I’ve told you all before that I love my Montana Bounty Hunters. From the first stories in the original series set in Bear Lodge, MT, I tried hard to make each of the bounty hunters individual rather than cookie-cutter characters with different names. I loved devising unique takedowns because they’re fun to write, and they showcase who these men are. I especially loved writing Hook because I got a chance to take a deep dive into the research to make his disability real and still make him sexy as hell. I hope you enjoy his story!

Hook

MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS: Authentic Men… Real Adventures…

Former Army Ranger, Dylan “Hook” Hoecker, has a new job along with a new prosthetic arm. Being a bounty hunter is the closest career field he could find as a civilian that gives him the adrenaline rush that is his addiction. So, when his first solo assignment is to keep an eye on a flight risk the boss bonded out of jail, he’s not thrilled. However, he soon discovers a fresh addiction—one mouthy, nerdy redhead, who resists his attempts to keep her out of trouble.

Felicity Gronkowski is grateful for the bone the head of Montana Bounty Hunter threw her. She didn’t have the money to pay for bail, but he has a soft spot for former military, and she bartered to install a new computer system in his satellite office in Bear Lodge. Being on the outside of jail was her first imperative because she has to figure out who framed her for a series of high-end robberies while she worked installing home security systems. However, her bounty-hunting babysitter isn’t giving her any slack. Every time she thinks she’s given him the slip, he’s one step ahead of her. Either she has to find the perfect method of distraction to escape him or she has to enlist his help to clear her name.

Contest

Are you all caught up reading the original Montana Bounty Hunters series?

For a chance to win a download of one of the stories you may have missed
(I’ll pick three winners!), tell me this:
I am currently thinking about stories to add to my MBH Yellowstone series. Do you have any ideas for fun stories or perils my hunters might face in Yellowstone?

Here are all the Bear Lodge Montana Bounty Hunters! Yes, it’s an old meme, but do you really care? 

MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS: Bear Lodge, MT
Authentic Men… Real Adventures…
Reaper: https://amzn.to/2NztLpv
Dagger: https://amzn.to/2zo6Dav
Reaper’s Ride: https://amzn.to/2KKkisI
Cochise: https://amzn.to/2zq4avV
Hook: https://amzn.to/2UrpyYh
Wolf: https://amzn.to/2yUTjr5
Animal: https://amzn.to/2H4Roob
Big Sky Wedding: https://amzn.to/33GprwK
Quincy: https://amzn.to/2QlleM8
Brian: https://amzn.to/2ZV8m2G

Excerpt from Hook:

Dylan “Hook” Hoecker had no problem keeping pace with Dagger and Cochise as they raced along the dark alleyway, following the skip they’d tracked to a gun shop in Libby. Scooter James had made the crew the moment Dagger entered the premise. Perhaps it was Dagger’s burly physique that had tipped him off, or maybe he was just nervous having three intense-looking dudes enter the store, but he’d run for the back exit.

No, Hook’s legs had never been an issue. He ran like the wind, easily leaping over a barrel Scooter dumped on its side, hoping to trip them. Beside him, Dagger cursed, and Hook couldn’t help smiling as the big guy went down. This skip was his. When he reached the end of the alley, Scooter veered left and ran through a stand of motorcycles, tipping over one, which sent the rest slowly falling like dominoes. Bikers sitting at outdoor café tables nearby rose and filled the street, shouting and moving toward their Harleys, forcing Cochise and Hook to push past them.

Cochise went down when one biker stuck out a foot, perhaps angry that their chase had scratched his ride.

Hook waved his prosthetic arm, which, sometimes, had even those who weren’t so tight with the law pausing and giving him a break. He didn’t mind one bit using his disability to give him an advantage. He shouted out a “Thanks, man,” when one biker rolled his bike forward to clear his path.

Now, it was just him following the slap of Scooter’s Adidas on the pavement. Hook paced himself, forcing himself to keep his breathing even so he’d outlast his target. He didn’t use every bit of his strength to close the gap, because he knew he’d need anything extra to take the fucker down once he began to slow.

In his mind, Hook thanked his physical therapist, who’d concentrated on helping him make the adjustment to his new circumstance, learning to use his prosthetic, but who also continued to meet him on the track three or four mornings a week to make sure he worked out the rest of his body to help, not only keep him toned for the work he did, but to keep his dark moods at bay. Raydeen Pickering was a hero in his mind, because she went the extra mile for every man and woman she accepted into her treatment program.

