I sent this out in my newsletter this morning, so if you’re getting this a second time—sorry!

It’s April Fools’ Day! It’s also Friday, and maybe you’re getting ready to download a story and meet your new weekend Book-Boyfriend. Well, I have a suggestion for you. Troy Barlow is a firefighter, who will fall like a ton of bricks when he meets the right woman. He’s sexy, funny, brave. Everything you could want in a BBF.

I reduced the price for this weekend only!! You’ll save $2 if you pick up your copy now! Read the excerpt below for a peek inside the fun you’ll have!

Happy Reading!
~DD

Flashpoint

Flashpoint
A Cowboys on the Edge Story

His touch makes her burn…

Troy Barlow wasn’t looking for love when he competed in the Texas Tough Firefighting Competition, but one feisty little blonde caught his attention and wouldn’t let go. The more she tried to deflect him, the more determined he became to make an impression, until he did something she couldn’t possibly ignore.

The last thing Diana Boyle expected to feel was attraction for another firefighter. After her husband’s death, she’d been adamant — never another firefighter. But Troy was impossible to escape. When he wore down her resolve, she thought a one-night-stand might purge him from her system once and for all, but his powerful appeal and uninhibited lust and zest for life were addictive. When a harrowing fire threatens their newfound happiness, Diana has to face her worst fears.

Get your reduced-price copy at one of these vendors now!

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Apple

Excerpt from Flashpoint…

Every time he’d finished an event, he’d searched, encouraged when he found her looking his way, even if she did immediately give him her back or pretend she wasn’t staring.

He guessed he wasn’t hard to miss. Even in a crowd. Besides his large frame, he was extremely athletic. A ringer, some of the firehouses had complained good-naturedly to his chief. Which was true, he’d competed nationally in other firefighter challenges and placed. But this weekend wasn’t about trophies or blue ribbons, the competition was about raising money for the Fallen Firefighters Fund. Chief Thacker had told his crew not to embarrass him, placing would be nice, but having fun and making sure the people attending enjoyed themselves was the highest priority.

Troy had already done his part, winning the ladder competition—his score seconds faster than Cade’s score climbing a ladder up a tower of scaffolding. He’d helped his team secure second in the hose relay, where firefighters representing their houses ran with fire hoses, extending them as fast as they could to the next firefighter on the track, who then had to run with his own section of hose toward the finish line. Yeah, he’d more than done his part. And while he was pretty sure he could blow through the competition during this final event, he didn’t think his boss would mind if he broke the rules and disqualified himself—all in the name of giving the crowd something they’d love.

At last, his turn arrived to stand behind the starting line, this time beside Kole. There being only two Rescue Randy dolls meant only two firefighters could compete at one time. The goal was to lift the weighted doll and drag it to “safety” a hundred feet to the finish line. Troy eyed the doll lying on the ground in front of him and smirked.

“Don’t think I’m making this easy for you,” Kole said.

Troy fought to keep his voice even. “Oh, I know you can give me some competition. Just don’t break your stride over anything I might do.”

Kole shook his head and laughed. “Already making excuses for why I’m gonna smoke your ass?”

“Just saying,” Troy said, grinning. He shot a look at the blonde woman’s table. Her gaze widened when it locked with his. Did instinct tell her she ought to run? He hoped so.

A shot rang out, and Kole leapt forward to pick up his doll, tucking his hands under its armpits and shuffling backwards down the track.

Troy turned and darted into the crowd, heading straight for the woman’s refreshment table.

“And we have a firefighter who’s a little directionally challenged,” drawled the commentator over the loudspeaker.

Troy didn’t break stride, leaping over duffels and hoses, his gaze on his prize.

His prey’s eyes widened farther, and she pushed up from her chair, her head turning left and right as though making sure she really was his quarry. Her delayed reaction gave him time to catch her. He planted a hand on her shoulder, turned her gently, then bent and pushed his shoulder against her soft belly.

With a yelp, she folded over his shoulder and grabbed for his waistband to steady herself, because he was already straightening and turning. From the corner of his eye, he noted the firefighters from San Angelo beginning to stand, hands fisted as they moved to cut him off, but he was closer to the track, and definitely more determined. He reached up to pat her bottom. “Hold on tight. I’ll try not to bounce you too much, sweetheart.” With laughter ringing out among the onlookers, he jogged behind Kole who shook his head and continued dragging the dummy down the track.

“Seriously, bro?” Kole shouted out.

“Put me down, idiot!” came the sweet, chopped voice of his victim.

“Can’t now, hon. I’m committed. You really should have told me your name. We’d have shook hands, I’d have asked you for your number and a date—”

“I would have said no!”

He laughed, not the least disappointed. She acted as he’d expected. “And that would have been okay. Not that I would have given up.” He slowed his pace, not wanting the race to end too quickly.

Kole laughed too hilariously to threaten anyone’s time. At the moment, he was bent over the doll he’d dropped as he held his sides.

