It’s an exciting month for me! I have two books out on Nov 17^th. BOOTS AND THE HEARTBREAKER and MONTANA SEAL under my pen name Elle James. Be sure to sign up for my Newsletter. I’m giving away some great prizes. I have a Pink Kindle I’ll be giving away soon. So stay tuned! You have to be a subscriber to win! Look for my newsletter on Nov 17^th!

Sign up here: https://mylajackson.com/MylaJacksonContact.htm

Now for the teaser into BOOTS AND THE HEARTBREAKER….

 

Come visit the Ugly Stick Saloon!

Colin McFarlan’s back is against the wall. Two brothers have caved to their mother’s threat to sell the ranch if they don’t get married and give her grandkids—now it’s his turn. Too bad the only woman he’s ever loved is the one who came between him and his brother Brody.

When Fancy returns to Temptation, he’s determined to steer clear of the gorgeous real estate agent, who looks good whether dressed up in a pencil skirt or dressed down in cowboy boots.

Fancy Wilson made mistakes. Getting engaged to Brody was the first. Weeping in Colin’s arms—and falling into his bed—on the night she and Brody broke up was the second. She’s not adding to her sins by falling for Colin all over again. She’s had enough heartache.

Yet when Colin asks her to help break up a romance between his mother and the notorious town heartbreaker, she can’t resist. But soon they’re scrambling to undo the damage they’ve done…before it destroys their last chance for happiness.

Warning: Breaking up is hard to do, but reunion sex can be oh, so fine!

Amazon | Nook | IBooks | Kobo | GooglePlay  | Goodreads

Excerpt:

Copyright © 2015 Myla Jackson
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

Colin McFarlan stared into his beer. The pressure was on.

“It’s your turn.” His brother Angus nudged him in the side. “I’ve got Gwen and Dalton. Brody has Jessie. There’s only three weeks left in Mom’s ultimatum.”

“Tell me about it.” He lifted his long neck bottle and swiveled on the bar stool at the Ugly Stick Saloon.

The usual Friday night crowd did nothing to boost his spirits. Sure, there were ladies in the bar, but half of them were already taken.

“What about the Banks twins?” Brody nodded toward the gorgeous blond-haired, blue-eyed identical twins giggling at something Sam Whitefeather was telling them.

“I don’t know.” Colin cringed. “They’re so young.”

“Young?” Angus snorted. “Since when does that bother you? Besides they’re both twenty-two and legal, freshly home from college.”

Colin took a long swig of his beer and rolled it around in his mouth before swallowing. “I’m just not feeling it.”

“What’s to feel?” Angus asked. “You find a woman, get engaged and be done with it. Mom will be happy, she’ll stop making insane threats of selling off the ranch, and we can all get back to work without worrying about having our home sold out from under us.”

“Yeah, what’s keeping you?” Brody, the middle brother sat on the other side of Colin. “You’ve always loved women.”

“Right. Women. Plural of woman.” Colin pushed a hand through his hair. He’d always played the field, dating a woman for no more than three dates before cutting her loose. He’d always found something not quite right about the fit, and didn’t want any clingy goodbyes.

No single woman had captured his attention and kept it. Except one. Fancy Wilson.

No sooner had he thought of her, the woman on his mind walked through the entrance, smiling up at Dusty Cramer, the local sheriff’s deputy on a rare Friday night off duty.

Damn. There went Colin’s evening. He had just about talked himself into asking one of the Banks twins to dance. Now, all desire to dance with Hayley or Alexis fled. How could he dance with them when all he could think about was how beautiful Fancy looked in a tight, blue jean skirt and cowboy boots?

The real estate agent, who usually wore a pencil skirt and suit jacket, and made them look sexy as hell, appeared even more amazing in the casual attire. She reminded him of that one night eight years ago that had changed his life.

The night she’d called off her engagement to his brother Brody.

The same night she’d cried in Colin’s arms and they’d made love.

He’d gone from happy-go-lucky to destroying his brother’s trust and losing the girl he’d fallen for. Brody moved to the west end of the country and refused to come home.

It had taken eight years and his mother’s ultimatum to bring Brody back.

Fancy had left town not long after Brody, moving to Dallas to start over.

Colin knew that because he’d heard through his mother’s grapevine. Not only had she started over, she’d done pretty well for herself selling real estate. Why she’d decided to return to Temptation was beyond Colin’s comprehension. She could make so much more money in Dallas, and marry the high-powered man of her dreams. A small town girl making it in the big D.

