Archive for June, 2013

My guest today is Siren-Bookstrand author Julie Shelton. Julie was invited to stop by and tell us about her latest novel, Loving Sarah.


Loving Sarah (MFM)

Eight years ago Jesse Colter fled his small town, leaving behind eighteen-year-old Sarah Marshall.  Now a retired Navy SEAL, he’s back and he wants only one thing—Sarah Marshall—preferably bound, naked and kneeling before him.

Sarah has never forgotten Jesse.  He’s been the object of all her sexual fantasies since she was fifteen, as well as the star of nightly dreams that have become increasingly erotic over the years.  So when he suddenly reappears in her life, she warily agrees to let him introduce her to his world—the world of BDSM.  When he also introduces her to his best friend, Adam Sinclair, Sarah faces the challenge of submitting to two powerful, Dominant men.

But Sarah has an even bigger problem.  A stalker.  Someone from her past who is determined to destroy any chance she has at happiness.  Can Adam and Jesse love and protect her?  Or will her world explode in betrayal and violence that will destroy them all?


“Greedy little sub,” Adam chuckled.  He manipulated her slick, swollen pussy lips, sliding them back and forth until one of the frozen red grapes popped from its dewy prison.  It sat, glistening lewdly, nestled between her sopping wet lips like some obscene sex organ.  “Do not come,” he instructed quietly, working his tongue beneath the grape and sliding it all the way up her slit.  He flicked it rapidly across her frazzled clit before pulling the small fruit into his mouth and chewing noisily.

She was gasping like a beached fish, desperately trying to hold off her climax.

“Do not come,” he repeated, squeezing another grape free and looking at it for a long moment before taking it into his mouth.  “God, you taste delicious,” he murmured, sliding his tongue back and forth along the length of her slit, just barely touching that nerve-ridden nubbin of flesh that was the center of both her pleasure and her torment.  “Like sunshine and flowers and sweet, sweet cream.”

She lay there, shuddering and twitching as he tunneled his tongue into the depths of her

cunt, releasing two more grapes and sending her body spiraling up, up, up toward the orgasm that hovered so tantalizingly out of reach.  The orgasm she so desperately craved, yet knew she must not have.  The one she fought with every trembling muscle in her body.

Adam pushed her right up to the edge.  Then stopped.

He straightened, watching her entire body shudder helplessly as yet another orgasm retreated.  He reveled in the power her submission gave him.  Power to control, to direct, to manipulate.  Power to render her helpless against her body’s own dark needs even as he drove her to the ultimate in sexual pleasure.  “You do not have permission to come,” he reminded her as, one by one, he pulled more round red globes into his mouth.  He released her pussy lips and stood up to allow Jesse to take his place.

A sob heaved from her lungs as she frantically fought her body’s brutal need to climax.

Jesse spread her labia apart with his thumbs, revealing her entire slit from her clenching ass hole at the bottom to the portal of her vagina and her clit at the very top.  Her flesh was pink and swollen and dripping with the cream of her arousal.  By now the remaining grapes were held firmly in place within her vaginal walls.  Jesse rubbed his nose along her cleft, lapping his tongue at her dripping entrance, making her shudder and squirm.  Placing his palm over her mound, he pressed down.  “Push,” he said and a grape popped out onto his tongue.

He bit into the crisp flesh and was rewarded with a burst of tart sweetness that blended with Sarah’s own unique flavor, making it the most delicious treat he’d ever eaten.  He ate all the remaining grapes, taking his time to dig each one out, finger-fucking her, building her arousal to a fever pitch.  By the time he finished the last one, she was moaning and writhing and burning with the need to come.  “Please, Jesse,” she begged, her voice hoarse with passion.  “Please….”

“Please what?” he asked perversely, grinning as he slowly circled his finger around  her clit, manipulating the surrounding flesh without actually touching the pearl itself, keeping her teetering on the edge, frantic and desperate.

It was pure torture and she gritted her teeth and stiffened her muscles in a losing effort to

keep her climax at bay.  She knew she wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.  “Please let me come,” she begged.

“I don’t know.”  Jesse tilted his head, appearing to consider.  As he did so, he began tapping his thumb repeatedly against her clit, increasing her suffering a hundred-fold.

Oh.  My.  God!  The breath shuddered from her lungs.  Her muscles clenched so tight she feared she‘d never get them to relax again.  She squirmed as her need to climax threatened to swallow her alive. 

“Whaddya think, Adam?  Has she earned the right to come?”

Sarah’s beseeching gaze flew to her other tormenter, who gave her a sly smile as he reached for her clamped breasts.  “Yeah.  She’s been a pretty good girl.”

“Then come for us, Sarah,”  Jesse toggled her clit, Adam released the clips on her nipples, and she let out a shriek as her orgasm hit her with the force of an avalanche, blasting through her, leveling everything in its path.  Her back arched into a rigid bow as pleasure clenched her muscles so tight, she thought she heard bones snapping.  And while she was still screaming and jerking about wildly, Jesse stood and unzipped his jeans, freeing his iron-hard cock.  Grabbing her hips, he thrust into her, stroking savagely in and out until she came again, her muscles clamping around him so tightly his eyes crossed.

And again she came, with tremors so violent they rivaled a magnitude 10 earthquake,

even as Jesse spilled his seed deep inside her.  He pulled out and Adam took his place until he, too, climaxed, emptying himself inside her still-convulsing cunt.  He remained deeply buried, rocking his hips hard against her, letting the long, liquid pulls of her inner muscles milk every last drop of come from his pumping cock.  There was so much it splatted onto the floor in thick, milky blobs.  Finally, with a hoarse cry, he pulled out, staggering backwards to collapse into the chair behind him, his hand still stroking his dwindling cock, wet and slick with the combination of all their juices.

Sarah flopped back on the table, jerking like a spastic marionette, totally spent, wondering desperately where all the oxygen had gone.

