Sable Hunter's Blog, page 10

Sable's Sex Scene "S" elebration

Well, I finished IF I CAN DREAM, fifteen days over my own personal deadline, but sometimes I just get out of hand. I’ll blame it on Tennessee and Molly, they led me a wild chase – but it’s done, thank goodness and will be up for sale before the end of the month.

 I’m keeping my fingers crossed – To celebrate, I went out to eat with a local author friend to a place in downtown Austin called Gloria’s. It’s located on Sixth Street and was very trendy and the food was delicious. I’m also shopping for cowboy boots for the conferences next year. I’m planning on getting a pair with inlaid turquoise, a pair with yellow roses (my symbol) and a pair of Lucchese that has a tapestry pattern to die for. I have an eclectic sense of style, nothing plain for me. I was shopping recently for the girlfriend of a family member who likes really tailored plain clothes and I got so depressed shopping for her, I nearly cried. My style is more ‘Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves’ rather than elegant understated look. If it doesn’t have beads, sequins, ruffle, fringe, embroidery or cutouts – I don’t want it! Anyway, it was good to write THE END. – Now on to Texas Chaos and Texas Maverick. Here’s a sex scene from IF I CAN DREAM:

“Good. Are you hungry?” he asked as he made a U-turn to head back to the hotel.

“Not for food,” she said mildly, deciding she was going to enjoy their time together. No one was guaranteed tomorrow. She had no idea what their future held, but a man like Tennessee didn’t come along every day.

“Fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me wreck.” Tennessee murmured as he tried to focus on getting them to the hotel in one piece.

Watching the lights go by, Molly admitted to herself she was nervous. Needing to tell him what was on her heart, she blurted it all out. “You don’t have to worry. I’m on birth control. I’m not a virgin, but I haven’t been with anyone in a long time and my experiences can be counted on one hand. So, I hope you’re not expecting too much.”

Tennessee took her hand in his. “This is our first time, that’s all that matters. The only thing I’m expecting is to lose myself in you. You have no idea how much I want you. Just you.”

Molly’s heart thudded in her chest. “I can’t wait,” she whispered.

Pulling into his parking spot, he was out and around to her side before she could gather her backpack off the floorboard. “You don’t have to wait. Let me carry that for you.”

She handed her bag to him and he shouldered it, using his other hand to pull her close. Making their way through an arched gate, he chuckled. “I’m so damn hard I can barely walk.”

“We’ll see what we can do about that.”

Her natural teasing personality enchanted him. Life with Molly would never be boring. There were people sitting on the long terra-cotta paved verandah, listening to the sound of the water from the central fountain. Tennessee nodded at them politely as he pulled out his key and opened the intricately carved antique doors that led into his room. Stepping back to allow her to enter first, Molly’s eyes went automatically to the huge king-size bed that dominated the room.

“This is nice.” She noted the dark furniture, the silver sconces on the wall and the pair of cowboy chaps that hung predominately over the bed as decoration. “Definitely cowboy themed.”

“I don’t see anything but you.” He whispered as he laid down his hat next to her bag on the bench at the end of the bed.

Molly fingered the hem of her top. She had on the same clothes she’d worn earlier, there’d been no chance to change. “I don’t have anything with me to sleep in, sexy or otherwise.”

Ten came to her, sliding his hand beneath her hair, cradling the side of her neck. “You won’t need anything, pretty girl. I plan on wrapping myself around you all night long.”

“God, I want you.” She shook, a little from nerves and a lot from arousal. Grasping the collar of his white cowboy shirt, she tugged, the snaps popping opening quickly one by one.

Savage satisfaction filled him as he felt her soft fingers move down his chest. “I have never wanted another woman the way I want you.” He feathered kisses across her face. “I’m shaking with it.” Running his hands underneath the bottom of her shirt, he caressed the warm smooth skin. “I need to see you.” Slowly with great care, he lifted the leather vest over her head, capturing her lips as soon as the material cleared her face.

Molly had worn no bra and as she pressed up to him, her nipples were abraded by the hair on his chest and frissons of excitement bloomed on her body.

“You’re exquisite. I love your tits.” As he deepened the kiss, his hands came up to tease her nipples.

When she moaned, he cupped both breasts, his moan of desire making her knees weak. “Can I?” she tugged at his belt buckle.

“Hell, allow me.” With two or three efficient moves, he’d undone his belt, slid down the zipper and shucked his boots, socks, jeans and briefs. “I bet this is a record.”

“It might be.” She wasn’t talking about the amount of time it had taken him to undress. Her eyes were glued to his cock. She placed the heel of her hand at the head and the tip of her fingers didn’t reach the root. “You’re beautiful,” she breathed, winking at him, “a perfect Ten.”

“In more ways than one,” he teased back. “I won’t hurt you,” he promised. “By the time I get through kissing you, you’ll be begging me to slip inside.”

“Show me,” she offered as his hands went to her own jeans and he helped her pull them down and off.

Once he had her undressed, Ten took her by the hand and held her at arm’s length. “Good golly, Miss Molly,” he whispered and whistled. “You are exquisite.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. “So beautiful.” Her body was perfectly formed, an elegant hour glass with generous breasts, a narrow waist and flared sensual hips. The smooth mound of her pussy made him lick his lips with longing. “I am going to have such a good time with you.”

Joining their lips, he walked her back toward the bed. She could feel his big erection rubbing against her middle. “The first time I saw you, I thought you were too handsome for your own good.”

Ten chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Following her down on the bed, he couldn’t keep his eyes or hands off her supple breasts. “I can’t wait another moment.” Lowering his mouth, he swirled his tongue around one turgid nipple. Molly gasped and arched her back, pushing her tits up toward him. He welcomed them, taking as much of her breast into his mouth as he could. When he began sucking hard at one breast while massaging the nipple of the other between his fingers, she bucked so hard beneath him that he had to hold her down.

Ten didn’t let up. She loved to have her breasts sucked, he could tell by how she was writhing and moaning. Her hands were moving over his shoulders and arms, using some of those same rubbing and kneading techniques she’d teased him with on the massage table. Ten couldn’t get enough, he pushed her tits together and gorged himself, sliding his lips from one pink peak to the other. They were melt in his mouth sweet and he suckled at them until her fingers were digging almost painfully into his flesh. The pleasure he was finding in her was almost incomprehensible.

“Ten-a-see!” she cried, wrapping her legs around his, needing to be as close as she could get.

He craved her, his cock ached with unadulterated desperation. She’d confessed how little experience she had and how long it had been, so he had to make damn sure she was ready for him.

Plus he wanted it to last, Ten wanted to savor this moment and this woman for as long as he could.

His mouth blazed a trail from her chest to her neck, placing open-mouth sucking kiss on each inch of succulent flesh. She was amazing. For the first time he was as attracted to a woman’s personality and character as he was her body. And what a body! Spread out before him was every man’s dream, an erotic playground of silky flesh and sweet curves. He wanted to kiss and touch every inch of her.

Ten’s breath was coming hard and fast, he needed her as frantic for him as he was for her. With hands, lips and tongue he fed the heat that was blazing between them, worshiping every inch of her. When he had performed his own version of the head to toe attention she’d given him, he spread her legs and applied himself to a task he’d been dreaming of since the moment he’d seen her astride that horse. He’d been jealous, wanting to be the one between her legs. Kissing his way up the inside of her thigh, he nipped the tender flesh and smiled when she grasped him by the hair, clutching the long strands between her fingers.

“You’re completely bare,” he whispered, mesmerized by the soft smooth mound and glistening pink folds.

“I work in a spa, there are some perks,” she said, her voice hitching in her throat.

With care, he opened the satiny lips of her sex, revealing a delicate opening and a swollen bud he knew pulsed with every beat of her heart. Valuing each keen of pleasure like gold, he used his tongue to rub and twirl around her clit.

Molly was beyond thinking, she opened herself as wide as she could, inviting him to feast to his heart’s desire. The feel of his mouth on her pussy was almost more pleasure than she could stand. And when he nuzzled her sex, taking her clit between his lips to suck, she couldn’t haven’t kept her hips still for anything. She pushed upward, demanding more. “God, Ten, yes!”

Tennessee was trembling – fuckin’ trembling – with a need so powerful, he was afraid he’d just explode on the sheets. As he licked and laved her clit, he pushed one finger up into her sheath and the soft hot walls hugged him tight, beckoning him to push further. Ten was dying to do just that, he groaned at the thought of his hungry cock being squeezed in such lushness.

Molly’s world wound tighter and tighter. Tennessee was making her burn. She raised her head and met his eyes and the intensity and desire she saw there caused her to shatter into a billion pinpoints of pure euphoria. Screaming his name, she gave herself to him body and soul. He might not understand the implications, but it made the surrender no less true.

Unable to wait another moment, Ten rose up and eased down between her thighs, spread wide like the wings of a butterfly. She was so beautiful, there was nothing on God’s green earth he wanted more than her. Holding the gaze of those deep blue eyes, he held himself up and placed the head right at the mouth of the tender well, pushing forward until just the tip of his cock was enveloped in the embrace of her velvet walls. Ten threw back his head and bellowed, being inside of Molly was the closest thing to heaven he’d ever known.

Molly clung to his shoulders, holding on as tightly as she could. “Oh, Ten, that feels so good,” she gasped. Raising her hips, she urged him to go deeper.

Watching her closely, he pushed in slowly, giving her time to get used to him. Ten felt like he was being burned alive. She was the hottest thing he’d ever held against him and he was sure he’d be completely consumed. “Nothing has ever felt like this,” he murmured.

“Love me, Tennessee, love me,” she keened as she locked her legs around his hips.

Her sweet acquiescence freed him. With a low moan, he covered her lips with his and thrust to the hilt, burying himself completely within her. They were one. Over and over he plunged into her tight pussy as tongues tangled and her body arched up to cling to him, absorbing and meeting every pump of his hips. “Ten, oh Ten, it’s happening again!” she moaned, her fingernails marking his back, her little teeth scraping the skin of his neck.

Hearing her bliss, feeling the rhythmic clamp of her pussy around his cock – that was all the incentive he needed. With a harsh cry he abandoned his restraint, hammering into her again and again – harder, faster, deeper. Burying his face in her neck, he erupted, glorying in the spasms of her pussy as she came again, tightening around him, milking his cock until he almost passed out from the pleasure.

Molly cradled him close, stunned by what she’d just experienced. When he went limp in her arms, she kissed his sweat dampened brow.

“Molly, Molly, I don’t know…I’ve never…”

“I know,” she stroked his back. “Me either.”

“I need to move, I’m too heavy,” he whispered.

“No.” She tightened her arms around him. “You feel good on top of me. Stay.”

