Teaser Tuesday: Only for the Weekend
This Teaser Tuesday is a brand-new release: ONLY FOR THE WEEKEND is hot off the presses for only 99 cents. Find out how Vincent and Jane start their weekend together, and then grab your copy to read the rest of this short, sexy story!
This Teaser Tuesday is a brand-new release: ONLY FOR THE WEEKEND is hot off the presses for only 99 cents. Find out how Vincent and Jane start their weekend together, and then grab your copy to read the rest of this short, sexy story!
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The quiet snick of the door opening quickened his heartbeat. He knew what Jane saw as she walked in—a dark, still room, a single recessed light illuminating the space before a large seating area. Shadowed corners. Emptiness. She knew she was meeting him here, but not that he was already waiting in the room.
He took the time to look her over, holding back the breath that threatened to escape too loudly as he did so. She was as lovely as he remembered. Shoulder-length blonde hair curled around her head, making his fingers twitch with the need to twine the soft strands around them. Her eyes were dark in the dim light, a contrast to those flirty curls and a reflection of the seriousness of her soul. Full pink lips trembled with nerves, as did the hands currently clasped tightly together in front of her. Anticipation swelled in his chest. He would soothe those nerves, but not yet; sometimes a little fear could go a long way with a sub.
Lovely wasn’t the word to describe her body. Sexy, definitely. Earth-shattering. His heart beat triple time in his throat as his gaze moved over her. A tight-fitting white button-down, top buttons open to reveal the upper swell of her round breasts. A short, curves-skimming black skirt. As she turned to close the door behind her, he glimpsed a thin band of lace through a small slit up the back. Only the briefest hint, but blood pooled in his groin immediately at the sight of her stockings, the old-fashioned kind that attached to garters and a garter belt. So like Jane—shy and yet intensely provocative, all at once. He couldn’t fucking wait to see those pale thighs framed by the sexiest garment a woman could ever put on her body.
With a stern reminder to his anatomy that sex wasn’t in the cards, at least not for him—a reminder his body laughed at—he shifted his weight, bringing him barely into the edge of the light. “Jane.”
He kept his voice low, but still she startled. The trembling in her hands increased. She tugged her full bottom lip between her teeth in a way that made him want to bite as well, but not yet. He waited, instead, forcing control so that she could look her fill.
Her gaze took in his half mask first, a piece of soft black fabric covering the top half of his face and head, leaving everything but his eyes and jaw and ears a mystery. Even most of his hair was covered, and what could be seen at the back of his head hopefully didn’t shine too brilliantly red in the shadowed room. She measured the width of his shoulders, his height. Her nostrils flared as if trying to breathe him in, to determine who he was, whether or not she was safe, by scent alone.
She didn’t speak. Good.
“Come in,” he told her.
A hesitant “Yes, Sir” accompanied her steps farther into the light. The yellow glow lit a fire in her hair as she tucked her chin, dropping her gaze to the vicinity of his boots. The Dom in him purred its approval.
“Kneel for me, Jane.”
There was no hesitation this time. With a feminine grace rare in a first-time sub, she sank to her knees. Head still bowed, knees parted just enough to show off the lace atop her stockings, hands at the small of her back.
His gut clenched. She’d been practicing. For him.
Logically he knew it hadn’t been for him personally. She didn’t know the masked Dom before her was the man she’d propositioned as a teenager. She only knew the mask hid a Dom. But telling himself that didn’t stop the flare of possession and satisfaction burning its way through his chest.
Ignoring the dangerous emotions inside him, he walked forward, his steps heavy, deliberate. No leather for him except the boots. He’d chosen black button-fly jeans and a black silk shirt. The fabric cupped him, slid along his skin as he moved, and he imagined it was Jane’s hands on him, molding along his cock, brushing his pierced nipples. He barely held back a groan as he circled Jane’s kneeling body.
She turned her head the slightest amount, probably trying to keep him in sight. He laid a single finger along her jawline. “Eyes down.”
Jane shivered as she obeyed. Oh yes, definitely submissive.
He circled her again, this time allowing his finger to trace her lips, her cheekbone, the delicate curve of her ear. As he moved behind her, he delved into her curls, indulging himself in their soft texture before fisting the thick mass and tugging her head back. Jane kept her eyes lowered, but she couldn’t keep her breath from catching, and as he looked down her body, he could see the tight tips of her breasts forced against the fabric of her shirt.
“You’ve read and signed the contract.” A statement. He knew she had; he’d read every line. But he wanted the acknowledgment between them—and to hear her voice.
A moment’s quiet, then, “Yes, Sir.”
That word on her lips… He bent over her, letting her feel his size, his heat, his power. “And you are certain you wish to proceed, sub?”
No pause. “Yes, Sir. I wish to proceed.”
He stood, trailing his fingers through her hair, showing his pleasure at her response. “And what is your safe word?”
Her voice quivered as she responded. “Weekend, Sir.”
Weekend. The word hit him like a two-by-four to the head. A reference to his band, Weekend Washout, or a reminder that she was only his for the weekend?
She’s not yours, dickhead. You’re an experiment, nothing more.
But would he be if she knew who he was?
If she knew who you were, you’d be out on your ass.
He couldn’t forget that. Jane must never find out the identity of her first Dom. And he… Well, he could never forget her. At least he would have this.
He moved away, taking a position between Jane and the light. His shadow covered her. “‘Weekend’ it is. If you feel overwhelmed, need to pause or talk or just catch your breath, you will use ‘yellow.’ Is that clear?”
“Yes, Sir.”
That breathy voice, ripe with arousal and fear, threw gasoline on the fire of his lust, threatening to burn out of control. He needed to shut that part of himself down, needed to focus completely on his sub. But just like his body had warned him earlier, he couldn’t. All he could give her was every piece of him—lust, dominance…everything.
“Then stand.”
Without a word Jane rocked back onto her heels and came to her feet. Regret ached in his shaft as the hem of her skirt once more covered the delicate bands of lace circling her thighs, but he was about to see so much more.
“Undress for me, sub.”
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ONLY FOR THE WEEKEND is available at major e-retailers:
And keep an eye out for If Only Book 2, ONLY FOR THE NIGHT, coming April 2016.
Only for the Weekend UPDATE!
We have a cover -- and it's gorgeous! What do you think?
I've also set up preorders. You can go ahead and order your copy of Only for the Weekend on Amazon right now for 99 cents. I'll have the book up on other retailers within the next couple of weeks, and will add the links to the Bookshelf page as they go live. The links will also be in my monthly newsletter.
So when will your copy arrive on your e-reader? DECEMBER 4TH! As I announced in my newsletter, I've had some health issues this summer that pushed my schedule off, and I wanted V. and Jane's story to come out a little closer to the other book in this mini-series, Hank and Sage's story (out the first week of April, 2016). Since the books go together, I figured a little delay now was better than a bigger delay between them. But this novella is definitely hot enough to wait for! I think you'll love Vincent and Jane--their chemistry is explosive. I had to take a few breathers between scenes, let me tell ya.
Oh, you want to see? Hmm...Okay, I guess I can share. ;) How about an excerpt?
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Straightening her shoulders, his sister met his gaze. "I got a call from Jane last week."
Vincent's gut tightened. "Jane?"
"Yes, Jane," she said impatiently. "My best friend, Jane? You are so hopeless."
"I hope not, considering you brought me here to do you a favor. I know which Jane you're talking about." As if he could ever forget. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his eyes, hoping to hide exactly how much he remembered from his too-observant sis. "Get on with it."
"She's been...unhappy with her current relationship for a while. Actually, she hasn't been happy with her last couple of boyfriends, but I didn't really understand why until she called to tell me she and Lane had broken up." Kennedy's mouth twisted into something not quite a smile, not quite a frown. "We got to talking about what, specifically, was the problem--"
V. put his hand up to ward off the rest. Jane's relationships were the last thing he wanted to discuss. The history between him and Jane--history his sister knew absolutely nothing about, he was pretty sure--might be water under the bridge, but that didn't mean he wanted to think about her with anyone else.
Kennedy wouldn't be denied, though. "No, Vinny, this is important. See, we were talking, and I started to realize that some of their...compatibility issues are because Jane is...uh...submissive."
