Dying is easy. Comedy is difficult.

Does this saying have the ring of truth? Hell yeah! But I haven’t died (yet), so it’s subjective.

I dabble in humor writing the way a minimalist dips their brush into paint. As a rule, less is more. A smattering works, but a heavy hand can overwhelm the artistic aesthetic.

My humor articles appear on my blog, The Snarkology, at infrequent intervals. Imagine Erma Bombeck Uncensored. (Yes, I talk about SEX.)

I try to bring The Funny to all of my books, but the potential for humor being lost in translation is vast. For instance, my current Work in Progress is an erotic space opera called Viking Love Slave.

The logline sums it up:  Viking gods getting it on with nubile love slaves… In Space.

The story contains a lot of lighthearted elements, but I’m discovering those must be presented thoughtfully or I risk my true intention (getting laughs) of being lost in translation. This has been especially evident as the book entered its first developmental editing round. I’m working with a new editor who has identified a purposefully humorous scene as being too melodramatic.

One of the hardest things an author does in the pursuit of good storytelling is balancing their editor’s advice against gut instinct.  Writers have big egos so accepting guidance can be difficult.  This creates conflict, which is great between protagonists and their counterparts. Maybe not so much in a professional relationship that depends upon cooperation for productivity.

Allow me to divert into a cautionary tale to illustrate…

I have an editor-friend who is a reformed Langolier. (She has pointy teeth but only eats kittens on Thursdays.) When we talk, she sometimes brings up a problematic author at her job that consistently reduces the editorial staff to ripping their hair out at the roots. We shall call this special needs author “Debby Diva” for the sake of discretion.

Debby Diva has “a voice” which is utterly unique to her. She is a special snowflake in the literary blizzard. It doesn’t matter whether her editor says her prose sucks or can’t be understood. Obviously, it’s on the reader to invest the time and effort to decipher Debby’s intent. If they fail, they aren’t trying hard enough.

I don’t want to be Debby Diva, and neither do you.

So what am I to say to my VLS editor when I don’t agree with her assessment? Yes, the prose is purple but it’s deliberately purple. And no, the entire story isn’t written in that style, because that would be too much. The joke is only funny to a point, and then you’ve taken it too far.

My best defense, perhaps, is the Are Readers Laughing? Test. The assessment pivots upon whether I can show the scene to a reader and get a good laugh. A giggle allows me to justify the style to my editor as genuinely humorous. A groan sends me back to the drawing board.

So you tell me. Does the scene below make you giggle or groan?

I’ll provide a free ebook copy of any title from my backlist to a randomly chosen commenter. (Excluding the Alphas Gone Wild box set.)

Viking Love Slave

The day she planned to kill a man, she wore an underbust corset that lifted her full breasts so high her nipples threatened to burst from the neckline of her servant’s frock. Prior to assuming her assassin’s duties, she spent hours bathing, polishing, and preparing every square inch of her body in anticipation of her first murder, as nervous as a bride on her wedding night. Even having been warned not to do anything to attract undo attention, Tierwyn couldn’t stand the thought that she wouldn’t look spectacular.

Better to risk arrest and execution.

Hefting a platinum tray of raw oysters, Tierwyn edged closer to the table. King Methedon of Alfheim dined with his guests at a long, rectangular table that ran through the center of the grand room. Prime Minister Seniormost Fussi Pantaloons sat to the king’s left. Crown Prince Thor of the Asgard Star Empire occupied the place of honor to the king’s right, and to Thor’s right was his advisor, Loki.

Word of the Asgard space fleet’s arrival had spread like quicksilver through the capitol. Nobles bedecked in jewels and finery filled the great hall to capacity. They represented the wealthiest and most prestigious members of the peerage.

Nervous tremors ran through her slender frame as she lowered the platter, aiming for an empty area between the visiting dignitaries. As she extended her arms, black-haired Loki tilted his head toward her. He bestowed a flirtatious wink and a smile upon the elf maiden, followed by a sharp pinch upon her posterior.

“Oh!” An indignant cry escaped her startled lips. Tierwyn fumbled and the tray of shellfish tilted perilously toward the royal lap.

