I’m so delighted to be back at Delilah’s and grateful to have the opportunity to share my latest historical romance, His Captive Princess. Growing up, one of my favorite legendary heroes was King Arthur, so when the movie Excalibur came out, I loved everything about the film–from the noble Knights of the Round Table, to the shiny armor, sexy Sir Lancelot, and the dark mysticism of the wizards Merlin and Morgana.
As long as I can remember I’ve been drawn to anything medieval, so when I learned that most castles were located in Wales, I had to find out more about the country. Turns out, Wales also has lots of legends and myths. I eventually discovered the true story of Gwenllian, a brave medieval Welsh princess who fought the Normans herself, and then I knew I had a story to write! My bow and arrow-wielding heroine Princess Eleri is based on Gwenllian.
As the title of the book hints—His Captive Princess—our brave lady has met her match in the charming enemy, Warren de Tracy.
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Leave a comment below telling me who’s your favorite hero or historical character.
Earned respect is sweet…but deserved revenge is sweeter.
Warren de Tracy was assured the Welsh village of Dinefwr would be an easy conquest, as would the widow of its fallen prince. Wedding her will appease the locals and win the respect of his liege, the usurper King Stephen.
Instead, Warren is ambushed, taken prisoner by a hooded Welshwoman with skin that glows like moonlight. If he must die at her hands, at least his honorable death will silence the whispers of disloyalty hanging over his name.
Princess Eleri has never seen a knight as stoic—and as eager to die—as Warren. She’d love to oblige the bastard, but something in his ocean-blue eyes stays her hand. Plus, suspicion nags at her, for the arrows that wounded him and killed his men are Norman, not Welsh.
A ghostly prophecy portends danger that thrusts the enemies closer together, where hate explodes into passion that won’t allow Eleri to surrender Warren to her vengeful clan. But returning him to his king breaks more than it mends…and for Warren, retaliation will be sweet, indeed.
Product Warnings: Contains a Norman warrior with a thirst for justice, a Welsh rebel princess with second sight and a steady bow hand, magical prophecies, and a plot of royal proportions.
Excerpt:
“‘Your Highness’?” Warren jerked in astonishment, pulling against his bonds. The ropes chafed his raw skin, sending a fresh wave of pain down his arms. “You’re of royal blood?”
She leaned over him, reaching for his bonds. “Hush! In addition to your arrow wound, I trow your tongue has healed as well these past days. It would behoove you to use it less and just be grateful you’re alive.”
Her breasts hovered inches above his face. In fact, if he lifted his head, he could bury his face between them. What would she do, this spirited wench, if he chose to do so? He would’ve enjoyed finding out if circumstances had been different. “I’d rather be dead than be a prisoner. But first…I’ll kiss your feet if you’d scratch my nose.”
She made a choking noise in her throat that almost sounded like amusement.
He felt a tug at his ropes and the friction of a knife. By the saints, she was freeing him. He couldn’t allow it.
Air stung his raw skin as soon as one of his wrists came loose. With his one arm still useless in its restraints, he shot out his free hand and clutched her forearm. Using all his strength, he turned her over beneath him, wedging her between his torso and the bed. Nose to nose, he could make out her eyes gone wide with shock in the darkness. “No!” he growled. “Do not let me leave here alive.”
Suddenly, her warrior was upon him and his knife back against Warren’s throat. “Get off the princess, you cur!”
The woman’s blade touched his chest plate. She could dispatch him with ease. Her arms were strong and lean. Her body was far from frail, and he recalled her skillful defeat of his conroi. She twisted beneath his pelvis defensively, and the grinding of her soft mound awoke his sex. Shame heated his cheeks at his sudden need and dark desires. This one time, he would allow himself to speak his mind. “If you release me, Princess, I’ll go to Kidwelly and inform my commanders what has befallen my five men at the hands of you and your people. The king will strike at the subjects of Cantref Mawr with vengeance such as you’ve never known.”
Her expression shifted from stark panic to slow derision as her saucy lips curved up at one corner. “You think I don’t know what you’re capable of?” Her eyes flashed downward meaningfully, and he knew she’d noted the turn of his wicked thoughts. “You want to have your way with me. To tear my clothing from my body and part my legs. But you know nothing of my people, Norman. You haven’t even bothered to learn the language—” she broke off, slurring in Welsh at her vassal.
