My novel, Drawing the Devil, was released yesterday and I’m so excited. It’s set in the rodeo circuit with all it’s flash, and problems. I’ve always loved rodeos since I was a little kid, especially the bull riding. As I got older I still loved the rough and tumble aspects of the sport, but also appreciated the scenery more and more. There’s nothing quite like a guy in a nice pair of Wranglers.
For a while team rodeo’s existed and I’m probably one of the few people in the world who experienced one of those events. Funny enough, it was some of the less spectacular events that became more interesting when it was a team event. Calf roping was great as a team event. They ran the competitors at the same time, from opposite ends of the arena. Loved it!
But even without the now defunct team rodeos, I love rodeo. The advice authors heard all the time is for us to write what we want to read. Well, Drawing the Devil certainly falls into that category. I hope everyone else enjoys it as much as I do.
Ever since his father caught him with another boy and threw him out at the tender age of sixteen, Dustin Lewis has been fighting his way up the national bull-riding rankings. He’s on the brink of qualifying for the National Finals when he draws Diablo, a notoriously rank bull—and the ride goes bad.
When bullfighter Shane Rees frees Dustin from the rigging of the same bull that nearly destroyed his face, he comes dangerously close to dropping his guard. Shane knows the potential consequences of being gay in a sport loaded with testosterone-overdosed cowboys, and the resulting scars of mind and body have left him with little self-worth.
Their near-death-by-bull first meeting sparks an attraction that awakens every last one of their personal demons. Yet as the National Finals draws closer, so do they. But they’ll have to overcome emotional highs, near-tragic lows, and bone-crushing danger before love can bust out of the chute.
Nothing made Dustin feel more alive than sitting on a ton of beef and balls that ate cowboys for lunch. The rush was almost as good as sex. Almost. He was going to get a hell of a buzz from the bull he drew today.
“Get him in there, boys!” yelled Dustin.
His pulse raced as the bull slammed into the gate, never slowing from his headlong race down the alleyway. It tried to climb over the chute, hooves banging against the enclosure. Dustin waited for a still moment and then dropped onto the brindle hide below him. The metal chute was tight against Dustin as his legs wrapped around the bull with no room to spare. His body flooded with adrenaline. He yanked the rope around his rosin-coated glove as Diablo fought with the metal chute, then drew his crotch snug against his hand. He rammed his cowboy hat down tight. There was a second when everything aligned. Dustin gave the gateman a quick flip of his head, the signal for all hell to be let loose.
The side of the chute flew open with the force of two thousand pounds of muscle ramming against it, ending with the crash of metal against metal. The bull jumped sideways to clear the gate, then dropped into a spin.
With a snap of his hindquarters, the bull sprinted a few yards, then contracted like the devil’s slinky. It uncoiled violently, slashing the air with all four hooves in a gravity-defying move. As he anticipated each twist of the bull, Dustin tightened his jaw in determination. The bull finished his move by slamming against the ground, jarring Dustin to the bone.
Fuck! I see why this bastard’s named Diablo.
Diablo dropped into another spin. His body swapped ends with each thump of Dustin’s heart. As the bull hit his stride, Dustin struggled to regain control. No! You aren’t tossing me. Seeming to sense Dustin’s effort, the bull flipped back on itself and reversed the spin. The forces pummeled Dustin even as his muscular legs fought to regain their grip. Forces outside his control overwhelmed him. His battle against animal and time ended as he fell into the hellish vortex the bull created.
Shane’s gut twisted when the gate exploded outward and a familiar tiger-striped bull jumped into the arena. It had to be this motherfucker? His thoughts flashed to the thick scar bisecting his face. A souvenir from the last time he’d dealt with this bull. The crash of metal against metal signaled the start of Shane’s job. He focused his entire being on the cowboy who might need his help.
