I’ve been writing now for a number of years in multiple genres. I can honestly say I’ve never had more fun than I have writing about my Montana Bounty Hunters. So, when I was approaching the last story of the last hunter in the series, I thought hard about what I wanted to do next. The solution was pretty easy.

I’d write more. However, the MBH agency in Bear Lodge, MT was chock full of hunters. I needed my bounty hunter agency to expand, so I chose another location in Montana, fictional again, of course, so I could have more fun with a new set of hunters, and this time, use the town itself as a new “character” in my story. So, welcome to Dead Horse!

The book will be available solely through Amazon, at first. I want as many folks who want to get it through Kindle Unlimited for FREE as possible. I already have the print version uploaded, too. That link will come soon. In the meantime, meet the first hunter in the series…Cage.

A former SEAL and MMA fighter, and now, newly minted bounty hunter, has to hunt down his first skip…his ex-wife.

Former SEAL Cage Morgan thinks he doesn’t need anyone. As a rising MMA fighter, he makes enough to do what he wants and doesn’t have to answer to anyone.

Then an old friend sends an emissary, Reaper Stenberg from the Montana Bounty Hunters, to offer him a job. He agrees to meet him, but he has no intention of becoming a bounty hunter…until he hears who Reaper needs his special skill set to take down—his ex-wife.

Elaine Morgan is facing jail time due to her chosen line of work. She runs an illegal, underground fight club with her brother. Up until now, she’s always run clean, fair fights, but her brother owes money to the wrong people. As she prepares to the take the rap for his poor judgment, she misses her court date—that’s just one more stressor to add to the pile, and she doesn’t have time to worry about the consequences.

Until the night of the fight that will free her brother of his dangerous debt. Only her ex-husband shows up there, telling her he’s taking her in, and he has the friends with him to get the job done. The hunters’ poor timing sets off a chain of events that has the Montana Bounty Hunters staging a daring rescue.

All the while, Cage and Elaine revisit their past love, finding that the time apart put their problems in a better perspective. As their connection grows, they both fear an uncertain future.

Pre-order here!

Opening scene from Cage…

As he approached the front door to the Dead Easy Saloon, Cage Morgan flexed his hands, wincing as he did so due to the deep bruising on his knuckles. Still, sore knuckles felt like a small price to pay considering the size of the purse he’d won the previous night at the MMA bout in Bozeman.

Thinking about the $36,000 deposit he’d made at the bank that morning, he wondered why the hell he’d agreed to this meeting in the first place. Cage’s needs were simple, and the purse would pay his bills for the next four to six months until he accepted the next match.

However, he owed Fetch Winter the courtesy of meeting with his representative to talk about the possibility of a job. He didn’t owe him a “yes,” but he had agreed to listen. Fetch had led the unit that had pulled his ass out of a firefight which had killed several of his SEAL teammates back in Afghanistan a lifetime ago.

From the outside, the meeting place was like any other roadhouse bar. Wood plank siding, a tin roof, and a red neon “Open” sign. He climbed the three steps to the porch then opened the door. Music played on a jukebox, customers lined a well-polished counter, and in the rear, the crack of striking balls and groans sounded from the pool tables.

As he passed the bar, the bartender’s gaze narrowed on him, and then a broad smile spread. He lifted his chin to Cage. “Great fight last night.”

Cage lifted his eyebrows and gave him a little salute but didn’t stop. He made his way to a small round table tucked into a corner of the main room and took a seat.

A waitress with dirty blonde hair so straight it had to have been ironed paused beside his table. “What can I get ya, hon?”

Her smile was flirtatious, and while she was kind of cute for a middle-aged woman in a skin-tight tank with the bar’s logo on the front and short blue-jean shorts, he wasn’t interested in encouraging her to linger. “Whatever beer’s on tap will do,” he said and pulled a twenty from his wallet.

She smiled and moved away, her skinny hips wagging.

She was back inside a minute with a foamy beer and handed back his twenty. “Kip, the bartender, says it’s on the house. He won a pile of money last night on your fight.”

He pushed back the twenty. “You keep it then, and thank Kip.”

Just then, a commotion sounded at the entrance of the bar. “Damn, are you Reaper, that dude on TV?” asked a man who was holding onto the arm of a large man wearing a ballcap who was trying to get through the doorway.

