Hi, Readers! We’ll be chatting today about one of my favorite subjects: romance. I’m betting at least a few of you will be able to relate.
Sometimes I think we read romance to fall in love with *love*. Know what I mean?
When we’ve had a hard day, a spat with our partner, a tough time with the kids, or added stress at the day job, escaping into a story can be just the thing we need. Watching the hero and heroine deal with life’s troubles, large or small, gives us hope we can overcome our problems, too. And seeing them work their way to a happy ever after reinforces the power of love.
Sometimes, I think we also read romance to fall in love with the *hero*. At least, I know I do!
For me, that usually means a cowboy because, hey, what’s not to like about a down-to-earth, rugged rancher in form-fitting jeans? LOL But if you’re not that into cowboys, feel free to substitute the hunk hero of your choice.
Whether the guy’s a cowboy or cop, doctor, baseball player, or rich playboy, he’ll be easy to love if he’s an all-star kisser who turns us inside-out with one long, soulful glance from his smoldering eyes.
Easy for *us* to love, that is. The heroine…not so much.
The heroine can’t just give in and fall for our hero. She’s got to face the fire because *we* need to be kept guessing. And, like us, she’s got to solve those large and small life problems before she arrives at her happy ending…before she seals the deal with a kiss from her [insert hero of your choice]. : )
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Here’s a quick peek at the hero and heroine from A Rancher of Her Own, which releases next week. Pete and Jane haven’t spoken to each other in years, but their mutual antagonism flares to life the first time they meet again:
“That was my first full-time job,” he told her. “I was trying to make an impression.”
“Oh, you did that, all right. I’m glad you didn’t say ‘a good impression,’ because you didn’t come close to one. I don’t like men—people—who think they can order others around. And you definitely had a case of that back then.”
“I was in charge of the horses—”
“Under my grandpa’s direction.”
“—and watching out for them was part of my job.”
“He’s given you another job now, too, so he tells me.”
“Yeah. Playing nursemaid.”
“Thanks, old man,” she shot back, “but I don’t need that kind of help. An assistant is more like it. What’s the matter? Is the job beneath you?” She shrugged. “If you don’t like the idea, I won’t have a problem getting someone else.”
He’d bet she wouldn’t. As long as she managed to keep that smart yet sexy mouth of hers shut, any of his boys would be happy to assist her. He wouldn’t.
But turning down his boss’s order wasn’t an option.
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I’m happy to chat.
Also, I’m giving away an autographed print copy of one of my available backlist titles (US mailing addresses only, please). To get your name in the hat, tell us: when you read romance, what type of conflict do you like best and why?
You have till Friday! Winner’s name will be posted this weekend.
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Barbara White Daille lives with her husband in the sunny Southwest. Though they love the warm winters and the lizards in their front yard, they haven’t gotten used to the scorpions in the bathroom.
Barbara’s new series, The Hitching Post Hotel, features a matchmaking grandpa determined to see his three granddaughters wed. The series began in April 2015 with The Cowboy’s Little Surprise and continues with A Rancher of Her Own in July and The Lawman’s Christmas Proposal in December.
Ranch manager Pete Brannigan has no interest in playing tour guide to a city slicker like Jane Garland. But spending a few days with the headstrong photographer is a small price to pay for everything her grandfather has given the single dad. Though Pete’s drawn to Jane’s sharp wit and striking beauty, he won’t hurt his young children by falling for another woman who puts her career before family.
Jane’s seen the world through her camera…and used it to shield her emotions. With Pete, she can finally let her guard down. If only he could do the same. Despite their powerful bond, Pete still can’t trust Jane with his kids or his heart. But if he keeps pushing her away, he may ruin any chance their relationship has to develop.
I’ve fallen behind on updating my website. I can’t keep up with all the new words I have to write and the new books I have to let you know about. But I wanted to take time today to tell you about the Night Fall series and what I plan for the future. But first, aren’t the covers purty? Thank you, sis! If you don’t already have these stories, be sure to click on the covers and go check them out!
If you didn’t know, the Night Fall stories were previously published by Ellora’s Cave, but I now have the rights back to the majority of them. And since I wrote them a crap-ton of years ago, they needed some sprucing up, so I’ve been working on getting them thoroughly revised, and where needed, expanded. My plan is to release one story a month until I have all the old stories out there for you to enjoy. These are my tentative titles following my latest release, Truly, Madly…Deadly.
Knight in Transition (Joe’s story, and we meet our first wolves) Wolf in Plain Sight (Another SU team member’s story–not sayin’ in case you don’t already know!) The Knight Edition (Navarro’s story) Night Fall on Dark Mountain (Meet a whole community of wolves!)
And that’s the end of the refurbed titles. Then I’ll start releasing new stories, not monthly because I do have other stories and series I want to write, but at a minimum, quarterly.
And I have so many places to go! I need to write Viper’s story. I could branch off and write about my my wolves. Then there are the older vampires—Magnus being the first I wrote about in Silent is the Knight. Do I write about them in the present, or should I do a whole little First Knight series and set it in the distant past?
Today, if you’ll chime in and let me know what you’d love to see,you’ll be entered to win your choice ofSm{B}ittenorSilent is the Knight! And I’ll choose 3 winners!
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.
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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.
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!
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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!!!
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)
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Need something to wet your whistle?
May I suggest a delicious bite out of the Members Only series…….. 😛
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.
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 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
UPDATE: The winner of this contest is…Debbie Watson!
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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.
Also, I’m giving away an autographed print copy of one of my available backlist titles (US mailing addresses only, please). To get your name in the hat, tell us: when you read romance, what type of conflict do you like best and why? 
Author Bio:
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.
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.