They were still connected, he was still cradled in the sanctuary of her femininity. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.” He held himself up on his forearms so he could look in her face.

She moved a strand of his hair from his forehead. “I have to go back to the trailer. Work comes early in the morning.”

“I need to hold you tonight.” Memories of the evening and the O’Neil’s were threatening to haunt his dreams. Placing his lips to her forehead, he rubbed them back and forth. “If you’ll sleep with me, I’ll set the alarm and get you home in time enough to change clothes, then bring you back.”

Molly looked at his handsome face, trying to read his thoughts. “Don’t you have to go home tomorrow?”

Ten took his time answering. “I think I can stay a bit longer.” He smiled against her skin. “I have a little family business to attend to nearby.”

His answer should have pleased Molly. Instead she felt a pang of disappointment that he didn’t feel as if she were reason enough to stay. Fighting back such a selfish thought, she gave him a smile. “Can we get a wake-up call?”

“Would five-thirty be about right?” He picked up the phone.

“Yea, I think so.”

She wiggled beneath him, causing his dick to spring to life. Hitting the button for the hotel operator, he gave them the information. “Now, where were?” He hung up the phone, refocusing all of his attention on her.

“Right about here.” She tightened around him, loving the way his still large cock filled her. Molly hadn’t realized how empty she’d been, her life as well as her body.

“Oh!” He grinned at her. “Now, I remember.” Taking each of her hands in his, he held them above her head and began to move.

Molly undulated under him, closing her eyes, luxuriating in the feel of his big body moving on top of her. “You’re very well equipped for this job.”

Tennessee smiled, then chuckled. “I’m glad I please you.”

She tugged her hands free and put them to use, running her fingers over his chest as it moved above her, reaching down to feel the intriguing place there were joined. “Just fits. When I first saw you, I was worried. You’re hung.” Ten leaned down to kiss her, stealing her thoughts. All she could process was how good it felt. “I love the way you’re touching me all over.”

“Good.” He peppered kisses all along her cheek and the swell of her breasts, feeling triumphant when chill bumps broke out beneath his lips. “I bet I can make you feel better.” He moved up a bit in the bed, causing his cock to go deeper at a little different angle, his pelvis riding high against her sex. When he began rocking against her, his every grinding stroke hit her just right. Her pussy swelled and creamed. Molly reveled in the friction.

So tight. So wet. So hot. Being inside of her was so damn good. Slamming against her, he pumped his hips, ramming back in. Over and over, faster and faster until there was no thought in his head that wasn’t her.

Cum was boiling up from his balls, his cock swelled even more tightening at the base. He groaned as he jetted hotly into her. His climax seemed to trigger hers. Tennessee felt a powerful contraction milk his cock. Molly pushed her head back into the pillow and he couldn’t resist that creamy expanse of her throat. He touched his lips to her neck, took a bit of sweet flesh between his lips and sucked – marking her.

She kept moving her hips, wanting the feeling to last and last. “You told me I could sleep with you wrapped around me. Did you mean it?”

“I sure did. Hold on, I’ll be right back.” He rose and went to the restroom. She heard the toilet flush, then the water run. In a few seconds, he returned with a warm cloth. “You’ll sleep better if you’re not sticky.”

The small gesture warmed her heart, so she spread her legs wide and then became thoroughly enchanted as he gently cleaned her up. Once he was finished, he wiped her dry with a towel, then joined her on the bed.

As promised, he wrapped himself around her, tucking her head against his chest so that she was nestled against him from head to toe. Pulling the cover up, he kissed her on the lips. “Sleep well, Miss Molly.”

“Dream about me.” She made the same request he’d made the day before.

He whispered in her ear. “Since I met you, I’ve been dreaming of nothing else.”

Hope you enjoy it, have a good day and thank you!

Sable

12 ALARM COWBOYS IS LIVE!!!!

AFTER THE FIRE by Cora Seton
When a series of fires keeps bringing him to her door, a firefighter must uncover his ex-girlfriend’s secret or risk losing her forever.
WHERE THERE'S SMOKE (A Cowboy Way Novella) by Becky McGraw
Cowboy Austin McBride follows a herd to a new town, but firefighting is his passion, so he applies at a local station. Standing between him and the job is a blonde bombshell who thinks she's a shoe-in.
SADDLES AND SOOT by Cynthia D’Alba
Rancher and volunteer firefighter extinguishes a grass fire accidentally started by the town’s sexy temporary veterinarian but there’s something about her that ignites a fire inside of him.
CONTROLLED BURN (Cowboys on the Edge, Book One) by Delilah Devlin
Rancher and volunteer firefighter assigns himself to watch a reformed firebug during a controlled burn but she lights the fire inside him instead of the dead grass around them.
HIS FIREFLY COWGIRL by Beth Williamson
When an arson investigator returns to her hometown she clashes with the firefighter cowboy who broke her heart. Embers turn to sparks between a cowboy and his firefly cowgirl.
HER VOLUNTEER COWBOY (Book 6: Harland County) by Donna Michaels
Sparks reignite when one-nighters reunite. Can the firefighter/Guardsman convince the reforming bad girl she’s worth fighting for, or will she leave before he finds the courage to volunteer his heart?
COWBOY'S MATCH by Lexi Post
When a cowboy firefighter works a fire at a nudist resort, he’s sure his ex-girlfriend, the bookkeeper, is to blame. But as he investigates her, his gut tells him he’s going to get burned.
HELLFIRE, TEXAS by Elle James
A Cowboy-Volunteer Firefighter helps a runaway city girl put out a car fire only to find himself embroiled in a hot little mess of ex-boyfriend persuasion.
REKINDLED (Dallas Fire & Rescue, Book One) by Paige Tyler
A hunky firefighter rescues his best friend’s sexy sister from a hotel fire set by her psychotic ex-boyfriend who’d rather see her dead than with another man.
TEXAS WILDFIRE by Sable Hunter
Honored VFD hero is no angel. In love with his Captain’s wife, all hell breaks loose when Titan learns Makenna is abused. The firestorm their love ignites is so intense no one will emerge unscathed.
HOT IN THE SADDLE – Randi Alexander
When a rancher/volunteer firefighter is injured saving the life of a female stockcar racer, she stays to pay her debt of gratitude. Will he regret risking his life when he learns why she came to Texas?
COME HELL OR HIGH WATER by Sabrina York
When offered a second chance to seduce his high school crush, cowboy/fireman Cade Silver cannot resist. Despite her resistance, he is determined to win her, come hell or high water.

Sable Says: It's Just So Good To Be Bad

Being good is highly overrated. Just think about it. You follow the rules, stay between the lines, do without that THING you want or the WHO you want and what happens? You live to regret it. I’m already sorry for some decisions I’ve made, just trying to be good and doing what was expected of me.

You know, Mark Twain said at the end of the day (your life) we won’t regret the things we did, what we’ll regret are the things we didn’t do.

Now, I could go back and rehash the mistakes I’ve made in the past, the times that I did what other people wanted me to do instead of what I longed to do, but that would be fruitless. It’s water under the bridge. I’ve always tended to try and please people, even when fulfilling their expectations of me causes me to lay my own desires aside. BUT NO MORE!

I want to start a movement, a wave, a revolution of people who choose to take steps to make their own dreams come true! Now, ‘being bad’ doesn’t necessarily mean – lol – breaking the law or getting shot by a jealous wife. Most of the time things we consider bad are things like spending money on ourselves, or maybe binge watching a show when there is ironing to be done. You might want to take that dream vacation you’ve been putting off because spending money on yourself is not something you’re inclined to do. You know what I mean. Take a chance - ask that guy out that you’ve been speaking to in the grocery produce department for the last six months – or be brave and tell your husband you’d really like to have more oral sex. Ha! Be bad!

My Dad always ate dessert first, just in case. I’m not sure what he was worried about happening so he would miss dessert – choking, running out of sweets or the rapture (ye old Baptist religious reference) but I’ve seen him skip the entrees, salads and vegetables and fill his plate with coconut pie and chocolate cake. After he’d had his fill of the good stuff, he’d go and eat something else, if he wasn’t too full I guess. When he died, that was one of the things I thought about, I’m glad he got to eat all of the dessert he wanted.

So join me, my fellow do-gooders. Those of you who have lived by the rules of always doing what’s expected, of putting others first, of letting what you want take a back seat. Let’s take a stand and decide we’re going to be bad for once - - or twice! Every day I want to get up and say, “what can I do that will make me happy today”. Believe it or not, I have spent years ignoring that very thing. When you live for others instead of living for yourself, you tend to get lost in the shuffle. And losing yourself is one of the saddest things in the world.

So, here we go. These aren’t New Year’s Resolutions, these are NEW LIFE Resolutions! I resolve to take more bubble baths. I will go to a convention next year, even if it kills me – ha! I will bring more flowers inside my home. I will kiss my dogs. I will buy an expensive pair of shoes. I will go out to eat more. I will take walks to see the sunset, even when my word count isn’t completely finished. Do you get my drift?

Now, let’s try not to go bankrupt, get arrested or cause a riot. ROFL. Instead, let’s WEAR MORE JEWELRY, DRINK MORE CHAMPAGNE, WINK AT MORE GUYS, HAVE MORE SEX, EAT MORE CHOCOLATE and make MORE DREAMS COME TRUE.

To enter this month’s contest for any ebook of mine you’d like to choose – tell me how you intend to put yourself first – for a change.

Here’s an example of me ‘being bad’ – sex hot enough to melt concrete.

FROM TEXAS WILDFIRE – on sale now, to be released on AUGUST 4th.

It wasn’t the way he looked at her, even though his intense gaze made her wet. It wasn’t the nice things he did for her, although his thoughtfulness made her feel important. She wanted Titan and the main reason was just…him. He was sexy, sweet, smart and hot as hell. By the time they were ready to go to bed, Makenna was so ready for him, she wanted to ride him like a horse. Her bold thought made her blush, but she just went with it. They’d been relaxing in front of the television. He’d been enjoying a glass of local Moscato, but Makenna had only taken a sip. Until she found out for sure about the baby, she wouldn’t risk alcohol.

But right now she wanted something more potent—him. Makenna took his glass from his hand and set it down. Standing up slowly, she walked to the door. It took a lot of courage, but she turned, giving him a heated glance. “Titan, I can’t wait any longer. I need you. In bed. Now.” Then, she just turned and walked to his room.