The burly guard grabbed Warren’s bandaged shoulder, twisting it back until bile climbed in his throat. “Umpff!” While he convulsed in pain, the woman slipped loose and turned him on his back, pinning his groin beneath two very sharp knees. He hissed through his teeth, “Par les saints!”
If he’d been successful in his mission, this devil-wench would’ve been his bride?
“You are my prisoner, knight.” She planted the flat of her hand against his neck, leaving no doubt of her desire for domination as her angry pulse drummed against his skin. “I am the Princess of Deheubarth, widow of Prince Owain ap Daffyd, murdered by your Norman peers. It will be my pleasure keeping you alive. We’re taking you to those who will do with you what they will. I care not. Until then, you are my dog. My captive. My slave. And you will obey!”
Sandra proudly considers herself a history geek. She is the author of five historical romances including the new RiverRogues series set in frontier America. When not researching or writing, she enjoys traveling, genealogy (she’s the direct descendant of a Norman knight) and watching British TV. She and her husband of twenty-five years live in a cabin on the river with two spoiled cats.
She also loves chatting with readers. You can connect with Sandra at any of the following links:
I love reading and writing BDSM stories. I find a sexy alpha male taking control in the bedroom to be hot, hot, hot and I find this kind of relationship working its way into most of my stories in one way or another! Sometimes the heroine is even pushing the hero to step up and take control when he is trying to resist his dominant urges. 🙂
Mostly, I explore the Dom/sub relationship, where one character gives up control to another. What I’m interested in exploring is the exchange of power between the characters. On the surface, it seems that the submissive is giving up control to the Dominant, but during the course of the story, the sub discovers her own power in the relationship.
Usually in my stories, this giving up control is a new thing for the heroine, so I take my readers through the journey of discovery with her, because the heroine is experiencing these things for the first time. In the process, she discovers something important about herself.
When I started exploring this aspect of sexuality in my writing, I wondered, given how long and hard we’ve worked for equality between the sexes, why a woman would give over control to a man. Generally, women have a natural attraction to strong, dominant men. This makes sense in a primitive setting where we want someone strong, skilled, and confident to go out and hunt for food, to protect us and the family. Things may have changed, and we can take care of ourselves, but that primitive instinct is still there. In fact, in our current society, where women have a great deal of power, sometimes in the bedroom, giving control over to someone else—someone we trust—is exactly what we want. The key is that it’s a choice.
As an author, I need to understand what purpose these elements play in the character growth and in the story. Is it just a fun element being added to a sex scene or two to make for more interesting sex, or is it fundamental to the story being told? In my stories, I use the D/s relationship to push the characters’ issues and cause them to grow, so these elements are fundamental to the story and the character growth.
I want to point out that in this exchange of power, it looks like the Dominant has all the power, but in fact, he is responsible for satisfying both their needs, so he must know his partner very well, and be able to read how she is reacting to what they’re playing out. He must be constantly alert and aware of her needs and desires. How sexy is that! 🙂 Also, the sub has the power to end what is going on at any time.
Here are some examples of how I use D/s in my stories:
His To Command – by giving up control to Matt, both physically and emotionally, Kate learns to give up control in her life so she can take risks (i.e. not play it too safe) and stop limiting herself.
His To Claim – Rafe Ranier is the younger of two billionaire brothers, but Rafe was abused by his father because he didn’t feel Rafe was good enough. Rafe feels the desire to dominate Melanie in the bedroom, and she wants him to, but he resists, struggling with his fear that he will be abusive, just like his father was.
Riding Steele – in this book, I explored the negative aspect of D/s as well as the positive. At the beginning of the book, Laurie is in a relationship with a billionaire Dominant, but I turn it around from the usual sexy rich Dom by having this be an abusive relationship. She tries to break it off with him and things turn violent, and she’s rescued by a tattooed biker. She then finds herself under the protection of Steele, the leader of the biker gang. She is now extremely distrustful of dominant men, and she believes this biker is a dangerous man. When she finds herself falling in love with him, and longing to be dominated by him, it becomes clear that in order to find her happily-ever-after, she needs to come to terms with her desire to give over control to someone, realize it’s not a weakness, and overcome her issues about trust.