Troy was nearly running in place, doing his best to drag out his rescue. “Yeah, I’d have called, and when you blocked my number, I would have shown up at your job and sweet-talked all your friends into telling me where to find you.”

She wiggled on his shoulder, pinched his sides. “You’re just a stalker! A freaking perv.”

Only he noted that she didn’t sound very outraged. Instead, she sounded like she was choking. Was she laughing? He grinned.

“And you’re a liar. There’s no way you could find out where I live or work.”

“Sweetheart, I have friends with badges. I’d have followed you to your car, got your plate number—”

“That’s illegal. Officers wouldn’t just run a plate like that.”

“I’d have said you stole something. That I saw a pretty girl carrying it away. And hey, I did my civic duty and wrote down her license plate…”

“Oh yeah? And what did I steal?”

Pretending to stumble, he patted her ass again. “You don’t know what you took?”

This time laughter shook her frame. “You’re a jerk.”

“That’s okay. You’re a thief.” He crossed the line behind Kole and turned toward the crowd, holding out his arms and raising his hands, still balancing her slim body on one shoulder.

The crowd roared, but her friends moved in on him, their faces tight and red. He figured he needed her help to keep this friendly and slowly bent, lowering her to the ground.

She shook back her hair and met his gaze. “What did I take?” she asked, her face reddened, her expression a mixture of embarrassment and something kind of…poignant.

Troy hated to end the moment. She deserved a truthful answer. Instead, he reached for her shoulders and turned her toward her friends, then wrapped an arm around her middle and pulled her against his side. “Don’t suppose you could tell them we planned this, huh?”

She gave a breathless laugh and cocked an eyebrow. “Think it would help? They look pretty pissed.”

“Maybe they’d believe it, if…” Knowing he gambled but couldn’t resist, he turned her again, bent with her, and then brushed her mouth with his.

The crowd roared their approval.

He glanced toward her friends who’d slowed their stomps, deep frowns lessening as her hands rose to grip his shoulders. And for a moment, he forgot this was just a way to blow off steam, to teach her a little lesson in good dating manners. Forgotten was the crowd. His boss. Her friends. His attention narrowed to the soft lips moving beneath his, the small hands kneading his shoulders.

UPDATE: The winners are…Laura and Tanya!
*~*~*

Is that big enough of a hint? 🙂

Yes, both here on my blog and in the informal poll I ran on FB, cowboys won! So, the next anthology will be filled with yummy cowboy goodness. Thanks to everyone who voted! I won’t overrule your voices. This time. *snickers*

So, since I’m here, and I just shared a lovely photo of a cowboy riding into the sunset, let’s play a game…

Contest — Tell me a story!

Based on the photo above, tell me a story. It can be one line. It doesn’t have to be a good story. You can have fun with it! But tell me something and you’ll be entered to win your choice from among my latest cowboy series, Cowboys on the Edge. I’ll choose two winners!

Click on the covers to learn more about the stories!

UPDATE: The winner is Katherine Robinson!

* * * * *

My daughter has perfect teeth. Not a cavity. Not ever. Thanks to genetics and modern dentistry. I, on the other hand, have horrible teeth. I have soft, chalky back teeth, prone to cavities. Which means, I have a few crowns back there. Last night, while I sat on my daughter’s sofa, she of the perfect teeth, one of my crowns fell out. Do you know, I had that one so long, I didn’t even know there was a crown on that tooth. Color me surprised!

Which really makes today a shitty, shitty day. I am going to call the dentist this AM to request an emergency appointment. This afternoon, I have a doctor’s appointment at the VA in Little Rock (oh joy). I had hoped for a little time to write. Now, I have a microscopic window open to write. So, I have a related question. Comment and you might win a free story! Don’t you love how I work real life around to having something to do with books? 🙂

For a chance to win your choice of one of these
Cowboys on the Edge stories, answer me this!

Do you have perfect teeth? Have you ever had a dental emergency?

(Click on a cover if you’d like to learn more!)

Don’t know what you’re missing in this cowboy series? Read a sexy excerpt…

Controlled Burn

This flame doesn’t need a match…

One high school prank gone wrong shouldn’t define the rest of Carly Lohan’s life. But setting fire to Caldera Canyon isn’t something townsfolk will ever forget. As the last part of her final act of restitution, she’s among the group of volunteers assigned to keep a prescribed burn of underbrush and grass from “running over the rim” into the ranches ringing the park.

Local rancher and volunteer firefighter Jeremiah McCord doesn’t trust the reformed firebug anywhere near the canyon’s controlled burn. Determined to keep her on a short rein, he’s everywhere she is, watching her. His distrust and determination sparks a plan for some sexy revenge—one that will get them both too close to the flames.

Get your copy here!

Long excerpt from Controlled Burn

Caldera, Texas had been aptly named by its founders. Although technically late winter, the air was unseasonably warm—hot as a witch’s cauldron, and the town just as cursed.