A f**kin’ Cinderella story.

Colin’s gaze captured Fancy’s for a moment. Then she turned to Dusty and laughed up at him, her smile wide, green eyes twinkling. Since she’d been back in Temptation, she’d dyed her hair back from auburn to her natural blond. The woman would look good in black, brown, auburn or blond hair. Hell, she’d probably look good bald and with half her teeth, just to make Colin more miserable.

“What’s wrong, Colin?” Angus leaned close. “You look like you ate a lemon. Are the Banks girls really all that bad?”

Colin straightened and set the beer bottle on the bar. “Not at all. I think I’ll ask them to dance.”

“Both of them?” Brody laughed. “Might be a little hard to do in a two-step.”

“Not a problem. They’re playing ‘Cotton-eyed Joe’.” Colin pushed to his feet and strode across the floor, refusing to glance Fancy’s way, although he could see her in his peripheral vision.

He stopped in front of Hayley. Or was it Alexis? It didn’t matter. “Would you two care to dance?”

The two young women squealed delightedly and jumped to their feet. “Of course we would,” they said in unison.

Oh good, he’d get matching comments in stereo. Colin’s jaw tightened to keep from saying anything disparaging to the women. He just wasn’t in the mood for any of this.

He led them onto the dance floor, spun them both out and back into the curve of his arms. They giggled and settled into the dance, kicking their heels, backing up then moving forward, shouting “bullshit!” when it came to that part in the song.

An accomplished dancer, Colin could do the moves with his eyes closed and was tempted to do just that to avoid making eye contact with Fancy.

If having his old flame in the saloon wasn’t hard enough on Colin’s nerves, Fancy and Dusty stepped onto the dance floor as the song transitioned into a waltz.

“I’ll just sit this one out,” Alexis said.

“Thanks, dear.” Hayley molded her body against Colin’s and pressed her cheek to his chest. “Umm. You feel amazing.”

Colin muttered something, not even aware of the woman in his arms, his entire attention on how low Dusty’s hand was on the small of Fancy’s back.

Anger simmered below the surface and Colin’s muscles tensed. If Dusty’s hand drifted any lower…

CHARACTER INTERVIEW, Part 1:  US Navy SEAL Chief Wyatt Lockwood

There’s a wild filly who keeps avoid’n my lasso here at Bagram Army Base.  Captain Tal Culver, US Marine Corps, stole my heart from the first time I accidentally ran into her at Ops.  My SEAL team and I were coming in off an Op.  I didn’t know her at that time, but she was a Marine sniper and was there with her spotter, filling out paperwork at the Ops desk.  She had greasepaint all over her face and hands.  When I saw her, I realized instantly she wasn’t a man. Not because of her desert cammos and Kevlar vest she was wearing, either.  I guess my heart meter detected she was female, was all I can surmise.

Anyway, it was as if we both became aware of one other at the same instant.  I wore greasepaint, my cammo clothes filthy dirty and smelling to high heaven after six days out on a mission.

Our eyes met and held.  I felt such a bolt of lightning surge through me,  that it caught me completely by surprise.  I was stunned in place.  That had never happened before when I would meet a woman I was drawn to.  It was her spring green colored eyes, slightly tilted, that gave her an incredibly beautiful, exotic look.  Never mind she had greasepaint on instead of make-up.  I’d anchored to the spot and my mouth dropped open.  Her black hair was caught in a ponytail that hung between her shoulder blades, mostly hidden beneath the Kevlar vest she wore.

My whole body felt like it was on fire and I knew right then and there, I wanted this warrior woman.  There was nothing weak about her from the blazing look of disdain she gave me as I stood there, nonplussed.  Sheer, unadulterated confidence poured off her.  I saw her sniper rifle in a bag leaning up against the Ops desk.  I didn’t know the Marine Corps had ANY female snipers in their ranks, much less at Bagram.  How the hell did SHE escape my radar?  I think at that point I snapped my mouth closed, still holding her “don’t screw with me” glare in my direction.

She turned away, continuing to fill out the report at the desk, ignoring the hell out of me.  Well!  Women just did NOT ignore me.  Not ever.  I had little girls in kindergarten following me around, and then in grade school, high school and then, in the Navy.  I never wanted for a woman.  My team called me a babe magnet.  Yeah, that was pretty accurate.  Women have always been drawn to me.

