Who Shot J. R.? or What Happened to Aron?

When I heard Larry Hagman had died a few days ago, I felt a sense of loss. It was as if I heard of the passing of a friend. And in a way it was. Larry Hagman played J. R. Ewing (John Ross Ewing, Sr.) on the television show, “Dallas.” I was born in 1980 and if I had been born a boy, my name would have been John Ross. My mother was completely enamored with the show DALLAS. I guess I should be grateful my name isn’t Sue Ellen or Miss Ellie.

Mom’s penchant to watch the show about Texas cowboys and free-flowing oil may be the reason she married a Texan nine years later and we moved, lock, stock and barrel, from Louisiana to the Texas Hill County. I grew up hearing that tune—the theme from Dallas—and it sorta resounds in my blood—TADAH—TADAH—DUM DUM DUM DUM. . . well, it doesn’t translate well here, but I have attached a you-tube video to remind you of how catchy it was.

One of the things that I grew up hearing about was some of the wild twists that the writers of Dallas would pull on its viewing audience. One of those was when they killed off one of the more popular characters—perhaps the most popular—Bobby Ewing. America went into a complete uproar and the producers listened and when the first episode of the next season emerged, we were all partly pacified and partly horrified to find out that the entire season before had been a dream.

But the biggest, most successful stunt they ever pulled on Dallas was the cliffhanger—“WHO SHOT J. R?” The 1980 season ended with the attempted murder of J. R. Ewing, being shot twice by an unseen assailant. Larry Hagman had started out as a secondary character, but he ended being the indisputable star. From the episode that showed the shooting till the new season began, a summer to remember transpired. There were “Who Shot J.R.?” t-shirts everywhere. That’s one of the reasons that I know about it because I slept in my mom’s “Who Shot J. R.?” T-Shirt every time I got the chance. “I Shot J. R.” t-shirts were prevalent also. During the 1980 Presidential campaign, one of the Republican buttons proclaimed that “A Democrat Shot J. R.” and Jimmy Carter said he could completely finance his campaign if he knew the answer to that pressing question—“Who Shot J. R?”

The Queen Mother of England was caught up in the mystery. The Turkish Parliament was allowed to go home early so as not to miss the revealing episode and Larry Hagman was offered $100,000 if he would reveal the culprit, but he didn’t know who it was. No one did—it was sorta like when is Jesus returning—only the Father knows. HA! But Vegas laid odds—the whole western world and some of the eastern was caught up in the mystery of “Who Shot J. R?”

Larry Hagman profited. He refused to film the revealing episode until he renegotiated a contract that gave him $100,000 per episode and rights to all J. R. merchandise. Once the long-awaited episode did air, it was a surprise to everyone that Kristin had shot J. R. He didn’t press charges, however, because she told him she was pregnant with his child. Kristin was played by Mary Crosby. Who would have thought that J. R. Ewing would have been shot by the daughter of crooner Bing Crosby?

Jess, my brother, and I, really got into the new DALLAS this season. I had wanted to watch it because of my early memories and because I had linked another of my books to the show—BOBBY DOES DALLAS. I made several Dallas and Ewing references in that book and even mentioned the song was played when Bobby Stewart would run out on the field.

One night while we were watching an episode with all of those sexy new Ewings—John Ross, Christopher and others—Jess got a glint in his eye. He turned to me and smiled. He said—“Let’s do something like that with your books.” I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, so he explained.

I have a series, “Hell Yeah!,” that has become quite popular. It is about a family of six brothers—the McCoys—who live on Tebow Ranch. Their names are Aron, Jacob, Joseph, Isaac, Noah and Nathan. And while each book has been well received—most love Aron the best. He is just sexy as hell. I laughed once and shared with a reader that I really had no intention of these books becoming a series. I wrote Cowboy Heat and it took off so I decided to expand. I’ll be honest with you, if I had known this was going to be a series I would have picked different names for the brothers. When they received their first names, I had just gotten through reading my Sunday School lesson and everyone got a biblical name. All of them are pretty good–except Noah. I giggle. Every time I say Noah, I just think of a guy with a robe and a long beard leading animals two-by-two onto an ark. But my Noah McCoy has turned out to be a sexy guy. Who knew?

