When I was a kid, I’d count down the school days until the final bell rang to signal the holidays. I bet you did, too.
Now you’re the one who buys and wraps the presents, decorates the house, bakes the cookies, does the grocery shopping, cooks the big meals, plans and host the parties… It enough to make you exhausted before you even start.
As women, we put way too much pressure on ourselves to create the perfect holiday for our families. It’s overwhelming. What it comes down to is letting go of some of the control and not worrying if everything isn’t perfect.
Some of my best holiday memories involve being in the kitchen with my mother baking cookies and cakes. She’d let me stir and add ingredients and, of course, lick the bowl and taste test whatever we made. As a result, I have wonderful memories, plus I can now make all those things for my family and friends.
She also involved us in the making of Christmas dinner. Younger kids can mash potatoes and stir the gravy. Older ones can help with the prep. They can also set the table and do the dishes. It gives them an idea of how much work goes into creating a holiday dinner. And do as much ahead of time as you can. I make my cranberry sauce a few days before Christmas. It sits fine in the refrigerator. Remember, you don’t need to have every dish your mother ever made gracing the holiday table. Pick the family favorites and enjoy them. There is always so much food and treats around the holidays, they won’t miss one or two items.
Draft your kids into duty and have them dust and vacuum. Hey, my sister and I had to do it and it didn’t hurt us a bit. Give your spouse or significant other a list and send them to the grocery store. Make the list as detailed as possible, but don’t be upset if you don’t get a particular brand of mayo or cheese. Someone else shopped. Be grateful and move on.
Cut down on your Christmas list. For office gifts, avoid the hassle and buy gift cards in bulk. They’re the right size and everyone likes them. Pick a local coffee shop. Everyone drinks coffee, tea, hot chocolate, juice, milk… You get my point. I buy them in $5 and $10 denominations. And, hey, if you don’t give them all away, you can treat yourself to a nice hour out in January.
Above all else, remember what the season is all about. It’s not about presents or the turkey. It’s about family and friends and hope. It’s about counting your blessings and being thankful for everything you have in your life.
So put the merry back in the holiday this year for you and your family.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all!
*~*~*
Naughty Heroes
And if you’re looking for a little something for yourself, pre-order Naughty Heroes now for only 99-cents. It releases on December 26th. Price will go up soon after.
NAUGHTY HEROES: In And Out Of Uniform
A collection of UNFORGETTABLE HEROES
MARINE ON A MISSION
N.J. Walters
When Mitch McCoy left rural Kentucky to join the U.S. Marines he never thought he’d return. Now he’s undercover with a state drug task force. He’s not only facing his past, but also Sara Hawkins, the woman who broke his heart. This investigation will risk their lives and their hearts.
SEX BOMB
Nicole Austin
From first sight I knew Marine Lieutenant Harlie Savage wasn’t fragile like a flower—she was fragile like a bomb. Definitely not some princess who needed to be saved, either. She was a queen who only lacked a sword, and I vowed to be her weapon.
HER SOLDIER OF FORTUNE
Belle Scarlett
Leia has no idea who ex-Marine Major Tate McIntyre is when he saves her life in a dark alley. Yet Tate’s certain Leia is his to have, hold, and protect. He vows to keep her safe at any cost. His only price is her heart. Semper Fi!
THE NIGHT WATCHMAN
Katherine Kingston
A disabled vet rescues a woman on a mission to collect evidence, saving her from the men chasing her. As Jace and Shannon race to survive and outwit a traitor, a deep connection grows between them. But staying alive long enough to explore the attraction will take everything they’ve got.
MILITARY BLUES
Elizabeth Lapthorne
Luke is struggling to recover from a career shattering IED blast that sees him permanently discharged. Milly’s career self-destructed and she’s moved cities in the hopes of starting again. Can this new life and new relationship be a second chance for them both?
N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.
Gale, the heroine of Warlord Unarmed, my most recent release, collects items discarded by loved ones. These items are often as broken as she views herself. Their damaged condition makes her love them MORE, not less. She proudly displays these pilfered objects, happily cleaning and caring for them.
I suspect you’re likely a collector also. Many people collect things.
Some people collect items for profit. For a while, I sold the duplicate figurines from my Wade miniatures collection to free cash to buy more figurines, to expand my collection. I was so successful at this; I made a profit at it…for a while.
Some people collect items purely for fun. We have no intention of ever selling our collections. We gain happiness from building them, from obtaining all of the items in our collections or seeking additions to them.
