I love writing my bounty hunter stories! They’re so much fun—action, humor, stupid criminals, danger, and sexy times! The second book in my spinoff series of Montana Bounty Hunters centers around a man named Preacher. The story is set to release in January, but I’m hoping to finish it sooner so it will come out before the end of December. He’s new to the team and, in the opening scene, we see him and his new partner Marti taking down a skip. For this spin-off series set in Dead Horse, Montana, I’m introducing the town folk. We already met the surly waitress, Nadine, in Cage‘s story. She’ll play a bigger role in future stories. In Preacher’s book, you’ll meet more of the town’s lively characters as well as the owner of the donut shop. Preacher is already attracted to her but hasn’t made a move. You’ll see why in this snippet. Enjoy!

Preorder your copy here!

Two days later, Preacher got a text as he was climbing into his black Suburban, ready to head into work.

Fig: It’s your turn to bring the donuts. Get them from Deadly Delights.

Preacher checked his watch. He had time.

How many? And what?

Fig: Two dozen kolaches. Two dozen mixed. Don’t drag ass.

Ooh, bossy. Who pissed on your cornflakes?

Fig: HaHa. Got a lot to go over.

Preacher’s mood lightened. He didn’t mind donut duty, not when the woman behind the counter at Deadly Delights was one very pretty blonde who wore confectionary sugar like most women wore powder on their noses. Whenever he saw a light dusting on her cheek, he had the urge to lean over the counter and lick it. Likely every male in the vicinity had the same urge.

Asking her out on a date had been on his mind for a while. He’d never noticed a ring on her finger and hadn’t seen her around town with any guys, so he thought maybe he should. After all, he’d been here a little while and needed to make some friends. Maybe, he could talk her into showing him around.

He grimaced. That might not be the best line. It would be the world’s shortest date. Dead Horse was a tiny town. A guided tour would take all of ten minutes.

Deadly Delights was on Main Street, which was on his route anyway with the Dead Horse Motel on the opposite side of town from Montana Bounty Hunters. Preacher shook his head as he passed the businesses lined up along the strip—Dead Center Guns & Pawn, Dead as a Doornail Hardware, The Drop Dead Gorgeous Salon.

He laughed. “They certainly have a theme going.”

He pulled into an empty parking space in front of the donut shop. Inside, business was brisk. He stood in line, trying not to look as though he was checking out the shapely proprietor while he was certainly checking her out. When it was his turn at the counter, his reason for being there completely escaped him.

It was those eyes—the prettiest blue, like cornflowers or maybe bluebonnets—although why he remembered any flowers’ names when he couldn’t remember his own was a mystery. Or maybe it was her pretty light blonde hair that she always wore in a long braid. Or maybe her pale skin with that light dusting of caramel-colored freckles across the bridge of her nose. He kept his gaze above her shoulders because he’d never drag it away from her full breasts and hips…

“Did you want something?” she said, leaning over the counter, her expression becoming concerned.

You and some of that whipped cream frosting you’re wiping off your fingers…

Frozen in place, he was sure he probably looked like a complete moron. He raised his phone to read the text message from Fig then cleared his throat. “I need kolaches and donuts.”

The woman’s mouth twitched at the corners. “How many people you feeding? Just yourself?”

He felt heat begin to fill his cheeks. Dammit. He’d never get her to go out with him if he couldn’t untwist his tongue. “Two dozen of each. And mixed… Um, mixed donuts, that is.”

She nodded and pulled four pink boxes from beneath the counter, unfolding them then laying down tissue paper or some such in the bottoms of the containers to line them.

She quickly filled his order then stacked the boxes neatly beside the cash register.

He already had his credit card out, not wanting to extend the conversation because he’d likely make a bigger fool out of himself if he did. Then he noticed the light coating of something white on her collarbone. It looked like the glazing on the donuts she’d put into the box. His mouth watered.

She rang up the order and handed him back his card. “Would you like a cup of coffee to take with you, sir?”

“Preacher,” he blurted.

She shook her head. “Pardon me?”

“Not sir. Preacher.”

“That your first or last name?”

“It’s what I’m called.” At this point, he wished the floor would just open up and swallow him whole.

“Well, Preacher,” she said, leaning over the counter and smiling as she handed him a coffee, “you have a good day.”

He managed a nod before reaching for the boxes and the coffee and quickly exited the store. “Damn. Fuck. Shit,” he whispered under his breath as he headed to his vehicle.