Or, at least the place was so far as Carly Lohan was concerned.

Carly closed her car door and drew a deep breath, thinking she’d as soon have a root canal as walk into the midst of the people gathering inside the community center. All gazes would turn her way. They’d nudge their friends, and the ugly whispers would begin.

She might as well have had a big “A” branded on her forehead, but not for adultery like Hester Prynne—her crime was far worse. Arson wasn’t something folks around here would ever forgive.

Not that she thought of herself as an arsonist. However, a charge like that, even against a minor, clung like skunk spray. Which was why she’d headed to college as soon as she’d graduated high school and now lived a town away. Tonight, she had to face Calderans one last time.

Gripping her purse like it was a shield, she strode toward the door. Before she even reached the steps, she heard a whistle sound from behind her.

“Well, would you lookie there. If it ain’t Carly Lohan. Long time, no see.”

If she were ninety, she would have recognized Tater Johnson’s nasal twang. He’d taunted from her first day in kindergarten and had been the biggest thorn in her side all throughout school. The fact she was here today was partly because of him. She forced a smile and turned. “Good to see you, Tater.”

He smoked a cigarette while sitting on the edge of his truck bed. “Burn up any canyons lately?” he drawled.

Wow. He didn’t even take a second to work up to that. Carly stopped the automatic wince before he could see it. The last thing she should do was rise to a single one of his taunts. “Not lately. You going to the meeting?” she asked, tilting her head toward the open doors.

“Course.” He tipped back his cowboy hat and gave her a narrowed stare. “Keepin’ Caldera Canyon safe is important to me—which is why I’m wonderin’ what the hell you’re doin’ here.”

Carly felt her face heat. Before she could think of a more mature reply, she shot him the bird and turned on her heel. Good Lord, she’d only been back for five minutes and was already reverting to her old ways.

His grating chuckles followed her inside the large hall. The instant satisfaction she’d felt at giving the rude gesture faded as she entered and searched the rows of metal folding chairs. All seats were taken—of course, except for a couple right in front of the speakers’ table. Shit.

She didn’t have a choice. She’d be sitting across from the current sheriff of Caldera County. Her gaze snagged on the man sitting beside him, Jeremiah McCord, and her stomach sank at the glare he leveled. Shit-shit-shit.

Only to herself would she admit the man intimidated her. He was a large man—well over six feet and broad. And he was handsome when his features weren’t set into grim lines as they were now.

“Let’s call this meeting to order,” a man dressed in a park ranger’s uniform said. “We’re all here to talk about the prescribed burn we’re implementing inside the park four days from now.”

She turned her attention to the speaker. At least, he wasn’t staring at her. She didn’t know him, so she kept her gaze glued to the ranger as he started the slide show.

Pictures of happy campers sitting around campfires flashed on the screen, followed by more photos of the rugged bluffs surrounding the park. “Our goal, come Monday morning, will be to burn brush and dried vegetation from the canyon floor, while keeping the fire under control and halting it before the blaze runs the rim of the canyon, endangering local ranches. We won’t touch the areas around the campgrounds or the park service buildings. Those have been kept clear of excess brush by camp personnel. We’re focusing our efforts on the areas north of the campgrounds, through the upper canyon, toward the north rim of the park.”

The next picture was of a jackrabbit hiding in the brush. “A prescribed burn is good for the canyon’s plants and trees, and for its wildlife. By removing underbrush and new seedlings, we give the forest a chance to grow and deprive wildfires of fuel.”

The next photo was of rows of volunteers digging firebreaks, with flames licking across dry grass. The flames blazed orange, yellow, purple—so pretty—she couldn’t stop herself from startling when the slide changed to a photograph of those same volunteers, covered in soot, but smiling as they stood in front of a scorched patch of earth, trees with their bark only slightly singed.

“This is the outcome we want. A safe burn. A way to renew the earth and prevent uncontrolled blazes in the future…”

Carly drew a deep breath, and then made the mistake of again looking at Jeremiah. His gaze bored into her, cold and hard. Had he seen how the picture of the fire held her mesmerized? Her stomach tightened, and she felt a little sick.

Keeping her expression neutral, she returned his stare. She wasn’t that same reckless girl. She’d done her penance, and then some. Performing this last act of restitution would expunge her juvenile record, and she could function without worrying someone would discover her past mistake. She could submit a job application without her hand shaking, because she feared a background check would reveal her crime. And maybe she could finally make use of her teaching degree.

Thank God, she didn’t have to work around here. Jeremiah would consider it his civic duty to make sure everyone kept a close eye on her. He wasn’t exactly the most forgiving man, and if she couldn’t find a better job, she’d never be able to repay him for what he’d lost.

The rest of the presentation droned on and on. The park ranger was followed by the local fire chief, and then the park service expert they’d brought in to help supervise the burn. She tried to pay attention, but felt as though a hundred accusing fingers were pointed at her back. So she sat rigid in her seat, arms crossed, waiting for the briefing to end. She’d get her team assignment and head back to the motel where she’d left her suitcase. Then she could close her door and sleep until Saturday’s training.