Ahead of him, Scooter ducked into another alley.

“He’s turned again,” he said, knowing the others could hear him through the radio in his earpiece. “Left, into an alley.”

“I’m behind you,” Cochise said. “Don’t let him out of your sight.”

“I’m cutting through another alley. Will try to get to the street before he does,” Dagger said in his ear.

Hook went left and entered an alley lit by a single golden bulb at the back door of a restaurant. He ran past rank-smelling trash bins and plastic bags but didn’t see his mark ahead. “Don’t see him,” he said, and then slowed and turned.

Something dark swung at his head, and he held up his right arm to deflect the blow from a two-by-four from a pallet, no doubt. But the board hit plastic and metal and bounced off. Hook swung under it with his left, catching Scooter in the chin. Their target dropped like a sack of rocks across a row of trash bags lined up on the dirty, smelly pavement. Read the rest of this entry »

After yesterday’s excitement, it’s hard to concentrate, but…back to work!

I know many of you come to my website to read my daily blog, but have you fully explored the many stories I have ready for you to consume? Have you read a short story written by me? I’ve written short stories that have appeared in many Cleis anthologies and stories that appeared in Penthouse Magazine. Do you remember those with the sexy, cute cartoons? Yeah, “Tailgating“ was one of those. I’ve written short stories that appeared in my own curated anthologies, my Boys Behaving Badly stories. I love writing them. Most often, they’re not connected to anything else I’ve written. They’re a chance for me to experiment. One theme that runs through all of them is a deep eroticism. So, if you’re into sexy stories, look no further. I would like to know if you’ve read one of my short stories before, and if so, which one was your favorite?

Comment for a chance to win your choice of
one of these stories! I’ll choose
three winners!

Click on the covers to read more about these stories!

And if you haven’t read my shorties, check out the full list here!

Tailgating at the Cedar Inn

Two construction workers come to the aid of one woman looking for a last taste of freedom…

I stepped out of the shower onto chipped and cracked aqua blue tiles with grout so dingy it was hard to tell what color it had been. Not that the bathroom was dirty, thank god. Just old. Like the rest of the 60’s-built motel I’d found on the little back country road.

I toweled my hair then shook my head like a dog, not caring where the droplets landed. It wasn’t a mess I’d have to clean up. For one last night I could be irresponsible, messy, even if it was only in a small way.

I draped the towel over the edge of the old white tub and sauntered naked into the small room with the double bed. It smelled of tobacco and industrial cleansers. The bedding looked clean if a little nappy from wear, but I peeled back the quilt-top and tossed it on the floor anyway. Pristine white sheets beckoned.

Just as I lay back, sighing with relief, sounds from outside the room jarred me from my happy haze. Tires squealed, masculine laughter bellowed through the thin walls, and car doors slammed.

I sighed and stared at the bared rafters above me. The laughter faded. I reached across to flip off the switch to the nightstand lamp with its yellowed shade. Lying in the darkness, I willed my body to relax, one limb at a time. I’d driven three hundred miles that day. I’d have gone another fifty for a decent hotel, but the shorter route my Garmin had found led me through narrow two-lane roads deep in the Ozark Mountains. I doubted I’d have found anything nicer.

I should have stuck to the Interstate, but I’d wanted to shave some miles. Little did I know that the route would keep my foot busy pushing on the gas pedal then the brake the whole way. Exhausted, nerves shattered, I’d seen the crooked Vacancy sign outside the Cedar Inn and made my decision on the spot, swerving into the empty gravel parking lot. Not until I’d opened the door to my tiny, musty room did I have second thoughts about my decision. But how bad could it really be? I’d turned on the swamp cooler set into a window frame and felt my hair frizz instantly.

Not that I’d really cared. There wasn’t anyone around to impress. Other than the clerk at the front desk, a skinny, twenty-something redneck with puppy dog eyes, the place was deserted. I’d shivered a little bit at the thought, double-bolted my room door and checked the locks on the remaining window. Visions of the shower scene from Psycho didn’t put me off taking a long, lukewarm soak to wash away the road grime and sweat.