“I’ll take those before you wind up wearing them.” Loki smoothly reached across Thor and removed the tray before the oysters completed their journey. In the process of helping, Loki’s elbow just happened to collide with Tierwyn’s hip, destroying what remained of her balance.

“Oh no!” Flapping her arms, Tierwyn tilted off-balance so her face descended toward the Crown Prince’s crotch. Gasping in shock, her eyes widened and her breath exploded from her lungs in a gust as she caught her first glimpse of the epic protuberance. His skin-taut stretchy pants appeared prepared to burst.

Great Gonads! The crown jewels must be enormous! Could the Asgard prince be wearing an insert? Sweet Goddess, she quivered with ecstatic giddiness, torn between curiosity and terror of the truth.

Swooning eagerly toward her dire fate, Tierwyn uttered a groan of disappointment when strong hands caught her at the last moment. Her thighs quivered in primal reaction to the powerful fingers encircling her upper limbs. Sighing, she gazed with longing and disappointment after the destiny denied her. To her great sorrow, his bulge receded from proximity with her face as he lifted her.

*~*~*~*

Viking Love Slave will be released in Spring 2016. To receive notification of Melissa Snark’s new releases, subscribe to her newsletter at: https://www.melissasnark.com/mailing-list/  You’ll receive a free ebook just for joining.

Author Bio:

Author Melissa Snark lives in the San Francisco bay area with her husband, three children, and a glaring of litigious felines. She reads and writes fantasy and romance, and is published with The Wild Rose Press & Nordic Lights Press. She is a coffeeoholic, chocoholic, and a serious geek girl. Her Loki’s Wolves series stems from her fascination with wolves and mythology.

• She blogs about books and writing on https://www.thesnarkology.com/.
  Visit her website at https://www.melissasnark.com/.
• Follow her on Twitter: https://twitter.com/MelissaSnark
• Follow her on Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0076EEQIU
• Follow her on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/MelissaSnark
• Email: MelissaSnark at gmail.com

• Subscribe to her newsletter: https://www.melissasnark.com/mailing-list/

UPDATE: The winner of this contest is…Jean!

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Just thought I’d share a pretty new cover—and tell you about the great deal going on now.

The second book in the Night Fall series will be released toward the end of this week. Love vampires? Love sexy threesomes? Like a little suspense with bite? Well, you’ll love Truly, Madly…Deadly!

But before the book releases, I want to be sure you’ve read the Book #1 — Sm{B}itten! So, I made sure you have no excuses left for why you haven’t read Sm{B}itten—I entered it into Kindle Unlimited, so it’s FREE to KU subscribers, and just $0.99 for everyone else!

I’d love to hear from you. Have you read Sm{B}itten? Are you excited for Truly, Madly…Deadly? Are you ready for a fast-paced, paranormal series?

Comment for a chance to win a free copy of another Night Fall story, Silent is the Knight!

UPDATE: The winner of this contest is…Elaine Swinney!

* * * * *

That’s right. You read that title correctly. I’ve officially popped my paranormal cherry. Woo Hoo!!!

And I did it in style too!! In a paranormal boxed set with 9 other authors who I adore!!!

Violet’s Shadow is my first toe dipping novella into the paranormal pond and I’ll admit it. I was nervous. Paranormal to me has to be impeccable to be good and I didn’t just want it to be good, I wanted it to be great!!!

So here’s a tiny taste of Violet and her journey to be Alpha of a pack of Shadows she didn’t even know existed…

Two weeks alone in a secluded cabin is music to Violet’s ears. Until she sees a shadow in the forest with red glowing eyes. Red eyes she’s seen in her dreams for as long as she can remember. Eyes that make her want to forget the rest of the world. But she doesn’t believe in fairy tales anymore.

Rayden was sent to protect her.  To keep her safe.  Nothing more than to guide her as she transitions into a Shadow and takes her rightful place in the pack.  What he finds instead is the mate he’s been unwilling to search for and a passion so fierce he’ll never be able to walk away.

Violet’s spent her entire life aching to belong and she finally finds it in the pack of Shadows she is destined to join.  Everything she’s ever wanted in life and love is finally at her fingertips if she’s brave enough to embrace…her Shadow.

And what do I want to do to celebrate? Have a contest of course!!

So comment below and tell me what you love about paranormal
and who your favorite paranormal authors are???

