Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 299

Read Chapter One of REINED IN! (Contest)

Next Thursday, Reined In , Book 7 in the Lone Star Lovers series, releases—again. Yes, it’s another of the stories I got the rights to from Samhain when they closed their doors. If you’ve never read it before, then you can pretend it’s brand new.

This one’s a standalone, so you don’t have to have read any of the series to fully enjoy it. I’ve included an excerpt below to tease you. You’ll get to know my heroine and her two cowboys pretty well by the time you get to the end of the chapter, and then you can imagine what sorts of games they play as they rush toward their Happy Ever After!

If you’re curious about the rest of the series, just click on the covers!

  

 

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Contest

For a chance to win one of the stories above, answer me this:

Do you think you could love living on a ranch?

*~*~*~*

Reined In

Who says a cowgirl can’t have it all?

Stormy is a rancher’s daughter through and through, and although she went away to college, her soul is firmly rooted in home ground–and the cowboys she grew up tormenting. When she hears her father might be selling the ranch, she packs her bags and high tails it for home, terrified she might never get another chance to lasso the heart of one of her cowboys before the hands scatter to the four winds.

For Cam and Joe, foreman and wrangler on the ranch, Stormy was a pain in the seat of their Wranglers. But when she roars back onto the ranch, the spoiled brat they remember emerges from the cloud of dust in skin-tight jeans and spike heels and all grown up.

It only takes a hot second to figure out she’s hell-bent on seduction. But if she thinks they’re going to make it easy for her to pick which cowboy she wants most, she’s sadly mistaken. And who says she has to choose one?

Pre-order your copy here!

Excerpt from Reined In…

The little red Miata ground to a halt, kicking up caliche to pepper the porch’s underskirting like shrapnel.

Joe Halloran suppressed a grin and tipped up the cowboy hat riding low over his brow with a lazy finger. Minutes ago, when the sound of an engine had screamed down the long private drive, he’d groaned because this was his first break of the day and he really wasn’t up for company. But as soon as he’d seen who it was, he settled deeper into his rocking chair.

Trouble had arrived. And about damn time.

Without moving from his chair, he slid his boots inches to the left on the porch railing to get a better view as the driver ground the gearshift into park. Joe glanced to the side. “What the hell do you suppose she’s doin’ here, Cam?”

Seated beside him, his buddy grunted from beneath the hat he had dipped low enough to shade his entire face. “Not a clue. Suppose her old man let somethin’ slip?”

Joe gave a snort, lowered his brim again and settled deeper into his chair, ready to play. What had been the end of a hellacious day of work had suddenly taken a mighty interesting turn.

A car door slammed. Between the porch slats, he watched a pair of long legs scissor with brisk precision. High heels tapped on the steps.

Still, he didn’t give a single indication he’d heard her. Instead, he took a deep breath and scratched his bare chest.

A fingernail dug into his forearm. “Hey, cowboy.”

He muttered but didn’t move a muscle. She knew his damn name.

She poked him again with her nail. “Cowboy, wake up.”

The hint of irritation in her silky voice gratified him in a way that didn’t bear too much introspection. He leaned back his head and squinted at her. “Peaches,” he exclaimed, a grin stretching his mouth. “Long time, no see.”

Stormy Jordan narrowed her gaze into a mean glare. Yeah, she hated the nickname because she knew he’d given it to her based on the shape of her little ass. To make matters worse, the name had stuck like glue when her daddy had begun calling her it too. Funny, she’d never told him why she detested it so much.

“Cowboy,” she said, her voice dripping with syrup. “How ’bout you move your butt and go get my bags?”

Again, he tipped his hat up to stare into a pair of silvery-blue eyes that cut him like a Ginsu knife. “You talkin’ to me, ma’am?” he asked, being deliberately slow because he knew it irked the hell out of her.

She lowered her pale brows over that cold stare. “Well, who the hell else would I be talkin’ to? My bags? I’d like to take a shower. I’ve been on the road since dawn.”

Still, he didn’t move. He let his gaze slide over her curves, taking a detour downward then back up. When his gaze reached her reddening face again, one side of his mouth twitched. He could almost hear the steam hissing.

She tapped a toe impatiently. “Since you don’t have anything better to do…”

Joe cut a glance at his buddy.

Cam’s lips tightened, but he settled deeper in his seat, resetting his hat to shade his eyes—giving Joe his silent approval to do his thing.

Hiding a grin, Joe bolted forward in his chair, rising so swiftly she didn’t have a chance to move back. “Sure thing, ma’am,” he said, crowding her against the rail. “I’ll get on it right away, ma’am.” Only he made another slow perusal of her body to make sure she knew he was talking about more than her damn suitcases.

She cleared her throat and sidestepped him. “Cowboy, don’t get ’em dirty.”

“Now, sweetheart, that would be a cryin’ damn shame.”

 

Cameron Mitchell hid a smile as Stormy stomped to the far side of the porch and Joe ambled down the steps to her car. Those two had always been at each other’s throats. Watching them spar was more exciting than any UFC fight and far bloodier.

Still, as much as they poked and prodded at each other, he’d never seen either of them back away. And Stormy always came back for more, so he assumed she liked it.

Cam and Stormy’s interactions were quieter, but no less intense. The woman had a way of setting a man’s libido on fire even while she did her best to make him feel two feet tall or like he had two left feet. It was a talent. One that had kept the boys flocking all over this very porch when she’d been in high school. Which had kept Joe mean and edgy, because he’d wanted her even back then when she was still jailbait.

The years hadn’t dulled the edges of her attraction. Sun-streaked blonde hair was held up in a clip, exposing her delicate neck and ears. Her black, button-down blouse was two sizes too small, emphasizing the swell of her B-cup breasts and revealing the sliver of bare skin between the shirt and the top of her short, fanny-hugging black skirt. That hint of firm belly was enough to make Cam hard enough to hammer a nail.

He recrossed his legs and interlaced his fingers to let them rest above the swell of his cock. If she looked close enough, she’d know how she affected him. Even after all this time.

Maybe it was wrong, but he’d lusted after Stormy Jordan since she’d sprouted breasts and learned to wag her bottom like a siren. He and Joe had come to the Jordan family ranch when they were in high school, looking for part-time work as wranglers, thinking cowboy work couldn’t be that hard. Hell, girls dug a man in chaps and a hat. They’d stayed long after graduation because of their love for the ranch…and maybe, their enduring attraction to a certain wild filly.

Both he and Joe had been objects of her youthful attempts at flirting, and out of respect for her daddy, they’d deflected her. But seven years ago, he’d had enough of dreaming about her and made the mistake of surprising Stormy with a kiss. He could still remember the softness of her lush mouth, the way her curves had fit against him. Something he’d never told Joe about and never would.

The kiss hadn’t meant a thing to Stormy. She’d probably only been experimenting and forgotten about it long ago. But he hadn’t. And sometimes late at night, he pulled out that memory when he needed release. Her face, that mouth, had inspired many a late-night fantasy. However, he knew she wasn’t for him. Stormy Jordan was destined to be some rich man’s trophy, not some cowboy’s girl.