We, readers, often love to collect books. I enjoy obtaining all of the eBooks in favorite series or written by favorite writers. Another reading buddy loves to collect first edition print books. Yet another reading buddy collects print books signed by authors.
What we collect often tells a story. I like to collect eBooks because they are portable, I can access them from anywhere and they don’t take up much space.
When I was a kid, I would move with my family every couple of years. Space in the moving truck was always restricted and highly contested. If a beloved item was large, I often had to leave it behind us when we moved. So I would only allow myself to get attached to small things.
Which is why I also collect the Wade miniature figurines. I can fit thousands of these figurines in one medium-sized box and they give me tremendous joy. Like my eBooks, I doubt I will ever collect all of these figurines but I CAN complete series/collections inside my greater collection.
Gale, the heroine of Warlord Unarmed, will never complete her collection also. She will continue to obtain items from the beings she loves, caring for damaged objects no one else would keep.
What do you collect? Why do you collect those items?
Warlord Unarmed
Protected by the Barbarian Warrior
* * *
Murad, a technology-loving Chamele Warlord, has to track down and eliminate a rogue warrior before that male ends Murad’s reign. Permanently.
When a pieced-together wreck of a ship enters the sector without authorization, Murad assumes it is piloted by an ally of his enemy and decides to blow the battered vessel out of open space.
Then he hears the voice of its sole occupant and his orders and his priorities immediately shift. The captain of the ship is his gerel, the one female he’s genetically compatible with—the light to his darkness, his future, his everything.
He will protect her…even if it costs him his life.
Bounty hunter Gale doesn’t want or need protection. She has entered Chamele space on a rescue mission. A tall, muscular, half-naked barbarian with humor-lit eyes and gentle hands won’t distract her from that purpose, no matter what he tries.
A broken ship and an enemy focused on revenge do interfere with her plans. Gale’s goal changes from saving a friend to saving herself. The only being who can increase her chances of survival is the one Warlord she can’t resist.
USA Today bestselling author Cynthia Sax writes contemporary, SciFi and paranormal erotic romances. Her stories have been featured in Star Magazine, Real Time With Bill Maher, and numerous best of erotic romance top ten lists.
Sign up for her dirty-joke-filled release day newsletter and visit her on the web at www.CynthiaSax.com.
Ready for a fun read? Something sexy with plenty of action outside the bedroom, too? Well, Quincy is here! Quincy is book #8 in my Montana Bounty Hunter series, but can be read as a standalone—although, I’m hoping you will read them all. You know it was fun for me coming up with unique personalities and takedowns for each story! I hope you’ll pick up your copy and read it right away! I’m dying to hear what you think of my former Army Ranger and his beautician girlfriend. Tamara (pronounced Tuh-mahr-uh in my head) reminded me of me when I was in my twenties. Spunky, mouthy, and willing to go after what she wants—and she wants Quincy!
If you read it, think about posting a review. Readers trust other readers to tell them when they’ll have a good time! And you’ll be helping out an author!!!
Quincy
MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS: Authentic Men… Real Adventures…
Former Army Ranger Quincy James and beautician Tamara Davis met under less than idyllic circumstances—trapped inside her doomsday-bunker-turned-beauty-shop while he was hunting a skip. Now that he’s settled into his new job with the Montana Bounty Hunters, he knows he’s dawdled too long asking her out on a legitimate date. But then, he gets a new case right in the pretty beautician’s neck of the woods. A dangerous new assignment he doesn’t want her anywhere near, However, NOT bumping into her proves tricky and when they do cross paths, he blows it.
Tamara’s already feeling foolish over the fact she got way too friendly with Quincy when they were trapped together, but then, he never contacts her again. When she sees him on the street in her little town, she’s ready to give him a piece of her mind, but he acts like he doesn’t know her. What the hell?
When the pair find themselves forced together again, there’s time for a reckoning…
I'm planning a new series, featuring police officers and private investigators in New Orleans, and I need help naming the series. Which of these ideas appeals to you?
Crescent City Heroes (21%, 3 Votes)
Big Easy Bad Boys (21%, 3 Votes)
New Orleans Nights (21%, 3 Votes)
Crescent City Blues (21%, 3 Votes)
Crescent City Bad Boys (7%, 1 Votes)
Men of the Big Easy (7%, 1 Votes)
Total Voters: 11
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If you have another suggested series name, list it in the comments, and I will add it to the poll!
