, and bushy eyebrows, looking like fluffy white beetles, shadowed his deep-set eyes. And he was alarmingly tall.
Sidney grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. Then she struggled to her feet, assisted by his dry, bony hand. “Just point me to the gate,” she muttered, hoping he’d let her walk out with what was left of her dented pride. If a squad car showed up to take her to the station, she’d never hear the end of it.
“If you don’t mind my saying so, climbing over the fence was a very foolish thing to do.”
“It seemed like a plan at the time,” she said under her breath. “Of course, my Plan Bs always suck.”
His lips twitched. “Well, I’m glad you weren’t seriously injured.”
“Nope, I’m right as rain. I fell on my head—the hardest part of my body.” A chill wind picked up, and she gathered the blanket closer around her. “I’ll be on my way.” With a grimace of a smile, she turned toward the gate. Best to make a quick getaway.
“Ah…miss!”
Sidney grimaced. Shouldn’t she have known her escape wouldn’t be that easy? Murphy was running the show.
“You’re shivering. How about I make you a hot cup of tea before you leave.”
Sidney shot him a glance. What was he up to? She’d recognized his voice. He was the one who had turned her away at the gate. Was he planning to keep her here until the cops showed up? Or was he really offering her a kindness?
Her mama had never accused her of exercising an ounce of common sense. “I am cold. Tea would be lovely.”
The old man led her around the side of the house, through a darkened fragrant garden, and into the kitchen. Warmth embraced her, and Sidney was sure steam rose from her damp hair and skin.
He pointed to an inviting alcove in the corner of the kitchen. “Have a seat at the table while I rummage for the pot.”
As she sat at the cozy wooden table, Sidney couldn’t help thinking how ironic it was—this domestic little scene playing out in a vampire’s den.
“While the pot is boiling, I’ll search for something you can wear,” the elderly man said, then left through another door.
She counted to twenty before following.
The door led down a hallway, which opened into a large room with cream-colored walls and heavy, dark oak furnishings. She’d bet her paycheck the paintings gracing the pale walls were original, Old World art. Despite numerous overhead electrical fixtures, candles were lit in wall sconces and on the mantle above a massive fireplace.
“A little old fashioned, aren’t you, Mr. Navarro?” Sidney muttered. Where was he? And did she really have the courage to seek a lion in his den? She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she was nervous.
Moses had said the master was a civilized vamp, but in the end, weren’t they all ghouls?
She hitched the sagging blanket higher and chose another door, which led into a dark, paneled study. A fire crackled in a hearth, but the room appeared empty. Perhaps the master wasn’t at home after all.
But his desk might reveal answers to some of her questions.
With a quick glance back at the living room, she quietly closed the door behind her.
“Miss Coffey, I think you’ve taken a wrong turn,” a deep, lightly accented voice said.
Sidney whirled toward a leather armchair hidden in the shadows. Firelight flickered to reveal the outline of a man seated there. She didn’t need two guesses to figure out who he was.
She drew a deep breath, racking her brain for a good excuse for her presence. “Um…Mr. Navarro. I was looking for you.” She stepped deeper into the room—but the blanket didn’t come with her.
She grasped frantically for the edges as it parted over her shoulders, but in her nervousness she stumbled forward. The blanket pulled away as she righted herself.
Her hands flew to her breasts. Good lord, can this evening get any worse? “M-mister Navarro,” she stammered, hoping the dim lighting hid her burning cheeks and everything else. “Um…I seem to have caught my blanket in the door.”
“Lovely though your breasts are, I think they should leave,” he said, his tone lacking inflection.
The flatness of his voice, and the fact she couldn’t read his expression in the shadows, left her unnerved. She hadn’t thought through her plan past getting onto the property. Confronting the vamp himself, she realized just how precarious her situation was. He was a bloodsucker after all. Still, he’d asked her to leave—not become a dinner entrée.
Humiliated and more than a little scared, Sidney decided a hasty retreat was her best option. She turned back to the door and tugged at the knob, but the door didn’t budge. She cursed under her breath and tugged again. Then her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I, uh…I’ve wedged the door closed. Could you help me?”
He sighed behind her, and leather creaked as he rose.
Sidney covered her breasts again and stepped aside.
As he approached, his features were revealed in candlelight.