But not THIS woman.  She was six feet tall, hard and lean bodied, and probably weighed around a hundred sixty pounds.  You couldn’t tell much beneath all the mannish gear she wore.   But my imagination filled in all those unknown blank spots beneath her Kevlar vest, two drop holsters on each thigh, a Ka-Bar knife wrapped around her right lower leg, the Camelback and radio equipment in her ear and attached to her left epaulet of her dirt stained blouse.

I WANTED her.  ALL of her.  She was MINE.  I made it my sole purpose in life to lasso this beautiful, proud and confident warrior into my bed.  Come hell or high water.

The disdainful look she gave me after she handed in her report to the Ops officer behind the desk was enough to make any man feel like a crispy critter torched in the flames of her narrow-eyed look.  And it looked like it would take hell and high water to convince her I was the ONE.

Texans don’t run from a fight; they run toward it.  And I knew in that nanosecond that Captain Tal Culver was going to be my ultimate challenge.  She threw down an invisible gauntlet between us as we stood there six feet apart, staring one another down like two alpha wolves checking the other out.  I wonder if she knew I was from Texas?   Then she’d realize the utter futility of saying ‘no’ and turning me down.  At that moment I gave her a cocky grin, letting her know I’d picked up that silent challenge.  She was mine. She just didn’t know it yet….

It’s heeere! I’m excited it’s finally out, ready for you to read! As I wrote him, I loved everything about Sam. He’s kind, loyal, doesn’t back away from the gritty emotions, and he doesn’t give up. Wouldn’t we all love a guy who doesn’t walk away when things get real?

I hope you’ve already got this loaded to your Kindles! Remember, it’s free for Kindle Unlimited subscribers! If you want to do an author a favor, be sure to page through every page of the book. And if you have time, why not leave a review? Let another readers know what your experience was. Who else can they trust to give them the straight scoop?

I’m out of here! I have other books to write! If you want more Uncharted SEALs, let me know.  🙂

After losing her partner and lover in a shootout, New Orleans police officer Aislin Dupree is tormented by memories of the past and the day she lost Marc LeBrun. At her darkest hour, she discovers that Marc had planned a romantic getaway on a Caribbean island before his death . All expenses paid. She decides to take the trip, hoping the island getaway will help her come to terms with her sorrow. Instead, she meets a man, a friend of Marc’s from his time served as Navy SEAL.

Sam Blalock is like Marc in so many ways that he makes her ache for what she once had. Strong, rugged Sam is her rock, holding her when she breaks, encouraging her to move on, because he knows about the pain of loss and the horror of violence all too well. She soon finds her waking hours consumed by Sam while she roams her dreams in search of Marc. As the time approaches for her to go home, she’s afraid to let go of the connection she’s found, and she fears she might be holding onto Sam for all the wrong reasons while she imagines another reality where dreams do come true.

Read all the Uncharted SEALs:
Watch Over Me | Her Next Breath | Through Her Eyes

Hi All! Cynthia D’Alba here. Thanks to my fabulous hostess, Delilah, for opening her door to me today. Luckily for you, today’s blog is short! 🙂

I am so excited about the next two weeks. Tomorrow (Nov. 10) marks the kick-off of 14 Days of Hustle. To celebrate the release of TEXAS HUSTLE, book 6 in the Texas Montgomery Mavericks series, I’m hosting 14 days of excerpts and prizes! A new excerpt and prize every day. Lots of different (and unique) prizes that could be yours! You only have to drop by daily and enter that day’s drawing! How easy, huh?

So what’s up for grabs? I don’t want to spill ALL the beans, but I’ll share a couple of items…

1. 50 x 60 Fleece Texas Hustle Blanket. If this can’t keep you toasty this winter, nothing will! 
2. Antique turquoise bracelet
3. 7” HD Kindle Fire

But you’ll have to stop by to see what else is up!

Wait! I forgot to tell you where to go!! Head over to my blog (https://cynthiadalba.wordpress.com/). A new link to the daily excerpt and Rafflecopter will be there!

A little more about TEXAS HUSTLE…

 

Texas Montgomery Mavericks, Book 6

Porchia Summers was born into a family who gave her everything except affection. She acted out until her parents sent her to Whispering Springs before their high-society friends found out about her arrest record.

She builds a good life in Texas, but then the old boyfriend who got her in trouble tracks her down. Desperate to find a way to keep her past and present separate, she places a bid at a bachelor auction on the one man who’ll get her out of town for a few days.

