I’m up to my eyeballs in work! For months, I’ve eked out little stories here and there, edited and released golden oldies, but there were so many distractions (kid’s surgery, grandma’s fall) that writing took a back seat. Today is the day I get back in the saddle. I have three things to accomplish today:

1. Work on edits (two chapters) for a client
2. Work on edits of the next Night Fall story, Truly, Madly…Werely
3. Write a chapter of Flashpoint

Not much, right? Well, I have a window without responsibilities or kids, so I’m taking it! Watch me fly! Where’s the coffee?!

Comment for a chance to win one of these stories!
“Attagirls” would be helpful!

Wolf in Plain Sight

“[Wolf in Plain Sight] has suspense, intrigue, and surprises that grab your attention and never let you go until the last page.” ~ 5 Stars, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

“A wickedly funny and passionate series, fans of paranormal erotic romance will enjoy [Wolf in Plain Sight] tremendously. Ms. Devlin has done it again!” ~ Romance Reviews Today

“Her realistic writing of well-packaged vampires and werewolves leaves the reader thirsting for the forbidden and a driving need to be possessed within her erotically charged worlds.” ~ 5 Blue Ribbons, Romance Junkies

To Super-cop Max Weir, the only good vampire is a dead one. Since his special police unit integrated with vampires, he’s had to suppress his natural hatred to work side by side with the undead to hunt down and terminate the deadliest killers. Now the unit’s hot on the trail of a new menace in town, a pack of werewolves prowling for vampires who don’t care whether humans get in their way.

When a stakeout goes awry, Max enters a bar looking for a fight or woman to help him blow off a little steam. What he finds is a winsome siren whose sexual appetites match his own.

Vampire Pia D’Amato is on a secret mission to take out Max–either by seduction or turning him. He’s become a liability to the Masters’ Council setting up jurisdiction in southern Florida, and she’s not leaving until she’s done the job. But Max is more man than she bargained for with a deadly secret of his own.

Enjoy this sexy excerpt!

Pia D’Amato wondered how things had gotten this out of control so quickly.

She’d planned to play hard to get ever since she’d glimpsed him striding toward her. His large, heavily muscled body had radiated hunger, and he’d moved with a rangy, masculine grace that raised her nipples in an instant to full alert. When his gaze had found hers, she’d felt the searing heat of his brand.

Never one to question the vagaries of fate, she accepted that tonight was meant to be.

His golden eyes had honed sharp as an eagle’s on a bunny rabbit. Assholes she could deal with, and she’d prepared her standard rebuff. However, the hint of wary desperation—and his expectation she’d resist—made her hesitate. She’d sensed he needed to win their battle of wills, but that he also needed her to give him hurdles to overcome. Why pleasing him became important mystified her.

Not that she intended to refuse him.

Then she’d found herself uncharacteristically tongue-tied, overwhelmed by his relentless pursuit. At first, all she could do was blink dumbly and try her best not to drool. What woman could resist the mesmerizing intensity of a full, frontal assault?

His gaze had stripped her while she sat on her bar stool. The look he’d given her once he’d finished said he’d staked his claim. If any other man had so blatantly given her that once over, she’d have delivered a set down he’d not soon forget.

But Max was a man like no other. He embodied a mix of strength, stubborn determination, and an underlying vulnerability she was sure he kept buried from the world. Already, he attracted her—madly.

When his jean-clad thigh had scraped the tender flesh between her legs, she’d laughed at herself, at her eagerness to rub on him like a cat in heat. And she’d thought to manipulate him!

All she wanted was him—inside her. Now.

He turned his head, and his hot mouth kissed each thigh, the scrape of his evening shadow glancing against the lips of her pussy. Covered by the sheerest silk thong she owned, she felt moisture dampen them in an instant. As uncomfortable as she found her perch, there was something pretty damn exciting about having all this mega-male’s attention concentrated on the core of her femininity.

His gaze smoldered, and his nose twitched as he inhaled deeply. But he didn’t give her the kiss she wanted. He really was going to wait for her to ask him sweetly before he plundered her body.