 

Joe popped the trunk and walked around to the rear of her car. Two cases, both leather and with a designer logo stamped all over the hide, lay inside. He picked up the first and set it on the ground beside him, then hefted the second, larger case. Footsteps clicked down the steps, but he didn’t glance around the open trunk. He placed the large case on the gravel road and slammed down the trunk.

He bent to pick it up, but it slid to the side, landing hard. Dust billowed up and laid a fine powder over the burnished leather. He wrapped his fingers around the handle, but before he lifted the case to stand it up, a foot landed on the back of his hand, the heel grinding.

Joe pursed his lips and aimed a glare at the woman whose features were set, her eyes alert. “Better lift that shoe, sweetheart, or more than your suitcase is gonna be sittin’ in the dirt.”

“I told you to be careful,” she said softly.

“Darlin’, sometimes I can be,” he murmured slyly. “But I think this thing needs a firmer hand.” Without thinking of any consequences, only of his need to test her resolve, he let go of the case and twisted his wrist to grab her ankle. Then he slowly slid his hand up her calf and over her knee.

Her soft skin felt like silk. The temptation was too strong to resist. She didn’t pull away. Didn’t gasp or flinch. Joe kept on going, his hand rising up her inner thigh. When he was inches from feminine heat, she called him on his bluff and reached down to shove his hand away. “Think you can handle it from here, cowboy?” she said, her voice sounding strained.

Joe drew in a long slow breath, inhaling her spicy scent. “Why don’t you just wait and see?” He lifted the bag, reached for the smaller one and turned on his heel.

Behind him, he heard the crunch of her heels. He lifted his gaze to Cam’s and arched a brow. What the hell had just happened? He’d almost felt her up right there with an audience.

Cam’s expression was neutral, and he glanced away.

Joe’s cheeks warmed as he trudged up the steps, Stormy right behind him.

They had Stormy to themselves. Was she aware they’d be the only ones in the house for the weekend? His mind spun with the possibilities. Possibilities that didn’t have to leave Cam in the dust—if he was willing to play along. But mostly Joe thought about how soft her skin had felt beneath the scrape of his callused palm, and the little quiver he’d detected right before she’d snatched away the prize.

He had years of Stormy fantasies stored away. A whole damn menu of acts he wanted to perform—some not legal in most southern states. If she gave him even the slightest hint she was interested, he wasn’t going to let a little thing like the fact she was daddy’s little girl get in the way. Not this time. Not when Stormy’s daddy had all but given him his approval to do whatever it took to make sure Stormy figured out what she really wanted…or who.

CC Bridges: Sleepy Summer Days

At the beginning of August, it seems like there’s a lot of summer left. An entire month of hot, sleepy days of summer. (At least in my corner of the globe!) Yet the stores try to remind us that it’s not too long until Autumn with back to school sales and Halloween displays.

Instead of worrying about the future, let’s take a moment to stop. Just breathe. Smell that sea air as the wind whips it around your face. Listen to the ocean waves as they crest against the shore. Feel the sand beneath your feet, a gentle massage that might be a bit too hot against your soles.

I’m very lucky that I live here in New Jersey – yes, I said New Jersey. I know my state gets a bad reputation, but there are many things I love about my home, and being so close to the beach is one of them.

There’s nothing more restorative to the soul than taking a moment to stare at the horizon, knowing that the world goes beyond what you can see. I like to step on the boardwalk and just watch the ocean and just be. I get some of my best ideas while watching the water.

So I wrote not one, but two stories about the beach. One, a short story, you can read for free on my webpage! http://ccbridges.net/shore.html

In The Shorehouse:

Vince invites his two best friends to his family’s house down the shore for Memorial Day weekend, with plans to set the two of them up.

However, thanks to some magic cookies and honesty, he finds out that three is sometimes better than two.

Note: This story is mmf

One of the nicest things about living here is being able to go to the beach in the fall and winter, after the heavy tourist season dies down. It’s during this season that I set my novella “Love in the Time of Hurricanes” which is my love letter to the Jersey shore.

The night Nick Henderson storms into Martelli’s Pizzeria, he’s just looking for something to eat. Along with dinner, he finds Lou Martelli—pizza cook extraordinaire and Jersey Shore native. Nick is renting a Shore house for the winter while taking classes at the local community college as he devises a way to escape the accounting major his father chose for him.

When Lou offers to show Nick around, heat flares between them as they realize they have more in common than domineering families. But it’s not all fun and games on the boardwalk. Hurricane Sandy blows ashore, changing the place Nick was starting to think of as home. His peace is shattered, and it will take everything he has to keep his relationship with Lou from being torn apart by the storm brewing around them.

States of Love: Stories of romance that span every corner of the United States.

 

Buy Links:

Dreamspinner: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/love-in-the-time-of-hurricanes-by-cc-bridges-8262-b

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Love-Time-Hurricanes-States-Book-ebook/dp/B06WP7DXXX/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1487819184&sr=8-1&keywords=love+in+the+time+of+hurricanes

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/love-in-the-time-of-hurricanes-cc-bridges/1125793547?ean=2940157413507

Books a Million: http://www.booksamillion.com/p/Love-T...

About the Author

CC Bridges is a mild-mannered librarian by day, but by night she writes about worlds of adventure and romance. When she’s not busy solving puzzles in an escape room, she can be found diving into comics or binge-watching superhero movies. She writes surrounded by books, spare computing equipment, a fluffy dog, and a long-suffering husband in the state of New Jersey.

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ccbridgeswriter

Blog: http://blog.ccbridges.net/

Website: http://www.ccbridges.net

Janet Lane-Walters: Murder and Mint Tea (Giveaway)

The birth of a series. Years ago, I was selling short stories frequently. Now this was in 1968 when my first short story was published. I wrote a story called “And So We Walk On Eggshells.” I sent it out to an editor who had bought several of my other stories. The mss came back with this comment, “This sounds like the synopsis of a novel.” I put the story in the file cabinet and forgot about it. The short story market went bust with many magazines closing or changing direction.

So I moved on to novels. The learning process took several years and many rejections of the same book. In 1972 the first novel sold. There were so many publishers in existence that this book had sixteen rejections before the acceptance. I was at that time writing what I knew, medical romances. I was a nurse.

Then I found that manuscript for that sounded like a synopsis. I had thrown out a lot of false starts during my striving to become a novelist. The short story and the comments by the editor were in a box in the cellar. I began the quest to turn this into a book called Murder and Mint Tea. I didn’t intend this to be a series but the book in the initial printing sold well and even ended up as a book on tape. Things happened and publishers closed down. This was at the dawn of electronic books when books were sold to be read on the computer. But another idea for my heroine to step into the limelight.

I wrote a second, third, fourth and fifth “cozy mysteries” with my take on the genre. Now it’s several publishers later and the books are live again. They’ve been updated from their earlier versions. Station wagons are gone. Cell phones are in, though my heroine isn’t used to using one but she’s learning. A sixth book is on the horizon. My new publisher has designed a series of covers that show my heroine’s “familiar” Robespierre, a Maine Coon cat.

He was once a living cat found by my sons in the wire hub of my silver car with red racing stripes. The vet said he was perhaps four weeks old. We fed him with a baby bottle and he grew to twenty-five pounds at his greatest weight.