Shane tracked everyone as he positioned himself: rider, bullfighters and bull. There was a reason this bull won the vote for rankest bull at most of the rodeos he was at. Diablo liked to hurt cowboys and bullfighters. Shane gathered up the tattered legs of his costume as he read the beast’s moves and adjusted his position constantly so he could rush in if needed.
He studied the rider and how he handled the bull through the first jumps. Shane could imagine the painful jar reverberating through the cowboy each time the bull moved from one maneuver to another. Then it happened—the break in rhythm marking the loss of control from the rider. Damn it. Shane ran toward the bull. This bull rider needed help getting out of the arena in one piece. When he lost his seat and fell inside Diablo’s spin, Shane shifted to a frantic sprint.
He ran across the bull’s path, waved his hands and hoped the loose flags of clothing flapping in front of him would distract the bull from the cowboy under his hooves. A split second later, the situation became worse. The guy was hung in his bull rope. The slender rider bounced against the enraged animal like a rat in a terrier’s mouth.
Shit!
Shane ran across the path of the rampant bull, hoping he would give the other bullfighter enough time to get to there. “Come on, you worthless piece of hamburger meat. Chase me!”
The bull spun toward Shane, responding to the rag streamers that flapped from his arms. Diablo pawed the arena floor, tossed dirt high in the air and charged Shane. As he cut in to avoid the bull, the other bullfighter yanked on the kid’s arm. He popped loose from the rigging, and they landed on the arena floor in a heap. Shane dodged the end of Diablo’s blunt horn by a hair as he danced away, leading the bull from the pair, who struggled to get across the expanse of arena.
Shane raced for the barrelman, who dropped inside at his approach. As his painted face disappeared, Shane spun the barrel and positioned it between himself and the bull. Not a heartbeat later, the bull charged and a dull thud sounded as a cockeyed horn struck the barrel’s aluminum wall. Diablo paused, then tossed a spire of dust before charging Shane again.
Shit! Get that cowboy out of here!
Shane gauged the progress of the other two as he worked to keep the barrel between himself and the angry animal. After a brief test of wills, the bull left Shane and ran along the wall in search of an easier victim. Shane used the time to catch his breath. The bull circled back, and Shane’s heart jumped into his throat when Diablo’s head snapped up, his nostrils flared, and he spun toward the fleeing pair.
God damn it!
The bull thundered toward them as they ran for the fence. Shane realized only a slim chance of intercepting the ton of beef existed. He ran at Diablo, who whirled toward him again. The two ran a collision course, with Shane certain to be the loser. A gasp erupted from the crowd when, at the last second, Shane jumped toward the bull.
Diablo slammed to a stop. Shane sailed over his head and planted a foot on his thick neck. His momentum carried him forward to complete the jump. The crowd erupted into thunderous applause as he landed on the packed arena floor. He spun in time to see the cowboy pulled over the fence. The other bullfighter ran back into the arena as the bull shot out the gate.
Shane walked to the barrelman and slapped him on the back. “Did you get a nice nap in there? Ready for another bull?”
The crowd erupted into thunderous applause. Shane threw up his arms in a triumphant gesture…and curtseyed.
Shane sat in a dark corner of the bar, the intermittent flashes of flickering neon the only illumination. There was a tap on his shoulder, and he turned to see the handsome kid who’d tried to ride Diablo.
“Hey, man. I’m Dustin. You saved my ass today. Your drinks are on me. They said you jumped the damn bull to give them time to drag me out.”
Shane lifted his longneck and filled his mouth with the cool amber liquid, then let it slide down his dry throat as their eyes met. “Name’s Shane. Glad I could help. Your ride was a little crazier than usual, but with the amount of beer I plan to drink tonight, it’ll cost you.” Shane leaned back into the shadows, trying to further hide his scarred face.
A dimple appeared in Dustin’s cheeks when he grinned. “I ended up winning today, so I can cover it.”
“You won? I thought you fell before the buzzer?”
Dustin lifted his bottle of beer and chugged down its contents, his prominent Adam’s apple dancing as he swallowed. He emptied the longneck and lowered it with a sigh. “Everyone had shitty rides today, but my other go-rounds kicked ass, so I ended up high score.”