The man was blatantly male; he called to her body on its most primitive and elemental level. Built large and rugged, his shoulders were so broad they easily spanned her spread thighs. His biceps were so thickly muscled they strained the arms of his dark T-shirt.

His face was too hard and masculine to be handsome. A square jaw, heavy brow, and a broad nose that was slightly askew on his face, were a match for his rough and ready attitude. He was too much man to manipulate. Too much man to refuse.

His hot breath gusted against the wetness gathering at her entrance, and her belly tightened around a coil of desire so strong she trembled.

But her pride demanded she couldn’t beg for release. Bad enough he’d managed to ride roughshod over her willpower. She still wasn’t certain how he’d managed to get her into this predicament—holding on to the top of a bathroom stall with her legs draped over his shoulders—waiting for him to fulfill the promise in his golden gaze.

And why her? She took a deep breath and glanced down her body. Why had he chosen her? Had she somehow given herself away? Or was she just an easy conquest to him?

While the thought rankled, she had to admit, the evidence was pretty damn convincing. She was after all splayed wide for his taking, her small breasts squeezed beneath the hem of her halter. Her nipples constricted so tightly they begged for attention.

Like she would have to beg if she was ever going to feel the warmth of his mouth on her dripping sex.

And how long had it taken him to convince her? Fifteen minutes? Maybe.

He tongued the crease between her thigh and her pussy, wetting her skin. The air conditioning cooled on her open thighs. The contrast of the cool air on her crotch, and his warm hands, each cupping a bare buttock, drove her over the edge. To hell with who had control. And to hell with the last remnants of her dignity. She needed his mouth on her most intimate flesh.

“Please,” she said, surprised by the husky timbre of her voice.

He kissed her thigh. “I like the way you say that, but I want the words, baby,” he said, and lapped at the fabric covering her sex again.

Her womb tightened. He wanted the coarse, nasty words—the ones that made her flinch. Saying them would strip away any pretense she might want to keep for her pride’s sake that this was anything but what it was—a physical mating, a carnal fuck.

Pursing his lips, he blew a stream of warm air over her damp flesh.

Her breath caught on a sob she didn’t know was coming. “Eat me, Max.”

His lips lifted, baring his straight, white teeth. Not a smile—more an animalistic grimace of triumph. His hands slid from her ass and around the tops of her thighs. They met at her mons.

Oh God.

He bent his head and licked the seam of her pussy through her underwear. He rubbed his tongue over her, pressing into the silk, poking inside her opening to swirl his tongue in the shallow sheath he’d made.

She moaned and felt her womb clench. All too soon, it wasn’t enough. Why hadn’t she taken off the goddamn panties?

One clever hand tugged rhythmically at the strap that rode between her buttocks, drawing the elastic tightly against her anus. The other traced her slit through the crotch of her panties.

“More, please,” she begged, looking away from the hard-faced man who was quickly ratcheting up the heat of his caresses.

“Tell me you want me to fuck you with my fingers,” he said, his voice rough as gravel.

Oh, yes. She pumped her hips, eager for him to hurry.

“No, baby.” He nipped an outer lip through her panties. “Tell me.”

She gritted her teeth. “Please, fuck me with your fingers,” she said, her voice rising. “Please fuck me, Max.”

With his nose, he nuzzled aside the crotch of her panties, and his tongue touched her directly for the first time, delving between her labia to flutter the tip against the notch at the top of her slit.

Pia nearly screamed, biting her lips to hold it inside.

His gaze slammed into hers as he curved his fingers to plunge inside her.

She wished he wouldn’t watch her so intently. She didn’t want to reveal how vulnerable she felt this near to release. Or how close she was to tears at the powerful rush of desire that swept through her.

“Come for me, baby,” he growled, while pressing his fingers deeper. Then his lips closed over her clitoris, and he sucked—hard.

Pia flung back her head and howled, her body shuddering as the coil unwound, pulse by pulse.

When finally her climax waned, she clung limply to the wood, gasping for breath, her body sagging.