Another chance missed. It would be five more days before he’d have donut duty again. He wondered if he shouldn’t practice in front of a mirror before he attempted to talk to her again, or maybe he needed a wingman or woman to help him out…

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Dear Delilah Fans,

My new release is a real scorcher. When the idea for this novella started forming in my mind, the story unfolded in quick bursts. Then I panicked. It was way over the top.

So I shelved it. Over a couple of years, I’d go back and do what writers do, pick at it, think about it. Then the ending became clear, and that pulled it back from the danger zone.

It’s still an edgy story and for those of you with trigger issues, please note that the story involves initial dubious consent.

Allison is an independent woman with strong ideas about what her life should be. Her relationship with Dane is steady and comfortable for them both. I can’t say much more without giving away too much of the story – it’s full of surprises.

MMF romance has always been hard for me to imagine. Men aren’t generally comfortable with same-sex experimentation. Most menage a trois involves one man and two women. But that’s not what women like to imagine. The idea of two men touching you is, well, pretty damn hot!

Him & Her…and Him

Christmas Eve. Iced in at her boyfriend Dane’s business, Allison Spears mouths off to a man working there, daring him to, well, take her by force, if she has to be blunt about it. Next thing she knows, he has her backed up to the wall, his eyes glinting with lewd intent. And damn it, he’s taking her breath away.

Where is Dane? Why won’t this stud Hank back off? She knows there are ways to force him, but things are getting heated and maybe… Maybe she doesn’t want him to quit.

What begins as a rough and tumble encounter turns into something completely unexpected as Hank reveals what Dane had asked him to do. Next thing Allison knows, she and Hank and Dane are connecting in ways she never imagined. Her secrets aren’t the only ones popping up around here.

Excerpt from Him & Her…and Him

“Do you want me, little girl?” Hank said, his lips curling into a sardonic grin.

Was this his game, some kind of fucking ego trip where she was supposed to beg?

“No, hell no,” she snapped, trying to gain control. If she could get her knee in position… “I don’t even know you. And I’m not a ‘little girl,’ you sick pervert.”

He barked a laugh that echoed off the walls. “I noticed. And sure you do. I’m the guy you think about when you’re lying in bed all alone and touch yourself.”

“Of all the… I don’t…”

“Don’t lie to me, sweetness. You get punished for lying.”

In a half-hearted attempt to free herself, she shoved against his hard chest. He didn’t move a centimeter. Instead, he laughed again. Fear spiked up her throat. What if…

Then a darker emotion swept down her belly where it coiled and waited like a low-lying reptile, a most degrading sensation. Her desire for him to force her doubled, tripled. Take her right there on the cold concrete garage floor. An image of being bent over his knees, her naked buttocks stinging under his big palm as blow after blow slapped her—her thighs squeezed together at the thought.

“Yes,” she said breathlessly.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I touch myself.”