Her breath left her lungs in a whoosh. She’d heard the master vampire was handsome—but not one of her sources had mentioned he was downright beautiful—or that his dark gaze could pierce like a skewer.
She fought the urge to step farther away, but then her fear aroused anger within herself. Sidney Coffey was no mouse. She lifted her chin.
One black, perfectly arched brow rose, mocking her show of courage. He reached past her and easily pulled open the door. “I trust you can find your way out.”
The silky tone of his voice sent a shiver up her back, and her nipples drew tight and pointed beneath her palms.
From terror, she told herself. Certainly not from any sensual awareness. Never mind that this close his height and lean, muscled frame made her feel very small and vulnerable. A sensation that never failed to stir her libido.
And the goose bumps lifting on her skin couldn’t be caused by the midnight-colored hair that brushed the tops of his broad shoulders, or the olive complexion that contrasted darkly with his snowy cotton shirt.
Her gaze lifted. Black, fathomless eyes glittered back in a slightly narrow face, saved from appearing effeminate by his square jaw and the masculine shape of his mouth.
She lingered over that mouth. Perfectly symmetrical, not too wide, or too narrow—and firm.
Sidney swallowed and slowly returned to his unblinking stare. With her own mouth dry as a desert, she swallowed. It was now or never. She wouldn’t get a second chance. She lowered her hands from her breasts and extended one sweaty palm. “Mr. Navarro, I’m Sidney Coffey, and I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
After a recent trip with my boys to the orthodontist, we stopped at Subway for lunch (an ortho appointment ritual) and each got a meal deal that included potato chips (one of my greatest weaknesses). The first chip I pulled out was a wish chip and I asked my boys if they knew what a wish chip was. Neither of them did. Since we don’t keep potato chips in the house (I mentioned that whole weakness thing, right?), this was not a parental fail … and nothing that I couldn’t correct.
Do you all know what a wish chip is?
It’s a chip that’s folded over. You put it on your tongue, careful it doesn’t touch the side of your mouth or teeth, make a wish, then crush it between your tongue and the roof of your mouth (that’s my favorite part).
Silly, right? But it’s so fun. A boyfriend taught me about wish chips over 25 years ago and even though he wasn’t worth keeping, the wish chip knowledge sustained. After all, if you’re going to eat something that has the potential to kill you (sodium, fat, pure bliss), you may as well enjoy it thoroughly!!
The heroine in my January release, Marrying For Love, loves potato chips as much as I do (except she gives in to the weakness constantly). Jill has a 14-year-old son and she taught him early on about the magic of a wish chip.
In my December release, The Sound of Circumstance, Stacie’s weakness is Chai Frappuccinos from Starbucks – and yes, that’s another little piece of my reality that has made it into the stories I write. I believe there’s no bad mood a Chai can’t fix. By the way, my boys insist on hitting Starbucks after the orthodontist and we always pray for a streetside parking space because that’s the only way I’ll stop. So far, we haven’t had an ortho trip that hasn’t included a stop for Chai.
What quirky things do you do with food or weaknesses do you have? I’m giving away a $5.00 Amazon gift card, drawn randomly from everyone who responds before October 11, 2015.
About the Author
Big dreamer and certifiable overachiever Susan Ann Wall embraces life at full speed and volume. She’s a beer and tea snob, can be bribed with dark chocolate, and the #1 thing on her bucket list is to be the center of a Bon Jovi flash mob.
A national bestselling author, Susan’s newest novel, The Sound of Circumstance, is available for pre-order at the links included below!
Well, it is October so discussing paranormal romance seems appropriate :-} Besides, it ties in so nicely with the lovely Venetian mask I’m giving away 😉
I write erotic romance inspired by the classics. That focus allows me to follow wherever the original story leads me. So far it has led me to contemporary cowboy romance, sci-fi romance and paranormal romance. Erotic paranormal romance is what I call my sweet spot. I don’t know about you, but I really enjoy reading paranormal because I’m never sure what kind of world I’ll discover.
Like most, I’m a fan of a good shifter or vampire romance as much as the next person. But I also like angels, ghosts, curses, special powers and anything else that might make the ordinary, extraordinary. In my own stories, I have all different types of paranormal:
In Masque, there are 73 ghosts and a hero who has been alive for over 150 years.
In Passion’s Poison, the heroine is cursed with genetic poisonous orgasms.