He kissed the nest of hair that covered her mound before sliding her soaked panties back into place. “Come home with me.” Not a request. But not exactly a command. His expression betrayed his naked need.

Naked as hers still was.

Her throat closed. This powerful but needy man was her quarry, and she’d betray him tonight.

I’m in writing mode. Head down. Fingers cramping as they tap the keyboard. I’ll come up for air sometime this weekend when I finish the story I’m working on. In the meantime, here’s a little vampire fun. From the pic below, you know there are several stories in this series. I’ll be writing another very, very soon. If you haven’t already read all of them, catch up! 🙂

And to help you do that, here’s your chance to win a free copy of one of the stories! Let me know if you’ve read any of the Night Fall series, and if you have, who is your favorite character? A “no” answer is just fine, and just as valid an entry as a name, because I will be using a random number generator… So get set, ready…go!

Comment for a chance to win one of these stories!

Knight in Transition

“Vampires, werewolves, and babies — oh, my! [Knight in Transition] is a sensual and thrilling ride into the world of the paranormal.” ~ Romance Reviews Today

“Ms. Devlin knows how to use her words to draw you into her story. She has created characters that are easy to fall in love with. When you combine her excellent characters with the great plot, this story becomes a must read.” ~ 5 Angels, Fallen Angel Reviews

A member of an elite police unit sworn to hunt vampires, Joe Garcia’s life is turned upside down when he’s transformed into one. On a quest for a cure, Joe’s search brings him to New Orleans in a last ditch effort to recover his humanity.

Professor Lily Carlson, a renowned expert in vampire lore, has a condition of her own. Her sexual libido has been in hyper-drive for months. Her only defense is to hide behind her glasses and tweed suits and stay as far away from men as possible. However, she’s thrilled to discover vampires really do exist when Joe shows up on her balcony.

Although Joe deflects her attempts to make him a case study and confirm a few vampire statistics, he is drawn by her powerful allure. When werewolves join the chase and track her through New Orleans, Joe’s cop instincts tell him there’s a mystery to solve. Intent on protecting her, he must seek help from the last vampire on Earth he wants to ask.

While his hopes for deliverance from his fate dwindle, Lily’s life is forever altered by an unexpected inheritance.

It had taken Joe half an hour and a quarter pint of blood to find her apartment in the long, white two-story stucco building in the center of the French Quarter. The super led him straight to the door, then walked off, his eyes glazed under the influence of Joe’s suggestion he give his wife a tumble.

It took another half an hour to feed from the man who lived in the apartment next to the professor’s until he slept, just so Joe could climb out on his ironwork balcony and make the leap to hers.

Finally, he stood hidden in the shadows while he watched her through lacy curtains. Her French doors were opened to the sultry night air. With only light from the streetlamp outside to chase away the darkness, Joe could discern every detail of her bedroom. She lay not five feet from him atop pale pink sheets. Naked. Her knees bent; her creamy thighs splayed. So close he could smell her ripening scent.

She was pleasuring herself.

Joe’s cock stirred and unfurled, lengthening by the second as he watched her.

A fan pulsed from the ceiling above her, lifting the gold-brown hair curving over her breasts to tangle with the fingers tugging at her nipples. When her hands moved down her rounded belly, his gaze clung hungrily to the turgid points surrounded by their pale rose circles. His mouth watered, imagining the velvet-soft flesh surrendering to his kisses. Succulent morsels yielding the sweetest gift—her blood from the heart of her femininity.

She truly sealed her fate when one hand glided past the fur at her mons to cup her sex. Joe’s cock pressed insistently against his jeans, tightening when her fingers stroked between her outer labia to caress the thin folds within. Moisture glistened as she rubbed it over her lips, long sliding strokes that dipped inside and swirled outward.

Then her other hand entered the play, and her fingers parted the swollen labia, pulling them back to expose her engorged clitoris. She touched the shiny nub once and shivered as though the spot were too sensitive, and then her fingers glided away.

