Note: Thought I’d misplaced Jennha’s blog, but found it. The contest I posted earlier this AM, just below this blog, is still a go! Be sure to enter! ~DD

* * * * *

Fall hit hard this week. Which I both love and hate. Love because I get to pull out the hoodies! Hate because it means winter is coming—not my favorite time of year. 🙂

But there are other great things about fall (one of my favorite seasons). Perfect days of mild weather, clear skies, and fresh air. The colors of the trees as they turn from green to gold, orange and red.

Halloween. So much fun dressing up and taking my kiddo trick or treating. Sports! Football. Hockey.

And school. As much as I love spending the summer with my kiddo, it’s nice to have some free time when she goes back to school. And she loves it as well.

As summer fades to fall and the temperatures drop, schedules pick up, and we prepare for winter I like to pull out some books that heat things up!  What do you do when the temperatures turn chilly? What is your favorite season?

Leave a comment and your email and I’ll pick one winner to win an ebook of Finding Her Dream. The giveaway ends September 26^th. I’ll post the winner’s name in the comments.

Title: Finding Her Dream (Midwest Kisses #2)
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Western Romance
Published: March 27, 2014

Add to Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21400442-finding-her-dream

It wasn’t until she watched her best friend find the man of her dreams that RayAnne Hill realizes there’s a part of her missing. She knows the empty space can only be filled by finding her own true love, complete with kids and the white picket fence. Fear of letting someone in stops her cold, and it’s much bigger than just finding Mr. Right.

James Shaw moved away from Kentucky and the family business to chase his own goals, settling in the small town of Kimmswick, Missouri. His business is succeeding, now he’s ready to complete his life with a wife and kids. One night, one look and he’s found her. RayAnne is everything he’s been searching for.

As hard as James has fallen for RayAnne, can he be enough to help her overcome her worst nightmare? Or will he decide he can’t wait forever, and walk away to find happiness?

Buy Links:
All Romance:
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-findingherdream-1461203-147.html
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00JCAZTX2
Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/finding-her-dream-jennah-scott/1119020767?ean=2940149369669
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/finding-her-dream-midwest-kisses-2

Author Bio:

Born and raised in Texas, Jennah is a transplant to Missouri long enough ago she should probably consider that her hometown. But she will forever be a Texan. She loves to write any story that will make a reader smile, laugh, and maybe even cry (although you won’t ever hear her admit that she cries). Whether the next story she writes is contemporary, urban fantasy, LGBT, or whatever other crazy idea she comes up with, there will always be love and romance in the midst of trials and turmoil.

Contact:
Email: Jennah.scott01@gmail.com
Website: https://www.jennahscott.com
Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/Jennah_scott
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorjennahscott
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/jennahscott
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/jennahscott

Teaser:

“I’m sorry, Ray.”

What? She whipped around to face him. “Why?” she squeaked.

“For that night. For being late. For letting you down. All of it. I hated not getting to spend some time with you.” James clasped his hands in front of him. Her gaze lingered a little below his belt. He cleared his throat and she jerked her head up. At seeing his smirk Ray’s cheeks warmed. She’d been caught.

“I should be apologizing to you, James. It was wrong of me to ignore you. I was being selfish, too worried about myself and how much I wanted to have dinner with you. Everything ended up okay, right? I mean I know it’s been a while, but…” she trailed off. Rambling would get her nowhere.

James grinned. The cooling fire inside ignited once again. “Yeah, sugar. Everything’s good. Shadow was perfect and her foal, Levee, is a beauty.”

“Levee? That’s an odd name for a horse isn’t it?”

“Maybe. I don’t care. She’s named after the Levee Apple Pie at the Owl.”

“Why would you name your horse after an apple pie?” Ray didn’t know much about horses, but she figured an odd name like that had to have a story.

“It’s not the apple pie. Once upon a time I met this girl and I screwed up. So this was my way of reminding myself what can happen if I don’t pay attention.”

UPDATE: The winner of the free Amazon gift card is…Karen (#4)!

* * * * *

Some of you who’ve known me for a while might remember a short story I had out there a while back called “Cowboy.” Just 5000 words and very sexy. A girl who decides to jump the bones of a very sexy cowboy who comes away from the experience with more than she expects.

Well, I’ve been sitting on that old story for a while. I dusted it off. It’s been re-edited, lengthened by a couple thousand words. I think it might be the start of something, but I’ll let you be the judge of that. The story will release on the 23rd. Here’s a peak inside…

Leave a comment and you’ll be entered to win a $5 Amazon.com gift certificate!

Lightning clawed the sky with a crow’s foot, illuminating thick thunderheads that glowed yellow-green and ominous. The color the sky often turned before a tornado twisted its nasty tail. Glad to be out of the rain and safe from the jagged streaks, I shivered against the cool vinyl seat as another flash lashed out like the end of a whip, lighting the sky so intensely that for a moment the darkened parking lot was as bright as high noon.