Finally, a new release! It’s been a while, right? Not something readers who’ve followed me for a while expect. I used to spit out stories at a crazy pace. But I think I can be given a bit of break given all the trauma-drama my family have gone through in recent months with the injury, long recovery, and then death of my father. Losing him, especially when I was so involved in his care, was devastating, but now, I’m ready to get “out there” again.
Last month, my daughter and I made a two-day jaunt to New Orleans to “refill” my writerly well. I think it worked. You can judge the result for yourself. I’ve been to New Orleans multiple times, but this time, I directly applied that experience to the pages I wrote—including the description of where we stayed while we were inside the city.
Enjoy the trip to New Orleans. Enjoy the very sexy romance between my Cajun SEAL, Thibaut, and his childhood sweetheart, Amelie. It’s a hot story, so be sure to have a glass of ice water handy while you read. And when you do read it, let me know whether you’d like more stories set in the Big Easy. 🙂
Hot SEAL, New Orleans Nights
The last thing this SEAL wants is to open his heart to her again, but Amelie needs the “hands on” kind of protection only he can provide…
Navy SEAL, Thibaut “T-Bone” Cyr, has a lot on his mind. The time is approaching when he’ll either have to re-up with the Navy or leave. He’s come home to New Orleans to spend time in his old stomping grounds while he mulls over his decision. New Orleans is where his roots are, where his family lives, but he wants to stay on the downlow while he considers his future. He’s also hoping the past he left behind doesn’t still haunt him. Fourteen years ago, he fled the city when the woman he loved dumped him.
Amelie Rivette is back in New Orleans, ready to start again. She’s helping her blind aunt run a voodoo shop in the French Quarter, but her aunt’s troubles are getting complicated. After a string of bad luck, which includes a robbery and threatening calls, Amelie finds herself trapped inside the shop when a fire is set, and she’s attacked by an assailant.
Coming to the rescue of his ex-girlfriend, Thibaut finds himself torn. The last thing he wants is to relive the pain of their breakup, but Amelie needs the kind of protection he can provide. Soon, neither of them can resist their attraction, but while they reconnect physically, he holds back his heart, not trusting that what he feels is real and not some remnant of their shared past. Complicating matters is that their families are conspiring to give him a reason to stay in New Orleans.
When Amelie is kidnapped, Thibaut realizes he’s still in love with her. Hoping he’s not too late, he sets out to save her.
He continued toward the sign that read MADAME JOSETTE’S HOUSE OF VOODOO. He stood with his hand on the doorknob, looking through the crowded shop window, past the voodoo dolls, candles, beaded necklaces, and Mardi Gras masks, through to the wooden counter painted in a glossy Chinese red with its old-fashioned apothecary shelving behind it, filled with organic mysteries. Josette wasn’t seated in her tall chair behind the counter. No one appeared to be inside the shop. Didn’t she know when she gave tarot readings in the back that someone needed to keep watch over the cash register?
But then he remembered the bell above the door, which she didn’t really need because of her uncanny knack for sensing her surroundings. The woman couldn’t see her old deck of cards but knew instinctively which she placed on her table, something that had fascinated him as a child.
He turned the knob, listened to the light tinkling of the bell, and stepped inside, inhaling the scent of whatever incense Josette had set to burn that morning.
Shuffling sounded from the stockroom beyond a beaded curtain. “Be right with you,” came a musical voice. Not Josette’s.
He swallowed hard and held his breath as a slim hand parted the curtain, and Amelie Rivette stepped out. His reaction told him that he’d been lying to himself. That she was the reason he was here. Fourteen years hadn’t blunted her effect, not according to the familiar tightening of his chest and his frozen thoughts.
The years had been kind to Amelie. Her curly hair came to her jaw rather than cascading down her back but was still a glossy, dark brown. Fine lines framed her hazel-green eyes, and her cheekbones were a little more defined, but her skin was smooth, and still that lovely dark cream that denoted her mixed heritage.
His glance touched on her mouth for only a moment, but that millisecond was just long enough to cause his blood to heat. Her lips were still full and soft-looking, and partly opened as though she was just as shocked to see him.
“Amelie,” he said, the word sandpaper-coarse because he had to force it past his tightened throat.
“Thibaut,” she said, and then her lips twitched, and she gave him a polite smile.
His back stiffened at that smile. Like he was a stranger, or worse, someone she’d hoped never to see again. A bitter taste entered his mouth because they’d parted, promising to remain “friends.”