Anyway, Jess’s idea was to create a mystery surrounding Aron. I have written five “Hell Yeah!” (the newest, I’ll See You In My Dreams, will release this week) and two cross-overs in a series called “Cajun Spice” and in every one of these books the lives of the brothers and their loves continue to unfold. The stories are connecting and some even overlap and in the last Cajun Spice, Forget Me Never, it is revealed—dun dun DUN!!!! that Aron is missing! He went missing on his honeymoon. I had no idea how this would go over but I have received dozens and dozens of emails from readers wanting to know what the heck is going on – ARON IS MISSING??????????

I love it. In the latest “Hell Yeah!,” we learn more, and more will be revealed in Noah’s book—Hell Yeah VI and in the next two Cajun Spice books. A lot of time in the “Hell Yeah!” universe won’t have elapsed because the books take place rather quickly, timeline wise. But like Jess thought, the idea that Aron is missing has caused quite a stir. My street team just made me a Café Press store. Maybe I ought to do t-Shirts—WHERE IS ARON???

Thank you for listening to me ramble. Like I promised, the YouTube link is attached for Dallas and the newest “Hell Yeah!” cover is attached. I’ve linked it back to my website where the purchase information will be made available as soon as possible. Today, HOT ON HER TRAIL—the 2^nd in the Hell Yeah! series is free on amazon. Check it out. I have also attached my website link and my fan page link and I do answer every email.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4rJCJM5jr8o

An excerpt from the new book is attached and – oh yeah – one more thing.

REST IN PEACE, LARRY HAGMAN, YOU WILL BE MISSED.

EXCERPT FROM “I’LL SEE YOU IN MY DREAMS”

Link –  https://sablehunter.com/books.html

“Touch me, please.”

“Where, Presley?” Her desperation just fueled his passion. Being desired and needed was incredibly addictive.

“My breasts,” she whispered.

“I am touching you,” he crooned to her, suspecting what she was really asking.

“With your lips,” she said so softly he almost couldn’t hear. “If you don’t mind – that is.”

Sinking to his knees, he pushed her tits together and molded them in his hands, caressing and shaping them – rubbing his thumbs over the nipples. “You want me, don’t you?” Read the rest of this entry »

Delilah, I had so much fun writing sexy Dom, Mark Connor for our Smokin’ Hot Firemen anthology, I just couldn’t stop! The result of this lustful tryst with my keyboard is a scorching novella entitled Training Tess with a dark, dreamy Dom, Jared Mittlebank. And Holy Hanna, is he a hottie!

When Jared spots his sister’s very vanilla assistant in a BDSM club, he can hardly believe it. He’s lusted after Tess for years but didn’t think she could handle his darker needs. Like his predilection for cuffs. And whips. And spanking. Hell, for domination of every kind. But as soon as he sees her wearing a collar, he’s lost to his desire. He vows to claim her for his own.

For Tess, dressing up as a sub while researching an article she’s writing is a lark—until she sees Jared in the club. She may be new to the Dom/sub scene, but she knows what she wants. With Jared—and only Jared—can her deep, primal desires come to light and be fulfilled. Let the lessons begin.

Training Tess is available for preorder on Amazon and Barnes and Noble and will be available at Ellora’s Cave (and everywhere else) on November 28^th.

Want a little more? Here’s an excerpt. If you dare!

An Excerpt From: TRAINING TESS

Copyright © SABRINA YORK, 2012

All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

Edging past him—careful not to touch—she sat at her desk. She tried to ignore the ominous sensation that she was a butterfly pinned to a board by a vaguely curious entomologist.

“Two years.” He set the paperweight on the desk in front of her. She put it back where it belonged. It was warm from his touch. “Two years.” He leaned back and grinned. She didn’t see it—couldn’t look at him—but she felt it. A trickling warmth. “Two years and I never had a clue.”