That was when I saw the pickup roll in towing a large horse trailer. The Ford F-160 ground to a halt beside the diner’s plate-glass window. The driver wasn’t going to bother trying to park it in the flooded lot.

I heard the muffled slam of the truck door when the end of the lightning strike flickered out, plunging the parking lot back into darkness. The driver would be soaked to the skin before he even hit the door. The distance was only twelve feet, but the rain was coming down in sheets. I’d been lucky, arriving before the worst of the storm struck. Mostly dry, I peered through the window at the deepening night, waiting for a lull before continuing my journey home.

Earlier, I’d read the clouds as well as any West Texas native could and headed to the nearest shelter. The tiny diner with its 70’s style brick façade, split vinyl bench seats, and chipped, laminated table tops was a welcome haven. The attached string of dingy motel rooms was part of Plan B, if the storm didn’t wane before midnight.

My arrival had been nearly forty minutes ago. Except for a bored waitress smoking a cigarette at a far table, I was the only customer. Until now.

The door squeaked open, and a cowboy strode inside. He pulled off his cream-colored hat and shook shaggy dark brown hair like a dog, sending droplets of water lashing against the glass door. His white T-shirt, soaked almost to transparency, clung to the hills and hollows of sharply defined muscles along his chest and abdomen.

I straightened in my seat, eyeing his tall, lean frame, liking what I saw. Instant lust drew me, stripping away my usual reticence with strangers. He wasn’t just my type, he could freaking set the mold. I licked my lips.

Setting his cowboy hat on the table, the deeply tanned man sank into a booth near the door, his expression a study in irritation. Dark brows drawn in a fierce frown, his lips crimped in a thin line.

This cowboy needed a reason to smile.

I pursed my lips and let out a low whistle. His green gaze sliced my way, taking away my breath. One dark eyebrow rose, his gaze sharpening, giving my face and chest a quick sweep.

His glance locked with mine again, and I figured I didn’t look exactly Coyote Ugly. Feeling brazen as hell, I smiled. “’Fraid you’ll melt?”

The corner of his mouth curled—just a slight easing of tension I found promising.

“I’m not that fragile,” he drawled.

I liked the raw texture of his voice—a scratchy rumble that started deep in his chest and scraped upward. Already I could imagine it softening to a rasp when he whispered. “Seein’ as we’re the only ones here, cowboy, wanna join me?”

With a nod, he gripped the top edge of the bench seat to haul himself up, giving me an interesting view of flexing biceps. He set his cowboy hat back on his head and sauntered my way. The easy roll of his hips and the dull clap of his boots on the tiled floor heightened the little flame of awareness growing inside me. The man certainly filled out a pair of blue jeans.

My gaze dipped only a moment, taking in the oversized belt buckle and the equally impressive bulge at the front of his pants before sliding up to cling to his mossy-green eyes, the corners wrinkling as he narrowed his gaze.

Something about him seemed familiar, like maybe we’d met once a long time ago. Only I knew I’d never forget someone like him. I shook my head, guessing I wanted a connection to this man that didn’t exist—something to make the plan unfolding in my mind a little less outrageous.

His eyelids dipped then widened, a subtle once-over that left my breasts tingling and my thighs tightening.

He nodded toward the window. “Storm catch you, too?”

So he was willing to exchange small talk to extend our encounter while he politely studied me to figure out where I was leading him and whether he was willing to be led.

I’d never considered myself especially easy, but I was quick to make up my mind when I saw something I wanted. Something I had to have—and this cowboy, I definitely had to have. “I don’t mind the storm. I needed a break anyway,” I said, trying to keep our conversation light and flowing. Soon enough, I’d figure out if he was ripe for a little more than flirting.

He continued to stare—at my hair and my breasts, again—until I warmed past the need to be cool. “You change your mind? Or you gonna have a seat?”

His soft snort, so typically male, plucked at my nipples. But he slid into the bench opposite me, stretching his bare arms wide across the top of the vinyl, all that lovely muscle and the shadows of his small male nipples coming into prominence with the stretch of thin, wet opaque cotton. “Travel far?” he asked, the texture of his voice deepening to a sexy growl.

Again, I pressed my thighs together, enjoying the slowly building heat. “From Atlanta.”

“Much farther to go?”

“Home’s just down the road a piece.”

He cleared his throat. “My name’s Da—”

“Cowboy,” I interrupted him, setting the rules of this game.

Interest flickered in his eyes. He nodded slowly and lifted his hat from his head to rake thick long fingers through his black-brown hair. “Am I gonna call you ‘lady’?”

I gave him a cheeky grin. “My name’s Carly.” My middle name. I’d used anonymity before when I’d been on the prowl. Kept a little mystery to heighten a man’s interest. “I saw you pull up with that horse trailer.”

“I took a string of horses to auction. I’m headin’ home now.” He sounded tired, but his steady stare told me he was waiting to see how this game played out.

I hated the awkward silence that followed, as though we’d run out of polite conversation. At this point, I had to cut or run. I cleared my throat. “So, it looks like we’re both stuck here for awhile…” I let my voice trail off.