Another cocky, good-looking bull rider.
“Hey, fag, how’s it goin’?”
Shane bristled and started to stand to defend himself, but realized the crack was directed at Dustin.
“Yeah, fuckwad. Look whose tiny little dick is talking for him again,” said Dustin.
The interloper tipped his hat backward with a friendly wink. “Yeah, pussy. We’ll see who has the biggest dick. Just wait.”
“Hey, asshole, meet Shane. He’s the bullfighter who saved my butt today. We were just talkin’ about how much beer he’d have to drink before we’re even.” Dustin turned to Shane. “Todd puts out for me whenever I whistle.”
“Yeah, whatever. Dustin loves my dork up his honey hole.”
“Honey hole? You’re such a dumb shit.”
“Yeah, whatever. I need to find some hot tail to slip my nine inches into.”
“Go for it. Maybe there’s some drunk chick here who’ll think your four inches is nine.”
Todd flipped Dustin off as he walked to a huddle of girls whose drinks all had little umbrellas.
Dustin twisted back to Shane. “Sorry about Todd. He’s an ass, but he’s my best friend.” Dustin signaled the bartender and drank from the ice-cold bottle he brought, his second. “Also my closest competition.”
“Yeah, I saw you were really high in the earnings. Taking a run at Finals?”
Dustin nodded and set down his beer. “Yup, I’ve got a good shot at making the short list. If I don’t get too many more repeats of today.”
Shane’s hand drifted to the deep scar. “Yeah, he’s a bad son of a bitch.”
I’m getting excited! My first Ebook novella written and published by me, ZONE OF FIRE, Shadow Warriors series, is getting birthed right now 🙂
I have owned a publishing company, Blue Turtle Publishing, for thirty years. Before moving into being an Indie fiction author and publishing books by me as Lindsay McKenna, I cut my teeth on publishing my own nonfiction books. I’ve published Medical Astrology, Soul Recovery and Extraction, Path of the Mystic, Homeopathy for Epidemics, among others.
Now, I’m stretching my publisher wings to start including ebooks written by me under my Lindsay McKenna pseudonym. Same great stories, same quality of writing, just a different publisher. In this case: me. Which is terrific! I get into all aspects of publishing, which I’m very familiar with. I have a production team that consists of an: editor, copy editor, proof reader, graphic artist, back cover copy writer, a formatter, and we get ISBN numbers for each book, plus they are copyrighted before they are ever formatted and published.
On December 11th, ZONE OF FIRE was uploaded to amazon. The best news is it is .99 cents for my 11,000 word novella.
ZONE OF FIRE is the epilogue to NEVER SURRENDER, HQN, July, 2014, but also a ‘bridge’ to TAKING FIRE, HQN, 2.24.2015, all from the Shadow Warrior series. You will catch up with Bay Thorn and her husband, Gabe Griffin, former Navy SEAL. Those who have read NEVER SURRENDER, HQN, 7.2014, is the sequel to BREAKING POINT, HQN, 5.2014. Now, you can find out what is happening to them!
That’s what I love about the digital age….it allows me to do something so many of my faithful readers have begged me for over the years: to pen novellas or short stories on how a certain set of characters are doing since their initial book and story were read by you.
This is such an exciting time! I’m thrilled because I love my characters and I love to write “What has happened to them now?”
Bay Thorn Griffin survived being kidnapped by the Taliban, but the pain of the torture she suffered is never far from her mind. As Bay and her ex-Navy SEAL husband Gabe learn to juggle midnight feedings and sleepless nights with the arrival of their twins, they are hit with devastating news. Gabe’s best friend Mike Tarik has gone missing on a mission in Afghanistan. News of Mike’s possible abduction brings memories of Bay’s own kidnapping crashing back. Can she escape the torment she suffered to focus on her family’s happiness?