Fuck. Now he was starting to get the picture. His fingers started a steady beat on his thigh as he struggled to bring his racing thoughts under control. "And you want me to talk to her about BDSM."
There weren't many secrets between him and his sister. When she'd read 50 Shades and started questioning things, he'd openly discussed his natural need to dominate and what that might look like in a hypothetical relationship. Though ultimately not drawn to the D/s dynamic herself, Kennedy was well-educated enough to recognize the tendency in her best friend.
"Not exactly."
"Then what exactly?" He couldn't keep a bit of bite out of his words.
Kennedy took a deep breath as if steeling herself against something. Not a good sign. His gut tightened again.
"Jane actually asked about hiring an...escort that could dominate her." V. thought the top of his head might just fly off. "She didn't. You didn't," he growled.
"No, idiot," she insisted, her words as loud as his were low, "I didn't." She stared into his eyes, but she wasn't really seeing him, he could tell. "She wants to learn but doesn't know anyone in the lifestyle. She didn't know what to look for if she went to a club, and didn't feel safe with a stranger."
V. wasn't quite ready to give an inch. The thought of Jane with a stranger--okay, with anyone, but especially a stranger--made him feel like his blood was boiling in his veins. "She wouldn't know an escort either."
"But I would." Kennedy shrugged. "That was it. She thought, this being Vegas, that I might've met someone in the lifestyle that she could trust. A personal recommendation, so to speak."
"You told her no, obviously."
This time her stare connected, but she didn't speak. She just waited, her determination ticking like a clock between them, until the truth finally smacked him between the eyes.
"You're hiring me?"
"She's my best friend, Vinny. I'm not gonna hand her over to have sex with just anybody!"
"And you're not handing her over to have sex with me either." Frustration drove him to his feet to pace across the room until the floor-to-ceiling windows stopped him. If only Kennedy knew. Jane would probably prefer to castrate him, even now, ten years later. She certainly wouldn't want to be vulnerable to him, not the way a sub was vulnerable with their Dom. Even considering it was an enormous mistake. He scrambled for anything that might deter her.
"Jane's just a kid." Ten years his junior, like Kennedy was.
"She's not a kid. She's my age, and I have sex all the time."
He shot his sister a withering look. "Now stop that shit right now."
Kennedy's eyebrow cocked up. "The sex?"
"Telling me about it." He shuddered. "It may or may not happen, but I do not need to know."
Kennedy's smirk was salt in the wound. "My brother the perv is freaked out by his baby sister's vanilla sex life."
"Yes. Very."
It took a moment, but eventually he was able to join a smirk with Kennedy's laughter. His sister's amusement eased some of the tension stringing his body tight, enough that he could return to the couch. Kennedy patted his leg when he sat beside her.
"She's always had a bit of a crush on you, ya know."
He kept his sigh inside. Damn right, he knew. What Kennedy and especially Jane didn't know was that the feeling had always been mutual. Which spelled certain disaster if he gave in to what his sister wanted.
He didn't say it aloud; instead he deflected. "Jane isn't a one-night-stand kind of girl." He knew that much--all too well.
"She's not looking for forever, just a quickie intro to BDSM." She tilted her head, seeming to consider her words. An impish grin tugged at her lips. "Well, not a quickie, really, but you get the idea."
His frown probably made him seem like a stuffy old geezer, but what the hell... "Yeah, I get it." All too well. Perversely, the assumption that he was available to be used for the night bothered him. "Thanks, Sis. I'm good enough to stud out but not good enough for more than one night?"
He mentally kicked his own ass. Why was he even arguing about this? He didn't want more than one night. He'd always said so, a fact Kennedy quickly reminded him of.
"'Commitment takes time,'" she quoted.
He'd said those three words so many times, and never regretted them. His band had been all the commitment he had room for besides Kennedy. It had always been true, but now Weekend Washout was on hiatus for who knew how long--at least until Chad came back from gallivanting around Europe with his latest lover. V. and Hank were exploring a new solo project, true, but even then, he had way too much time on his hands.
But not time for a commitment, V. You're not commitment material. If you were, you'd have taken Jane up on her offer ten years ago, whether she was sixteen or not.
No... Okay, maybe. He really didn't know. He'd like to think he was a better man than to take advantage of a sixteen-year-old girl's infatuation, but this was Jane they were talking about. And whether it was ten years ago or now, the thought of having her for far longer than a single night reverberated in his chest with more force than the echo of his bass drum.
"Vinny." Kennedy closed her eyes, probably praying for patience. When she opened them again, determination shone through. "Jane is a sweet person who's just trying to find her way through this." She sat forward. "You're my brother. I trust you, and most of all, I trust you with her. Please, just... Please help her."
V. thought about her words for a long moment, thought about his first faltering forays into a nonvanilla sex life, how much easier it would've been if he'd had a guiding hand. He considered the pleading in Kennedy's eyes, and the fact that she might hand him his balls if he said no. And finally, he let himself picture Jane, the pretty sixteen-year-old he'd rejected and the quietly beautiful woman he'd seen in Kennedy's frequent pictures. Could he really let Jane make herself vulnerable that way with anyone else? Could he turn his back knowing she wouldn't be safe? Because she would continue to explore; that much he knew. He wouldn't have been able to stop his own search, safety or not. Jane needed to find her answers, but no way in hell could he allow her to do it alone.
His sigh was pure capitulation. Kennedy heard it and smiled.
"All right," he told her, "I'll do it--but on one condition." He thought about that a moment. "Two, actually."
Kennedy's triumph dimmed a bit. "Okay."
"Anonymity. I don't want her knowing who I am. No, Kenn," he said firmly before she could interrupt. "This could affect your friendship later. She could feel awkward, avoiding you if she thinks I'll be there." He normally had no issue with having sex with a woman he'd just met, if they both knew the score, but not Kennedy's best friend. It wasn't the only reason for the caveat, but it was a good one. The other... Well, Jane would never knowingly let him near her, much less trust him if she knew he was the one with her, not after what had happened between them. "Anonymity is a must."
Emotion warred in Kennedy's eyes, but she finally gave in. "You're the right person for this job," she told him, conviction shining in her eyes. "I guess what she doesn't know won't hurt her. She'd never see any other guy I picked again, right?"
"Right." He said the word she wanted to hear even though he didn't think it was necessarily true. If they hit it off, Jane would probably see another Dom again. Not him, though. She wouldn't see him the first time if she knew.
Kennedy reluctantly nodded. "And?"
He squared his shoulders. "And no sex."
"But--"
V. shook his head. "I can teach her what she needs to know without it. Hell, some subs get more of a release from the submission than they do an orgasm." For him D/s was all about the sex, but that wasn't the case across the board. "Jane is vulnerable, and I won't take advantage of that. I can't."
"So...you won't touch her at all?"
"Oh, I'll touch her." A lot, probably. More than was good for his sanity. "But no full-on sex."
Kennedy agreed, but the uncertainty wrinkling the corners of her eyes said what she wouldn't say aloud. No sex meant Jane's fantasy might go unfulfilled. But he'd rather give her something and leave them both unscarred than indulge himself in something he'd dreamed about for longer than had been appropriate and hurt Jane in the process. If Kennedy knew the whole story, she wouldn't have any doubts. All V. had doubts about was his ability not to go too far. This was Jane, after all. The woman he'd fantasized about dominating since she was sixteen years old.
Heaven help him.
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Don't forget, you can go ahead and reserve your copy of Only for the Weekend now on Amazon. And don't worry--I'll remind you when it's almost here. :)
*
Jane Jacobs is ready for a change. She’s determined that a history of lackluster relationships and even more lackluster pleasure will end this weekend, when she meets the Dom her best friend has set her up with. Exploring dominance and submission with her blind “date” could answer all her questions—and help her forget the one man she wants to master her.
With his band on hiatus, Vincent O’Connell grabs the chance to visit his sister in Vegas, but she wants a favor more than a family reunion. V.’s not above indulging himself with a willing sub, but when he realizes the sub is his sister’s best friend, Jane, all his instincts scream at him to back out—and fast.