“You’re back…” she said, a tiny frown forming between her brows.
“No,” he answered automatically, because damn if he didn’t want to disagree with even the simplest comment she might make. “I’m only here for a little while.”
“Visiting, then…” Her shoulders relaxed.
“You back?” He arched a brow then parroted, “Visiting?”
Her lips closed around a tight smile. “Actually, I moved back to help my aunt. If you stopped in to see her, you just missed her. She’s gone home already.”
He nodded. “Tell her I stopped by.”
“I will. I’ll let her know you’ll see her…another time,” she said, sounding a little breathless.
That was his cue to leave, but he hesitated to turn away. He wanted to keep looking at her. Committing everything to memory. Wiping clean the image he’d carried in his head for years of the way she’d looked before she’d turned to descend the steps of his family’s home and exited the wrought iron gate with the sun gleaming on her long hair, her cheeks pale and her eyes sparkling with tears—and her lips swelling slightly from the hard kiss he’d given her when she’d bid him goodbye.
Firming his mouth, he gave her a nod. “Good to see you, Amelie.”
Amelie stood frozen until he walked out the door. Good Lord, the man sucked the oxygen out of the room. His body seemed taller, larger than she’d remembered, and ripped. Gone was the soft handsome babyface he’d had throughout school that had made all the girls giggle and swoon. Now, his cheeks and chin were hard-edged. Even his dark stare cut like a laser. Like a caged tiger, his movements were fluid but reflected his physical power. She shivered thinking about the way he’d looked at her, his gaze flicking over her face and body, leaving a hot trail of want she fought to quell. There was no use thinking about him in any sexy way. She was the last woman on earth he’d ever want again, something he’d made abundantly clear when she’d broken up with him on the eve of leaving for Illinois.
“Illinois? What the hell, Amelie?” he’d said on that long-ago afternoon, his grip on her upper arms tightening. “I’m going to Tulane. You said you were, too.”
Yes, they’d both received offers of scholarships to Tulane. Him for football, her for math. But she hadn’t told him about the second offer. The one her father had pressured her to accept.
“You lied to me? All summer, you lied…to me?” he’d said, his dark brows furrowing in a fierce frown.
“I didn’t lie,” she’d whispered.
He gave her a little shake. “You let me talk about getting us a place near school…” His mouth curled into a snarl. “I told you I loved you. Said we’d get married.”
She panted, every word making her gasp with pain for what would never be. By his darkening expression, he’d never forgive her, never let her explain.
“I’m s-sorr—”
“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” he spat.
She swallowed, tears beginning to fill her eyes. She’d known she was going to hurt him, but she’d left this reckoning too long. “I h-have to go.”
Thibaut had stared down at her, his nostrils flaring, his cheeks red with anger. Then he’d bent toward her and slammed his mouth down on hers. The kiss had been hard, crushing her lips against her teeth—a punishment, when she’d been accustomed to only soft, sweet kisses from the boy she’d loved. When he’d drawn back his head, he’d released her arms, and she’d stumbled back and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. She’d stared for a long moment, memorizing his face, knowing they’d never be here, standing on his mother’s porch, ever again.
She’d left New Orleans and hadn’t looked back, but she’d never forgotten how she’d felt about him then. How she’d felt about herself for hurting him.
She’d been in New Orleans a month before she’d stopped worrying every time the bell tinkled that he’d walk through the door. Crazy thoughts like that had bombarded her ever since she’d returned. She’d seen him everywhere she went. Any burly, thick-shouldered man would instantly set her heart racing until she took a closer look. She’d told herself it was natural, because so many of her memories of this city were wrapped up with memories of him. Before she’d accepted that scholarship from Northwestern, they’d been inseparable, throughout middle and high school, dating as soon as her father had reluctantly approved.
It had taken years for her to get over Thibaut Cyr…
Next week, the fourth book in the Montana Bounty Hunters series hits Amazon! Cochise is more of what readers have been loving—a hot as hell bounty hunter who doesn’t like rules, a strong heroine worthy of our hero, and an action-packed story! Oh, and there are plenty of sexy times, too! Read the opening of the story below. Then be sure to catch up on books one through three! Get ready for a wild ride!
Former Army sniper, Cochise Mercier, left Denver SWAT under a cloud of controversy, which was why he ended up back home in Montana, and where he heard about the Montana Bounty Hunters. The “cloud” didn’t seem to bother his new boss, so he’s all in and finding he enjoys hunting down fugitives for bounties, encumbered by fewer rules.