She circled the mouth of her vagina, dipping her fingertips into the well and spreading her moisture. Liquid seeped to coat her hand, and she brought her fingers to her mouth and licked the tips clean. Soft appreciative groans broke from her throat.

Joe sweated. He’d never seen a woman enjoy her own essence like this one. His body was gripped with the need to shove his cock deep inside her juice-filled channel.

Instead, he braced an arm against the window casing and his other hand went to the hard bulge at the front of his jeans. Desperate to take the edge off his need, he flicked open the button on his waistband and eased the zipper down, shoving his briefs beneath his balls, enjoying the way the elastic constricted. His hot flesh escaped its prison, filling his hand. He encircled his shaft and stroked it, letting urgency fill his loins as he watched her.

Her hand slid beneath her pillow and pulled out a long, flesh-tone object that she caressed like a man’s cock. She sucked the head of the dildo, wetting it with her spit while she closed her eyes. Did she imagine a man shafting into her mouth?

Joe did. His cock pulsed and a pearl of pre-come beaded at the tiny opening atop the crown of his sex. He rubbed the moisture around the tip with his thumb.

She fingered the base of her symmetrical shaft and it hummed, just like his body, triggered by her sexy moan at the first touch of her vibrator to the tips of her breasts. Her mouth opened around a gasp.

Joe’s breath drew in sharply, imagining her taking his cock into her mouth. He squeezed himself, gliding the skin stretched tight as a rubber band over his cock, back and forth, faster.

She circled the dildo on one tit while her free hand massaged the other, the nipple winking between her fingertips. Then she placed it between her generous breasts and squeezed them around the dildo as her body writhed on the bed, her hips lifting, pulsing in the air.

Joe’s hips answered, pushing his cock through his clenched fist, faster now, building heat and friction. He dropped spit onto his shaft and worked it with his fist, gliding easily, imagining the woman’s undulating body convulsing along his cock.

Abruptly, the woman rolled onto her stomach and came to her knees, planting them wide apart on the bed, letting her chest fall to the mattress. Reaching between her legs, she spread her lips and coaxed the vibrator into her pussy, working it inside her, inch by inch, twisting it in her cream to lubricate its length and push deeper.

Joe’s grip nearly strangled his cock. The sight of her pale cheeks quivering in the air, the dildo clutched in her fist pumping in and out, pushed him over the edge. He felt the pressure build in his balls.

Her chest rubbed on the sheets and her hips circled on her hand-held cock, until she cried out and shoved the dildo deep, cramming it inside as far as it could reach with the flat of her palm. She moaned and bucked; her soft whimpers carried on the air. When the pulsing of her hips stopped, she sobbed and fell to the blanket, turning to her back, her legs askew, her hair a tangled cloud on her pillow.

Looking at her quivering belly and the dildo that peeked from inside her body, Joe groaned and spent his seed in a hot stream on the floor of her balcony.

Too late, he realized he’d cried aloud.

True love awaits. Passion burns bright…

Carrick is an Alpha werewolf preparing for the annual Pack Gathering. Pack law dictates he must have a mate by his thirty-sixth year or forfeit his rule. But what if he’s already found her and lost her in a swirl of cinnamon-scented dreams? Can this Alpha brave a sea of single wolfy females to find the one woman who enchanted his heart?

She’s a kitty girl, in a wolfy world…

Sage is the curvy owner of the Hot Whips Café. Bound by pack law, even as an adopted cat, she must attend the Gathering for the Alpha to select a new mate. Heading to a wolf ball isn’t high on her list of fun activities, but damned if she can’t get the image of a certain amber-eyed wolf out of her head.

Release date: February 1, 2016
Publisher: All Romance

Buy link:
Amazon — https://rxe.me/SNMBZA
All Romance: https://goo.gl/IPNZTi

Excerpt:

Carrick stood with his back to his second in command, his wolf pacing beneath his skin. He wanted to break the double doors open and bound into the woods rather than face the torment waiting for him in the grounds outside. Women. Hundreds of single wolfy females. All vying for the privilege of putting his cock and balls into their handbags like some godforsaken trophy.