Titan didn’t delay long, only enough to come to his senses. He sprang from the couch, bounded up the stairs, kicked the door closed and ripped off his shirt in one mighty move. Makenna’s eyes widened, not only at all the muscle he’d exposed but because he was stalking her across the room like a great big cat. When he reached her, she kissed him right over his heart but eased away when he tried to catch her hand. “No, I want a chance to just…look at you.” Slowly, she started to circle him. “I’ve watched you, wanted you for so long. The day of the calendar shoot, I stood at the back of the room…and my panties got wet from looking at you. Just you. The only sex in my life that counted was what I’ve had with you.”

Titan went still. This was the sexiest damn thing he’d ever experienced. “You like looking at me about half as much as I enjoy looking at you.” But he wasn’t crazy. If Titan could make her a little crazier for him, he would. After all, he figured it would pay off—in bed. He tried to make it look natural, but he stretched a little, moved his body and flexed a muscle or two.

When Makenna came to his back, she gave in, using both hands to caress him from neck to arms, planting a kiss as high on his back as she could reach. And then she paused to skim her night shirt over her head, leaned in and rubbed on him, brushing her stiff hungry nipples back and forth across his back. As her face was pressed to his skin, she felt his chest rumble from a deep-throated growl. Wrapping her arms around him, she pressed against him, her hands beginning to move. “I want to be as close to you as I can get.”

Titan thought he could be still. He tried. Those small, soft hands of hers crept up from his waist and covered his pecs, rubbing, the palms caressing his nipples. He looked down. His cock was trying to push out of his pants. “You’re teasing the beast, baby.”

Makenna smiled against his skin. What was amazing about all of this was that he was powerful, a male animal in his prime. He could hurt her if he wanted to, but she had no fear whatsoever. Titan would cut off his arm before he would harm one hair on her head. “You’re so sexy, Titan. I’m wet for you.”

She didn’t make it around to his front by herself, she had help. He pulled her around, lunged at her mouth, taking both of her breasts in his hands. As he ravished her mouth, Titan tugged on her nipples. She arched against him, sliding one hand up his chest to encircle his neck. His mouth slid off of hers, spreading a trail of hot kisses over her throat and collarbone. She followed his lead, licking and kissing his throat, then his jaw. Her spare hand wasn’t idle, she teased his nipple, lightly scoring it with her fingernails. “Enough, babe, I’m dying.” With one easy move, he picked her up and carried her to the bed.

“Now the pants, cowboy.” She lay there, spread out and ready for him.

He wasted no time or movement, losing the jeans as fast as he’d lost the shirt. “Better?” He knew his cock was appreciative, it had been living in cramped quarters.

“Come lie on top of me. I need to feel your weight.” This she wouldn’t try to explain, but the sheer bulk of him on top of her made Makenna feel sheltered, enveloped—enclosed. No one could touch her when he stood between her and the world.

“Give me that mouth,” he growled, nipping her bottom lip, eating at her lips. Makenna reveled in his lust, clinging to him and kissing him back just as feverishly. When he pulled away, she thought she’d weep, but he moved down her body, ending up at her feet. Picking up one leg, he caressed the arch, kissing a path from ankle to knee. “Roll over.”

Makenna turned over so quickly, she hoped she preserved some sense of grace. She was so excited. Her arousal was flowing down the inside of her thigh.

“Up on your knees, face in the pillow.”

About two seconds after she’d done as he asked, she felt his mouth against her pussy. “Oh, yes, God, yes.” Not being able to see what he was doing just made it more intense. A lick from his talented tongue made her groan and when he spread her open with his fingers and buried his face in her sex she thought she’d black out. Makenna perched her ass in the air, pushing back, pressing her pussy into his face.

After that, all she could do was hang onto the sheet, because he made it his personal mission to make her scream—and he was very successful. Makenna came so hard she bit a hole in his pillowcase.

Titan couldn’t believe the sight before him. He’d hit the damn love jackpot. There was no sexier woman in the world. For him, she was it. Taking his engorged cock in hand, he fit himself into her cleft, sliding in her cream before pulling back and pushing the head into her opening ever so slowly.

Makenna almost said something about a condom, but she was weak. She was addicted to the feel of him. If something happened, it was on her. She wanted him, she couldn’t deny it. She wanted him forever. So, wanting his child was a natural extension. “More,” she whimpered and he worked his way in halfway. When he pulled back to thrust in, she countered his move, impaling herself on his big cock.

“Mercy!” he bellowed, as his body shook with the need to explode. “Hold on, I can’t stop now.” Grabbing her hips, he began to fuck her hard, covering her back, kissing her neck, grazing the soft flesh with his teeth. When she tightened down around him, milking his cock, Titan saw stars.

Taking her hips in his hands, he held her right where he needed her. Make no mistake about it, he might be on top, but she was calling the shots. At any time, if she gave any hint that she wanted him to let up, to stop, he’d cease and desist. Instead, she begged for him, “More, Ti, harder, more!”

Giving her what she needed, Titan hammered into her. Her little channel caressed him, milked him, burned him with her hunger. “Come for me, baby, I need you so much.” He slid his hands around to her front, one grasping a quivering globe, the other delving between her legs to find her clit.

Titan didn’t know if it was his words or his touch, but she bloomed for him, her body responding in the age-old way of a woman surrendering to a man. With a sexy cry, she came all over him, the pulsing spasms of her channel pushing him over the cliff—a stampede of sensation that kept his cock moving in and out of her long after the clasps of her pussy muscles had milked him of every drop.

Pulling out, he wrapped an arm around her and took her with him, him landing on his back and her spread on top of him like jam on toast. “Did I satisfy you, my Makenna?”

“Completely.” She sighed, relaxing fully against him. “Completely.”

They Shouldn't Let People Like Me Out Of The House

I got a new car! Yes! No, I didn’t get the Batman Corvette Stingray. While I was shopping for it, the young athletic man who was selling it to me got in the car to demonstrate all of its bells and whistles and when he finished, he almost was not able to get out of it. The car sits on the ground, you see. He pulled and strained and spread his legs and yanked on the steering wheel and finally managed to push/pull his way out of the car. I knew then, it wasn’t for me. I am too clumsy to own a car that you have to roll out of – — so I went another direction. Still, a snazzy car – a BMW 750LI  – – dark, dark graphite with saddle interior. So, on the way home, there was a lot of traffic. I live off of 360 in Austin and rush hour is way crowded. This particular day as I was coming off 183 from the dealership with my brand new car, there had been two fender-benders and I was creeping. It wasn’t so bad, I was playing with buttons and looking at the wood grain on the dash and finagling with the seat controls. And then it happened… I was sitting in traffic behind another car waiting to move my requisite four inches when my car just died! I mean there was no engine sound, no air sound – I was sitting in a new, dead, one-hundred grand, brand spanking new car on the crowded freeway and I didn’t even know how to turn on the dang car phone yet! What am I to do? I was startled, scared, and PO’ed to the inth degree. But – – – the car moved ahead of me, I lifted my foot off the brake and my car started back up. WTF?

That was just the beginning of adventures with my new car. I have named him – his name is Victor. For some reason the car reminds me of Victor Newman from the Young and the Restless. What can I say? My car has this attitude. I almost don’t feel good enough for him, I think when I’m not looking he turns his grill up at me. Anyway, a couple of days after I got Victor home, I finished TEXAS WILDFIRE and got it off to the editors. I then decided to take a working break and travel to one of the settings of my next book, a HELL YEAH!, IF I CAN DREAM – Tennessee and Molly’s story. He’s a tracker and I wanted him to meet her in Big Bend Country. So, Victor and I packed up and headed off way down south, about six hours from Austin on the Rio Grande, the border between Texas and Mexico.

Victor likes to be in control. He has this overhead display in the windshield, this hologram thing that tells me if I’m going too fast. If I get too close to the car in front of me, Victor slows down. If I get near the right-of-way or stray too near the lane beside me, Victor shakes his steering wheel at me. If I travel too many hours without stopping, Victor announces on the screen that we need to take a break and gives me options listed for places to stop. I’m afraid to argue, Victor is bigger than me.

And I have to watch Victor, he’s a tease. Let me tell you what he did…

Now for those of you who don’t know Big Bend National Park – it’s gorgeous – it’s intimidating – it’s remote as hell! You don’t just accidentally go there, you have to drive to the ends of the earth to get there. That’s why it is the least visited national park in the US, where places like the Grand Canyon or Yellowstone get five million visitors a year, Big Bend gets three hundred thousand. But for those willing to make the drive, it’s worth it.

I checked into this unique ritzy/rustic restored Old West hotel that now has a luxury spa, an outstanding restaurant and all of the nice amenities you can think of – – – BUT it had a low flow shower, no TV, and you couldn’t lower the thermostat beyond 70 degrees. For someone who is used to sleeping at 63 degrees, that’s hot. Hell, I had to buy a fan to blow on me and the dogs. And speaking of dogs, these animals had the full back seat to themselves – let me show you. And were they satisfied? NO! Everybody wanted in the front seat. And you’ve never lived until you have tried to drive around hair-pin tight mountain curves with drop offs of thousands of feet with two dachshunds standing on your lap trying to peer over the steering wheel. And Mojo decided to whine about everything – it was too cold, too hot, the window was too high, he needed to poop, he was bored – haha – Abby Grace is a better traveler.

And now for the reason I wrote this blog post. Are you ready? Now you will know why I write books. I have this out of control imagination!!!

Let me set the stage… There are only two ways into Big Bend – Highway 385 and Highway 118. And we’re talking remote here. Remote as in miles and miles of the Chihuahuan Desert. This is the type of country you see on television where the man is dragging himself through the sand and cactus with his tongue hanging out. I mean people die here! The main causes of death in the park is not bears or mountain lions – of which there are both! It’s dehydration and hypothermia. So, you do not want to break down. There is no cell phone service. But what you do have in plenteous supply is border patrol.

Now, let me stop here before you get your hackles up one way or the other. I am a Texan and we have a border with Mexico which is a bone of contention for the whole nation. Both of the nations involved in fact. And you know I am sympathetic to all concerned. If you’ve read THUNDERBIRD about the sexy Kyle Chancellor and his Hannah, you’ll remember Hannah was an undocumented immigrant (engaged to the conservative candidate for the Texas Governorship – – yep, that was quite a story) ANYWAY, I do not sit in judgement. But what you need to know is there is no wall at this part of the border. The river can be waded across here. But why would you do it? To get to the border from Mexico at this point, one would have had to cross miles and miles of inhospitable desert, only to cross the tiny band of water and face another stretch of miles and miles of inhospitable desert and mountains. There are better places to cross.

