Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 353

Charlie Cochrane: Don’t Kiss the Vicar

Have you ever stopped to think about that parallel universe where the books you read are set? I’m not referring to science fiction or fantasy titles. What I had in mind was cozy mysteries, romances, all sorts of genre fiction that’s apparently set in the world we inhabit but, when you inspect it closely, it’s a case of “it may be the earth but it’s not as we know it”. Jasper FForde  famously plays with the whole oddity of book characters in his Thursday Next series, but that really is set in an alternative Britain so doesn’t quite count for the purpose of this blog, no matter how amusing the premise is. Except that he makes a running joke of the fact that his characters don’t do ordinary things like use the toilet or have breakfast, because characters in books hardly ever are seen to perform these everyday activities.

Now clearly there is an element of judicious editing that goes on for stories, because the reader really doesn’t want to see every aspect of the leading man’s day, do they? And if it isn’t relevant to the plot then we don’t need, for example, a description of how he drives to the supermarket and what he sees en route. Nor do we really want all the graphic details of that handsome Regency buck performing his morning wash and brush up because he probably wouldn’t pass muster for our twenty-first century noses.

But I do get frustrated, as a reader or viewer, when basic human needs are treated as though they don’t exist. No, I don’t want the minutiae of what goes on when that hostage tied up in the small garden shed or wherever has a desperate need to pee, but it might be nice to have, at least in passing, an acknowledgment that such a need exists.

Do we as readers/viewers have to suspend all disbelief? Like with that Regency buck, who wouldn’t have been in life as clean-looking nor as fragrant smelling as we assume Colin Firth was in his guise as Mr. Darcy. We certainly have to take a lot of things with a pinch of salt in the realm of mysteries, where the home counties of England seem to be the crime centre of the universe. There is a multiple murder every few weeks in the books and shows based on the Morse/Lewis franchise. If that were real life, nobody would allow their son or daughter to study at Oxford University and you’d surely never be able to get life insurance if you lived in the city.

In the real world, Sussex is not awash with mass murderers, little old ladies don’t solve crimes which have baffled the police, and princes don’t disguise themselves as dustbin men then court and marry shop assistants (even if I could name a real live prince who used to sometimes get his sandwiches at a garage). All of which is a shame, really. Some aspects of the fiction parallel universe seem extremely appealing!

Don’t Kiss the Vicar

Vicar Dan Miller is firmly in the closet in his new parish. Could the inhabitants of a sedate Hampshire village ever accept a gay priest? Trickier than that, how can he hide his attraction for one of his flock, Steve Dexter?

Encouraged by his ex-partner to seize the day, Dan determines to tell Steve how he feels, only to discover that Steve’s been getting poison pen letters and suspicion falls on his fellow parishioners. When compassion leads to passion, they have to conceal their budding relationship, but the arrival of more letters sends Dan scuttling back into the closet.

Can they run the letter writer to ground? More importantly, can they patch up their romance and will Steve ever get to kiss the vicar again?

link: http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com/9781626394933e.html

About the Author

As Charlie Cochrane couldn’t be trusted to do any of her jobs of choice—like managing a rugby team—she writes. Her favourite genre is gay fiction, sometimes historical (sometimes hysterical) and usually with a mystery thrown into the mix.

She’s a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association, Mystery People, and International Thriller Writers Inc., with titles published by Carina, Samhain, Bold Strokes Books, Lethe, MLR, and Riptide. She regularly appears with The Deadly Dames.

To sign up for her newsletter, email her at email hidden; JavaScript is required, or catch her at:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/charlie.cochrane.18

Twitter: http://twitter.com/charliecochrane

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2727135.Charlie_Cochrane

Blogs: http://charliecochrane.livejournal.com

and https://charliecochrane.wordpress.com/

Website: http://www.charliecochrane.co.uk

Yvonne Doll: Refined by Fire

What was it like to be a woman Army officer and West Point cadet in a male dominated environment in the 1970s? Find out by reading Refined by Fire and Trailblazers, two historical fiction books by Ruth VanDyke and Yvonne Doll.

Book 1: Refined by Fire:

Book 2: Trailblazers

YouTube link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rh11Gcpimoo

Except from Trailblazers:

Anne leaned forward a bit as Maura resumed in a reflective, quiet tone, “He told me he had some sparkling mineral water and nuts in his room and a nice balcony with two chairs and a small table we could sit at. I told him that sounded wonderful. We were no sooner in the room when Eric reached over to touch my face and kiss me.” Smiling contentedly, Maura whispered, “I just felt like I was floating on a cloud. He picked me up, laid me on the bed.” Blushing, Maura paused, “Eric ran his fingers through my hair, told me how much he wanted me and asked if I wanted to get undressed myself or have him undress me. That’s when it hit me, and I freaked out a bit.”

“What happened?” Anne asked a bit tersely.

“Well, I hate to admit it, but I started shaking and couldn’t find my voice. He was so sweet and concerned. He asked me what was wrong and I told him that I wanted him very much, but I was really scared.”

Anne realized later that she had bitten her lip in an effort to not scream at Maura for dragging the story out, but managed to stay silent and appear nonchalant as Maura haltingly continued.

“He was so sweet and confused and asked me what he had done to scare me. That’s when I burst into tears and told him, it was nothing he had done. I was just nervous, because this was my first time and I wasn’t really sure what to do.” Maura giggled quietly at the reminiscence of Eric’s reaction to her announcement that this was her first time.

“You’re killin’ me Maura! Did you guys do it?” she asked bluntly.

“Yes, eventually,” Maura giggled again.

Throwing her arms up in mock surrender, Anne said, “Okay, I don’t need every detail, but could you please put me out of my misery and finish this story?”

Maura chuckled quietly, “Sorry I don’t remember all the details, but my confession obviously surprised, no, shocked him. He said something like, ‘Oh shit, no!’ I just nodded yes and he got up from the bed, walked over to the small cabinet that had the mineral water and a bottle of scotch, and took a huge gulp of Scotch directly from the bottle.”

Anne was leaning forward again, listening intently as Maura quietly continued.

“He turned around and told me he was sorry. He didn’t realize I was a virgin and told me to get off the bed, and he’d take me to my room.”

“Oh Maura!” Anne said in a hushed, tone of voice.

Maura nodded, “Oh it gets worse.” Maura was now emotionally ready to share the highly charged atmosphere that night. “I burst into tears and told him I didn’t want him to take me to my room, that I knew he was a big playboy and I wasn’t making any demands on him, but had already decided that I wanted him to be the first.”

Anne didn’t quite know what to say at this point, so she just sat there until Maura resumed her tale.

Love a good puzzle? Come play!

You tried to move the pieces on the picture, right? LOL

Today’s scheduled guest is a no-show, so you’re stuck with little ole me again. I found a very cool website recently when I was brainstorming fun things to do here. Do you like jigsaw puzzles? This one’s not terribly hard! Just click on the cover-button below to give it a whirl, then hit the back button to come back and enjoy a scene from the book!