The cooler purred, spilling muggy air into the room. The sheets felt clammy. Still, I grew calm as my body warmed the sheets beneath me, then a little horny when I wondered if the room might have little peepholes for the clerk to watch me. He’d been cute if a little skinny. I wouldn’t mind if he watched—at least not in my fantasies. Who knew how long it would be until I felt comfortable enough, private enough to indulge in a little one-handed play when my grandmother slept in the room next to mine.

I slipped a hand between my thighs and lazily trailed my fingers through my cleft until my breath caught and heat pooled. I raised my knees and let them fall open, tilted my hips and thrust two fingers inside my pussy. I wasn’t in a hurry. I wasn’t even that eager to come. The motion soothed and excited, allowing my mind to let go of my troubles—the firing, the break-up, the move to my grandmother’s house—and focus only on the pleasure curling deep inside my core.

When the blare of a TV sounded from outside, I had third and fourth thoughts about my decision to stop here for the night. What the hell? Why had someone moved their television set outside rather than watch in the seclusion of their room where the sound would be somewhat muffled.

I gritted my teeth, swung my legs over the side of the bed and reached for shorts and a tee, slipping them over my nude body and the keys in my pocket before I stomped to the door and flung it open.

Not that the two men sitting on the truck noticed me—at first.

Under the single flood light that illuminated the parking lot, I noted the construction company logo on the side of the pickup backed up to the door of the room beside mine. Then I eyed the large men seated on the sides of the truck bed, their shirts gone, faded jeans stretched over thick thighs. Their attention was glued to the basketball game, blaring from the small screen of the TV they had set in the bed of the truck on top of a white ice chest. They held Budweisers in their grips.

At last, one of the men’s heads turned. He spotted me then whistled at his friend. Soon both their gazes peered down.

I felt foolish standing in my bare feet with my wet hair spiked around my head. Why hadn’t I simply put a pillow over my head to muffle their noise? But I was testy. Moody. I’d lost my job, had a blow-up with my boyfriend over the fact I wouldn’t be splitting rent with him for a while, and cut my nose off to spite my own face by breaking up with him. Homeless now, I had no options. Grandma’s in Little Rock was my last resort.

Tonight would be my last night of freedom before I moved under her roof and abided by her rules. She’d pay the bills—if I knuckled under and went back to school. Something I resented after being on my own for a couple of years, living by my rules.

Which might have been exactly why I remained, rooted to that spot. The men seated on the truck would never meet Grandma’s high standards.

Sweat gleamed on their naked chests and both of them were thickly muscled and a little dirty—as though they’d come straight from work without the benefit of a shower.

The shine only served to emphasize the depth of the musculature and their starkly masculine features. Their tanned, leathery skin stretched across cheeks and jaws that were sharpened to rough edges by hard work.

Both their gazes homed on me, and while I knew the smart thing would have been to retreat without a word to my room and relock the door, I tilted my chin and thrust out my chest. “Can’t you watch the game in your room?”

“We botherin’ you, sweetheart?” the one closest to me said, sliding off the truck to land in front of me.

I peered a long way up and frowned into the face tilted my way. We stood close enough I could see the bristles of his evening shadow. He wore a ball cap that shadowed his eyes, but glints of blond hair shone beneath it. “It’s late. I was trying to sleep.”

“It’s not that late,” he drawled. “Join us for a beer?”

I glanced behind him and noted the grin on his buddy’s face. He was bare-headed with shaggy brown hair and a devilish quirk to his firm lips. The game seemed to have lost its fascination. Their gazes drank me down like I was long cool drink.

UPDATE: The winner is…Ani!
*~*~*

Besides my series, I have written some very sexy standalone stories, too! I forget about them because I’m so busy trying to keep up with series, but I shouldn’t. In fact, I should go back and look at my workplan because I deserve to write something completely fun and one-off!

If you haven’t read the books below, now’s your time to peruse, and I’m including an excerpt from one of them so you can sample some of the fun. Several of them are menage stories, so if that’s your thing, be sure to check them out!

Contest

For a chance to win your choice of one of the books below,
tell me which of these covers appeal to you!

  

  

  

Click on any cover to learn more about the story!