She froze. Driven by the dark thread thrumming in his tone, she snapped her gaze to his. His eyes were beautiful. Mesmerizing. Ice blue ringed in black, feathered by girlishly long lashes. But he wasn’t girlish. Not in the least. Those eyes burned with a predatory light—one any woman with a pulse would recognize.

“N-never had a clue about what?” But, God help her, she already knew. Read the rest of this entry »

The Ties that Bind

I think few things define a person more than their community.  Whether your community is your family, religion, or even hometown, it shapes you and has a profound affect on the person you become.  I’m from a small town and I’ll probably always be a small town girl at heart even though I live in a city.  My community had a profound influence in making me who I am.  And I’d like to think that in some small way, I might have left my mark on my community as well.  ‘Cause that’s what makes each community special…unique.  As it’s shaping you, you’re shaping it. 

So what happens when your community disowns you?

That single question sparked the birth of my newest heroine, Nicola Lillian Rathe.  When she was twelve years old, just after the death of her mother, she was cast out of her community.  To make matters worse, with no family or home, she was forced into human foster care.  Most children would find this to be a traumatic experience but for Nikki it was more than that.  It was shattering.  Her community was not just her family and friends.  And it was more than her home.  It was her race—her own kind. 

Nikki’s Community was made up of people of magic.  Some could shape-shift (take on any appearance at will), some could manipulate fire, some were empaths, and some were compulsors.  And Nikki?  She was one of the rarest and most dangerous of them.  She was born a seductress.  Able to bend a man until he broke with a single touch.

But just because she no longer had a place in her Community, didn’t mean they no longer shaped her.  And it most certainly didn’t mean she no longer shaped them.  They might not want her, might be afraid of her, but they still need her.  And when a handsome enforcer tricks her into a blood bond, she discovers she might still need them as well.

Excerpt:

Nikki heard the low growl of impatience, but it took a second for her to recognize it as her own. “You talk too much.” She covered his mouth with hers, silencing him.

The kiss was filled with challenge and desire, making it both hungry and vulnerable at the same time. His arms closed around her back as she deepened the kiss, pulling her closer, until every inch of her body was pressed against his. The feel of his skin under hers was intoxicating.

Pushing him away, she sat up and stared at him for a moment before lowering her mouth to his neck. Her tongue sought out and found his racing pulse. Savoring the lightly salty taste of his skin, she started working her way down to the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder. Biting him teasingly, she heard him moan as his hands clenched her thighs.

“You taste good.” Her voice was husky, seductive—intentionally so. Here, she was in her element.

“And what if I want to taste you?”

God, this was just what she needed. “Feel free.”

“No, I mean all of you.” Read the rest of this entry »

By Any Other Name

I have to admit that my husband is taking a lot of flack over my latest release, Ten Reasons Not To Date A Cop. See, my real life hero is a peace officer. We have been together for over twenty-five years (why, yes, I was ten when I met him <wink>) and I started this book long before he ever thought about entering law enforcement.

But he’s had a great time at work boasting that his wife is a romance author. They’ve taken to calling him Murtaugh after Danny Glover’s character in the Lethal Weapon Series. He’s told everyone how he’s my inspiration and if only they would read that scene on page 136…

But his limelight is diminishing. Ten Reasons Not To Date A Cop? He hates the title, fusses about it on a regular basis, and swears he won’t tell anyone at work about it.

I didn’t bother to point out that most of his friends at work are my friends and fans on Facebook and they already know about Ten Reasons. Nor did I inform him that titles aren’t always created by the author. I do remind him that Ten Reasons is a romance and well, Kaylee (the heroine) comes to terms with her reasons and finds a place in her heart for a policeman.

Living with a police officer does have its benefits as far as research goes. Even when he gets mad at me for interrupting the football game (yet again) with questions about police ethics, guns, and investigation proceedings. And then there’s the matter of that scene on page 136… Research people. It’s a necessary endeavor. And he’s always willing to “take one for the team” when it comes to that.