V knows Jane; she’s young, pretty, sweet. Definitely sub material—for someone else. But one look at her on her knees and all the reasons to avoid her disappear. She needs a Dom to guide her, and he needs to indulge himself with just a taste. After all, it's only for the weekend.
TWO Days & Counting...
Almost here! Only two more days to wait. In the meantime, want to read the first chapter of TAKE ME? Keep reading to see how it all begins...
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Peyton Harrison’s battered old Ford pulled to a rickety stop at the curb across from the Claywater Elementary School. Buses lumbered through the circular drive out front, discharging students of all sizes. Bigger kids hurried inside, while the younger ones followed a teacher’s direction into the fenced playground. Expending energy and first-day jitters before the day began, probably. If only Peyton’s nerves could so easily be dispersed.
Her heart beat a booming drumroll of desperation in her throat, the sound loud in the stifling silence of her truck. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All she could do was watch the schoolyard across the street with greedy eyes. The child she was searching for was impossible to miss. Right in the center of the play area, a small, sturdy figure hurried up to the monkey bars and began his climb to the top. Even at six years old, he was strong, pulling himself higher and higher, outpacing his classmates until he threw one tan leg over the top rung, clamped down tight, and stopped to assess his playground domain.
King of the hill. Lord of all he surveyed. Just like his father.
The thought added to the blaze of agony threatening to drown her as it mixed with the ravenous ache of yearning clenching her belly. Just a few moments of inattention by the teachers chatting together on the park bench, some wire cutters for snipping the chain-link fence, something to keep him quiet as she ran for the safety of her truck— She pictured every step in her mind, saw how easily it could be carried out, how quickly he could become hers.
Hers.
The word throbbed in her oxygen-deprived brain, right at the forefront, taunting her. So simple, just four little letters. And yet the hundred yards dividing them screamed exactly how impossible that word was. Almost as impossible as it had been for the past six years.
He belongs to someone else; you know that. At least for now.
The ache in her fingers where they clenched the steering wheel centered her, pulling her back into reality, into now. She dragged in a gulp of hot Texas air and forced her focus back on the playground, on the child’s clear blue eyes and their steely determination. His soft, full lips displayed the last tiny shreds of remaining toddlerhood. The clothes he’d worn for the first day of school—a short-sleeved, white button-down shirt that looked too adult for such a young child, tan cargo shorts with every pocket neatly fastened, pristine white ankle socks and sneakers—now bore streaks of red clay and wrinkles, the starched collar of the shirt wilting under the onslaught of August heat and childish perspiration. What she wouldn’t give to bury her nose in the sweaty curve of his neck and inhale the wild, little-boy scent of him.
So serious. Even at such a young age, he was deep-down-to-the-bone serious. More little man than little boy. She could see it in his eyes.
Then he smiled.
It hit her like a punch to the gut, that smile. His daddy’s smile. The thought burned like tears behind her eyes, but she couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop eating up every discernible detail she possibly could. His solemn face lit up with that smile, his beautiful eyes bright under the shaggy fringe of thick blondish-red hair across his forehead. That hair was ruffled by deep furrows, as if he ran his fingers through it frequently. The white of his baby teeth was a stark contrast to the depth of his tan, possibly from playing outside all summer. The mottling of bruises on his knees and down his shins attested to that. At least she hoped that’s where they came from. Her heart ached to know for sure. She ran through scenario after scenario in a feverish search for the one that would enable her to bring him home, to finally have him in her arms agai—
Knock, knock, knock.
The drumroll in her chest became crashing thunder. A curse made it to her lips and froze there, held back by the wall of chest that blocked her sight of the playground. The material stretching across that wide expanse of solid muscle was dark blue, crisp and clean, with the title “Claywater Police Department” clearly emblazoned on the patch to one side.
A cop, right outside her window. Tall and broad and intimidating. Her breath stuttered across suddenly dry lips.
“Ma’am?” The cop rapped the back of his knuckles against the glass again. “Roll down your window please.”
The man’s voice tickled something in the back of her fear-frozen mind, something that drew her gaze against her will. Up the precisely buttoned shirtfront. Past the small triangle of skin at his collar, the neatly trimmed red-gold stubble. Lips. Nose. Eyes.
Blue eyes. Familiar blue eyes.
Peyton stared, certain she was caught up in some crazy nightmare. The devil taunting her. Because she knew those eyes intimately. Knew this man—except he wasn’t a cop. Or at least, he hadn’t been when she knew him.
“Ma’am?”
That deep, commanding tone again. It washed over her like molasses, trapping her in memories buried for so long. With hands shaking and tongue tied, Peyton slowly rolled down the window.
“Gabe?” she choked out. Please don’t let this be happening. Despite the all too real rush of air brushing her face, she prayed someone, somewhere, would hear her prayer and make it true.
One of Gabe’s hands rested casually against the side of her truck. A relaxed pose belied by his laser-sharp gaze and the fingers toying with the catch on his holster. She forced her eyes away from the gun and back to his. A flinch shook her as their eyes met.
“License and registration, please, ma’am.”
“Gabriel?” It was all she could get out. She glanced at the name tag, prominently displayed on the left side of his solid chest. Williams. “God, I can’t believe it’s you.” She didn’t want to believe it, not now, when secrecy was paramount. When her heart was already torn to pieces.
He shouldn’t look the same, not after all these years. But he did. He shouldn’t be here in Claywater, but he was. Standing outside her window. His big body was tense, ready for anything—he looked every inch the wolf he was. Cornflower-blue irises gleamed with impatience in his ruggedly handsome face. Too handsome, she’d always said. And empty. Not a hint of recognition.
Gabe didn’t shift, didn’t back down, just narrowed his eyes. “Ma’am, your license and registration. Now.”
The comply-or-face-the-consequences tone got through when nothing else could. She’d never forget that tone, no matter how many years it had been—every cop and prison guard used it daily. Her hand was halfway to the glove box before she even realized it. Registration in hand, she retrieved her license from her purse, nerves jittering in her stomach like a thousand butterflies. In a surreal haze she passed her paperwork through the window. The breath in her lungs stuttered as she watched his strong, calloused hand come closer, closer—the hand that had introduced her to the joys of sexual pleasure, the fingers that had ensured her readiness before he took her virginity. She waited for a touch she’d both longed for and cursed for seven excruciating years. And when that touch came, when his fingers brushed the backs of hers as he grasped the papers and pulled them away, she looked into his eyes once more, searching, fearing.
And saw absolutely nothing. Not recognition. Not curiosity. Disdain. Nothing. “And you are?” he asked.
She stared, certain he had to be kidding. “Peyton.” He waited. “Harrison?”
It came out a question, as if she didn’t know her own name. He didn’t, apparently. “Is there a reason you stopped here, Ms. Harrison?”
Relief coursed through her confusion. A question she was actually prepared for. “I’m lost.”
And she dared anyone to prove otherwise. A glance over her shoulder would plainly show a map of Claywater and a notebook detailing properties in the area. She was, after all, looking for a site for her new restaurant. Had already chosen one, in fact, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Oh? New in town?”
His tone wasn’t interested, and his gaze didn’t drop to her license, the one that had the same date as her move into her bland new apartment over by the highway. She didn’t trust herself to answer.
Her silence drew only one reaction: “How long?”
“Not long.”
He continued to watch her, unsmiling. His eyes hid everything he felt—or didn’t. And then he turned without a word and walked back to his patrol car, her license and registration in hand.
Even the walk was the same. A harsh laugh escaped as she watched him in the rearview mirror. The hair was longer, spiky instead of the buzz cut he’d worn when she knew him, the face harder and yes, now that she thought about it, older, but there was no doubt this was Gabe. Her Gabe. The Gabe that had ruined her life. She’d imagined this moment since the tender age of seventeen, imagined what she would do if she ever came face-to-face with him again. She’d never considered that he wouldn’t even remember the moment that changed her forever. But his blank stare had told her the truth. No memories of hot, sweaty nights and drenching desire lurked there. Not even a hint of recognition for someone he’d seen daily for weeks, no matter how long ago.
Just a quick, easy lay, that was her. Forgettable. Replaceable. Guess she didn’t have to wonder anymore. What she did have to wonder was how the hell her first lover and her son had ended up in the same rural Texas town. Had Gabe been involved all along?