Regardless, there was a border patrol station that one has to pass on the way in and out of the park. In fact they have one lane of traffic blocked off so that can inspect each and every car. They don’t inspect you going in, they stop you coming out. So, here we go. Victor and I pass the first border patrol station and enter the park. It was fairly intimidating. All of these white trucks and vans and cameras set up on both sides of the road. I smiled and waved as I entered. Started to say, Yes, I’m Sable Hunter. I write erotic romance, so many of you are so handsome and ripped – may I take your picture? But I didn’t. I behaved. We drove on in the park and the scenery hit me between the eyes – WHAM! Mountains and gullies and hills and cactus and brilliant venues on every side. I was in awe! And of course there were planes and helicopters every once in a while. I suppose they were looking for poor souls trying to enter the country, traversing this hostile landscape. IN OTHER WORDS, if you don’t realize it by now – My imagination was working overtime and I was really in the midst of my own Sable Hunter book or maybe a Quentin Tarantino movie.

Despite the Homeland Security hoopla there was no traffic. I might as well have been the only person on the face of the earth. I was surrounded by beauty, two dogs and a cranky car. So, I decided to take pictures. Now, there was no place to pull over, so I just stopped in the road to get out and take a picture of this looming mountain with enough foothills to mimic bubble-wrap. And when I did, I heard it – the far-off wail of a siren. Imagine it. It was like you’re in your home and you hear an ambulance and a police car in the distance, you wonder what’s going wrong. My mind went into high gear – sirens! And then I realized it was probably an intimidation factor. If anyone were trying to traverse this desert, the sound of the sirens would have them worried and looking over their shoulder at every opportunity. It made me feel funny. As I stepped away from the car, I forgot about the siren, I was too entranced with the beauty in front of me, but I did notice a strange silver disc on a pole in the distance – and I thought, Yea, they have installed speakers in the desert to transmit siren noises like they used to pump loud rock music at the drug-lord Noriega’s stronghold trying to drive him crazy enough to surrender.

Do you see how my mind works?

Anyway, back to my story. I went deeper into the park and every time I got out of the car to take a photo or inspect an exhibit, I heard the distant sirens. Once I was away from the car, I’d sorta forget about them. But I heard them over and over again. I started trying to figure out a way to incorporate the sirens into my story – the method didn’t come to me right away, but I knew it would. When I stopped for pamphlets at Panther Junction, where there was a smidge of internet, I even googled ‘Sirens in the desert’, ‘Sirens on the border’, ‘Sirens in Big Bend’. But you know what? I found Nothing. Nada!

Oh well, I went on. More gorgeous scenery. More magnificent cliffs and hills and drop offs and desert. I have pictures!

As I drove, my mind worked and I kept taking pictures. The sirens seemed to follow me as I drove the hours and hours through the park. And then like a ray of sunshine, clarity finally came.

The only time I heard the distant sirens was when I was getting out of Victor. When I would step away, the sirens faded to nothing. To my absolute amazement, horror, chagrin – what have you, I realized VICTOR WAS MAKING THE SIREN NOISE! Every time I would get up out of the seat, the balance or air flow or suspension would readjust. I guess my butt was just big enough to make it go through this redistribution of air, making this noise that mimicked the sirens used to warn the people of London that Hitler was about to drop a bomb!

Yes, I embarrassed myself. What if I had actually asked someone about it? As expected, I was stopped by the border patrol on my way out. Two rather handsome young men and their K-9 companion inspected my new car with its big back seat and bigger trunk to see if I had stuffed it full of hapless, helpless immigrants. After all, they probably know I’m on the constant look-out for cover models and if I could pick up a couple of tall dark and handsome ones strolling through the desert, I might be tempted. But what if I had asked? “Pardon me sirs, can you tell me about the sirens sounding in the desert?” And batted my eyes at them. They would have known I was as crazy as I look!

Ah well, now you know the rest of the story.

They shouldn’t let people like me out of the house.

Victor, the smart-ass, laughed all the way back to Austin.

TEXAS WILDFIRE--- Sable Hunter

TEXAS WILDFIRE AND A CONTEST – SABLE HUNTER

BY SABLE HUNTER – – Cowboys and firemen are both special breeds of men. Sexy. Strong. Put them together and what do you have? A hot-as-hell hero, one that will make you burn! 12-Alarm Cowboys is a boxset which includes a dozen smoking hot stories of cowboys who also brave the flames to come to the aid of those in need. These all new novels are penned by twelve New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors. For 99 cents, this is a steal of a deal. My contribution to this sizzling collection is called TEXAS WILDFIRE and here’s the cover.
I chose to set my story near to where I live, but I wanted some place special… and different. Compared to where I was born and raised, Austin is big-city living for me. I’m a small town girl and as I told you all in a recent blog I wrote about my friend, Jerry, the fire department that I used to help with was all volunteer. So, when I was hunting a locale to set my book, I decided to head west into the more rural part of the Hill Country and I found the perfect place – the Devil’s Backbone. It sits between Wimberley and Blanco and is just the kind of setting I like. It’s rugged, scenic and mysterious. This is how it looks.

There’s a serpentine ridge of the Balcones Fault which has reared its head up from the surrounding limestone, creating a high rocky spine that is graced on every side by tree-covered hills and valleys. Canyon Lake, the Blanco River and the Guadalupe cut through, dotting the landscape with vibrant blue. The trees are juniper and scrub oak, giving the area a particularly wild appearance. Not too many weeks ago, there was a devastating flash flood which crashed through, causing the Blanco River to rise 40 feet in just hours, sweeping homes away and uprooting trees, downing bridges and bringing devastation and destruction to many. I decided to write that into the opening scenes of my book, showing how the first responders were called upon to help their community. This area is also known for its wildfires, fueled by heat and drought, they can be sustained and heightened by the dry grass and the sap from the evergreen cedars and junipers which can be as flammable as turpentine. Not too many years ago, there was an outbreak of wildfires in the area, so what I’ve written is not only possible – but probable.

Another amazing thing about the Devil’s Backbone I discovered accidentally. One of my favorite movies was called that – the Devil’s Backbone – and it was a ghost story set in Spain during WWII about the orphans and the death of one of them and how he haunted the place. One day while browsing on Netflix, I saw the title, The Devil’s Backbone, and I clicked on it. What I found was not what I expected. This movie was called The Devil’s Backbone – Texas. I was intrigued and then amazed. The area they were talking about was at my backdoor, about thirty miles to the west. The story behind the movie, which was filmed in the same vein as The Blair Witch Project, was about this man and his family who were researching the death of their father, Bert Wall. Of course it was fictionalized to a degree, but Bert Wall was a real person from Wimberley who bought land there after divorcing his wife. It was sad. But the really intriguing part was that he wrote ghost stories about the Devil’s Backbone and these stories were not penned as fiction, but told as fact. The movie was a retelling of some of them and the family going back to the house and finding out there was something to the tales. I won’t spoil it for you. I don’t think it got great reviews, but it was low budget and fascinated me because it was filmed locally and introduced me to a whole new set of paranormal stories I could investigate to include in my books – which I did.



There’s the tale of a ghostly herd of horses whose hoof beats come right upon you in the dark, but there’s nothing there. There’s the story of a ghostly Confederate army brigade, still riding through the mists in search of the war. Pioneers and Indians have been seen – all in all, it was a SABLE HUNTER paradise, I tell you! TEXAS WILDFIRE isn’t a paranormal story, not by any means, but I did add a few tales for flavor and for atmosphere and because it makes me happy, I guess.

The main theme of Texas Wildfire is a man who loves a woman unconditionally. He longs for her, he lives for her, he dreams of her. The only problem is that she’s married to someone else – in this case, his Captain in the VFD. One day, Titan (look at that cover, look at those arms – isn’t that a perfect name? – ha!) finds out that Makenna is being abused by her husband – and all hell breaks loose. The story is their journey to one another and how they have to battle this man who not only abuses his wife but the trust his community has placed in him. Our hero saves the day – of course, but he battles hatred, unfairness and even her fears along with the hellish flames of the Wildfire.

I’ve woven hot sex into the story, as always. I do that to make me happy as well as you. This boxset is up for preorder right now. It will be for sale in early August, the 11th, I think. The authors who are with me are all fantastic. I am the least of these and it is an honor to be included.

I think you’ll like Titan, he’s my kind of man – powerful, gentle, loving and oh so damn lickable.

Here’s a scene, a sexy one, for your reading pleasure from TEXAS WILDFIRE  – – don’t forget how the collection looks – its up for preorder on amazon –



Makenna could see the charred undergrowth. How could they fight such a big fire? On the way, she’d heard Titan put out the call for area help and as soon as they were parked, she could hear more sirens in the distance. The sound made her feel better, she wanted every precaution taken. Putting out the fire was important, but the safety of the firefighters was paramount also.

“You stay here, well out of the way,” Titan warned her, unrolling the hose. She gave him a smile, fully intending to follow his edict. There was a difference between orders given out of love and those given out of a need for control.

Climbing on the truck so she could see, Makenna watched their progress. The men used a combination of water and foam to fight the fire. Maverick climbed aboard the dozer and used the plow attachment to dig a ditch around the perimeter so the flames couldn’t advance. Even from the distance she stood, Makenna could feel the heat and her heart clenched knowing those men were right on top of it. She always worried about them, but being here and watching made her realize she’d never really understood what they went through to battle fires. When the mutual aid trucks arrived from neighboring communities, Makenna breathed a sigh of relief.

To help, she kept water ready, running to carry it to any man who neared. Keeping them hydrated was necessary and the least she could do. Whenever possible her eye was on Titan. The fire was fueled by rising winds and drought dried grass. Part of her wondered why they just didn’t plow the barrier and let it burn itself out, but she’d heard them discuss things like this at the meetings. People’s homes and properties were endangered, wildlife and nature were at risk. Controlled burns were one thing, but this was not that – this grass fire was dangerous and out-of-control.

At one point, things were looking up…until a call was received. There was another fire, a similar one about five miles south. Now, their resources had to be split.

Feeling helpless, Makenna watched the brave men fight, then go on to fight some more. She watched Titan like a hawk, nervous that fatigue would jeopardize his safety. After hours of heat, smoke and back-breaking labor, he was going to be dead on his feet. And all she could do was watch and worry.

When it was all over, the sun was down and the moon had risen. Fire had ate up the day and several dozen acres. The Fire Marshal was on the scene with Titan trying to determine the cause of the fires. They located the origin of the blaze but any evidence of how it was ignited had been destroyed. One thing was certain, however. The fires weren’t natural – someone or something had started them.

Arson.

Makenna was glad she was with Titan. He was big and he was strong, but even he had limits. To think he might have had to go home alone, if she hadn’t been there with him was almost unthinkable. Once they were back at Skyview, Makenna pampered him. She fed him and after he showered, she tended minor burns and scrapes. And then she took him to bed. He was exhausted, but at least he was safe. So, she held him tight until morning broke.