She was dimly aware of Jesse scooping her up off the table and flopping into the nearest chair with her straddling his lap, holding her close, crooning softly in her ear.  His voice came at her from a great distance, gradually fading until there was nothing but silence.  She had passed out.

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Julie has always loved stories, both reading and writing them, ever since she was old enough to hold a book in her hands.  One of her favorite childhood activities was smuggling books under the covers to read by flashlight after she was supposed to be asleep.

A career as a children’s librarian eventually led to her dream career as a freelance storyteller and puppeteer, a business she operated successfully for twenty-five years.  During that time she created and wrote all the original material for a monthly language arts newsletter full of poems, songs, puppet and flannel-board stories, fingerplays, and other resource material for early childhood educators.  For that endeavor she won the prestigious EDPRESS Award for the best educational newsletter of 1982.  She has also written other resource materials for preschool and early elementary teachers.

After moving more than two dozen times in her life, Julie lives in a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia.  Now widowed and retired, she once again has time to devote to her two favorite things—reading and writing—especially her new love, erotic romances.







Julie’s links:







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From time to time, I’ll invite special guests outside of the romance genre to share their books with us. Today, I’m pleased to introduce author AL W Moe. AL is here to tell us about his fascinating novel, Vegas and the Mob.

Spotlight on Author Al W Moe and Vegas and the Mob Cosmic Blast

Cosmic Blast

CoverVegasandtheMobVegas and the Mob

The truth about Las Vegas, unlike the watered-down versions you might have heard elsewhere. Sin City was the Mob’s greatest venture and most spectacular success, and through forty years of frenzy, the FBI watched, listened on phone tapes, and did virtually nothing. Thank goodness for that, because Vegas wouldn’t be what it is today without the Mob!
Two of the nation’s most powerful crime family heads went to prison in the 1930’s, Al Capone, and Lucky Luciano. Frank Nitti took over the Chicago Outfit while, Frank Costello ran things for the Luciano Family. Both men were influenced by their bosses from prison, and both sent enough gangsters onto the streets to influence loan sharking, extortion, union control, and drug sales.
Bugsy Siegel worked for both groups, handling a string of murders and opening up gaming on the west coast, and that included Las Vegas, an oasis of sin in the middle of the desert – and it was legal. Most of it. The FBI watched as the Mob took control of casino after casino, killed off the competition, and stole enough money to bribe their way to respectability back home.
New York’s “Lucky Luciano” was getting a taste of the profits in the 1930’s, Detroit, Kansas City, and Chicago weren’t far behind. By the 1940’s, nearly every crime family in the United States had a stake in a Las Vegas casino. Some did better than others. Vegas casino owners watched-over their profits while competing crime families eyed each other’s success like jealous lovers. Murder often followed.
Purchase Vegas and the Mob at Amazon.com

authorphotoAbout Al W Moe

Al W Moe was born in Cincinnati, Ohio and introduced to the casinos of Nevada at the age of eleven. At the time he had never seen such an amazing array of sights, sounds, and exciting games. Little has changed since that first introduction.
Moe is the author of six books and has written for Gambling Times/Poker Player, Pokernews.com and Casino and Gaming Chips Magazine. His love for casinos and the history of gambling are only exceeded by the thrill he gets learning new casino games and his desire to teach new players how to get the most for their money at the casino.
Moe attended the University of Nevada at Reno and holds a Bachelor’s Degree in Business Administration and Marketing. He especially enjoys the disciplines of probability and statistics.
From Al W Moe:
Casinos and the games they offer have occupied my thinking most of my life. The early casino owners, especially when it involved the Mob in Las Vegas are a fascinating subject. It is amazing the Mob was able to skim the profits of clubs in Nevada for over 40 years. The story of how they did it is even more amazing!
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I’m pleased to welcome author Gale Stanley today. Another favorite author on my buy-now list, Gale is stopping by to tell us about her latest release, Symbiotic Mates 3: Talon and the Falconer, available now at Siren-Bookstrand!


Symbiotic Mates 3: Talon and the Falconer (MM)


Hi everyone!

First I want to thank Natalie for letting me stop by to celebrate my new release – Symbiotic Mates 3: Talon and the Falconer.  


I get asked that a lot. And a few years ago I wouldn’t have known the answer. Then I read an article in National Geographic and the word jumped out at me. The definition of symbiosis is “a mutually beneficial relationship involving close physical contact between two organisms that aren’t the same species.” It can happen between animals, plants, and fungi. Each organism contributes something that benefits the survival of the other.

 Learning about this biological interaction put all kinds of ideas into my head.

My different species are vampires and werewolves—hot alpha predators dependent on each other for their very survival. They’re natural enemies who are suddenly lusting for each other’s blood and bodies…

It’s hard to believe that two years have passed since the first book in the series was released. A lot happened in that time and for a while the series was on hold. I’m happy to say that the revised and expanded books have found a new home at Siren-Bookstrand, and beautiful new covers by Harris Channing.

If you’re not familiar with the Symbiotic Mates leave a comment and your email address for a chance to win the first two e-books in the series – Hunter and the Hawk and Peter and the Wolf. And now here’s a peek at book three.

Symbiotic Mates 3: Talon and the Falconer

This title is offered at a 10% New Release discount. Offer ends midnight CST, June 15th.

[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Paranormal Romance, M/M, vampires, shape-shifters, HEA]

Benjamin Byrd, a lycan falconer, lives like a hermit on the outskirts of Arcadia.  When Talon Crowquill, a vampire-hawk, is shot down, Ben rescues him. Then Ben is mortally wounded and Talon returns the favor. Neither man realizes they’ve forged a connection that can never be broken, and their only hope for survival is to become blood-mates.

Available at Bookstrand:



The full moon always did a job on Benjamin Byrd’s hormones, pheromones, and all the other moans in his lupine body. The cold gray orb pulled at him like it pulled at the ocean tides. It made him do crazy things. Things he wouldn’t normally do. Like go to the Wolf Den.