In Passion of Sleepy Hollow, the Sleepy Hollow village of 1790 appears in present day only one weekend a year.
What type of paranormal romance is your favorite? Has there been one that was truly unique that you enjoyed? It seems a good time of year to take stock. After all, Halloween is at the end of this month 😉
That’s why I’ve made October my annual Mask Giveaway Month. I can’t leave Delilah’s blog without giving readers a chance to win one of the 7 hand decorated Venetian masks I’m giving away this month! And to celebrate this year, I have re-released Masque with a hot new cover. Here’s a short excerpt for your reading enjoyment, and don’t forget to enter the Rafflecopter for a chance to win. Good luck!
Rena Mills plans to turn an abandoned abbey into a haunted bed-and-breakfast to prove she can be successful without her ex-fiancé. What she finds inside is Synn MacAllistair, the distinguished, self-proclaimed Ghost Keeper. Her dreams soon fill with sexual cravings for him. But are they dreams?
Synn, born in 1828, is determined to free the souls of the resident spirits, blaming himself for bringing the Red Death that killed them. When Rena steps into the old Pleasure Palace, he’s sure he can take her through the after-midnight Pleasure Rooms and stoke her passion to complete the Masque so the souls can cross over. Her innocent fire makes him crave more, but it’s far too late for him.
As Rena begins her erotic journey, her heart becomes more involved with every sensual caress until she discovers by completing the Masque she would lose her ghosts. Synn’s betrayal wars with her compassion for her ghostly friends. Torn, she must make a choice between her financial security and freeing seventy-three trapped souls. Either way, she could lose her Synn.
Masque Excerpt:
Rena spun at the deep voice that caressed her senses. Before her stood a woman’s wet dream come to life, though as a respectable woman, she shouldn’t be having wet dreams, or so she’d been informed.
The man looked as if he’d stepped out of a nineteenth-century drawing room, except his coffee-brown hair hung loose about his shoulders. She was pretty sure it should have been tied in a queue to be proper. His entire demeanor projected upper class from his sharp nose, to his angular chin outlined by a neatly trimmed beard, to his broad-shouldered stance. A rather tall stance it was too, with one snugly encased leg crossed over the other. But his eyes stupefied her. They appeared gray, ancient, yet flickered with bright shards of blue.
Valerie recovered first, brandishing her tightly held candelabra as she stepped forward. “Who are you and what are you doing in here?”
He straightened and gave them a formal bow. “My name is Synn MacAllistair. That is Synn as in S Y N N. I’m the caretaker of the ghosts.”
Rena took a deep breath. She could feel her cheeks heating as his voice reverberated through her body. Sin fit him. When he moved his gaze from Valerie to herself, his intense scrutiny warmed her. She swallowed. “Uh, I didn’t think anyone lived here.”
His stare held hers captive. “I do.”
Valerie retreated to stand next to her. “Oh really. With a padlock on the outside of the gate?”
He raised his right brow, the look of arrogance worthy of Mr. Darcy. “There is a postern gate.”
Rena racked her brain. She’d heard that word before. Oh yes. “I thought only the owners of a castle knew the secret to that rear exit.”
He raised his brows together. “That is true but I desi—discovered it while following a small boy around the Abbey.”
Valerie crossed her arms. “A small boy?”
“Yes. The children in the neighborhood dare each other to get close to the Abbey. They want to see the ghosts, who are quite harmless to humans.” He gestured to the housekeeper. “Mrs. McMurray here will become more solid as the full moon approaches and will be pleased to help you in any way she can.”
They turned and stared at their ghost, having forgotten her. The older woman nodded vigorously, her white cap covering her gray hair falling to the side. Mrs. McMurray’s plump frame included pudgy arms sprouting from a short-sleeved blouse and a white apron that protected her skirt, but from the knees down, she didn’t exist at all.
Rena’s heart pounded. A real ghost. If what Synn said was true, that the ghosts would become solid, the possibilities for her new venture were endless. Could the ghosts serve breakfast to the guests? How would she pay them? She couldn’t resist asking. “Are you the one who keeps it so clean in here?”
Mrs. McMurray blushed and nodded again. She actually blushed.
Synn clarified. “She and a dozen maids have kept this place clean for centuries in the hopes that someone would come here to live. Do you plan to stay?”