I’ll pick a random winner who will win an e-book of their choice and maybe some extra swag too cause it’s awesome and shiny!!!

Happy commenting!!!

 Available for PreOrder now!!!

 Coming out on June 30th 2015!!!!

Romancing the Wolf

Sexy and we know it! They’re on the hunt after your heart. Discover 11 brand new passionate tales of friendship, desire, wolves, survival, and redemption. Escape to another world, another place, and another romance…

Warning: Contains wild heroes and heroines, tempestuous passion, old secrets, new discoveries, and pack ties binding them together. Sometimes love’s greatest challenge is romancing the wolf…

Jennifer Kacey – Violet’s Shadow (Shadow Mates) 

Violet’s spent her whole life searching for where she belongs. Two weeks alone in a secluded cabin is music to her ears, until she sees a shadow in the forest with red glowing eyes. Rayden was sent to protect and guide her. Instead, he finds the mate he’s been unwilling to search for and a passion so fierce he’ll never be able to walk away. Everything she’s ever wanted in life and love is finally at her fingertips if she’s brave enough to embrace…her Shadow

Desiree Holt- Heart of the Wolf (The Devora)

Saranna DeWylde The Ardennes Curse (Woolven Secret)

Virginia Nelson – Odd Mate (The Odd Series)

Gayle Donnelly – Running with the Wolf (The Cascadia Wolves)

Cara Carnes – Redemption’s Forgiveness (The Rending)

Brandy Walker – Under Her Spell (Keystone Predators)

Rebecca Royce – Always (Dragon Wars)

Heather Long – Wolf with Benefits (Wolves of Willow Bend)

Melissa Schroeder – The Alpha’s Saving Grace (Lonestar Wolf Pack)

*~*~*~*~*

Need something to wet your whistle?

May I suggest a delicious bite out of the Members Only series…….. 😛

The books in the Members Only Series can be found here…
Together In Cyn
Haleigh’s Ink
A Very Ménage Christmas
Duke’s Valentine
Orgasm University
Accidental Voyeur
Roman’s To-Do List
Jenna’s Consent
Laila’s Lies

Stand Alone
Buried Permission
Beneath the Pages
Nico’s Curse
Elite Metal
Final Surrender
Violet’s Shadow in Romancing the Wolf – Coming 6/30/2015

Jennifer Kacey is a writer, mother, and business owner living with her family in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.

Website – https://www.jenniferkacey.com/
Newsletter – https://jenniferkacey.us7.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=f09bd32b8c279cebcc930950e&id=2a45c210e8
Blog – The Decadent Divas – https://www.thedecadentdivas.blogspot.com/
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/jennifer.kacey.7
Facebook Author Page – https://www.facebook.com/jenniferkaceyauthor
Twitter – https://twitter.com/JenniferKacey
Amazon Page – https://www.amazon.com/Jennifer-Kacey/e/B00GXHUB30/ref=s9_simh_gw_p351_d9_al1?_encoding=UTF8&refinementId=618073011&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_s=center-2&pf_rd_r=0G8ZPDQJVKJPKXNBRY10&pf_rd_t=101&pf_rd_p=1688200382&pf_rd_i=507846
Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6941549.Jennifer_Kacey
Pinterest – https://pinterest.com/jenniferkacey/

I want to thank the uber talented and extremely generous, Delilah Devlin, for hosting me today. Leave a comment for the chance to win one of my digital titles.

We probably all remember the old saying: To error is human—forgive divine. As human beings, it’s in our nature to make mistakes. It’s called being human. I think it’s also in our nature to try and correct our mistakes whenever possible. This is what I had to do with the second novella, KIRA, from my BDSM series, Heartache and Hopeful.

I originally wrote KIRA back in late 2012/early 2013. At that time, I hadn’t done my due diligence in researching BDSM so I went with the preconceptions (and misconceptions!) that society held about this alternative lifestyle.

The story centers around Kira and her spanking needs. Instead of having Kira embrace her urges as healthy and normal, I wrote her as being ashamed of her innate desires. Why? Because I personally don’t like pain and thus couldn’t conceive of anyone who would. Big mistake…luckily one that was easy to correct. All I had to change the blurb and tweak a couple of the loves scenes.