But no, he’d definitely recognize her then. If he didn’t remember her, he didn’t know about Micah. And she was determined to keep it that way.
Gabe returned with the same unhurried pace as before, tapping her license against his thigh. When he came to stand outside her door, dark sunglasses hid his eyes. She felt the loss even though she shouldn’t, a fact that sent anger pounding through her heart. She breathed it away. She couldn’t risk slipping up and doing anything that would endanger her plans. For her sake—and her son’s—she had to stay under the radar. Assaulting an officer would make her a big ol’ unignorable blip. No clawing his eyes out, then.
Squaring her shoulders, Peyton ignored the strain of her nerves as she focused on the tap, tap, tap of the edge of her license against hard muscle. She could outwait him. She just wished she could figure out what she was waiting for.
“And where did you say you moved here from?”
She almost—almost—rolled her eyes. The raised eyebrow, she couldn’t stop. “Memphis.”
He nodded, ignoring the brow. “Your apartment is across town, Ms. Harrison. What address are you looking for?”
Do you call all your ex-lover’s by their last name? “I’m not looking for an address; I’m familiarizing myself with the town. If I plan to open a business here—and I do—then it’s in my best interest to get to know the area.” She was proud of how smoothly the words came out, ringing with pleasant—and quite false—emotion. “It’s a beautiful, friendly town.”
Okay, that hadn’t been as neutral as she would like. But once again he didn’t respond to any perceived insult. “Yes, it is. We’re small but growing, and we keep an eye on each other. You can see why we would be uncomfortable with strangers parked outside our schoolyards, correct?”
Fear mixed with her anger, making her nauseous. He’s not reading your mind, Pey. Get over it. She dared a glance at the playground as if just noticing it. “Of course, Officer Williams,” she said, pushing confidence into her voice. She kept her eyes wide open and innocent. A whisper of copper traced across her tongue as she bit down, holding back any further words.
Tap, tap, tap. “What kind of business are you planning?”
“A restaurant.”
“In Claywater?” He said it like she wasn’t too bright.
“Of course. This is a beautiful area—and growing, as you mentioned. It’s perfect.” She forced a smile, small but sweet. “You should come by sometime once I find the right location. Hoolihan’s. Coffee on the house.” She watched closely but didn’t catch even a glimmer of recognition. Coffee had always been on the house for Gabe when he visited Mike and Shelly’s place in Memphis. He’d always bragged about her coffee being the best in the world. Now even the name of the restaurant didn’t jog his memory.
“I’ll do that, ma’am.” He tipped his hat before handing back her license and registration. “You have a good day now.”
Right, I’ll just do that. Swallowing tightly, she dragged the words from an uncooperative throat. “You too.”
Gabe walked back to the patrol car parked behind her, his head swiveling as if watching for threats. It wasn’t until he got in and closed the door that she was able to release her breath and allow oxygen into her anxious brain. Movement across the street drew her eye. The kids on the playground were lining up, heading in to begin their day of learning and growing. She had things to do too, but she couldn’t resist one last, long look at her little boy. The desire to throw caution to the wind, to snatch him up and take him home despite the teachers, other children, and even cops in the vicinity who would surely stop her, almost overwhelmed her. Who knew—maybe Gabe would understand if he realized who that little boy was. Or, considering the way he’d left her in Memphis, alone and pregnant, maybe not. But watching that amazing little face, she knew it was too soon to take him, no matter how much the knowledge broke her already damaged heart. She couldn’t risk rocking the boat without more information. She had no idea if he was in a home with people who loved him, who cared what happened to him—who might come after him if he disappeared. Taking him now could risk him hating her forever.
No. No matter how the need for him clawed at her gut and made each day unbearable, she couldn’t risk scaring him, alienating him. Hurting him.
Because he was her son. Their son. And she’d protect him with her life, even from herself.
* * *
Check in Monday for release day fun and an awesome giveaway. And don't forget the preorder price of $1.99 at:
A nightmare coming to an end…
Peyton Harrison came to Claywater to bring her kidnapped son home. The last thing she expects is to run into Gabe Harrison, the man who abandoned her before her son was born. Her body might want to take up where they left off, but her heart remembers Gabe’s betrayal all too well—and everything she’d risk for momentary pleasure.
A past catching up to them…
Gabe always knew he’d share the love of his life with his twin brother, Sam, except he’d found that love far too young. He did the honorable thing and walked away, but now an adult Peyton is in his hometown and keeping secrets behind her world-weary eyes.
Sam is knee-deep in a drug investigation threatening the town he loves. Peyton’s arrival is a distraction he doesn’t need; still, he can’t deny her pull. He and Gabe have always stood together, but now the one woman they both want may be the one thing that divides them.
A future threatened…
When violence shatters their world, the past and present intertwine in ways none of them expected. Anticipating their enemy’s next move is the only way to keep their son safe, but what about their hearts?
Take Me Teaser
It's almost here, the final installment of the Southern Nights series. Are you ready? I wanted to share just a taste of what my struggling threesome is going through. Here's a snippet of a scene I finished this past week. What do you think?
“All this time—so many years, Peyton—I’ve ached for you.” He groaned into the soft slope of one breast, then took the plump side into his mouth and sucked, raising a bruise. Marking her, just like he had that night so long ago at the hotel. The thought filled her with pain and longing. If only it were true.
“You can’t tell me there’s been no one else, Gabriel.” His full name was bittersweet on her tongue, heavy in her heart. “No one you’ve taken to bed.” A deep breath. “No one you’ve shared with Sam.”
He leaned back. “No, I can’t.”
Peyton sucked in a hurt breath.
Gabe’s stare refused to leave hers, however, his eyes intense, burning down to the truth. He took her hand and placed it on his rock-hard erection. “But I can tell you this, Peyton: not one single night, one woman, one jack-off session went by, where it wasn’t you filling my mind. Ever.”
Want more? Be sure to sign up for my newsletter to get the latest news, including this month's cover reveal (May 15th) and the announcement of Take Me's release date in June. Here's what you have to look forward to:
A nightmare coming to an end…
Peyton Harrison came to Claywater to bring her kidnapped son home. The last thing she expects is to run into Gabe Harrison, the man who abandoned her before her son was born. Her body might want to take up where they left off, but her heart remembers Gabe’s betrayal all too well—and everything she’d risk for momentary pleasure.
A past catching up to them…
Gabe always knew he’d share the love of his life with his twin brother, Sam, except he’d found that love far too young. He did the honorable thing and walked away, but now an adult Peyton is in his hometown and keeping secrets behind her world-weary eyes.
Sam is knee-deep in a drug investigation threatening the town he loves. Peyton’s arrival is a distraction he doesn’t need; still, he can’t deny her pull. He and Gabe have always stood together, but now the one woman they both want may be the one thing that divides them.
A future threatened…
When violence shatters their world, the past and present intertwine in ways none of them expected. Anticipating their enemy’s next move is the only way to keep their son safe, but what about their hearts?
New Release News: Just a Little More!
I can't tell you how excited I am to see Just a Little More finally come to fruition. Though it's a novella, I struggled mightily with getting Brad and Angel's book just right, giving them the story they deserved. I wasn't disappointed by the end result, and I hope you won't be either. You'll be able to find out on JULY 1ST! That's right! In three weeks and one day, Just a Little More will be available. Squeeee!
Hopefully you'll think I captured Thrice's flirty bartender as well as Angel captures him. ;) Not to mention, the book is set in a freak snowstorm, so you'll get a cool little spot in the height of summer heat.
I haven't shared a lot about this book because it was on a fairly short timeline from submission to release. In fact, I didn't even know if I'd have the cover in time to reveal it today -- and I didn't. Yes, I'm pouting. I promise you will see it as soon as I get to...okay, a few minutes later, but you get the idea. Those of you who've subscribed to my newsletter have read the blurb and a teeny excerpt, but let me share those with the rest of the world. Ready?
Six weeks ago Angel had it all—a brand-new master’s degree, an apartment with her best friend, Brad, and the chance to take their friendship to a whole hot new level. But on the night of their first kiss, a would-be rapist ripped her bright future apart. Stuck in a never-ending cycle of fear and depression, Angel is determined to find herself again, even if it means putting herself at risk.