“Fuck.” He stepped back, his glittering eyes raking her up and down until she felt stripped bare. She straightened her clothes with short jerky motions, trying to regain control.

~~~

Novella of 22,200 words: MMF erotica romance
Only 99 cents!

Buy links:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1053915
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08NC8V3LP

Happily Ever After… Who doesn’t love a good old fashion boy gets the girl fairy tale? There’s a reason fairy tales have been around for ages, telling stories, teaching moral lessons, and preserving history. Even in this fast-paced, techno world where magic has faded and innocence is devalued, we still gravitate to stories that end happily ever after. I love a happy ending as much as the next person, but I think even better than the ending is the main character’s journey.

When I was a kid, I dreamt about being swept off my feet by Prince Charming or magic fixing all my troubles. As I got older, I realized that all the Fairy Godmothers in the world wouldn’t have been able to help Cinderella if she wasn’t ready, willing, and able to help herself. Somewhere along the line, it penetrated my thick skull—happily ever after is there for people who are willing to create it. Since then, I’ve been chasing my happily ever after. A big part of that dream is my writing career.

When I saw a chance to write for a twisted fairy tale anthology, I jumped at the chance. It was so much fun to use a familiar backdrop to send the characters on a whole new adventure. I chose Robin Hood and twisted the story from Robin the knight coming home from the crusades to save Nottingham to Robyn being the wife of a knight who followed the Lion Heart to the Holy Land.

Left behind to fend for herself in an increasingly desperate situation, Lady Robyn Ashby fights to survive and protect her people after losing her home and land to the greedy and corrupt King John. Robyn, Little John, Will Scarlet, Friar Tuck, and the rest of the fabled bandits find a haven in Sherwood Forrest and, true to legend, help and protect the downtrodden citizens of Nottingham. When her husband returns from the dead, can Robyn set aside her bitter resentment and strike a blow for the people?

“The Lady of Sherwood” is my installment in Ravenous Fables! Full of reinvented fairy tales, this anthology is bursting with adventure, romance with a liberal dose of heat, and of course, happily ever after! They’re not your mama’s fairy tales! The paperback is live now, and you can preorder the ebook for just 99 cents! Worth every penny!!

An excerpt from “The Lady of Sherwood”…

With a sigh, Robyn pulled off her boots. The grass felt like a carpet under her feet, and she wiggled her toes.

“You can’t trust him, Robyn,” Will Scarlet said, materializing out of the forest.

Robyn closed her eyes and let the sunshine hit her face. So much for her moment of peace. “I have no reason not to trust him, Will.” She opened her eyes and looked at the young man. “I know we don’t want to remember this, but he didn’t know how it would turn out when he left. They all believed they were on a mission for God and King. He’s not the same man who left us.”

The realization slowly dawned on Robyn, though she hadn’t wanted to admit it. Her anger and resentment of Simon had kept her warm on cold nights when her belly was empty and her heart broken.

Will scoffed, “I can’t believe how quickly, you of all people, forget. He’s a king’s man through and through. People don’t change. This fallen lord ruse is meant to toy with your heart. It seems to be working, judging by the way you stare at him. Why don’t you open your legs for him and have done with it?”

Robyn’s cheeks flamed with anger and embarrassment. Before her reprimand could leave her lips, Simon hurtled out of the trees, tackling Will. They scuffled in the grass while Robyn watched with bemused irritation. Larger and stronger, Simon had Will by the back of his shirt and shook him like a mother dog with an irascible pup.

“You’ll apologize to my wife, boy,” Simon snarled.

“She doesn’t need you to defend her.”

With a sudden movement, Will dropped and twisted out of Simon’s hold. Simon might be bigger and stronger, but Will was faster. Simon lunged after him, and they tumbled to the ground. Will managed to pull away, and the two men separated, glaring at each other. Robyn’s bowstring sang twice in quick succession as she planted an arrow at their feet. They froze and looked at her. She walked to Will and plucked the arrow from the ground.

“Get out of my sight,” Robyn said with icy finality.

Will’s wide-eyed expression crumpled, and his shoulders slumped. He spared one final glare at Simon before slinking away.

Robyn turned to Simon and pulled the other arrow from the earth, wiping the tip clean with her shirt before putting it in her quiver. She turned to leave, uncertain what to say and in desperate need of space.

“When did you learn to shoot a bow?”

Simon’s question stopped her in her tracks. “When I had to hunt or starve. Hunger is a powerful motivator and an unforgiving tutor.” Robyn’s anger surged forward, reminding her that this man had caused years of hardship. She spun on her heel, confused by her own seesawing emotions.

Simon’s hand closed around her elbow and turned her back to him. She stiffened in his hold.

“I’m sorry, Robyn.” He pulled her into his arms and crushed her against his chest, which was as warm and solid as she remembered. Her anger snuffed like a candle. Tears pricked in her eyes as she rested her cheek against his chest. Over the years, Robyn had dreamt of him holding her like this, even when she burned with hatred for him.