In my stories, I typically have the hero (or several heroes) as the dominant, but occasionally I like a female Domme. What about you? Do you enjoy a female Domme, or do you prefer the hero to be in control? Everyone who comments will be entered in a draw to win a copy of “The Office Slave series, Book 1 & 2” collection.
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Played by the Master
(available exclusively in the Mastered 2 boxed set)
Opal’s new story, Played by the Master, is initially being released as part of the Mastered 2 boxed set coming out tomorrow (April 21).
Jacqueline Bell desperately wants to help her sister out of a jam. But to do that, she has to find a way to talk to billionaire entrepreneur Race Danner, and have him drop the charges against her brother-in-law. She discovers he holds an exclusive poker game once a week and finds a way in.
Race Danner is bored with his life, despite his wealth and extreme hobbies. He doesn’t know exactly what he’s looking for, but he’ll know it when he sees it.
When Jacqueline Bell walks into his life, he knows she’s it. She wants something from him. And he wants her. A combination made in heaven. In a delicious game of cat and mouse, he will leverage his advantage to lure her into his game. And he fully intends to win.
Warning: This story has Domination, submission, bondage, punishment, and a lot of other fun things, plus explicit, wild sexual encounters. After all, if you’re going to play, play hard! 😉
Excerpt:
He smiled and at the predatory look in his eyes, Jacquie realized he was going to win. The blood drained from her face as he flipped over his cards… revealing a full house.
Oh, God, she’d lost her opportunity to try and convince him to help her brother.
“Come over here.” His silken voice curled through her and she stood up.
Now he would touch her… probably cup her ass with his big hand. Maybe, if she seemed willing…who was she kidding, she was willing… to succumb to his touch, then maybe he would listen to her after all.
Shock vaulted through her at her own illicit thoughts. She wasn’t going to sleep with him to help her brother.
No, just strip down to practically nothing. Then let him touch her.
For the first time in forever, I’m going to Little Rock for a Diamond State Romance Authors meeting! I swear it’s probably been a year and a half since I attended. Hope I recognize some folks… My sister Elle James is speaking, so I’m going for moral support and because she’s making me go. 🙂
Post a comment today, and you’ll be entered to win a free download from either my Lone Star Lovers series or my Triple Horn Brand series! Here’s the question…
Churches have crosses and steeples, governments buildings have flag poles… What might you like to put on your roof to set it apart from everyone else’s?
What would I put on my roof… A giant book? The head of a hellhound? How about a weather vane with a witch riding a broom? Have fun with your answer!
And in case you didn’t know, I do have a sexy, new story out there right now…
Two construction workers come to the aid of one woman looking for a last taste of freedom…
Note: This 6000-word short story was previously published in Penthouse Magazine and Suite Encounters: Hotel Sex Stories, and has been revised and expanded. It may be short in length, but it’s not short in passion!
When the blare of a TV sounded from outside, I had third and fourth thoughts about my decision to stop here for the night. What the hell? Why had someone moved their television set outside rather than watch in the seclusion of their room where the sound would be somewhat muffled?
I gritted my teeth, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and reached for shorts and a tee, slipping them over my nude body and the keys into my pocket before I stomped to the door and flung it open.
Not that the two men sitting on the truck noticed me—at first.
Under the single flood light that illuminated the parking lot, I noted the construction company logo on the side of the pickup backed up to the door of the room beside mine. Then I eyed the large men seated on the sides of the truck bed, their shirts gone, faded jeans stretched over thick thighs. Their attention was glued to the basketball game, blaring from the small screen of the TV they had set in the bed of the truck on top of a white ice chest. They held Budweisers in their grips.
At last, one of the men’s heads turned. He spotted me then whistled at his friend. Soon both their gazes peered down.
I felt foolish standing in my bare feet with my wet hair spiked around my head. Why hadn’t I simply put a pillow over my head to muffle their noise? But I was testy. Moody. I’d lost my job, had a blow-up with my boyfriend over the fact I wouldn’t be splitting rent with him for a while, and cut my nose off to spite my own face by breaking up with him. Homeless now, I had no options. Grandma’s in Little Rock was my last resort.