Here’s part of the old blurb:

When Kira Schafer’s mega-millionaire—and seriously controlling—father insists she marry one of his company’s junior executives or get cut out of the will, her decisions is an easy one. As much as she loves her dad, she won’t be bullied into a marriage where her needs aren’t met. So she leaves the big city to settle in the small Nebraskan town. And maybe, just maybe the quiet, country life will calm the deep-seated spanking urges which have plagued her for years.

And the new and improved one:

When Kira Schafer’s mega-millionaire—and seriously controlling—father insists she marry one of his company’s junior executives or get cut out of the will, her decision is an easy one. As much as she loves her dad, she won’t be bullied into a marriage where her needs aren’t met. So she leaves the big city to settle in a small farming town. The only drawback to her plan is the lack of bondage clubs in rural Nebraska. But Kira knows abstaining from her spanking urges is but a small price to pay in exchange for her freedom.

In the old version, I also created an inconsistency in Kira’s character… She won’t marry a man who can’t satisfy her, yet she wants to calm her spanking urges. In hindsight, it doesn’t make a lot of sense. Duh, right? <grin> It’s my hope that my revised edition is a truer account of what a practitioner in the leather community might actually think and feel.

So what mistakes have you made and what did you do to correct them? Leave a comment for the chance to win any one of my digital titles. Thanks again to the awesome Delilah Devlin for letting me hang out with her today.

Now please enjoy this excerpt from KIRA:

Hunter wrestled with the wildly thrashing bundle. Kira might not be bigger than a minute, but she had a lot of fight in her. Of course, being frightened usually gave a person extra strength. And by the way Kira was twisting, she had to be scared out of her mind.

He forced his mind to ignore the fact she was clad only in a towel. A towel that was fast slipping to the ground with each torque of her body. Sweat trickled into his eyes from the exertion. That and the wool ski mask he wore to ensure if she did get free, she wouldn’t recognize him. Finally, he wrapped her in a bear hug with her arms pinned to her sides. He took care not to hurt her, just get her attention. He mentally groaned at the soft feel of her curves.

“Settle down,” he mumbled in his best menacing voice. He didn’t need her identifying his voice either. He shook her once when she maintained her resistance. “I won’t hurt you.”

The clean, cotton bag over her head bellowed in and out, clearly distinguishing the outline of her nose and mouth. By the rapid movement, she was probably going to hyperventilate, maybe even pass out. Not at all what he wanted, but having her conked out would make the four hour drive to Omaha that much easier.

“Why should I believe you?”

Though her voice was muffled, she nonetheless sounded pissed. At least she’d stopped struggling. He lessened his hold.

Big mistake.

The instant his arms relaxed, Kira leaped from his grasp. Her bare foot connected to his leg just above the kneecap. He grunted at the impact and went down hard on his other knee. He reached for her, only managing to snag the towel as she danced away. For a long moment Hunter forgot to breathe. He was too distracted by her glorious nakedness for such a trivial concern.

A rosy flush covered her skin, whether from fighting him or her shower, he didn’t know. Sleek legs, with a delectable mesh of hair at the apex, flared to hourglass hips then a slender waist. Two perfectly proportioned breasts, neither too big nor too small, jutted forward, their pink centers puckered tight.

Almost too late, Hunter saw her pull back one supple leg. He only just dodged the kick blindly aimed at his head. Kira snatched the bag from her head. Unmindful of her nudity, she lunged for the small bed against the far wall and retrieved a wooden baseball bat from underneath. She wielded it with the power and confidence of Babe Ruth.

Great job, Rice. She’s seriously pissed and now she has a weapon. Fucking great.

She swung right at his skull. If he’d moved a nanosecond slower, his brains would have landed in next week. He vaulted to his feet and got into a fighting stance, his hands up. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She swung again. “Really? Is that why you broke into my place? Because you don’t want to hurt me?” Another swing.

Hunter stumbled backwards to avoid her bludgeon and tripped over his feet, losing his balance and tumbling to the floor in a heap. She towered over him, the bat raised high above her head.

Under any different circumstances, he’d take the time to admire Kira’s exquisitely naked beauty. But with the imminent threat of her bashing in his cranium, he thrust his hands up in complete surrender. “Kira, wait! It’s me, Hunter!”