His gaze sharpened, and I felt my bluster begin to fade. Had I been too bold?

“Look…” He glanced around. “I don’t know what you have in mind, but our options seem a little limited, sweetheart.”

The rusty rasp of his voice didn’t hold a single note of hesitation. He wasn’t pulling away. His gaze remained steady; curiosity gleamed—and maybe there was a little hint of challenge.

Something I never backed away from. I nibbled on my bottom lip, satisfied when his glance dropped to watch. My confidence restored, I arched a brow. “You don’t appear to be a man with a lack of imagination.”

“Not something I’ve ever been accused of,” he murmured. “But I generally like a little comfort for my partner.” He leaned over the table and whispered. “Something soft underneath her back or her knees.”

Hi all! Cynthia D’Alba here. Mega-thanks to gal-pal Delilah Devlin for having me here today. I’m happy-dancing over the release of TEXAS TWIST, the fourth book in the Texas Montgomery Mavericks series.

When I wrote Texas Two Step (book one), I had no idea there’d be more books in the series but I’m so pleased that Texas Twist isn’t the last book. There will be at least three more books…maybe more! Who knows! J

So far, Texas Twist has excellent reviews, so readers and reviewers seem to be enjoying the story of bull rider, Cash Montgomery and his love, Paige Ryan. Here’s a little more about TEXAS TWIST…

Real bad boys can grow up to be real good men.

Texas Montgomery Mavericks, Book 4

Hit hard by the death of her parents, Paige Ryan needs to figure out what to do with her life. She moves to Whispering Springs, Texas, to be near her step-brother. But just as she starts to get her life on track, the last man she ever wanted to see again sends it right back off the rails.

Cash Montgomery was on the cusp of having it all. Three bull riding titles, fame, fortune and respect from his family. Until a bad bull leaves him injured, angry and searching for comfort at the bottom of a bottle. With nowhere to go, he moves into his sister-in-law’s old ranch house in Whispering Springs—which he’s surprised to find already occupied.

As Cash rebuilds the dilapidated home and Paige starts out on her medical career, their old friendship begins to reemerge and sparks are ignited. Paige knows that Cash is nothing but a heartache waiting to happen. But maybe this bad boy has grown up to be a real good man?

Warning: Watch out for falling lumber, falling in holes, and falling for the wrong guy…again. You can leave your hard hat on.

Sound like you’re kind of read? Grab your copy today (and make me very happy!)

Samhain / Amazon / iTunes / Barnes & Nobles

And don’t forget…I’m trying to give away some cool prizes!

Go to my Facebook page to enter the Rafflecopter!   https://tinyurl.com/p2yxk9p

If you don’t do Facebook, try going directly to Rafflecopter to enter… https://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/73980e14/

AND, if you read Texas Twist and leave a review (Amazon, Samhain, Goodreads, Barnes & Noble…basically anywhere!), there is a contest JUST for reviewers. You can enter the reviewers only contest at Rafflecopter or at Facebook.

Thanks for coming by! Are you a contemporary western romance reader?

School has started. That means football season is in full swing at my house. Not only do both of my boys play, but we follow a local college team and I follow the Dallas Cowboys (yeah, I know… don’t judge). Our love of the sport creates an unbelievably crazy schedule for the next two months. By November, I’m always left exhausted and wondering WHY we do this every year.

Thankfully my oldest son started “school ball” last year so it took a little pressure off of us. This year he’s a freshman in high school (OMG!! *gnashing of teeth* *pulling of hair*) so his last period is used for athletics and he stays later to finish practice. Easier on mom and dad since it eliminates the pick up and running across town to get him to practice.

Now, my younger son is the only one that has to be chased down and taken to practice.

Honestly – I don’t know how parents with four (or more??!) kids do it. These two run me in circles.

And I’ve never been one of those moms who could drop her kid off at practice and come back two hours later. It’s that “what if” voice in my head that runs through all possible scenarios. When I’m writing, that’s helpful but when it comes to my kiddos, not so much. I see blood and guts and broken bones and a dead cell phone on my end. Makes me nauseous to even think of it.

So… either I, or their dad, spend a lot of time on the sidelines. Not only does it quell my just-in-case paranoia but It allows us an opportunity to be involved in their lives and lets the kids know what they do matters to us.

On the upside… all those practices make for great writing or reading time!

For those of you with equally hectic schedules, how do you make time for those things that you are passionate about (reading, building model trains, making jewelry, puzzles, etc.)? Inquiring minds want to know! Leave me a comment and I’ll enter your name in a drawing for a copy of one of my ebooks (either Down to Business or Risky Business). And if the winner is friends with me on Facebook, I’ll toss in a swag pack also. The drawing will be held on Sunday, Sept. 21 – I’ll post the winner’s name in the comments.

Now… here’s a quick blurb about Mystic’s Touch, my sensual fantasy that came out earlier this year.