She turned to answer him, but Valerie gave him a disapproving look. “The real estate agent didn’t say anything about anyone living here.”
He sighed, clearly bored. “No, I imagine he didn’t. He is what we refer to as a lickfinger.”
Rena chuckled at the strange word. She couldn’t help it. It sounded backward.
Valerie didn’t find the expression funny. “Well, you need to know, Rena owns this castle now, abbey, whatever you want to call it, and she has the right to throw you out.”
Rena grabbed her arm. “Valerie.” She changed her warning tone to a more pleasant octave as she addressed the sexy man in front of her. “You are of course welcome to stay, Synn. Perhaps you can help us understand the ghosts, the history of the Abbey and anything else that might be helpful.” She smiled encouragingly. She didn’t want him to leave.
He gave her an arrogant nod. “I would be happy to be of service. Perhaps I should start by helping you to bring your personal items upstairs as the footmen will not be solid enough to lift anything for another week.”
Another week? How strange. She didn’t remember seeing anything on television regarding ghosts changing with the moon. “Thank you. That would be perfect.” She could tell Valerie didn’t trust him. She, on the other hand, was thrilled to have him in the Abbey. Anyone who could help her succeed was welcome. The fact that the man was incredibly hot didn’t hurt either.
He nodded once and held his arm out to her. She looked at her friend and shrugged, then looped her arm with his. The second they made contact, a sizzling sensation raced across her skin.
He didn’t move. Did he feel it too? He gazed down at her, his face serious. “Shall we?”
She nodded, her throat having closed at his look. There was something sensual about his lips. They were strong, full and serious and made her want to taste him. Sheesh, hadn’t she learned anything from her failed engagement? She needed to keep her libido under control. Men like Synn wouldn’t appreciate her scandalous thoughts. Besides, who used phrases like “shall we”?
Feels like it’s been forever since I was here! I wanted to fit everyone in who wanted a date to blog, and didn’t leave myself any time. So, I’m waving madly—hi, there!
The biggest thing that’s happened around here is that the pool finally cooled. October 1st was the last time I ventured into the water—and man, was it ever cold! But I was determined to make it to October. Now, I get the job of maintaining that pretty, clear water without any reward. Y’all probably think I’m nuts, but I love the pool. After years of jogging, some of those years in combat boots, my poor feet can’t hold up to long walks (bone spurs, stretched ligaments). I love the pool. Did I already say that? The weight is off my feet, and I swim like a fish. Now, my only exercise for the next six and a half months will be the twice daily walks across the highway (maybe 600 yards?) to my dd’s place and cleaning house. Although Kelly swears we’ll be doing shortish nature walks with the kids this year. We’ll see.
Are any of you water babies, too? Do you get depressed when you can’t swim? What exercise do you do in the cold winter months?
Answer for a chance to win a copy of It Takes a SEAL!
* * * * *
Enjoy a glimpse inside my Adventure Girls series.
Ex-SEALs and an Army Ranger—more adventure than most women could handle…
It Takes a SEAL, An Adventure Girls, Inc. Story
A travel agent visiting friends in the Bahamas is stranded on a desert island with a sexy ex-SEAL after their private pleasure cruise is interrupted by men who mistake her lover for a reclusive billionaire.
Justin was poised to thrust, and he knew he’d draw no complaints from the woman lying beneath him. Instead, he paused.
What the hell was he doing? Rushing this like he was a teenage boy with the first girl to say yes. Susan was worthy of so much more than a quick tumble. He ought to be worshiping her body, seducing her mind to ensure her pleasure and make double-damn sure she said yes again. Because he wanted more than this.
Slowing down was going to kill him. Her hair was a wild, tangled damp mess. Her skin a little pink from sunburn. And yet, she was impossibly beautiful. Long and lean. Her small breasts tipped with pretty cotton-candy pink nipples. Her mound was smooth, a courtesy he appreciated because he wanted to spend time with his mouth buried there, maybe hours and hours.
Her eyebrows furrowed, and her hand shot down, passing his cock to grip his balls. She gave them a firm tug. “This is not the time for an attack of finesse.”
His breath gusted with a laugh. “An attack of finesse?”
“Yeah, you don’t have to prove a thing to me. Just be quick.”
He grunted and gave her a swirl of his hips, sinking slightly deeper into her slick channel. “How’d you know?”