Brad has loved Angel since he saved her from a playground bully in the fifth grade. But just as it seemed Angel’s eyes were opening to the true feelings between them, it all fell apart. When Angel disappears on the night of a freak snowstorm, Brad is determined to find her. And when he does, he won't let her hide any longer. It's time to wake her up—to a life without fear, and to a love that can heal the deepest wounds.
And now, for how it all started...
He was eighteen when it happened. No warning at all.
One minute Brad Donovan was staring down at his best friend, Angel, as she coughed up water from Lake Lanier. She bobbed on the surface, swiping at the droplets that clung to her eyes, and then she was laughing. That same laugh he’d heard a million times since elementary school, a laugh full of joy, full of life. All the noise around them, their friends shouting and girls squealing at the shock of cold water, the splashes, the creaking of the dock and rumbling of rock on the radio, it all faded as that one sound, Angel’s laughter, pierced his heart like an arrow.
And changed everything with the realization that he loved her.
It wasn’t best-friend love. He’d loved her that way since the first day of fifth grade. And it wasn’t sister love. They’d grown up together, become the family neither of them really had, but this wasn’t about family either. Definitely not just being horny, though he’d had to hide a hard-on more times than he could count with Angel running around in that skimpy bikini.
No, this was something new, something a hundred times stronger. This was the real thing, real love. The kind a man had for a woman; the kind he had for Angel. The kind a teenage boy wouldn’t recognize, right? But he knew, without a doubt, that she was the one, with that single glance down at her laughing face.
And it scared the shit out of him.
Be sure to check my Facebook page on July 1st for the fastest access to links for Just a Little More. And look for Ian's story, Secrets To Hide Book 4, next spring.
Want more Secrets To Hide goodness? Be sure to read books one and two, Cailin and Alex's story in Dirty Little Secret, and Harley and Damien's story in Naughty Little Christmas.
And don't forget, coming this fall, the all-new Southern Nights trilogy.
*Photo courtesy of JulianColton2.
Summer for Love Blog Hop: Adult Game Night
UPDATE: Our winner for the $15 gift card is Elizabeth Hyatt! Thank you all for participating. Be sure and check back the week of July 4th for another great giveaway!
Welcome to the Summer for Love Blog Hop! I’m Ella Sheridan, your host(ess) for this page of your blog hop experience. I hope you enjoy!
Entry information for the contest is at the bottom of this post. Be sure you leave a name AND AN EMAIL ADDRESS in your comment to be entered in the drawing. Don't forget!
~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~
Summer—it’s the time of no schedule, sleeping in, lazy days by the pool. It’s also the days of visits to the grandparents, midweek sleepovers, and the all-time parent favorite: SUMMER CAMP. So how can we take the most advantage of child-free summer nights? How about a trip down nostalgia lane? It's time for some of those games we played as kids and teens to make a second appearance -- for adult game nights. ;)
Twister
Who didn’t wish they could play Twister with the object of their blushingly adolescent desire? Now you can! Consider starting the game sans clothes, or taking off a piece every time you touch a color you’ve never landed on before (four colors = four pieces of clothing each). Another variation? Rub massage oil into each other’s skin before beginning the game.
Hide and Seek
Remember the buzz of anticipation in your belly as you waited in some hidden corner for whoever was “It” to find you? How about trying this game in the dark? You can also vary the game by playing multiple rounds, with the loser taking off a piece of clothing every time they’re found! (And if you haven’t read Cherise Sinclair’s Masters of the Shadowlands series, you should—the Masters have a particularly devious form of Hide and Seek they play in the Capture Gardens. You’re welcome!)
Simon Says
Set a timer. For the length of the time limit, “Simon” is allowed to tell his/her partner what to do—and I bet you can think of some pretty yummy commands, can't you? How about telling your partner to be silent…and then torturing them into making noise. When the timer goes off, “Simon” has to take his turn getting told what to do. Warning: This game can make foreplay go on forever, but the payoff is worth it!
Blind Man’s Bluff
Take off your clothes. Put on a blindfold. Let your partner surprise you. Enough said!
Truth or Dare
On small slips of paper, write down twenty questions that would reveal your partner's sexual fantasies. Then write down twenty activities you want to try with your partner in bed. Have your partner do the same. Put the questions in one bowl, the activities in another. Spend the evening in a candlelit room, wine at the ready, going through the bowls—and getting to know each other even better than you already do. ;)
Spin the Bottle
Here's a fun variation of this classic teen party game for two: On a piece of posterboard, draw a large circle and divide it into “slices.” Label each slice with an activity (touch, kiss, tickle, rub, etc.) and a body part (the two don’t have to go together). Place the posterboard in the middle of a room, empty a wine bottle (in whatever way you see fit), and place it in the middle. Take turns spinning. Whatever “slice” the head of the bottle points to, that’s the activity you must do. Whatever “slice” the middle of the bottle’s base points to, that’s the body part on which you do the activity. Creative, huh?
So what do you think? It gives a whole new meaning to “Everything old is new again,” doesn’t it?
In my first release, Dirty Little Secret, Cailin and Alex play their own version of Hide and Seek while on a ghost tour in downtown Nashville. Wanna see?
~ ~ ~ ~ Excerpt ~ ~ ~ ~
The group spread out to explore the area around the State Capitol Building, many heading toward the lighted side near President James K. Polk’s tomb. Alex stepped in that direction, but Cailin inhaled a deep breath, took a chance, and tugged him in the other. Barely visible, a hedge of evergreens lined the front area, providing a small alley of privacy she hoped to take advantage of.
“Where are we—”
Cailin used a fingertip to stop Alex’s question. Instead she drew him behind the evergreens, standing at least ten feet tall, backed him into the fragrant wall, and sank hastily to her knees.
“Cailin?”
Fingers trembling at the audacity of what she was about to do—and at the overwhelming desire to do it—Cailin reached up and placed both hands on Alex’s crotch. He choked even as his length hardened beneath her touch. The power she seemed to hold over his body awed her. Right now she’d use it to her advantage, for his pleasure.
Knowing seconds counted, she opened the button of his jeans by shoving her hands under his untucked button-down and giving a single flick to the top button. She didn’t even bother to lower the zipper all the way, just lowered it enough to maneuver the head of his shaft through the gap. His breathing bellowed in her ears, his pulse jumped between her fingers, and her mouth watered as she opened enough to take him in.
Fast. Frantic. She poured everything she had into pleasuring him, needing only the taste of his release on her tongue to satisfy her. She couldn’t tell if the sounds Alex was emitting were laughter or sobs. Either way, minutes later he was exploding in her mouth, his hands clutching her hair as he strained to empty every last drop into the moist cavern surrounding him. His salty release hit her tongue, and molten pleasure blinded her for long moments. Only Alex’s pulling back and the slide of his cock from her mouth returned her to the present.
“God, Cailin,” Alex said, strangled laughter making his words choppy, “what was that about?”
Standing, she helped him straighten his clothes until he was as presentable as they could make him in the almost nonexistent light. “It’s about surprising you,” she replied.
“I’d surprise you too, but I don’t think we have time for me to reciprocate.”
“Don’t have to. This tour was gift enough. Thank you,” she whispered as the sound of the others approaching filtered through the trees.
“You’re welcome, and yes, I do. And I will.” A hard, thorough kiss, then, “Just you wait.”
~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~
If you enjoyed Cailin and Alex’s “game,” you can read the rest of their story in Dirty Little Secret. The second book in the Secrets To Hide series, Naughty Little Christmas, is also available. And coming July 1st — Just a Little More, book three!
Six weeks ago Angel had it all—a brand-new master’s degree, an apartment with her best friend, Brad, and the chance to take their friendship to a whole hot new level. But on the night of their first kiss, a would-be rapist ripped her bright future apart. Stuck in a never-ending cycle of fear and depression, Angel is determined to find herself again, even if it means putting herself at risk.
Brad has loved Angel since he saved her from a playground bully in the fifth grade. But just as it seemed Angel’s eyes were opening to the true feelings between them, it all fell apart. When Angel disappears on the night of a freak snowstorm, Brad is determined to find her. And when he does, he won't let her hide any longer. It's time to wake her up—to a life without fear, and to a love that can heal the deepest wounds.