Tonight would be my last night of freedom before I moved under her roof and abided by her rules. She’d pay the bills—if I knuckled under and went back to school. Something I resented after being on my own for a couple of years, living by my rules.
Which might have been exactly why I remained rooted to that spot. The men seated on the truck would never meet Grandma’s high standards.
Sweat gleamed on their naked chests and both of them were thickly muscled and a little dirty—as though they’d come straight from work without the benefit of a shower.
The shine only served to emphasize the depth of the musculature and their starkly masculine features. Their tanned skin stretched across cheeks and jaws that were sharpened to rough edges by hard work.
Both their gazes homed on me, and while I knew the smart thing would have been to retreat without a word to my room and relock the door, I tilted my chin and thrust out my chest. “Can’t you watch the game in your room?”
“We botherin’ you, sweetheart?” the one closest to me said, sliding off the truck to land in front of me.
I peered a long way up and frowned into the face tilted my way. We stood close enough I could see the bristles of his evening shadow. He wore a ball cap that shadowed his eyes, but glints of blond hair shone beneath it. “It’s late. I was trying to sleep.”
“It’s not that late,” he drawled. “Join us for a beer?”
I glanced behind him and noted the grin on his buddy’s face. He was bare-headed with shaggy brown hair and a devilish quirk to his firm lips. The game seemed to have lost its fascination. Their gazes drank me down like I was long cool drink.
I barely resisted the urge to jut my hip and twirl my hair.
“Bobby, the night clerk, can vouch for us if you’re wonderin’ whether we’re safe,” the one beside me said, amusement lingering in his husky voice.
I shouldn’t have been tempted. However, my body still hummed pleasurably from the heat I’d drawn with my own lazy fingers. Even sweaty, the two men were tempting. Both young, in good shape. Both interested if their sharpening gazes were any indication.
And what the hell? It wasn’t as if I had anyone to answer to. Not at this moment. There was no boyfriend to betray.
My mouth went dry and I swallowed. “Is the beer cold?”
*~*~*~*~*
If you’d like to check out more of my recent short story releases…
Raise your hand if you heard Julie Andrews singing that line. *raises hand proudly*
As I was brainstorming possible blog topics, my mind took off in about forty directions. The part that came back into focus was singing that song so, I figured I’d go with it.
In no particular order, here are few of mine:
Chocolate chip cookies (without nuts).
Saturday afternoons with no plans and nothing pressing on my to-do list so I can read or write or make jewelry to my heart’s content.
The feel of a fresh, warm breeze blowing on my face while the sun shines down on me.
I just love pretty new colors on my toes.
Holding my sweetie’s hand.
The smell of the original Baby Magic soap on a freshly washed baby.
Getting the email from an editor or publisher saying “We love your manuscript and want to publish it!”
Being presented flowers gathered from the yard by one of my kids.
The smell of summer rain.
Having the kids greet me with enthusiasm when I get home from work or when I pick them up. “Hi, Mommie” or “Momma!” is just the best. Shoot – even the dog greeting me at the door with a toy in her mouth and her tail wagging makes me smile.
Getting a phone call or text from that special someone, for no reason at all. Just because they were thinking of me. HI!
The sound of falling snow after the ground is covered. Yes, there is a sound. If you haven’t heard it, when winter rolls around again, listen for it. The still of the night is the best time to hear it.
I could keep going on, but I want to hear from you. What are a few of your favorite things? Things that make you smile just thinking about them? Everyone who leaves a comment will be included in a drawing for an ebook copy of any of my backlist books (Risky Business, Cherie’s Silk, Working It All Out, Mystic’s Touch, Ghostly Persuasion or Loss of Control).
Be sure you check out my new release, Your Wild Heart.
Wildlife biologist, Isabelle Acker, meets sexy park ranger, Wyatt Powell. His Wolf sits up and takes notice of her, but when he learns why she came to the park, he becomes wary of her intentions. After all, as far as the general population knows, there are no wolves in the Black Hills.