When Prince Ceros returns home to take his place on the throne, he falls prey to a mysterious malady that leaves him unable to speak or move, though his thoughts and awareness remain intact. Danet, a talented healer, realizes the prince is alert inside his body. The two are able to share thoughts telepathically. Unfortunately her connection with Ceros may bring unwanted attention to her abilities and result in her banishment from the city.

Their unique bond grows as Danet races to find a remedy for the prince’s condition. Desire turns to love, which makes Danet fear for their future when he awakens. They seek out the villain attempting to take the throne and endeavor to find a way to stay together.

An excerpt:

Danet turned to look at the prince. He was a handsome man. It was a shame to see him trapped in his body this way.

Don’t try to distract me, the prince said.

How was I distracting you?

You were thinking of touching my hair.

I was not.

Yes, you were.

Danet harrumphed. What was your second reason?

My second reason?

You said you had two reasons for asking about my family but only mentioned one.

Ah, yes. I was trying to figure out how your family could be so intertwined with mine, but I don’t remember meeting you before now.

We were introduced once, long ago. As I have already explained, it would have been improper for me to have served you or spent any time in your company. Besides, you have been away from home for many turns of the suns.

Why is it acceptable for you to be in my service now?

I am no longer an innocent maid. I was married for a short time. Besides, completing my apprenticeship allows me a great deal of freedom even though I am not mated. I believe your mother is more concerned with your well-being than any sense of impropriety. Besides, there is little danger of your ravishing me while in this state.

How does she know that you won’t ravish me while overseeing my care?

She shot him a look that would have spoken volumes had he been able to see it. Because your mother knows me better than that.

Does she?

Yes. With one word, she made sure there was nothing to argue.

How unfortunate.

An image flashed through her mind of her straddling his very naked body, both of them sweaty and flushed. Danet tripped over her own feet. She quickly stamped the image down, not knowing if she had conjured it or if he had.

*~*~*

Check out the book trailer for Mystic’s Touch on YouTube:  https://youtu.be/4rcPumYSe5w

You can find Mystic’s Touch at these ebook stores:
EC:  https://www.ellorascave.com/mystic-s-touch.html
Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00G6MYL8S/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B00G6MYL8S&linkCode=as2&tag=denagarcom-20&linkId=NY4TL5EL6IX3WJM2
B&N:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mystics-touch-dena-garson/1117433039?ean=9781419938023
ARE:  https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-mystic039stouch-1422106-143.html
Kobo:  https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/mystic-s-touch

Author bio and social media links:
Dena Garson loves to read romance – the hotter the better. When one of her BFF’s said “one of us should be writing this stuff” she took up the challenge. If she isn’t writing, she’s making beaded jewelry and somehow still manages to make it into the office on a regular basis.

Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Blog | Ellora’s Cave Author Page | Amazon Author Page

Website: https://www.denagarson.com/
Blog: https://denagarson.wordpress.com/
YouTube Channel:https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCS1a-DzYifYaR4vLcauTmJQ
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/dgarson

Lauren Jameson sent me a present. It’s a brand-spanking new, SIGNED copy of her novel, Linger! Would you like to win it? Read on!

On her last night in Nevada before embarking on a yearlong veterinary internship, Scarlett Malone is celebrating–and looking for one night of incredible pleasure. But the man who draws her eye is not her usual type: He’s a cowboy whose alpha-male tendencies tempt her beyond belief. Scarlett can’t understand why she wants this man and no one else, but she’s determined to entice him to submit….

Dr. Logan Brody lives an isolated life in rural Montana, running a ranch and suppressing his submissive tendencies. Only on his occasional trips does he give into his hidden urges. He can’t deny his scorching attraction to Scarlett or that she makes him want more, but he never lets anyone break him down fully. He’s hers for one night and one night only.

But when Scarlett shows up at Logan’s door as his intern for the year, he realizes that the walls around his heart are about to crumble–and that this sexy dominant woman has no intention of letting him keep control….

Praise for Linger:

“Jameson’s third In Vino Veritas book is the kind of searing, emotionally wrenching story that fans have come to crave. She fearlessly explores every type of desire, as well as the deep scars and fears that drive her characters. Her honesty makes this story compelling on a number of levels. Not for the faint of heart, the journey of this submissive alpha and his wonderfully strong, devoted dominant- and their incredibly complex, redemptive bond- is one that readers will not soon forget.
-RT Book Reviews

“I absolutely loved this contemporary romance book. The author is amazing and Linger is a must read book. Get hooked into a Lauren Jameson book and you will be coming back for more.”
-Night Owl Reviews makes Linger a Top Pick!

“Steamy and daring with a sexy alpha hero to swoon over.”
-New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Roni Loren

“Lauren Jameson’s Linger teases and sizzles… [a] deeply satisfying read!”
-New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Eden Bradley

“I love the heroes of Vito Veritas. Each one is sexier than the last! The chemistry between Logan and Scarlett sizzles and kept me reading late into the night.”
-New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Suzanne Rock”

“A hot Alpha-submissive, and a strong heroine who knows just what he needs, LINGER is a provocative, powerful BDSM love story that will stay with you long after turning the last page.  This story ensnared me from the start. With flawed, likeable characters full of intense vulnerability, and smoking hot, yet emotionally driven love scenes, Ms. Jameson weaves a unique tale unlike anything I’ve ever read before.”
-New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Cathryn Fox

Want to know how you can win this signed copy?