Seven years hadn’t been nearly long enough to ease the feeling of guilt that weighed her down. Moving away had helped her live a more normal life, but she’d had these little reminders every so often, part of the deal the judge had made with her to protect her future. Participating in the controlled burn inside the park would be the last time Calderans would have to suffer her presence. And she theirs.

At last, the park ranger turned off the projector. Everyone rose and made their way to the board where team assignments were listed.

She waited patiently while being jostled—probably deliberately. At last, she scanned the list.

Her name was listed on a team of ten—and led by Jeremiah McCord. Shit.

Read the rest of this entry »

UPDATE: The winner of the free download is…Charlotte!

* * * * *

My alarm went off today (yes, I do still use one on occasion to push my ass out of bed!), and I had the horrible thought, Jesus, can I call in sick? For a second there, I thought I had a day job. Next thought was, God, do I have something to wear I don’t have to iron? It was only after I’d sat on the edge of the bed to swipe my cellphone screen that I remembered—Oh, yeah! My job’s waiting for me in the next room! 

For a chance to win your choice of one of these Cowboys on the Edge stories, answer me this!

Do you set alarms? Do you have to set more than one?

(Click on a cover if you’d like to learn more!)

Don’t know what you’re missing in this cowboy series? Read a sexy excerpt…

Cain’s Law

When love is on the line, a cowboy will risk everything…

Texas Lawman, Cain Whitfield, has been burned before by a beautiful brunette with dark doe eyes. He won’t be fooled again. But fate has a rotten sense of humor when he discovers the latest stranger to arrive in his small Texas town is a former mob enforcer’s girlfriend–something he learns when the cabin she rented goes up in flames and her boyfriend tries to run them both off the road. Now, he’s got to keep her alive and under wraps long enough to arrest the bastard. Resisting his attraction to the drop-dead gorgeous brunette proves impossible when they’re forced to share a safe house while the sheriff and the other deputies double patrols to keep her safe.

Even though she knows they’re all wrong for each other, Carina Black can’t help her attraction for the proud lawman. She’s done with the glitz and glamour of her former life, but can she convince Cain to look beyond her past to trust she’s ready for life in a small town? As her former boyfriend closes in, she worries too that her poor judgment could bring harm to a decent man.

The longer they’re together, the hotter their passion burns…

Get your copy here!

She tugged her hand away then straightened her shoulders. “I’ll go. I know it’s the smart thing to do, and you’ve already done so much. But, I have to know…”

Cain felt his belly tighten in rejection, because if she asked, he’d tell her. And God help them both.

Her gaze dropped to her hands, which were curved into fists on her thighs. “Do you… could you ever…see yourself with someone like me?”

“Dammit, Carina,” he said, his voice rasping. “You’re so damn young.”

Her chin shot up, and her eyes flashed. “Too young for you?”

“Fuck, you deserve better than me.” His jaw clenched.

“If you’re looking for excuses for me to go, that’s not the best one to use. I’ve had money. I wore clothes that I would bet cost more than you make in a month. But, I wasn’t happy. And I didn’t like me.” She dipped her chin. “I feel safe with you.”

“I can’t be your bodyguard. Not forever.”

“I’m not talking about that. I feel safe—I know you won’t hurt me. That you won’t hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it.” She lifted her gaze, locking it with his. “I can’t imagine letting anyone else touch me.” She stopped short and turned away her head.

Cain sat beside her, not breathing. She’d imagined him touching her. She’d flirted. Outrageously, but he hadn’t taken her behavior seriously.

She’d imagined being with him.

Cain straightened. What he should do was tell her she’d find another man. Someone good. Someone who could give her things. But his nobility could only stretch so far. He reached for her hand, but she pulled it back again, so he gripped her by the waist and pulled her over his lap.

Her body shivered against him. Her palms pushed against his chest.

He kept his arms around her, loosely. She could escape if she wanted, but with every second that passed, he watched her grow calmer. Watched rose creep across her cheeks, her tight lips relax.

When she leaned toward him, letting her ripe nipples scrape across his chest, only then did he move. He laid his palm against her cheek and rubbed his thumb across her plump bottom lip. “Stay with me.”

Carina made a noise, something between a sob and laugh, and pressed closer, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and pushing her breasts against him, because she needed to feel his hardness. She craved so much more. Had since she’d lain alone that first night with the sounds of him walking circles around the house, knowing he would keep her safe. Alone with the smell of his lovely, manly musk on the sheets, she’d let that feeling grow over the past days, wondering whether this was how being in love felt. His care for her was as close as she’d ever experienced to being cherished. But since he hadn’t acted on any of the many invitations she’d offered with her eyes and “accidental” peeks at her ass, she’d begun to wonder if he considered her damaged goods—because of whom she’d lived with and what he’d done.