Fuck.

Ever year he’d dodged the bullet, but this year one of the hungry piranha circling his house would become his mate.

Double fuck. He’d been through this before. He already had one. He just needed to find her, but the elders wouldn’t listen.

“You have to make a choice, Alpha.” Reid crossed the room and stood in front of him, blocking his view.

Carrick growled and spun away. “I’ll find her.”

Reid’s lips flattened, his dark eyes flashing in his anger. “You know the rules. Thirty-six is the last year an Alpha can rule without a mate by his side. The pack needs an Alpha female to be whole.”

“The pack is stronger than it’s been, or are you forgetting how I got here?”

Reid swallowed and backed up a step. “No. Justin was a horrible Alpha. You were right to destroy him. He was wrong for the Westmore Pack. Evil.”

And the bastard had been. He’d abused his power as Alpha to enslave his pack rather than uplift it. The amount of victims he’d unearthed in the days that followed would disturb him for the rest of his days. He could still see the faces of the women Justin had taken against their will and the shivering form of his sister and the strange girl who stood up to a monster.

Hers was the face that haunted his dreams. Her need reached out to him and made him into who he needed to be to overcome a near impossible situation. He had been up against a being far superior in strength but what he lacked in brawn, he’d more than made up for in sheer bullheadedness. And the electricity he felt when he touched her. His wolf recognized his mate and so did he. Now all that remained was to find her. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been looking. No one knew her name and, with her face partially shifted, her image was only a fleeting ghost in his mind.

“You’re damned right.” Carrick leaned back against his desk and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His father would be proud of the work he’d done. He’d turned the Westmore Estate from a near financial ruin to a lucrative operation centered on the newly formed security company owned by him and his second, Reid. Where people had once feared shifters for their propensity for violence because of Justin and his henchmen, he’d turned the tide and people paid for their protection. Handsomely. So much so that when the media had heard about the weekend’s festivities, he’d been dubbed the Ultimate Bachelor.

It made him fucking nauseous.

The one person he needed to find and he couldn’t and it made him crazy. Now, in a matter of a few days, he would either have to relinquish his role as Alpha or marry a gold digging piece of arm candy. The closest person he’d found was a barista at the coffee place he frequented but she didn’t look anything like the girl in his dreams. And now whenever she saw him coming, she hightailed it for the hills.

But she had popped a whisker.

Just like his goddess.

Jesus. He was losing his shit. Completely.

About the author:

Erzabet Bishop is an award winning author who loves to write naughty stories. She is the author of Lipstick, Crave, The Science of Lust, Wicked for You, Arcane Imaginarium: Spirit Board, Holidays in Hell, Mallory’s Mark (upcoming 2016),The Devil’s Due (upcoming 2016), Charity Benshaw’s Enchanted Paddle Emporium (upcoming 2016), Sigil Fire, Glitter Lust (upcoming 2016), Written on Skin, Club Beam, Pomegranate, A Red Dress for Christmas, The Black Magic Café, Fantasies in Red, Sweet Seductions: The Erzabet Bishop Collection, Holiday Cruise, Fetish Fair, Temptation Resorts: Jess, Temptation Resorts: Marnie, Taming the Beast, The Erotic Pagans Series: Beltane Fires, Samhain Shadows and Yuletide Temptation along with being a contributor to many anthologies. Erzabet has been a finalist in the GCLS awards for 2014 and 2015, winning the Goldie for her spot in two anthologies. She has been nominated for the Golden Flogger Award for Crave. She lives in Texas with her husband, furry children and can often be found lurking in local bookstores. She loves to bake, make naughty crochet projects and watch monster movies. When she isn’t writing, she loves to review music and books.

Follow her reviews and posts on Twitter @erzabetbishop.

Links:

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Since I had an author bail on me at the last minute, I had an open spot…

So, since I’m being lazy—I was up at 6:30 to babysit the 2-year-old today, so I’ve earned it!—I thought I’d just post this reminder.