ZONE OF FIRE by Lindsay McKenna
Bowker 11.7.2014
ISBN: 978-1-929977-00-0
epub ISBN-13: 978-1-929977-01-7
mobi ASIN: B00QXU8KW6
Pages: 84
11,000 words/novella
Pub date: 2.1.2015
Blue Turtle Publishing Company
Cottonwood, Arizona, USA
A big thank you to Delilah for this guest spot! Today, to celebrate the release of Cowboy Overload, I’m chatting with the fabulous Lana Fox, editor at Go Deeper Press and author of erotic novel Cream, which releases on February 10. Look below for links to both books and a giveaway.
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Lana: The title of your book is such fun! How much can you reveal about the “overload” in Cowboy Overload?
Mia: I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced this, but when I’m overloaded—with information, stimulation, sights, sounds—there’s a moment when my brain switches from thinking to feeling. (Las Vegas and Black Friday shopping come to mind!) I wanted to recreate this experience for my main character Andie as she’s faced with the prospect of not one, but two sexy cowboys. There’s a moment in the story when she lets go of her anxieties and just feels. On a goofy side note, a friend of mine often sends me pictures of kittens and piglets from a site called Cute Overload. That inspired my title!
In the introduction, you say that Cowboy Overload contains “some of the most intense sex scenes I’ve written to date.” Can you fill us in a little on one of the sex scenes in the book? What makes it so sizzling? Was it exciting to write?
There’s a ton of steamy action in this story, but one of my favorite things to write was the scene where Andie watches Dean undress for the first time, right before he joins Andie and Decker in bed. He undresses slowly, like he knows she’s reading his body like a book. Dean is older and heavily built, with scars and a couple of mysterious old tattoos. It was exciting looking at him through her eyes. With erotic ménage romance, there’s quite a bit of choreography involved. What I want to avoid is writing a catalog of body parts and actions! At the heart of each scene are three people sharing not just pleasure but intimacy. Andie must trust both men, one of whom she’s just met, so it’s important to establish that Dean and Decker are experienced, trustworthy lovers who will take care of her every step of the way. That kind of trust leads to incredible chemistry in the bedroom.
Cowboy Overload takes place in Oleander, a “dusty little California cow town.” For a Brit like me, this is so exotic! What makes this setting perfect for sizzling erotic romance?
For a lot of people, California means Hollywood, San Francisco, the beach. But California also has an enormous interior. The Central Valley is about the size of Egypt. It’s farms and orchards and oil fields and ranchland…and cowboys! This is the far west, the California of Merle Haggard and Cesar Chavez. The people who work this land are tough, and for me, tough is hot. When I was envisioning Dean and Decker, I was thinking about descendents of the Joads, Steinbeck’s hardscrabble Okies who had to get through hell to make their home in California. These people are durable, body and soul. That’s sexy.
One of the many things I enjoy so much about your writing, Mia, is the way you immerse us in a character’s sense experiences, including the scents and textures that less talented writers often leave out. What are some of the scents from Cowboy Overload that stay with you, as the author? And what about textures as well?
Thanks, Lana! As a reader, I love sensual details. And let me just say that it was fun to imagine what two perfect, freshly-scrubbed cowboys would smell like! They’re on the road together, so they’d probably be staying in the same motel room. They’d probably use the motel soap—something cheap but serviceable…Ivory soap. It’s a distinct, sharp smell, not floral but clean. I thought of the worn leather on their boots and belts—that’s such a sexy scent. When you spend a lot of time physically with another person, you begin to smell like that person, so it made sense to me that they’d smell similar. But Andie can smell the difference. She’d know Decker blindfolded. Also, like a lot of writers, I’m really in love with the sound of certain words. There’s a line that stuck with me: “Tires hissed on the pitted asphalt.” This is near the beginning of the story. The parking lot of the steakhouse is run-down, and Andie’s run-down physically and emotionally. The sound of the cowboys’ big truck approaching is not a loud rumble, but a whisper, enticing her to make a choice: stay, or get in the truck?