[image error]35 [image error] DreamofMe

An excerpt from the story featured in the puzzle…

When the moon was high above them, Sam and Ash said their farewells and he held open the Warricks’ gate, letting Ash pass. The scent of oranges followed her, and he drew a deep breath.

“I like your friends,” Ash said.

At her quiet words, Sam reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. But he didn’t let her go. And since she didn’t tug it away, he released a sigh. He liked the way this physical connection felt. Walking close together. Their fingers intertwined. When she leaned her head against his shoulder, he knew she let down her guard, and his chest swelled. Since he’d never brought a woman around his SEAL friends before, the moment felt bigger. Their approval of this woman only cemented the thought that she was The One. “They liked you,” he said softly.

“They had some pretty interesting stories about how they met their fellas. Suri said their connection was ‘insta-love’.”

“Danger has a way of bonding people in an instant.”

“Like you and your SEAL buddies.”

“Yeah.” The warm sand shifted beneath his feet as they approached the cottage.

She angled her head toward him. “Makes me almost wish for a firefight.” And then she laughed. “Sorry. I know how that sounds…like I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about.”

“I bet you have pretty good idea, Ash. I get what you’re saying. But you’re wrong. Maybe we don’t have drug runners on our tails, but you and I have something else pretty traumatic that’s drawing us together.” He tensed, waiting for her response.

“We have Marc,” she whispered. “You never said how he saved your life. But I’ll tell you the way he saved mine.”

Sam already knew the story, but he kept silent as she described responding to the robbery, the man hidden behind the door. From the tension in her voice, he knew the experience would forever haunt her.

“I think, all the time, that I shouldn’t have ducked. That I should have taken the shot. Maybe the bullet would have embedded in my vest. Maybe I would have pulled through.” She drew a deep, shuddering breath.

His gut twisted. She was guilt-ridden over her actions, reliving the moment over and over her mind, second-guessing her decision. Something he could relate to. But he knew how futile that was, and that she had nothing to feel guilty about. One of them would have died. The one left behind would forever be marked. He halted, turned, and drew her into his arms, cupping the back of her head to coax her to lean against his chest.

She was quiet, but her hot tears soaked the shoulder of his shirt. Slowly, her arms encircled him, and she leaned closer.

Skimming her skin through her thin dress with his hands, he gave her comfort while he learned the strength of her back, the sweet indent of her narrow waist. With her small, soft breasts pressed against his chest, he was content to stand on that spot, would have done so for hours just for the gift of holding her.

But she stirred and leaned back; her face tilted away. Moments later, her gaze met his, and he didn’t stop to think. He bent forward and sealed his mouth over hers.

What he’d intended was a chaste kiss, but her lips parted beneath his, opening herself to his touch. He groaned. The kiss deepened as each stroked the other’s tongue and their lips suctioned together. His cock slowly filled, and her belly rubbed against it.

Pulse racing, Sam broke the kiss. “Aislin?” He couldn’t put his question into words. Whatever she wanted of him, she’d have to take.

She swallowed. “Sam…” Her gaze dropped to his chest while her hands stroked his back. “I’d like…to be…with you.”

Sweet, sweet Ash. He closed his eyes and hugged her close again. “Whatever you need, sweetheart.”

“This isn’t about need,” she whispered. “I want…you.”

He cupped her cheek with one hand and slipped his thumb under her chin to lift her face. Her tears were gone now. Her glossy gaze was steady.

Taking a moment, he searched her expression, looking for any signs of hesitancy. He gave her a nod, and then stepped away, holding out his hand.

Smiling, she reached for it, and they held tight as they walked the rest of the way to her bungalow in silence.

Purchase Dream of Me

Flashback: The Triple Horn Brand (Contest)

Maybe you missed it. The series was short. Just a trilogy of stories about cowboys who never got over their first loves. That they were brothers and owned a ranch was just part of the fun. Two of the heroines were older than the cowboys. One was his high school sweetheart. Yes, I’m talking about those boys from the Triplehorn Ranch.

I’ve been thinking about summer for the past couple of weeks. Wish I had time for a short cruise somewhere hot, where I could soak up some rays, dip my toes in saltwater, and dispense with all these layers of clothing! Hell, I wish I could just hit the fast-forward switch and make it May so I could start using the pool!

I’m looking forward to swimming, and hopefully finding time to do it more than once a day! Are you looking forward to summer? If so, what are you wanting to do most?

Comment for a chance to win one of these stories!

  

From A Long, Hot Summer

One shared past. One weekend to make things right—and make it last forever.

The TripleHorn Brand, Book 3

Sarah Colby has never quite managed to shake off the emotional scars her ex-husband left behind. Nor has she been able to shed the shame of the one indiscretion that still haunts her memories.

When she asks the Triplehorn Ranch for help to move her cattle to an auction, the man they send has her working double-time to shore up the walls around her heart. He’s older now, harder—and hotter—but he’s the same Tommy Triplehorn she couldn’t resist all those years ago.

Tommy couldn’t be happier that his brothers have settled down, but he’s feeling a little smothered by all the domesticity. At the same time, carousing and drinking no longer appeal—and he thinks he knows why. Sarah Colby.

He’s waited too long for her to get over being ashamed of what they shared. He’s old enough to know what he wants. It’s her, and he’s going to use every second of their time together to dismantle her resistance. Even if he has to call in a little backup.

Warning: A cowboy on a mission to prove to the woman he loves that the only number that matters is the number of fantasies he’s willing to fulfill—even if it means sharing her for a night.

The kiss Tommy Triplehorn planted on Candy’s mouth made Sarah Colby’s mouth dry right up. She knew all too well how his kisses felt and couldn’t help the jealousy stirring up inside her as the couple walked down the sidewalk to a motel room door in plain view of every person inside the saloon.

The man had no shame. The red in his cheeks as he’d exited the bar had likely just been from the liquor he’d consumed.

Sarah tamped down the disappointment that soured her stomach and summoned a smile for the man she was meeting this night.

Blake Morrow was thick-shouldered and tall. A burly man with a booming voice. His wealth and standing in the community made him a very suitable suitor. The fact he already had children from a previous wife, was a relief to Sarah, who had resigned herself long ago to her barren state. Blake liked her and desired her property even more. He was honest about that, gently respectful of her intelligence by not trying to romance the Rocking C from under her as so many men had.

His gaze noted her blue jeans, and he arched a brow. “I take it we’re eating steaks here?”

She shrugged. “I ran into some problems before I could break away. No time to get dressed up.” She made no apology. Blake knew her responsibilities as a ranch owner came first.

“You still look beautiful,” he said, his tone gruff.

She appreciated the compliment and smiled, not wanting to read too deeply into anything he said. Surface congeniality, quiet respect. That was more than she was accustomed to. It would do.

Any stray thoughts of handsome cowboys like Tommy Triplehorn were consigned to her fantasy life, not her real life. The young rancher had been a mistake. One she’d regretted the instant she’d let him slip beneath her reserve. She’d felt alone, afraid for her future. She’d mistaken his rock-hard shoulder for maturity, his hot kisses for love. Eventually, she’d fallen from the clouds that had obscured her good sense and faced the cold hard truth. She was a plain woman, a natural woman. A barren, wealthy woman. The only things a man would ever want from her were what she owned and perhaps a bed partner. As sparsely populated as this section of Texas was, she had no illusions that convenience was on her side.