Cage watched as the man who looked like he belonged on a Viking longboat shook the man off his arm.

Cage couldn’t make out what he said to the smaller man, but the guy held up his hands and backed away, grinning. As soon as the big man’s attention left him, he scurried to the bar, leaning over the counter to talk to Kip, whose gaze shot to the big man.

He watched the man in the ballcap grimace then step deeper inside the bar, his eyes narrowing as he searched the counter and then the tables. Cage knew the second when his gaze came to rest on Cage, because the other man tipped his chin before striding his way.

As the man approached, Cage assessed him like he always did, sizing him up as a possible opponent in the ring. They were of a similar height and weight. His arms and chest looked powerful. However, Cage could tell by the way the man moved that he wouldn’t have his same speed. Not that he was planning to fight this guy, but old habits died hard.

The big man stopped in front of his table. “You Cage Morgan?”

Cage nodded.

The man sat and whipped off his cap. “Thought the hat would work.”

Cage’s mouth twitched. “That was supposed to be some kind of disguise?”

The other man made a sound a bear might make just before it took a bite. “Fetch sent me.”

“I figured.”

“Said I was to try to schmooze you into taking a job.”

“I’ve been wondering why he isn’t here to do it himself.”

The other man raked a hand through his long blond hair. “I’m here to set up the satellite office. He’d have come, but he said we didn’t need the big guns. That you’d want this job once you heard what it was all about.”

Cage grunted and sat back in his chair. “You’re the guy in that reality TV show.”

Reaper gave him a dead-eyed look. “If I wasn’t makin’ bank, I’d take exception to your tone, dude.”

Cage snapped his fingers. “What’s it called?” He pretended the name escaped him.

“Bounty Hunters of the Northwest,” the other man said, sounding bored.

“Right!” Cage grinned. “I liked the episode when that wild man chased the bear.”

“His name’s Animal.”

Cage chuckled. “Fits.” He picked up his beer and drew on it, not knowing exactly why he was trying to rile the other man. Maybe it was because he viewed him as a competitor, and his instinct was to start the psych-out before a fight. Or maybe it was because he wanted to make sure the man didn’t waste a lot of time trying to convince him to take a damn job he didn’t want. “Can’t remember your name, though,” he lied.

“Reaper. Reaper Stenberg,” the big man said, his words a little garbled like he was grinding his teeth.

“Right,” Cage said. He took another swallow and waited for Reaper to give his pitch, but the waitress sauntered over again.

Her gaze went from Cage to Reaper, and Cage knew what was on her mind. Too bad for her, he knew Reaper was married, and he flat didn’t get into bed with another man, even if their dicks never touched.

“He’ll have the same as I’m having,” Cage said to hurry her away.

She was back inside a minute and set a beer in front of Reaper. He handed her a twenty.

“No, Kip said it’s free. He watches your show,” the woman said, sounding out of breath.

“Keep the tip,” Reaper said than turned his attention back to Cage.

The woman’s mouth tightened, but she moved along to another table.

“Saw you fight in Bozeman last night,” he said, his gaze direct.

Cage curled his fists and grimaced at the throbbing ache. “McMann gave me a run for my money.”

“You fight well. Heard you came to MMA through less than legal fights.”

Cage gave him a hard stare. “That was a long time ago.”

“Three years.” He took a sip of his beer. “Least, that’s what I hear. Bareknuckle stuff’s not for sissies.”

Cage almost smiled at the grudging compliment. “No, it’s not, but it’s hard on the body.”

“We could use someone like you. Fetch says you were a SEAL.”

Cage straightened in his chair. “I was.”

“Marine,” Reaper said, pointing at his chest with his glass.

“Won’t hold it against you.”

Reaper’s mouth twitched. “We’re building an office here. Broke ground last week. We hope to hire on eight to ten hunters to cover southwest Montana and into Wyoming and Idaho.”

“Sounds ambitious. From your TV show, it looks like you guys are sweeping up all the trash. Sure you’re leaving enough work for another agency?” Cage didn’t know why he asked. He still wasn’t interested, but he was curious about what Fetch was hoping to accomplish.

“America has the highest incarceration rate in the world. Long as that doesn’t change, we’ll have plenty of bounties to go around. And it’s not just bounties on folks skipping their court dates or mandatory drug testing. We help find prison escapees, pitch in on law enforcement manhunts—anywhere our particular talents are needed. Our Bear Lodge office helped bring in a terrorist who was recruiting anti-government whackos intent on building an army here in Montana.”