More about Saddled…

Riding double never felt so fine…

When Bobby Blackhawk and Cale Yancey see a car slide off the highway and into an icy creek, they’ve got only minutes to get the beautiful driver out alive — and just one way to save her from hypothermia: take her to their isolated cabin, get naked…and hope like hell that when she wakes up, she doesn’t scream the place down.

When Katherine Duvall opens her eyes in a strange bed, the tingles flooding her body aren’t entirely due to thawing. She’s snuggled between two handsome, naked men — one a gruff, gentle giant, the other a sexy, playful Native American. Having just left her cheating fiancé, she’s not quite as shocked as she might have been. In fact, these two lonesome cowboys could be the perfect bookends to satisfy her hunger for revenge and bolster her dented self esteem.

With all of them bent on seduction, it’s not long before they melt the snow on the cabin roof, and soon, the threesome finds something else is melting, too. Their hearts…

An excerpt…

Bobby Blackhawk shook his head as the taillights of the little Beemer just ahead flashed red again through the falling snow. Sure enough, as soon as the driver crunched the brakes, the tail end of the car began to slide on the snow-covered ice.

“She’s gonna go right into the river if she keeps that up,” Cale Yancey muttered beside him.

They’d been following the car for the last ten miles, inching down the lonely highway. They’d already figured out the car wasn’t using snow chains, and the driver was too stupid to know she was skirting on the edge of real trouble.

“Why are you so sure it’s a woman?” Bobby asked.

“Can’t drive worth a damn.”

“Love for you to tell Lacey J. that.”

“Lacey’s not like other women.”

Now, that was an understatement that had them both sharing lopsided grins, considering how well Lacey had proven that point the previous weekend.

“Sure could use me a little of her lovin’,” Cale said, sounding wistful.

The last trip into Wellesley, Colorado in anticipation of snow blocking the mountain pass had been a wild, lust-packed two days. With a lonely winter facing them, they’d both taken Lacey up on her offer of a threesome that was sure to keep the two men growling like hungry bears for the next two months, impatient for the thaw so they could get back down the mountain.

It was a good thing they’d discovered long ago that they were compatible in ways that would make most men blanch, otherwise the wait to make it back into town would have been unbearable. Neither was squeamish about helping the other out; however, both preferred emptying their passion inside the wet, snug passage of a woman. If the woman happened to be obliging, like Lacey often was, they didn’t mind sharing.
Both vehicles climbed the last long hill right before the men’s turnoff and another half-mile beyond to the highway, tire treads biting into fresh snow.

“She might make it,” Cale said, sounding doubtful.

“Think we better follow to make sure?”

The car ahead made it to the top of the rise, and then the brake lights flashed again.
Cale cursed. “Wish she’d quit doing that.”

Rental company plates on the back of the car explained a lot about the aptitude of the driver. “Doesn’t know she should just gear down and take it slow.”

They reached the top, and Bobby geared down. Sure enough, the driver up ahead hit the brakes again, and the rear of the car slid sideways. As though watching a movie in slow motion, both men held their breaths, hoping the woman would gain traction at the last moment, but one rear tire slid off the edge of the road and then the right front followed. With tires spinning and brake lights flaring bright, the car slipped slowly down the hill and into the creek.

“Not good,” Cale said tightly as Bobby pulled into the snow bank at the side of the road and left his emergency lights flashing. Just a precaution since there wasn’t much of a chance of anyone coming up on their rear end since the road crew had been taking the barriers off the truck when they’d passed.

Bobby slammed the car into park and climbed out, following Cale as he slid on his ass down the hill. They paused at the water’s edge, staring at the vehicle, both knowing one of them was going to have to get wet.

Water was midway up the car door, and the driver had rolled down her window. Blonde hair peeked beneath a black knit hat. Terror-stricken blue eyes peered at them through the falling snow.

“Ma’am, can you get yourself out?” Cale shouted.

“I think so,” she said, her voice tight and quavering.

“If you can crawl out your window, we can help you the rest of the way.”

“I’m getting wet. It’s cold.”

“Gotta move now, sweetheart,” Cale said, his tone gentling the same way it did when he worked with a fractious horse. “You wait another second, two of us are gonna be in trouble.”

“My purse. I can’t find it.” She turned in her seat, reaching into the back of the car.

The car bobbed on the water, and for a moment, Bobby thought it might break free and start floating. “Lady, leave it,” he shouted. “You don’t have time to look.”