WOLF IN PLAIN SIGHT
Release date: September 22
Free to Kindle Unlimited subscribers!

To Super-cop Max Weir, the only good vampire is a dead one. Since his special police unit integrated with vampires, he’s had to suppress his natural hatred to work side by side with the undead to hunt down and terminate the deadliest killers. Now the unit’s hot on the trail of a new menace in town, a pack of werewolves prowling for vampires who don’t care whether humans get in their way.

When a stakeout goes awry, Max enters a bar looking for a fight or woman to help him blow off a little steam. What he finds is a winsome siren whose sexual appetites match his own.

Vampire Pia D’Amato is on a secret mission to take out Max—either by seduction or turning him. He’s become a liability to the Masters’ Council setting up jurisdiction in southern Florida, and she’s not leaving until she’s done the job. But Max is more man than she bargained for with a deadly secret of his own.

Who loves a good knight in shining armor tale? Or maybe an overlord who’s domineering, who has a friend who’s a bit of a smartass? What sort of woman would attract them both? I “heart” Gisele big-time! She’s tart, smart and lusty.

Well, this is my latest “new-old” story—one I recently got back the rights for. I gave it a polish and my sister made a pretty cover for me, and here it is. I hope you enjoy this peak inside…

And if you answer this question, you will be entered to win a free download of one of these Night Fall stories: Sm{B}itten; Truly, Madly…Deadly; or Knight in Transition.

Are you a fan of medieval tales? Are they something
you’d like to see more of from me?

Gisele, “The Witch of Grimoult”, has ended a long vow of celibacy, taken to ensure her independence from any man. Her new lover, Tibor the sheriff, isn’t any real threat because his reputation assures her he won’t be a possessive man. He’s lusty and charming, but the last thing he wants is to saddle himself with one woman.

When a wolf threatens her livelihood, she seeks aid from the new “Lord Grim”, never anticipating his price will be a night in his bed. What’s a woman to do? Lord Grim’s possessive stare and fierce loving make her crave his mastery of her body. But then, the wolf injures the sheriff, Gisele and Lord Grim pull together to save him from becoming a monster.

Purchase here

Excerpt from Lord Grim’s Witch:

Gisele had heard the new Lord Grimoult was a mountain of a man, strong and courageous in battle and wise as Solomon in his judgments. Which was exactly why she’d come—for protection and justice.

What she hadn’t heard was that he could leave a woman trembling and damp with one searing glance.

The moment his gaze lifted from the scroll spread over the table in front of him, she forgot how to breathe. When the room began to teeter, she drew a deep breath to steady herself and stepped over the threshold into his chamber, all the while scolding herself sternly for the lapse.

What was one devilishly handsome man?

He was flanked at the oak table by another sinfully attractive specimen—one she’d easily resisted a second time after their late-night tryst. She’d sent the sheriff on his way after the wolf had already done its damage.

Just as dark, just as well made, the sheriff had never sent her belly into quivers or caused her nipples to sprout against her gown just from a look.

Perhaps it was the power Lord “Grim” embodied—his will ruled everyone within this demesne, including her. Certainly, her arousal had nothing to do with the thick, black hair that fell in heavy coils to his muscled shoulders. Her interest couldn’t be piqued by the moustache and beard framing a lush mouth any woman would envy. The dark brows casting deep shadows over eyes as black as a moonless sky at midnight weren’t the cause of her fluttering heartbeat or the sinking feeling that quickly swamped her with unwanted reminders she’d remained celibate for far too long. One night with the handsome sheriff hadn’t quenched her need.

She was nervous—that was all. And perhaps primed for arousal by her wicked romp the previous night.

Hopefully, it was just the lure of the unknown. When she learned the new master’s true nature, he would be as easily dismissed from her thoughts as every man she’d ever encountered, including the sheriff.