***

Titan was restless. Tossing and turning, he seemed to fight the flames even in his sleep. Makenna watched over him. For most of the night, she kept her hand on him, wanting the connection as much for herself as for him. She felt no need to abandon the bed for the floor, rather she served as his guardian angel while he slept. Before dawn she dropped off, only to awaken with her head resting on his outstretched arm.

Studying his face, Makenna felt an overwhelming tenderness. He was such a good man. He groaned, bending one leg and shifting his body. When he did, she saw that he was erect. Awareness tingled through her pussy. He was big…bigger than…

Makenna refused to finish the thought.

Titan would never hurt her.

Yes, she was nervous. Sex for her had always been something to dread, just an act not a celebration. She never expected pleasure and usually received pain, for there had been no arousal and no affection. But this…this was something else entirely. Just lying next to Titan had her breasts throbbing, her nipples were pebbled so tight they ached. Makenna wanted him to the depth and breadth of her soul. She’d survived life with Damien by escaping in her mind to be with this man.

And here she was in the bed with him, wasting time by being afraid.

How silly was that?

Edging over next to him, she lightly placed her hand on his chest and waited. He didn’t move, he was still sound asleep. “Cowgirl up, Makenna, you can do this. You’ve rehearsed it a million times in your dreams,” she whispered to herself. Strategizing her moves, she eased over and touched her lips to his broad chest, sprinkling butterfly kisses over his skin. Her hand slid gently south, tracing his abs. Encountering the sheet, she slipped her fingers beneath it and tentatively continued her downward approach. Radiant waves of arousal surged through her body, making her clit swell and her skin flush with heat.

Would he welcome her? Every indication he’d given her told her he would.

Soft touch. Tender lips. His cock straining to greet the caresses that were coming so close to where he craved them to be. At first Titan thought this was another of his dreams about her. But when he opened his eyes, it was to find her kissing him, touching him – Makenna was making love to him.

Maybe if she hadn’t been so into what she was doing, his swift intake of breath and the tensing of his muscles might have clued Makenna into the fact that Titan was wide-awake and fully engaged. But she was busy with open-mouthed kisses on one flat male nipple and her fingertips brushing the very tip of his hungry cock.

“Morning, beautiful.”

Whoa! Her head jerked up, her hand jerked back and a surprised look came over her face like a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“Oh, hi.”

Titan was thrilled. He wanted her so much, he’d been afraid he would let his desire override his restraint. Erring on the side of caution was preferable than making her uncomfortable. But now…now she was about to…take matters into her own hands.  “Please don’t stop.”

The almost desperate expression on his face obliterated any hesitancy she might have had. Sharing a bed with someone she didn’t fear was fun. “You have morning wood.”

Her slightly naughty comment took him by surprise. “I’m in bed with the sexiest woman in the world. Of course, I’m hard.” He ran his fingers through her hair, loving the freedom to touch her. “What should we do about it?”

“I was taught waste not, want not.” With a mischievous grin, she answered matter-of-factly, her questing fingers inching a few millimeters lower.

Jerking back the sheet and shucking his shorts, Titan invited her to do what she willed. “Far be it from me to contribute to an erection shortage.”

Makenna gasped. “There’s nothing short about your erection.” Quickly her eyes darted back to his, needing to remember who she was with.

Seeing her apprehension, Titan came over her, sheltering her body with his own. “You know I’d never hurt you. Never.” Cupping her face, he caressed her cheek with his thumb. “You don’t ever have to fear me. What you can expect from me is not pain, but pleasure.”

“I know.” She could feel the length of him pressing against her hip.

“You’re made for me. Never doubt it. You’ll fit me like a glove.” Makenna was holding him tightly, her palm flat on his pec, her fingers flexing and kneading like a little cat. Titan dropped his mouth to hers and claimed the kiss he’d been dying for.

“Titan, I want…” She gave herself over to him, allowing him to slip his tongue inside and taste her sweetness.

He was wound so tight, he had to fight to keep from revving the kiss up, but he knew she needed and deserved his patience. So for now, Makenna was in charge. Whatever she wanted, she’d get. They’d only go as far or as fast as she wanted to go. “What do you want, baby? Soon I’m going to take you in every way imaginable and you’re going to love every one of them. But for now, I just long to make you happy.”

“I want to touch you.”

Her breathy request almost made his heart stop. “Please do – however, wherever…”

When she pushed on his chest to get him back in a prone position, he followed her every direction. “Lie down and let me make you feel good.”

“I’m a ladies’ first kind of guy,” Titan protested.

“This is easier for me,” she whispered. “Let me do this for you.” Lying beside him with her head on his shoulder, her left leg hooked over his, the delicate weight of her body felt like heaven. She took him in hand, all nine inches and began to stroke up and down, and all he could do was close his eyes and enjoy.

At first, she kissed his neck and his chest while she fisted his manhood. Titan wasn’t still, every muscle was reacting to the hand-job she so willingly gave him. His breathing quickened, his heart hammered, and within the grasp of her palm, his cock swelled. Soon, she had to watch, needing to see how he looked as she jacked him off.

It was an incredible sight. He was so thick, she couldn’t reach all the way around. And he was hard as steel, yet the skin stretched over all of that rock-hard flesh was as soft as velvet. Makenna was amazed at the life she held in her grasp. He was so powerful, so commanding – yet here she held all of that primal maleness in the palm of her hand. Titan was totally at her mercy, open, unguarded and she wanted to be worthy of that trust. Between her legs, her sex throbbed and she could no more keep from pushing her hot core against his leg than she could stop breathing.

“Makenna, baby,” Titan moaned, feeling his hips buck helplessly.

He sought her lips and she kissed him, then decided it was time she kissed him somewhere else. With one last sweet layering of her mouth over his, she rose, and with the seductive look of Eve on her face, she went down on him.

Taking it slow, she licked her way down to his groin. Titan held his breath as she brushed her lips just above the base of his dick. Every cell in his body was begging for her, Titan was insane with need and anticipation. The moment Makenna’s lips circled the tip of his cock, his whole body tightened with ecstasy. Her eyes darted to his, seeming to seek approval. Titan gave it to her. “So good, your mouth is so sweet.” If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never take this for granted. Mesmerized, he ran his fingers through her hair as she took him deeper in a warm wet slide, the suction of her sexy lips was so much better than he’d dreamed. Reality was always better, he guessed. Dreams were only necessary when you couldn’t have the real thing.

And the real thing in this case was fuckin unbelievable.

Each time she bobbed her head, his hips lifted unwilling to give up paradise. She was kneeling between his legs, her fingers clutching his thighs as she drew him in, the tip nudging the back of her throat. Even at that, she couldn’t take him all. But that didn’t keep her from trying.

“So sweet, suck me baby.” Makenna’s eyes closed as she breathed through her nose, swallowing. Titan hissed when he felt her throat muscles kissing his shaft. This was the most exquisite pleasure he’d ever known. She let her lips glide back up again, licking every inch.  “Makenna, my Makenna.” He had to touch her, his hands sought to connect, rubbing her neck and shoulders.

With every bit of strength he had, Titan held still, letting her give to him. This was her gift. There was little doubt how difficult it must’ve been for Makenna to initiate this. And that fact made it all the sweeter for him. He savored the knowledge, letting his body bask in the pleasure. As she sucked and licked, he ached to have her. Titan touched every bit of her he could reach from the side of her neck to the delicate line of her collarbone. Beneath the soft material of the T-shirt, he could see her breasts sway and he lusted for them, wanting to mold and suck his fill. “Makenna, I need you.”

She heard him, for she acknowledged his words with a locking of their eyes. But she didn’t know he meant that he needed to hold her, fill her, please her. Instead, she tried to give more – sucking, licking, moving her hands to grasp his shaft and rub his balls. Titan could feel his orgasm building as she slid her mouth up and down his cock, her tongue teasing the underside. “Fuck, baby, fuck,” he groaned as his climax boiled up, exploding in her mouth. He should’ve warned her, should’ve pulled out – but God, it felt so good.

He arched his back, pushing his head into the pillow and still she didn’t stop, swallowing, sucking, worshiping every inch. Nothing and no one had ever come close to this and to Titan, that was no surprise at all. “I knew,” he whispered. “I knew it would be like this.”

Gently she let him go and sat up, staring at him with a look of wonder on her face. “Did I please you?”

She already knew the answer but he gave it anyway, knowing that her life had been a series of tests, most rigged so she would fail. “More than you’ll ever know.” He held his arms out for her and she came to him, giving him a contented smile. “Can I have you?” he asked, wanting to bestow upon her the same ecstasy she’d given him.

Makenna sank into his arms, commanding her body to calm down. Yes, she wanted him, she ached for him. But she was still afraid of doing something that would mess things up. So, she’d better stop while she was ahead. “Can this be enough for now?”

Titan held her, cradling her to him. “Yes, for now.” He kissed her face, her eyelids, before tenderly taking her mouth. “Know this, though.” He framed her face, making sure she heard every word. “I want you and I intend to show you how good it will be. You’re mine, Makenna.” With that announcement, he rose from the bed and walked across the room naked and her hungry eyes followed his every move.

Thanks for visiting with me.

Sable

NEW RELEASE!!

We all like to think we have a soulmate. Unfortunately for some of us, we miss them, passing unseen like two ships in the night. Revel and Harper were among the lucky ones, they knew without a shadow of a doubt that they were meant for one another. In a perfect world, they would’ve enjoyed a ‘happily ever after’. But this isn’t a perfect world.
Harper is haunted by her past, a past so tragic and so unthinkable that she can’t even imagine confessing it to Revel. And she knows from past experience, that when he learns the shameful truth about her – nothing will be the same. So to protect him, she walks away.
Harper underestimated Revel’s love for her. From the moment she disappeared, he set out to bring her home. Their journey to love is one fraught with ghosts from the past, both real and imagined, and a demon from their present who is intent on making sure she has no future. But those ghosts and demons have never met a hero like Revel Lee. He is determined to give Harper exactly what she needs…until Harper realizes that all she needs is him.

***CONTENT WARNING: This book contains adult language and sexual situations. It is intended for audiences 18+ ONLY***

HOW TO GET LUCKY

Ha! I know what you’re thinking! This is an article on ‘how to get lucky’ by Sable Hunter and I write erotic romance. You’re thinking that I’m talking about sex! Ha! After all, I’m always talking about sex. And while I intensely hope that me and you both ‘get lucky’ as often as possible, that’s not what I’m referring to.

We are nearing St. Patrick’s Day, a holiday associated with four leaf clovers and the color green, both of which are intertwined with the belief and the hope of attracting luck into our lives.