KIRA BUY LINKS
Amazon
B&N
Kobo

KIRA is also part of the Hot Summer Nights, Third Collection, to be released on July 7th. Twenty-two authors with some smokin’ hot romances to heat up your summer nights. Pre-order your copy here: Pre-Order. Please note that Hot Summer Nights cannot be claimed as the giveaway prize.

ABOUT LYNDA

Lynda has no doubt she’s a born storyteller.

She remembers her first “story” when she informed her kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Downing, that her mom had just had a baby boy. Her mother hadn’t, of course, and while Lynda got thoroughly admonished for her “storytelling,” she wasn’t deterred from what would become a lifelong passion.

From made-up tales centering around her favorite TV shows as a kid to today, Lynda love telling stories! Stories with handsome guys and spunky gals, that always…always end with a happily-ever-after.

Her romances are full of passion, with heat levels that range from hot to sizzling! She’d been a finalist in numerous writing contests, including RWA’s® prestigious Golden Heart® in 2010. Please join her for laughter, love and that all important HEA.

Lynda live in Reno, NV with her electrician husband of thirty (and counting) years and our two pampered pooches. Feel free to visit her at www.lyndabailey.net. Or drop her an email at lynda@lyndabailey.net

STALKER LINKS
Website
Facebook
Twitter
Goodreads

UPDATE: The winner of this contest is…Debbie Watson!

* * * * *

Stories where a woman is torn between two lovers are so powerful. There’s a built in angst. You know someone’s going to be hurt, or maybe even all of them in the process. I suppose that’s why I love writing menage stories—in the end, the heroine doesn’t have to choose just one, and miraculously, the men love her enough to be willing to share. That’s the ultimate fantasy, don’t you think?

But let’s get back to those angsty triangles. I think my favorite is Sabrina—not the 1995 version, starring Harrison Ford, Greg Kinnear and Julia Ormond—but the lovely, 1954 version with Humphrey Bogart, William Holden, and Audrey Hepburn… Yummy!

What are your favorite Lover’s Triangle stories, in movies or books?

Comment for a chance to win Reined In or a short story on this carousel!

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Who says a cowgirl can’t have it all?

Lone Star Lovers, Book 7

Stormy is a rancher’s daughter through and through, and although she went away to college, her soul is firmly rooted in home ground—and the cowboys she grew up tormenting. When she hears her father might be selling the ranch, she packs her bags and high tails it for home, terrified she might never get another chance to lasso the heart of one of her cowboys before the hands scatter to the four winds.

For Cam and Joe, foreman and wrangler on the ranch, Stormy was a pain in the seat of their Wranglers. But when she roars back onto the ranch, the spoiled brat they remember emerges from the cloud of dust in skin-tight jeans and spike heels and all grown up.

It only takes a hot second to figure out she’s hell-bent on seduction. But if she thinks they’re going to make it easy for her to pick which cowboy she wants most, she’s sadly mistaken. And who says she has to choose one?

Warning: Contains cowboy-style spanking, flogging, and hog-tying. And a cowgirl who loves every minute of it.

The little red Miata ground to a halt, kicking up caliche to pepper the porch’s underskirting like shrapnel.

Joe Halloran suppressed a grin and tipped up the cowboy hat riding low over his brow with a lazy finger. Minutes ago, when the sound of an engine had screamed down the long private drive, he’d groaned because this was his first break of the day and he really wasn’t up for company. But as soon as he’d seen who it was, he settled deeper into his rocking chair.

Trouble had arrived. And about damn time.

Without moving from his chair, he slid his boots inches to the left on the porch railing to get a better view as the driver ground the gearshift into park. Joe glanced to the side. “What the hell do you suppose she’s doin’ here, Cam?”

Seated beside him, his buddy grunted from beneath the hat he had dipped low enough to shade his entire face. “Not a clue. Suppose her old man let somethin’ slip?”

Joe gave a snort, lowered his brim again and settled deeper into his chair, ready to play. What had been the end of a hellacious day of work had suddenly taken a mighty interesting turn.

A car door slammed. Between the porch slats, he watched a pair of long legs scissor with brisk precision. High heels tapped on the steps.