No, she’d learned a hard lesson all those years ago about what men wanted from wives. One she’d never forget. Her destiny wasn’t some fool’s gold of a lover’s promises.

Blake’s strong hand settled at the small of her back to guide her toward a table, something she couldn’t help flinching from. She didn’t need to be led. Didn’t need some big strong man showing her the way. But she kept silent. He was only doing what he’d been taught. He couldn’t know that the last time she’d been led, she’d been forced to submit. The action that left her cold, made her more reserved with men than other women might be.

Not that Blake seemed to notice as he smiled warmly across the table. “I’m surprised you accepted my invitation as many times as you’ve refused.”

She blinked, surprised he was getting straight to the point without any polite preliminaries. “You’ve been asking me for a while. I thought we should get to know each other.”

He nodded, the rugged face tightening just a little. “You know I want to court you.”

“I appreciate your candor,” she said softly. “I understand you have some expectations. I’m willing for us to explore a relationship.”

Good Lord, they sounded like the oil men who’d come to her ranch a few years back asking to sink a test well on her property.

Blake reached across the table and cupped her hand. Just a brief squeeze before he withdrew and flipped open the menu.

The waitress arrived. Relieved by the distraction, Sarah ordered a steak and salad. Blake ordered the same, adding shrimp and potatoes. She supposed such a large man would need the calories. Hopefully, he didn’t expect for her to let him finish her steak. She wasn’t some deskbound rancher. She rode the fences, supervised the movement of the cattle to fresher pastures, participated in the branding every spring. Every calorie she ate fueled her body, just like a man’s.

She forced herself to uncurl her fingers. What was she doing? Looking for problems? For judgment? Was she simply hoping to find a compelling reason to send Blake on his way like she’d done the past eight years with every other man who’d approached her since her husband’s untimely death?

Sarah forced herself to uncurl her hands in her lap. In any other situation she’d have been comfortable, in charge. But here, knowing Blake wanted to marry her, that he’d expect intimacies at some point, left her cold inside.

A damaged heroine in a romance novel, she certainly was not, but she had been tainted by a violent man. Left untrusting and wary. Glad for a long while for her self-imposed celibacy.

Pretending ease with the man sitting across from her seemed an insurmountable task. Who was she fooling? Sooner or later, he’d make a move and she wasn’t entirely sure who she’s react. Would she wouldn’t flinch or lean away. Or simply freeze in place.

The more she considered the idea of intimacy with this man, the more the knot in her stomach hurt. The last thing Blake wanted was problems. He had his life mapped out. He hadn’t looked any further than skin deep to determine she was his next move.

So although he’d be disappointed in the short term, she knew she couldn’t string him along with hopes she’d learn to deal with a husband in her life and bed. Before the salads arrived, Sarah made her apologies and quietly excused herself, leaving a befuddled Blake without a clue what he’d done wrong.

She headed straight to her car, hat in her hand, not looking around the dark parking lot. A scuff of gravel sounded, and she instantly regretted waving Blake back into his chair when he’d offered to walk her out. She cupped her keys, spreading her fingers around three to use as a weapon.

“You didn’t stay for dinner,” came a quiet voice behind her. Smooth as whiskey. Achingly sweet. Tommy Triplehorn.

She tossed back her hair and glanced over her shoulder. “You didn’t stay for whatever…”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “My taste buds must be off. She was too sweet. What’s your excuse?”

Sarah blew out a breath and turned, facing the young man who had plagued her thoughts since their long-ago affair—no intention whatsoever of answering his question. “You’re looking good, Tommy.” Lord, not the smart thing to say, but the plain unvarnished truth. Dark brown hair, worn short, thick shoulders and arms, thighs, heavily muscled… She darted her gaze back up before she exposed her fascination, only to linger on his handsome face. Age had carved maturity into his features, honed them to sharp-edged, masculine lines. He presented an arresting picture, although she did miss the old softness in his now piercing gaze.

A muscle along the edge of his jaw tightened. “When are you gonna face the truth, Sarah?”

She shook her head, swallowing down the hot lump that burned the back of her throat. “I have to go home,” she said hoarsely, turning and jamming her key into the lock, but scraping the paint on her car.

He stepped closer, pressing his body against her back and reached around to gently cup her hand until she released the keys. Then pushing long enough she felt the tension in his tall fame, he unlocked her door and dangled her key ring until she grabbed for it.

Tommy planted his hands on either side of her and nuzzled her hair. “Ever ask yourself why it is I can do this, move into your space, touch you, without you goin’ cold as a block of ice?”

“No.” She wasn’t lying. The last thing she wanted was to remember. She kept the memory of how they’d been together closely guarded, even from herself.

“Didn’t think so. Or you wouldn’t have let all this time pass, even though we both know you belong to me.”

She shook her head. “I don’t belong to you. There is no you and me. We’re all wrong, Tommy.”

His head nodded, rubbing her cheek. “Because I was too young. But sweetheart, age stopped bein’ a good enough reason when I stopped bein’ a teenager.”

“We should never have—“

“Not then. I know it was a mistake. For you, anyway. I have no regrets. But there’s no good reason now.”

He nuzzled the corner of her neck and her knees quivered. She had to be strong. Good Lord, what if someone saw them like this? “Look at me Tommy,” she said staring into the window glass at their two faces. “Look at us. That’s why we don’t belong together.”

Tommy’s brows lowered as he stared into his reflection. “I don’t understand what it is you see that I don’t. If it’s age, that’s not good enough, Sarah. Not anymore. I’m sick and tired of pretendin’ I don’t care.”

She turned inside his arms and met his gaze with a steady one of her own. “You should respect my wishes. I told you no eight years ago. I haven’t changed my mind.”

Tommy leaned away, dropped his head and stared at his clenched hands for a long moment. When he raised his head again, his gaze bored into hers.

The weight of that steady stare settled in her core, and she shivered beneath the raw intensity of his expression.

“Hear me now, Sarah Colby. I’m not givin’ up on us. Everywhere you go, I’ll be there. Waitin’ for you to come to your senses.”

She scoffed, while inside a traitorous part of her body rejoiced. “You sound like you intend to be my stalker.”

“If that’s what it takes to make you understand I’m serious…”

Sarah shivered, hearing the conviction in his deep voice, reading the icy resolve in his gray eyes. The tender cowboy she’d known years ago had been replaced by a man with dangerous edges.

She gripped the door handle behind her and tugged it open.

He caught the corner of the door, and swung it wider, gently handing her into the car. “You head straight home, Ms. Colby,” he said, amusement in his voice. “I’ll be right behind you.”

She got in, slammed the door, and hit the locks. Fear hadn’t triggered her reaction. Oh no. It was the flutter of arousal awakening inside her, so strong her body clenched. She needed to get away. Drive to the sanctuary of her home to reinforce her resolve.

As she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway, she couldn’t help darting glances at the rearview mirror. The lights of his truck was there. But he was hanging back at a safe distance. Christ, he’d been serious.