Darren Montgomery is thrilled when Porchia wins him and a week of camping with his entire family in a charity bachelor auction. He’s also curious. He’s been flirting with the town’s sweet, sexy baker for years. Sometimes she flirts back, but she’s never let things go further than that. Darren’s not complaining, but he wonders just what’s going on behind Porchia’s pretty eyes.

Warning: Watch out for chigger bites, love bites, and secrets that bite.

Pick up YOUR copy at

https://www.samhainpublishing.com/book/5645/texas-hustle

https://www.amazon.com/Texas-Hustle-Montgomery-Mavericks-ebook/dp/B014SIHRD2

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/texas-hustle-cynthia-dalba/1122604901?ean=9781619231290

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/texas-hustle/id1036093424

Thanks for coming by. I’ll be looking for you for 14 Days of Hustle!

Yay! I’m on the wonderful Delilah Devlin’s blog! Thank you Delilah for inviting me back 🙂

For those readers who don’t know me, all my erotic romances are inspired by classics, so when I decided to write a Christmas story, it wasn’t hard to find the one I needed for inspiration. My favorite Christmas story has always been A Christmas Carol.  I have read it, seen it performed on stage, and I think I own every movie version of it :-} What I didn’t realize was that this one story would inspire a whole series!

PLEASURES OF CHRISTMAS PAST is the first book in the series and it’s primary focus is on the Spirit of Christmas Past. In my book, instead of Scrooge, I have Holly, a very young widow who is steeped in grief. Instead of Marley, I have her husband Cameron who supervises the spirits. And then there is Jessica, the soft hearted social worker who has been assigned to Holly as her Spirit of Christmas Past, except this is Jessica’s first case and she is required to have a mentor. That mentor comes in the form of the very hot, very single, and very Scottish Duncan Montgomerie who has been training spirit guides for over 200 years!

I have to say this story, which I wrote this summer, put me in the Christmas mood very early and it seemed like forever before I could legitimately start singing Christmas carols (I did wait until after Halloween). Now I can’t wait to start watching Christmas movies, particularly A Christmas Carol 😉 Do you have a favorite Christmas movie? Is there one you make sure to watch every year? I’d love to hear which one.

And don’t forget to enter the rafflecopter below for a chance to win an ebook of your choice from my backlist because I just love giving away prizes! It’s sort of like giving a Christmas present 😉

Always, Lexi

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Pleasures of Christmas Past

When present-day American social worker Jessica Thomas is assigned her first case as a spirit guide, she’s excited to serve as the Spirit of Christmas Past for her client and prove she knows her profession well. Unfortunately, her mentor, the very hot, very single, and very Scottish Duncan Montgomerie has little faith in her ability and plans to catch her when she falls. As far as she’s concerned, he’s going to be waiting a very long time.

Bachelor Duncan Montgomerie hails from late 18^th century Scotland where he enjoyed life to its fullest, something he continues in death. Having been dead a while, he is well equipped to handle the afterlife where time doesn’t exist and phasing is the norm. What has him stymied is his connection to the uptight Jessica and the strange feelings he’s experiencing being around her, even though she refuses to listen to his advice. Duncan needs to figure out what it all means and fast because the rules change after death and the path Jessica is headed down could cost her her soul.

 

Purchase at Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo |
Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA | Amazon DE

From what Jessica could tell, there was no such thing as calories in the afterlife. Thankful she’d finally mastered the art of solidifying and phasing at will so she could enjoy her earthly pleasure, she took a bite of the sweet, cold dessert. As the nutty flavor washed over her tongue, she closed her eyes in sheer bliss. Now this was heaven. Opening her eyes to take another bite, she froze. “What are you doing here?”

Duncan floated on the arm at the other end of her couch, looking absolutely delicious in his jeans, t-shirt and socks. Socks?

“This is when your private lessons start.” The sexy grin he gave her had her swallowing hard as excitement skittered across her skin and into her groin.

Shit. The man was a walking tease. Make that a floating tease. She wanted Mr. Knows-It-All back. He was easier to deal with. Not sure what to say, she dipped her spoon in the carton and took another bite as her mind raced. What kind of lessons? From his look, her bedroom would be the proper place for them.

“What are you eating?” He leaned forward and squinted at the carton.

She swallowed and tried for a professional air. “Pistachio ice cream.”

“I dinna think I’ve ever tried that flavor.” His body phased to solid and he plucked the carton from her hand.