Ben lived like a lone wolf, but once a month the craving for companionship—spelled S.E.X.—fired up all his nerve endings, and thoughts of the pack drew him like a moth to a flame. Pack mentality was inbred in every wolf. There was no getting away from it, not when a full moon rose in the sky.

So Ben, dressed in a new pair of jeans and a clean black T-shirt, started walking toward the Wolf Den. The closer he got, the more his nerves increased. He hadn’t been back for twenty-nine days, and that visit hadn’t gone well. Harry, the plug-ugly bully, had made a pass at him, and Ben had beaten a hasty retreat. Harry was dead now, and a small part of Ben was glad he wouldn’t be running into the troublemaker tonight. For a second, Ben felt bad. A man shouldn’t think ill of the dead, especially someone who had been murdered. His regret didn’t last too long. Harry had not been a nice person.

Living so far from Arcadia, Ben was out of the loop, but bad news traveled faster than other kinds, and when a pack member was killed by one of his own, that kind of news traveled fastest of all. Hunter Black, one of the alpha’s best enforcers, had torn Harry’s throat out and run off. It was said that Hunter had been granted asylum at the Colony, home of the vampire-hawks. Ben knew Hunter, and in his opinion, if Hunter was guilty, he must have had good reason.

Ben slowed up as he approached the barn-like building that housed the Arcadia Pack’s bar and dance club. He felt eyes following his movement, but he shrugged it off as paranoia. Ben always felt conspicuous around the others.

Entering the club, Ben stood at the door for a few minutes, just looking around. Already, the place smelled of beer, testosterone, and sweat. A few men leered at him suggestively. Ignoring them, and the electronic beat of the dance music, Ben headed to the bar. A drink would go a long way to calm his nerves.

Ben looked for the bartender. Kade was on tonight. He had his back turned, and he was filling mugs with draft beer from the kegs. Suddenly, Ben was very conscious of the way Kade’s ass filled out his snug jeans. The bartender straightened and turned, flashing a sexy grin as if he knew exactly what Ben had been thinking. An unexpected and unwanted jolt of sexual awareness shot straight to Ben’s groin.

Hell, no.

Kade was one hot wolf, but he was cocky and arrogant, definitely not the type of partner Ben was looking for. The bartender intimated him. Already Ben felt his tongue tying itself into knots.

Kade set the mugs on the bar and came over to take Ben’s order. He stared at Ben’s hand on the bar. Ben’s eyes followed the direction of Kade’s gaze.

“Sharp talons,” Ben gave out a shaky laugh. “I wasn’t wearing my glove.”

Kade’s sneer of contempt and ridicule cut deeper than the talon marks on Ben’s hand. “So, what’ll it be, birdman?”

“Bud Light,” Ben replied in a voice so low, the bartender couldn’t hear him.

“What was that again, birdman?”

 “Bud Light,” Ben said, a little louder this time.

 “A Stud Light for the birdman,” Kade said loudly. Everyone laughed and the bartender set a bottle in front of Ben. “You spend too much time with those damn birds,” Kade spat. “You need a real man in your cage, someone who will ruffle your feathers.”

“Like you?” Ben retorted, hackles rising. He hated Kade’s condescending attitude.

 “You should be so lucky,” Kade declared extravagantly.

 Fuck you! Biting his lip, Ben grabbed the beer and moved away from the bar.

 I shouldn’t have come.

 Slipping through the pack of bodies, he made his way to a shadowy corner and leaned against the wall, trying to ape the attitude of the other wolf-shifters. It wouldn’t work. Ben had never been like the others, and no matter how much he pretended he was, everyone in the pack knew he was different. Too small. Too serious. Too much into birds.

Happy Reading!

Gale Stanley

 Website: http://galestanley.net/

Blog: http://galestanley.blogspot.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/galestanley

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/GaleStanleyBooks


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I’m thrilled to welcome bestselling author Cerise DeLand! Cerise’s work is always on my BUY NOW list. Take a look below and you’ll understand why you can’t go wrong with a Cerise DeLand book!



BUY LINK: http://www.ellorascave.com/steal-me-away.html

Fancy Turner knows it isn’t wise to hunger for the touch of the virile Comanche chief, Bull Elk. She should catch a husband from among the few men who returned to Texas after the Civil War. But tall, bronze Bull Elk, in his feathers and buckskin, is so handsome—and forbidden.

When Bull Elk charges onto the ranch one morning and catches Fancy up in his arms, he knows he risks the anger of his own braves and the fury of the long knives to have her. He’ll risk everything to twist her golden hair in his fist, to caress the pale swell of her breast as no man has before him. He’ll have Fancy as his wife even if he has to fight his own people to make it so.

Thrust into a world she doesn’t understand, Fancy expects Bull Elk to take her. But never in her darkest fantasies does she expect to enjoy it so much. Bull Elk’s touch is possession, his kiss a brand, and to her shock Fancy finds that the only future she wants is the one she imagines in his arms.

Copyright, Cerise DeLand 2013, All rights reserved.


She was mine. Only one other man, my younger brother, would ever be allowed to touch her again. And only if I gave him permission. As I sat there with her in my lap, testing my patience as my cock grew twice its normal size, I took my time caring for her. I kneaded her aching limbs and demonstrated how I would protect her, even from the likes of Knows Brown Bear. He deserved to die by my knife for his audacity to fuck her. That upstart had been an animal himself, having taken my happy youngest sister when she was only twelve to his tipi. There he had plunged his rod inside her so violently, she had bled and died days after. Now Knows Brown Bear was dead at my hand for daring to touch the woman who would be my wife, my Shining Moon.

I ran my hands over Fancy’s injured foot and knew she had twisted her muscles. To cure this, rest was best but we were far from our new camp. To marry me with a light heart, Shining Moon must learn that in addition to being her protector, I was kind. And so I tried the Anglos’ way to win a woman’s love.