Her gaze narrowed. “You had this look, like you were dying to go with it, do it fast, but then you sighed.” Her eyelids dipped and her gaze grew smoky. “I won’t be disappointed. I promise. I can already tell this is going to be something special.”
“And you know that how?”
She tugged his balls again, but then her fingers began to roll them, massaging them, and his cock got a little harder. “I know,” she whispered, “because you’re right there, and so am I. Finish it.” She released him, and her hands clamped both cheeks of his ass, her fingernails digging into his skin.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured. “You’re gonna leave bruises.”
“And you care?”
He gave her a crooked grin and planted both hands on the mattress on either side of her shoulders. “Might be hard to explain to my other girlfriends.”
“Are you trying to piss me off?”
“Yeah. I like it when you’re eyes go cold as icicles.”
She shook her head, and gave a sexy snort. Then her legs shifted, feet sliding up, and she pumped her hips, forcing his cock deeper inside her. “You fill me up, SEAL-boy. Do it now.”
And since he was more than ready to concede the battle, he took the plunge, his thrust so hard and fast her breath gusted. He gave her another deep, sharp thrust and watched her head tilt back, her mouth opening as she held, suspended, the pleasure there for him to see in her reddening cheeks and tightly closed eyes. “That’s it baby. That’s it,” he said with another strong pump of his hips. He burrowed and twisted, tunneling fast into her slippery depths.
When at last he was fully seated, he came down on an elbow and slid a hand beneath her smooth, round butt, squeezing it, molding it as he gave her shorter thrusts, more targeted, waiting for her gasps. A whimpered mew told him he’d found just the right spot to rake the crown of his cock against again and again.
She curled under him, lifting her head to nuzzle his neck, slinging a long leg around his hip as she countered his thrusts. The way she hugged him close made his chest fill and tighten. She was a snuggle-bunny, a mewling kitten, a sexy mess as she rubbed and hummed and moaned.
He held her fast and rolled, bringing her over him, and she shook back her hair, snugged her knees close to his body, then began to rock, forward and up, down and back, slowly at first, biting her lower lip as she savored the motion, driving down on his cock. Then she pumped faster, her breasts quivering and jerking, and he reached up to cup them, fondling them and rubbing the tips, watching them grow engorged, the tips extending. His abdomen knotted as he leaned up to toggle one with his tongue, and then he sucked it into his mouth, noting the catch in her breath and the hot liquid flowing around his cock as she churned her sweet cream.
He suckled her other breast, and she cried out, but she was losing rhythm, her movements jerking as she became more frantic. He rolled them again and pushed her thighs upward, hands skimming the backs of her thighs, his lips grazing the tender insides before he locked her ankles behind his neck. Then he lifted her hand from his shoulder and sucked two fingers into his mouth, wetting them before popping them free. “Baby, touch yourself.”
And then he braced his weight on his hands and began to piston fast, fucking her hard, watching avidly as she lowered her wet fingertips into the top of her stretched folds and rubbed.
Her breaths were ragged, chopped apart with his quick thrusts, and she was gasping, moaning, wriggling beneath him as he pounded. Sweat slicked their bellies and their faces, and added another layer of moist sounds to their coupling.
The moment she came, her sex tightened around him and he shouted, the sensation of her clenching around him too much, too delicious to resist. He exploded, rutting harder. His body tightened, every muscle in his thighs and abdomen, his arms, shuddering as come spat from his balls in wave after wave of release.
When he opened his eyes, his gaze locked with hers. He quickly reached back to unlock her ankles and help he slide her legs down to rest on the mattress, and then he fell against her, nuzzling into the corner of her neck, smiling as her fingers combed through his hair and rubbed his cheek and ear. Both their chest billowed as they recovered their breath.
At last, Justin lifted his head, sought her swollen mouth and kissed her. Their tongues touched, a tentative caress, sweet in its wonder.
“You okay?” he whispered. “Stretch any tendons?” he said, lifting a brow.
Her smile was tired, but blissful. “I’m better than okay. Need a little praise?”
“Yeah. Stroke me, baby.”
She laughed. “Justin Walsh,” she said, trailing her fingers through his hair. “I’m speechless.”
“I’m not.” His smile stretched.
“Are you ever?”
“Now, what do you think?”