She’d known one day she’d have to reckon with her past. Her one shameful indiscretion had cost her more than a little self-respect. Tommy wasn’t to blame. She shouldered that burden all on her own. She’d been old enough to know better, but hadn’t wanted to resist because he’d been so earnest and heartbreakingly beautiful.

Stalled at the lowest ebb of her marriage, she’d been vulnerable, ready for a little tenderness, which he’d been so eager to provide. One touch and she hadn’t been able to resist another and another—until she’d cuckolded a dangerous man.

While that man was gone from her life for good, one fact hadn’t changed. Tommy Triplehorn was all wrong for her.

He was too young. Too handsome. And from a family that was rapidly expanding. So many children joining the ranks. Any woman who took him on would be expected to contribute to that expansion.

Her chest tightened, and she drew a deep breath to ease the tension making her fingers clench the steering wheel. She thought ahead, to the moment she pulled into her driveway and parked her car beside her house, knowing he wouldn’t leave without trying to convince her to see him.

The last thing she wanted was a confrontation outside where her foreman and any hands might hear. She’d have to invite him inside her home. The thought both frightened and excited her.

But she could do this. Ask him in for coffee. Putter around the kitchen to keep him from trying to continue what he’d started back in the Shooter’s parking lot. There she’d been so intensely aware of him. So needful of his touch.

Damn, eight years and nothing had changed. She dashed a tear from her face with the back of her hand and cursed her own lustful nature. Not something her husband had ever been able to tap into, because he hadn’t given a damn about what pleased her.

The tall gate post at the entrance to her private road loomed to the right. She slowed and signaled to turn, then drove onto the gravel drive, bumping over the cattle guard before heading straight to the house.

A glimpse in her mirror confirmed Tommy had been serious. His headlights bounced, then steadied, following her all the way up the hill.

Sarah breathed deep, calming breaths then let herself out of the car. She gave Tommy a wave and walked toward the porch, wanting to appear collected and needing a little distance and a few spare seconds to achieve that feat.

To her dismay, the quick clip of his boot heels matched the beat of her wayward heart. Seconds later, a hand cupped the small of her back, and he reached around her, hustling her inside the house and closing the door.

At the thrill of his touch, Sarah had the fleeting thought that Tommy Triplehorn might be all wrong for her, but her body was awfully happy he was here.

Nancy Corrigan: Love letter from Devin to Lena

Valentine’s Day might have passed, but love is still in the air. I have a love letter to share with you, from a damaged shifter to his true mate. Read on…

Dear Lena,

I wanted write you this letter because I have a hard time expressing my feelings. Yeah, I get that I don’t need to. With your soul bonded to mine, you know how I feel about you, but I’ve been told human females like these. So…here’s mine to you.

I don’t deserve you, Lena. I know what I am—a broken male who isn’t worthy of heaven. I’m crazy. A step away from being feral. Or maybe I am feral and just too stubborn to accept it. Either way, I didn’t live before you. I existed. I protected my loved ones. Guarded my twin. Fought for those who had nobody to help them. Those were my joys. I didn’t laugh. Didn’t smile. Why would I? I had nothing to be happy about or look forward to. That changed the moment I looked into your eyes and saw my sanity staring back at me.

Now, you’re my reason for living. Your scent, your touch, and your voice have tamed my wild nature, allowing me to experience happiness. You’ve gathered the shards of my shattered mind and built them up around you, giving me something to focus on besides my anger, and with you by my side, I’m whole. At peace. That’s something I never thought I’d find, but you accomplished it. You pulled me out of the darkness and brightened my soul. All it took was your presence.

But your love? That, angel, has made me into the male I was always meant to be. I don’t know how to thank you for being mine, but I’ll spend eternity trying to find a way. That, my angel, is my promise to you.

Thank you for being my beautiful mistake and my better half.

Love always,

Devin

Download Beautiful Mistake, Royal Pride book 2, for FREE in Kindle Unlimited at: http://amzn.to/1OXuX1E

Beautiful Mistake

Royal Pride, book 2

A tortured man…A fearless woman…A mistake that will change their lives forever.

Three centuries ago, Devin Moore sacrificed his sanity to save his sister. Every day since is spent in a constant battle of wills with the three crazed cats—lion, tiger and jaguar—he houses. Keeping his shattered mind together has taken its toll, destroying any hope of having a family, but he can’t turn his back on innocents in need.

When information on his pride’s missing child reaches him, he rushes to bring her home. But the rescue mission goes horribly wrong. Lena, the human female who turns herself into bait​ in order to protect the little girl, is wounded and struggling to survive.

In a desperate act, he saves Lena. But it doesn’t erase his past mistakes. And for a broken man who’s finally offered hope, there’s only one thing left to do—prove his worth. The only problem? He’ll never be whole. Or sane. But maybe…just maybe…even the damned can find peace.

Excerpt 

“Morning, Lena. How are you feeling?”

His rumbly voice made her stomach flutter. She clenched her hands until her nails dug into her palms. The bite of pain distracted her from thinking about the man she should fear but couldn’t help desiring.

“Better.” She swallowed hard. “I…umm, want to…” Strong hands lifted hers and the slight contact zapped her thoughts. The unexplainable mix of emotions—lust, affection, confusion, anxiety—returned. She couldn’t get her mind to work. “Talk. I want to talk.”

“Me too. We have a lot to talk about.”

Instead of asking any of the questions she knew he had, he gently pulled back her fingers, kissing each one before pressing his mouth to her palm. His touch branded her and filled her with warmth.

“My sisters…I called them.”

“Are they safe?”

His question and the emotion laced into it eased some of her tension.

She nodded. “They’re safe.”

A long moment passed while Devin brushed his cheek back and forth over her inner wrist. “You’re not going to tell me where they are yet, are you?”

She shook her head.

“Look at me.”

Unable to resist him, she opened her eyes, and his breathtaking ones stared back at her. Strands of patchwork hair framed the face that had occupied her dreams all night. Harshly cut cheekbones, up-tilted eyes and the wider, flatter nose made it unique, a mixture of beauty and power. Devin was the type of man you never forgot. One glimpse and you were hooked.

He knelt next to her on the wrinkled sheets, looking deliciously hot with his disheveled hair, bare chest and loose sweats. She let her gaze travel over him from the bulge in his pants to the lips she wanted on hers.

“You can trust me.”

She wanted to. “I need to make sure.”

He stretched on the bed next to her and pulled her into his arms. He didn’t say anything. He simply held her. The tension in her limbs drained, and she relaxed in his embrace exactly as she’d done in the hotel.

She didn’t know how long they snuggled, but finally he placed his palm over her heart.

“The answer is here. Do you feel it?”