Ordered by his Alpha to keep an eye on the smoking-hot biologist, Wyatt finds it difficult to keep his hands to himself. He wants to possess her, to share everything about his life, but that might endanger the Tao Pack. But the attraction proves too great and, unable to deny his Wolf, he takes her with a passion he didn’t know he possessed.
However, their sexual bliss is short-lived, and on the night of the full moon, more than one secret is revealed. When all is said and done, they must each decide—is what they have between them true love or just hot sex?
Dena Garson is a Process Redesign Specialist by day and a writer and jewelry designer by night. She is raising two rowdy boys who play lots of sports which forces her to spend way too much time on the practice field and/or sidelines. Thankfully she has a loyal and loving Labrador Retriever to listen when she complains and a spoiled cat who reminds her daily she is merely a servant.
Hi, again! I recently did a guest post about 5 reasons to get a tattoo. Why? Because I love biker romances and one of the things I love about bikers is their hot, sexy tattoos!
And, of course, I love writing about bikers! Why? Here are my nine top reasons.
1. Domination
I love writing stories where a strong alpha male takes control of a woman and a rough, tough, leather clad bad-boy biker is as alpha and dominant as they come!
“You’re mine now. I’ll do whatever I want to you, and you’ll do whatever I tell you. Now and while we ride together.
(From Wild Ride.)
2. A sense of danger
These bad-boys are big, rough and intimidating. I love the breathless excitement the heroine experiences when he takes control
In a sudden movement, she felt herself pushed back against the building. Her breath caught as his big, solid body crushed her tight to the cold brick wall.
Oh, God, had she made a mistake? He was so big and intimidating, and right now, he looked determined and… almost feral. He pivoted his hips forward and she could feel a hard bulge against her stomach, proof that he was aroused by her. Anxiety spiked through her, and a little fear, but right alongside those feelings was a wild surge of excitement.
He grabbed her wrists and pushed them over her head, then held them tight, his striking midnight eyes locked on hers. She could feel the erratic pounding of her blood pumping through her veins.
She had never felt so alive.
God, she wanted him to take her. Right here. Right now.
(From Hot Ride.)
3. Attitude and sheer sex appeal
These men have a cocky, bad-boy attitude and love to shock. In Hard Ride, I love it when Shock says to Liv:
“Sweetheart, it’s not a date I want from you.” He leaned in closer, his hot breath stirring her hair. His groin pressed against hers, the hard bulge of his erection telling her exactly what he did want. “I want you naked and moaning,” he said, “my hard cock driving into you. I want your hands all over me,”— his gaze dropped to her lips— “your mouth all over me. I want to fuck you so hard, you scream my name at the top of your lungs.”
The hand on her lower back pulled her tighter against his pelvis, so she could feel exactly how long and hard he was. “And after you do that, and you’re lying gasping on the bed, I want to do it all over again.”
(From Hard Ride)
4. Camaraderie
Steele’s gang of bikers is not a typical motorcycle club. They are six friends who ride together, running from the shadows of their past. They share a closeness I admire, with playful banter and very serious trust. They are a close knit group that shares everything.
Wild Card gestured to Steele, still asleep on the ground. “That man always has my back. Same with every one of his crew.” He locked gazes with her. “If you let him, that man will protect you and take care of you to the best of his abilities. And believe me, that’s saying something.”
(From Riding Steele)
5. Group sex
As I said, these six hot bikers share everything. That’s the perfect opportunity to have my heroines enjoy a romp with not one, not two but… yes, all six men. Gotta love that! 😉
6. Deep, dark secrets
All of my bikers in the Ready to Ride series have a deep, dark secret from their past that is explored during their story. One of my bikers, Magic, even has a tattoo with script that says “My secrets are my own.”
7. Danger, chaos and happenstance
Anything can happen. In both the first two stories, Rip, who is an ex-cop, gets drawn into a bar fight, prompting his heroine, Raven, to say:
“So will this be a regular thing now that I’m riding with you? Being thrown out of bars?”
(From Wild Ride)
Then there’s Wild Card, whose name tells you right off the bat that he’s trouble in the making. Wild Card means well, but sometimes gets them into trouble, like when he “accidentally” kidnaps Laurie in Riding Steele, prompting Steele in frustration to ask him:
“How the hell did you miss the fact that the plan was not to kidnap the woman?”