But there wasn’t any mistaking the look he gave her now with those clear blue eyes. No misunderstanding his raw tone. Stay with me. Before she’d let him reconsider, she reached for the hem of the tee she’d ruined with paint and pulled it over her head.

His gaze fell to her full breasts. “Jesus.”

“They ache, Cain. I ache. For you.” She felt breathless. Her heart skittered wildly.

Slowly, he raised his hands to palm her flesh, and she closed her eyes, loving the heat, loving his gentle caresses.

He bent his head and trailed his mouth across her shoulder, then lower, pushing her back so he could kiss the tops of her breasts. The moment he latched onto a tingling nipple, she cried out, so joyous was the feeling flooding her body with warmth.

Suddenly, he drew back. His hands gripped her bottom, and he rose.

She wound her legs around his waist as he walked to the bed. “I’ll get paint on your sheets,” she whispered.

“We’ll both get dirty, sweetheart. I’m not worried.” He set her down beside the bed then knelt to open her jeans and slide them down her legs.

Nude, she held her breath as he glanced at her sex.

His gaze dropped to her feet, and he held down her pant legs as she stepped out, leaning on his shoulders for balance. Then he stood, and she went to work on the chambray shirt he wore, unsnapping the buttons down the front, and then parting the sides to get her first look at his broad chest. He had far less hair than Joey, and it was brown and silky. She raked her fingertips through it, plucking. When he gave a little groan, her mouth curved. So, she nuzzled his nipple, loving the way he gently cupped the back of her head and rubbed her scalp. Lord have mercy, she loved the taste of his skin, the soft texture of his flat brown nipple. With her teeth, she teased it into a point then fluttered her tongue against the tiny bead.

“Witch,” he muttered.

She glanced upward, her gaze snagging on his hooded eyes. “I want you, Cain. All of you.” She backed away, sitting on the edge of the bed before lying full-length and stretching, her gaze going to his still-clothed body.

He didn’t need another hint. His clothing flew off. And then he was climbing over her, his large, long body inches from her skin, but still warming her, breast to toes.

He held still, braced on his arms as she raked his body with her searching gaze. Everywhere her gaze touched was tanned and hard. His stomach was firm, muscled, his arms and thighs bulged. Sweet heaven, his cock was lovely—reddened and engorged, straight with a plump, round head.

Her pussy clenched. Fluid rushed to wet her channel. She squeezed together her legs to hold it inside.

“I don’t want to scare you, baby.”

“I’m not a baby, Cain. And Joey humiliated me, but he didn’t leave me damaged. I swear, I want this. I want you.” Slowly, caught in his intense gaze, she inched apart her legs and raised her knees. Then she reached downward and wrapped her fingers around his cock. “Come inside me, Cain Whitfield,” she whispered. “Fill me.”

On Tuesday, this cowboy story releases. It’s a “new-old” story—one I wrote way back when, and which was published with a now-defunct publisher. You may not know of its existence, so it’s “new”! 🙂 Pre-order now so you don’t forget! Then play along with me.

If you’d like to win a free story from my current cowboy series, Cowboys on the Edge, find the answers to the following questions and send the answers in an email to me at delilah@delilahdevlin.com. DO NOT SHARE YOUR ANSWERS IN THE COMMENTS BELOW! This contest will run through Tuesday, and I’ll select two winners!

Here are the questions. Some are general knowledge. Some are specific to my series, and the answers can be found by simply reading the short descriptions of the books. Just so you don’t have to surf too far, here’s the Cowboys on the Edge page.

Name the following!

1. leather “sleeves” worn by cowboys to protect their legs
2. a loop of rope intended for capture and restraint
3. famous brand of cowboy hats that starts with “s”
4. the state where the Cowboys on the Edge series is set
5. last name of the fire chief in Caldera, Texas
6. someone who sets fires for personal gratification (use word in story blurb!)
7. first name of lawman who saves a mobster’s girlfriend
8. title of the latest story in the series
9. a cowboy’s seat on a horse
10. a cowboy’s shiniest accessory
11. device placed in a horse’s mouth
12. loop that holds the feet of a rider
13. a deep cleft in the earth

So, was that fun? A pain-in-the-ass? Would you like to see more scavenger hunts?

Enjoy your weekend! ~DD

UPDATE: The winner of the free prequel story is…Enikö!

* * * * *

So, last Saturday, I had this story come out called Flashpoint. It features two of my favorite things—a firefighter from down in Texas. I loved writing Troy Barlow. He’s a hero who doesn’t take himself too seriously, but he’s strong at his core, playful when he’s bent on seduction, and just plain yummy. I’ll share an excerpt below so you can see just what I mean.

I’m trying to get out the word about this story, and I could use your help. It’s easy, just two clicks really, starting with clicking on this link: Thunderclap.

Thanks for doing that! One more thing you need to know about Flashpoint, it’s the fourth story in a series of related, but standalone stories. The first three books are also in Kindle Unlimited, which means if you have a subscription, they are all FREE!