Tell me what you’re reading now!

NOTE: THIS CONTEST CLOSES MONDAY NIGHT!

NOTE: The Random Scavenger Hunt Contest ends tonight!
See details for entering three posts down!

* * * * *

Tomorrow, His Every Fantasy releases! I certainly hope you give it a try. Sergei and Kara rock the bayou! The story has everything you could want: a hard-edged warrior, nefarious villains, suspense, and a group of sexy SEALs determined to keep a certain little virgin thinking about things other than her problems. 🙂 I know you’ll enjoy them. And I know you’ll be ready for the next story. So get your fingers walking to your favorite online store to pre-order the book! In the meantime, enjoy the intense opening of the story…

Comment today and you may win a signed copy of
TO SERVE AND PROTECT!

* * * * *

Buy at Barnes & Noble | Books-A-Million| iTunes

He’d been here before.

A makeshift tent city on a lonely stretch of Iraqi desert with a shamal wind kicking up fine, wheat-flour sand into a blinding storm.

Tar-paper shacks nestled in a rock-strewn valley in the Hindu Kush mountains under fat snowflakes whipping into a blizzard.

And just like those times, this ramshackle camp hidden in the middle of a Yucatán jungle was surrounded. About to be destroyed. The men guarding the perimeter, smoking cigarettes and bragging about their latest sexual conquests, were already dead. They just didn’t know it.

Sergei Gun drew a deep breath, inhaling scents of rotting vegetation and diesel fumes from the site’s generator. Dim lights burned in huts close to the entrance of the encampment. He’d chosen the far side of the camp, illuminated only by slivers of moonlight peeking through the forest canopy, for their attack. Checking the lit dial of his watch, he noted the time. Although he couldn’t see them and they’d maintained radio silence throughout their trek from the rutted road to the camp, he knew his team was in place.

He raised his arm and motioned twice with sharp pumps of his fist to the men beside him. Five seconds later, the soft muffled thuds of silenced rounds took down each guard. Seconds after that, his men, with faces blackened and bits of vines stuck into their helmets and the straps of their web gear to obscure the outlines of their tall frames, crept into the encampment, the crunch of their footsteps on the jungle floor masked by the howling wind from a tropical storm.

One by one, the security force paid for with drug money fell beneath swift, brutal knives and brawny, suffocating headlocks.

Sergei slipped past his men, making his way to the hut where their intel said the kidnapped Tex-Oil men were being held—one of a line of shacks with slatted wood sides that did little to keep out the elements. Tin roofs clapped with each gust of wind.

Through his night-vision goggles, he noted the shape of a man sitting beside the door of the hut, his head slumped toward his chest in sleep.

Sergei snorted softly. The guards were poorly trained, likely recruited from the local village to do the cartel’s bidding, given guns and more money than they’d ever see farming or leading tourists into the jungle. One or two actual cartel members were somewhere in the camp, and they’d be harder to take down than this one slumbering idiot.

With only a moment’s regret for the man’s poor judgment, Sergei slipped beside him and encircled his neck, his arm cinching to cut off his oxygen. He waited as the man’s heels drummed the dirt and his weakening hands clawed at Sergei’s arms, until the mercenary finally hung limply inside his embrace. Setting the body to the side, Sergei motioned to his second in command, Bear, to follow him while another extraction team member kept watch.

Inside, they found the two Tex-Oil men sleeping on the dirt. Bear moved to one man and went down on a knee beside him. Sergei reached down to the man nearest him and placed a hand over his mouth.

The man’s eyes sprang open.

“Shhh,” Sergei said softly. “Your name?” He lifted his hand an inch.

“Frank West,” the man gasped.

The ragged texture to his voice was a testament to the ordeal he’d endured the past weeks. “Is that Campion beside you, Frank?”

At the man’s quick nod, Sergei gestured to Bear to help the other man. “Mr. West, we’re here to get you both out. We’re Black Spear.”

The man’s relief, even in the green glow of the night-vision goggles, was written on his face. Frank gave another quick nod, signaling he understood, and Sergei backed away, holding the man’s arm to guide him upward. “Hold on to my shirt and follow me. Don’t let go.” He turned to head for the door.

Frank tugged on his jacket. “Wait,” he whispered. “There’s a girl.”

Sergei stiffened. “We’re here for you. Only minutes remain before the whole camp knows we’re here.”

“She’s in the shack next to ours.” He pointed with his free hand. “They brought her in yesterday. She’s the only other hostage in the camp. You can’t leave her.”

Sergei hesitated. Their mission was to extract the two executives who’d been kidnapped. Ransom demands had been met, but the cartel had decided to squeeze the oil company for more. Sergei’s plan called for an extraction so swift that it wouldn’t give the guards the ability to escape or tip off the cartel that they’d been raided. Still, the thought of another hostage, this one a woman, rankled. Breaking protocol, Sergei tapped his headset. “We’ve got another lamb. Need two on West and Campion.”