But she must find his faults and quickly. If she could happen upon the one that would render his appeal null, she’d fare better in the long run. The sheriff had drawn her eye when he’d first taken up his duty—he was handsome and dark like she preferred. Yet she’d catalogued his physical and character flaws to firm her resistance against his beauty. His hair wasn’t a deep, dark chestnut—it was closer to the color of the mud beneath her sheep trough. His eyes weren’t as green as spring grass—they were more like the sludgy moss that grew at the bottom of her well bucket. And she’d cleaned it thoroughly to remove the ugly sludge—just as she had her attraction to the sheriff—after she’d satisfied her carnal curiosity.

Ballocks! The sheriff had caught her staring and no doubt noted her scowl. His sly smile deepened, and he sat back in his chair as though waiting for the entertainment to begin.

Did he think he knew her well enough to surmise her attraction to their overlord?

Gisele stepped deeper into the lord’s chamber just as his steward bent to whisper in his ear.

Again, Lord Grim’s glance sliced through her, and the room began to spin—or were her knees wobbling? Whichever was true, she drew another deep breath and cursed the fact this was the man she’d come to beg a boon. He was too large, too imposing—and far too handsome for her not to stare and stutter in his presence. Even seated, with only his upper body visible, she knew his height and breadth would dwarf her slender frame. And she preferred large men.

“The witch, sire,” the steward said, his lip curling in distaste. “She insisted on speaking with you. Egbert was afraid to deny her entrance lest she curse him with pox. I tried to dissuade her, but she was quite insistent.”

She chafed at the idiot’s derision. Like so many in the demesne, she was welcomed only when her cures were needed. At all other times, she was reviled—even feared. Yet the new lord’s expression held only curiosity as his gaze slipped from her face to her breasts and lower.

Gisele unclenched her hands, which were buried in the folds of her gown and forced them to relax at her sides. She did her best to ignore the heat that singed every place his gaze touched and tried to remember the chill autumn wind that had cut through her gown on the trek here.

Growing more nervous by the moment, she wanted to say her piece and be gone. His lordship would grant her request—or not. The sooner she quit this place the better. She’d never felt so unlike herself as she did standing there, waiting on this man’s indulgence.

“Come forward, mistress,” Lord Grim said, with an impatient wave.

His voice was a smooth, deep rumble that seduced the hairs on her arms and neck to lift, as easily as he must seduce the servant girls to raise their skirts.

She approached him, pride keeping her steps purposeful and her back straight as a post. Thank goodness the state of her stomach wasn’t as visible. The closer she drew to his dark, intense stare, the deeper the shivers that crept down her spine. She tightened her thighs to stem the moisture gathering between her legs.

She curled her hands tighter to prevent reaching up to smooth back her wild hair. So he’d see what a mess it always was—it was but one flaw among many. The preeminent one being her station in this small keep. She was already deemed a hag due to her talent with herbs and the gift that flowed from her hands.

His gaze rose to her face, unwavering, discomposing. Her steps faltered as she drew to a halt, but luckily her long skirts hid the misstep. At the last moment, she curtsied, bowing her head in deference.

“You’ve come with a petition?”

“I have, milord,” she said, cursing the breathless quality of her voice, but she really couldn’t help it. He must be accustomed to women swooning so her slight betrayal of composure should be unnoticeable.

Except the corners of his perfect mouth crimped upward. “Would you like to take a seat?”

Her eyes widened. Sit in his presence? At his table? Even the steward looked askance at his overlord. Did he think her clumsy due to infirmity? She drew a deep breath pulling her affront around her like a cloak. Damnation, but he wasn’t going to make a fool of her. “Thank you, no, sire. I prefer to stand.”

“Your petition,” he reminded her.

Caught for a moment staring into his black eyes, she blurted, “Yes. Um, I’ve come on a grave matter, milord.” Then she frantically searched her mind for her purpose. Good lord, he’d addled her brain.

He sighed. “Take your time.”

“Wolves,” she sputtered, blushing. “A wolf damaged my sheep pen and frightened them into injuring themselves in their enclosure. One is dead. No doubt the sheriff has already told you about the attack.”

The sheriff and his lordship shared a glance then turned back to her, no hint of their thoughts in their shuttered expressions.