“But my money—”

“Not gonna spend it if you’re dead.”

She bit her lip, and then her face screwed up as though she was going to start crying.

“Fuck sake,” Bobby muttered, stepping past Cale and stripping off his coat. “I’ll get her out. It’s gonna be up to you to get us both up that goddamn hill.”

I’m excited that Tempting the Black Wolf, the final book in the Lone Wolf Legacy series is now available. You’ve met the white and gray wolves in the first two books of the series—Taming the White Wolf and Protecting the Gray Wolf. Now, it’s time to meet the black wolf.

Tempting the Black Wolf
Lone Wolf Legacy, Book 3

I am an immortal predator, driven to hunt and protect the wolf packs from danger—especially rogue wolves. This destiny is my blood, my bone. My will.

There are two other lone wolves—one grey, one white—but I am the strongest. The most powerful. And we all share an enemy, who set a trap for each of us: a woman with our coloring, who will draw us into danger, and make our wolves howl with need.

But I won’t give into lust or passion.

I already know the face of the woman who is my supposed bait: a stunning and powerful mage named Onyx. We’ve been circling each other, wary, fueled by deeply intense attraction and fierce distrust.

But the enemy of my enemy is my ally…for now. It’s a brief truce, laced with raw, primal hunger.

Because when this is over—if we survive—we’ll have to go head-to-head one last time.

And I never lose.

An excerpt from Tempted by the Black Wolf…

The alarms and security cameras in the castle were no deterrent. As a mage, it was minor magic for her to disrupt them, but she hadn’t had to make the effort. They’d been down when she arrived. He’d beaten her here. She prayed he didn’t have the exact location of the journal.

Going as fast as she dared, she whipped down the hallway, staying near the walls when possible, doing her best to avoid the glow from the dim security lights. No need to make herself a bigger target than necessary.

The black wolf might kill her on sight or he might not. There was no way to determine his course of action, and she didn’t want to risk it. A battle between them would not be a quiet affair and would attract attention, something she desperately wanted to avoid.

Slamming her back against the wall, she closed her eyes and lowered her head, pulling in every vestige of her magic until there was a void, a dead space around her.

“You may as well come out.” The deep masculine voice penetrated the very cells of her body, demanding that she obey.

Digging her nails into her palms, Onyx fought the compulsion. She wasn’t ready to meet him face-to-face. Already her blood was humming and she was beginning to sweat.

“You’re stealthier than most, I’ll give you that, but I’m better.” No conceit, simply a deep understanding of who and what he was.

You can do this. There really wasn’t any other choice. If she tried to run, he’d be on her in a heartbeat like the predator he was. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the room. The library with its floor to ceiling shelves filled with priceless and rare tomes took a backseat to the man standing in front of the stone fireplace.

At almost seven feet tall, Dagen Kern was an intimidating sight. His jet black eyes tracked her from head to toe, missing nothing. She fought the urge to shuffle her feet and instead met his assessing gaze with one of her own, conveying a sense of detachment that was a lie. His black hair fell to his shoulders in a silky curtain that tempted a woman to run her fingers through it to see if it was as soft as it appeared. A long-sleeved black shirt was snug against muscular arms and broad shoulders. Black pants and boots completed his ensemble. They were dressed almost identically. She’d added a cape for extra protection against the chilly winter air and had shoved her distinctive red and black hair under a knitted cap.

“So you’re the tool destined to bring me to my knees.” His cynical smile chilled her blood. He’d already judged her and found her wanting. It stung deeper than she’d anticipated, stabbing vulnerable and tender spots inside her. She swallowed back the sense of inadequacy, of never being good enough. This was not the time to fall back into old habits. She’d worked too damn hard for her independence. She was nobody’s victim but a strong mage in her own right.

Tilting her chin up, she gave a curt not. “You know I am.”

Want to read more? Find Tempting the Black Wolf here:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DDJCJJG7/
Entangled Publishing: https://www.entangledpublishing.com/books/tempting-the-black-wolf
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/tempting-the-black-wolf-n-j-walters/1146192600
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/tempting-the-black-wolf
iBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/tempting-the-black-wolf/id6642709646

Taming the White Wolf and Protecting the Gray Wolf are also available:
Series Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CTKCDR77/

About the Author

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, assassins, 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.