I seized a crystal length of her hair and wound it round my wrist. I smiled while I drew her mouth to mine. She gazed upon my lips too long to be uninterested. That she was intrigued swelled my pride and my cock. I had much to show her about how a Comanche loved his wife and I would begin with this command. “Kiss me again, my moon.”

She jerked away. “I am surprised that you know how to kiss.”

I gave her the distance her shock and her pride demanded while I stared into her glorious blue eyes. “I do know very well,” I said with humor.

She did not smile. “You know much about us. And you speak English very well.”

I nodded. I was calm. Why not? Her flight from me was unnecessary. “Thank you.”

She shivered beneath my hands but her words were quick and bold. “How did you learn?”

“My father’s brother took an Anglo woman to wife.”

Those large, expressive blue-bonnet eyes widened in shock. “Took her?”

I would tell her what was necessary to show we were not evil and that if she opened her mind, she could learn to love us. And me. “She never returned to you. She never wished to go.”

Shining Moon swallowed hard, her nostrils flaring as she considered that. The idea that an Anglo woman would accept a Comanche stung her, but clearly it did not appall her. That confirmed for me that she was a smart woman, able to learn new ways without regret. “What is her name?”

“Bird Sings.”

“But…her white name. What was it?”

I shook my head. “This I do not know. You may ask her. She taught her language to me, my young brother, White Hawk and my sister, Willow Talks.”

“That’s how you can talk so easily with Herr Mannheim and the MacRaes at the powwows,” she said with some awe.

I agreed. “We make peace.”

She grabbed my hand and beseeched me with passion swimming in her eyes. “Oh, but Bull Elk you must realize that this capture will end the peace.”

I hoped not. Yet I had not watched my father and his father lead our people against the settlers all my life without the understanding that they were eager to ride off and kill others. My decision to take Shining Moon as my bride had been a heavy burden upon my mind for many months. Despite the cost to peace in these hills, I had seized her. Even the Great Spirit had confirmed for me in a dream that her men would not find her until she fled a fireball. I would keep her from any such conflagration and firmly in my bed, her legs spread wide for me to pleasure her. “I will have you.”

Her back stiffened, straight as an arrow. “They will come for me. Send out war parties. Hunt you down.”

“I do not fear.” And this was true. My mind was quiet. “Your men are few. Brother has killed brother in your war for many years.”

“Yes, even Sheriff MacRae and his older brother, the Ranger fought each other. But those two are strong and can gather many men from Austin and San Antonio.”



“No,” I said with more compassion, then I spread my fingers and ran them through her hair. Her curls felt thick and heavy, soft as the down of one of their lambs. With unrelenting power, I drew her lips to mine and spoke upon her flesh. “I am stronger and I will keep you.”

I kissed her then, her mouth all mine. Her will, floating into mine. Her body, pressing against mine. The persuasion she did not like. But at the feel of my tongue at the seam of her lips, she sighed and opened for my invasion. My tongue sank deeply into her cavern. As I predicted she would be, she was eager for me. And warm. And wet.

As her pussy would be for me tonight.

She broke our kiss. Her body heaving with outrage that she met my desire with her own. She pushed the flat of her hand against my chest and the tattoo I had the medicine man make for the sign of our coming union. “I will not be your slave. I would die first. I would find a way to—”

“Do not die.” I covered her hand with my own and ground her palm against my aching nipple. “Live with me.”

She struggled to wrench away.

I would not let her go. With a grunt, I shoved my hand between her legs, she wore no covering to her cat. That I liked and grinned at her, sweet woman that she was. Beneath my fingers, she grew hot and I was tempted to lift her skirts and stroke her juicy flesh. She would admit tonight that she belonged to me. I would show her how well my lance would fill her. This plump gatto, I would tame and pet and suck. “I am yours and soon, you will be mine and no other’s.”

Cerise DeLand: History Nut or Why I Like Comanches!  

Say what?

Yes, living in Texas and being a history nut, I have read a lot of the State’s history.  Anglo women were often stolen by the Comanche Indians and taken as hostages, prisoners and sometimes kept and made their wives.

Many Anglo children were captured by the local natives who became furious at the intrusion of the white man into his hunting and burial grounds. Then when cholera afflicted so many Indians and when measles and mumps felled thousands more, the natives stole children to replace the ones who had died. Many times, young women were abducted and taken to replace the wives the Indians had lost to death and disease.

In 1836, Cynthia Anne Parker, a 9 year old Anglo girl who grew up to marry a chief and bear him four sons and a daughter, was the first of these Anglos stolen. Texas Rangers, sheriffs and many local posses searched for the child for years. Not until she was an adult did her uncle take her back to her family. But once among them, she disliked the life and ran away. Yes, she returned to her Comanche husband.

Why did she return?

I venture to say she returned because she had been nurtured in that native environment and she felt out of place among her Anglo family and neighbors. Stories abound of white women and men who had been taken by Indians and returned, but were then shunned by their families and friends for their association.

Could she have loved her Comanche husband? Yes, she could have. We love what we know and what we revere. We also come to love the characteristics of a person, seeing beyond a person’s race or color or ethnicity.

 But I will say that life among the Comanche was far from romantic. In my newest EC release, coming soon, STEAL ME AWAY, (no cover, no release date yet) I tell the story of an Anglo woman, Fancy Turner, stolen by a Comanche chieftain in the Hill Country of Texas in 1866.  Fancy knows Bull Elk because she has seen him at powwows among the Comanche and the settlers. She likes him for his willingness to come to a powwow. He speaks English and a bit of Spanish, as many did because they had to do so to get along with the Anglo and Tejano settlers.

He understands many of the Anglo customs and so he does not insist that Fancy have her blonde hair coated with bear grease on their wedding night. He is distressed for her when she cannot easily digest their meat-based diet. When she asks him to get peaches for her from the German farmers near Fredericksburg, he tells her he will have to steal them. Conflicted that he must take from her friends to help her, nonetheless she doesn’t stop him. She needs to eat fruit.