The books, all but the first one have new titles except Murder and Mint Tea. They are Murder and Poisoned Tea, Murder and Tainted Tea, Murder and Bitter Tea, Murder and Herbal tea. I’m currently working on Murder and Sweet Tea. They’re all published by Books We Love LTD, my Canadian publisher.

Next year, I’ll be blogging about all the changes I’ve seen in 50 years of being a published author.  You can find me at  https://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com/ My books are available from Kindle, Nook, Kobo, Smashwords and other venues.

Giveaway

I would like to give away a print copy of Murder and Mint Tea. It will be a random drawing from those who comment of this post.

Mary Hughes: Bite My Fire (Giveaway)

Thank you to the incomparable Delilah Devlin for having me here today!

Music. Do you like music? Most people listen to it while working or exercising. We sing in the car or shower or have favorite songs that make us stop what we’re doing and listen.

Does music set your hips swaying or bring tears to your eyes? Music has a way of reaching inside and touching us. It’s almost magical what music can do. No matter how bad the day is going, a happy song can bring us up. No matter how many aches and pains we have, when we hear the songs from our high school days we’re instantly sixteen again.

What kind do you listen to? Are you country, rock and roll, classical, or one of the amazing number of hybrid fusion styles?

I play flute, have done for more years than I care to count, lol. My husband plays cello, and ditto. If you like Greensleeves, I have a short rendition on Irish flute here https://youtu.be/A0AB5M0nPJc  and There Is a Balm in Gilead on regular flute here https://youtu.be/zDtO7Or34IQ

Music plays a big part in my life. So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that it seeped over into my writing. Several of my Biting Love heroines are musicians.  Rocky in Downbeat is a flute player like me, Junior of Biting Oz plays clarinet and saxophone in a pit orchestra, and Nixie is a punk rock musician in Biting Nixie.

If you’re curious how music and vampires go together, the Biting Love series is on sale, only 99 cents each. Nine steamy, zany, action-packed vampire romances for UNDER ten bucks. But this special goes away forever Sunday, so grab yours now. Check out the Entangled site for complete buying choices. (https://entangledpublishing.com/autho...)

Or start the series on Amazon here, BN here, or iTunes here. (https://www.amazon.com/dp/B073TSV9VV) (https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/bite-my-fire-mary-hughes/1100402234?ean=9781640632233) (https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/bite-my-fire/id1257724029?mt=11)

What about you? What’s your favorite song, singer, band, or type of music? What is there about it that you love—does it set your body moving or make you reach for the tissues or…?

GIVEAWAYS: Normally I only reveal my super-secret giveaway page to my newsletter readers, but in thanks for being here today, I’m sharing it with you! Usually there’s at least one Kindle giveaway—today and today only, there are TWO up for grabs. http://www.maryhughesbooks.com/Giveaways.html

About the Author

I write steamy paranormal romances and wickedly fun romantic adventures, stories that crackle with action and love. Challenging, smart alpha men—and women not afraid of a challenge. Oh, do the sparks fly when he meets THE woman guaranteed to infuriate and inflame him most.

In real life I’m an author, a spouse and mother, a flutist, a computer geek, and a binge-TV-watcher of The Flash, Elementary, NCIS, and Wynonna Earp.

I’d love to hear from you!

Newsletter http://www.maryhughesbooks.com/Newsletter.html

Facebook http://www.facebook.com/MaryHughesAuthor

Twitter http://www.twitter.com/MaryHughesBooks

BookBub https://www.bookbub.com/authors/mary-hughes

Website http://www.maryhughesbooks.com/

Blog http://maryhughesbooks.blogspot.com/

Group Blog http://www.lustwithalaugh.com/

Lindsay McKenna: Taking a Chance (Excerpt)

Delos Series

7B2 Sequel and Novella

Ali Montero pushed aside her pride and accepted help from arrogant Ram Torres to help rescue her sister Cara from kidnappers. Now safely back at home with her family, Cara doesn’t feel safe without Ram nearby to protect her. He agrees to stay with Ali and her family until Cara recovers, but spending time around the boisterous Montero family makes Ram yearn for the one thing he has never had—a loving family. Ram wants to explore the connection he feels with Ali. But can he convince her to take a chance on such a flawed man?

BUY LINKS:

Kobo.com: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/taking-a-chance-26

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0725QDZ98/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1495110135&sr=1-2&keywords=Taking+a+Chance+by+Lindsay+McKenna

BN.com: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1126407909?ean=2940157601720

iBooks/Apple/iTunes: https://linkmaker.itunes.apple.com/en-us/details/1237462912?country=us&mediaType=books&term=Taking+A+Chance+by+Lindsay+McKenna

EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT…
CHAPTER 1

Ali felt anxious and frustrated while trying to project calm to her younger sister, Cara. At age twenty-six, two years younger than herself, Cara shakily stood between their parents, trying to smile, but it was forced and brittle. She tried to look ”normal,” but that word would never apply to her again.

Ali watched as her parents, their arms around her sister’s waist, carefully walked down the steps from the Operations building. Her sister was still weak after having been a prisoner in Mexico for three long weeks.

Above them, two A-10 Warthogs thundered by.  The family was now at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base in Tucson, Arizona.  Ali had helped rescue her sister, along with the Artemis Security team. Afterwards, the group had flown from Mexico to Tucson for a long, arduous debriefing with the FBI, CIA, DEA and ATF.  Everyone was exhausted, but Cara looked pale and weak. Ali suspected her sister would head straight for bed as soon as she got home.

Cara had been kidnapped off a street in Tucson less than a month ago.  A kindergarten teacher for Delos charity, she’d been walking home from the school, only five blocks from the home where she and her parents lived. She had been stuffed into a car trunk, tied up, duct-taped across her mouth and drugged.  She was then driven into the Sierra Madre mountains in the state of Sonora, which butted up against the US border.  There, she was thrown in with three female German tourists, also abducted by his men. The four women were kept in a mountain fortress belonging to a drug lord named Azarola. who planned to sell his captives to sex traffickers.

Cara found out that a container ship anchored at Puerto Nuevo on Baja’s west coast would be leaving shortly for Asia.  She would be hidden in a truck and driven dockside, put on board the container vessel, and join over a hundred other kidnapped women from North and South America, as well as children as young as eight years old, promised to buyers awaiting them. Fortunately, their plan was foiled by Ali and the Delos security team.

Now, Ram Torres, Ali’s black ops partner on the rescue mission, came and stood quietly by her side.  They traded brief looks with one another. Ram’s presence always calmed Ali as nothing else ever could.  She could feel tension radiating off him, his green eyes narrowed upon Cara as the family slowly approached them.  Ram and Ali had been working together for years in the military and she was highly sensitized to his feelings.  Right now, he was feeling very protective of Ali, knowing that her sister would be leaning heavily upon her in the coming weeks after being rescued.

Cara’s forced smile made Ali’s stomach clench.  Her sister was, as Ram had put it earlier, “a clam without a shell,” unlike Ali.  They had always had very different personalities, even as children. Cara had always wanted to be a teacher, and had gloried in her job as a kindergarten teacher.  All she’d wanted was to make a positive change in the lives of needy children.

Ali, on the other hand, had gone into the Marine Corps at age eighteen.

“Ali!” Cara said brightly, “Thank you for coming!” and her parents released their arms around her, allowing her to move freely toward her sister.