Sammy McCallister is a by-the-book sheriff’s deputy, who has a beef with bounty hunters. Forced to stand by with her gun in her holster, while hunters take down scumbags, she’s particularly irked by the new guy in town. Cochise, with his long black hair and thousand-yard-stare makes her uncomfortable, itchy in ways she’s never felt before. When she finds herself needing his help, the reason for her irritation becomes all too clear. She wants him. But first, they have to make it out of the mountains alive…
Cochise Mercier, the new hire at Montana Bounty Hunters, took a deep breath to force his heart to slow its pace. A trick he’d learned as an Army sniper to make sure a jerking breath didn’t mess up a shot. The trick worked in most situations when he needed his mind to slow and for his focus to home in on a target or a situation. Clearing his mind meant he was able to take in more of what was happening around him and enabled him to discard the things that weren’t important—like the way the wind beat a tree branch against the side of the house, a steady thump that sounded almost like clomping footsteps. Instead, he concentrated on the way the light, beaming through the tall arched windows at the front of the house, flickered whenever his target paced left or right, telling him where their mark was. An important fact, because in seconds, he’d have to breach the oak front door and be ready to take him down—with his weapon or his body, depending on whether Randy Pinter was armed. A fact Cochise would have to ascertain in a split second.
“Can’t see any movement in the back rooms,” came Jamie Burke’s voice through his earpiece. “I think he’s alone.”
He still wasn’t used to hearing a woman’s voice on the comms. He’d never had a female as part of any of his missions on the ground with the Army, and Denver’s SWAT had, at the time, been all male. That voice interrupted his calm. His instinct was to protect women and children, but she was a part of this team—and his boss—so again, he drew a deep breath, pushed aside his concern, and concentrated on his target. Pinter was pacing in front of the window to the right of the front door.
“Girlfriend’s car isn’t in the garage,” came Sky Reynold’s deep voice. “Must have gone for takeout. I’m moving around to the front.”
“Deputies just arrived,” Lacey Jones’s too perky voice sounded. “I’ll go brief them about what’s about to go down. Make sure they know we have the owner’s permission to be here.”
Cochise could hear the excitement in her higher pitch. Thank God, she was back at the road with the vehicles. The thought of her cotton-candy sweetness being anywhere near Pinter made him shudder. The girl might have qualified with her weapon and might be doing well with her self-defense classes, but she had no real experience going head-on with bad dudes. He didn’t want to be around the first time she was truly tested.
“You call it, Cochise,” Jamie said.
With his heart as slow as when he slept, he felt the familiar ice-water chill flow over him. “Ready,” he whispered and then stepped away from the bushes beside the porch. “Moving toward the door… On three. One…two…three.”
He pounded three times on the door. “Federal Recovery Agent! Get down on the floor!”
Then, just as they’d rehearsed, Sky popped up, used a short cudgel to break the right front window, and tossed a flashbang grenade through the opening he’d made.
Cochise turned his back and crouched beside the door. A split second later, he heard the explosion and a muffled shout. He stood and swung the battering ram against the thick front door. The frame around the door splintered. He tossed the ram and kicked the thick oak, waiting as it slammed forward against dark wood flooring. Then pulling his weapon from its holster, he stepped onto the door into the foyer.
Inside, he saw no sign of Pinter. “Not in foyer. Moving to living room.”
“I’m coming your way,” Jamie said, and then a moment later, “Mudroom, clear. I’ll check the garage.”
Sky stepped to the right. “I’ll take the kitchen.”
Cochise headed through the living room. “Living room clear.” Then he moved toward the room farther to the left—a study he’d peered inside earlier. He shoved open the door, stepped to the side, then quickly darted through the opening, bending low as he entered. He glanced behind a sofa, opened the closet. “Clear.”
“Clear in the kitchen,” said Sky. “Moving toward the stairs.”
Cochise cleared the downstairs bathroom, another hallway closet, and then ran up the stairs. Just as he reached the darkened landing, he saw Sky back out of a bedroom and shake his head. Cochise signaled that he’d head right toward what he suspected was the master bedroom, while Sky took a smaller bedroom at the other end of the hallway. Cochise unclipped his Maglite from his web belt and shone it down the darkened hallway.
“Garage clear,” Jamie said.