Her gaze slid away. “I think, you have a right to be boastful.”
“Now that’s very pale praise. Hardly worth mentioning. Guess I’ll just have to try harder next time.”
She dragged in a deep breath. “You were…” She stopped and swallowed, “…exactly what I needed.”
Blessings of the fall season! I’m a big fan of whimsy. Since I write emotionally intense, character-driven BDSM romance which explores the darkness of human nature on the way to the happily-ever-after, I think putting whimsy in my daily life is my balance. It touches my heart, knowing that people create and indulge simple pleasures to make themselves and others feel good and smile. For instance, I was just visiting Disneyworld, and I love their fall decorations, like these pumpkin people. The existence of whimsy supports a theory I have; that maybe the best way to gain perspective in the midst of grief or despair is not to come up with some big theory to explain or cure the problem, but to figure out a small way to touch the heart and keep the candle burning in darkness. The darkness may always be there, sure, but come hell or high water, that candle’s not going out.
In my own stories, I’ve found indulging those moments in the midst of bigger problems is a way to keep the story from being too dark and offer the reader as much hope as the characters. Like this short scene in Mirror of My Soul, where Tyler is wondering if love is enough to heal Marguerite’s broken soul. He’s never even seen her laugh. They get caught out in a rain storm and…
In the way of Southern storms, the full force of the shower was on them in twenty more steps, a heavy rain that made the winding asphalt path slick and dark like a raven’s wing. Steam rose from the tarred surface, disrupted by the raindrops. Marguerite stopped, pulling her hand free to push her wet hair from her face. Tyler saw her eyes were laughing, her mouth quivering against the real thing.
“It’s like music,” she said, her voice rising over the wind. Lightning flashed over her, followed by the roar of thunder. His angel spread her arms and began to twirl, her hair spinning with her, the wet skirt fluttering with the wind, grabbing for slick purchase on her legs.
As it grew wetter, the dress’s white cotton fabric began to cling to her. When she twirled, she stepped into a puddle, splattering water on her ankles and the glistening curves of her calves. Gathering up her hair in her hands, she held it to the top of her head as she swayed with the movement of the wind, her eyes closing, her mind obviously concentrating on the presence of the storm on her body. She undulated her upper torso with that rhythm, began to perform a sensuous dance with the elements. Turning and jumping as lightly as a dancer, then stomping in the puddle with both feet with the abandon of a child.
She opened her eyes, stretched out a hand and he took it, moving with her in a spinning dance across the path and back. Taking both her hands, he swung with her in a wide circle, mesmerized by the way the water rolled down her face and the top curves of her breasts, revealed by the scooped neckline of the dress. He brought her into him, a turn that put her back against his body. He held her there, nudging her head to the side to suck beads of water off the side of her throat. When his hand came up to catch a cold wet nipple through the cloth, her back arched, rubbing her bottom against him. She broke away, headed down the path as her laughter—her laughter—called him to give pursuit.
Kicking off the comfortable slides, she ran from him in bare feet, her arms wide like wings, ropes of hair spilling down her back wildly like a glossy cape. His heart had wings of its own, as if he were a young man again with no weights on his heart, but with the wisdom of his present age to know what a tremendous gift this moment was. He caught up with her, seized her hand. They kept running, both running from shadows but running together, throwing off a light he reflected might keep those shadows cowering in the past where they belonged.
This excerpt reminds me of that beautiful lantern scene in the movie Tangled and the song that goes with it: “I See the Light”. It always makes me cry, in a good way. Hope and loss rise together hand in hand in that scene, and leaves me full of faith that the two will always at least balance, even if one can’t vanquish the other.
Hmmm…. Well, when I started this, I’d intended to write about my vampires, because we’re headed toward Halloween and the next release in my Vampire Queen series, Night’s Templar. My thought was I could talk about how sexy AND scary vampires can be, but I got a little derailed. That’s okay, though. I’ll still give you a snippet from one of my vampire books before I finish this post. If you love vampires, and want to explore the vampire-servant relationship from a Dom/sub perspective, you can read blurbs and full chapter excerpts for all dozen or so books in the series here. The upcoming one (late Oct-early Nov release) is a male/male BDSM romance, featuring a Fae Lord and a vampire. As you may have guessed from the title, the vampire was a Templar Knight!