Swept up in her grief for her traumatized sister, Ali forced her own wooden smile, opened her arms and took Cara into her embrace.  As her arms wrapped around Cara, Ali could feel her sister trembling, and Cara clung tighter and tighter to her, burying her face against Ali’s shoulder.

As they separated, Ali saw the worry in her parents’ eyes.  They knew Cara had been shattered by the experience–who wouldn’t be?  And afterwards, she’d been debriefed for three long days, trying to answer questions along with the German women who had also been captured.  Authorities had asked them detailed questions about Azarola and his fortress in the mountains, where they had been kept prisoners.

Ali knew that each woman had undergone a thorough medical exam by a woman doctor on base, and then spent hours with an Air Force psychiatrist.  All that debrief material would be sent to Artemis Security, the in-house firm for Delos charities. The top-secret debrief would also be sent to other security and law enforcement agencies worldwide who were dealing with this situation.

Ali was itching to read that report! As she released Cara, she saw that her skin was stretched tight across her high cheekbones, her black hair drawn into a pony tail, her dark brown eyes almost black with terror etched deep within them.

Ali knew her baby sister did not have the internal grit that she did.  Cara had always been the “soft” one in the family, as her father, Diego, had once confided to her.  Mary, her mother, once told her that Cara had been born without a protective shell and therefore, needed protection.

“Cara, I’d like you to meet Ram Torres, the man who led the Artemis team to free you and the others,” Ali said.

Cara turned to the tall, dark-haired man with intense green eyes.  “Thank you, Mr. Torres,” and she stuck her hand out toward him.  Her voice trembled.  “Thank you for saving all of us…”

Ram managed a gentle smile, knowing that his hard, weathered face had been known to frighten women and children.  He gently grasped Cara’s damp, cool hand.  “You’re welcome, Senorita Montero.”

“Call me Cara,” she insisted, releasing his hand.  Then, glancing at her parents, who stood nearby, she asked wearily, “Mama? Papa?  Can we go home now?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Mary said, coming forward, sliding her arm around Cara’s waist again.  “Papa put our pick-up in the parking lot across the street.  Come this way.”

Hesitating, Cara gave Ail and Ram an anxious look.  “You’re coming with us, aren’t you?  I don’t feel safe alone. I was told in the debriefing that Mr. Torres would be staying with us at our home for a while to make me feel safe. Is that right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ram said, speaking up.  “I’m your personal bodyguard detail.  Your parents have given me their guest bedroom and I’ll be in the house and accompany you whenever you go.  You’ll be safe, Cara.”

Ali saw her sister’s face mirror utter relief hearing Ram’s words of reassurance.  She knew he could project quiet strength to her sister and her parents. He was a wonderful anchor for someone to hold onto.

Ram had been right in his raw assessment of her younger sister’s state:  she was traumatized to the point of being lost, unable to grapple with what had happened to her. Actually, Ali still wasn’t sure what had happened to Cara.  She was eager to get her hands on the debrief report that Lockwood had.

“Oh,” Cara whispered, giving Ram a grateful look, “that’s wonderful. Thank you for doing this, Mr. Torres.”

“Call me Ram, and it’s my job—one I’m happy to provide, by the way. Just know that I’ll be with you for as long as I can.”  He gestured to Ali, who stood nearby.  “And remember, your sister is a trained operator, just like me.  You actually have two guard dogs in the house protecting you.  Ali is just as good as I am at being a private security detail.”

Cara gave her a grateful look.  “I-I know.  But it’s nice to have both of you so close.  I-I worry that Azarola will send men back here to take me away again.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Ali told her.

“A-are you staying with us, Ali?  Tell me you will, okay?” Cara begged.

“I’m staying for as long as you need me, Cara.”  Ali reached out, briefly touching her sister’s slump shoulder.  “You’re safe now.  And there’s no way Azarola will come after you again.  Ram and his team put a huge hole in their operations.  They aren’t focused on you any longer.  They’ve got their hands full with other issues they have to address, okay?” and she gave her sister a very confident look.

There was no way Ali was going to appear weak, unsure or hesitant around Cara.  She knew what it took to make her sister feel stable again.  She’d spent her formative years being Cara’s shield and protector, so it was easy to move into that role once more for Cara’s sake.  Instantly, she saw Cara grow a little less frightened.

“That’s wonderful!” Cara wobbled. She reached out, gripping Ali’s hand.  “I’m ready now. Let’s go home.”

Reminder: Rose’s Online Plotting Bootcamp: September 4 – 29, 2017

Permission granted to forward

This message is for any authors or aspiring authors who might be interested in some intensive help developing their next stories.

Don’t let that word “intensive” scare you away; I’ve led newbies, as well as multi-published authors, through our plotting process numerous times. Everyone comes away with new knowledge and insight, or at the very least, some terrific brainstorming support!

While lessons and exercises will be posted throughout the month of September, this is truly a self-paced class. We all have busy lives, and the workshop is designed to accommodate any schedule. Enjoy the pitch below!

Back by popular demand!
ROSE’S ONLINE PLOTTING BOOTCAMP

Dates: September 4 – 29, 2017

Last date to register: September 4, 2017

Cost: $50.00—cheap, considering everything you get!

Your DI (Drill Instructor): Delilah Devlin

Offered through: www.rosescoloredglasses.com

What you can expect:

LOGLINE (Lunges)

PREMISE (Pushups)

CHARACTER (Strengthening exercises)

CONFLICT! CONFLICT! CONFLICT!

Breaking through the STORY STRUCTURE stronghold

Battling the PLOT LINES

We do more in one month than some people do all year! Get tough! Get motivated! Get plotting!

Join your Drill Instructor, Delilah Devlin, to learn a methodical approach to harness your creativity in order to produce an in-depth plot for your next novel.

Sound scary? It is!!!! Especially when you’re staring at an empty page without a compass and a map to guide you through the novelistic jungle. Your DI will lead you through four weeks of tactics, exercises, and training that will help strengthen your abilities. Delilah will accomplish this with weekly lessons, bi-weekly chats, and daily online communication. Join her for bivouac in September!

Join this elite force now!

For those who don’t know, my sister and I co-founded the website for writers called Rose’s Colored Glasses in 2004. From that site, we run a critique group and provide workshops—some free and some for pay. In September, I will be leading a month-long plotting bootcamp. It’s a great time to join—something you can do for yourself to get ready for NANOWRIMO in November! Join me if you can! ~DD

How’s our workshop different from every other one out there? I’ll provide feedback and brainstorming every step of the way!

Interested? Follow this link to sign up:

http://www.rosescoloredglasses.com/Online%20plotting%20boot%20camp.htm

And feel free to pass this along to anyone else you think might be interested with my thanks!

Delilah Devlin

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author & Freelance Editor

Get in bed with Delilah. Everyone else has!

A Glance Back at July & a Look Toward August!

I can’t believe another month has flown by! The first week of July was so totally fun and refreshing! I spent it at a retreat with some author friends of mine, and while my page count wasn’t huge, it was worth it just to be with other authors who “get” how strange this calling is.

I’m ending the month feeling odd. I’m tiring fast. My head feels heavy. My thoughts are hard to corral. I’m sure it’s the stupid heat. As much as I love the summer because I love to swim, I’m ready for cooler weather. I’m housebound for most of the day because I just melt when I step outside.