“That all sounds fine and dandy for someone who wants to be a bounty hunter. I don’t.”

“Well, Fetch thinks you might change your mind when you hear who we’re hunting. He needs someone with your skills to get close enough to make the takedown.”

Cage narrowed his eyes. “My skills?”

“Your experience in those illegal fight clubs. You’ve got connections that can get you inside.”

Cage shook his head. He hadn’t been a part of that world in years. “Not interested.”

“Ask me who we’re hunting,” Reaper said, his expression neutral, his stare boring into Cage’s.

Cage was curious all right, but he didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to know. He’d left that world and never looked back. Had the scars and the tattoo, thank you very much.

“Fetch explained how the money works, right? What a hunter gets as a percentage of the bond.”

“He did. And I still told him no.” Hunting people was something he’d done when he’d been in the Navy, and he’d been damn good at it. However, hunting Americans wasn’t something he had the stomach for.

“Ask me,” Reaper said, his voice lowering.

Cage wanted to tell him to go to hell. But he also wanted to know, because the hairs on the back of his neck were rising. Deep inside, he was still that man, the one who always found his target and always took him out. A cool dread washed over him, and he drew a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll bite. Who are you hunting?”

Reaper’s mouth curved. “Your wife.”

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Wet Heat

It was supposed to be a month in a cottage by the lake in Maine. For Peyton Gerard it was time to recover from not one but three disastrous breakups and try to find her muse again. A successful romance novelist needed to believe in romance to write about it believably, and Peyton had lost her faith in it.

For Dixon “Dix” Amendola it was supposed to be time to rehab his injured thigh from a SEALs mission that fell apart, to mourn the two team members who were killed and to deal with his guilt. Learning the mission had been compromised did nothing to ease the burden of blame he carried.

The problem: the cottage had been rented to both of them by accident.

Put two stubborn people in close quarters—a hot SEAL and an appealing author, add in moonlit nights by the lake, and suddenly they don’t mind sharing. But then reality intrudes, Dix returns to lead a repeat of the mission and all Peyton can do is pray it will be successful and that when he returns, he’ll come back to her.

Excerpt from Wet Heat…

He rounded a curve in the dirt road just as his GPS announced, “Your destination is on the left.” The outside of the place was exactly as he’d seen it in the photo online. The boat Eileen had told him about was already tied up at the little, short dock. The soft breeze drifting in through his open window carried the fresh scents and sounds of the area, instantly soothing him.

What was jarring was the car parked on the so-called grass next to the cottage. What the fuck? He hoped it wasn’t a nosy neighbor just waiting to give him an eager welcome. Socializing wasn’t on his to-do list. He pulled in next to the vehicle and grumpily opened the door and got out. He was just looking around to see where the owner of the car might be when the side door opened and a woman popped out.

Okay, maybe woman was too mild a term. She looked like a miniature lush goddess. If he’d been the least bit interested in female companionship, he’d think maybe his day was looking up. This one couldn’t be more than five foot five, with hair in a rich shade of red framing a heart-shaped face. Her hair bounced around her head in wild curls, in time, he noticed with her breasts that bounced beneath her T-shirt. The strap of a cross-body purse lay in the valley between those breasts, emphasizing their roundness. Shorts accentuated nicely rounded hips, and when she turned to pull the door shut tightly behind her, he got a view of an ass his hands itched to cup.

Whoa there, mister. This is a no-sex time out. Reconditioning, not relaxation. Maybe he should tell that to his cock that suddenly wanted to make its own appearance and deliver a greeting. It was sending him a very painful message which took all his famous discipline to control.

“Are you the housekeeper?” He didn’t even know if Eileen had told him there’d be one, but who else would be here, and with a key?

“Housekeeper?” She stared at him. “Not quite. Who are you?”

He took a moment to note that her face was free of makeup, and he doubted it needed any to enhance it. Emerald-green eyes peered out from beneath lashes thicker than any manufacturer could produce. Her cheeks held a faint rosy tinge and a smattering of freckles. And that mouth—

Yup. Good thing he was on a no-sex diet. He had one goal to accomplish here, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted.

“I’m the tenant. I rented this place for the next month.”