Here’s the three stories. You can click on the covers if you’re interested in more sexy adventures featuring men with badges and suspenders…

And if you’re not a KU subscriber, but would like to win a copy of one of these prequel stories, leave a comment for a chance to win! Tell me whether you love Texas settings, and what you might like to see from me in the future!

Flashpoint

His touch makes her burn…

Troy Barlow wasn’t looking for love when he competed in the Texas Tough Firefighting Competition, but one feisty little blonde caught his attention and wouldn’t let go. The more she tried to deflect him, the more determined he became to make an impression, until he did something she couldn’t possibly ignore.

The last thing Diana Boyle expected to feel was attraction for another firefighter. After her husband’s death, she’d been adamant–never another firefighter. But Troy was impossible to escape. When he wore down her resolve, she thought a one-night-stand might purge him from her system once and for all, but his powerful appeal and uninhibited lust and zest for life were addictive. When a harrowing fire threatens their newfound happiness, Diana has to face her worst fears.

Get your copy here!

Excerpt

They’re naked and standing in front of the bathroom mirror…

Another shiver traveled down Diana’s spine. She’d never seen a look quite like the one Troy wore now. Ravenous. Wild. His blue irises had nearly been consumed by his black pupils. His jaw was tight; his skin stretched over his cheekbones. And every part of him that touched her was hard. The arm clamped over her breasts. The chest pressed against her back. The cock lodged between the globes of her ass.

She’d wanted uncomplicated sex. Maybe a little gymnastic, too. But this was a whole other prospect. Troy was set to turn her inside out, and she was worried she wouldn’t be enough to satisfy him.

Her sex life with Mike had been…nice. Happy. Comfortable. But the emotions Troy aroused in her now were anything but.

His intense expression said he’d allow no modesty. No holding back.

As if she could. Already her sex was damp, her labia swelling. Her nipples had sprung instantly when cool hair had hit them, and now ached pressed against his arm.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he growled into her ear.

“Like what?” she asked, gasping when he bit her lobe.

“Like I’m the big bad wolf.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Then why are you shaking?”

She widened her gaze, locking with his in the mirror and licked her bottom lip. “Because I’m dying to feel you inside me,” she whispered.

He groaned and his arm moved downward, fingers sliding between her legs to feather across her slit. “You’re wet for me.”

Diana leaned her head against his shoulder and reached back both hands to grab his ass. It was hard, no give at all. She dug her nails into his skin.

He slipped a finger into her pussy and swirled it.

She turned her head to hide her expression as she drew a hissing breath between her teeth. More fluid greeted him, wetting his hand, sliding down her thigh.

“I’m gonna lick that all up.”

Once corner of her mouth kicked up as she wrinkled her nose. “Big talk for a man who can’t seem to find his own bed.”

“I’ll get there. Promise.” But instead of leading her into his room, he reset his feet farther apart, lowering his height, and pushed his cock between her legs. Now she could see him there, sliding through her folds, his big fat head appearing then disappearing, as he stroked forward and back. A crude image that made her nipples harden.

She couldn’t stand the tingling there and cupped her breasts, playing with the tips. His gaze dropped to watch, and he tucked a finger into the top of her folds to circle her clitoris.

She jerked because the nubbin was already hard and engorged. The hood had slipped away. His raspy fingertip touched it directly, and she wasn’t sure she could take much more until he raised his finger, wet it with his tongue, and resumed his teasing motions.

“Troy,” she groaned, arching her back and reaching now to clutch his hair. She pulled as she began to writhe against him, loving the slide of his thick cock, the scrape of his finger. She could come like this, but she wanted more. Wanted him deep. Wanted to be so full and stretched she didn’t remember who she was or the fact this wasn’t something lasting.

Troy removed his hands then tugged on her hair and pulled back her head. Coming around her, he kissed her hard, then walked her backward, his arms surrounding her, guiding her, until her thighs hit the mattress, and she fell back.

Then he was on her, not allowing her to scoot deeper onto the mattress. With her legs hanging over the side, she watched breathlessly as he knelt between her legs and set her thighs on his shoulders.

“Too much,” she said, shielding her pussy with her hand. Too embarrassing. Too intimate. Him there, seeing everything in the lamplight.

But he ignored her, nipping her fingers until she withdrew them. Then he pulled her labia into his mouth, sucked on them, chewed them gently, getting them wet and engorged. When she was ready to scream, he backed off to blow cool streams of air over her hot flesh.

Then he parted her folds, tugging them upward to expose her clit. She groaned again and closed her eyes, refusing to watch him because it was so much dirtier to see what he did than simply feel.

He rubbed his cheeks and chin in her wet folds, the scrape of his beard itchy and exciting. Then he flattened his tongue and licked her up and down, making sure to pay more attention to the tight, hot bud at the top.