Anyways, I just wanted to jump onto my blog to remind you about the stories I’ve released this month—two brand new, two refurbished treasures, plus a collection I’m proud to be a part of.

The refurbs of Lone Star Lovers will end in August. No new stories have been written, but then again, that depends on what you might like to see me do next. Are you ready for more lusty, sharing Texas men? I’m thinking about writing a story about step-siblings inside a ranching family, finally taking the plunge. What do you think? Or how about a crossover between my Uncharted SEALs and Lone Stars, with a SEAL who returns, knowing his former lover is married to his best friend… Let me know!

New in July!

Happy Ever After for a SEAL and a bounty hunter requires true dedication…

A former military dog handler, now Montana bounty hunter, Jamie Burke’s still trying to adjust to life with a live-in boyfriend. With a testy personality, Jamie’s circle of friends is very small, and includes one very loyal canine best friend. Which is how she likes it. She also likes uncomplicated, but her feelings for her boyfriend, Sky Reynolds, are anything but simple.

With ex-SEAL Sky away on a weeks-long mission, she jumps at the chance to work with the Charter Group again, happy to do anything to keep her too busy to worry about him. She heads to Mexico with her dog Tessa to be part of a team working to discover the whereabouts of a cache of weapons stolen from the Army. She’s thrilled when Sky meets her at the airport.

However, Sky’s not happy Jamie’s in the middle of this op. Having nearly lost her months before, he’s going to stick close. Not a tough job it turns out, since they’re staking out a beachside mansion from the mansion next door. Things heat up as they reconnect, but Jamie and Sky both worry about their future, until a cartel arms dealer arrives and bigger worries mount…

Get your copy here!

* * * * *

Sometimes a cowboy needs a little help—or three brothers—to snare a wife…

Sam Logan’s boys have a bad rep in Two Mule, Texas. Most of it earned. When it becomes clear his foster sons won’t settle down without a nudge from him, he issues his challenge. Find a wife…

The oldest, Johnny, already had his eye on Mean Ellie Harker. Sam’s challenge just gave him the gumption to ask her out. However, before he makes his move, the twins kidnap Ellie from under his nose. Now, he has to compete with three brothers for the woman he wants.

Ellie thought her prospects were drying up until Johnny Logan finally untangled his tongue and asked her out. When his brothers kidnap her and take her to the ranch, she’s furious…then intrigued by the thought of four men bent on showing her what being their’s would be like.

Get your copy here!

* * * * *

In On Fire, today’s top erotic romance authors don’t skimp on love or lust–they are entwined in tales that will make pulses pound and hearts race. Bestselling editor Rachel Kramer Bussel takes us inside the passions of couples who go above and beyond in their pursuit of sexual and romantic satisfaction, exploring the racy to the outrageous during their many arousing adventures. You’ll treasure the sex toy exploration in “Every Second of It,” find paranormal pleasure in “Masquerade,” and be transported to “A Place As Beautiful As This.” You’ll go “Beyond the Blindfold,” find out what lurks in the “Art of Darkness,” and delight in discovering “The Sweetest Thing.” These steamy stories by Kristina Wright, Delilah Devlin, Giselle Renarde, Kay Jaybee, Victoria Blisse, Jade A. Waters and others are perfect intimate reads to enjoy with your lover or for your own pleasure.

Get your copy here!

* * * * *

Sophie Keaton’s love life is a disaster. Too busy with her art gallery and weekends spent with the Army National Guard, she rarely has time for a date. Her orderly existence takes a twist when her Army National Guard unit gets a new Company Commander, Captain Gage Jenkins, who dislikes the idea of women in the Army, particularly her, and proceeds to make her weekend drill miserable. To bolster her self-esteem, Sophie finally takes her love life in hand and goes out on a date. Unfortunately, her date ends up in the emergency room with an allergic reaction to her cat. Her mooch of a brother, Bryce, feels sorry for her and offers to take her out to pick the “perfect man”. When she finds Mr. Perfect, she spends a passionate night with him, but awakens to discover that Mr. Perfect is none other than her new commanding officer!

As a member of the Texas Billionaire’s club, Gage has watched every one of his college buddies tie the knot. Although he’d met every challenge the group set in the early days, he resisted the last one—finding the perfect wife. Now, with his hands full expanding his construction business and whipping his new Army Guard command into shape, he has plenty of excuses to avoid that particular commitment. However, when he moves next door to one very attractive, very sexy woman, he finds himself deliciously distracted. When he discovers that woman is the same klutzy lieutenant he’s been dogging from day one, he’s not angry. He’s amused. And intrigued.

When the pair are challenged by their warring pets and matchmaking sergeants, the rules of Love and War get complicated…

Get your copy here!

* * * * *

Two bad boy cowboys need a little tutoring to learn how to love…

Fathers know to keep their daughters close whenever Sam Logan’s twin sons come to town. Those two hell-raisers have a bad rep in Two Mule, Texas. All of it earned. When it becomes clear his youngest sons won’t settle down without another nudge, Sam reissues his challenge. Find a wife…

There’s only been one woman who could hold their attention for more than one night, but she’s been out of reach. Their former teacher’s a little too worried about a pesky morals clause to let them close. But they’re older now and ready to prove to her that sometimes rules are meant to be broken…

Molly Pritchet thinks her path is predetermined: to always be a child’s teacher, never a mother or a wife. Until the two boys who tempted her way back when crash back into her life. Overwhelmed by yearnings she’s long suppressed, she’s swept along on a tide of forbidden desires.

Get your copy here!

Coming in August!

I have four releases planned for August, but I’m still waiting on the cover for one, so for now, feast your eyes on these three! If you’ve been waiting on a glimpse of the other polyamorous relationships in Two Mule, there’s a sweet scene at the end of Family Values…  You can click on Reined In and Family Values and pre-order those two. I’m not done writing With His SEAL Team, Part 5 just yet. But hint: Mom and Dad are coming for a visit!

  

N.J. Walters: No Man is an Island

We’ve all heard at least part of the famous quote by John Donne, a English clergyman and poet who lived from 1573-1631.

“No man is an Island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the Continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were; any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.”

My drakons tend to want to be islands onto themselves. Ezra, the hero of Drakon’s Plunder, even owns a private island where he lives by himself. Being an introvert, I get that. I’m often happier by myself reading, writing, walking, and doing whatever it is a do in the run of a day. But even being an introvert, I know it’s impossible to live in the world without ties. We all have family or friends we’re close too. Maybe not many, but there are those people who have a profound affect on our lives every day.

Sometimes the people who touch our lives aren’t those we’ve actually met. The words of an author can move or inspire us. A painter or artist can create a work that makes us feel some deep emotion or even question the world we live in. An actor or actress on television or the big screen may bring to life a story that stirs us in some unfathomable way. Or perhaps we hear a news account or witness a world event that forever changes us.

The point is, all of us are in this journey called life together. And even a reclusive drakon had ties to the world. (And since he’s been around for about 4000 years, maybe he even met John Donne.)