“No. Wrong answer.” She shook her head vehemently. “You must be in the wrong place. I rented this place for the next month.”

A little bubble of anger tried to work its way up through his system. He did not need this. He wanted to get settled in, go for a run, take a swim, and contemplate his future.

“I’m sorry. You must have gotten the address wrong.” He stepped forward, figuring if he crowded her space, she’d retreat. She was nearly a foot shorter than he was.

“Address wrong?” she repeated. Then she held up the ring with two keys on it, jingling it in front of him. “Then exactly how would I have these keys?”

“Don’t know and don’t care. You have to leave.” He glared at her. “Now.”

She stared at him for a long moment then shocked him by breaking into laughter.

“Does that work for you often?” she asked, grinning. “I mean, that whole alpha thing? Get out? Be gone?” She burst into laughter again.

Dix ground his teeth together. What the hell was going on here?

“We have to get this straightened out. Right now.”

“Fine by me.” The woman tugged a cell phone out of her pocket and scrolled through the numbers.

Dix held his own cell up. “I’ll call the rental agent myself,” he told her.

She frowned. “You don’t trust me?”

“There’s obviously some mix-up, and I want to hear the answer for myself. We’ll get the agent to settle it, and then you can just pack up and get out of here.”

“Fine. Then you can just get in your truck and head on out of here.”

UPDATE: The winner is…flchen1!
*~*~*

Just a quick note before we play!

Next Tuesday, I have a new release—the first in the Montana Bounty Hunters: Dead Horse, MT series! If you loved my hunters in Bear Lodge, with their intrepid/accident-prone warrior-leader Reaper, I think you’re going to love Cage, too! Be sure to pre-order your copy!

A former SEAL and MMA fighter, and now, newly minted bounty hunter, has to hunt down his first skip…his ex-wife.

Pre-order here!

Puzzle-Contest!

Solve the puzzle then tell me if your favorite hobby is anything like mine for a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card!

Research: Whatever it takes

One of the questions I get asked the most is, “Do you do a lot of research for your novels?”

The answer is an enthusiastic YES. I write historical fiction, women’s fiction, and romantic suspense/thrillers. Part of the fun of writing a book (for me, anyway) is the research. Yes, it’s fiction, so I can just make stuff up, but I enjoy the journey of experiencing new things—and the challenge of finding a way to do it.

For my latest book Presidential Advantage, I wanted to get an inside look at the White House. Not the easiest place in the world to just drop by for a visit, right? But where there’s a will, there’s a way.

Luckily, I used to be a newspaper reporter, so I applied for press credentials to attend the Medal of Freedom ceremony in the East Room. That event was followed by an official COVID-19 press conference with the Vice President in attendance, so of course, I stayed around for that.

I have to admit, it was a little intimidating standing shoulder to shoulder with the news anchors you see every day on television. Presidential Advantage is about a First Lady who is thrust into the world of politics (and the Secret Service agent who rescues her), so I wanted to be able to provide historical background on the White House from her point of view.

The best part of the day was when I got to go behind the blue sliding door you sometimes catch a glimpse of when the president (or some other high-ranking official) enters the James S. Brady Briefing Room. (I’m not going to go into any detail on what’s there…Top Secret).

If you think getting into the White House is taking a big step for research, it wasn’t my biggest test of faith. For my Phantom Force Tactical Series, I wanted to be able to write authentically about shooting a military-grade weapon out of a helicopter.

So, I did.

The opportunity came when I attended A Girl and A Gun conference in Texas. I didn’t do too bad at hitting targets while hanging out of a fast-moving, dipping, diving helicopter either. It was a blast!

I’m sure some authors are more comfortable (and creative) just making things up, but I need to see, feel, hear, taste, and touch things to make them real for the reader.

I’ve also flown a few hundred feet off the ground in a Vietnam-era Huey and slept in an open field with a few thousand Civil War reenactors surrounding me, all in the name of research.

The fact that I get to experience these things in order to provide hours of entertainment and escape for my readers is why I think being an author is the greatest job in the world!

PRESIDENTIAL ADVANTAGE

An unsuspecting First Lady must rely on a Secret Service agent to discover who can be trusted—and who will do anything to keep control.

WHEN A SHY, country girl from Virginia marries a prominent Georgetown attorney, her life is bound to change. But when that attorney is catapulted to the office of President of the United States, she is thrust into the position of First Lady—and uncovers a world of secrets and betrayals that alters everything she once knew.