“Make sure the bastard didn’t circle around to the backyard.” Lacey and Dagger had the road and yard fence line covered, and both were quiet.
Just as he reached out to turn the door handle for the master bedroom, Sky whispered, “Clear.” Cochise tensed. Last possible place.
Pinter must have shot up the steps the second the window was broken. Slippery bastard. Something they’d learned talking to the cops who’d arrested him for a home invasion. The fact the judge had awarded him bail after he’d led the police on a three-mile foot race through backyards, over fences, and through busy intersections, where he’d nearly lost the cops, had the entire team shaking their heads. The $500,000 bail must have seemed an impossible goal for a two-time loser, but the prosecutor hadn’t looked closely enough at the family to raise an argument. They hadn’t known the grandfather doted on the prick. He’d willingly used his ranch to secure the bond.
Why Pinter had chosen a life of crime was beyond Cochise. He came from money, dated money, and now, he was facing decades in jail after beating up a couple he’d robbed at gunpoint for a measly sixty dollars and a wedding ring.
Sky came up beside him, a shotgun loaded with beanbag rounds raised, with the stock against his shoulder, and cupping a flashlight against the barrel. He gave Cochise a nod.
Cochise quietly turned the knob then shoved it open. Sky preceded him through the door, turning his body to the left then the right.
Cochise went to the bed and flipped the mattress off the frame. Nobody huddled under it. He quietly slid open the nightstand drawer, the place where Mr. Anderson said he kept a handgun. Shining the light inside the drawer, Cochise noted it was empty, except for a bag of cough drops and loose change. Catching Sky’s glance, he shook his head.
He moved to the bathroom door while Sky sped to the walk-in closet.
As he turned the handle, he heard the scuff of a foot and froze. Withdrawing his hand, he signaled to Sky, who quickly edged to the opposite side of the door.
Pinter had plenty of warning they were there. He had no place left to hide. Likely had the gun. Cochise’s best route would be to get him to surrender.
“Randy,” Cochise called out, “you’re not getting out of this house. We’re bounty hunters, and we’ve been tracking you for days. A whole goddamn team to take down your sorry ass. We have deputies in the road out front in case you decide to be stupid. You’re not going to be stupid, are you?”
Sky moved a step backward. “We think we have him cornered in the upstairs bathroom,” he whispered to the team. “Get eyes on the side of the house beneath the window.”
“Already there,” Dagger said.
Sky moved closer.
“Buddy,” Cochise said, keeping an even tone. “Your best move is to come out with your hands up where we can see them.”
Ten seconds passed. Not a sound came from behind the closed door.
Again, Cochise reached out and gripped the knob. It was locked. Stepping in front of the door, he raised a foot.
But he heard a click and pitched to the side. An explosion ripped through the door.
On his back on the floor, Cochise stared at a circle with splintered edges right where he’d been standing a second earlier. He rolled to his feet, his weapon aimed at the hole.
“What the fuck?” Jamie shouted in his ear. “Coming up the stairs.”
“Deputies are running for the house,” Lacey said sounding breathless, like she was running, too.
In the distance, he heard several sets of footsteps stomping quickly up the stairs. No way was he letting the women anywhere near this vicious pig. He aimed at the door. “Better get on the ground, Pinter.” Then he fired two shots, just to make sure the dirtbag was taking cover, and kicked in the door.
Inside the room, he made out the glint of metal coming from around the side of the shower stall. He ducked into the stall as a shot fired. Then he darted out again, reaching out his left hand as the handgun appeared around the corner. With his back to Pinter, he gripped the weapon, shoving it, and the hand that held it, to the side. A shot hit the toilet, shattering porcelain. Water spilled out onto the floor.
A punch landed against his ribs, knocking the breath from his lungs, but Cochise didn’t let go of the gun, he spun and shoved the hand holding the gun against the edge of the stall.
The gun clattered away.
More punches hit his sides—much good that did, because his Kevlar vest took the blows—but Cochise couldn’t end this while all he held was Pinter’s hand. He jerked Pinter forward then backed him into the shower stall, crushing him against the tile with his body, unable to turn because he still held his own weapon outstretched. With his elbow, he beat backwards, catching Pinter in his sides.
Searing pain in the corner of his shoulder sucked away what was left of his breath. “Motherfucker, did you bite me?”
He beat back his elbow and aimed a backward kick at a knee.
The lights to the bathroom flashed on.