Visit her at:
Website: https://www.njwalters.com
Blog: https://www.njwalters.blogspot.com
Newsletter Sign Up: https://eepurl.com/gdblg5
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/N.J.WaltersAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/njwaltersauthor
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/NJWalters
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/njwalters
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/n-j-walters

Seattle and Western Washington are known for rain. I called my Seattle-based series Rain City Tales. After about nine months of rain, however, the summer switch gets flicked on, and we enter our drought. It usually goes from about July 6^th into mid-September. During that time, we get dry and hot, increasingly so in the last few years. With that dryness comes the potential for fire. This year, Western Washington didn’t have many fires, and the offshore winds kept the smoke from Oregon and Idaho fires blowing away from us. British Columbia and Alberta, Canada, have also seen some fires, a large one devastating a third of the historic town of Jasper and burning large swaths of the Jasper National Forest. Each time these fires flare and ravage the land and communities in their path, my thoughts are drawn to the brave firefighters who battle these blazes, flinging themselves into danger and, at times, paying the ultimate price to save others.

This year, I published two books featuring firefighters, wanting to honor the brave work they do. The first, Throuple Honey, highlights a smoke jumper who lost his husband in a fast-moving fire in a national forest. Shane Ward didn’t have all his gear when he jumped into a fire zone with his husband Corder Mitchell. Corder sacrificed himself for Shane, and now Shane must pick up the pieces and move on. He leaves the profession and takes up beekeeping across the mountains from Seattle. The couple he works for, Emmett Simpson and Dante Scarletti, run a farm outside of Wenatchee, Washington. They’ve been in a slump with their relationship for months. Shane’s arrival sparks a rekindling of their relationship and a further bonding with the grieving fireman as they help him heal from his staggering loss.

The second book, Blaze of Cortez, is the eighth installment of the Rain City Tales. It is a standalone story within the series, though characters from other books come in and out. In Ray Cortez’s experience, everyone leaves, including his family and his relationships. He doesn’t let anyone in, his heart having been broken too many times. When Ray returns to Seattle after fourteen years, he finds his coworker, fireman Leif Ramsey, to be a danger to his protective barriers. Leif isn’t out to his family or his workmates, and Ray won’t date a closeted man. The two are drawn together, and Leif takes a risk for Ray’s affections, but a fire at Ray’s estranged family’s home threatens to burn away the fledgling relationship he’s started with Leif.

To find out more about me and my writing, please hop over to Delilah’s Collections for my Get-To-Know-The-Author post. Throuple Honey and Blaze of Cortez are available on Amazon and Kobo.

Excerpt from Throuple Honey:

Love is like honey—you might get stung, but the rewards are sweet, and they stick to you.

He should’ve checked his gear. Should’ve made sure.

Shane Ward scanned his smoke-filled surroundings, hoping for a cave or somewhere else they could hide from the fast-approaching wildfire. The jump earlier that morning had promised a challenge, and Corder Mitchell, the man Shane had been married to for the better part of a decade, had thrilled at the chance to battle this two-thousand-acre blaze in the Mount Rainier National Forest. Their Lake City fire chief had been reluctant to let them both go on such a dangerous summer job, but Corder had been insistent, assuring the chief nothing bad would happen. Though Shane knew his husband couldn’t promise their safety, Corder’s two loves, firefighting and the outdoors, had merged on this assignment.

The tinder-dry conditions provided ample fuel, and the stiff, hot wind blowing against his back had doubled the size of the mid-August fire in less than two hours. The sun tried to penetrate the thick layer of brown smoke, only succeeding in casting an eerie, orange glow around them, punctuated by the light of blazing trees. Even through his mask, Shane could smell burnt wood.

Surrounded by the approaching flames, Shane tried to find a way out. Their carefully planned escape route had closed with a sudden and unexpected shift in the wind. Visibility worsened with more thick smoke choking the forest.

A trickle of sweat ran down his forehead. Heat blasted at his back from the approaching blaze. He focused on Corder. “See anything we can use?”

Corder shook his head, covered in his protective gear. “Got your shelter?”

Shane nodded, not wanting to tell Corder that he’d left it behind at base camp. There had to be a way out, and if there wasn’t, he didn’t want Corder doing something stupid because of his mistake. Loud cracks and bangs behind them reverberated through the trees, and Shane chanced a glance backward. A tall cedar had erupted in a geyser of flame, its sap exploding and breaking off significant pieces of the trunk.