Still, he didn’t give a single indication he’d heard her. Instead, he took a deep breath and scratched his bare chest.

A fingernail dug into his forearm. “Hey, cowboy.”

He muttered but didn’t move a muscle. She knew his damn name.

She poked him again with her nail. “Cowboy, wake up.”

The hint of irritation in her silky voice gratified him in a way that didn’t bear too much introspection. He leaned back his head and squinted at her. “Peaches,” he exclaimed, a grin stretching his mouth. “Long time, no see.”

Stormy Jordan narrowed her gaze into a mean glare. Yeah, she hated the nickname because she knew he’d given it to her based on the shape of her pretty little ass. To make matters worse, the name had stuck like glue when her daddy had begun calling her it too. Funny, she’d never told him why she detested it so much.

“Cowboy,” she said, her voice dripping with syrup. “How ’bout you move your butt and go get my bags?”

Again, he tipped his hat up to stare into a pair of silvery-blue eyes that cut him like a Ginsu knife. “You talkin’ to me, ma’am?” he asked, being deliberately slow because he knew it irked the hell out of her.

She lowered her pale brows over that cold stare. “Well, who the hell else would I be talkin’ to? My bags? I’d like to take a shower. I’ve been on the road since dawn.”

Still, he didn’t move. He let his gaze slide over her curves, taking a detour downward then back up. When his gaze reached her reddening face again, one side of his mouth twitched. He could almost hear the steam hissing.

She tapped a toe impatiently. “Since you don’t have anything better to do…”

Joe cut a glance at his buddy.

Cam’s lips tightened, but he settled deeper in his seat, resetting his hat to shade his eyes—giving Joe his silent approval to do his thing.

Hiding a grin, Joe bolted forward in his chair, rising so swiftly she didn’t have a chance to move back. “Sure thing, ma’am,” he said, crowding her against the rail. “I’ll get on it right away, ma’am.” Only he made another slow perusal of her body to make sure she knew he was talking about more than her damn suitcases.

She cleared her throat and sidestepped him. “Cowboy, don’t get ’em dirty.”

“Now, sweetheart, that would be a cryin’ damn shame.”

Cameron Mitchell hid a smile as Stormy stomped to the far side of the porch and Joe ambled down the steps to her car. Those two had always been at each other’s throats. Watching them spar was more exciting than any UFC fight and far bloodier.

Still, as much as they poked and prodded at each other, he’d never seen either of them back away. And Stormy always came back for more, so he assumed she liked it.

Cam and Stormy’s interactions were quieter, but no less intense. The woman had a way of setting a man’s libido on fire even while she did her best to make him feel two feet tall or like he had two left feet. It was a talent. One that had kept the boys flocking all over this very porch when she’d been in high school. Which had kept Joe mean and edgy, because he’d wanted her even back then when she was still jailbait.

The years hadn’t dulled the edges of her attraction. Sun-streaked blonde hair was held up in a clip, exposing her delicate neck and ears. Her black, button-down blouse was two sizes too small, emphasizing the swell of her B-cup breasts and revealing the sliver of bare skin between the shirt and the top of her short, fanny-hugging black skirt. That hint of firm belly was enough to make Cam hard enough to hammer a nail.

He recrossed his legs and interlaced his fingers to let them rest above the swell of his cock. If she looked close enough, she’d know how she affected him. Even after all this time.

Maybe it was wrong, but he’d lusted after Stormy Jordan since she’d sprouted breasts and learned to wag her bottom like a siren. He and Joe had come to the Jordan family ranch when they were in high school, looking for part-time work as wranglers, thinking cowboy work couldn’t be that hard. Hell, girls dug a man in chaps and a hat. They’d stayed long after graduation because of their love for the ranch…and maybe, their enduring attraction to a certain wild filly.

Both he and Joe had been objects of her youthful attempts at flirting, and out of respect for her daddy, they’d deflected her. But seven years ago, he’d had enough of dreaming about her and made the mistake of surprising Stormy with a kiss. He could still remember the softness of her lush mouth, the way her curves had fit against him. Something he’d never told Joe about and never would.

The kiss hadn’t meant a thing to Stormy. She’d probably only been experimenting and forgotten about it long ago. But he hadn’t. And sometimes late at night, he pulled out that memory when he needed release. Her face, that mouth, had inspired many a late-night fantasy. However, he knew she wasn’t for him. Stormy Jordan was destined to be some rich man’s trophy, not some cowboy’s girl.