Would you share an excerpt from Cowboy Overload to entice us yet further?
Absolutely! Meet Andie, Decker, and Dean.
* * *
Excerpt from Cowboy Overload
The motel room was a picture postcard from 1963. Faux wood paneling, a flocked green bedspread, and two plaster lamps carved and painted to look like eagles. The oil painting above the headboard was a woodland scene: three trees on a lone island in the middle of a lake.
“Home sweet home,” said Andie.
Decker put a heavy gym bag on the table. Dean went into the bathroom, brought out a glass, and sat down at the table in the corner. He took off his hat and ran a hand through his wavy brown hair. Then he poured himself a couple fingers of whiskey from a flask and sat back with a sigh. He looked around.
“Why here?” he asked.
“They don’t hassle us.” Andie took off her coat. The men looked at her in appreciation. She was wearing her new black dress: tight and short and strapless, it made her feel fearless. She’d had to sneak off to Bakersfield to buy it.
“Damn, girl. You’re fuckin’ beautiful.” Decker took Andie’s coat and hung it in the closet. Then he took off his hat and put it next to Dean’s. Andie sat down on the bed and slipped off her shoes. Decker knelt down and took her feet in his big hands, running his thumbs slowly along her arches. “That better, sweetheart?”
She nodded. She reached forward and ran her fingers through his thick black hair, mussing it with a smile as Decker’s warm hands slid up her calves and rested on her knees.
“Did you miss me?” he asked.
She said nothing.
He took her hand and pushed her palm against the hard ridge behind his fly. “Did you miss this?” he asked.
She smiled. “I guess so.”
He raised his eyebrows and spanked the inside of her thigh—not hard, but hard enough to leave a little redness on her skin. “You guess so?”
He put his hand on the back of her neck and brought her mouth to his. “You guess so?” he whispered again, and the warmth of his breath washed over her lips. She shivered and closed her eyes just as he kissed her, hard and hungry, a textbook Decker Daniels kiss. He tasted like peppermint toothpaste with a hint of whiskey—he’d taken a hit off Dean’s flask.
Andie felt herself plummeting into the kiss, getting lost in the familiar sensation of his lips and tongue. She planted her hands against his solid chest and leaned forward, hungrily drinking him in, only mildly aware that Dean was watching them from the corner like a silent, predatory shadow.
Decker’s hands skimmed down the sides of her neck and over her bare arms. He raised goosebumps on her skin. When he ran his thumbs over her breasts, her nipples hardened behind the thin, tight fabric of her dress. Decker moaned into her mouth; Andie felt the rumble of his deep voice in some sad, empty place in her chest.
He hooked his thumbs behind the neckline of her strapless dress and dragged it down to her waist. She was wearing a pink satin strapless bra. Decker broke their kiss to look at her. As he fondled her, his big, scarred hands looked brutal against the smooth fabric.
“Magnificent,” he murmured, kissing the tops of her breasts where they spilled over her bra. He reached behind her and with the flick of his thumb, snapped the hook.
* * *
COWBOY OVERLOAD Mia Hopkins
The daughter of a ranch foreman with a violent temper, Andie Rich hungers for glitz, glamour, and a life of her own. One night, she sneaks out and runs into her former classmate, professional bull rider Decker Daniels. Taking a short break from the circuit, he’s in town with his good buddy, bullfighter Dean MacKinnon. Dean and Decker have big plans for the passionate homegrown hottie. But does Andie have the guts to take on two cocky cowboys at once?
Sultry jazz singer Caroline Spence has a penchant for smokier numbers—and, as it turns out, men of a similar temperament. So when the darkly dominant Marcus takes her on as his submissive, she surprises him by sharing his love of double cream, both in a bowl and on her body, as well as a passion for kink that could lose him his job.
Still, it turns out Marcus isn’t the only one who wants Caroline. The young, rich, and audacious Kyle could listen to her sing forever. Caroline soon finds out, however, that Kyle’s obsession has a dangerous side. But with his charm and smoldering good looks, she finds it easy to let him push her a little too far.