Stepping outside, he kept close to the side of the hut as two more of his team peeled away from the trees and sped quietly toward them. He and Bear handed off the men, and then peered around the side of the hut at the other isolated shack. This one was guarded by two men, rifles slung over their shoulders, standing on either side of the door of the hut and peering up into the swaying canopy above them as limbs creaked ominously in the storm.

Signaling to Bear that he’d lay down cover fire if needed, Sergei raised his weapon, sighting on the man nearest to him.

Bear crouched then ran past him, but neither guard noticed his movement between the huts. Once safe, Bear knelt at the corner of the building, his weapon trained on the men as Sergei darted across.

Leaning against the hut, Sergei signaled thirty seconds, holstered his weapon, and drew his knife from the sheath on his web belt. Cautiously looking around, he circled behind the hut, coming to a halt at the front corner of the building. At the end of the thirty count, he slipped around the corner, rushing the man nearest as Bear launched toward the other.

The struggle was brief. Neither guard had time to draw a breath, much less shout.

Sergei wiped off his bloody hand on his jacket, then opened the latch of the hut and stepped inside. A scuffing sound from his right had him whirling. Liquid spilled over his head, the scent acrid. Urine. A bucket clanked next, shifting his goggles and blinding him, but he was already on his opponent, clamping an arm around a slim body that he backed into the rickety wooden wall. Sheathing his knife because he didn’t want to inadvertently hurt her, he slipped a hand over the woman’s mouth.

Her jaw opened.

“Don’t. Bite,” he gritted out. “Ma’am, we’re here to rescue you.” Her body quivered inside his embrace, her curves pressed so close she could barely draw a deep breath, but he considered that a good thing. She’d be less likely to scream.

“I don’t believe you,” she said in a harsh whisper. “No one knows I’m here.”

“I came for the two men in the cabin next to yours. They wouldn’t leave without you.”

When her wriggling ceased and she appeared ready to cooperate, he righted his goggles and stared downward. Even bathed in a blurry neon glow, she was beautiful. And terribly young. Dark-haired, slender, and wearing shorts and a very thin tee that hugged her upper torso. Braless. That fact bothered him even more than her youth. He wondered if she’d already been raped. His body tightened. “I’m your way out. Or do you want to stay here?”

Her lips pursed. Her gaze darted to the side. When her chin shot up, he knew her answer even before she whispered, “No.”

“Then do exactly as I say. Hold on to my jacket when we leave here. I’ll guide you out. But, lady, I’m warning you, I won’t allow any antics. If you try to make a run for it, you’ll put me and my team at risk.”

“You have a team?”

Sergei pressed a finger over her lips. “Not another word. Follow me.”

He turned, felt her fist gather a bundle of his camouflaged jacket, then stepped outside. She followed on his heels, her steps soft. A quick glance behind him confirmed she was barefoot. But better she suffer bruised and cut feet than remain trapped here. There wasn’t a thing he could do about that situation now.

Not that she was complaining. Her expression was tense, her mouth a tight, determined line.

From the periphery of his goggles, he noted his team, slipping into the forest, melting away. Sergei hurried toward the trees then pulled his compass from a pack on his web belt, checked the tritium-lit direction lines to orient, and took off at a swift pace in the direction of the rutted logging trail they’d used as their assembly area.

Sergei trudged quickly forward, not speaking, impressed despite himself when the barefoot girl behind him kept quiet, her breaths even as he set a swift pace. Fifteen minutes later, he stopped at the edge of a road, checking up and down the line as members of his team slid into their vehicles.

He turned and put an arm around the girl to guide her toward the second vehicle in the line, although here in the clearing moonlight provided plenty of illumination. When he felt stiffened muscles against his touch, he kept his arm around her, telling himself he didn’t want to risk her falling and injuring herself, but the truth was, he wanted her near. Wanted her close enough to grab in case they came under attack or she tried to run. His hand glided from her shoulder to the small of her back. All nicely fleshed, firm muscle beneath. Not relevant, but interesting.

At the SUV, he opened the rear door. “Get in.” Tapping his headset, he asked for a quick head count, and each of the team members chimed in using hushed tones.

They’d made it out without setting off alarms. And without a single casualty. Another tap of his headset. “You set the charges, Linc?”

“Yes, sir. Countin’ down now. Eight, seven, six…”

Sergei swung into his vehicle, tore off his goggles, and gave a quick glance at Bear, who tapped the ignition button. At one, explosions ripped through the air, light bursting above the trees. Satisfied the cartel camp would be busy for a while, Sergei said, “Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Engines fired, wheels bit into the muddy trail, and they careened down the rutted track. Bear’s smile gleamed in the moonlight.

“Don’t say it,” Sergei said, not wanting to hear a celebratory whoop. “Don’t jinx it.”