*~*~*

Download Beautiful Mistake, Royal Pride book 2, for FREE in Kindle Unlimited at: http://amzn.to/1OXuX1E

Also in the ROYAL Pride series:

Treasured Find
Favorite Obsession

Other shifter books:

KAGAN Wolves series (a parallel series set in the same world as the Royal Pride series)

Chance on Love , a FREE novella
Bridged by Love
Shared for Love

The details…

Book Title: Beautiful Mistake

Series Name: Royal Pride

Series Number: 2.0

Author: Nancy Corrigan

ASIN: B0172NFTQM

Length: 115K

Publication Date: January 11th 2016

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A little about Nancy…

A true romantic at heart, Nancy Corrigan is convinced there’s a knight in shining armor for every woman (or man), but you won’t find damsels in distress in her stories. She adores pairing alpha heroes with women strong enough to match them and bring them to their knees. She also enjoys flipping the traditional roles in romances because her motto is—love and people should never be forced to conform to anyone’s norm.

She holds a degree in chemistry and has worked in research but now focuses on ensuring quality. She considers it the perfect outlet for her as she’s the first to admit she has some OCD tendencies. It carries over into her writing life too. While engrossed in a novel, she has a habit of forgetting to eat and sleep. Fortunately, she’s married to her own knight in shining armor who understands her oddities and loves her anyway. They reside in Pennsylvania with their three children, dog, snake and guinea pigs. Her other interests include tattoos, animals, classic cars and all things spooky and sexy.

The Babbling Brook (Important Question)

“We become what we do.” ~Chiang Kai-Shek

Does that mean if I sit on a couch, I become a couch? If I write, I am a writer…? Makes sense, right? No deep thought here. Just wanted to throw out that quote and see if anything happened in my brain, and then maybe I’d suddenly find a purpose for this post.

Nope. Not happening. No purpose. Except… I am moving my fingers…and my voice is narrating inside my brain as I type this…so the voices should follow soon… Then I can begin to begin to write so that I can become, again, a writer.

See how this works? Follow an idea long enough and you either sound like a babbling idiot or a wise philosopher. Which am I?

Yeah, babbling, here. Like a bloody brook.

So, what about you? If you become what you do, what do wish you’d do…

to become whatever…?

Psst! And now you know where Emmy Harris came from…

Flashback: Mutiny’s Bounty (Contest)

I’m ready for this, aren’t you?

The weather’s been oddly warm the past couple of weeks, which means I can bear putting my hands on the pool’s metal-poled skimmers and into the water to clean the traps. Already my thoughts are turning toward summer. Maybe we’ll have an early Spring? *fingers crossed*

In the meantime, would you like to dream about a vacation in the Caribbean? Well, I have just the series for you. Just three stories, all about women who get more adventure than they counted on during their “adventure vacations”—and all featuring those awesome, ex-military men. Want a Marine? Sexy SEALs?

Comment for a chance to win one of these stories!

  

Interested only in experiencing an adrenaline-packed adventure first-hand to give her credo when she books her clients’ adventure vacations, Lace McElhannon finds more excitement than she can handle when she meets and falls into bed with ex-SEAL Dex Haygood.

Fresh from protecting transport ships from Somali pirates, Dex figures his latest job will be a cakewalk, until he finds himself in deep water, swimming with sharks and trying to protect Lace when the yacht they’re sailing on is taken.

“Sweetheart, the sharks are down there.” Ice blue eyes wrinkled at the corners as the man bending over the side of the olive-green skiff pointed a finger into the clear blue depths beneath her.

Did he think she’d missed seeing the swarm, or flock, or whatever the hell you called a group of freaking sharks? They were busy ripping into the grisly bundle of fish parts and guts the dive crew had dropped to the sea floor in a wire basket—which was why she’d hurried over here.

“Exactly! Like any sane person would purposely swim with sharks?” She let her voice frag, then crimped her lips to keep from saying anything else that made her sound like she was twelve. Lace McElhannon was glad she hadn’t given him a snarky wag of her head while she’d said it. But seriously, who would blame her for being snotty? Great White sharks were swimming thirty feet beneath her toes and he wasn’t doing anything about it!

When her yacht-mates had blithely donned their snorkels and goggles then fell backward into the water without a care, she’d only hesitated for a moment. How scary could it be? And the dive team had seemed professional, assuring them the spotters’ job was to watch for any trouble, and they would swoop in to the rescue or drop fresh bait to distract the sharks.

Not until she’d glanced down and seen a dozen huge, sleek bodies—with rows and rows of jagged teeth—circling had she’d freaked out, leaving her ship-mates bobbing on the surface like live bait while she’d struck out toward the skiff.

Fighting for breath, Lace dog-paddled, then swam faster against a rising wave that sent her closer to the skiff’s hull. Salty water splashed into her mouth and she gulped without thinking, coughing and spitting, knowing she looked like an idiot, but her poor swimming skills didn’t have a thing to do with her breathless state. Fear froze her body, making expanding her lungs impossible.

Yes, she’d paid to swim with sharks. Or at least she’d paid for the plane ticket to get here to the Bahamas. But maybe she shouldn’t have watched Susan’s Shark Week DVDs beforehand. Her friend, and partner at the travel agency, had tried to dissuade her from choosing this particular adventure vacation, knowing she’d only ever swum in a heated pool. But who could pass up a week in the Bahamas? She’d had visions of watching the excitement through the window of a glass-bottom boat. But now was not the time to wonder why she hadn’t paid closer attention to Jake Halloran’s description of his “little ocean jaunt.”

“You have to help me up,” she said, sliding up her goggles to let the smirking hunk see her terror-stricken eyes. “I have a cramp.”

His eyes narrowed as he stared down at her. “We’re not here to rescue clients from their own bad decisions.”

“Make an exception.” She pushed the mouthpiece of her snorkel to the side so he could see the determination thinning her lips.

“Better pull her up, Dex,” another voice above her drawled. “The way she’s splashing, those whites’ll think she’s a fish in distress.”

Dex. So that was his name. But she didn’t have time to savor the mystery that had taunted her since she’d boarded the Clementine three days ago for one of Halloran’s daily jaunts. Despite the amenities aboard the 160-foot motorized luxury yacht behind her, she’d been much more interested in this man than the rock-climbing wall near the upper deck. On their first day aboard the yacht, he’d been introduced as the commander of the guard team providing security for the high-end adventure vacation. Unfortunately, he spent most of his time on the much smaller and faster escort boat which accompanied them while they sailed. She’d really hoped for a chance to get to know him. Everything about him had attracted her—his size, his muscled frame, his icy-cool gaze that landed like a hot laser, making her melt.

Funny how that calculating stare didn’t have the same effect when she was scared.

A rope ladder rolled over the side of the skiff and she swam for it, reaching out and gripping the first rung, doing her best to haul herself up. But she’d been swimming for a good while and her limbs felt like lead weights. She dangled on the rope, half in-half out of the water, catching her breath and staring down to make sure her toes were curled in case the big fishes thought they were sausages. But she’d also watched Jaws. Sharks could lunge upward. Her breath caught in her throat, and she cast a wild glance above her.

A thickly muscled arm shot downward. A steel grip wrapped around one wrist and pulled her up, not releasing until she lay draped over the side of the boat.

She tried to get a leg up and over the side, not caring her ass was on display, but didn’t finish the motion because strong hands gripped her waist and lifted her, setting her on her feet.