Joe popped the trunk and walked around to the rear of her car. Two cases, both leather and with a designer logo stamped all over the hide, lay inside. He picked up the first and set it on the ground beside him, then hefted the second, larger case. Footsteps clicked down the steps, but he didn’t glance around the open trunk. He placed the large case on the gravel road and slammed down the trunk.

He bent to pick it up, but it slid to the side, landing hard. Dust billowed up and laid a fine powder over the burnished leather. He wrapped his fingers around the handle, but before he lifted the case to stand it up, a foot landed on the back of his hand, the heel grinding.

Joe pursed his lips and aimed a glare at the woman whose features were set, her eyes alert. “Better lift that shoe, sweetheart, or more than your suitcase is gonna be sittin’ in the dirt.”

“I told you to be careful,” she said softly.

“Darlin’, sometimes I can be,” he murmured slyly. “But I think this thing needs a firmer hand.” Without thinking of any consequences, only of his need to test her resolve, he let go of the case and twisted his wrist to grab her ankle. Then he slowly slid his hand up her calf and over her knee.

Her soft skin felt like silk. The temptation was too strong to resist. She didn’t pull away. Didn’t gasp or flinch. Joe kept on going, his hand rising up her inner thigh. When he was inches from feminine heat, she called him on his bluff and reached down to shove his hand away. “Think you can handle it from here, cowboy?” she said, her voice sounding strained.

Joe drew in a long slow breath, inhaling her spicy scent. “Why don’t you just wait and see?” He lifted the bag, reached for the smaller one and turned on his heel.

Behind him, he heard the crunch of her heels. He lifted his gaze to Cam’s and arched a brow. What the hell had just happened? He’d almost felt her up right there with an audience.

Cam’s expression was neutral, and he glanced away.

Joe’s cheeks warmed as he trudged up the steps, Stormy right behind him.

They had Stormy to themselves. Was she aware they’d be the only ones in the house for the weekend? His mind spun with the possibilities. Possibilities that didn’t have to leave Cam in the dust—if he was willing to play along. But mostly Joe thought about how soft her skin had felt beneath the scrape of his callused palm, and the little quiver he’d detected right before she’d snatched away the prize.

He had years of Stormy fantasies stored away. A whole damn menu of acts he wanted to perform—some not legal in most southern states. If she gave him even the slightest hint she was interested, he wasn’t going to let a little thing like the fact she was daddy’s little girl get in the way. Not this time. Not when Stormy’s daddy had all but given him his approval to do whatever it took to make sure Stormy figured out what she really wanted…or who.

You’ve heard the term “gone country.” You’ve probably even heard the Alan Jackson song. This is what happens when city people fall in love with country living—backroads, crickets chirpin’, sweet tea on the porch swing living.

Recently I took a road trip, 2 days away from my family. No baseball, softball, dance, field trips, groomer’s visits. Just me, my piece of crap SUV and a prayer that I made it south without using my AAA card. I loved the drive through southern Pennsylvania (I live north) and found the lush greenery very inspiring. Then I hit the city.

At first, it was fun to see all the commerce and navigate the busy highways. I shopped in an actual mall that doesn’t only boast a shoe store, pharmacy and a Big K. I drank honest to goodness iced coffee that I didn’t make at home because there isn’t a Starbucks or a Dunkins within 2 hours.

Then I drove around for hours, just filling my little country soul with experience. This includes driving experience. I can avoid a deer running full-tilt across a dirt road, but jumping five lanes is scary as hell. But I did it!

All of these moments are everyday for a lot of people, but not me. And it wasn’t long before the charm wore off. Pretty soon I was hoping to see that deer. Or miles of open road. No car horns or long lines at checkouts.

I missed my world. I’d gone city and wanted my country back! (insert ugly cry) So I texted my hubby and said I wanted to come home. His response? LOL then come home. He’d taken the kids fishing and rock climbing. He was grilling chicken and they were planning a bonfire with s’mores.