Sky filled the doorway, his glance taking in the gun on the floor. He moved forward and reached out. Gladly, Cochise gave him his weapon, and then turned and pummeled Pinter, clipping him in the jaw, the ribs, then giving him another punch to the jaw.
As Randy Pinter sagged toward the gray stone floor of the shower, Cochise kept his fists balled. But Pinter’s eyelids lowered, and his jaw relaxed.
A clap against his shoulder made him wince. “Think we have him,” Sky said.
Cochise lowered his eyebrows. “We?”
Sky grinned. “Hey, I freed your hand.”
“Fucker.”
“Tell me that wasn’t satisfying.”
Cochise grunted.
Just then, Jamie rounded the corner, two deputies crowding in behind her. One tall, burly male and a female with scraped back hair and angry eyes.
Suddenly, the spacious bathroom was too crowded.
“Do we have to call an ambulance?” Jamie asked.
Sky leaned over Pinter and ran his hands over his body, doing a quick search for weapons. When he straightened, he aimed a kick at his hip.
Pinter stirred and moaned.
“Nope, he’s conscious,” Sky said, his mouth curving into a smirk. “Jail’s just fifteen minutes away. They can take him to the ER to be checked out.”
Cochise bent and rested his hands on his knees, dragging in deep breaths to clear his head of the anger still pounding through him.
Jamie came up beside him and plucked at the neck of his tee. “Too bad he didn’t get a mouthful of Kevlar. That has to hurt. Buddy, you might need stiches. Sky and I will make sure this one gets to jail. Your vehicle’s still back at the office; I can have Lacey take you to the ER.”
Cochise straightened, inwardly cursing the fact his truck was back at the agency parking lot. He’d ridden with Sky and Jamie on the way over.
“I’d love to,” Lacey said, her blonde head peering around the corner, “but I can’t wait on you. Dagger and I have to drive to Whitefish to meet up with Reaper. He texted that he’s found Wallace’s hideout.” She gave a hundred-watt smile. “We’re riding into the mountains on horseback.”
Jamie groaned. “Good Lord. Last time Reaper was on horseback, he nearly drowned in a stock pond.”
“You can drop me at my truck. I can get myself to the ER,” Cochise said, and warmed to the idea. Anything to avoid listening to Dagger give Bounty Hunter Barbie another long lesson about how not to get killed doing her job. “You two need to get on the road, or you won’t get any rest.”
A throat cleared to his right. The female deputy’s frown was fierce, but she lifted her chin. “I can drop you, but I won’t wait around.”
He nodded. From her expression, she was about as thrilled with the idea as he was. She’d dump him at the entrance, and he’d be on his own. The way he liked it. “Suits me fine. And I appreciate it.”
In Dark Warlord, my story in the absolutely awesome Alien Alphas box set, the Barbarian Warlord hero, Batu, battles Genine, the warrior heroine, in the fighting ring. This might not seem like a great premise for a SciFi romance. The hero is battling the heroine. One of them might die.
I think it is super hot. During the battle, the two of them are focused fully on that moment, on each other, noting the look in their opponent’s eyes, the way her feet are placed, the heaving of his chest. It’s physical. There’s touching, the bumping of bodies, the slap of skin against skin. The hero grunts with exertion. The heroine is covered with the sheen of sweat. The passion from the fight quickly flows into another type of passion.
There have been some great female vs. male fights in fiction, on TV, and in the movies. Three of my favorite fight scenes in movies also have that ‘will they kiss or won’t they?’ tension in them.
The T-850 vs T-X battle in Terminator 3 was awesome. They were breaking down walls, setting off sprinklers, trying to set faces on fire. I knew they were enemies and more machine than human but I really wanted them to have sexy times.
The fight scenes in Mr. & Mrs. Smith were so steamy; I think we all predicted Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie would be more than friends. When he does that ‘come fight me’ flick of the fingers and she absolutely gives it to him, my toes curled. And then that hot kiss after the gun standoff? That was Sexy with a capital ‘S.’
Hawkeye and Black Widow’s fight scene in The Avengers also got my heart pumping. He pulls her hair. She bites him. Their bodies were pressed together during the standoffs. I thought, for certain, he’d kiss her (but he, unfortunately, didn’t).
Those are three of my favorite female vs male fight scenes in movies. What are yours?
Fierce warriors. Savage barbarians. Powerful warlords. All ready to claim their mates.