“I’m proud of you. I always knew you were strong. I hope one day, you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me,” he whispered against her hair. Simon let her go and brushed a tender kiss across her lips. He looked at her for a heartbeat before stepping away.

Robyn swallowed and sat in the soft grass. Unbidden, a memory floated to the surface. Simon sat beside her on the grass next to the lake at Ashby Manor. Hot summer sun filtered through the leaves of the trees. She had worn her hair down at his request, though it was incredibly uncomfortable in the heat. He swept it up in his hand and blew cool air across her neck, making her shiver and her stomach clench with desire. Lazily, he laid her back on the thick grass and, one by one, worked the buttons of her bodice loose. The image dissolved in her mind, but she could still feel the kiss of sunlight on her bare chest, the cool grass in her fists as she clutched them in pleasure, and his mouth. Oh, she remembered his clever, wicked mouth and how he seared her skin with teasing kisses until she writhed beneath him in need.

Robyn pulled in a shaky breath. The memory left her aroused. She wasn’t that woman anymore, and the days of sunlight were lost to the shadow of hunger, hatred, and death. Robyn swiped an impatient hand across her face to erase the tears, wondering if they were for the woman she used to be or the one she had become.

“Robyn?” Little John called from within the camp behind her.

Grateful for the interruption, Robyn pushed to her feet and slung her bow over her shoulder. “I’m here, John,” she answered as she banished her melancholy thoughts and strode out of the meadow.

About the Author

A.C. Dawn is an active and enthusiastic author and reader of short stories, novellas, and novels. She enjoys bringing her characters to life and strives to stir the imagination of her readers. She believes the best writing touches the reader in ways they hadn’t expected and will never forget!

So, that’s the official bio…

Really, I’m a lover of chocolate, a strong jawline with a 5 o’clock shadow, and romances that make your heart pound and your middle get all squishy. I love quiet country living on my north Georgia farm with my family and fur babies of all shapes and sizes. I think the scariest thing in life is how fast my daughter is growing and an empty coffee pot. I can’t stand slow drivers in the fast lane and wimpy handshakes.

I have endless stories rumbling around among the rocks in my head. I can’t wait to share them with you!

https://www.facebook.com/A-C-Dawn-2317750851796803
amazon.com/author/acdawn

Halloween is almost here, so this time, dear Delilah fans, I’m going to share a personal story before I tell you about my featured short story. Snuggle in with a cup of hot tea and tuck that blanket around your legs. And enjoy the hair standing up on your neck.

A friend had come to stay with me while she searched for a place to live. She had lived in Europe for several years, and on her journey back to the States had stayed for a time in London with an old friend. He was ailing and subsequently died. She told me about her mysterious experience with his ghost visiting her after his death.

After returning to the States, she lived at my house maybe two or three months before finding a rental she liked. After she moved out, a month or so later, I was sitting in the living room watching television like I did every night when I suddenly became aware of another presence in the house. The hair went up on my neck.

At first, I tried to convince myself it was my imagination, because that’s what we all do at moments like that, right? Then I reasoned that if someone had come in at the back end of the house through that seldom-used door, I would have heard it. It didn’t open without a creak. I heard no creak.

But after several minutes of very eerie energy wafting through the house, I forced myself to get up from the couch and go back there. I slowly crept the thirty feet down the hallway to that back door, gooseflesh on my arms. I even stopped to pick up a large bamboo rod to use on an intruder. I flipped on the hall lights, calling out ‘Who’s there?’

When I got to the room with the door, it was empty. So was the rest of that part of the house, including closets and under the beds. Yes, I checked. And the door was locked. But Something was there, an energy that was so strong and so haunting that I could feel it all around me.

Almost immediately, I realized it was the ghost of my friend’s friend. It must have followed her since she was the person who had seen him through his last days and communed with the ghost after her friend’s death. I remembered her remarks that she had visited with the ghost more than once.

Well, thanks a lot! I didn’t need that ghost, and I didn’t appreciate her leaving it here with me.

It was hostile, maybe because she had left it behind. I didn’t trust it. Didn’t want it. I tried to reason with myself. Maybe it was likely just lost.

So I addressed it. I stood there in the rooms she had stayed in and told it this wasn’t where it needed to be. I tried to change my energy from fear and resistance to a more loving and sympathetic frame of mind. It wasn’t easy because I was spooked, but I said it would rest better if it joined the other spirits in the places they lived. I told it to go to the light.