I am not a lucky person, normally. I was never the one picked or never the one who bought the winning ticket. But I was lucky in other ways.

There are some moments in life that define us. Moments remembered because your life can be divided by that moment. You’ll always remember that things happened before or after that pivotal time.

One such moment for me was the day Nana found me lying on my bed bemoaning the fact that nothing ever went my way – the guy I wanted to ask me out didn’t, I’d fallen off my horse into a bed of poison ivy, (ha-ha! Funny now, not funny then) – my home permanent had gone completely berserk and now I looked like I was permanently frightened.

She came up to me and asked me what was wrong. Instead of detailing all of those above unfortunate happenings, I just surmised. “I’m so unlucky! I’m the unluckiest person in the world!”

Then she said something – something I’ll never forget.

She said: “Get up off that bed, girl. You make your own luck in this life. Laying there feeling sorry for yourself won’t bring you a dang thing but bed sores. Figure out what you want and make it happen.

I sat up and wiped my eyes and asked her, “how?”

She smiled and crooked her finger and said, “Let me show you.”

From that moment, I began to learn that luck is not some nebulous possibility, but something we carefully set up to happen in our lives like lining up dominoes – one push and things start to happen – one after the other.

Now, I’m talking about two things here – one is concrete smart-ass planning, knowing what you want and going for it. The other is more mystical. You all know that I believe in the esoteric, the magical, the wonderful intriguing idea that we can connect to the power of the universe and draw things to us. The law of attraction. In other words – good luck isn’t random – IT’S PLANNED!

So, what do you want? On this St. Patrick’s Day when you’re wearing green and pinching good looking guys on the butt – when you’re celebrating with four leaf clovers and drinking green beer. WHAT DO YOU WANT? To be loved? To be rich? To get your book written? To be a best seller? What do you want? Do you know?

Knowing is essential. But once you know, once you have a goal – then you can work toward it.

Let me give you a crash course on getting lucky. Haha – I love to say that.

Okay – Rule No.1 - - memorize this. Whatever you want to accomplish will be made up of two essential ingredients. Good planning and good luck. You can’t let things just happen, you have to put your nose to the grind stone. In my case, you have to write a good book. I put in the hours and the blood, sweat and tears and created a product that was the very best I could do. And I promoted it to the very best of my ability – but then I also know that there are ten thousand other books out there as good as mine – how do I get mine to stand out – beyond a good plot and promoting it to death, what is that other essential ingredient.

That ingredient is luck – the miraculous astounding series of serendipitous happenstances that make people notice me and mine above others. It can’t be planned, it can’t be bought – it can only be WILLED.

In other words – RULE 1 – The first step in controlling your luck is to know that LUCK exists.

Rule No 2 – Position yourself in the flow. You can’t hide your light under a bushel and you can’t just expect the rains of good fortune are going to pour over you if you’re not standing out in the open where it can hit you. In my case, I network, I meet other authors, I interact with my readers, I position myself where the action happens. Now, I don’t go to live events – that’s not my cup of tea, but if its yours, more power to you. Whatever your hope and dream is – if you’re looking for a man, you won’t find him on your couch. If you’re wanting to get rich…. Well, let me tell you a joke to illustrate that point. (A man started praying intently to win the lottery. On his knees, he would beg – “Please Lord, let me win the lottery. I need to win. My family deserves to win. Please! Please! I beg of you!” He waited and nothing happened. Over and over, he prayed and wished and begged. And nothing. FINALLY, the Lord answered and he said – Give me a break! Buy a lottery ticket!) Now, that’s what I’m talking about – GET IN THE FLOW – Do your part and then position yourself through whatever means, be it social media to attract attention to your book, go to a club to find a guy, go to an audition if you want to be an actress - - BUT GO WHERE THE ACTION IS – GET IN THE FLOW! You can’t be in the right place at the right time if you don’t go anywhere.

Rule No. 3 - I wanted to write a book years before I did. Why didn’t I? I was afraid to risk it. I was afraid of being judged, of being criticized. I finally got past that by writing something I wanted to read. I pleased me. And then I figured if I liked it, someone else might to. So, I took a gamble. I risked it. Not a risk that would bankrupt me. But a risk I could live with. But if you aren’t willing to take a risk, you’ll never achieve anything. Risk puts you in the position to win.

Rule No. 4 – Luck has to be wooed. By the very definition of the word, luck is a chance thing. It originates not only within you but from some other source. You might call it religion or you might call it the supernatural – but some realization that other factors or powers or at work is essential in upping your chance of getting ‘lucky’. Now here is where I’m going to elaborate on my own experience. Don’t get me wrong. I work hard. From early to late. I write and I plot and I promote and I have good people who help me. But I also woo luck in the way my Nana taught me to do it. We were always a family who understood the meshing of beliefs. My family was religious – we would go to Mass in the morning but we made mojo bags in the afternoon. I had a great-grandmother who was a midwife, the area healer. Another who read tea leafs. Another who had second-sight. The supernatural was all too natural for me. So, Nana, and others in my family taught me the value of wooing luck. To pray, to wish, to will what you want to come true into existence.

Now here is a photograph of my Irish clover. It’s sitting in a genuine piece of Irish china called Beleek, look at that beautiful mystical shape. I’m keeping this next to the place where I write – ha! – it sure can’t hurt.

Nana taught me how to centralize my wooing of luck, how to condense my willing of events into focus points by using herbs, jewels, candles, colors and oils associated with luck to give me a concrete material reality to hold in my hand. We call it a mojo bag. And you make these mojo or gris-gris to help you with anything from finding love, to drawing money to protect you and to create ‘luck’.

When I make a bag for good luck – there are several good choices. Green is of course applicable. If you’re writing, then orange is for creativity. Gold is for power and that is one that always applies.

Inside the bag I put stones - - jade is excellent for good luck (its green) citrine and aventurine are good if you want your luck to make money. Pink quartz is also an excellent power source.

If you have a buck-eye seed to put in it, you’re even better off.

I also put specific herbs in my bag - - a clover for luck, parsley and basil are good for money, rosemary for power. You can look those up on the internet, they are myriad.

I also have a little talisman, a symbol of femininity – that’s me! I am WOMAN, hear me ROAR.

I also anoint these things with High John the Conqueror oil cause that’s what Nana said fueled my luck.

And I didn’t forget. I also put a little slip of paper in the bag with my wish or intent written on it. When I’m feeling very ambitious, I will burn a green candle or an orange one to help send my wishes to the skies.

Here’s a photo of the bag I made before I made the New York Times and USA Today Best Seller list - - now I’ll be honest. Look at those rules above. I wrote a book – BADASS and I worked hard at it. I did the very best I could. And I networked, I teamed up with other authors and we promoted the hell out of it. And we took a risk – we put it out there. It was not happenstance we WORKED AT IT. But then, luck came into play. On that particular week there were literally thousands and thousands of other good books for sale – hundreds of other boxsets - - loads of talent and worthy people.

But we made it. We were LUCKY.

This mojo bag below might not have done it, but I made it, I wished, I prayed, I willed. And you know what - - it sure didn’t hurt. I GOT LUCKY!

Want some fast luck? Try this recipe - - Pick out a bottle that is either in your lucky color or means something to you – one that will hold more than 3 ounces.

On the first Tuesday after a new moon, as the moon is growing, mix 3 ounces of sunflower oil with 12 drops of cinnamon oil and 12 drops of pure vanilla extract. Stir it 12 times in a clockwise motion and WISH FOR WHAT YOU WANT. Store in the bottle and use that oil to anoint your gems, your candles, your jewelry, anything around you that will keep that luck near.

Lastly, here is my own private special recipe that I drink for good luck – when I’m starting a book, while writing it, while wishing for it to sell well - - here goes.

I start with green tea (get it? Green!) and I make enough for several sippings, so I use 3 cups of green tea. Next, I mix a cup of pomegranate juice. Pomegranates are a very powerful mystical fruit – their seeds are eaten to draw what you want to you, be it love or money. Then I infuse it by the straining ball or a little bag if you don’t have it, with 1 teaspoon of cloves and 1 teaspoon of allspice – both herbs for good luck. Lastly, I sweeten it with honey, a pure substance that is used in many magical sweetening spells when you want to butter up a situation on your behalf. I let it steep for a few hours before I heat and add the honey – I use a tablespoon per cup – cause I need lots of sweetening up.

Now, to get back to business.

Ryan and I are finishing ONE MAN’S TREASURE – a standalone book in the Hell Yeah! series about motorcycle riding, MMA fighting, tattooed military hero hunk JET FOSTER and his Sami. I won’t give away the story line, but its coming along well and will be hot and a tear-jerker with an HEA of course. Here’s a short, fairly clean excerpt - - haha – with all the sex Ryan and I write, it was hard to find a pure spot - - You can look for it before month’s end.

ONE MAN’S TREASURE –

Wait till you see the coral reef.” Jet said as he let down the ladder. “Have you ever snorkeled at all?”

“No, I haven’t, but I’m game,” Sami grinned at him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Following him to the storage bin, she took the mask, the snorkel and fins he offered. As he’d been with all things, Jet was patient as he explained how to use it all.

There was so many things she wanted to tell him, and none of them had a thing to do with snorkeling. It made her sad to think that he’d never know how much she loved him. For now she smiled and followed his lead, wondering why they’d sailed east of Havana, when she’d been expecting him to put her off at the port so she could buy a plane ticket back to Mexico. Sami expected they’d have another heated discussion about where she should or shouldn’t be going, but he didn’t know the whole story and she wasn’t about to ruin their last few hours together by telling him all of her troubles.

Sami had no desire for Jet to learn about her illness, she didn’t want his memory of their time to change or for him to look at her with pity as she told him goodbye.

“Stick close to me,” he instructed as he adjusted her mask. “Now, let’s go!” They dove over the side and once they broke the blue surface, an underwater wonderland awaited. A massive coral reef was laid out like ornamentation in a giant aquarium. At first Sami kept close to Jet, enjoying the fish he pointed out. She recognized some from her many hours of devouring the Discovery Channel – there were blue and yellow angel fish, black and white butterfly fish and an orange damselfish. After she calmed a little, Sami ventured off, darting forward to check out this fish and that one, her excitement making the trips to the top for air something she put off until she was about to pop.

“I love it!” She announced with glee when they surfaced the second time.

“Ready to go back to the boat?” He asked, worrying if she was tired.

“Not on your life!”