Before long, Diana rocked her head side to side and tapped his back with her heels, while she moaned and shrieked, because he surprised her, licking her, then biting her, stroking his fingers inside her pussy, teasing her asshole. Things she couldn’t prepare herself to accept because he never gave her warning.

“Bastard,” she gasped when his tongue dipped into her anus. This wasn’t happening, he wasn’t doing that.

In the next instant, she yelped because he stood and gripped her waist, shoving her toward the center of the bed, then climbing quickly over her.

When he lay atop her, his weight propped on his elbows, his cock resting on her mound, he smiled down at her. “I love the sounds you make. Do you know you chirp?”

“That was a squeal.”

“Sounded like a cricket.”

“You surprised me.”

He bent and flicked his tongue against her earlobe. “And what was that other sound. Sounded like a squeaky door.”

“It was a moan, you idiot, that you interrupted when you…did that thing.”

“That thing? Do you mean when I tongue-fucked your ass?”

She clapped her hand over his mouth. “Don’t say that. It never happened.”

He bit her fingers.

“Ouch!”

“Don’t get in the way.”

And then he was scooting downward, this time hovering over her breasts.

“They’re small,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“You could always gain fifty pounds. There’d be more.”

“You want me to gain fifty pounds to make my boobs bigger?”

“No, but if you want them bigger, I’m game. Just more of you to bounce against.”

She couldn’t help it. She laughed. “You say the most ridiculous things.”

“I like your tits,” he said, dropping a kiss on one distended nipple then the other.

“Good to know,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest because he was staring so intently.

He grabbed her arms and moved them to her sides. “Stop hiding.” He stuck out his tongue and licked around one dark circle. “You’re soft everywhere—but here the most,” he said, giving her another lick. Then he latched onto the tip and drew hard, like he was sucking a milkshake through a straw.

Her toes curled. More fluid trickled down her channel. “Troy, please.” She gripped his ears and pulled him.

He slid upward. His cock pushed against her folds, and he paused to reach downward and part them so that he could set his fat head against her opening. When he glanced toward her face, he gave her a tight smile. “Almost there. Think you’re ready?”

She shook her head. “Do you always talk this much during sex?”

“I don’t know. I tend to talk when I’m nervous.”

She canted her head. “You’re nervous about doing this with me?”

He nodded and gave her another quick smile. “You’re…so fucking sexy. Perfect. Still can’t believe you gave me the time of day, much less access to your pretty cunt.”

She smacked his shoulder.

He waggled his eyebrows.

“I’m older than you.”

“Are you?” he said, sounding surprised.

“Thirty-three.”

“Ancient!”

She smacked him again.

“And I’m twenty-eight. So, not a huge difference, babe.”

“Guess it doesn’t matter. It’s just sex.”

“And for that…” he pushed inside her, coming steadily up her channel, leaving her no chance to catch her breath, no time to get used to his size. He was just there. Deep inside her. His arms around her. His body over her. No escaping his steady gaze or the strength of will evident in his taut features.

She drew a ragged breath, widened her legs, then lifted her knees, easing them alongside his hips, hugging them, like she wanted to hug him, but couldn’t because her arms were trapped against his chest.

“This what you do when a girl pisses you off?” she asked.

“This what you want me to do?”

UPDATE: The winners are Roxie, Jackie Wisherd, and Joye!

* * * * *

What a treat to wake up this morning without wondering where I need to be or which kid I need to watch. Not that I don’t love them all, but it’s nice to be back in the saddle (er, in my padded executive chair in front of my desk). October will be busy, busy, busy! I hope I can keep up with the pace I’ve set for myself. If you see me out there tweeting or posting on Facebook, don’t be shy about nagging me to get my stories done! If you checked out yesterday’s post, you know what I’ll be working on. I shared covers for three different stories. Which story are you interested in reading the most?

Comment for a chance to win. There will be three winners!
One will win her choice of a Cowboys on the Edge story!

The other two will get their choice of a short story.
And if you haven’t read my shorties, check out the full list here!

Controlled Burn

This flame doesn’t need a match…

One high school prank gone wrong shouldn’t define the rest of Carly Lohan’s life. But setting fire to Caldera Canyon isn’t something townsfolk will ever forget. As the last part of her final act of restitution, she’s among the group of volunteers assigned to keep a prescribed burn of underbrush and grass from “running over the rim” into the ranches ringing the park.

Local rancher and volunteer firefighter Jeremiah McCord doesn’t trust the reformed firebug anywhere near the canyon’s controlled burn. Determined to keep her on a short rein, he’s everywhere she is, watching her. His distrust and determination sparks a plan for some sexy revenge—one that will get them both too close to the flames.

Get your copy here!

Carly wasn’t unaccustomed to hard work, but she’d never before used a pitchfork. The cowboy who’d set her on her task had called it a “shit fork”—before clearing his throat and explaining the implement was smaller than a regular pitchfork so that the balls of horse dung didn’t fall between the tines.