After recovering from her initial missteps and negotiating the obstacles of her new public life, Elizabeth Collins begins to understand the nature of politics. But as another election approaches, turmoil in the White House intensifies. Leaks. Lies. Deceit. Deception. People the First Lady thought were friends desert her and the true character of people she thought she knew is revealed.

When the stakes become life and death, the First Lady uncovers the ultimate betrayal and is forced to come to terms with her own role in the political process. Only with the help of Secret Service Agent Clint Brody can she hope to find her way out of danger—and uncover the identity of the real traitor in the White House.

PRESIDENTIAL ADVANTAGE BUY LINKS:
Amazon https://www.amazon.com/dp/B088CS9WV4
Barnes and Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/presidential-advantage-jessica-james/1137023047?ean=2940164077020
iBooks https://books.apple.com/us/book/presidential-advantage-operation-first-lady/id1515085528?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4
Kobo https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/presidential-advantage-operation-first-lady
Smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1021768?ref=jessicajames
Draft 2 Digital https://books2read.com/u/3LDodN
Google: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Jessica_James_Presidential_Advantage?id=aI7mDwAAQBAJ

UPDATE: The winners of WET DREAMS AND FANTASIES are…Pansy Petal, Michelle, and Becky Ward! The winners of MOVING TARGET are…Nooklady, bn100, and flchen!
*~*~*

Happy Birthday to me! And a present for you!

Three people will win a digital copy of WEST DREAMS AND FANTASIES
Love Romances Café Best All Around Book of 2019

Three people will win a digital copy of MOVING TARGET

Leave a comment. I’ll pick the winners tomorrow!
You can find links to these books and more on my web site desireeholt.com

Yes, today is my birthday. I am 84 years young. And enjoyingevery day more. I am a mother, a grandmother and a great grandmother. And guess what? Still writing hot, incendiary romances and pulse-racing romantic suspense. And of course, enjoying every single minute of it.

My journey has been an interesting one. I always wanted to write but between raising three wonderful children and working a variety of jobs, the time just was not there. I finally retired at the end of 2000, but then we were all involved in our exciting move to Texas, building a new home and of course a new life. My late husband, however, was very encouraging and kept pushing me to sit down and write. So in 2005, I finally sat down and actually finished a book. A romantic suspense. TARGET. It’s been through many name changes and revisions but more about that later.

I’d probably still be wondering what to do next if not for SARA—San Antonio Romance Authors—and two women who have had and continue to have a wonderful influence in my life—Delilah Devlin and Elle James. With their guidance, I was able to figure out what the hell I was actually doing.

They were also the ones who told me when Ellora’s Cave had an open submission call, and that opened the door for what was to become an exciting career as an erotic romance author. It also led me to Totally Bound where I still continue to write. And out of that came—what else?— WET DREAMS AND FANTASIES, a box set of erotic fantasies to light up any woman’s dream!

Wet Dreams & Fantasies

AND JUST NAMED BEST ALL AROUND BOOK OF 2019 AT LOVE ROMANCES CAFÉ!

So, Happy Birthday to me! I am glad I am celebrating with all of of you.

Everyone has fantasies, right? The dreams we indulge when we’re alone in the dark. Those secret desires we only bring out when no one’s around. But what if you had a chance to make them come true? What if you had a chance to indulge your wildest, most erotic dreams? And what if, having realized one of them, you then realized there was a whole world out there where you could make all those erotic fantasies come true? For Lisa Graham, it became a journey through every fantasy she’d ever dreamed.

1 – Interlude
Rain-soaked Lisa Graham, unable to get a cab to stop for her, decided to wait out rush hour in a discreet little bar she’d never seen before. She hadn’t ever seen Mark, either, the man who invited her to share his private booth. Nor had she ever done the erotic things in public that Mark coaxed her into. Four drinks into the evening she was feeling totally wanton and completely dominated. And wondering exactly what would come next.

2 -Intermission
Lisa Graham’s erotic memories of Interlude prompted her to visit Danny’s Pub, its strange replacement, but five minutes into her first night there she got more than she bargained for.