“We gotta move.” Corder grabbed Shane’s gloved hand, and they took off running.

Spying a better vantage point, Shane tugged at his husband. “Over there. A clearing.”

With another nod, Corder changed their direction and made for the break in the trees. Tall, dry grass met their feet when they cleared the canopy.

“Shit, this’ll make things worse.” Corder glanced back. “It’s gaining on us.”

Tapping his gloved hand on Corder’s shoulder, Shane nodded at the burning trees on the other side of the clearing with dread. “It’s coming from all sides.”

“Time for the shelters.” Corder yanked the packet from his gear and extended the metallic shelter. He paused, glancing back. “Hurry up. It’s almost on us.”

Shane hesitated but finally had to confess his predicament. “I didn’t check everything this morning in the rush to get on the chopper.”

Corder went still. “You don’t have your shelter?”

Shaking his head, he pointed at Corder’s. “Lie down, face into the ground, and I’ll cover you up. No use in both of us dying.”

“No fucking way. It was my idea to do this job.” He shoved at Shane, trying to push him down. “Besides, I have a second one inside my pack.”

Reluctantly, Shane lowered himself to the ground. “How do you have two?” He glanced past Corder. The fire had almost reached them.

“Hurry up,” Corder said, nodding at the ground. “I need to get you covered up and get mine set up over there.” He pointed toward the edge of the clearing where a section of the grass had either been tamped down or eaten by something.

Unable to clearly see his husband through the helmet, he couldn’t read any expression under the tinted visor. He lay face-down on the ground.

“I love you, Shane.” Corder threw the shelter over him.

About Brent

Though writing most of his life, Brent came to romance in 2012. With the support of his husband and his two romance novelist cousins, Brent embarked on a writing career. He’s loving the journey, finding inspiration and a story everywhere he goes, whether it be staring out the window at the local coffee shop, tucked in a booth at his favorite pub, driving through each of the fifty US states, or riding the train to explore the world. Keep up with Brent and his stories on his website, Facebook, and Instagram.

I’m excited about my final book in my Lone Wolf Legacy series. Tempting the Black Wolf is releasing on September 9^th, and I want to share my new cover.

Excerpt…

Onyx eased over to the wall, putting her back to it. Menace swept across the space to engulf them all. Since his attention was on the other three, she began to inch her way to the entryway.

His head snapped around, dark eyes pinning her in place. “Going somewhere?”

“Thought I’d pop around the corner for a mocha latte while you conducted business.” His lips twitched but he didn’t smile. That would ruin the whole dangerous vibe he had going on. Still, she held her breath and hoped.

He removed his coat and held it out to her. It was automatic for her to take it. “Hold this and be good for five minutes.” Turning back around, he dismissed her.

Be good! Be good! She should kick his ass. And she would if she thought she’d actually succeed. She fisted the leather fabric tighter. It would serve him right if she stomped his coat into the dirt, but that would be an insult to such a gorgeous piece of clothing. The scent of leather and male surrounded her. Desire licked over her skin. The man was insufferable. He was also handsome and smart and the key to her freedom. If she didn’t need him, she’d leave.

Pre-order your copy of Tempting the Black Wolf.
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DDJCJJG7/
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/tempting-the-black-wolf-n-j-walters/1146192600
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/tempting-the-black-wolf
iBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/tempting-the-black-wolf/id6642709646

Who are the lone wolves?

Since the rise of the werewolf, there has always existed a single lone wolf—with pure white, gray, or black fur and eyes that match—who answers to no alpha, belongs to no pack. Merciless and deadly, he wanders the world, both judge and executioner of rogue wolves who senselessly kill, endangering all their kind.

When one dies, another takes its place, awakening to his purpose the first time he shifts to his wolf form. Known by the sign of the lone wolf—a sickle over the heart—the short-handled, circular blade remains as a tattoo on the man and as a mark on the wolf. A lethal combination of intelligence, brutal strength, and keen instinct, he walks a lonely path, shunned by pack, always alone.

For the first time, there are three in the world—white, gray, and black—who all bear the mark on their chests. No one knows why, least of all them…

Taming the White Wolf and Protecting the Gray Wolf are available.