She swayed, not having to exaggerate her sigh of relief or the weakness in her knees to get a chance to lean against the firm, hard body she’d been ogling for days. “You saved me,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper.

His head shook side to side, his chin rubbing her hair. “You weren’t in any danger. Or wouldn’t have been if you’d managed to remain calm. The sharks really are more interested in chum than you.”

Lace shivered and snuggled closer, reminded she wore the teensiest bikini in her bikini wardrobe and she was getting him soaking wet. She’d hoped for a moment like this when she’d seen him in the powerful little skiff, his dark tee hugging well-muscled arms and a lean torso, lightweight black cargo pants doing nothing to hide the thickness of his sturdy thighs, dark sunglasses giving him an added, irresistible air of danger. And he wore combat boots in a boat. How sexy was that?

Her friend Maya had just such a man, someone who’d put himself in the line of fire to keep her friend safe. And why couldn’t she find a hero of her own? Maybe because she was on vacation and only had three days left in the Bahamas? But a lot could happen in three days if a girl wasn’t too fussy about appearing a little desperate, and she and her fellow passengers were heading back to the villa that night for a cozy dinner party.

A throat cleared.

The boat really was small, and three other hotties sat nearby with their gazes trained on her and Dex. But the one who’d dared interrupt them wore a dazzling smile and gave her a wicked waggle of his blond eyebrows.

“Ma’am, you might enjoy watching the sharks from the swimming platform. Stand in the spotter’s cage and look down. The water’s so clear you’ll feel like they’re closer than they are, but you’ll be safe.”

Lace wasn’t interested in the sharks swarming in the water. She liked the one standing so close the heat from his body warmed her head to toe.

But Dex only cupped her elbows, and she’d given him ample opportunity and implicit permission to touch so much more.

Now that the quaking had stopped, she felt her face grow hot. Lace drew away and began to offer him a small smile of apology, but his slitted gaze made a quick trip down her body. Oh. Maybe she hadn’t blown this first encounter after all. Could she use that hint of attraction to wrangle an invitation for drinks after they reached the villa’s dock?

She licked her lips and pouted them. “I guess I should be getting back to my boat…”

“No more shivers?” His voice was deep and slightly husky.

“Only where it counts,” she whispered, arching a brow.

His mouth twitched, but he set her back, his hand trailing from her arms ever so subtly.

Her breath hitched, and she was glad she was already soaking wet because her body was warming, and the evidence of her desire could have been embarrassing.

Dex shot a glance over his shoulder. “Bring the boat around to the platform.”

The engine fired. The escort boat made a slow circle of the yacht, Dex’s large hand at the small of her back to keep her steady. When they bumped softly against the rubberized edge of the platform, he held her hand, not letting it go until she’d stepped safely up onto the lower deck platform. He dropped his hand and began to turn.

Lace reached across and tapped his shoulder.

His face slowly turned, his jaw jutting to reveal a stern, hard line.

Good Lord, that mean look made her hot. “Can I offer you a drink…later…seeing as you saved my life?”

Soft laughter came from his equally well-built friend. Blond brows rose over dreamy brown eyes, and he gave her a slight shake of his head.

She wasn’t deterred. Instead, she steadied her gaze on the dark-haired man with the glacier eyes. “I promise I don’t bite.”

“We’ll see,” he said, then turned away from the platform.

His firm voice didn’t give her an ounce of hope he was serious. Sighing, she turned, giving him a look that conveyed her disappointment, and then  walked away. So maybe the sway of her bottom was anything but natural, but since she was wearing a thong, she knew exactly where his gaze went.

Lace wasn’t giving up. That attitude wasn’t in her DNA. When she wanted something, she went after it. And she wanted him. Yes, every one of his security team members was equally lovely, but he’d challenged her. She flipped back her red hair, but the effect was spoiled as water-soaked tendrils slapped her shoulder.

The sound of the skiff’s motor roaring into life again gave her Dex’s direction. A plan began to form.

One of the crisply uniformed crewmen stepped forward with a towel. “Is there anything else I can bring you, miss?”

Grateful for the distraction, she gave the crewman a smile. “A martini. Very dry. And I want a chaise moved to the high deck.” The skiff was currently bobbing beside the starboard side of the yacht. She’d drink her favorite cocktail atop the upper deck platform—very slowly—and make sure Dex knew she was watching him. And maybe she’d take off her top—to catch the late afternoon rays. None of the wives or girlfriends of the wealthy men who’d actually paid for the trip—she’d been given hers gratis—had been the least bit shy about stripping. So, she wouldn’t be breaching any of the boat’s rules.

The potent drink would give her a little Dutch courage. And maybe he’d think the blush that washed over her skin was solely due to too much sun.

 

Dexter Haygood didn’t have long to wait before he caught flak.

“Mmm-mm. Don’t know how you passed that up,” Justin Walsh, the team’s combat medic, said, his face reflecting disappointment in his friend.

Seated at the side of the skiff, Hank Jones, their machine-gunner, shook his head. Always silent, the big man’s expression spoke his disgust. His dark face was screwed up in a frown.

Dex snorted. “I’m not part of the amenities.”

“Halloran gives us free rein of the villa. And he didn’t say a thing about keeping away from the passengers. I think he likes giving them the thrill of rubbing elbows with ex-SEALs. And…we have our own cabanas.” Justin gave another irascible waggle of his brows. “You could invite her for a little some-some and no one would bat an eye.”

“We’re here to do a job,” Dex said, feeling annoyed that he hadn’t managed to hide his attraction to the redhead from his team. Now he’d never hear the end of their teasing. Not something he was accustomed to, as he rarely protected beautiful women in his line of work.

Which made him wonder again what the hell he was doing on this assignment. Protecting the Clementine’s passengers shouldn’t have required more than a couple of onboard guards, which Halloran employed regularly, not a four-man combat-ready rapid response team in an armed escort boat, and a second on-the-ground team patrolling the estate. And the machine gun stowed under a bench in the boat rather than secured in the gun turret underscored the fact this wasn’t their usual mission.

“Why look a gift horse in the mouth?” Justin gave him another cheeky grin. “This job is a vacation. We’re in the Caribbean, not the Indian Ocean. Maybe the powers that be thought we could use a little R&R.”

From his position behind the wheel of the powerful boat, Johnny Turtoro gave Dex a pointed glance. “Yeah, boss. You’d think you’d be happy we aren’t taking fire from Somali pirates.”

Dex frowned. When had his team gotten so chummy they thought they could chime in on his love life? “There’s more money on that boat than on any transport barge traveling the Strait of Malacca. It’s target rich. Halloran is right to be cautious.”

“Whatever. I think you’re smitten.” Justin lifted his head, staring at the raised upper deck of the Clementine. His jaw sagged for a second, and then his grin stretched, white teeth flashing. “Yo, Dex. Think she could wear any less?”

Dex shot a glance upward and sucked in sharp breath.

The redhead sat on the edge of a chaise next to the low rail of the boat, a martini glass in one hand, dark glasses shading her gorgeous green eyes. However, her cat-like smile wasn’t what held his attention.