Maybe I should name the next book, Ten Reasons Cops Make Fabulous Lovers/Husbands/Heroes. Surely he can’t find anything wrong with a title like that.

Here’s a look at Ten Reasons Not To Date A Cop—

Luc sat for a moment in the cool interior of the Beemer and watched the woman shift from one pretty leg to the other. He made no move to get out of his car. He wanted her to wait. Or try to run. She shifted again.

His informant had been quite specific in his description. Their target was a female, very short with arrow-straight, platinum blond hair. She wasn’t reported to be armed, nor was she considered to be particularly dangerous. She drove a beat-up blue Nissan and wasn’t above using her feminine wiles to get what she wanted. But Matthias hadn’t told Luc she was a memory, all grown up and prettier than ever.

Little Kaylee Stephens. My, my, my. She was the last person he had expected the K. Stephens to be. When he’d heard the name, she hadn’t even crossed his mind. It had been what…? Ten…fifteen years? He mentally did the math. Sixteen. It had been sixteen years since he had seen her. And she’d looked a sight different now. Back then she had been the awkward, tag-a-long sister of his two best friends. All pigtails and braces and now…well, now she wasn’t.

She checked her watch, then cast a frustrated glance in his direction. She had to be smothering in that raincoat. The temperature was at least a hundred and three. She looked as if she had something to hide, bundled up the way she was. The statue? A weapon?

Luc had glanced into her car while he wrote her citations, but the interior of the Nissan looked like a twister had recently blown through. He would have to search it if he was going to find what he was after. Damn what a day this was turning out to be.

She whirled around as he opened his car door. Her silvery hair contrasted starkly with the black of her raincoat, and he wondered how it would look splayed against his chest. How it would feel. Read the rest of this entry »

So the company I work for sent me to a resort for a week….

There I was surrounded by half-naked delicious men lying beside one of the swimming pools or wandering through the gardens. There were two different restaurants and a pool-side bar as well, with every imaginable kind of yummy food.

The sun shone brightly every day and the staff were amazingly friendly and helpful.

I bet you’re all jealous of me, right? Ready to turn bitchy and scratch my eyes out with jealousy?

Well don’t bother. I was wearing a prim, navy blue business suit, with the jacket buttoned up, hunched over a table, stuck in meetings for sixteen hours a day and too exhausted to do much more than have a shower, a meal, and sleep the other eight. I only got to swim in the pool once the whole time I was there and that was on the last day, because I figured I could sleep on the plane going home.

But instead of sleeping on my flight home, I got to thinking, “What if?” and “Resort Romance” was born.

Imogen agrees to accompany Gage and Liam to a resort for a week’s vacation and some extra hot ménage sex. The gardens are beautiful, the meals are delicious and the facilities are excellent, especially the three swimming pools. The men are delicious too, but Gage is bossy and Imogen is not going to be anyone’s sex toy.

But the men are awfully yummy and Imogen is having a wonderful time. Until Gage makes a few autocratic decisions which remind Imogen of her manipulative father. Then Imogen has to decide whether the best orgasms of her life are worth risking potential heartbreak.

Buy link: Resort Romance

Berengaria Brown
https://berengariasblog.blogspot.com/
Friend me on Facebook. Follow me on Twitter.

Thank you, Delilah, for having me. Your support and encouragement have made all the difference.

MY LIFE IS OUT OF CONTROL —
NO, IT’S THE FIRE NEXT DOOR!

Whew! What a whirlwind life can be.

Like so many other unfortunate souls who’ve crashed and burned in recent times, we’ve known what it’s like to go from rags to riches, and then lose it all. Three years of teetering on the edge, I’m finally beginning to get the feeling back in my legs. Long story short, we’re starting over­.

We used to think success, and therefore happiness, was gleaned from what we’ve acquired—things. Life is about so much more.  Meaningful elements like love, good health, and honest friendships are greater gifts than anything money can buy.