I thought it had listened because the presence seemed to leave. Later, though, when I went back to that part of the house after a few days, my eye caught on a work of art one of my kids had done in grade school. Taking pride of place near the end of the hallway, it was well-done rendering of a clown with a teardrop on its cheek that had always made it a sad image.

Well, now the image was not sad. It was demonic.

The ghost had taken up residence.

I admit I’m not a big fan of clowns in general, so there might have been some prejudice in my observation. But a couple of visiting neighbors got the same chill from looking at the painting. Disturbed by what was either a supernatural presence existing within my house or, alternatively, the fact that I was losing my mind, I ended up asking my daughter to take the art to her dad. Where it remains. I have not been bothered by that ghost again.

The ghost had no direct influence on the story of Emily’s Halloween. But living in the deep woods offers plenty of opportunities to let the spirit world walk tall in the imagination. The Halloween magic that created “Emily’s Very Special Halloween” started one afternoon with a sketchy idea for a writing project. It was an early fall day with the woods taking on their colors of orange, gold, and scarlet. A wind blew that morning, sending a kaleidoscope of color whirling through the air. I thought, okay, something with dark mystery would be nice. I’d figure it out the next morning.

During the night, this idea came to me about an ancient book and masculine magic. The next morning, I could think of nothing else. I sat down at my desk and, by noon, the story was finished.

I’ve never had that happen before. In the story, a book falls, quite literally, into Emily’s hands while she’s dusting shelves in the bookshop where she works. Bound in blackened ancient leather, the slim volume includes a title visible more from the indentation on the leather than by surviving lettering. Spells and Incantations, it says. She leafs through the brittle pages, muttering some of the strange words written there. From there, a story unfolds of sex magic and a mysterious dark stranger.

Excerpt from Emily’s Very Special Halloween

He wore a long black cape which only emphasized his masculine stature. His other garments also were black except for an elaborate vest with bizarre geometric markings that seemed to glow in the dark and move of their own accord in the reflected light of the bonfire. Faintly, she wondered if he found the vest in the same vintage shop.

His mouth reminded her of the man today in the bookstore. Her startled gaze returned to his face where a teasing smile lingered along his sensual lips. If the black mask covering his upper face were gone, would he…

She gasped. “Were you…”

“At the bookstore today?” He bowed slightly. “I’m flattered you remember. Yes, I like old books. I look around in every town I visit.”

“You’re visiting?” she stammered. God, she was horrible at this. Her face heated. “Well, I mean…”

One of his eyebrows lifted and his mouth pursed as if he choked back a laugh. “I’m teaching a short philosophy course on campus,” he said. “You would be welcome to sit in, if you like.”

“Oh, I’m taking seventeen hours plus I work, so… But thank you for inviting me.”

“Yes, of course,” he said smoothly. “So if this is the only time we might have to get acquainted, may I escort you around the grounds?”

Emily felt her jaw sag. Her glance at Sarah discovered an equally stunned expression. This man was older than her twenty-two years, certainly leagues beyond any of her classmates in terms of worldly wisdom. A visiting professor, no less. What was he doing at this party? Why her?

“Uh, sure,” she said, unable to think of any other response.

“I saw Harris over there,” Sarah said smoothly, pointing to a group of people several yards away. “I need to talk to him.”

Well, at least one of them had a clue about what to do next, Emily thought frantically. What now? There weren’t any ‘grounds’ here. He talked as if they were at some palatial estate with sculptured gardens and paved walkways. The ground here was rough with clumps of recently-mowed pasture grass and unexpected dips, most of it in shadow with only the bonfire to cast uneven light.

Her pulse fluttered in her throat. How had she found herself so far beyond her comfort zone—the dress, the party, and now this man? Too late. She almost regretted not staying at home. This whole idea from dressing up to attending the party was Sarah’s thing, not hers. Sarah loved going out. Emily, not so much. Actually not at all. She had the Friday evening schedule of television programs memorized, her go-to method of chilling out after a hard week of class and work.

A more reasonable concession to Halloween might have been a couple bags of candy for the neighborhood kids, assuming any of them ventured up the rickety outside staircase to her apartment door. Instead, here she was at somebody’s farm with a man touching her elbow sending shockwaves through her body. She glanced up.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Emily,” he said. “I think we should be formally introduced. I’m Ned Lucian, but everyone calls me Jack. Among other things,” he added with a grin.

“I’m, well, how did you know my name?” she said.

“Your name tag at work.”

“Oh, yeah, gee whiz.” She grinned sheepishly. “Emily Sanders. Nice to meet you, Jack.” She stuck out her hand.