“Hey! The least you can do is ask.”

He shrugged as he dipped his finger into the green ice cream. “You’d just tell me I could have some, so why bother?” He lifted his finger and stuck the ice cream in his mouth. “Hmmm, this is good. No wonder it’s your favorite.” His grin could have talked a Sunday school teacher into stripping.

She stared, her body revving at the sight of him dipping his finger in again while her brain caught up to his words. “How do you know it’s my favorite?”

He winked. “I know everything about you.”

She flushed as her body heated. Crap, this man was a flirt if she’d ever seen one and his lilting accent didn’t help. She reached across the couch and grabbed the ice cream out of his hand. “If you don’t mind, I was enjoying that.”

He chuckled. “Oh, touchy.”

Why did she now feel like a bitch? She wasn’t like this usually. Mr. Distraction had her off balance and she didn’t like it.

If only Cameron could have given her a different mentor. Duncan Montgomerie would ruin her concentration and make fun of any mistake she might make. Her definition of “mentor” was not that. “I’m assuming you came here for a reason? I mean, besides the beautiful view.” She pointed toward the windows with her spoon.

He glanced that way before letting his gaze roam from the tops of her bare feet, over her legs, past her shorts to the stretchy fabric of her white tank-covered chest. She held her breath, waiting for his eyes to meet hers, but they stayed riveted on her breasts. Thankful she’d left her bra on so he couldn’t see how hard her nipples had turned at his perusal, she moved the ice cream to block his view and took another bite to cool down.

He smirked at her move. “As I said, it’s time for your private lessons. I thought you’d be more comfortable here than at my castle.”

She stilled at his comment. “You live in a castle?”

Author Bio:

Lexi Post is a New York Times and USA Today best-selling author of erotic romance. She spent years in higher education taking and teaching courses about the classical literature she loved. From Edgar Allan Poe’s short story “The Masque of the Red Death” to Tolstoy’s War and Peace, she’s read, studied, and taught wonderful classics.

But Lexi’s first love is romance novels. In an effort to marry her two first loves, she started writing erotic romance inspired by the classics and found she loved it. Lexi believes there is no end to the romantic inspiration she can find in great literature. Her books are known as “erotic romance with a whole lot of story.”

Lexi is living her own happily ever after with her husband and her cat in Florida. She makes her own ice cream every weekend, loves bright colors, and you will never see her without a hat.

Website | Lexi Post Updates | Facebook | Twitter | Amazon Author Page | Goodreads | Blog | Pinterest | Email | TSU

The psychic who sends Desiree back in time in my latest release, Deeper Than Perfect, promises scorching sex with R&B superstar Bernie Benson. Sounds like a good reason to travel back in time to me! The 70s were the decade of free love. I was a kid at the time, so I missed out. But one day I had a little fun. The family business had a really sexy employee with Paul Newman blue eyes and a toned tan body adorned in nothing but a pair of cutoff jeans. And when I say nothing, I mean nothing. He wore no undies!

I discovered this one day while having a conversation with him. He leaned against the bumper of a pickup truck, and those shorts had ripped, loose legs. I suppose I shouldn’t have looked, but once I saw it I couldn’t look away. “It” being my first glimpse of male junk. What an incentive to grow up! So, what’s your sexiest 70s memory?

Deeper Than Perfect by Afton Locke

Get your funk on!

Release Date: 7 November 2015
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B016H7W426
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27158555-deeper-than-perfect

Stay tuned for reviews and more: https://www.aftonlocke.com/DeeperPerfect.html

Watch the Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/dUktESZF3_M

Desi Warner is ready to end her life after an accident disfigures her face and destroys her modeling career. Instead, she goes back in time to 1974 to meet her destiny—R&B superstar Bernie Benson. Although her scars vanish, she and Bernie only have one month before a car accident will supposedly claim their lives.

The enigmatic singer ignites her senses, but her restored beauty is an illusion she can’t trust. Abandoned by his mother in childhood, Bernie has his own trust issues. Obsessed with completing his album, he’s just as hooked on his perfect singing career as Desi is to modeling.

Although they open each other’s eyes to different paths, change is not easy. When the fated day of the crash arrives, they must choose between life and perfection. A love that is deeper than perfect may be their only key to survival.

Excerpt (explicit)

Deeper Than Perfect – Copyright © Afton Locke, 2015

He cocked his head toward her hand. “What have you got there?”

The forgotten photo nearly burned her fingers. Why hadn’t she returned it before he walked in?