“You said wolves?” Lord Grim asked, his voice so calm it piqued her interest.

“I saw only one wolf, sire.” Never would she admit she’d misspoken due to her unease.

His head canted as though the answer to her question held his entire focus. “And you’re certain there’s only one?”

“I saw only one. I don’t know whether there are others.”

“A lone rogue,” the sheriff murmured.

Lord Grim shrugged, giving away nothing of his thoughts. “Perhaps.”

Gisele grew impatient with the questioning. They didn’t appear ready to act quickly. “I demand you do something about it,” she said, more forcefully than she’d intended. “And I would like recompense for my loss.”

“Demand?”

Her chin rose, and despite the fact she knew she must seem anything but deferent to his rank, she stared him straight in the eye. “As you serve your overlord and expect his protection and support in return, so do I serve you and expect the same. Your man,” she said, nodding toward the sheriff, “was keeping watch last night when the sheep was killed.”

“Yes, Tibor was keeping watch, wasn’t he?” the lord said, giving the sheriff a narrowed glance while his fingers drummed the table.

“She refuses to move inside the bailey until we’ve taken care of the problem, milord,” the steward said, sniffing. “I say, she takes her own chances.”

“I’d like to get back to the matter of service,” came the sheriff’s sly murmur.

As a writer sometimes I get so caught up in the business side of writing. Edits, covers, promotion, deadlines, and book signings can all take their toll. And sometimes causes me to lose my inspiration to write.

I just recently got back from a vacation in Charleston, South Carolina and I did something I have never done. I gave myself permission to take the week off from writing and to actually be in the moment and enjoy myself. There were long days at the beach, tours to gorgeous plantation homes and slow walks around the charming city.  I made a conscious effort to enjoy myself and be in the moment.

Once I got back home I was refreshed and inspired and excited to get back to writing.

Every day since then, I take mini vacations. I’ll take a walk around the neighborhood, or go to a coffee shop and enjoy a cup of Chia Latte, or go sit by my little pond in the back yard with a glass of wine.

Writing is the best job in the world and I’m grateful I get to do what I love every single day. But I know in order to write my best I have to be my best.

So the next time you’re feeling stressed give yourself permission to take a thirty minute break and just breathe. You’ll be amazed at how much it will inspire you.

Hell on Wheels…
Werewolf Guardian, Damon Trahan lives by a Code: Protect the Pack with his life. Damon has experienced death and betrayal, now all he wants is the freedom of his Harley and the loyalty of the men he rides with, the only family he has left. Those are the things he knows and believes in. Love and the hurt that comes with it has no place in his world…Until he receives new orders: Rescue female werewolf, Ava Renfroe from a Pack of rogue wolves.

Hell on Heels…
Bartender Ava Renfroe is tired of Alpha males running her life. Being raised as the daughter of a Military General made her want independence more than air—and she has it! Until she’s kidnapped. Damon Trahan, her alpha male rescuer and bossy pain-in-the-ass, is exactly the kind of man she doesn’t want, but try telling that to her libido. His brooding good looks are panty-dropping hot. Too bad he’s bat-shit crazy and thinks he’s a werewolf. Worse, he claims she’s a werewolf too. But when Damon shifts in front of her, she begins to doubt everything she’s known to be true.

Hell to pay…
On the run from the rogues, Ava and Damon can’t ignore the red hot passion between them. But Damon knows it can’t last. Will he sacrifice everything he’s ever known to have the one thing he’s never meant to have? Or will the war between the Packs destroy them before love is given a chance?

About the Author

Jodi is the author of the RISE OF THE ARKANSAS WEREWOLVES series and writes paranormal romance as well as contemporary romance. Born and raised in Mississippi, her deep Southern roots and love of the paranormal led her to write Southern Paranormal novels. When she is not conversing with characters in her head, she can be found at her home in Northeast Arkansas with her handsome husband, brilliant son, a temperamental swan, and yellow lab that is fond of retrieving turtles when duck season is over.

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