Yes, I have written a romance—an erotic one at that. I did make Bull Elk an Alpha male worthy of a woman who adores him. But he is also of his own culture.

And he is very heavily researched!

I hope you like him when he appears on the digital bookshelves. He is a good man, albeit not one of our time or our culture. He stole his wife, made her love him and kept her with the power of that.

We can forgive the man we love for many acts. Including stealing us from our pre-conceived notions of who we can and cannot love.


TIE ME DOWN:  http://amzn.to/VCiIfA

ROPE ME IN:  Ebook: http://amzn.to/13aBAob

                            Print: http://amzn.to/UrcFHn

Come visit me: Website        Blog               Twitter @cerisedeland


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Cowboy Boots and Untamed Hearts (MFMMMM)

Sydney Kane stood fifty yards or so away from her father and bent her ear. Several men, dressed in their thousand-dollar suits, gathered around him. They were from one of the federal agencies, or so she believed, and arrived with one purpose in mind—to describe a new danger looming. Sam Kane’s involvement in a past operation resulted in these men showing up at Sydney’s front door…again.

 Something, or someone, threatened their lives once more. She wondered when, if ever, her father would tire of his business. He once told her in his line of work, men didn’t walk away. She’d read between the lines. Some people never enjoyed a simple life and Sydney accepted her fate. She didn’t have to like it.

 At six foot five, Sam Kane towered over most men, even those standing in front of him appeared small in comparison and they looked intimidating enough. One in particular held her attention. 

He was almost her father’s equal in body type, with a solid build and long, thick arms. He was handsome, probably in his late twenties, as if age mattered when a man looked all rogue and prepared for anything. He stood out more than the others with his two-day old beard, set jaw and visible determination. After she spotted him, Sydney hardly noticed in any of the other men. Without a doubt, the operative in front of her was there to protect her.

 He allowed his sunglasses to drift off the bridge of his nose while another agent gave specific orders and described upcoming plans. The simple act, while hardly extraordinary, gave the younger guy instant bad-boy appeal.

 Sydney wasn’t fooled.

 Sexy came easy for men like him, but his job came first. While he didn’t necessarily look dangerous now, she understood more about him than most women might notice without a first introduction. The man standing next to her father delivered death when ordered. He had a heart-shaped mouth and kissable moist lips, not that she cared. Her father’s pawns rarely offered her companionship. Still, after a first look, Sydney was hooked.

 Cowboy Boots and Unfinished Business (MFMMM)

Dusty leaned over Benson’s blood soaked body. He was almost unaware of the warzone they’d entered, uninterested in the shots firing around them. In the distance, he heard Veronica yelling, screaming bloody murder, wanting them to retreat.

“Fucking hell!” Dusty screamed out, cradling his brother’s neck. “Dear God, no! Don’t take him! Please, God, no!”

Logan fell to the ground on the other side of Benson’s body. “How bad?” He gasped when he saw for himself.

It was bad. Sure as all hell, it was bad.

This was how death looked when it came unexpectedly, claiming the young, a man far too young to die; their brother. They might as well have pulled the trigger themselves. They left him without backup. Now, he lay dying in their arms.

Benson strained to raise his neck, spitting blood as he tried to mutter something.

“Shh,” Logan said, trying to soothe him. “Don’t talk, Benson. We gotcha, kid. We gotcha.”

Dusty watched his brother struggle for air, fighting to live, afraid—as he might have been—of the death waiting to claim him.

“Benson,” Logan shook him. “Benson, don’t you die on us, damn it!”

 “Tell Kelsie…I’ll be…seeing …her.” His brother gurgled blood, the last words he’d speak barely audible but, nonetheless, formed.

Logan bowed his head, and Dusty grabbed Benson by the collar. “No! No! You don’t get to die! Not like this!”

Benson’s eyes set, and Logan released him, reluctant to move but at least able to keep his wits. He barked an order, and Dusty shook when he heard the authoritative tone. “He’s gone, Dusty,” Logan said, looking over his shoulder. “On your feet, soldier! We’re surrounded here. We’ve got to fucking move!”

“No!” Dusty screamed, shouting out in an ear piercing, toe-curling scream. “No! Fuck no! God, no! You can’t go!” He continued screaming, his cries so ridden with agony, every man, woman, and child within a hundred miles would’ve known what had transpired there if they’d stopped and listened.

Clutching his brother to his chest, Dusty rocked him back and forth, recalling too many memories in a short period of time. A flash of smiles, battles fought side by side, and happier days formed so many passing images, too many to sort. And he continued to rock back and forth. “Benson, please.” He gasped. “God help us, you can’t go. I won’t let you go!”

“Dusty, move!” Logan screamed, trying to yank him from the ground but unable to withstand Benson’s dead body weight and Dusty’s limp form.

 “You’re going to die out here! Damn it, get the fuck up! Dusty! We need you to snap back right now! Kelsie and Veronica are counting on you!”

 Veronica’s loud cries in the distance echoed around him. “You have to get out of there!” The anguish in her voice came across clearly when she added, “Move! Now! There’s no time!”

Dusty felt like he watched the whole ordeal in slow motion. He saw bodies fall from the trees a few seconds later. Grenades were tossed so rapidly they crossed one another in mid-air. Logan stepped in front of him, taking a wide stance as he used a machine gun and shot off several rounds and then fired a dozen more, like a spray of ammunition would keep their enemies back long enough for Dusty to retreat, and haul Benson out of harm’s way.

Only, Benson didn’t need protection. But by God, their enemies would seek plenty.

The battle had begun. The war lay straight ahead.

Dusty rose from the blood spilled, clutching his weapons, securing one in each hand. Releasing a final cry for the brother he’d lost, he stood in front of Benson’s body, ready to fight, willing to die. At his feet, his brother marked the spot of the first fallen soldier. He’d be damned if he’d let his enemies have another.