He cursed under his breath, knowing he was going to cave and do the one thing he’d promised himself he wouldn’t—get tangled up with a rich girl, someone whose expectations he’d never meet no matter how hard he tried.

But the expanse of ivory skin, too pale to ever tan, angered him. Not because the minx was giving his buddies a show, but because she was risking a sunburn on the prettiest set of breasts he’d ever seen. Nicely rounded. Firm. Nipples a pale, rosy pink.

And he’d already had an eyeful of her long legs and firm ass. His fingers still tingled from the lingering urge to fill his hands with those sexy curves. “Dammit,” he said under his breath, but not softly enough.

The team erupted in soft chuckles.

He swiveled his head to give them all a hot glare. “That’ll be enough. Tuturo,” he bit off the word, “take the boat around the other side.”

With his crew’s light-hearted complaints ringing in his ears, Dex turned, fighting a smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Her unsubtle efforts to get under his skin had worked. She’d gotten to him.

Red hair, eyes as green as soft Kentucky grass. A body made for hot loving.

She wasn’t Lenore, the general’s daughter he’d dated on the sly who’d liked to run her hands over muscles newly honed by weeks of BUD/S training, but who’d been engaged all the while to her daddy’s Aide-de-Camp. And he wasn’t in his twenties and lovesick for a pretty girl.

After one last glance at the nearly nude beauty giving him a wave, he made himself a promise. He’d have her once. Then he’d walk away. One night ought to be enough to smooth his rough edges and prove to her the last thing she wanted was some ex-SEAL who didn’t have the time or inclination to be anyone’s play-date. This didn’t have to be a big thing. Just a hook-up with a bored beauty.

So why in hell was his body tightening with excitement? Why was his chest expanding, dragging in sea air that somehow felt fresher than it had minutes ago? The sun beat down, but its merciless heat wasn’t what warmed him. The thought of plundering her long, lithe, pale body made him feel like a pirate. A marauder. And he didn’t like the satisfaction that fanciful vision gave him. Dex liked to be in control. Liked to take the lead, be the one to initiate contact and the one to fade away when things got sticky. Instinct told him the redhead might harbor those same inclinations . And he didn’t like the thought she believed she was leading him in this dance.

As the skiff cut a path through the waves to the other side, away from the tempting view of the woman he’d fished from the sea, he rocked his head side-to-side, easing the tension knotting his neck. He’d have her, then he’d concentrate on his mission, the job he was being paid the big bucks to do—however unlikely it was that danger might find them here in paradise.

Jennifer Kacey: My February of Love and Lust (Contest — 3 Winners!)

I love February!! I love the promise of new love, and rekindling love. Appreciating loved ones and straight up delicious sex and smutty reads sure to set the mood!

In honor of the awesomeness that is Valentine’s Day, three releases this month and one of my best friends’ birthday I’m going to have three giveaways! Yea for giveaways!!

1st is a signed copy of this month’s Penthouse Magazine that I have a story in!! OMFG so excited!! The story is called “Discipline and Desire” and is an MFF ménage and SUPER dirty!!!

2nd is an e-book copy of Zeke’s Pitstop which is Book Two in the Fantasies A-Z Series! A kinky story that released on 2/9/2016!!

And 3rd is an e-book copy of Broken Silence – my contribution to the Black Hills Wolves shared world published by Decadent Publishing! This publishes on 2/26/2016 when I’m in San Antonio at the WWW convention!!!

How do you enter all of these awesome contests?!?!?! Tell me in the comments section what you love about well…love!! Someone you love! A holiday you love! A cookie you’d marry if it was legal in the lower 48!! Fill me on what creams your twinkie and don’t forget to put your email address in the comment so I can get a hold of you if you win!!

Hope you love them all and there’s more where that came from!!

Decadently Yours,

Jennifer Kacey

About the Author

Jennifer Kacey is a writer, mother, and business owner living with her miniman in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.

Website – Newsletter – The Decadent Divas – Amazon Page

Facebook – Facebook Author Page – Twitter – Goodreads – Pinterest

 

Sierra Brave: Rock you like a Hurricane (Recipe)

A hurricane is not exactly romantic, but being hunkered down with the one (or ones) you love can certainly create the opportunity for some hot and steamy situations. Set during early September 1995 when Hurricane Fran was menacing the eastern coast of the United States, Rock you like a Hurricane is what I call a retro romance. Anyone who lived in the Carolinas during Hurricane Fran’s rampage can tell you, she was no pushover. When all was said and done, she had caused millions of dollars’ worth of damage and substantial loss of life along the Atlantic coast. My heroes, Tommy and Ken, and heroine, Trisha, decided the best way to wait out Fran was with plenty of snacks and lots of booze. They opted for beer, but I’m going to share Liquor.com’s Hurricane Cocktail Recipe:

Ingredients:

2 oz White Rum (omit if under 21)

2 oz Dark Rum (omit if under 21)

1 oz Lime juice

1 oz Orange juice

2 oz Passion fruit juice

.5 oz Simple syrup

.5 oz Grenadine

First make the simple syrup by heating .5cp of water in a small saucepan over medium heat. Stir in .5 cp of white sugar until dissolved. Strain into a jar and seal tightly with a lid. Simple syrup will keep refrigerated for about a month.

Add all Hurricane cocktail ingredients to a shaker and fill with ice. Shake and strain into a large Hurricane glass. Garnish with an orange half-wheel and a cherry.

Lifelong best friends, Tommy Marks and Ken Davidson prepare to ride out the storm with Trisha Harper, the woman both men adore. Determine to preserve their friendship, the men cling to a gentleman’s agreement, promising neither will make a move on her but can such a pact be upheld in the eye of the storm? With both men teetering between desire and the fear of rejection and loss, Trisha has no wish to break up the dynamic duo. For her it’s all or nothing and she’s determined to have Tommy and devour Ken too.

Available at Amazon on February 22nd or preorder now at Liquid Silver Books.

About the Author

Sierra Brave is a southern girl with a love for fantasy fiction and well-written yarns that celebrate the humor in everyday life. Her love of erotic fiction started in her last year of high school when she first read the sensual classic, Fanny Hill. She felt so naughty yet liberated with her copy tucked away in her book bag and hopes her work will have the same delicious effect on her readers.

Connect with Sierra:

Website/Facebook/Twitter/Pinterest

Nancy Corrigan: A look inside an author’s head…

Did you ever wonder how an author takes an idea and develops it into a story? Me too, and I’m fascinated by the different approaches authors take. You have your pansters who write by the seat of their pants, the plotters, and those who combine the two. There is no right or wrong way to pen a novel, but I’m happy to say I’m a plotter who embraces epiphany when it strikes.

This method works for me for two reasons. One, I don’t write full-time. If I want to write, edit, and polish four or more 100K books a year and still have time for my family, I need to be organized and focused when its “writing time”. I just don’t have time to deal with plot holes or the dreaded writer’s block. And two, I can’t jump from project to project. I get too caught up in one world to be able to switch back and forth. Each series—Wild Hunt, Royal Pride, Kagan Wolves, and Sander’s Valley—has its own set of rules and a unique “feel” that I lose by jumping around. If I do, everything takes on the same tone and characters start to merge. Other authors thrive by doing this. Not me. I can’t do it.