Lisa Graham hugged to herself the memories of Interlude, the erotic pub that, it seemed, only appeared when it rained – and brought her unbelievable sex with the stranger, Mark. Scoping out Danny’s Pub, the bar that occupies the space when there’s no rain, she meets Jake, and falls into an erotic whirlpool that has a shocking surprise for her.

3. Game On
It was a picnic, but everyone was nude and Lisa Graham, was about to play the most erotic game of her life.

Brothers Mark and Jake had introduced Lisa Graham to more acts of eroticism than she’d ever fantasized about. Now they had invited her on a picnic, where everyone was nude, the main activity was a game of multiple partners, and she tumbled into new whirlpools of erotic sex. What would be next on the list?

Moving Target

And TARGET? It became MOVING TARGET and the first book in the romantic suspense series, GUARDIAN SECURITY.

They’re trying to kill her, and she doesn’t know why…

Kathryn Holt knows only that she has to get far away as fast as she can. In a frantic, cross-country odyssey, she transforms from pliable Kathryn to feisty, determined Kate Miller, staying one step ahead of the killers on her trail. Then Fate delivers her into the hands of a dark knight with a tortured past. The safety he offers is as tempting as he is.

After having his perfect life ripped apart, recluse Quinn sees protecting Kate as his chance for redemption. He never plans on wanting the guarded beauty, never mind falling for her. Denying the explosive chemistry between them is useless, and as danger closes in, he must fight to expose the killer or risk history repeating itself.

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UPDATE: The winner is…ButtonsMom!
*~*~*

The Montana Bounty Hunters series located in Bear Lodge is complete. However, I’m planning to write a spinoff series, Montana Bounty Hunters: Dead Horse, MT very, very soon. I loved writing the original series, and I can’t wait to immerse myself writing more of these heavy-duty, gritty guys in the near future. Have you seen the cover for Cage, which will release in July? Yeah. His story will rock! Some of the guys you love from the original series will pop up here and there in Dead Horse—after all, they all work for Fetch Winter. Someday, he’ll get his happy-ever-after, too!

Quincy

MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS: Authentic Men… Real Adventures…

Sparks fly, as do inhibitions, when a bounty hunter and a beautician are forced to hide out together from a dangerous criminal gang…

Former Army Ranger Quincy James and beautician Tamara Davis met under less than idyllic circumstances–trapped inside her doomsday-bunker-turned-beauty-shop while he was hunting a skip. Now that he’s settled into his new job with the Montana Bounty Hunters, he knows he’s dawdled too long asking her out on a legitimate date. But then, he gets a new case right in the pretty beautician’s neck of the woods. A dangerous new assignment he doesn’t want her anywhere near, However, NOT bumping into her proves tricky and when they do cross paths, he blows it.

Tamara’s already feeling foolish over the fact she got way too friendly with Quincy when they were trapped together, but then, he never contacts her again. When she sees him on the street in her little town, she’s ready to give him a piece of her mind, but he acts like he doesn’t know her. What the hell?

When the pair find themselves forced together again, there’s time for a reckoning…

Contest

Are you all caught up reading the Montana Bounty Hunters?

For a chance to win a download of one of the stories you may have missed
(I’ll pick three winners!), tell me this:
Are you ready for more sexy bounty hunters?

Here are all the Montana Bounty Hunters!

MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS
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 Quincy

Tamara Adams blew at a strand of hair that flew into her eyes. Her hands were filled with flyers advertising her beauty shop, Curl Up & Dye, and she’d been papering the windshields of vehicles up and down Main Street. This was her latest idea to draw attention to her shop. If something didn’t give soon, she’d have to pay for a station in someone else’s shop, and she’d never realize her dream of owning her own business.

When she came to the line of motorcycles parked in front of S&S, she nearly passed them by. She really didn’t want to attract that caliber of customer, but then again beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Without windshield wipers to clamp against her papers, she used pretty washi tape to attach the flyers and quickly made her way down the row, eyeing the window of the bar with trepidation, because she really didn’t want any ornery biker confronting her about “trashing up” his bike.

Just as she was taping the last flyer to bug-spattered glass, she heard a commotion erupt inside the unsavory establishment. Curious, she strode toward the plate-glass window to peer inside, but the window was dirty and the interior of the bar wasn’t brightly lit, so she shielded her eyes and leaned closer to the glass. What she saw had her eyes widening.