Cowboy Boots and Unsettled Debts (LoveXtreme)

“She’s here,” Fowler said, rubbernecking like he thought she might be under the table.

“What the hell are you doing?” Porter asked, lifting the tablecloth to check out whatever it was that just bumped against his ankle.

“I lost my shoe,” Fowler replied, behaving like a geek. Sometimes Porter wondered how Fowler made it through training much less became one of the most respected agents in the Underground Unit.

Ace tapped his ear. “I lost transmission. Maybe she went back outside.”

“I’m here, Ace.” Abby’s voice filled Porter’s ear. Everyone at the table jerked to attention as her sultry voice came through the equipment loud and clear. “If you and Porter hadn’t been checking out that waitress, then you would’ve known this. Give me a minute and I’ll join you.”

“Where are you?” Porter asked, immediately on guard when he couldn’t find her. “How the hell are we supposed to provide backup if she won’t stay where we can see her?”

“Don’t worry, honey. I’ll be home soon,” she teased.

The others laughed, and Porter shook his head. “I swear, by the time this mission is over, we’ll all stand in line to spank her.”

“Yeah, buddy,” Fowler mumbled, shifting in his seat, an apparent last-ditch effort to slide his foot back into his shoe. “I’ll be sure to tell her to hold still.”

Porter felt a grin tug at his lips. Fowler was right. The day Abby submitted to any of them would be one for the record books. And if any of them tried to paddle her ass, they’d probably start a war, complete with guns, bombs, and grenades.

Ace pulled out his wallet and slapped a credit card on the table about the same time their drinks were delivered. “Start a tab for us.”

“No problem,” the waitress said, batting her eyelashes as she picked up the plastic.

“That’s gonna get real old. Real fast,” Ace said after the cute one walked away. A beat later, a long whistle fell from his lips. “Holy fucking shit!”

Fowler went from bright eyed and bushy tailed to just plain pale. Porter turned around and immediately stood, rushing the source behind Ace’s gasp. And apparently Abby put the other two in cardiac arrest. They lost their ability to speak.

“What the hell are you doing?” Porter asked, grabbing Abby’s arm and squeezing the daylights out her warm skin. Good Lord, she smelled so sensational, but the scent of warm vanilla lotion and berry shampoo wasn’t his undoing. The fact that she was dressed for sex and looked hotter than a sizzling iron skillet was enough to make him forget his place.

His cock immediately stretched forward. He was hard, so painfully erect, he thought for sure his tip would rip through his khaki pants. Unfortunately, they were snug enough for his dick to leave a mighty visible impression.

“Watch it, Porter,” Casey said, wagging his finger toward his breeches. “You look like you’re ready to reach out and touch someone.”

Fuck someone was more like it, and not just anyone, which was the problem. In recent months, Porter tried to hide his growing interest in Abby, but putting aside emotions had become more difficult. He was hopelessly in lust with Abby Rose and she knew it, along with everyone else on the team. Hell, anyone within a hundred feet could see the way he responded to her.

“Porter, you’re hurting me,” she whined, trying to wiggle free.

“Like hell I am,” he said, pressing his thumb to the underside of her arm. “What are you doing wearing this?”

“Let her go,” Ace said, taking a gulp of beer. When his gaze met Abby’s, Porter could’ve sworn Ace was about to grab her by the arm and pull her out of that club.

Tossing her golden hair over her shoulders, Abby deliberately bowed her head and lowered her eyes, acting as if she were already practiced in the school of submission. Every man seated at the table stared at her breasts.

He could only imagine what they were thinking.

“Keep that up and I may toss you over my shoulder and haul you off to a private room, darlin’,” Ace told her.

Leave it to Ace. Porter didn’t have to wonder what was on his mind for longer than a minute.

Abby raised her eyes. “Careful, Ace, don’t play the high card until you’re ready to win.”

He chuckled, threw his arms over the back of the booth and looked around the room, acting uninterested in further friendly banter.

Porter couldn’t imagine why. “Didn’t you have anything decent to wear?”

 “If you don’t let go of me right this minute, I’ll knee you where the sun never shines and make you whip that thing out right here so I can kiss it and make it better.”

Ace turned his glass up and drank to that. Ducking his face under that ridiculous blond cape he typically wore in a ponytail, he grumbled, “If you kiss, you’d better be prepared to suck, love.”

“I will,” she snapped, glancing at Ace before addressing Porter once more. “I mean it, Porter. Let me go or you’ll have more than you can handle.”  

“Promise?” Porter asked, wishing. “I’d love to see a pretty vixen on her knees just for me.”

Abby’s gaze darted to the table. “Would someone put a leash on this tiger? The other patrons are starting to stare.”

“No wonder,” Ace said, refilling his beer glass. “They’re looking at the hottest piece of ass to ever walk in this place.”

“Ah, Ace,” Abby crooned. “You’re making me blush.”

Porter studied Abby’s chosen attire. Sweet sunshine, she made his dick hard.

Wearing a liquid tank with matching spanky shorts, Abby sported a garter belt attached to studded black stockings and boots. A black leather choker clung to her neck for show while the matching cuff bracelet closed around her right wrist. Topping off the sexy siren, a biker-style cap was pulled low over her eyebrows.

After a head-to-toe appraisal, Casey whistled. “Let me guess. Brantley took you shopping.”

Abby shook free of Porter’s tight clasp. “For your information, I had this in my closet.”

Ace started to tilt his cup again but paused short of a sip. “You what?”

“My sentiments exactly,” Porter said, reclaiming his seat.

“You heard me, Ace,” she purred, licking those too-red lips.

Porter couldn’t remember a time when he’d seen a better-looking woman. Oh sure, he’d had an itch for Abby since they’d first met. But now he knew how a woman could make a man burn. The yearning was intense, too, he thought, as he slipped his hand under the table and adjusted his cock. He didn’t care if Abby noticed.