After my idea sparks, I let it play out in my head, working the kinks out of it and fitting it into the series arc. This can take days or weeks, and this usually happens while I’m editing another book. When I reach the professional editing stage, my current story is usually solid and only needs to be tightened and proofed.

Plotting often involves working on profile sheets for characters, looking for inspirational pictures for scenes to give me a visual nudge, and sketching out the book, chapter by chapter. I even go so far as to write a loose synopsis before I type a single paragraph of the book.

Once all that’s done, it’s time to write. Since I work full-time, the bulk of that is done on the weekend, and I use my lunchbreaks during the week to read over what I wrote and do a first pass edit. Then it’s off to one of my wonderful editors.

The culmination is release day, and I celebrated one yesterday! Hunter Forsaken is the newest installment in the Wild Hunt series. Check it out below and if you haven’t read the free prequel, Hunter Sacrificed, you should. It’s available everywhere.

Hunter Forsaken

Wild Hunt, book 2

A vow to the dead…the mark of the Hunt…a love with one chance to survive.

In the slice of a moment, Ian Callahan lost everything he cared about—a deed done by his own hand. He awakens on the edge of sanity, chained in his own personal hell. He is to be the newest rider in the Wild Hunt, if he can learn to control the rage and guilt that consume him.

Then…a whiff of vanilla. The face of a lover he’s seen only in his dreams. He doesn’t know her name, only that she stirs the hungry beast within him.

For a millennium, Tegan and her sibling riders of the Wild Hunt were imprisoned, suffering under a curse meant for the Unseelie Court. Though her body is free, she carries the curse with her—and the additional burden of finally knowing the name of her destined mate. A human named Ian Callahan.

He’s her Trojan horse, the only one who can heal her heart. Just one last challenge stands in the way of claiming each other, once and for all. Failure means facing eternity the incomplete halves of a whole.

Warning: Contains a hero who’s more than just the total…package. And a daughter of the Underworld who thought she knew what Hell was…until she fell in love. Boundaries of monogamy pushed, pulled, stretched—but never broken.

Praise for the Wild Hunt series…

RT Book Reviews on Hunter Forsaken—“With underworld intrigue, a daring rescue of innocents from the fairy realm and a demon-fueled plot twist, there’s a lot of action, but at its heart, this is a story about the redemptive power of love.”

The Library Journal on the Wild Hunt series— “…intriguing and original… Recommended for those whose traditional sexual values just need a little boost.”

Excerpt

“You’re Calan’s sister?”

She slid her fingers to the column of his neck. “Half sister, yes. All the riders of the Hunt were fathered by Arawn.” She grinned, showing off straight white teeth. “Besides you, of course.”

He swallowed hard. The mention of the Lord of the Underworld put a whole new spin on Tegan’s heritage. “You’re a demigod.”

Not just any lesser god either. She’d been fathered by the black-skinned, winged creature he’d seen when he joined the Hunt. Arawn’s image had appeared inside his head, much like Tegan’s had over the years they’d visited each other. The sight of him hadn’t bothered Ian. Knowing his dream lover carried Arawn’s genes did.

“Yes, I—”

“You knew me before I joined the Hunt, didn’t you?” He had to be sure she’d participated in his dreams, that it wasn’t only his imagination.

Her nostrils flared. “I don’t—”

“Yes or no, Tegan. Have you invaded my dreams for the past three years?” Making me yearn for you?

She leaned over him. Inches from his face, she leveled a hard glare at him. “Yes. We shared the same dream, but don’t interrupt me. Ever. I don’t like it.”

He filed the information away and dropped his attention from her irritated eyes to her lips. He licked his. No matter what other form she could take or who her parents were, she was still the woman who’d made him question everything. He wanted to know why she’d connected with him. Beyond that, he wasn’t sure how he felt about knowing she was actually alive. He wavered between wanting to fuck her and punishing her for messing with his life.

“I know how you like to be touched. Loved.” He glanced into her eyes. The same look of smoldering desire she’d worn for him whenever he’d connected with her darkened them. More black than brown, they captivated him. They had from the first moment he’d peered into them. “Don’t I?”

“You don’t know anything about me, Ian.”

The animosity in her voice didn’t match the scent of her arousal or her quickened heartbeat. He didn’t understand where her anger was coming from.

“But I want to. I want to know every detail.” Then and only then would he decide what to do about her. “Kiss me.”

She bent closer but remained out of reach. Her breath heated his lips. Vanilla, the tempting and addicting scent he’d craved as much as the woman, invaded his lungs. He strained to close the slight distance. She remained out of reach.

He growled.

She pulled back with a grin plastered on her sultry mouth. “Is that my warning?”

Although still mainly human, the acceptance of the Huntsman’s mark had altered certain aspects of his body. He acted more animal than man at times. The low rumbling deep in his chest proved it.

“Yes.” He allowed another growl to trickle from his lips. “Kiss. Me. Now.”

She skimmed her parted lips across his cheek. The simple touch rocked him. He froze. At his ear, she caught his earlobe between her teeth and tugged, tearing a rough sound from him.

“We’re going to have to work on your obedience, Hunter Ian. You don’t order me around. That’s my job.”

Her sultry voice tightened his balls. Her words, though, pissed him the fuck off. “Between us, the only power you have over me is what I give you.”

She chuckled. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

She straightened and skimmed her heated gaze over him. His skin tingled under her focused perusal. With a single finger, she traced the length of his arm from shoulder to wrist.

She tapped the cuff locking him to the bed. “These turn the tables, don’t you think?”

*~*~* 

Get the book at…

Amazon
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ARe
Publisher

Also available in Print.

SPECIAL NOTICE: Are you a new recruitment to the Wild Hunt? While Hunter Forsaken can be read first, for the most enjoyment of the series, it is advised to start with Hunter Sacrificed, a FREE novella available everywhere. Check out the links here: http://www.nancycorriganauthor.com/hunter-sacrificed.html

The details…

Book Title: Hunter Forsaken

Series Name: Wild Hunt

Series Number: 2.0

Author: Nancy Corrigan

ASIN: B0154FP1LS

Length: 75K

Publication Date: February 16, 2016

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A little about Nancy…

A true romantic at heart, Nancy Corrigan is convinced there’s a knight in shining armor for every woman (or man), but you won’t find damsels in distress in her stories. She adores pairing alpha heroes with women strong enough to match them and bring them to their knees. She also enjoys flipping the traditional roles in romances because her motto is—love and people should never be forced to conform to anyone’s norm.

She holds a degree in chemistry and has worked in research but now focuses on ensuring quality. She considers it the perfect outlet for her as she’s the first to admit she has some OCD tendencies. It carries over into her writing life too. While engrossed in a novel, she has a habit of forgetting to eat and sleep. Fortunately, she’s married to her own knight in shining armor who understands her oddities and loves her anyway. They reside in Pennsylvania with their three children, dog, snake and guinea pigs. Her other interests include tattoos, animals, classic cars and all things spooky and sexy.