The firm clasp of his hand seemed to burn her entire arm. She couldn’t seem to let go or even think of backing away. His presence surrounded her as if she had slipped inside his cloak. That incense scent she’d noticed in the changing room filled the still air, probably because her body had become hot and pulled the scent from the dress. Her breath came in short gasps. She felt dizzy.

Buy Links:
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/750440
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075ZC1CP6

Is anyone in the mood for Christmas yet?

If you’re like a lot of people I know, you might be wishing for 2020 to just end—but don’t skip Christmas! It’s a magical time of year that deserves to be savored and enjoyed!

Little did I know when I set out to write a holiday novel during the summer of 2019—which then got delayed—that it would be so important to release this heartwarming Christmas romance this year. But here we are, living in a world that is a completely different place than it was just nine months ago.

SLEIGH BELLS RING features some special sleigh bells that are tied to the main characters, so I was really excited when I ran across a small company called “Magical Bells” that I just have to mention. Yes, such a company really does exist—and if you feel like your Christmas spirit is depleted, you might want to purchase one of their bells to be replenished and inspired.

The company fashions its bells after the iconic “First Gift of Christmas” featured in the movie Polar Express—and they are faithful in every detail. I ran across Magical Bells when I was searching for a special gift for some of my loyal readers, and these ended up to be a perfect match to go along with the novel SLEIGH BELLS RING. The bells are beautiful, handcrafted, heirloom-quality and you can tell they are truly a labor of love.

I won’t go into detail on the company (you can visit them at magicalbells.com), but it is a family-run business that has a magical love story of its own. Oh, and I may as well mention that they were kind enough to offer a discount to all my readers at the link below. No need to use a coupon, the discount of twenty percent will be taken off automatically when you go to pay.

Back to my novel, which was just released yesterday! SLEIGH BELLS RING is about two best friends growing up who go their separate ways, only to end up on the same ranch at Christmas. It’s a best friend, second chance, cowboy Christmas love story that takes place on a luxury ranch in Montana. If I did my job correctly, it will transport you to a place where holiday traditions are deeply rooted institutions and where love can heal all wounds.

I truly hope that you find things that inspire you and bring you joy during the fast-approaching holiday season—despite the trying times. Sometimes it takes nothing more than to “believe” in a magical bell or to be swept away for a few hours by a book. May happiness and peace surround you!

Here’s to the Magic of Christmas!

Sleigh Bells Ring

Returning to her family’s Montana ranch after a ten-year absence, Jordyn Dunaway pitches in to help her mother create the special holiday magic for which the exclusive ranch is renowned. But when she discovers that her best friend growing up—the man she has never forgotten—is employed as a ranch hand, the holiday season turns into something she never imagined.

Chad Devlin was falling into a deep abyss after being medically discharged from the military. When his old employer invited him back as a ranch hand, he found himself recovering both physically and mentally…that is until he was blindsided by the return of the ranch owner’s daughter.

The rocky relationship of the former best friends takes a back seat as the future of the family-owned ranch is threatened. If Jordyn and Chad don’t put their painful pasts behind them, they might lose the ranch they both call home. Can misunderstandings, mistrust, and lost years be forgotten when the magic of Christmas is in the air?

Find out with the help of beautiful mountain vistas, warm Western hospitality, and the magical meaning of a special sleigh bell that ties both Jordyn and Chad to the past—and the future.

LINKS:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08GPPRQQR
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1040135?ref=jessicajames
Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/sleigh-bells-ring-a-magical-cowboy-christmas-romance/id1529351162?uo=4&mt=11&at=1010lv47
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/sleigh-bells-ring-a-magical-cowboy-christmas-romance
Google: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Jessica_James_Sleigh_Bells_Ring?id=H5j5DwAAQBAJ
Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sleigh-bells-ring-jessica-james/1137551912?ean=2940162758273
All Retailers: https://books2read.com/u/bxnyPl
GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55152871-sleigh-bells-ring

Excerpt from Sleigh Bells Ring Prologue

Chad Devlin leaned one broad shoulder against the porch post of the bunkhouse as a limousine pulled through the elegant arched gateway. “Another guest just arrived for the Christmas gala,” he said to no one in particular.

“Another city slicker you mean.” The man standing beside him sent a slug of tobacco onto the dirt near the steps as the car drove slowly up the gravel driveway to the main house about a hundred yards away.

Chad lifted the hat off his brow and scowled at the brown smudge on the ground, but didn’t say anything. Judd had been warned by Mrs. Dunaway about spitting anywhere he pleased, any number of times. It wasn’t exactly the type of thing that wealthy folks wanted to see when they were getting away from it all on this high-priced luxury ranch in the middle-of-nowhere, Montana. And it wasn’t behavior that one would expect from a man who was in charge of dozens of ranch hands.