Series Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CTKCDR77/

About the Author

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, assassins, 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.

Visit her at:
Website: https://www.njwalters.com
Blog: https://www.njwalters.blogspot.com
Newsletter Sign Up: https://eepurl.com/gdblg5
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/N.J.WaltersAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/njwaltersauthor
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/NJWalters
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/njwalters
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/n-j-walters

8 Seconds to Die

When veterinarian and amateur sleuth, Dr. Tullah Holliday reluctantly agrees to help a former high school bully, now ex-con on parole, and a breeder of rodeo bulls, who is being threatened by a drug syndicate, she finds herself in a world of corruption; especially when she digs up dirt on a dishonest sheriff and his deputy.

From a rattlesnake delivered in a giftwrapped box, to a vicious bull attack, as Tullah puts together the pieces of the case, a killer is preparing to strike again, and this time, it could send this nosy veterinarian to an early grave.

Excerpt from 8 Seconds to Die…

The silence that permeated the room had never sounded so loud. I finally said, “What happened then? Did you call the sheriff, or 9-1-1?”

Caleb poured another drink. It was halfway to his mouth when Caroline admonished, “That’s enough, Caleb.”

He racked a trembling hand over his face before downing the bourbon. He grimaced. “Yeah, sure, it’s just that I keep seeing Pop’s mangled body.” He heaved a deep sigh. “We rushed to the barn. Diablo had blood on both horns where he’d gored Pop. My ol’ man lay in a heap like a broken doll. I wanted to shoot the bull. I guess it was a good thing Rex and Baily stopped me. “We called Sheriff Coffey. He came with two deputies and the medical examiner, Reed Duckworth. Duckworth put Pop’s death at approximately two a.m. He said it appeared almost every bone in Pop’s body had been broken by the mauling.”

I had to ask, “Was there an investigation…did you request an autopsy?”

Both Caroline and Caleb gave me owlish looks. Caleb said, “Investigation…what was there to investigate? The bull broke out of his pen. He gored my father to death. End of story. And no, we didn’t request an autopsy. We knew how Pop had died. I don’t understand why you’re asking these questions, Tullah.”

Not satisfied with the shortened version of the answer, I persisted. “From the way you’ve reinforced the pens with metal bars, how did the bull get out? Was your father gored in the front or in the back? Wasn’t there a door or a ladder to the loft that he could’ve used to escape the attack? Was there any evidence of tampering with the latch on the gate of Diablo’s pen?”

Caroline and Caleb sat silent. Their silence cued me that there was more to the story. I waited. “Listen, you two, you’ve asked for my help. I’m getting a bit weary of the pranks and the evasiveness. What is it you’re either hiding or not telling me? Was Carl’s death an accident or murder?

“Does his death have anything to do with the threats you’ve received, and especially threats against your children? Have the perpetrators made demands for money or for something otherwise?”

*~*~*

8 Seconds to Die is book #5 in the Doc Holliday Mystery Series.

Books are available at:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Seconds-Die-Doc-Holliday-Mystery/dp/1509254919/
Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/8-seconds-to-die-loretta-c-rogers/1145014706?ean=2940186042167
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/209767678-8-seconds-to-die

About the Author

Loretta C. Rogers is a fourth generation Floridian. She has rounded up cattle and participated in a couple of twenty-five-mile endurance trials with her mustang mare. She uses her life experiences to create stories. For example, rodeo is her favorite sport. Years ago, she and hubby were at a rodeo in Kissimmee, Florida. They were camping out and had to skedaddle when someone opened the gates to the bull pens. Thankfully, only their tent suffered. On the upside, Loretta got to meet Michael Landon, who played Little Joe Cartright on Bonanza. These and other past life experiences spurred the idea for “8 Seconds to Die,” a rodeo themed contemporary mystery that includes murder, drug syndicates, rattle snakes, and laced with a thread of paranormal.

Contact Loretta at:
https://www.facebook.com/loretta.rogers.3591/
https://www.lorettacrogers.blogspot.com/
https://www.bookbub.com/authors/loretta-c-rogers
https://www.amazon.com/stores/Loretta-C.-Rogers/author/B004948XP2
https://twitter.com/i/flow/login?redirect_after_login=%2FBooksbyLoretta
https://www.instagram.com/rogers.loretta2018/?hl=en