I’m sitting in the cozy comfort of our friends’ tiny bungalow writing this post, and I couldn’t be more content.

Of course, having two steady paychecks calms the nerves a bit, too.   

My latest story was inspired by a fiery event next door.  The adjacent property owner raises chickens, roosters, rabbits, cats, dogs and God only knows what else on his small parcel of wooded land. He doesn’t live there, just comes and tends his animals and fiddles around the place.

A couple of psychedelically painted sheds and a dilapidated lean-to give the small compound a 1960s hippie flair. And the long-haired, gray-bearded loner in the jeep only feeds into the conclusion that he’s not all there. He sets fires and burn things.

One afternoon, I thought I smelled our friend’s barbequing out back. You’d think I’d be able to tell the difference between someone grilling food and a brush fire. Come to think of it, maybe I’m not all there either!

But anyway, the fire flamed out of control and the woods caught on fire. There are houses all around, set on five and ten-acre parcels with lots of trees. The possibilities were devastating.

The men in our group were all down at the barn (their man-cave) drinking beer, when my female friend next door came banging on my door screaming, “The fire is out of control!”

My heart dropped to my stomach. “You mean you’re not barbecuing?” I probably had my mind on a story. That’s my excuse, and I’m sticking to it.

I stepped into my flip-flops, grabbed my purse and keys, jumped in my car and called my husband down at the barn. He assured me we were fine. The fire department was on the way.

About that time, the big red fire truck came barreling down the long dirt drive and my heart began to calm. We dropped the tailgate of one of the pickup trucks and sat like idiots watching the delicious firefighters put out the fire. There actually was a yummy fire investigator, to which my friend said, “There’s your next hero, Joyce.”

And Familiar Flame was born…

A contemporary erotic romance

Warning: This story contains sexually explicit content, including anal play and the use of erotic toys.

Brandy rushes to release her neighbor’s pets when an unattended fire rages out of control, only to be confronted by a disgruntled fire-cop who vows to teach her a lesson in self-preservation.

Fire Inspector, Lucas Martin, arrives at the chaotic scene of a fire gone wild, and learns the sexy neighbor narrowly escaped her own demise while rescuing an irresponsible property owner’s animals.

As Lucas returns Brandy to her home next door, he discovers real meaning behind the phrase: Keep the flame burning.

https://joycepalmer.net 

The highs make you giddy, but the lows’ll bury you

I’m Michelle Moore, half of the writing team responsible for the Ylendrian Empire scifi series, and Delilah has been kind enough to let me invade her blog with a guest post today.

The past few weeks have been interesting, to say the least.  Right before Halloween, my other (and most would say better) half, Reesa Herberth, was hospitalized with pulmonary embolisms.  Actually, do you use the plural term embolisms if there are multiple blood clots in both lungs or is it always just a pulmonary embolism singular?  Funny, never thought to ask the doctor about correct terminology.  Anyway, can I say how terrifying it is to hear that someone you love was within a day of dying if she hadn’t gone to the ER?  Pretty damn scary.  You know, just in case you were wondering.

The day Reesa got out of the hospital we got the news that we’d sold our newest novel to Riptide Publishing.   We sweated blood and tears over Peripheral People, mainly because it was a real stretch for us, a mystery with a psychic serial killer (in SPACE!).  Never having written a mystery before, we had a trial-by-fire learning experience, and while we both had the utmost faith in the story, we were still worried about finding it the right home.  So talk about euphoria when Rachel Haimowitz at Riptide contacted us.

I don’t think I’m mentally equipped for extreme ups and downs.  I have a tic in my left eye, I’ve chewed my cuticles to the quick, and if I were given the opportunity to get in bed with Delilah, I’m afraid it would only be so I could pull the covers up over my head and hide!

Anyone else been on an out of control see-saw?  Comment with your gory details for a chance to win an e-book copy of The Balance of Silence or The Slipstream Con.

Michelle