Drakon’s Plunder

Blood of the Drakon, Book 3

Life is not going well for archaeologist Sam Bellamy. She’s stuck in the middle of the ocean on a salvage boat with people who want her dead. It wasn’t her gift for being able to sense objects of power that got her here, rather her need to make a secret society called the Knights of the Dragon pay for killing her mentor. Sam doesn’t believe in dragons, but the Knights do, and if she can get one of the sacred artifacts they’re searching for away from them, she’ll consider it payback.

Ezra Easton is content to run his marine salvage company and live alone on his private island. He may be a four-thousand-year-old water drakon, but he’s civilized enough to know just because he pulls an injured woman from the ocean, doesn’t mean he gets to keep her…

When she wakes up, she has a few tall tales to share, and it seems the Knights are after her. But this drakon won’t give up his treasure.

BUY LINKS:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B072KF3JVT

Entangled: https://entangledpublishing.com/drakon-s-plunder.html

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/drakons-plunder-nj-walters/1126552516?ean=9781640631724

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/drakons-plunder/id1247580768

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/drakon-s-plunder

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B072KF3JVT

About the Author

N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.

Visit me at:

Website: http://www.njwalters.com

Blog: http://www.njwalters.blogspot.com

Newsletter Group: https://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/awakeningdesires/info

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/N.J.WaltersAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/njwaltersauthor

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/NJWalters

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/njwalters

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/n-j-walters

Must Love Cowboys! (Contest)

In Two Mule, Texas there’s something in the water. When men desire the same woman, they don’t fight each other for the right to be hers. They share.

My latest “new” release is Two Wild for Teacher, the sixth book in a series about this odd little town. I love this story, not just because this continues the story of the Logan brothers, who are sexy as hell, but because of their daddy, Sam, who’s missing the love of his life…

I promise, there will be smiles, sighs, and maybe a tear at the end!

Two Wild is the 6th book in the series, but the only story you have to read before this one is Four-Gone Conclusion, because that’s where I introduced the Logan boys and their father Sam.

If you’re curious about the rest, just click on the covers!

  

  

Contest

For a chance to win one of the stories in the array of 6 stories above (not Two Wild!), answer me this:

What one feature (eyes, butt, hair, etc.) draws your eye first when you’re meeting someone you think you might consider as a romantic partner?

 

Two Wild For Teacher

Two bad boy cowboys need a little tutoring to learn how to love…

Fathers know to keep their daughters close whenever Sam Logan’s twin sons come to town. Those two hell-raisers have a bad rep in Two Mule, Texas. All of it earned. When it becomes clear his youngest sons won’t settle down without another nudge, Sam reissues his challenge. Find a wife…

There’s only been one woman who could hold their attention for more than one night, but she’s been out of reach. Their former teacher’s a little too worried about a pesky morals clause to let them close. But they’re older now and ready to prove to her that sometimes rules are meant to be broken…

Molly Pritchet thinks her path is predetermined: to always be a child’s teacher, never a mother or a wife. Until the two boys who tempted her way back when crash back into her life. Overwhelmed by yearnings she’s long suppressed, she’s swept along on a tide of forbidden desires.

Get your copy here!

Excerpt from Two Wild for Teacher…

Sam Logan couldn’t sleep. He had one last chore to take care of. One he’d been putting off. No time like now to get ’er done.

He walked softly on bare feet down the long hallway, past the master bedroom he’d given up when Johnny married Ellie and moved both his new wife and his brother Killian into the large room to share it. He shook his head, a glimmer of a smile tugging at his mouth. Sounds that hadn’t been heard in this old house in over three long years echoed up and down the hallway.

Sexy sounds—happy sighs and laughter, slick slaps, an occasional yelp from Ellie. He could only imagine what his two oldest boys were doing to the girl. But they all seemed happy with the arrangement, and both men were gaga for Mean Ellie Harker. Who would have thought one simple pronouncement would produce such lightning-fast results?

It’s time you boys found yerselves a wife.

That’s all it had taken. Sam had disappeared for a long weekend to attend a cattle auction and give them time to think about what he’d said about what was missing from all their lives, only to return and find all four men looking as though they’d been wrung through a wringer and put up wet.

His sons hadn’t told him everything, but he’d heard the rumors—from Ole Win at the diner, who’d witnessed how the oldest two had swarmed Ellie like bees around a hive, and then from Wade Luckadoo, whose daughter had witnessed Ellie’s kidnapping by the twins but for some inexplicable reason hadn’t called the sheriff.

So, they hadn’t wooed Ellie in a traditional way. Didn’t much matter to Sam. A pretty woman stood in the kitchen every morning, a happy smile on her face, and all the boys had perked up, falling over themselves to please her.

These days, meals were an event. Ellie had been running the town’s only diner and knew how to cook a mean chili, sear steaks to perfection, and bake glorious pies.

The pies had become a bit of a joke in the house over the last month.

Ellie had figured out right off that Johnny loved apple pie. However, Killian wouldn’t commit, sampling the varieties she lined up on the counter every Sunday and sighing, but never telling her which one was his favorite.

Sam thought he knew why.

Killian wasn’t sure about his place in Ellie’s heart. She’d melted first for Johnny, but had accepted Killian in her bed, too, and even told him often that she loved him. Killian only half believed her, and given his upbringing, living in a house with two people who’d hated each other’s guts and whose anger had spilled over onto him, Sam understood why Killian had doubts anyone could love him.

Ellie’s unending search for the perfect pie to please Killian was her way of proving she loved him. From the way his second adopted son beamed each time Ellie introduced a new set to sample, Sam didn’t think Killian would ever tell her which pie he loved most.

Pie was taking on mystical properties, a true elixir of love in every bite. And pie was what the twins, the youngest of his brood, huddled over now.

A single light shining from the stove was all that lit the kitchen. The boys sat, bleary-eyed, blond heads in need of a good haircut and a comb, with elbows propping up their chins while they shoveled sweet pie into their mouths.

Sam crept in silently, opened a cabinet door and gave it a good slam.

Both boys jumped, startled stares swinging his way.

Mace gave Sam a tired grin. “Hey, Pa.”

Sam never tired of hearing that. The two older boys still called him Sam. The twins had been eager to accept him and Gracie as their parents when they’d first arrived for fostering. Something Gracie had loved as well. She’d always wanted to be someone’s mama. He felt a pinch in his chest at how happy she’d been—all the way to the end—surrounded by her boys. “Why aren’t you two in bed?” he snapped, his voice gruff. “You’ll be fallin’ off your horses tomorrow.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Mace grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“Why’s that?” Sam asked, although he had a pretty good idea why.

Mace grunted. “Too much damn noise. People gettin’ happy. Wish’t I was that damn happy.” He lifted his fork and turned to take another bite.

Sam came closer and peered over Mace’s shoulder. “That the cherry pie?”

“Mmm-hmm,” the younger twin groaned. “S’good.”

Sam arched a brow. “Think we should tell Ellie that Killian’s not a pie man?”

Both boys’ heads jerked up, eyes rounding.

“Hell, no!” Jason said around a mouthful of peach pie. “She might stop bakin’.”

“We’d still get lots of apple,” Sam said with a dry chuckle. “Girl wears herself out tryin’ to please y’all.”

“That ain’t what has her all wore out,” Jason muttered, then grimaced from the audible whack his brother gave his leg.

“You know,” Sam said, “there’s a simple solution to your problem…”

“Earplugs?” Mace quipped.