(From Riding Steele)
8. Protectiveness towards his woman
I love the intense masculinity and authority of the hero, contrasted with the incredible protectiveness he feels for his woman.
9. Possessiveness towards his woman
Not only are they protective of their women, but possessive, too. (Yes, even though they share.)
Steele pulled her into a deep kiss. “You’re mine. And nothing and no one is going to change that.”
She stared at him, dumbfounded. She should say something. Set him straight.
But she liked the possessive look in his eyes. Directed at her. Despite the fact he was willing to share her, it was clear he wouldn’t give her up to anyone.
(From Riding Steele)
What about you? Why do you love biker heroes? Everyone who comments will be put in a draw to win a copy of Hot Ride!
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Hard Ride (Ready To Ride series)
Opal’s latest book, Hard Ride, is initially being released in ebook form as a novel in three parts. The first part came out last week (April 7) and the second part this week (April 14).
Being forced to submit to a dominant biker may solve all her problems, if she doesn’t fall for him.
Liv never expected to find herself trapped in a dark alley facing a band of rough bikers. And she certainly never expected to see him again. Back in college when they dated, he was heir to his family’s business empire–and their fortune. She expected him to become a billionaire. Instead, he’s the heavily muscled, tattooed member of a rough biker gang…and just as sinfully sexy as ever.
When Shock sees Liv again, he’s ready to pay any price to have her in his bed and on his bike. Shock has his own scars to deal with, but he soon learns that Liv is in desperate need of financial help, though she won’t tell him why. So he offers her a sensual deal: his help for her complete submission. Can Liv entrust Shock with her secret…and how can she stop herself from falling for the hard rider?
Excerpt:
Once out on the street, which was pretty deserted at this time of night, Liv started walking down the road. She wanted to grab a cab, but there were no cars at all on this road right now. After a few minutes of walking, heading toward a busier street, she started to get nervous. It was at times like this she wished she still had her car, but with the drain on her finances, it was a luxury she could no longer afford.
There were some men hanging out on the corner ahead. Rough-looking men. Maybe she should go back inside and have the bartender call her a cab.
She turned and started to walk back, but as she got close to the bar, a few more rough-looking types exited the bar and started walking toward her. Their gazes locked on her.
Her stomach clenched and a chill quivered through her.
Damn Carl for leaving her stranded here. Ordinarily, she would never come to a place like this, especially alone, but Carl had insisted the only time he could meet her was after his shift as a bouncer at a nearby bar.
She turned down an alley beside her. She was pretty sure it led to the next block and she could probably catch a cab there. Or at least slip into the all-night diner she’d seen on the way here this evening.
But as she walked down the dimly lit alleyway, she wondered if she’d made a grave mistake. She couldn’t see very far ahead, but shouldn’t she see streetlights from the next block? Or headlights of cars driving by?
She heard a sound behind her and glanced over her shoulder as she picked up her pace. Her breath caught at the shadowy shapes of three men behind her. She lurched forward and ran smack into a big, solid body. She gasped as she pushed herself back from a man with a broad, muscular chest and thick, tattooed arms.
A friend of mine found me two dolls that she just knew I had to own. Sure enough, I bought them. How could I not? It’s Chucky and his bride!
The first night I owned them, I was surprised by how nervous I was going to sleep. I love being creeped out. But just as I was falling asleep, I thought I heard tiny skittering footsteps on the floor—and I had to sleep with the light on for the rest of the night. They no longer reside in my bedroom. I placed them at the entrance of my office. Yeah, the little ones do not like rushing past the creepy dolls even if they’ve never seen the movies! 🙂
So that got me thinking. I love haunted houses. But they really aren’t any fun unless I have someone with me to share the creepiness. Here’s my question. Answer for a chance to win a free download of Once in a Blue Moon.
What would it take for you to spend a night alone in a creepy old haunted house?
Tagged: ghost Posted in Contests!, General|12 People Said|Link
Last 5 people who had something to say: ButtonsMom2003 - Laura - Jeanine Lesperance - Linda - Dana -
UPDATE: The winner of the free story is…Donamuree Holmes!