Since many of you may not have read the series yet, I’m giving you a teaser from Beloved Vampire, Book IV, because some readers prefer to read it as the first book. That’s because it can standalone, is a great introduction to my vampire world, and has a wonderful male vampire as the Dom hero, Lord Mason. If you decide to read Mason and Jessica’s story, you also get a gentler introduction to Lady Lyssa, a Domme vampire who’s a bit scary at first, but whose story with her servant Jacob actually starts the series with Vampire Queen’s Servant. Anyhow, here’s the teaser from Beloved Vampire:
Lord Mason went to one knee next to Jessica and curled a lock of her hair around her ear, even as she tried to draw her head away from him. Vampires usually prohibited their servants from looking them in the eye, but he’d specifically asked her to look at him, a couple times now. However, she stared down at the towel wrapped around her, not wanting to see his handsome face, feel the pull in her lower abdomen at the slope of jaw, high cheekbones, the firm lips and steady eyes.
“I meant what I said, Jessica. No harm will come to you here, but you cannot cause harm to others, either. Attack one of my staff again, and I will keep you with me at all times.” She noted from beneath her lashes that his glance strayed over her throat, then down to the tenuously tucked towel. “You know enough about vampires to realize that if I’m around you too much, I will not deny myself a taste of you, in several different ways.”
“You said . . . I’d be safe.” She swallowed as his brow lifted.
“You would be quite safe, Jessica. As safe as you were in Amara’s arms. Keep that in mind before you decide to take out your anger on an innocent again. If you need to fight with someone”—his gaze sparked in a way that inspired fear and yet heat again, low in her belly—“you call on me.”
Jessica is a strong, amazing heroine who has been through a terrible ordeal with her previous vampire master, so she and Mason have a long road before she can trust him and her submissive instincts again.
And that’s all from me right now (except for my giveaway at the bottom – don’t overlook that!). For those who don’t know my work, I do contemporary and paranormal BDSM romance. So far, I have about 40 books and six series happening. I know, I know, I should have mentioned this at the first, but that seemed like a boring opener (grin). Here’s how to find out more about those books –
GIVEAWAY – You knew I wasn’t going to leave you without offering you goodies, right? For a $15 Amazon, B&N or ARe gift certificate, AND a free ebook of your choice, tell me about a piece of whimsy in your life that makes you smile. A cute figurine on your mantle, a memory of you or someone you love acting silly, a pair of pajama bottoms with snoozing sheep printed on it… you get the gist. You can also leave any comments and questions for me as well. I’ll randomly choose a winner after about 48 hours and post the person’s name here, but if you feel comfortable putting your email address with the comment, I can also email you directly if you win!
I’ll assume that y’all already know that book #4 in the Night Fall series released yesterday. I hope you love it! And there are more stories coming in the series—Knight Edition and Night Fall on Dark Mountain, and more stories beyond the six I’m revising and re-releasing. The first story I’ll tackle after book #6 will be the mysterious Viper’s story. I left him in a bit of pickle for far too long…
In the meantime, I’m still writing shorties—because I have to! When I’m between stories and feeling like I just don’t have the energy to start another longer project, writing a shorty gives me a kind of creative break. I hope you’ll give them a try.
Today, I uploaded a short story I wrote on Monday (yes, I can write one of these in one or two days!). It’s my latest Stepbrothers Stepping Out short story. So, you know it’s super naughty. It involves a little sexual blackmail, BDSM, voyeurism, menage… And I managed all that in just 6700 words. 🙂 As soon as it’s live, I’ll post the link here. Be watching for it!
As for the contest, the question I’d like answered is in the subject line of this blog!I’ll choose one winner. The prize will be the winner’s choice of any of the stories on the shorties carousel below!
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Boss
“Would you come inside my office, Zoe?”
I’d have recognized that smooth whiskey voice anywhere. My nerves jangled and my breath hitched. I picked up my notepad and a pen and stood, smoothing down the sides of my knee-length skirt. Then I walked to his door and let myself in. His office was huge. Two monitors sat atop his desk, to the side, giving me a view of his upper body and thick dark hair. He was looking downward at an open file.
I took a deep breath to calm myself and strode toward his desk. “Mr. Patterson—”
“Trace, seeing as you had sex in my pool.”
My jaw dropped. His head lifted and his dark gaze narrowed on my expression. Heat filled my cheeks, and I wondered if I was about to be fired.