With his eyes glued on the woman getting out of the car, Chad took a step forward, causing the coffee in his mug to slurp over the top. “Is that Jordyn Dunaway?”

Judd let out a whistle as the long-legged blonde accepted the suitcase handed to her by the driver. “I’ve only seen pictures.” Judd leaned forward and squinted as if to lessen the distance between them. “You know her?”

Chad grew silent and merely shrugged, angry that he’d expressed any emotion and let down his guard. He hadn’t seen Jordyn Dunaway since she’d left for a job in New York City more than a decade ago. Was that really her? Had she really come back home after all this time?

The woman paused on the porch and swept the golden tumble of hair off her shoulders, an action that flaunted a regal confidence and elegant poise. Chad mumbled under his breath as another splash of hot coffee breached the top of the trembling mug, burning his hand.

Trying to slow the pace of his heart, Chad looked away and took a deep breath. Would Jordyn remember their last night together? Would she even remember him after traveling around the world and being away from the ranch for so long?

His gaze went back to the main house, but the door had already closed behind her.

Squeezing his temples, Chad tried to stop the memories. He even closed his eyes in a futile attempt to block the images that were branded in his mind as the best—and the worst—moments of his life.

UPDATE: The winners are all 8 commenters!
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Lawless comes out next Tuesday! Well, Monday night just after midnight! Can you tell I’m excited?

If you want to read the opening scene of Lawless, you can check it out here! I had a blast writing it. The story is very sexy, funny, and has a bit of danger to keep you worried about the heroine and let you enjoy the sigh-worthy kiss when her deputy comes to her rescue. Not that she needs a lot of help! Be warned, there are lots of sexy bits in this story. I just can’t help myself when it comes to cowboys. 🙂

Lawless

Come on, baby. Break a few rules…

When a Texas deputy’s motorcycle club trashes a bar with him leading the brawl, the sheriff decides his punishment will be serving as the bouncer/enforcer for the pretty owner while she runs a booth serving bikers during a weekend-long motorcycle club convention.

Get your copy here!

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

Do you love cowboys who are also firefighters and lawmen?

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

With my hand still in a soft cast, I’m scrambling to put this bad boy to bed before it’s release next Tuesday. It’s going to be a shorter story than I had hoped (so I might be dropping the price), and so far, it’s very, very sexy. So if that’s not your thing—be warned! 🙂

Opening scene from Lawless…

Ty Nolan ignored the nudge against his shin. Last thing he wanted to do was open his eyes. From the already harsh glare burning behind his eyelids, he knew opening them would be damn painful.

“Ty, come on. Wake up,” came a harsh whisper. “Sheriff’s here.”

Sheriff? What the hell? And what was Tank doing in his bedroom? Another moment passed before he realized his mattress was damn flat. Where the hell was he?

“Ty,” came another voice, this one louder and with an irritated edge. “Hate to interrupt your beauty sleep, but I’d like a word.”

Fuck, it really was the sheriff. Which answered the question of why his bed was so damn uncomfortable. He peeked in the direction of Sheriff Josh Penske’s voice—bars stood between them. Oh hell, I’m going to hear about it now.

With his head pounding, he accepted Tank’s hand up.

His buddy grinned. “Never knew you were such a lightweight, bro.”

Ty grimaced at Tank’s wisecrack—and his crushing grip. Tank was built like a…well, a tank. Ty had played football for the defensive team in high school, so he wasn’t exactly puny. It took a few seconds to stuff his shirt back into his jeans, wincing as his bruised knuckles brushed denim. Before he turned toward Josh, he raked a hand through his hair. Josh stood beside the open cell door, shaking his head.

Good Lord, was he about to lose his job? Be suspended?

Josh turned and led the way down the corridor to the station’s bullpen door. Ty was glad he was still too hung over to blush as he completed the walk of shame past his fellow deputies, whose mouths were crimped, no doubt to hold back their laughter. Josh led him inside his office then waved him toward the vacant chair in front of his desk.

Ty slumped into the chair. He was going to be fired, he just knew it.

Josh sat back in his chair and turned his chair to the side, his gaze going to the window. “You know, I thought it was a simple assignment.”

“To be fair, I had the night off—”

Josh held up a hand to cut him off. “No matter whether you’re in uniform or not, your duty is to keep the peace, not start the dang fight.”

At this point, Ty knew better than to try to correct Josh’s impression of what had happened the evening before. He’d only piss him off worse than he already was.

“I don’t know what to do with you…”

Ty wished he’d framed that statement as a question, because he would’ve offered suggestions—short of firing him, of course. He liked his job.