She pretended she didn’t. Something he viewed as a true act of defiance.

“Well, I can’t say we don’t learn something new about you every day,” Fowler said, pouring a beer.

“Boys, you really should get a grip on those weapons in your pants if you’re tagging along on this ride.”

Ace sneered. “I’m not the one playing with my poker.”

Porter grunted, leaned back in the booth, and let his eyes take a vacation. “Goodness gracious, sakes alive, I’ve never in my life seen…” He stopped midsentence and bowed his head. “Our man is here. He’s at your four o’clock, princess.”

Abby leaned over the table, pressed her arms against her breasts, and flaunted the best rack Porter had observed all year. “Make this good.”


Cowboy Boots and Unadulterated Pleasures (MFMMMM)

They were settled within an hour of Brock and Riley’s departure. After locking down the house, Crue met Colt in the hallway outside the master bedroom.

“What is it?” Colt asked. “I know that look.”

“Something isn’t right,” Crue said. “It’s a gut feeling I have.”

“We’re safe here,” Colt assured him. “We’ll all feel better in less than an hour.”

“Maybe,” Crue said. “I’ll have another look around.”

“Take your time, little brother,” Colt said, slapping him on the back. “I won’t miss you.”

As they turned in opposite directions, Colt heading to one end of the house and Crue walking to the other, a spotlight shone inside, lighting up the corridors. The perpetrator was close in proximity, leaving them blinded by the light.

“Go get Kelly,” Crue said, grabbing a pistol from behind a wall clock, a special design built to house several weapons. Cautiously, he approached the terrace doors. “Who’s there?”

“Mr. Candy?” Several knocks turned into pounding fists. “It’s Father Paul.”

Colt stopped outside the bedroom door. “Father Paul?”

“Just a minute, Father,” Crue called out, returning the pistol to the clock.

“Who’s at the door?” Kelly asked, tying the sash around her robe as she left the bedroom.

“It’s Father Paul,” Colt said, cupping her waist and steering her back to the bedroom.

Glancing over Colt’s shoulder, her eyes widened. “Crue! Get down!”

Glass shattered as bullets ricocheted off the furniture. Machine guns were the weapons of choice as their new home became ground zero for an outright battle.

“Fuck!” Crue slammed his fist against the floor as he crawled to the wall where he’d just concealed his weapon.

At the same time, he saw Kelly. “Wait! Damn it! No!”

Taking off at a running jump, she darted down the hallway. Footsteps resounded as Colt and Brand tried to stop her. Bolting through the air, she took a sudden leap and grabbed the door to the clock cabinet, swinging it wide and tossing guns to the fellows as if she’d been working combat in war zones for most of her life.

“Stay down, Kelly,” Crue grated out, squatting beside her once he followed her to the kitchen.

“Crue, I’ve got this,” she said, standing up and firing multiple shots at an intruder.

Pursing his lips, he stood next, taking three shots and then pivoting to his left, where he took four more.

“How many?” Colt screamed out, somewhere in the darkness.

“Now how the fuck would I know?” Crue asked, reloading.

Shadows moved down the halls and Crue held his breath. He slid a protective arm around Kelly’s waist, holding her back. “It’s Colt. Be certain of your target!” The little vixen was trigger-happy. She was ready to blow his dear brother to kingdom come and not in a way he might enjoy.

“I wasn’t going to shoot,” she grated out.

“Wait here,” Crue demanded, peering around the chopping block.

A man dressed in a priest’s robe stalked him. “Father, what’s this all about?”

His gun was drawn. “Crue, let us have Kelly. It’s an eye for an eye in this business. You know how it works. She can’t live here. She can’t continue her life as if nothing happened. Her father cheated a lot of men out of their family fortunes. Someone has to pay.”

Crue felt a stabbing sensation in his chest. He had feared this kind of retaliation, dreaded the day when his worst nightmares might be realized. “What do you say we just settle this another day and in another way, Father? Colt and I can cut you a check. No one else has to die.”

“Can’t do it, boy. That’s not how things work in the desert. Sure as hell isn’t how things work over the hill in Death Valley.”

“I’ve never met a cursing priest,” Crue said, watching his peripheral. He had values and morals. The last thing he wanted to do was shoot a man of God, if in fact Father Paul had the big man’s blessings.

Father Paul sneered. “I doubt you’ve ever stepped a sorry foot in a church, boy. Now, hand over the girl.”

“‘Hand over the girl,’” Crue drawled. “Where have I heard similar demands? Hmm…mob movies, live abductions at Daniel’s place…” He deliberately let his voice trail. “You want the girl, Father Paul?” Raising his weapon and spreading his legs in a wide stance, he dared him. “Come and get her.”



Cowboy Boots and Inexpressible Longing (MF)

“I’ll enjoy killing that motherfucker,” Drew said, gripping his sniper rifle as Manny raced toward Henderson. Located about twenty-five minutes from the Vegas Strip, Esparza’s compound was heavily guarded and surrounded by barbed wire fencing. They would meet opposition as soon as they arrived there, if not before.

“He won’t just hand her over.”

“Did I ask you, Zelmore?” Drew snapped, adjusting the sights on his weapon.

“Remind me to beat the hell out of him when I’m feeling up to it again,” Scott said, glancing at Manny. Returning his focus to Drew, he added, “Show some appreciation. I disposed of a much-needed IV just to spend some quality time with you.”

Drew snorted at that. He had a feeling if anything went wrong, the authority wouldn’t see it that way. Brock and Riley, like the rest of the Underground Unit, realized what they had in Scott. He wasn’t just an operative in one of their divisions. He was a weapon in and of himself.

The man was practically immortal. Then again, so was Manny. He’d been involved in numerous situations where he had barely escaped with his life.

“Step on it,” Drew bit out.

Manny took a hard left then and they raced over a dusty back road. “How do you want to do this?”

“I don’t want to knock lightly, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Manny laid his foot to the pedal. “Me either.”