He waved a hand at the chair pulled close to the front of his desk, and I sat, landing a little hard because my knees gave out.
“Nothing to say?” he said, his voice low and cool.
“I apologize. I hope you won’t think less of Grayson. It was all my idea.”
“I know.” His head canted to the side, and his gaze moved from my face to my white blouse and lower. “Would you like to know how I know?”
Because I didn’t know what the right answer might be, I nodded.
He turned one of the monitors toward me. In the center was a video frame.
With the touch of a button, I watched as I stepped behind the falls, took a seat and then began to strip off my underwear. The resolution was terrific. So good, I could see my taut nipples. Then Grayson arrived and the footage continued to play.
Until that moment, I didn’t realize just how good Gray and I looked together. Neither of us made horrible faces when we made love. The muscles of his broad shoulders flexed, as did those of his buttocks. His pace was quite athletic.
I watched as I pleasured myself , tonguing my own nipples. Watched Grayson watching me, his blue gaze darkening as it trailed down my breasts to my quickly toggling finger.
The video stopped, and I realized not only was my face flushed, but my entire body was hot. I’d grown aroused.
And from the dark glint in Trace’s brown eyes, he knew it.
I swallowed hard then cleared my throat. “I can’t have been the first guest to fuck in your pool.” I nearly died, my tongue getting in front of my brain. I’d never been able to curb it. Especially when I was angry.
The corners of his mouth twitched, then his lips settled into a firm, straight line. “You’re very new. I’ve been looking over your personnel file.”
My gaze darted to the folder. “I know I don’t have much of a resume. Frankly, I was surprised when your company hired me.”
“I like young employees , love the energy,” he said, his voice smooth but not giving a hint of what he was really thinking. “They bring fresh ideas. And I like setting them free to become who they are meant to be.”
I nearly rolled my eyes at that bit of metaphysical crap, but managed to keep my gaze fixed on him. That wasn’t so hard. His strong featured-face was very striking. Not pretty in the least. Overtly masculine. Again, heat flared, settling in my belly. I shifted in my seat. “You aren’t exactly decrepit yourself.”
He flashed a quick smile then gave me another sharp stare. “I like employees who take risks. Who are open to new ideas.”
“I’m just a secretary. I’m not going to redesign a computer operating system.” Good lord, would I ever shut up?
He tapped his finger against the top of his desk. “Tell me about your… brother.”
*~*~*
I know I’m a terrible tease. Just when you were getting to the good part…
Anyways… It’s brand new. Something you can read, in its entirety, while you’re waiting in the doctor’s office, during your lunch break, or right before bed. A smutty little bit of pleasure. And there’s more below!
To see more of my currently available short stories, check out this page: Short Stories
Have you ever wished on a chip?
The biggest thing that’s happened around here is that the pool finally cooled. October 1st was the last time I ventured into the water—and man, was it ever cold! But I was determined to make it to October. Now, I get the job of maintaining that pretty, clear water without any reward. Y’all probably think I’m nuts, but I love the pool. After years of jogging, some of those years in combat boots, my poor feet can’t hold up to long walks (bone spurs, stretched ligaments). I love the pool. Did I already say that? The weight is off my feet, and I swim like a fish. Now, my only exercise for the next six and a half months will be the twice daily walks across the highway (maybe 600 yards?) to my dd’s place and cleaning house. Although Kelly swears we’ll be doing shortish nature walks with the kids this year. We’ll see.
Blessings of the fall season! I’m a big fan of whimsy. Since I write emotionally intense, character-driven BDSM romance which explores the darkness of human nature on the way to the happily-ever-after, I think putting whimsy in my daily life is my balance. It touches my heart, knowing that people create and indulge simple pleasures to make themselves and others feel good and smile. For instance, I was just visiting Disneyworld, and I love their fall decorations, like these pumpkin people. The existence of whimsy supports a theory I have; that maybe the best way to gain perspective in the midst of grief or despair is not to come up with some big theory to explain or cure the problem, but to figure out a small way to touch the heart and keep the candle burning in darkness. The darkness may always be there, sure, but come hell or high water, that candle’s not going out.
Hmmm…. Well, when I started this, I’d intended to write about my vampires, because we’re headed toward Halloween and the next release in my 