An honest-to-goodness barfight was underway inside. From what she could tell, a bar filled with brawny biker-types faced three equally brawny dudes, but what the trio lacked in numbers, they made up for in sheer meanness.

The two in the center of the bar sent one biker after another flying through the air from well-placed kicks and bone-rattling punches. One of the men wore a prosthetic arm, which he used to great advantage, following his powerful left-fisted punches with thudding body blows delivered by his mechanical arm.

To the left, she watched as a huge orange-bearded man grabbed the third brawler by his collar, only to be head-butted, and while still stunned, swing an arm wide, which propelled him over the hunched body of his adversary where he landed flat on his back and sucking wind.

Curiosity satisfied, and her original gut instinct to give the bar a wide berth confirmed, she moved back from the glass and returned to the curb where she reached over the hood of a car and stuck her pink flyer under a wiper blade.

The door behind her swung open, and she peered over her shoulder.

A familiar man appeared, his gaze sliding past her bent-over body before returning to glance up at her face. His eyes widened for a second, but then he quickly turned his head and walked away.

What. The. Fuck. The man she’d mooned over for weeks, before she’d realized he’d never intended to call her after they’d shared an afternoon of illicit delight, had just walked past her like he didn’t even know her. Not a nod. Not a “Hi, there.” Not a knowing, smirky smile. Nothing.

Her breath caught in her chest as she acknowledged the blow. She’d actually thought they’d shared something special. And she’d been making excuses for his failure to communicate all this time.

Just that morning as Miss Gracie had finished stocking the shop’s refrigerator with her eldercare protein drinks, Tamara had leaned an elbow on her table as she’d sat in her beautician’s chair staring into the lit mirror, remembering how he’d sat there and flirted with his sexy, hazel-green eyes—after she’d zip-tied him to the chair. After all, she’d just been locked inside her bunker by a bail jumper on the lam. The new stranger had claimed to be a bounty hunter, but why should she trust him? His dark beard and intense gaze had sent shivers of awareness through her body.

Okay, so she had a thing for bad boys. Obviously. She’d dated some real winners, but this time, she’d thought…well, she’d hoped…that Quincy James wasn’t a douchebag.

As he strode purposefully away from her, her heart hammered against her chest, and her eyes stung with tears that she quickly blinked away.

No way in hell was he getting away with pretending he didn’t know her. Or worse, that she was bubblegum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Holding her sheaf of flyers against her chest, she ran after him.

When she caught him, she’d give him a piece of her mind. A man did not use a woman and make sexy promises with his eyes. He’d fooled her with his I don’t know how to flirt with a woman bullshit line. She’d swallowed it—and his big cock—and then she’d waited, day after day for him to call. Hell, she’d turned down a date with Mason Jernigan, whom she’d planned to seduce into asking her out on a date before Quincy had been trapped inside her shop. But no! She’d turned Mason down. A good looking man who owned his own small car dealership had asked her out on a date, but she’d held out for the hope of Quincy James, because she wanted more of his wicked kisses.

“Stupid! That’s what I am,” she muttered under her breath. “Thirty fucking years old and I wasted a month of my prime years for you, Quincy James.” She picked up her pace, but although she was running, his long-limbed gait still left her breathless. When he turned the corner to enter a dark alley beside the bar, she didn’t hesitate. She was too mad to take heed of the warning bells ringing in her head. The dark narrow space smelled like old beer and vomit, and her Sketchers made a sound similar to the one they made when she walked across the floor surrounding Miss Gracie’s station where the buildup of hairspray sucked at the rubber bottoms of her shoes.

Ahead, Quincy moved more furtively, running up to the corner of the building to the access road behind the business. She slowed and melted into the shadows, wondering what the hell he was up to, and then he flattened his back against the wall. She did the same, not knowing why, but the tension in his frame transmitted a jolt of fear into hers.

Just then a tall, greasy-haired, bearded man slipped around the corner, moving so quickly he didn’t see Quincy, but he did see her. His eyes widened. “You with those damn bounty hunters, too, bitch?” he growled, not slowing down as he came toward her.

“Not a bounty hunter,” she squeaked. “Beautician.” She raised her flyers to prove her claim, but it was too dark for him to read, or maybe he’d already made up his mind, because the snarl on his face nearly made her wet her pants.

Panicked, she tossed up the flyers like they were a ninja’s magic dust, turned on her heel, and ran for the street.