Alien Alphas is a collection of panty-melting sci-fi romances, featuring dominant alien heroes, penned by New York Times, USA Today, and international bestselling authors. This decadently naughty box set includes twenty-three ALL-NEW, stand-alone novellas full of hot alien alpha males, breathless passion, and reluctant surrender. Take an exhilarating trip beyond the stars with this limited time only bundle that’s sure to leave you turning the pages late into the night.
Featured authors:Cari Silverwood, Cynthia Sax, Renee Rose, Lee Savino, Addison Cain, Kallista Dane, Maren Smith, Ava Sinclair, Sue Lyndon, Emily Tilton, Ashe Barker, Korey Mae Johnson, Grace Goodwin, Ivy Barrett, Jane Henry, Jaye Peaches, Katie Douglas, Lili Zander, Loki Renard, Maria Monroe, Megan Michaels, Myra Danvers, Sara Fields, and Sophie Kisker Publisher’s Note: The stories featured in this collection involve MF and MFM pairings. They include spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this box set.
USA Today bestselling author Cynthia Sax writes contemporary, SciFi and paranormal erotic romances. Her stories have been featured in Star Magazine, Real Time With Bill Maher, and numerous best of erotic romance top ten lists.
Can you tell I’m jumping up and down? No? Well, if my foot wasn’t sore, I would be! My baby is out in the world today, and I can’t wait until you read it! After you do (see that note of positivity?), I would love to hear what you think! And if you have time, consider leaving a review. Other readers will depend on what you say to make a decision about buying my book. Your opinion matters. Okay, enough from me. Enjoy a peek inside Reaper, and don’t forget to enter the contest!
Former Marine, Reaper Stenberg is a bounty hunter, running his own satellite agency of Montana Bounty Hunters, along with his partner, Jamie Burke. As a general rule, Reaper doesn’t like working with a partner, especially female partners. When chasing a bail-jumper, he prefers to keep his head down and follow the leads. He doesn’t like the “chatter” that usually accompanies working with a woman.
However, partnering with Jamie has taught him a few things. There are women who can focus on the job at hand without letting silly distractions get in the way of his concentration. Jamie is one of those rare creatures who doesn’t gossip, doesn’t get into his business, and can actually be useful when shit goes sideways and they have to get physical. Over the months since their boss, Fetch Winter, put them together, Reaper has come to admire the woman’s grit and ingenuity.
And then Jamie up and gets busy planning her wedding…
See what happens when Reaper has to deal with a ride-along author, Carly Wyatt, who—when shit goes sideways—proves his first female partner’s grit and ingenuity aren’t just lucky happenstance, and who challenges Reaper’s strict relationship rules.
Win an Amazon gift card!Because I believe in the power of things said out loud, I’d love for you to say something out loud—or at least in the comments below—about how you feel readers will embrace my bounty hunters!And because I’m already looking for more Montana Bounty Hunter character names, I want you to take a turn naming them! I already have Reaper, Dagger, and Fetch. They always have macho nicknames that mean they’re either big and badass or there’s no escaping them. So, give it a try and maybe you’ll win!
Read an Excerpt!
As a general rule, Reaper Stenberg didn’t like working with a partner, especially female partners. When chasing a target, he preferred to keep his head down and follow the leads. He didn’t like the “chatter” that usually accompanied being paired with a woman.
However, partnering with Jamie Burke had taught him a few things. Women existed who could focus on the job at hand without letting silly distractions get in the way of his concentration. Jamie was one of those rare creatures who didn’t gossip, didn’t mess in his business, and could actually be useful when shit went sideways and they had to get physical. Her methods for subduing a target weren’t ones he’d ever employ, but she knew how to compensate for her smaller frame and lesser strength. Over the months since their boss, Fetch Winter, had put them together, Reaper came to admire the woman’s grit and ingenuity.
Case in point was their present predicament.
No, this time she hadn’t tripped bail jumper, Mark Rebos, with a Jackie Chan move, and no, she hadn’t gripped his balls and twisted so hard he begged for mercy. This time—while she’d run all out—she locked a cuff on her right wrist, jumped onto his back, and snagged his right with the other cuff. Now, they faced each other, squinting in the rain and ankle-deep in mud, and Rebos couldn’t swing without dragging her closer.
The big man looked ready to explode. His pockmarked face was red, and his eyes bugged. Although Rebos was six inches taller than Jamie, and outweighed her by about eighty pounds, Reaper’s money was in Jamie. Read the rest of this entry »
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