~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~
And now, a giveaway from The Romance Troupe!!
Grand Prizes: SIX $50 Amazon or B&N Gift Cards
Comment on this blog with your name and email to be entered into the Grand Prize drawing from TRR. Comments without a name and email will not be counted. Commenting on each and every stop will increase your chances of winning. Winners for the SIX Grand Prizes will be drawn and announced on THE ROMANCE TROUPE blog by June 10th.
Find a list of all stops here!
And there's more. Yes, MORE!
One lucky commenter will win a $15 gift card from Amazon or Barnes & Noble for some book shopping! Want more than one entry? There are two more easy ways to be entered for the prize:
1. Sign up for my monthly newsletter and get a second chance at the prize!
2. Friend me on Facebook for a third chance at the prize. Be sure to message me with your e-mail address so I can contact you if you win.
The winner of the Amazon/B&N gift card will be notified by Tuesday, June 10th, 2014. And keep an eye out for those big TRT winners! You can watch for that at the TRT site. I hope you enjoy some fun and adult games this summer!
~ Ella
May's My Sexy Saturday: Doing Sexy
This week's My Sexy Saturday is all about "Doing Sexy" -- those characters who, for whatever reason, don't truly see how sexy they are. But those around them see it and can't help but respond to it! In Dirty Little Secret, heroine Cailin is fresh off a nasty divorce from a husband who rarely even touched her, much less wanted sex. Her confidence is at an all-time low, until the night she decides to try out the new nightclub in downtown Atlanta, Thrice. She's managed to get herself in line outside the club, but still her doubts are there...
* * *
Anonymity wasn’t always a good thing. It tempted people to act in ways they normally wouldn’t, to indulge in fantasies they’d normally never consider if someone they knew was around to see—and condemn—them. Cailin had lain awake last night, staring at the darkened ceiling, alone and hungry. And not for food. Two years was a long time to go without touch, much less sex—especially when she’d spent half that time married—and she found her craving was getting harder and harder to ignore. Taking care of it herself just didn’t feel the same. She wanted human interaction, a man’s hands on her body. And this morning, she’d awakened with an idea of how to get it.
Thus the trip to Crazyville, um, Thrice.
It was risky, at least for her. Definitely unhinged. She’d been a virgin on her wedding night. She didn’t do casual sex. Or she hadn’t, but what other choice did she have? And it just so happened she had a really long, empty weekend ahead of her and a new nightclub opening not twenty minutes from her home. Best of all, nobody knew her. Nobody would be watching her “moral slipup,” as her mother would’ve called it. And nobody would talk. She could go, have a drink, maybe meet someone. Maybe go home with him. That’s what normal people did, right? At least, people who didn’t marry right out of school and who’d never in their life set foot in a bar.
What a backwoods idiot she was. She just prayed, after the amount of money she’d blown on her outfit, that the backwoods part of her was well hidden—and that this little foray into mental illness was somehow successful.
"You do realize you’re asking God for a hookup, Cailin,” she told herself, ignoring the questioning look of a cute young thing with a ring in his nose passing on his way to the end of the line. “That just proves how crazy you really are."
The cutie did a quick twist to stare at Cailin as he went by. His gaze zeroed in on what she knew was a mostly bare back and clearly outlined butt. Her garters played peekaboo through the cutouts, extending just below her hemline to catch sheer thigh-high stockings, but the woman at the store had assured her it was utterly sexy. Cailin didn’t know about that—naughty might be a better word, but when had she ever been naughty? It was definitely past time to give herself a break from the good-girl routine. Tonight she could be anyone she wanted to be—and the woman she wanted to be was a sexy siren, ready to entice. Tilting a look over her shoulder, she gave the guy a smile, ignoring the jittery feeling in her stomach. Maybe she’d see him inside.
A group of women in line ahead of her giggled when the man winked back at her. They struck up a conversation about her dress, and by the time she greeted the broad-shouldered bouncer a half hour later, it felt as natural as buying a ticket to a movie. The way he eyed her legs helped her relax even more. She couldn’t swear, but she was pretty sure her reaction to that look was something like preening.
* * *
Cailin might not feel sexy, but she certainly catches some eyes, including her new boss's, which leads to all kinds of trouble. Here's how:
Cailin Gray transferred to the new Atlanta branch of her company to work for the senior vice president, Alex Brannigan. But before her job begins, she allows the anonymity of the big city to lure her into a night of dancing–and the arms of a mystery lover hotter than anything this country girl could imagine. When she wakes alone, his absence hurts more than she thought it would, but not nearly as much as walking into the office Monday morning and discovering her lover is her new, married boss.
Alex has one goal: help his best friend, Sara Beth, keep her inheritance. This plan included a marriage of convenience–check–taking over the vice president’s position–check–and keeping the platonic state of their relationship secret until their position of power is solidified. That last takes time, but the resulting solitude weighs heavily. Until Cailin. He told himself a single night would have to be enough, but fate had other plans. Now he must choose between keeping his dirty little secret and fulfilling his promise to Sara Beth, or finding the strength to free them all from the secrets that bind them.
Dirty Little Secret is available at Amazon, B&N, my publisher Loose Id, and other retailers online. Be sure and check out the sequel, Naughty Little Christmas, featuring a hot rocker and the owner of Thrice, too! My newest release, book three in the series, Just a Little More, is due out in July. Sign up for my monthly newsletter to get the latest release information and monthly contests with great prizes!
And don't forget the other My Sexy Saturday blogs being shared this week -- you can find them here. Enjoy!
~ Ella
Favorite "Naughty" Bits
It's the last week to get the Secrets To Hide series on sale at All Romance ebooks! To celebrate -- and give you a sneak peek into the fun second installment in the series -- I've gathered some of my favorite quotes from Naughty Little Christmas to share with you. Have fun delving into Harley and Damien's explosive relationship -- then pop on over to ARe get your copy today!
Chapter One
The Christmas lights illuminating the area glinted in her eyes, and he couldn't keep his fucking gaze off her. Which was bad, because he didn't do employees -- ever. And he wanted to do her, no doubt about it. ~ Damien
Chapter Two
"So what was he like?" Cassie asked.
Shifting her purse higher on her shoulder, Harley tried to give herself time to think. "A real dickhead at first." She snorted at the memory of the way she'd shaken in her high-heeled boots those first few minutes after meeting him. "But I wore him down."
Chapter Three
"Uh-oh. Harley, what did you do to put such a big, bad frown on our boss's face?"
"Me?" She pulled her hand out of Marc's grasp in protest. "Nothing. From my experience, this is his permanent expression."
Chapter Four
"You're the one playing games. Go play with yourself and leave me out of it."
Between one breath and the next, she found herself pinned face-first against the nearby wall, Damien's arms sandwiching her between his hard frame and the unyielding surface. "I'd rather you played with me," he whispered, the sound rough, raspy in her ear.
Chapter Five
"Congratulations, Wonder Girl." And then he was lifting his head, those sinful lips coming closer and closer. They scraped, whisper soft, across her own. Harley couldn't resist the need to lick her lips, to savor his taste. The sight of her tongue obviously gave Damien other ideas, because he swooped up for another kiss, this one anything but soft. He devoured her, sucked on her tongue, and rolled her beneath him to hold her still as he took his pleasure from her mouth. Harley moaned deep in her throat. So good. He felt so good surrounding her, and she wondered in that instant if it was even possible to get enough of what this man was giving her.
Chapter Six
"If you think I'm going to pussyfoot around like you're some simpering idiot, think again. I am far too hungry to even consider that road, but neither am I willing to downplay what we're about to do together. Whether it's your first time or your hundredth, it's your first time with me, and contrary to what I've thought with every other woman in my life, this means something to me." ~ Damien
Chapter Seven
"What is it with you and this chick, Damien? You were barking at me the first time I met her. Like a dog with a bone," Ian muttered.