The next thing he knew, her delectable bottom bobbed in front of him and he had to resist the urge to pinch it. With a smile, he followed her back down, loving the way she played, the happiness in her eyes. This was a good fish day, they managed to see an octopus, a Caribbean reef squid, a spotted scorpion fish, a porcupine fish and an indigo hamlet. It was a good thing he stayed close, because a wavy movement in the coral alerted him and he spotted a lion fish, a very poisonous specimen lurking in the coral. Grabbing her arm, in pulled her in the opposite direction. There was no danger from it unless she touched it – the very thought made him shake. Then when he saw a school of small fish behaving erratically, Jet expected more trouble and he took her by the hand, pulling her upward as a barracuda swam by. There was no use taking chances.

When they broke the surface, Sami gasped. “I’m not finished! Let’s do it some more.”

            “We’ll do ‘it’ some more, but it won’t be snorkeling. Get your cute butt up that ladder.” He patted her on the ass, loving the entrancing sound of her laughter.

            “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Sami threw her arms around his neck. “I enjoyed that so much!”

            Wanting only to please her, Jet decided to move a little farther down the coast to get away from the danger of the barracuda. “Let’s try a little deeper spot, we’ll put on a light tank and I’ll show you a shipwreck. Would you like that?”

            “Yes!” She was ecstatic. Sharing things with Jet like this was amazing. She listened carefully while he taught her basic breathing instructions for the diving gear.

            “What are we going to see?” Since she wouldn’t be going with him to the San Miguel, this was the next best thing.

            “In 1999, a team of divers investigated the waters around parts of Cuba and located over 400 shipwrecks. This part of the world is a veritable treasure hunter’s paradise. The last time I was down here with Victor, we checked some of them out. What I’m about to show you is one we spotted, but we didn’t get a chance to investigate closely. The likelihood of our finding anything is slim, but you’ll enjoy seeing what’s exposed above the sea floor.”

They didn’t move far, maybe a half mile before he dropped anchor and they were in the water once more. This time instead of a coral reef, there was more open water, seaweed and what looked to be timbers sticking up from the sand. Jet held out his hand and she took it. He was watching her carefully and had leaned close to check the gauges on her breathing apparatus a couple of times. Swimming near, Sami’s eyes bugged to realize she was staring at the skeleton of a ship, a ship that had sailed before the United States became a country.

Jet checked everything out, making sure there were no sharks in the area before turning loose of her hand and letting her swim around. She was a brave little thing, he was surprised to find out how much he enjoyed doing this with her. Never a complaint, she didn’t argue with him, followed directions and her enthusiasm was off the charts. Sami was a pure pleasure to be around – and he wasn’t the least bit prejudice.

With a camera he had attached to his belt, Jet took a few photos for his files. Moving farther into the wreck site, he became absorbed with what he determined was part of the bow protruding from the sand. When something thumped him on the back, Jet jerked, whirling around, halfway expecting to face off a shark. Instead he found Sami, gesturing wildly for him to follow her. What had she found? He swam alongside her, down the length of the wreck to a clump of rocks. When she moved to the bottom, tugging on something half buried, he came closer to investigate. Jet helped her brush aside some sand and what he saw amazed him – it was a Madonna, a statue of the Virgin Mary cast in what he assumed to be solid gold. Holy f…, even thinking the word seemed sacrilegious at the moment. But Christ! He tugged at the piece, it had to be over two foot tall and weigh fifty or so pounds. Giving her a nod, he hefted it up in his arms and followed her to the surface.

As soon as they swam up to the ship, Sami was halfway up the ladder before she hollered back down. “Don’t try to climb with it, I’ll get a rope and you can tie it around her and I’ll hold it till you can pull her up.”

Her plan sounded reasonable. Jet’s heart was pounding so hard that Jet thought it would burst from his chest. When she returned with the rope and jumped back in with him, she kissed him soundly. “Is this good? Will it help you?”

“Baby, you found a true treasure. We’ll have to report it, of course, but this could make you a rich woman.” He slipped the rope around it and tied a secure knot. Looping the rope over a ladder rung, he gave her the end. “Hold on, I’ll pull it right up.” Jet climbed and soon he had both ladies on board, Sami and the Madonna.

Kneeling next to him on the deck, Sami reverently touched the figure. “This is crazy.” She looked up at him. “I don’t want any money, I have everything I need. Whatever you get for it, you and Nemo keep it.”

Jet didn’t understand. “You found it, I didn’t.”

Sami settled by him, her legs crossed beneath her. “You all but pointed me toward it, this is your site. I’m just glad you shared the experience with me.”

Then, he picked up her hand and kissed it. “I’m not saying it makes sense, but I need you on this trip. You’ve turned out to be my lucky charm.”

THERE I WORKED IN SOME LUCK!!!!! – ONE MAN’S TREASURE where Jet Foster finds out what matters most to him.

You can find me on Amazon and at sablehunter.com and on FACEBOOK.

NOW FOR A CONTEST - - -

What are you wishing for? What wish would you whisper as you rubbed a four leaf clover between your fingers? We will pick a random winner and I – I PERSONALLY – will make you a mojo bag appropriate for your wish.

BAM!

Thanks – Sable Hunter

Amazon http://amzn.to/1Bfroca
Tsu http://www.tsu.co/SableHunter
Twitter https://twitter.com/huntersable


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BOOTS BOOKS AND BLISTERS

My concentration is shot to hell these days. I’m not sure if it’s because I have too much to do or if I’m coming down with some degenerative brain disease (this thought comes from the fact that I’ve been watching Private Practice and Grey’s Anatomy every night when I get through writing – this is not a good idea for a hypochondriac to do). Anyway, I started out to write about a custom made boot shop down on South Congress that makes boots by hand for movie stars and singers like Willie Nelson, Lyle Lovett, Jerry Jeff Walker and Jimmi Vaughan. And other famous Austinites like Tommy Lee Jones, etc. I thought it would be cool if I wrote the boot place and its owner Lee Miller into my next book ROGUE – part of The Sons of Dusty Walker series. Let me show you the cover: And it’s going to be good! The series is about four brothers, from different parts of the country (Rogue is from Texas) that have no idea the other brothers exist! They meet in Kansas and find a purpose, a family and LOVE of course! In my book, Rogue loves his boots, he wears this custom made pair and his newly found brothers give him a hard time about them – toward the end of the book, he gives each of them their own pair that have been made especially for them that reflects their own life. Just a minor detail, but I love those little touches!

So today, I drove from west Austin to South Congress just below downtown and LadyBird Lake hunting Texas Traditions,

even told Ryan I was going and the girls that are doing the series with me – – – but guess what? I COULDN’T FIND THE DAMN PLACE! I drove over there, wiggled around, turned around – looked both sides of the street, scoped everything out, I thought. Finally, gave up cause a front was coming and I wanted to get back to the house before the rain came. When I got home, I looked it back up and discovered I drove by it a couple of times, it was just in the back. I didn’t look close enough. Didn’t look in the back! That’s how I ended up dating that guy with no butt! I need to pay more attention.

When I sat back down to figure out what I was going to do, I got to thinking about boots and my life wearing boots and I thought I would just tell you a couple of pitiful Sable stories because then you know how totally weird I am.

When I was wee, my mother desperately tried to make a girly-girl out of me, and I do have some of those tendencies, I’m just not a pure frou-frou. I used to have really long hair, down past my ass long hair and I had it a long time. Just imagine, my mother would put bows in my hair and she would dress me in these frilly dresses that had petticoats underneath them that made them stand out – sorta like little girls wear to pageants but Mother dressed me like that to go to church and the grocery store. I could live with the bows and the petticoats – but that wasn’t all…she would buy these little patent leather shoes and frilly thin socks. Gag! She used to tell me that she would dress me up so pretty and I’d be looking like an ad for a Little Miss Priss magazine and then I would start to cry – – bitter, loud, holding breath, kicking, screaming and Mother would say that I would yell – “It’s all right but the Socksies!!!!!”

So, she’d take them off and I’d pad off barelegged looking like I’d just come out of the cotton field I guess.

That trait, refusing to wear socks of any kind continued…and that’s hard to do when one loves cowboy boots!

I remember one traumatic incident…

Every summer my family had a tradition that we carried forth with an uncle and an aunt and two cousins of mine. We’d go to Six Flags over Texas near Dallas and this was an important day for me. I took my amusement park excursions extremely seriously. And I was hard to control – once they let me through the gate I would run rampant, not stopping to eat or drink or rest – I just wanted to ride as many rides as many times as possible. But one year I didn’t choose my outfit appropriately and I guess Mother wanted to teach me a lesson.

She’d dressed me in this pair of culottes, you know those things that are part skirt, part shorts – skorts maybe and I insisted on my wearing my cowboy boots (sans socks of course) and a pair of bug-eyed sunglasses. From the moment I stepped under that big arch, I attacked the amusement park with the same zeal and energy that I attack everything else. From sunup to sunset, I rampaged, uncaring of how hot it was or how uncomfortable I became – it just didn’t make any difference. At the appointed time, I showed back up at the designated meeting place with my standard speech. “I’m not ready to go! Let’s stay a little longer! Just one more ride! Please!” Now, look at it from my family’s point of view. I was walking spraddle-legged because the material of my skorts had rubbed me raw between my legs. And I was limping cause my cowboy boots that I’d worn without socks had rubbed blisters on my heels. My uncle, God rest his soul, walked up and put his finger through the hole in my sunglasses where my lens used to be because I’d been running so hard and fast trying to squeeze every ounce of this goodtime out of the day that I could, I hadn’t even noticed my glasses were now mere rims with no lenses at all. I must have looked like a retarded raccoon!

Such was Sable’s Vacation when Country came to Town.

While we’re on the subject, let me tell you about the first time I cut my hair. I was young, probably six and my mother went into the hospital to have part of her colon removed due to cancer. I was an only child at the time, good old days, and my father was in charge of my care. He was all thumbs and couldn’t do a thing with my hair… Now, let me digress. I had a boyfriend. Yes, I did. His name was Keith and he lived about a mile from me. I would see him when we would go visit friends of my parents named Bert and Cecil (Bert was the woman). Keith and I would play outside with his dog and he thought I was pretty, he said so. We’d hold hands and take walks and chunk pinecones. Anyway – – – when my dad couldn’t take care of my hair while mother was in the hospital, he took me to the hairdressers and had it cut off. CUT OFF! Honestly, I don’t think I cared. He took the decapitated ponytail tied with a red ribbon to the hospital and my mother cried. Still, didn’t bother me…. But what did bother me was that when I went to see Keith – he didn’t know me! He swore I wasn’t me because my hair was gone. I mean, I had hair, shoulder length bouncy screwy curls but the long Rapaunzel locks were long gone. Another bout of tears! Looking back on it, I’m sure I was better off without Keith – he either only liked me for my looks or used my new-do to get rid of me for some other reason.