Sam shook his head. “Seems all y’all need is a little somethin’ to keep your minds off what you’ve got no business hearin’.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed. “I know what you’re gonna say. We need to find ourselves a wife.”

“A wife?” Mace murmured, his mouth stretching into a wide grin.

Both boys shared a glance then dipped their heads to continue milling into their pie. In that one glance, they seemed to share the same thought. And maybe they did. No two boys could be closer.

Men, Sam amended in his mind. They weren’t scrawny teenagers anymore. A woman, a good woman, would have herself a fine husband—if they could ever decide which would marry her.

“Strange times we live in,” Sam murmured, thinking about how the town was changing. Multiple men taking up with a single woman. He’d never have imagined it, but then, for him, there had only been Gracie. And she’d had eyes only for him.

On that melancholy note, he turned. Pie wasn’t going to satisfy his yearning. Sleep, a chance to dream about a golden-haired girl with freckles on her nose—that’s what he needed. “I’ll say good night. My job’s done. ’Night, boys.”

 

Jason turned his head to watch Sam leave the room, not liking the hint of sadness he’d seen in Sam’s eyes before he’d turned away. They all missed Gracie Logan, but none more than Sam. “Think he’s really okay with how things worked out for Johnny and Killian?”

“He hasn’t said a word about them holing up in the same damn bedroom. Don’t think he cares so long as everyone’s happy. Why you ask?”

“Don’t know. Sometimes, he gets a look.”

Mace nodded. “Know the one you’re talkin’ about, but I think it’s ’cause he’s missin’ Mom.”

Jason pushed away his empty plate and sighed. “Only thing’s gonna make him happy again is when we all start makin’ babies.”

Mace grimaced. “Think we don’t get any sleep now…” He shrugged. “It’s not like Johnny and Killian aren’t doin’ their best on that end. Still, Pa’s not gonna rest easy ’til we find a woman, too.”

“A woman?” Jason said, reminding his brother how Mace’s sly joke had started the ball rolling with Ellie. They’d been teasing Sam and had irked the hell out of Johnny, who’d taken Sam’s pronouncement as marching orders and didn’t like them making light of it. Jason felt responsible for how things had worked out. Johnny might never have considered sharing a woman with Killian if Mace hadn’t first planted that seed. Not that both Johnny and Killian didn’t appear satisfied with the arrangement. Still, it was his job to curb Mace’s wildness. He was the oldest. Little brother needed to get serious about this business of finding a wife.

Mace shrugged. “Be easier havin’ just one woman. Less yap. And we’ve got lots of practice sharin’.” He picked up his glass of milk and downed it in a couple of big gulps.

Jason knew Mace would prefer to drop the subject of the marrying part. The thought of taking a wife and starting a family made both of them feel itchy. Until they’d come to the Doubletree Ranch, they’d never known what a loving family could be like. Who knew whether they would follow their birth parents’ sorry footsteps rather than Sam and Gracie Logan’s? But Sam expected them to man up and give it a try. “How the hell we gonna find ourselves a woman?” he said aloud, although he didn’t really expect Mace to have the answer. He wasn’t the thinker. “We can’t settle on one for a whole weekend—how we gonna settle on one for the rest of our lives?”

Mace nodded. Then his blue eyes glinted, narrowed. He sat forward in his chair. “There’s only been one woman we ever wanted for longer than a day.”

Jason had an instant image of soft brown hair pulled back into a messy bun, dark-rimmed glasses perched on a pretty, slender nose, green eyes peering over the tops. He and his brother had fantasized about her for years. “She’s a pretty thing, but doesn’t even know it.”

“I like the way her eyes bug when she’s mad. She doesn’t like losin’ it.” Mace’s grin said he couldn’t wait to push her to the edge.

A smile twitched the corners of Jason’s mouth. Wouldn’t she be appalled to see them again? The thought didn’t dampen his enthusiasm one bit. On the contrary, just the idea of pursuing pretty Molly Pritchet caused heat to fill his loins. “We ain’t jailbait anymore,” he drawled.

“No, we ain’t.”

Both men shared wicked grins as they let the thought of what it might be like to seduce Miss Pritchet blossom.

“School’s out tomorrow,” Mace murmured.

Jason gave a firm nod. “She’s gonna have time on her hands. A whole summer’s worth.”

Both men scooted closer to the table, pie forgotten, and made their plan.

 

As she adjusted her burden in her arms again, Molly Pritchet wished she’d driven. She was hot, starting to sweat, and the muscles in her arms were beginning to burn with the weight of her box of personal items she’d emptied from her desk. Earlier, traces of roses and honeysuckle scenting the warm air had drawn her from her house, enticing her to get ready to embrace the last day of school and the start of her plans for a summer of blessed solitude, free of responsibility. That morning, she hadn’t wanted to think about anything but the pretty day, the flowers she’d purchased to set into their beds, and the small, decorative pond she wanted to install in her backyard.

Besides, walking to and from the little high school was the only real exercise she ever got.

With every passing year, she fought a little harder to keep padding from settling on her rear and upper thighs. So, she walked, getting more of a workout than she’d planned, but enjoying the sounds of lawnmowers growling, birds chirping, and children playing.

Lord, she loved the sounds of children. Not something that had changed over the eight years she’d been teaching. And it was a true joy to meet up with graduates who remembered her and stopped by to tell her about their lives, and how she’d touched them.

She might never have her own, but there were plenty of children she’d helped raise in her own limited capacity.

The sound of footsteps on the sidewalk—heavy tread, a little hollow—men’s booted heels, came from behind her, and she edged to the side to let whomever was approaching pass.

However, the steps slowed, and before she knew it, she had a man at each elbow.

Her breath caught when she recognized them. “Mason, Jason,” she said, hoping they’d take her reddening cheeks for exertion, not delight. She’d always had the most inappropriate thoughts where these two were concerned.

Some things never changed. They both looked so handsome and tall—shaggy blond hair curling beneath the brims of their straw cowboy hats, matching blue work shirts—nicely ironed—and dark Wranglers that molded to powerful thighs. The only notable difference in their appearance was their boots. Mace Logan’s boots were saddle-brown leather while Jason’s were black. She didn’t need visual clues to keep the two of them straight. Unlike most folks in Two Mule, she’d always been able to tell them apart. Mace had a lazy smile that invited a woman to linger. Jason was a tad sharper, with a keen glance that had burned right through more than one woman’s defenses, or so she’d heard.

Good Lord, she’d just checked them out, and from Mace’s slow grin and Jason’s razor gaze, they both knew it.

Two sets of blue eyes glinted with humor.

“Howdy, Miz Pritchet,” Jason said, his smile wide, perfect white teeth gleaming.

Mace cleared his throat, drawing her attention. Before she had a chance to sink into his brilliant blues, he reached out his arms. “Let me take that box for you.”

“No need,” she said, wheezing a bit because she couldn’t manage a deep breath with both of them towering over her. “I need the exercise. Home’s not far.” She knew her voice was a little shrill, but she couldn’t help it. She needed them gone before her cheeks heated until they were as purple as sugar beets, and she really started to sweat.

The Logan boys, these particular two, were trouble with a capital T. Any sensible woman would steer well clear of them. A teacher with a pesky morals clause in her contract had even more to worry about. “I swear I can manage this box on my own. Always have.”