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I’m writing like my hair’s on fire today—head down, fingers a-flyin’! Hope you have a more restful Saturday! 🙂
Post a comment today, and you’ll be entered to win a free download from either my Lone Star Lovers series or my Triple Horn Brand series! Here’s the question…
If you could acquire any fictional item for realz, what would you want and why?
Not so easy right? Do you choose Harry Potter’s cloak of invisibility so you can stalk your favorite movie star without being detected? (I have no clue why that popped into my mind first—cough, Chris Hemsworth naked in the bath!) Or how about Sherlock Holmes’ pipe? (I want whatever he was smoking!) And there you go. Have fun!
And just a reminder, I do have a sexy, new story out there right now…
Jackson Lowry cussed softly when he spotted the blue lights spinning at the roadblock just ahead. Too late to turn back now. He’d only draw more attention.
Squaring his jaw, he rolled down his window and forced a polite smile as he peered into the darkness at the sheriff’s deputy checking IDs with a flashlight.
As soon as the deputy waved the car in front of him to move along and turned to watch the black pickup roll forward, Jackson’s tension eased a fraction.
Maynard Colby’s expression turned from crisply professional to worried in a second, as soon as he recognized Jackson. “Dammit, Jackson, where have you been?”
“Around. Why?”
A soft moan sounded beside him, and Jackson reached surreptitiously beside him to tap the tarp covering his precious load.
“You didn’t hear?” At Jackson’s vague expression, Maynard stepped onto the truck rail and leaned toward Jackson. “It’s Sammi Jo. Her car was found in Shooter’s parking lot, the door wide open. No one’s seen her. Looks like she’s been snatched.”
Jackson cleared his throat. “How serious is this gettin’?”
“It’s only been a couple of hours, but Sammi Jo’s daddy is buckin’ to get the sheriff to call in the FBI, the CIA, the ATF—and whatever other agency his money can buy to find her. I tried callin’ you, but your phone kept goin’ to voicemail. After the way things went down at the weddin’ last Sunday, I don’t blame you a bit for layin’ low, but I thought you’d wanna know.”
Another sound, this time a snort, sounded beside him.
Maynard’s gaze cut to the dirty tarp folded over a moving bundle on the floor of the cab. A ruddy eyebrow shot up. “What’s goin’ on, Jackson?”
Jackson rolled his eyes then pulled up the corner of the tarp to reveal a bound and gagged Sammi Jo whose eyes glittered furiously back at both men.
Maynard barked a laugh then tightened his lips. “This time you’ve gone and done it, boy. This is seriously fucked up.” He laughed again, then tipped his hat to Sammi Jo. “No disrespect meant, missy.”
Jackson cleared his throat. “Don’t s’pose you can forget about this?”
Maynard’s gaze shot to Sammi Jo again, raked her once as though ensuring she didn’t look to be in any real danger, then tipped back his cowboy hat. “Tell ya what. I’ll put a bug in the sheriff’s ear, but she better come walkin’ through the po-lice house doors come Monday mornin’.”
“Not a word to her daddy?”
One corner of Maynard’s mouth crooked up. “Man’s already caused enough problems. Deserves to cool his heels a couple o’ days. Don’t do nothin’ I’ll have to arrest you for.”
With a nod, Jackson rolled up the window and pulled past the barricade. In his side mirror, he watched as Maynard crossed to the other deputy’s car and both men bent over laughing.
“See that, Sammi Jo?” he murmured, not expecting an answer because he’d made double-damn sure he’d tied some serious knots and gagged her pretty mouth. “I’m not the only one who thinks you need a good paddlin’.”
*~*~*~*~*
If you’d like to check out more of my recent short story releases…
Sandra proudly considers herself a history geek. She is the author of five historical romances including the new River Rogues series set in frontier America. When not researching or writing, she enjoys traveling, genealogy (she’s the direct descendant of a Norman knight) and watching British TV. She and her husband of twenty-five years live in a cabin on the river with two spoiled cats.
Two construction workers come to the aid of one woman looking for a last taste of freedom…
These are a few of my favorite things…
So that got me thinking. I love haunted houses. But they really aren’t any fun unless I have someone with me to share the creepiness. Here’s my question. Answer for a chance to win a free download of 