During my life, I’ve had an odd relationship with my hair and my footwear – both are symbols of femininity and I’ve never really been traditional about either.

My hair grew back but I didn’t rehook up with Keith. And the boots…well, I always wore boots. My favorite pair was ones I had in college, cream colored with multi-colored stitching. I remember wearing them on a date to the rodeo with white jeans, a purple cowboy shirt and a good looking dude in a cowboy hat. (I still had on no socks, but I think I just pulled my boots off and enjoyed making out in his truck.)

Today, I still have boots, but I’ll have to be truthful – I’m not that into shoes. I don’t own anything over a 100.00 a pair. And those TEXAS TRADITIONS boots? They start at 1000.00 and go up to 8000.00 and they probably wouldn’t let me in the door if they figured I’d wear them with no socks!

Oh well, I never claimed to be normal – – I walk to a different drummer – – or limp – – since I have on no socks with my boots…

RED HOT CAJUN NIGHTS

Red Hot Authors Present Red Hot Cajun Nights Blog Hop February 1 - 7 This Mardi Gras Season, Let the Sinful Good Times Roll! Let your imagination take you all the way to New Orleans for Carnival season as eight sexy romance authors bring you eight fabulous $.99 books to warm your winter.

Our Website: http://redhotauthors.com/red-hot-cajun-nights/
Our Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/RedHotAuthors
BLURB: Cody’s life is defined by two great truths. She is in love…and she has committed a great sin. Cody has been playing with fire and she’s about to get burned. Hungry for attention, she allowed a wonderful man to fall in love with her. Their only contact has been on the internet and telephone conversations. Cody put a good spin on her life by telling half-truths and sending photos of a woman with a beautiful body and a pretty face, only the woman wasn’t Cody. Scarred by abuse, she hides from prying eyes.
Cody loves Hunter enough to let him go. Full of guilt, she is prepared to disappear from his life. Hunter begs to meet her, but she refuses. But if Cody won’t come to him, Hunter will come to Cody. Louisiana is in the midst of Mardi Gras, a time of love, laughter, and letting the good times roll. Masks are worn at Mardi Gras, and the mask Cody wears will hide more than a pretty face.
EXCERPT: “Could we dance?” Sage asked, and Hunter immediately rose, drawing her into his arms.
“Any excuse to hold you is fine with me.” He led her out onto the dance floor where they swayed and twirled. Hunter enjoyed this type of dancing more than the more formal from the night before. But when something began raining on him, he looked up in confusion. “What’s going on?”
“Throws.” She explained with a giggle. “Look, gold coins and beads. Even some candy.”
Hunter helped her pick up a few. When he rose up, she tossed something else at him, which he deftly caught. “What’s this?”
“A key.” She announced with a mysterious smile. “Room 4, upstairs and to your right. We’re staying here tonight. Give me fifteen minutes and join me, I’ll give you a surprise you won’t soon forget.” With that intriguing offer, she gathered up some of their goodies and left him standing there with an open mouth and a hard cock.
Upstairs, Cody hurried to change clothes. She hung up the dress, made sure her hair was okay and used some concealer to try and cover up the scars on her breast and hip. They weren’t nearly as prominent as the one on her face, so she hoped they wouldn’t be noticeable, especially with the lights as dim as she had them. A Victorian style lamp with a shade sat by the bed, casting the room in a rosy glow. Antiques filled the room but it was still comfortable with a huge sleigh bed and a modern bath.
After finishing with the application of makeup, Cody pulled a Mardi Gras T-shirt over her head. She was wearing nothing else.
When she heard the knock at the door, her heart beat harder than Hunter’s fist. “Come in,” she called.
Hunter didn’t know what to expect. He entered the room and was met with a sight right out of his fantasies.
“Throw me somethin’, mister,” Sage shouted. As she did, she lifted her T-shirt, baring two round firm high mounds that he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. “God, you’re perfect,” he said, tossing two or three strands of beads toward her. Sage caught them, stripped off her shirt and slid the beads over her head. Other than that ornate mask he’d come to resent, she was absolutely naked and fuckin’ unbelievable. Hunter’s cock was so strutted, he could barely walk.
“Do you want me?” she asked in a teasing voice.
“Hell, yes,” was all he could manage to say. All the blood in his body had left his brain and was on its way south.
“Come get me.” She crooked her finger, and he followed her to the bed where she lay down on top of the covers like an offering to the gods. “Take your clothes off, I want to look at you.”
Hunter had never undressed so quickly. Even before he climbed on the bed, her hands were reaching out for him. “If I had you in my life, how would I ever leave for work in the mornings?”
Available Now on Amazon: CLICK HERE
Want to win even more prizes? We’re having a huge Mardi Gras Facebook Party on Tuesday, February 17. Click on the link then Join the party to hang out with us on Mardi Gras Day. You know we’re going to have some sinfully awesome giveaways! https://www.facebook.com/events/1401340946828665/
Come and read about our brand new Mardi Gras books as well as every book from each of our Red Hot holiday collections at our website: http://redhotauthors.com/red-hot-cajun-nights/
I will give away, a tote, key chain, koozie and 2 ebooks--choose any one from my current or backlist
To be eligible, give me three words that describe you – The state of your birth, the color of your eyes and the name of your first pet Mine would be – LOUISIANA – BLUE – TIMOTHY JAMES
The contest ends February 7th
Use this Rafflecopter to enter the Grand Prize drawing for: 1) A Kindle 2) A box of paperback books 3) Swag from each author
a Rafflecopter giveaway Now be sure to hop to each of these other Red Hot Authors’ blogs to leave a comment for your chance to win that author’s prizes: Desiree Holt at www.desiremeonly.com Magen McMinimy at http://www.magenmcminimy.com/ Jodi Redford at http://jodiredford.blogspot.com Randi Alexander at http://randialexander.com/blog-3/ Christin Lovell at www.christinlovell.com Rene Folsom at www.renefolsom.com Sable Hunter at http://sablehunter.com/ Shyla Colt at www.shylacoltsstraightshot.wordpress.com

SO MANY COWBOYS SO LITTLE ROPE ��� A STUDY

HowToRopeAMcCoy

Everyone loves their accessories. Where would I be without my computer or my phone or my car? Everyone has things they can’t do without, like my Kurig coffeepot! A Cowboy is the same. He has to have his horse, his truck, his trailer, his saddle, his gun- and his rope. Not a lasso. If you call a rope a lasso in front of a real cowboy, he’ll snicker. Only greenhorns or city folk call a rope a lasso. I don’t know why, and they can’t tell you why – its just the way it is.

Anyway, a rope is not just a rope. To the cowboy, a rope was a necessity. All the way back to the time of the Pharaohs’, rope and roping with a lariat type rope was done. There are relief sculptures in Egypt depicting the Pharaoh with a looped lariat held over his head and then another with it thrown over the horns of a bull. The rope is a necessary tool, so essential to working cattle that if you take away the rope, there would have been no such thing as a cowboy. The rope was so much a part of a cowboy’s life that he treated it as an extension of himself. Any city slicker or country boy could learn how to ride, but learning how to wield a rope was work. The art of roping accurately could take years to master.

Not all ropes were created equally. The material the rope is made from determined what the rope was called. In the far west, the riata was used. Normally, the riata was about sixty foot long and made from rawhide. Texas cowboys used a shorter rope made from manila which was softer and made from fibers of the banana plant woven looser than other ropes. Mexican influence gave the cowboy a rope called a maguey, made from the fibers of the century plant, but it was not a favorite since it tended to be very stiff. Ropes made from horse hair were too light, so cowboys didn’t like to use it for roping. The main use for the horsehair rope was decorative. It made good saddle reins and tie ropes.

The material a rope was made from was not its only distinguishing quality, the length of a rope determined its use. Shorter ropes were used for roping and corral work, like calving or branding while longer ropes were used to catch wild stock out on the range.

Ropes like saddles and boots were best after they were ‘broken in’ – a new rope is of little use. Ropes had to seasoned and stretched. Some techniques of breaking in a rope was to hold it over a fire to burn off the ‘whiskers’. Some would tie one end to a fence post and use their horse to pull on the rope to loosen it up. But once it was stretched, the rope could ‘live’ in the hands of the cowboy. A true roper could make the rope sing, actually making a hissing sound as it sailed through the air.



Besides roping cattle, a less savory use for the rope was for hangings. Countless people were hung in the old west, some by authorities and many by vigilantes or outlaws. Although hanging has been a method of execution since time began, all over the world, it became a symbol of the wildness of the old west. In the days of the cowboy, too many innocent people were lynched or killed before their crimes were judged. Being hanged for cattle rustling or robbery was commonplace. I can remember my grandfather talking about some of their cattle being stolen when he was young – and he was angry, but I don’t think the punishment necessarily fit the crime.

As my mom used to say – I’ve said all of that to say this – one of my mottos is “So many cowboys, so little rope” and while a cowboy and his rope is synonymous as the facts I’ve relayed above shows – that isn’t even close to what I’m referring to. As many of you women knew already, there is a much better use for a cowboy’s rope than taming a steer or meting out justice to a rustler. Hell yeah! Thank goodness. Now, I will admit that even though I’ve lived in Texas for a long time, I’ve never roped a cow. All of my cows came to me willingly in hopes I’d give them a nugget or scratch their ears – but I have led my horse, staked my dogs, I’ve even led a cat on a rope leash. I’ve made macramé, I’ve sectioned off part of my porch to keep people from walking in wet paint. Hmmm, I’ve tied a Christmas tree to my car with a rope and I’ve laid one down in the sincere hope that a snake wouldn’t cross it and crawl in my sleeping bag – BUT – rope can be used as a sensual accessory.

Allow me to elaborate – ha! Please.

Using a rope to restrain your cowboy can be as simple as tying his hands behind his back – although I will admit, I do love for him to have his hands free. And there is some appeal to having that rascal spread-eagle on the bed with his hands and feet tied to the four posts of my bed – – sorta like sitting down to a four course meal – an erotic banquet and you don’t really know how to begin.

There is another type of rope play that turns me on and that’s the Japanese art of Shinju or breast bondage where a rope is wound above and below a woman’s breast to frame and push them outward – erotic play that appeals to me a great deal. And speaking of macramé, the best use of rope I have ever seen went into the making of a sex swing.

Rope as a means of arousal is always a power play – the idea of being at someone’s mercy or having them at yours. While I tend to be dominant outside the bedroom, inside the submissive role is more fun. So the rope is a tool that can be used to illustrate and facilitate the power exchange.

So many cowboys, so little rope. What a thought. I think the idea of tying up a handsome cowboy or being lassoed by one is a much better use for the rope than hogtying some steer – any day of the week.

Thank you for listening to me ramble.