Drew’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Snatching the device away from his dark slacks, he acknowledged the caller ID. “It’s Crue Candy.”

Manny and Scott swapped a knowing glance before Manny said, “You’d better get that.”

The buzz-buzz resounded.

“Damn it, man. Answer it.” Scott placed his big hands on the bucket seat headrests and jolted forward as Manny kept a wide-open speed, traveling over rough terrain. “If he’s calling with a warning, I’d like to hear about it before we barrel through those gates up ahead.”

Biting back curse words, Drew answered. “Talk to me.”

“I need you to stand down,” Crue said. Given Crue’s timing, the US-West division was already in position at Esparza’s compound.

“Not a chance in hell.”

“We’ve got this,” Crue assured him.

“Then you’ll have my back,” Drew said. “You’re much appreciated.”

“Then show some.”

“Sorry, Candy. I might appreciate you, but I’m not willing to give up what’s important to me so you can meet Donovan’s end goals. You get me?”

“Damn it, listen to me! They have enough ammunition behind those gates to cause the next world war.”

Manny rolled his eyes.

“Then I’ll assume they know how to use what they have. Thanks for the warning.” He disconnected the call.

“You heard the man.” Drew looked out the window. “They’re prepared.”

“Wouldn’t have ’em any other way,” Manny said, whipping the van onto an off-road trail, a shortcut they’d discovered when they’d been casing the property.

“So are we,” Scott reminded him.

The phone rang right back. Drew flipped his wrist and snapped, “Daddy Donovan is calling now.”

Scott leaned forward. “You’d definitely better grab that.”

“Why?” Manny asked, glancing over his shoulder. “I’d rather rebel than please the parents. Wouldn’t you?”

They all enjoyed a good laugh as they sped toward the compound. Donovan would be mad as hell, but this was one operation he wasn’t controlling.

Drew’s woman was behind Esparza’s gates. And Drew understood what Esparza was capable of and what extreme measures he’d take to make an impression upon a Remington.

The war was on.


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Cowboy Boots and Inexpressible Longing is on tour!


 Cowboy Boots and Inexpressible Longing (MF)

June 2nd and 3rd


Author Cassandra Carr

Visit Cassandra’s blog then head over to Bookstrand and check out Cassandra’s latest books!

Author Sam Cheever

Visit Sam’s blog then head over to Ellora’s Cave and check out Sam’s latest books!

Author Cerise Deland

Visit Cerise’s blog then head over to Ellora’s Cave and check out Cerise’s latest books!

Honey Bunny Promos

Visit Honey Bunny Promos and find out what books Judie Stewart recommends!

Author Kay Jaybee

Visit Kay’s blog then head over to Amazon to check out Kay’s latest books!

Author Lori King

Visit Lori’s blog then head over to Bookstrand to check out Lori’s latest books!

Author Adriana Kraft

Visit Adriana’s blog then head over to Amazon to check out Adriana’s latest books!

Author Nicole Morgan

Visit Nicole’s blog then head over to Bookstrand to check out Nicole’s latest books!

Author Cindy Spencer Pape

Visit Cindy’s blog then head over to Carina Press and check out her latest books!

Author Tabitha Shay

Visit Tabitha’s blog then head over to Secret Cravings Publishing to check out Tabitha’s latest books!

Author Amber Skyze

Visit Amber’s blog then head over to Ellora’s Cave to check out Amber’s latest books!

Author Gale Stanley

Visit Gale’s blog then head over to Bookstrand and check out her latest books!

Author J Annas Walker

Visit J Annas’ blog then head over to Bookstrand to check out J Annas’ latest books!



Cover Reveals!


Special thank you to Rachel at Charisma Tours for scheduling cover reveals



Special thank you to Lucy Felthouse for scheduling cover reveals




 Random Gifts Delivered Via Email and Snail Mail!!!

Find out more: https://www.facebook.com/NatalieAcresAuthor


Cowboy Boots and Inexpressible Longing is available today!





Read Full Post »

Cowboy Boots and Inexpressible Longing is on tour!

 Cowboy Boots and Inexpressible Longing (MF)

 June 2nd and 3rd


Author Cassandra Carr

Visit Cassandra’s blog then head over to Bookstrand and check out Cassandra’s latest books!

Author Sam Cheever

Visit Sam’s blog then head over to Ellora’s Cave and check out Sam’s latest books!

Author Cerise Deland

Visit Cerise’s blog then head over to Ellora’s Cave and check out Cerise’s latest books!

Honey Bunny Promos

Visit Honey Bunny Promos and find out what books Judie Stewart recommends!

Author Kay Jaybee

Visit Kay’s blog then head over to Amazon to check out Kay’s latest books!

Author Lori King

Visit Lori’s blog then head over to Bookstrand to check out Lori’s latest books!

Author Adriana Kraft

Visit Adriana’s blog then head over to Amazon to check out Adriana’s latest books!

Author Nicole Morgan

Visit Nicole’s blog then head over to Bookstrand to check out Nicole’s latest books!

Author Cindy Spencer Pape

Visit Cindy’s blog then head over to Carina Press and check out her latest books!

Author Tabitha Shay

Visit Tabitha’s blog then head over to Secret Cravings Publishing to check out Tabitha’s latest books!

Author Amber Skyze

Visit Amber’s blog then head over to Ellora’s Cave to check out Amber’s latest books!

Author Gale Stanley

Visit Gale’s blog then head over to Bookstrand and check out her latest books!

Author J Annas Walker

Visit J Annas’ blog then head over to Bookstrand to check out J Annas’ latest books!


 Cover Reveals! 

Special thank you to Rachel at Charisma Tours for scheduling cover reveals



Special thank you to Lucy Felthouse for scheduling cover reveals



  Random Gifts Delivered Via Email and Snail Mail!!!

Find out more: https://www.facebook.com/NatalieAcresAuthor

Cowboy Boots and Inexpressible Longing is available today!





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