I’d like to send a free e-book of COWBOY OVERLOAD to three random commenters who answer this question below: I love sensual details. The heroes of Cowboy Overload smell like Ivory soap and leather. What is your favorite sexy scent?
When I tell people I’m a writer, they nod politely and ask what I write, and then go back to whatever conversation they were having before. I get that. Only other writers and avid readers get even remotely interested when they meet a writer.
Those that do get excited immediately think you’re a big star and must drive a Rolex, or is that a Rolls Royce? Whatever. Sadly that’s the farthest from the truth in my case. I’m a writer making a living at it, but not making a killing. I wear sweats or yoga pants to work each day (I know, be jealous) and leave my diamonds and stilettos packed away for important events (probably my funeral).
Yesterday, I learned that COWBOY 12 PACK, a boxed set I have a story in made the New York Times Best Seller at #11 and the USA Today Best Seller List at #33. Though I was excited and jumping up and down, my dogs were not impressed. Sigh. I told my husband and he patted my head and told me, “That’s nice. What’s for supper?” I rarely see my neighbors because I’m on the keyboard all day cranking out page after page, trying to push the world up the hill of fame and fortune. That leaves my sister who is also a writer. I share my news with her when I can get her on the phone. She at least knows the importance of a list and can share my happiness.
So why do we do it? Obviously not for the fame and fortune, because it doesn’t always come our way unless we strike gold and make it big like 50 Shades of Grey. We do it because we love it and want readers to love our stories. And if it pays the bills, we consider ourselves successful!
So thank you to all the readers who buy our books and keep us in the business of doing what we love to do. We love each and every one of you.
Oh, and by the way…WE MADE THE NEW YORK TIMES BEST SELLER LIST!!!
****For a chance to win a $5 Gift card***
Leave a comment about your successes and the reactions of those around you.
I’ll choose a winner tomorrow.
I’m really fortunate to have a lot of friends who both support my work and my career choice and who, by some strange twist of fate, actually seem to like my writing. As I write erotica, erotic romance, LGBTQ romance and erotica, and the occasional piece of tentacle sex, you can see where I might hit a crossroads of disapproval in the real world.
These reader-friends are wonderful things, since I have people in my life who don’t support what I do at all (eyeroll… seriously, there’s like no non-creative jobs that people get so bent out of shape about… really, Johnny, I don’t think you should be in insurance, I mean, what would my bridge club say…), people who support me, but don’t care to read my books, and people who support me, but don’t really like what I write. So I know what precious gifts my reader-friends are.
Which does make it difficult, sometimes… I have two series of novels that I’m currently working on; the Rainbow Connection novels (LGBTQ Contemporary New Adult Romances) and the Demoniac Codex series (Urban Supernatural Romance). And I have an often roomful of friends who are reading them. (Yay, me!)
The problem comes up that there’s a huge gap between writing and reading. For example, I wrote book one, Roll, in April – August of 2013 and it was published a little less than a year ago in February, 2014. I actually had the entire first draft of Blues (Jan 28th, 2015) written before Roll was even for sale. It went through a couple revisions and then was handed over to my publisher in June for publication in March 2015 (a series of being ahead of schedules and my publisher being flexible and we ended up getting Blues out the door in January instead…). At which point I started writing Classic, book three and finishes out the trilogy with Beau and Vin as the main characters… which I finished writing in November, I think, and is already set for publication in September of this year. (There are two side-novels in the works, which deal with other characters, although Vin and Beau will have a significant role in both.)
For me, their story is over. Everything that’s happened has already… well, happened. In my head, Blues happened two years ago, Classic happened last year.
Which… leads me to the problem of spoilers. I’m a really excitable person and I love to talk about what I’m doing, and what my characters are going through. And my friends making this face at me.