“Is this your mother?” she blurted out.

Ten more walls went up around his serious face. “Yeah. I thought I’d put that away.”

“Why? Are your parents still living?”

He took the picture from her. Instead of placing it back on the bookshelf, he tossed it into the top desk drawer, which he closed with a resounding click.

“My father is. She died when I was ten.”

“I’m sorry.”

He sat on the desk and crossed his arms. “I should have asked you to wait in the kitchen instead. Have you eaten?”

“Yes. Bernie, you clearly want to be alone. Why didn’t you let me leave earlier?”

The corner of his mouth turned downward. “Because I don’t want you to.”

Desi’s sandals clicked on the hardwood floor as she paced in a tight circle. “What do you want?”

He dropped his arms and stood. “You.”

What? The man made no sense today. Before she could say anything else, he embraced her and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. As usual, the texture of his sculpted mouth hardened her nipples to rigid peaks.

When she gazed into his eyes, they were warmer. So was her belly. Even without his erection pressing against her short scooter skirt, she had no trouble heating up her nylon panties after that kiss.

“I’m so confused, Bernie.” She rested her palms on his shoulders. “Why did you shut me out earlier?”

“Now you know how it feels,” he said quietly.

“What are you talking about?”

He held her closer, staring over her shoulder. “You were someone else at the photo shoot. Somebody I couldn’t have.”

“I was just doing my job,” she protested. “I loved knowing you were there, though.”

“They wouldn’t let me see you.” His hushed voice was especially raspy. “Those assholes turned me away like I was nobody.”

Now his earlier coolness made sense. The fact that he’d wanted to be with her so much filled her chest with melting warmth.

“I’m sorry.” She tweaked his mouth, coaxing a grin out of him. “I guess neither one of us can be ourselves when we’re working.”

“You’re probably right.” His hand perched on her hip and rubbed the curve of it. “You looked so beautiful in that bikini. I wanted to rip it off of you so bad.”

“Thanks.”

His fingers curled around the hem of her skirt and tugged. “I wish you were wearing it right now.”

“Bernie, I told you I’m not ready for a sexual relationship.”

His hot mouth seared her skin as he kissed and nipped the side of her neck where it met her shoulder. “Then when, Desi? How long do I have to wait?”

Her pelvis throbbed with an insistent pulse. Having his mouth and hands on her, especially after his puzzling coolness, was more than her body could take. If they had less than a month left to live, they might never make love again. Thinking of it filled her veins with ice water.

“Can’t we kiss?” she asked.

He gripped her chin. She gasped when his mouth devoured hers, whipping her head from side to side with the force of it. Despite herself, she found the opening of his soft shirt and skated her hand across hot, caramel-colored flesh. Her fingers tweaked his nipple before she could stop them.

“I need you, Desi,” he whispered with a half-cry.

How could she ignore such a desperate plea? She only had to remember the sight of Cole’s back the night he walked out of her apartment the last time.

But staying here and torturing Bernie with lust wasn’t fair either.

“I-I should go.” Her heart beat so fast with passion, she could hardly talk.

Instead, he lifted the backs of her thighs until they sandwiched his slim waist. Because they were similar in height, it couldn’t be easy for him to carry her that way, but he managed to deposit her on top of the desk.

The length of her canal swelled and filled her with delicious sensations of anticipation. She probably wanted him inside her again even more than he wanted to enter her.

After pressing her legs together, he lifted them by the ankles until they extended in front of her and rose toward her head. She reached behind her to support the straight-legged pose. If she hadn’t practiced yoga and pilates for years, she’d never be able to hold this position.

His tongue glided down the length of one and then the other. Her skin melted under the insistent, wet heat of his mouth. Keeping her legs together instead of spreading them took every shred of her willpower.

“Bernie, you have to stop.”

He slid her buttocks close to the edge of the desk and rubbed his erection against the damp crotch of the shorts built into her skirt. His head dropped back as he bumped her fabric-covered slit with his hardness. Stars prickled behind her eyes as her core swelled even more.

“I respect your decision,” he said, gripping his crotch, “but I need to have you right now. Somehow.”

“But—”

“Please, Desi. Don’t turn me away like those people did today. Let me have you, some kind of way.”

She bit her bottom lip when he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his erection. His fire-and-rain scent, mixed with sexual musk, tickled her nose and put each nerve cell in her body on alert.