Bear glanced into the rearview mirror at their unexpected passenger. “Get a name?”

Sergei aimed a stare at the young woman huddled in the center of the seat, moonlight filtering over her features. She wasn’t just beautiful, she was exquisite, despite the frown marring her dark brow. “Not yet. Time for introductions once we get to the helos. We’re not out of Omega territory yet.”

The vehicle hit a deep rut then bumped over it, unseating him. He reached for the strap above his window. “Better grab the oh-shit handle, sweetheart. It’s gonna be a bumpy ride.” And then he grinned because for the first time since his feet had hit the tarmac in Cancun, tension lifted. Still too soon to announce the all clear, but this operation had just gotten a little more interesting.

As VP in charge of special operations for Black Spear, Limited, his presence in the field was no longer required. He had well-trained teams he could scramble at a moment’s notice. Mercs on auto-dial. But he was fiercely glad he’d decided to accompany them this time. It was all about the woman. And the mystery surrounding her. Something about her pulled him in. Was it her youth? Her vulnerability? Or was it the courage she’d shown in those first moments when he’d entered her hut? His gut churned as he considered what else she might have endured. Women were often an easy casualty of war and crime. As many times as he’d stood witness to that truth, he still barely contained his revulsion for men who’d take advantage.

Again, he sought her lovely profile in the rearview mirror and his resolve solidified. No more harm would come to her. Not on his watch.

 NOTE: The Random Scavenger Hunt Contest is still ongoing!
See details two posts down!

* * * * *

If you follow me on Facebook, you know I’ve shared snippets from this book, including the thrilling entirety of chapter one. Here, I share a little snippet of the sexiness that ensues in the second of my Sultry Summer Nights books. My heroine is a virgin. Something key to the trouble she is in. Something that helps Sergei redeem himself for a past mistake. Virgin doesn’t mean clueless. It also doesn’t mean she won’t be eager for a little “instruction.”

Buy at Barnes & Noble | Books-A-Million| iTunes

Comment today and you may win a free Amazon
download of the prequel story, HER ONLY DESIRE!
I’ll be giving away a second Amazon copy!

A Sultry Summer Nights Novel

The last thing ex-SEAL Sergei Gun needs is a complication. As part of a powerful black-ops company, he’s led an extraction team into the Mexican jungle to rescue two men who have been kidnapped. Everything has gone according to plan until Serge discovers a third hostage-an exquisitely beautiful woman with a secret haunting her stormy gray eyes…a woman who refuses to make this rescue easy. With no choice but to bring her back to the compound deep in the sultry, steamy Louisiana bayou, Serge vows to protect her, body and soul…

Kara Nichols never imagined that she’d capture the interest of a powerful man like Serge. Yet from the moment they met, she’s fantasized about his strong hands caressing her naked skin, his musky scent lingering on her sheets. What began as a simple rescue mission ignites into a passionate affair. As Serge teaches her the tantalizing art of surrender, Kara finds herself more than willing to shed every last one of her inhibitions and submit to him fully. But the dark, dangerous forces that captured Kara aren’t ready to let her go so easily…

“Sergei, I’m not a baby.”

She spoke with conviction, her voice sure and steady. Sergei cursed himself for this lust he could barely control. Already, and despite his best intentions, his fingers were working her stiff little peak. His cock thickened, throbbing beneath her squirming ass.

But she was a virgin. The last time he’d been with a virgin was Afya, and he’d been nearly as green as she’d been all those years ago. What Kara wanted from him was wrong in so many ways. She needed comfort, to know she was safe. From Las Omegas, from him.

But her eyelids were dipping dreamily with every tug he gave her nipple. Her warm body was nestled against him, soft and wanting. Thawing the hard, cold places inside him. “This Lucio isn’t likely to let you go simply because you’ve lost your hymen. Men like that don’t let go. Ever.”

“All the more reason why I need you, Sergei,” she said, her voice tighter, her finger tracing the back of his neck. “Give me something beautiful. Something Lucio can never give me.”

His whole body tightened in rejection at the thought of another man taking her. “He’s not coming anywhere near you. He’ll never have you.”

“Please.” She slid her palm along his cheek, her finger rubbing his bottom lip. “Please,” she repeated softly.

Her pleas caused a pang inside his chest. Her soft, slender body was beginning to move restlessly. A signal his own horny libido found difficult to ignore.

Well, there were ways to distract her from her purpose. Pleasurable ones that would give her release and help her relax. Ways that wouldn’t leave him feeling empty and like he’d failed to keep her safe. He leaned over her and kissed her mouth, groaning because he knew he’d be in blue-ball hell for what he was about to do.

When he pulled away, he saw her breaths were shorter; her eyes were darkened with passion. Her mouth was swollen and so lushly tempting, he wished he could take it the way he was dying to, but fuck, she was a virgin—she deserved more. Should expect more. Her first time should be with a man she loved, with someone she wanted to build a life with. Still, his cock jerked at the thought of her plump lips closing around him.