I have conversations that run along these lines, “So, in book five, I’m opening at redacted’s wedding, unnamed character discovers that … you know what? Nevermind.”
What are your feelings on spoilers? If you could get hold of any creative and ask them questions about their work, would you want to know? Who would you talk to?
* * * * *
Blues
Rising sophomore Beau Watkins gave up everything to be with his boyfriend, Vin. Beau is disowned by his father, tormented by his brother, is rapidly running out of money, and suffers from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. On top of that, his boyfriend seems to see Beau as little more than a live-in maid. Troubled by word of his missing father and fighting nightmares of his own, Vin Reyes turns to alcohol to drown his pain. What’s worse, a handsome transfer student is a little too interested in Beau. Vin throws away everything that’s made him happy with both hands, terrified of his own feelings of inadequacy.
When Vin and Beau’s happily-ever-after turns into a train wreck of drinking problems, resentment, insecurity, jealousy, and violence, they both try to pick up the shattered pieces of their lives. Their mutual friends, Hector and Ann-Marie, try to help the two young men as best they can, but neither want to listen. Beau accepts a morally questionable job offer to pad his finances and Vin starts a downward spiral of self-destructive behavior that sends him right for rock bottom. Can Vin and Beau win through doubt and guilt, jealousy and recklessness, to find their place in the world?
Join Me Jan 30th for My Release Party on Facebook There will be contests, chances to win free books, and a $25 gift carf from Amazon. I’d love to see you there…. https://www.facebook.com/events/1539748809629898/
Tagged: Guest Blogger Posted in General|4 People Said|Link
Last 5 people who had something to say: Karen - Pat Freely - Sharon Chalk - ButtonsMom2003 -
A – Amazing in Every way
B – Beautiful
C – Cum…see what I have to offer *snicker*
D – Delightful
E – Everything I thought it would be and more
F – Fierce
G – Gentle and rough and everything in between
H – Happy. Kink simply makes me happy
I – I…highly recommend it!
J – Just what YOU want it to be
K – Kicks that sweet romance stuff in the back door
L – Love on steroids
M – Magical
N – Never boring
O –“O” face inspiring
P – Pussytastic (Please imagine jazz hands)
Q – Quitting only happens on the color RED
R – Risky but worth it
S – Simply Perfect
T – Touches everyone in a different way
U – Utterly satisfying
V – Vanilla it is not
W – Welcoming
X – Xtremely special
Y – You can have a little or a lot – I recommend a lot
Z – Zinc rhymes with Kink which makes it AWESOME!!!
That was so much fun!!!
In celebration of kink I’m giving away an e-book copy of any of my Members ONLY books!!!
Just comment below. Pick any letter of the alphabet and tell me what kink means to you! That could be reading it or living it or being curious about it!
You never know! Something you say…just might show up in a book!!!
Thanks for reading peeps – stay kinky!!!
Members Only, Book Six
Every night Jenna spends hours preparing submissives for their Doms at The Library. She encourages them, reassures them as they take a step into the forbidden and urges them never to settle. But when it comes to her own journey, she’s spent years hiding, trapped within the steel cage of her corsets. She can’t hide any longer.
Nick has wanted her since the moment he laid eyes on her but she’s always told him no. Until now. She agrees to be his submissive for a night but he wants more…much more. He unwittingly brings in the one man Jenna never stopped loving and, on the cusp of everything’s he’s ever wanted, he’s not the only one fighting for her heart.
Ian can’t forget her…his Jenna. He walked away years ago, but not this time. This time he’ll settle for nothing but her complete submission.
Three people unable to let go of the past must learn that love—above all else—is worth fighting for.
A Romantica® BDSM erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
Jennifer Kacey is a writer, mother, and business owner living with her family in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.
When I tell people I’m a writer, they nod politely and ask what I write, and then go back to whatever conversation they were having before. I get that. Only other writers and avid readers get even remotely interested when they meet a writer.
Jennifer Kacey is a writer, mother, and business owner living with her family in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.