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I hate to be one more person talking about quarantine or lack of supplies on a store shelf. Like you, I’m sick and tired of hearing news reports or Facebook posts about the state of our world right now. I’m to the point where I actually mute the radio when a deejay comes on, because they always mention the importance of staying safe.

But I’m talking about staying SANE. For me, right now, that’s hard. Writing is my sanity. An escape, a place to go and be with new characters I love and become friends or fall in love with them. But lately, my focus is totally bombed. I look out the window and see yard work that needs doing, and I want to do that instead. I see a layer of dust in my office and groan out loud.

So many of my friends are spring cleaning. While I haven’t gotten that bored or crazy, I have to admit Goodwill might be overrun with all the bags I already purged from our hall closet and my son’s wardrobe. In the course of organizing the world around me into something I better understand, I realized it’s high time that I organized my bookshelf as well. No, not the ones holding paperback copies of all my books. I mean my backlist. MY ENTIRE BACKLIST.

After you’ve written many novels, you sometimes forget which one falls into what series. That got me thinking about why they’re part of that series in the first place. Mostly because years ago I wrote a book and said, hey this fits here. Lately, I wondered if that was true, so I started playing with my titles. That meant stripping down various series and seeing what exactly was going on. As well as asking myself…if I was a reader, what makes more sense?

In the end, I separated a huge grouping of ménage a trois novels—7 of them. Now those are the Ménage à Trouble series. I had a handful of novellas, all featuring cowboys, one of my all-time favorite heroes to write. Who doesn’t love a hat and those buns in Wranglers, hmmm? (I’ve gotten off track. See—I told you my focus is off.) The novellas fit together into the Hardworking Heroes Novellas series. And…that left 4 orphan books. Which broke my heart. All 4 books are solid romances featuring very rugged men. I love them all. So how to organize them…?

We think about organizing as grouping similar objects. All the sand toys go here and the pasta goes here on the pantry shelf. But books seemed harder to me. After days of fretting over these poor homeless books, I finally hit on what makes them all fit together. Each and every one is a second chance romance. BAM! Another Shot at Love series came to light, and I plopped 3 of those into the series, with one in the stages of a rewrite.

Finding a solution for this brain-twisting dilemma made me realize that maybe I’m not as unfocused as I thought. I’m focusing—just on different things right now. And you all are too, I’m sure. I think what I’m trying to convey here is that while you might feel very off-kilter in your methods right now, you are doing what you’re meant to be doing at this point in time.

Even if it’s different, roll with it and be kind to yourselves. In the end, you might look back and find that all your homeless ideas have found a very good spot to live inside your brain.

Much love to all and be sure to escape in books!
Em Petrova

His to Shelter

Eighteen years is a long time to never forget…

Retired Navy SEAL Oswald “Oz” Morgon assembled an elite team of men with skills far surpassing those of ordinary bodyguards. To save and protect is a creed that goes beyond simply guarding their wards—it’s a way of life. And these guys are his heart and soul, his brothers…and the family he’ll never have. Now, his next call is to find the one woman who always had a grip on his heart. Eighteen years ago, he walked away from her. But she’s thrown back into his arms—and under his protection.

As a JAG Corps Officer, Rose Kilbourn never expected to be kidnapped for doing her job. And there’s only one man who can save her. Back in the day, she believed Oz was the man for her. Then he vanished, leaving her with a secret she can’t confide to another soul on Earth.

If Oz had chosen a different path, he might have Rose now. But a man who’s lied, cheated and killed to save those he guards doesn’t deserve the sweetness of a woman like Rose. Still, he can’t help but steal moments while he can, and Rose can’t bring herself to walk away from the happily ever after she always wanted. Now she must decide whether or not to use her secret to ensnare the wild man who must protect her or die trying.

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About Em Petrova

Em Petrova was raised by hippies in the wilds of Pennsylvania but told her parents at the age of four she wanted to be a gypsy when she grew up. She has a soft spot for babies, puppies and 90s Grunge music and believes in Bigfoot and aliens. She started writing at the age of twelve and prides herself on making her characters larger than life and her sex scenes hotter than hot.

She burst into the world of publishing in 2010 after having five beautiful bambinos and figuring they were old enough to get their own snacks while she pounds away at the keys. In her not-so-spare time, she is fur-mommy to a Labradoodle named Daisy Hasselhoff.

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