So how could I resist? I packed up and set out for home after just one night. From my trip I learned that I’m a country girl at heart. Visiting the city had given me a new take on the dull things I take for granted. Now that I’m refreshed and inspired by my home settings again, I’m in the mood to write more cowboys and hardworking men.

Here’s one example. Meet Ty, hot cowboy on the Boot Knockers Ranch. If you don’t know this series, you’re in for a ride. This ain’t your daddy’s ranch…

It’ll take more than ropes and whips for this cowboy to keep his bratty woman in line.

The Boot Knockers Ranch, Book 4

At twenty-three, Bree Roberts is ready to sow some wild oats. The perfect place to start? The neighboring spread—The Boot Knockers Ranch, where twenty smokin’ hot cowboys deliver sexual therapy to women. The problem? The entry fee is more than she’s made in a lifetime.

Only wanting to explore, she figures her tanned, toned legs will be her ticket to ride. Except Ty keeps kicking her off their land. Then she begins to suspect the reason why. He likes her.

If Ty spots that little vixen wrapped around one of his cowboys one more time, he’s going to throw her over his knee. Trouble is, she’d like it. Catching her participating in the ranch’s notorious, semi-clad Cornhole tournament is one thing, but when he finds her under their resident Dom’s whip, enough is enough.

Ty won’t throw a naked woman out of his bed, namely one who deserves a spanking, but showing Bree the rewards of sex mixed with a little emotion leads to trails neither of them intended to tread.

Warning: Contains a spitfire cowgirl who excels at breaking the rules, and a cowboy who lays down the law—and a firm hand on her ass cheek.

Excerpt of Ropin’ Hearts

Ty started dragging her away. She dug in her bootheels.

“If you don’t walk away with me normal, I’ll pick you up and throw you over my shoulder, Miss Roberts.”

Ice filled her veins. He knew her. How? Was there a wanted poster on the wall somewhere? This man saw dozens of women a week—surely he wouldn’t remember her face after visiting her ranch.

“Let go of me!”

“I don’t think so, sugar tits. You’re trespassing. Wonder what Daddy would think of you down here getting corrupted.” Read the rest of this entry »

UPDATE: The winner of the free download is Heather S!

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The other night I was at a Facebook party and I asked the question that went something like, “What are your favorite reunion stories, either in film or book?” And then I sat stumped because I couldn’t think of one. I had to think hard whether I had ever written one, and I mentioned one of my Lone Star Lovers books, Unforgiven. But it wasn’t until this morning, when I was trying to figure out what golden oldie I could offer as a flashback, that I remembered I had another…

So, I’ll ask again… What are your favorite reunion stories?

Comment for a chance to win In Too Deep or a short story on this carousel!

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Some things never change. And some things change everything.

Triple Horn Brand, Book 2

Gabe Triplehorn can think of no better getaway from his heavy responsibilities at the ranch, than to go back to a time and place where he didn’t have a care in the world. When there was just a campground, a river and a girl.

When he gets to Red Hawk Landing, the campground and the river are still there. He just never expected the girl would still be there too. Only now she runs the place.

Lena Twohig can think of no better place to raise her young son than the family-owned campground that holds so many memories. Especially the romance with Gabe that lit up one long-ago summer like a wild electrical storm. Now he’s back, with a ranch-hardened body she knows she shouldn’t want so badly.

No amount of lies or the years that have passed can tame this tidal wave of passion.

Warning: Contains a flash flood of passion between a cowboy who knows how to pitch a tent and a woman who isn’t afraid to get a little dirty.

Excerpt:

The cowboy glanced back through the window and caught her looking. Lena whirled around and stepped off the porch. Her toe caught in the lattice next to the step and she went down hard, bumping down two steps. She landed on one hip, gravel digging into a palm.

Tears pricked her eyes, and she winced at the pain. Worse, the door behind her slammed and heavy booted footsteps stomped down the steps.

When the handsome cowboy came down on a knee beside her, Lena wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

The deep timbre of his voice did a number on her nerves. She shivered.

Something he must have taken for shock, because before she knew it, his hands were under her thighs and behind her back and he lifted her high against his chest.

“Put me down!”

“I will. Soon as I get you inside.”

“I’m too heavy for you to carry.”

“Darlin’ there’s some meat on your bones but not anything I can’t handle.” Read the rest of this entry »