Her gray eyes were like little mirrors reflecting his desire. She stared back, her arm around him, her body pressing on his cock, which was getting fidgety beneath her bottom. Something she didn’t miss, because she slowly rubbed against him.

He placed a hand on her thigh and gave it a squeeze, a warning to stop, but she only smiled. The temptation was there, her willingness shining in her eyes. Slowly, he moved his hand down her leg and then swept upward, smoothing up a petal of her flame-colored dress.

Kara’s fingers bit into his shoulder and she parted her thighs, giving him permission to continue. Her inner thigh was soft and smooth. Her pussy was hot as he cupped it, his fingers spreading, two on either side of her satin-cloaked lips, one dipping in between to finger her opening. Saved from intruding by the fabric of her underwear, he applied pressure, waiting as the narrow seam grew wet, soaking his fingertip.

Her lips parted, a ragged moan seeping from between her pursed lips. She inched her thighs wider and leaned against his arm, her breasts rising and dipping faster with each shallow breath.

He poked at the fabric, rimming her entrance, circling around and around, and then moved upward to find her clit. The tight nub was rigid to the touch and her breath hissed when he tapped it. When he paused, preparing to withdraw, she reached between her legs and pressed against his hand. “Touch me. Please.”

Damning himself for being weak, he slid his fingers under the band of her underwear and touched her sex directly. Moist, fragrant heat surrounded his fingertips as he slid between her folds, tracing them up and down.

Again, her lips pursed and she ground down on his cock, her bottom squirming so deliciously he gritted his teeth against the sensations rocketing through him. He’d love nothing more than to ease open his pants and slide her onto his cock, but he was in control here—the one tasked with keeping her safe. However, her shallow pants and gently rocking hips were doing a number on his good intentions.

Sergei continued to fondle her while he wrestled with his conscience. He tugged her lips, rimmed her opening, but never penetrated, mindful of her inexperience. But he was loath to leave her without providing a hint of the pleasure he could give. Wetting a finger in the well of her pussy, he transferred the moisture to her clit and gently rubbed it. He knew his finger was slightly callused, and by her sharp breathy gusts, she was sensitive, so he returned again and again for more lubricant, careful to keep her tiny bud wet while he swirled.

Her eyelids dropped to half-mast, and a thin sheen of sweat sprouted on her forehead and upper lip. Her teeth bit into her lower lip, and she sucked it inside as her body grew more and more tense. One thigh pressed hard against his torso while the other widened.

Her skirt inched higher and higher, until it swathed her hips and he was looking down at her sex, his fingers disappearing beneath a scrap of red satin. She was soaked, so was his hand, but he couldn’t stop, not until he’d given her what he could, without betraying his unspoken vow.

When he heard a tight moan seep from between her lips, he leaned to whisper in her ear, “Let go, now, baby. Come for me. I’ve got you.”

Her head dropped back, and she arched.

He held her against him, while he circled faster, pressed a little harder against the hard nub. At last, she came, her eyes rolling up, her mouth opening, her thighs tensing, before finally relaxing while she hung inside his embrace, limp and replete.

Sergei had never seen anything so beautiful. Her abandonment sent a wash of possessive heat throughout his body. His cock was unbearably tight, his balls hard as stones. But he gathered her up against his chest and held her close until she began to stir.

Her eyes blinked open, and she stared upward, a frown drawing together her brows as her focus narrowed.

“You’re welcome,” he drawled.

Her eyebrows lowered. “You think you did me a favor?”

“No, I gave you a gift.”

“It’s not what I wanted.”

“And yet you’ve drenched my legs.”

“Huh.” She pushed against his chest, then slid her legs to the side, standing. She wobbled for a second, but batted away the hand he extended to steady her. “That wasn’t what I wanted at all.”

Maybe it was because he was hard as a post, but hearing her, irritation flooded him. “You’re a virg—”

Kara pressed a hand over his mouth and bent toward his face. “Don’t repeat that. I know very well you have no interest in fucking a virgin. That you just did this poor little virgin a huge freaking favor.”

Sergei grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand from his mouth. “I’m protecting you,” he gritted out.

She bent closer until her face was level with his. “I don’t need your damn protection.” Her chest was billowing around her angry breaths, but her face suddenly fell. “Don’t you want me?”

That dejected look was more than he could take. He cursed under his breath, and reached for her, bringing her body between his open thighs while his arms encircled her. Again, she perched on a thigh, and he kissed her, hard, while he dragged her hand and cupped it against his straining cock. “Does this feel like I don’t want you?”

“Sergei…” She frowned. “I don’t want to be something you won’t let yourself have. If you don’t take care of it, I will. It’s a technicality. An excuse.”

She was right. He felt her words resonate all the way through him. Her inexperience was just another reason for holding himself apart. To keep himself from caring too deeply.

Her hand squeezed him again, then her fingers slowly trailed his length before falling away. “I won’t beg you.”

Still holding her hand, he moved up, ringing her wrist. Her hand curved away and she pulled, but he refused to let her go. He couldn’t. “I’ll give you what you want,” he said softly.