And he needed it. He needed to succeed if he ever wanted to put in his application to join the Texas Rangers. He sat straighter in his chair. He’d take his lumps and move on. Figure out what was next in his life. Life after the Army wasn’t turning out to be the cakewalk he’d expected.

“Can you imagine my surprise when the mayor called to inform me she’d seen you hauled off in handcuffs, along with a dozen other ‘miscreants’—her word?”

The mayor hadn’t been so keen on this weekend’s festivities. He’d had a bird’s-eye view of just how unhappy she was when she’d marched into the station the morning before and asked Josh to lock the fairground gates.

She’d changed her mind about allowing bikers to gather there. “Yes, I know I approved the club’s permit, but have you seen how many bikes are parked all up and down Main Street? Caldera will not be another Waco!” she’d said, tapping her foot.

Ty had grimaced at the mention of the infamous shootout between members of two rival motorcycle clubs, that had spilled out into a restaurant parking lot where cops had violently ended that shit. Ty’s Veterans Posse Club wasn’t like that. Not involved with drugs or criminal activities. Opposed to violence, they did however get pissy about disrespect from any other club. Composed completely of former vets, the club gave its members a safe place to be, with people who had shared similar experiences that most folks couldn’t empathize with or even conceive of.

What had happened last night at Ruby’s Roadhouse had been…his fault. One too many beers and a sneering, snide comment from another club’s snarky member, who shouldn’t have been there in the first place, and he’d waded right into a fight.

“Look, I got the down-low from Ruby at the bar,” Josh said. “She said that guy from the club was being a dick to one of the waitresses, and that when you approached him, he insulted your club…”

Ty opened his mouth, and Josh gave a curt shake of his head, again cutting him off.

“Ruby Tackett’s bar got trashed. I asked her what she wanted to have happen.”

Here goes… Ruby was a hardass. She’d turned off the jukebox to read the riot act to all the bikers who’d filled her bar last night—before shit had gone down. “No fights,” she’d said, her arms crossed over her ample bosom. “No hassling my girls. When I say you’re cut off, you’re cut off. No fights! Got it?”

He and his buddies had all grinned and nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” they’d answered.

And still, all hell had broken loose.

“She expects your club to clean up the mess.”

Ty nodded. “Of course.”

“She’s closing the bar for the duration of the convention. But she already has a booth set up at the fairgrounds where she’ll be serving beer in the campground area—to keep the visitors off the road and out of her place. She wants you behind the bar with her.”

“What?” Ty sat straighter. He’d thought the last thing she’d want to do was spend more time looking at his face.

“For the duration,” Josh said with a firm nod. “In the meantime, your buddies are cleaning up her place. And she’ll have a bill you can all divvy up to pay for the damages.” Josh was silent for a long moment.

Ty’s brain was still swimming in tequila, so he was slow to realize Josh was waiting for something. He pushed up from his chair. “That’s it?”

One brow lifted. “Do you want it to be more?”

Ty cleared his throat. “I still have a job?”

Josh rolled his eyes. “Think you’re the first deputy in Caldera to get shit-faced and start a fight?”

Ty rocked back on his heels. “Won’t happen again, Sheriff.”

“I’m counting on that, Ty. Keep the fucking peace out there. Now, get home and get cleaned up. She needs you there by two.”

Ty left the sheriff’s office and strode back through the bullpen, this time feeling as though a weight had lifted off his shoulders. He still had a job and his badge. Things could have gone down so much worse—if Ruby had pressed charges. He had a lot to make up for to get back into her good graces.

“So, buddy,” Tank called out from a desk. “Couldn’t help hearing… You’re gonna be spending time with Ruby?”

Ty aimed a scowl his way. “I’ll be keeping the peace.”

“She’s gonna expect you to be helping her out. You’ll be handin’ out beers and mixin’ Cosmos.”

Ty huffed a breath. “I’ll be protecting her.”

“From behind the bar. Think she’s gonna let you just stand there when her staff is back at her place putting everything back to rights?”

“I’ll do whatever the woman wants. She wants me to mix a damn martini, I’ll figure it out.”

Deputy Roman Perez sat on the edge of the desk Tank occupied. “Sounds like Josh really laid the hammer down—you providing protection to Ruby.” He chuckled. “Maybe the job’s too hard for you, buddy.” He waggled his eyebrows. “If you need someone to show you how it’s done…”

Tank snorted. “Ruby’s hot. How hard can it get?” Then his eyes widened. “Oh.”

Perez laughed. “Yeah, I recommend baggy pants, man. The woman’s built like a brick house.”

Ty narrowed his eyes, not liking the deputy’s sly tone. “Maybe you should keep your comments to yourself…buddy.”

“Yeah,” Tank said, smacking Perez in the belly. “Be respectful.”

“I’m just sayin’…” Perez said, holding up his hands in surrender. “Keeping the peace might be hard when all those guys start crowding around to get a peek at her tits.”

Ty stiffened. “The only one who’s gonna peek at her tits…” He didn’t finish the sentence because he just realized what he’d said and his friends were busting a gut laughing at him.

Yeah, he was toast. And he’d have to look hard to find a pair of jeans loose enough to hide his attraction to the pretty bar owner.