After mucking out the stalls, she’d forked a mini-mountain of horse manure and straw into the center of the barn. Now she was pitching load after load into the wheelbarrow so she could wheel it out and add it the larger mountain of dung behind the barn. Dung that was used in Mayra’s garden.

Before today, she’d never given much thought to horses, and she’d never had an aversion to the smell, but a day of forking poop had altered her view forever. Or so she told herself. She knew she must be a sight in her dirty jeans and tee. She’d forgotten to take off her gloves a time or two and used them wipe sweat from her face. Meaning she had to have some smeared on her cheek.

But she didn’t dare stop. Not and have the high-and-mighty Jeremiah shaking his head. The night before, he’d been so sure she’d balk at his list of chores. Little did he know, but she was used to hard work. Her foster families had made sure of it.

Still, she’d never mucked stalls, and the repetitive motions had tightened the muscles at the small of her back, and her upper arms until they felt bruised.  Pausing to stretch, she reached high, letting the hem of her shirt rise. The slight breeze blowing through the open barn doors wafted against her belly and felt almost luxurious.

“Looks like we’ll make a cowboy out of you yet.”

Carly dropped her arms and glanced over her shoulder. She’d missed Jeremiah at breakfast. Mayra told her he’d been up before dawn, as was his custom, to check on the herd. Carly hadn’t seen him since dinner the night before and dreaded their next encounter.

While her mind was made up to detest the man, her fickle body responded with a wave of heat that swept her cheeks and prickled her nipples. No man had a right to look that good when he was that dirty. “The cowboy who showed me how to muck out a stall asked me what I’d done to piss you off.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows rose. “And what did you say?”

“That I’d burned three hundred acres of hay and an expensive bailer. He said that’d do it.”

He gave his signature grunt.

Even though she’d told herself that morning she must have imagined its appeal, she still felt the pull deep in her core.

“You should take a break,” he said, his voice sounding gruff.

“Why? I’m not done.” Did he think she’d jump at the chance to not finish?

“The sun’s out, and the air’s warm in here, Carly. And it’s time for lunch. Someone else can finish up.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’ll have to bathe again.”

He came closer and picked a piece of straw from her hair. Then he rubbed her cheek.

An action that shocked her to her toes.

“I think you’ve picked up more than a little dirt,” he murmured.

Because she was nervous with him standing so close, she laughed. “I have shit on my face. You can say it.” She swept a hand toward his own dirty clothing. “I’ve been mucking stalls, what’s your excuse?”

A smile stretched across his face.

The first she’d ever seen. Her stomach flipped.

“I chased a calf into an arroyo. He got separated from his mama. Took some doing to get him up on the horse with me.”

“I’d have loved seeing that.” And she meant it. The thought of him chasing a calf on horseback—well hell, now she was romanticizing the surly cowboy.

One dark brow arched. “You would have loved seeing a calf getting the better of me?”

“Yeah.” Feeling breathless because he was still standing close, she had to remind herself he was only being polite. That he’d likely come to see whether she was still hard at work. She moved away to lean her fork against the barn wall. “I better go shower, or Mayra will light into me.”

“I better hit the shower, too.”

Walking away, Carly pursed her lips and blew out a hot stream of air. Him being civil was tough enough on her libido. Now she had the picture of a naked, wet Jeremiah in her head.

Not wanting to track manure through the house, she took off her boots at the door before entering and making her way up the stairs. She headed straight to the shower with its lovely shower head that poured water like a soft rain over her head and never grew cold no matter how long she stood beneath it.

But eventually, she acknowledged her hunger, turned off the water, and then reached for a big fluffy towel. At that moment, she realized she’d forgotten to bring along clean clothing.

No worries, Jeremiah had likely finished his shower long ago and was already digging into his meal. She opened the door and padded toward her bedroom.

Just as she was reaching for the knob, she saw another door open, just past the staircase.

Jeremiah stepped out into the hallway, his hair wet and looking cool and clean in his chambray shirt and Wranglers.

Before she could push open the door and jump inside, she watched his head turn.

His gaze trailed from her sodden hair, dripping on her shoulders to the towel she’d knotted between her breasts. “See you downstairs,” he said, his voice thick, and then he strode quickly to the staircase and out of her sight.

She opened her door, entered, and then sagged against the cool wood. Would she ever catch a break with the man? First, he’d rubbed horseshit off her face, and then he’d caught her looking like a drowned rat.

She must be the most unappealing woman he’d ever had the misfortune to have under his roof—even if only for a few days. For once, she wished she had something stylish in the closet to pull out and wow him with. Then maybe he’d see her as something other than some white-trash nuisance.

Although she wasn’t entirely sure how she’d deal with anything other than his annoyance and mistrust. Just the thought of him ever showing any masculine interest made her heart stutter and her palms sweat.

No, she was better off to never entertain those thoughts. Jeremiah was way out of her league, and too much history existed between them—all of it bad—to think that a little spark of attraction might catch fire.