With his eyes squeezed shut, he stroked himself with ferocious intensity. The sight of it accelerated her heart so fast she could hardly breathe.

She caught his fingers with hers—to stop him or rub that delectable cock—she wasn’t sure which. Unable to resist touching him, she stroked the tip, which was covered with a pool of clear fluid.

“Yes, Desi,” he moaned. “Feel me.”

She had to make love to him again but not yet. With her fingertips, she circled his shaft and rubbed. She loved having this mysterious, elusive man in her palm—even if only for the moment.

Coming Soon

Cali’s Hurricane (Oyster Harbor Series Book 4) – interracial historical romance

Where readers can find me

Newsletter: https://groups.yahoo.com/group/thelovechronicle/
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Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AftonLockeAuthor
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This lush and lovely novella is coming your way Tuesday! I can’t wait to hear what you think! I love everything about it.

I love the cover. I chose the images, but my dear sister, Elle James, put it together! I had the cover before I wrote the book, so the story was greatly influenced by how that cover made me feel.

And I had that title before I knew anything about the story. Which made it fun trying to figure out how it would come into play in the story. Not that I consciously figured anything out at all. The story just kind of “happened.”

This time, the person suffering the PTSD and survivior’s guilt is the heroine. We love our tortured hero’s, but this time, you get to see what the heroine’s pain does to our lovely, sexy SEAL. And yes, Marvin Gaye’s Sexual Healing is playing in my brain… Sam really does rise to the occasion… Okay, so that was a little crass, but how can I describe my hero? Patient, except in bed. Gentle, except in bed. Rough and rugged…in bed, too actually. In love at first sight? Yeah, but he doesn’t know it right away…

This is the fourth story in the series. I hope you’re already hooked and ready for more. So have you pre-ordered your copy?

Enjoy the excerpt!

Comment below for a chance to win one of the prequel books to Dream of Me.

After losing her partner and lover in a shootout, New Orleans police officer Aislin Dupree is tormented by memories of the past and the day she lost Marc LeBrun. At her darkest hour, she discovers that Marc had planned a romantic getaway on a Caribbean island before his death. All expenses paid. She decides to take the trip, hoping the island getaway will help her come to terms with her sorrow. Instead, she meets a man, a friend of Marc’s from his past when he served as a Navy SEAL.

Sam Blalock is like Marc in so many ways that he makes her ache for what she once had. Strong, rugged Sam is her rock, holding her when she breaks, encouraging her to move on, because he knows about the pain of loss and the horror of violence all too well. She soon finds her waking hours consumed by Sam while she roams her dreams in search of Marc. As the time approaches for her to go home, she’s afraid to let go of the connection she’s found, and she fears she might be holding onto Sam for all the wrong reasons while she imagines another reality where dreams do come true.

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Dread weighed her down, making her feel sluggish and stupid. I have to find the right door. She stumbled into a long corridor, wood paneling below wainscoting, and tattered, dark teal wallpaper with faded pink roses above. Like she’d seen in her grandmother’s house when she was a child. Only this corridor was endless and lined with teakwood doors—all identical, all closed.

How could she possibly find the right one? The panic in her body made her want to run and try them all, but she knew she didn’t have much time—a lesson she’d already learned. And turning the wrong knob led to horrors best left unknown.

She wanted to run but couldn’t, because her feet were as heavy as lead, mired in invisible muck, slowing her steps, making her tired. Her stride shortened. She dragged her feet on the floral carpet, staticky sounds following her, sparks biting her naked ankles. At last, she came to a halt, her body swaying. Too tired to care what she might find, she opened the door…

 

Aislin Dupree tugged at the collar of her dark uniform. She’d have a rash—a rosy red ring around her neck—because she’d sweated so much the collar was stiff.

“Stop messin’ with it, Ash,” her partner drawled from the driver’s seat. “You’ll only make it worse.”

“This stickiness is making me crazy. Heat’s so bad I wonder why I bother taking a shower before shift. I’m drenched again before I’m dressed. And why aren’t you sweating?”

She watched as Marc LeBrun’s smile in profile stretched in that lazy way that never failed to make her tingle from head to toe and exciting all the sexy parts in between.

He made a turn before glancing her way, flashing a smile. “I don’t fidget. Chillax, baby. It’s just another mornin’ in easy town. Good times…”

Good times… His sly code for sex whenever they were in company. “Stop,” she said, holding up her hand. “That’s not helping.”

He chuckled, but kept his gaze on the road ahead. “You think about Grand Isle?”