"She's not a chick, and she doesn't have great--" He couldn't finish that sentence, not only because it was an outright lie -- Harley had the most mouthwatering breasts he'd ever gotten his hands on, and he'd had his hands on plenty -- but because Ryan was red and choking and Alex looked completely baffled by the whole conversation. And he didn't want to discuss Harley's breasts, damn it, not with Ian or any other man.
Chapter Eight
"I want," he said as he reached for a small bag on the mantel, "to run one of these candies over every inch of your body. I want to taste the sweetness on your skin, taste you, until every time I put one in my mouth, all I can think about is you. Tonight." The last word scraped across his vocal cords as he took her hand and pulled her toward the bed. "Now strip." ~ Damien
Chapter Nine
Cheers roared through the room. Couple grabbed each other, kissing passionately. Singles tooted their party horns and threw confetti in the air. Chaos erupted, but all Damien could see was the stage, where Aftershock stood with Sound on Fire, waiting for the cue to begin playing. The lead singers' antics pumped up the crowd. A couple of the musicians jumped down from the stage, grabbing a pretty girl to lay one on. And far in the back, Harley stood, her bass cuddled to her chest like a shield, the look in her eyes as lost as he felt.
Chapter Ten
He itched to touch her, but more than that, he itched to fist that hair, hold her down, and torture her until they found a way around the gulf that separated them. Until he found a way to reconcile the pain he felt with the love that tore him up inside, a way not to be so goddamn angry at wanting her and needing her and knowing he could never trust her again. ~ Damien
Chapter Eleven
"I've seen you naked before, Harley. It's not a big deal."
Lightning didn't strike, which kinda surprised him.
"You -- Grr! Get out!" Harley actually stomped her foot, which did fantastic things to her already fantastic breasts. His zipper creaked in appreciation.
"Sure." He went to duck out, then popped his head back around the door, forcing his laughter back by sheer willpower. "Um, onesie?"
Harley turned her back then. Even from across the small room and with blurring plastic between them, he could see a red flush covering her neck and the tops of her shoulders. "In the laundry room, dumb-ass!"
Chapter Twelve
Since she'd been a little girl with that tiny Christmas tree on her nightstand, she'd wanted the perfect Christmas gift. Now, all these years later, she knew that gift wasn't a what but a who. Two whos.
Klio, her sweet, sweet baby.
And Damien.
Merry Christmas to me.
~ Harley
And if you liked these, be sure to check out book one, Dirty Little Secret, too!
~ Ella
My Sexy Saturday: Dirty Little Secret
Welcome to my very first My Sexy Saturday. MSS is a weekly blog hop where authors post 7 paragraphs or 7 sentences or 7 words from one of their books based on a theme, which this week is "Bump N Sexy!" That's right. We're talking hot 'n' heavy sex where you just can't wait!
Dirty Little Secret begins with just such an encounter. Alex and Cailin meet on the dance floor -- and what happens next is oh so sexy...
* * *
Turning for a last look at the crowded dance floor, she followed him down the long hall, berating herself for the stupidity of the move but unable—or unwilling—to say no. Something deep down in her soul, some gut feeling she thought she’d lost when her marriage fell to pieces, trusted this man. Maybe it was the way he seemed to read her mind, to know what she needed before she did. The way he anticipated every move, as if even a breath didn’t escape his notice. She’d never felt like the center of a man’s entire concentration. She wanted more, wanted to bask in the intensity of Alex’s attention.
And the occasional employee passing them assured her they weren’t completely alone. If she screamed, someone would hear. Wouldn’t they?
A wide, heavy door marked, appropriately enough, OFFICE waited at the end of the passageway. Alex knocked, and a dark-haired man with classic playboy looks opened the door. The surprise on his face eased more of her worry. So this wasn’t a regular occurrence; thank God, even if she did want to sink through the floor in embarrassment.
“Damien, could I—”
“No problem.” The man didn’t ask for an explanation, and his cheeky grin said he didn’t need any. “Just lock up when you leave.” He nodded politely at Cailin before turning to walk back the way they’d come.
Alex gave a rueful snort and dragged her inside. The minute the door clicked shut, he had her backed against its unforgiving surface. “I’m sorry,” he whispered roughly. “I need—”
Cailin kissed him before he could finish.
* * *
Dirty Little Secret (and it's sequel, Naughty Little Christmas) is on sale 25% off, this month only, at All Romance ebooks, so be sure and grab your copy soon to find out all the dirty little secrets Cailin and Alex must overcome. You can read more about the books in the Secrets To Hide series here.
And be sure to check out the other My Sexy Saturday blogs here, with lots of other great snippets of "Bump N Sexy" scenes. Enjoy!
~ Ella
Home for the Holiday Blog Hop: Spicy Cheese Cookies!
UPDATE!!
And the winner is...
Hang on, my daughter's choosing...
And the winner is...
NIKKI McCARVER!!!!
I can't thank you all enough for making my first blog hop and contest such a huge success! I'll definitely be doing this again soon. Happy Holidays!!!
~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~
Welcome to the Home for the Holidays blog hop, Ella Sheridan edition! We all know when the weather gets cold, we want something HOT. *ahem* To eat, of course. Oh goodness, that probably wasn't good either, but you KNOW what I mean. ;)
Anyway, one of my favorite holiday treats, and one I love making and giving away as gifts (but not too many, otherwise there isn't enough to eat!) are these Spicy Southern Cheese Cookies. The recipe came from my brother-in-law's side of the family, and they are awesome! They are also much easier to make than you might think, especially if you have the kids help roll them into balls.
Spicy Southern Cheese Cookies
1/2 lb. grated sharp cheddar cheese 2 1/2 c. all-purpose flour
1 c. softened butter (2 sticks) 1/2 tsp. paprika
1/2 tsp. garlic salt 3/4 tsp. red pepper
Add all ingredients into a large mixing bowl. The amount of pepper listed gives you a spicy cookie, but for my family, who prefers things on the milder side, I use about 1/2 tsp. Once all ingredients are incorporated, cover and chill in the refrigerator for 2-3 hours. Remove from fridge, scoop out using a tablespoon, and roll the mix into a ball by hand. Place approximately 2 inches apart on an ungreased cookie sheet. Flatten each ball by pressing lightly with a fork. Bake at 400 degrees for 10-15 minutes. If they start to brown, take them out -- browning is not good with cheese cookies! Cool and enjoy!
And to go with your spicy, savory treat, here's an excerpt from my current release, Dirty Little Secret. Both are sure to spice up your holidays. ;) And don't forget to check back on Christmas Eve when the sequel, Naughty Little Christmas, an even spicier offering, is released!
~ ~ ~ ~ Excerpt ~ ~ ~ ~
A pause in the cacophony was followed by the sultry sound of a sax filtering across the dance floor. Cailin stopped to catch her breath at the sound. She hadn’t been completely alone as she danced; several men had approached, partnered her for a few minutes, then left, leaving her available for another dance, another partner. She’d thought she would feel awkward dancing with strangers, but she didn’t. She enjoyed it. And she didn’t feel like a slut, either.
As the timbre of the music worked its way into her bones, she let her body move, sway, absorb the pleasure of sense and sound. When broad, heavy palms landed on her rocking hips, she startled. She whipped her head around, only to meet the darkest, sexiest brown eyes she’d ever seen. They blazed with emotion in a face that put Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise, and every other Sexiest Man Alive to absolute shame. Her mouth opened in a soft “oh” as she stared.
God, he was beautiful.
And then he smiled. It was soft, secretive, sexy. Steaming. Her legs wobbled beneath her, but his grip kept her upright. Then his body made contact with hers—full-body contact, her back, point by point, met by the muscled heat of his chest, stomach, thighs. A gasp escaped as his pelvis brushed the base of her spine and an unmistakably rigid bulge made itself known. The next moment, she was lost in the intensity of his touch.
Her head turned to the side, Cailin tried to smile, but nerves and something else had wicked the moisture from her lips. He moved against her, his hips more agile than Patrick Swayze’s in Dirty Dancing, and nuzzled his sharp nose against the cheek closest to him.
“Hi.”
Her head reeled, her tongue tied itself in a firm knot, and she wished the solid floor beneath her would do her a favor and swallow her whole. Fast. “Hi.”