Mace gave her a crooked smile. “Didn’t say you couldn’t manage it on your own, ma’am. But why deprive us of a chance to do a good deed?”

Stiffening her spine, she gave him her best “teachery” steel-eyed glance. “You’re here to do a good deed? Why do I suddenly feel like an old lady a Boy Scout’s about to help cross the road?”

“Oh, you’re not old, Miz Pritchet, and we’re not Boy Scouts,” Jason piped in, probably to get her flustered because she had to look left and right to hold this conversation. Her foot stumbled on a rock, and she fell forward.

Hands reached to grab the box, another slipped around her middle.

Breathless and embarrassed, she let go and tried to straighten away from a hot palm that branded her lower back.

Jason bent toward her while Mace juggled the box. “I know you’re a little flustered, but if you’d quit fightin’ us, this’d be over so much quicker,” Jason whispered then gave her a wink.

Molly gulped, cheeks aflame, but she gave a terse nod and lifted her chin. “Your hand is no longer needed,” she said, her voice clipped.

“Fair enough,” he said with a wicked waggle of his eyebrows, slowly sliding his hot palm away.

Pushing her dark-rimmed glasses up her nose, she backed up one pace, then whirled on her heel and stepped out again, leaving both men to follow in her wake. “Well, seeing as how you were both so insistent…” she threw over her shoulder, “…don’t dawdle!” She picked up her pace, arms swinging, angry with both of them, angry with herself for letting them get under her skin.

It was just like her first year teaching. She’d been fresh out of college, eager to take command of her first classroom, and both Logan boys had landed in hers. They hadn’t lingered in the back like most of the football players—no, they’d taken seats at the front. Their handsome faces had greeted her with smiles and compliments every morning. She’d begun every day gritting her teeth, because she couldn’t suppress the heat in her cheeks or the breathless hitch in her voice that their attentions brought. Back then, they’d been beautiful young men, horny and popular with the girls—not so much with the girls’ parents, because they could tempt an angel into parting with her wings. They’d turned their considerable charms on Molly, making the ninety minutes they’d shared a constant trial on her nerves.

No doubt, they’d done it on purpose, to test the new teacher. She had never been so glad to have a semester end.

Still, until they’d graduated, she’d had to endure seeing them in the hallways, knowing their interested stares followed her. She’d dressed as frumpily as she could bear, foresworn makeup, all to discourage them.

They were just too handsome, too cheeky. And she’d been all too aware there weren’t that many years between them. Just five. Something the boys teased her about.

The last few months they’d been in school, they’d begun to drop hints that they’d like to see her—after they weren’t jailbait anymore, but she’d had better sense. Even though they likely had more experience than she did in the sex department, she was starkly aware of how a relationship with two former students would look. Despite their sly and charming efforts at tempting her, she’d remained firm.

Unfortunately, it seemed time hadn’t changed them a bit. They may have left boyhood firmly behind, but they still liked to tease her to the point of exasperation.

And Lord, she wished she hadn’t noticed they weren’t boys anymore. Both were tall, and their rangy frames had filled out nicely. Any woman they passed couldn’t help but pause and watch, be she ten or a hundred. They knew their attraction and took full advantage of it. She’d heard the rumors of their sexual exploits. Apart, together—they only had to give a girl a sly wink to have her sidling their way. Then it didn’t take more than a sexy smile to have her panties around her ankles—an image which shocked Molly because it came so readily to mind.

No, she was not imagining that girl was her. How ridiculous would that be? Her, standing in broad daylight with lacy pink panties pooled around her feet.

And yet, what made it so real, so tempting, was that she knew if she wanted it, all she had to do was signal them with a crook of her finger. One lazy summer afternoon spent between the sheets with the Logans might just get the yearning out of her system.

The thought lodged tightly inside her head. But then another, of her getting naked with two perfect specimens of manhood, splashed cold water all over the dream.

She could never stand to be just another one of their conquests—even if they only intended to tease. They couldn’t be seriously thinking about doing anything more. They had their pick among the female population. She wasn’t the prettiest or the shapeliest. Sure, she was smart, but men like the Logan twins didn’t prize a high IQ. What they wanted was a woman with a single-word vocabulary.

So, why did the word yes feel as though it sat perched on the tip of her tongue, ready to take flight? Was it because she didn’t have a boyfriend or plans for a romantic summer? Until that moment, she’d been happy about that fact.

Molly’s house loomed in the distance, and she sped up again, trying not to think about what they might be looking at. Her butt might be a little soft, but there was muscle underneath. She lifted her arms and power-walked the rest of the way home.

Linda O’Connor: Tropical Tryst

After publishing six books in the Perfectly Series, my next goal was to be part of a boxed set. In May 2017, I joined the Tropical Tryst Boxed Set managed by Nicole Morgan of Romance Collections. Boxed sets can have different goals like exposure to new readers or aiming to make a best-sellers list, but what I’ve enjoyed most about being in a boxed set with 24 other authors is learning about different marketing strategies.

What’s cool is that each author seems to have a “go-to” method to promote. One author posts to 25 different Facebook groups twice a week, another writes tweets and Facebook posts. Some of the authors have made cool graphics and videos incorporating all the covers in the set. Other authors have made HeadTalker campaigns, which are group tweets and FB posts. Someone started a Tropical Tryst Instagram account, someone set up a newsletter swap, and someone else organized Tropical Tryst swag giveaways. I planned a mini blog hop, and we’ll be guests on over thirty different websites including USA Today HEA – all for free (that’s my specialty :D). I love sharing marketing and promotion efforts with other authors. Writing is usually pretty solitary but being in a boxed set creates a really fun camaraderie.

The Tropical Tryst Boxed Set features 25 brand new sexy romances set in hot and tropical settings. Escape with us for only 99 cents. It’s available for pre-order now and will be released Aug. 1. Can’t wait to share Perfectly Skeptical, a Perfectly Series novella, with you!

About Perfectly Skeptical (Perfectly Series novella)

Dr. Brianna Scott looked forward to sleeping away her staycation, until a windfall meant an upgrade to palm trees, an ocean view . . . and the sexy Dr. Matt Gaelen. She’ll have fun, but can a holiday fling really turn into a soul mate for life? Doubtful.

Matt has no radar for sniffing out gold-diggers and protecting his heart. Except Brianna is more turned off than turned on by his wealth. What are his chances of getting her to overlook it? Dubious at best.

Improbable and iffy – the typical path to love.

Buy links:

Amazon:

https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0713MQ2TP/

Barnes and Noble:

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/tropi...

Kobo:

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/tropical-tryst

Google Play:

https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Nicole_Morgan_Tropical_Tryst?id=kOO4DgAAQBAJ

Where to find the author…

Linda loves to connect with readers ~

Website:

http://www.lindaoconnor.net

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/LindaOConnorAuthor

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/LindaOConnor98

Amazon Author Page:

http://www.amazon.com/Linda-OConnor/e/B00S7CNLEA

Blog:

http://www.lindaoconnor.net/news-muse-and-interviews/

Visit www.tropicaltryst.com for special pre-order giveaways and join the Tropical Tryst Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/groups/Tropi...) for updates and a chance to win Tropical Tryst swag!