“Fishing on Grand Isle is not my definition of a sexy getaway.”

“Won’t be no fishin’, sugar. Just you ’n’ me. Bed and breakfast on the beach.”

“The sight of oil rigs kinda spoils the view,” she grumbled, but only half-heartedly. The thought of getting away from the city, which smelled foul this time of year, due to the rain and humidity and the sewage floating just beneath the street grates, did sound good. “Should just head to Thibodeaux. Nice hotels there. Might find one with room service. We can take an airboat ride into the swamps if we get bored…” she said, giving him a teasing, sideways glance.

“And that’s sexier than a B&B on the beach?” His chuckles grew and grew.

And she grinned, happy she was there beside him. Just another day on their beat. Most cops rode single, but this part of town was more dangerous. Extra manpower had been added to the shifts in this ward. They’d been paired now for six months. Lovers for the last three.

However they spent their time together didn’t really matter. It was always…good times.

Dispatch broke the silence with the code for robbery. “Be advised, female at location says pedestrian forced her to empty her register.”

The location was only five blocks away. Marc gave her a short nod and flipped on the lights.

Ash pressed the button on the mic. “51-12 responding. Five minutes to location.”

“51-12. 10-4. All units in the vicinity be on the lookout for a male, medium height, wearin’ a gray hoodie…”

The next few minutes passed in a blur. They arrived at the shop with its barred windows and shabby, white-washed exterior.

Marc entered first with his weapon drawn. “This is NOPD,” he called out.

No response came from inside.

Ash edged closer to his body, turning to watch their six. The hair on the back of her neck rose. She knew Marc felt it too because, for once, he was quiet and moving slowly.

The shop was small, just a twenty by twenty square filled with rows of racks stocked with snack foods and drinks. Glancing over the top of the racks, Ash spotted a door toward the back, partially open. Dark.

Both officers crouched down behind the racks as they made their way steadily toward the darkened doorway.

Marc pointed down an aisle, indicating she should come at the door from another angle.

Keeping her breathing even, she nodded and sped silently to the end of the row.

Another nod, and she moved with her back to the wall, easing toward the doorway. From this angle, she could see the bottom of a dirty sneaker, unmoving on the floor.

She lifted her finger and pointed to the door, indicating she saw one person. When they stood flanking the door, she reached out an arm to open it wider, a loud creak sounding in the silence. It thudded softly against the wall of the small office.

Marc edged around the corner, stepped over the young woman on the floor and went to the door at the far side of the room, which stood wide open, sunlight streaming inside from the alley.

Ash bent over the young woman and placed a hand on her chest, felt movement, and then pressed her mic to call for an ambulance. But behind her, she heard another creak and stiffened.

Marc swung around, his weapon raised. “Get down!” he shouted.

Ash ducked toward the woman, not wanting to get in Marc’s line of fire. Above her, a loud blast boomed—a shotgun round. Her body stiffened, and she glanced toward Mark. Blood burst from multiple places on his face and neck, spraying outward. His arms flung wide.

She screamed and came up, swinging back with her elbow and connected with hard muscle. No time to think. No time to pray. Marc had to be okay. She had to get to him. But first, she had to live.

As she turned, something struck her cheek. She went down, watching as though in slow motion as a man in a hoodie raised a gun and pointed it at her. Her own weapon entered her line of sight. A loud explosion sounded, the recoil jolting her arm. He jerked, his arms going limp, dropping the shotgun, and then he lurched past her, stepping on Marc as he exited through the door.

She got back to her knees and crawled toward Marc who lay so still, too quiet. His face was a mess, blood dripping down both sides into his thick black hair, pockets of flesh gone. What worried her most was the sluggish pulsing river flowing from his neck wound. She pressed her hands over it and leaned toward him. “Marc, hang on, baby. I’m here. I’m here.”

He didn’t blink. Didn’t move.

She pressed harder with one hand and lifted the other to her radio. “108. Officer down. Officer down. Shots fired.” She knew her voice sounded ragged, strained. They’d know the situation was bad. Please come fast.

She fought to control her panic. Do her job. Again, she pressed the button to let them know the suspect was fleeing the scene. “Six-feet-four male, gray hoodie, jeans, sunglasses. On foot.” She released the button and let the mic hang from her shoulder as she bent over Marc, all her concentration going now to her partner who was dying. She knew he was. Her chest pinched, and she could barely breathe. No miracle would save him.