And then she gave herself up to the music. Talking was impossible, but moving wasn’t. And it felt delicious. She melted into the firm body supporting her, countered the sway of his hips, and fell in love with a man she’d spoken only one word to. Of course, she only loved him for his body. Nothing could compare. Nothing could ever feel as good as he felt against her. His arms circled her waist, his hands flat on the soft curve of her stomach. She wanted them on her breasts. On her mound. Between her legs. The music made love to her, one beat at a time, and he partnered it perfectly until her brain couldn’t think, couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. Didn’t want to. All she wanted was for this moment to last forever.
Which, of course, it couldn’t.
At the music’s final note, the man turned her in his arms, his tight grip pulling her into his body until her front was as firm against him as her back had been. She looked up—and up. Her head tilted back farther than she’d imagined it would have to in order to meet those chocolate eyes. He had to be at least six-four, much taller than Sean—
No, she wouldn’t think about Sean tonight. In the fantasy world she’d created, Sean no longer existed. He belonged to tomorrow and reality. Now was for sweet heat and the fantasy lover staring down at her.
“I’m Alex,” he said. His voice was a mix of gravel and velvet, the sound clenching her womb. Cailin blushed as a rush of hot moisture coated her inner thighs.
“Cailin.”
Alex tucked his head down to hear her, and at her name, he turned, eye to eye, his wide pupils mesmerizing her. Time stopped. Sound receded. And then he wet his bottom lip with a slick pink tongue. “Nice to meet you, Cailin.”
That seductive smile flashed again, so close she could touch it, taste it, before he straightened. The press of the heavy wall of his chest into her sensitive breasts brought a moan to her lips, one she abruptly cut off as soon as she realized what she’d done. Jeez, Cailin. Get it together. But he didn’t seem to mind. In fact his eyes heated further, and he rubbed lightly against her. In the back of her mind was the thought that if anyone else had pulled that move, she would have to remove his balls with her knee, but with Alex, it felt right. She didn’t know why. It just did.
Music swelled again, and Alex took control, moving her against him, the subtle rubbing of their bodies the most sensual foreplay she’d ever experienced. She knew in that moment that she would have sex with this man. If he wanted her—and the erection still going strong between them said he did—she would have him. She wouldn’t lose this opportunity. Guess she’d found her courage…in his arms.
The minutes passed with no regard to how much she wanted them to pause. As the next song came to an end, she realized they were close to the edge of the dance floor. Alex stepped aside, took her hand in his, and led her toward what looked like a dark hallway heading off to one side. Cailin balked, some unwanted feminine instinct waking her to reality and danger, but Alex soothed her. “Offices. The owner’s a friend of mine. I thought we could talk someplace quieter.”
Turning for a last look at the crowded dance floor, she followed him down the long hall, berating herself for the stupidity of the move but unable—or unwilling—to say no. Something deep down in her soul, some gut feeling she thought she’d lost when her marriage fell to pieces, trusted this man. Maybe it was the way he seemed to read her mind, to know what she needed before she did. The way he anticipated every move, as if even a breath didn’t escape his notice. She’d never felt like the center of a man’s entire concentration. She wanted more, wanted to bask in the intensity of Alex’s attention.
And the occasional employee passing them assured her they weren’t completely alone. If she screamed, someone would hear. Wouldn’t they?
A wide, heavy door marked, appropriately enough, OFFICE waited at the end of the passageway. Alex knocked, and a dark-haired man with classic playboy looks opened the door. The surprise on his face eased more of her worry. So this wasn’t a regular occurrence; thank God, even if she did want to sink through the floor in embarrassment.
“Damien, could I—”
“No problem.” The man didn’t ask for an explanation, and his cheeky grin said he didn’t need any. “Just lock up when you leave.” He nodded politely at Cailin before turning to walk back the way they’d come.
Alex gave a rueful snort and dragged her inside. The minute the door clicked shut, he had her backed against its unforgiving surface.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered roughly. “I need—”
Cailin kissed him before he could finish.
~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~
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Ella
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Arik
I spent many years dreaming of writing around diapers, every-evening dinners, and the amount of laundry only two kids two years apart can create. My sister, Dani Wade, was writing romance novels targeted at Harlequin, and I remembered how that felt, the evolving of a new world, the playing out of a scene across the screen of my mind that somehow, through the miracle of the pen, translated itself to the page. But I didn't try it.
See, I was afraid. Afraid of what people would think, especially my sister. Afraid I couldn't do it. And most of all, afraid I truly had nothing of value to share. And then came Arik.
I don't even remember exactly how he came into being. I only remember asking myself, if I could write my fantasy hero, what would he be like? Well, Arik is it. He is dark, sexy, a loner, a male in need of healing and yet the embodiment of strength. He's everything I ever wanted in a book hero. But then I had to write him.
And that's where everything changed. Because I didn't write Arik immediately--I spent three years honing my skill as a writer before I ever let myself touch his story (and yes, for me most stories are about the hero; the heroine is just a replacement for me, lol!). The world of the Archai and the supernatural characters that populated it deserved my best, and I refused to begin the story until I knew for certain I was ready to give that best. So, in a way, Arik is responsible for the writer I've become, not just someone who dabbles, but a committed, skilled author who can finally bring that scene stuck in my head onto the page in a way that makes readers forget they're reading a book and not actually walking along beside the characters themselves.
Wanna know more about Arik? How about a little treat? Here's Arik's introduction in the first chapter of Unbroken. Go on and read it; you know you want to! Indulge yourself with the hero who changed my world. ;)
*
The roads were rank with the scent of recent rain, exhaust, and unwashed human. Stalking through the midnight-black streets, skirting the circles of light cast by an occasional irritating streetlight, Arik held back an ugly grin at the expressions on the few bums and far-gone club hoppers he happened to pass. No long hair flowing like a curtain behind him, no leather duster flapping in the slight wind--who the hell needed the theatrics, anyway?--but it didn't stop the fear that sparked in the eyes that witnessed his passage through the night. And they should be afraid. He wasn't the only one on the hunt tonight.
His senses flared, humming like a refrigerator on full cold as he followed the shifters' trail through the maze of sidewalks scattered with flashing neon lights and the occasional roar of sound when a bar door opened abruptly. Downtown Nashville was full of nightlife, but the middle-of-the-night cold kept most of the revelry inside rather than spilling onto the streets as it did in the summer. Hunting was harder then, but tonight, with a full group of shifters moving through the heavily traveled area, most of the oblivious population wisely kept their sport indoors and out of his way.
A yellow cab, the "available" light a beacon for customers, passed on the narrow street. A blast of exhaust clouded the air, fucking up his nose, and Arik hissed. The sound startled a drunk on the darkened steps jutting out from a nearby alley, and the man jerked, his bottle of cheap liquor rattling as it hit the concrete. He slid wild eyes in Arik's direction before hastily shuffling farther into the yawning cavern between two buildings. Arik ignored the interruption and continued on.
They were close, he knew, the ones he sought. Not Archai like him. These were the dark ones, the Anigma that had risen in the Great War, after life for the Archai--and Arik--had changed forever. Shifters that had given up their honor for... Well, whatever the hell they'd given it up for, they hadn't won. No shifter had. But still Arik hunted the Anigma. They were his enemy, and he'd be on them in moments.
Turning left at the next corner, Arik allowed his animal to the fore, using his griffin sight to scan the next several blocks. Even in the darkness of this less frequented section of downtown, he instantly homed in on the group of males dispersing at the entry of a local blues bar. The lit sign lazily proclaiming the place to be Lenny's shone on the half dozen black-clad figures entering the building, the rest of the Anigma team fading into the surrounding shadows. Arik had no doubt the males stayed close. When he followed their team members inside, the rest would know.
"Let 'em," he said, low and mean, the animal strong in his voice. Power surged in his muscles, the adrenaline of the hunt, and he found himself standing outside the bar in seconds. Too fast for human eyes to see, but not the Anigma. The whisper of their shifting weights as they noticed him was easily discernible to his sensitive ears. He ignored them and stepped inside.
*
Over on The Mutual Admiration Society, we have what we call Friday Feature Foto--the first Friday of every month, we feature a character from one of our books, including a photo. Hop over there and check out my personal message for Arik this month!