Cheyenne Meadows's Blog, page 26

Sky's Lark now available at Amazon!

When a previous mission comes back to haunt Lark, the sole woman on the Wind Warriors team, she scurries to identify a mole while staying one step ahead of the drug cartel after the bounty on her head.

Bryce, aka Sky, an undercover cop, infiltrates a drug gang in search of a high ranking traitor. Kissing her on a dare, he quickly develops a protective streak for the pretty and spirited Lark. Leaving her warning notes works fine until her identity is breached, sending them both on the run.

Can they learn to trust one another as bad guys rain down upon them? Will Lark finally discover the man of her dreams buried underneath Bryce's deceptive role?


Sky's Lark is now available at Amazon! 
http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=4425449159059831321#editor/target=post;postID=8770389471650429784

Also availabe in kindle and ebook format at Silver Publishing!
https://spsilverpublishing.com/product_book_info/new-release-c-1/products_id/1243/?zenid=b73a0ff4b9d99de5ed55badb94ef5124

Meet the sole female Wind Warrior. Sky's Lark is here!

When a previous mission comes back to haunt Lark, the sole woman on the Wind Warriors team, she scurries to identify a mole while staying one step ahead of the drug cartel after the bounty on her head.

Bryce, aka Sky, an undercover cop, infiltrates a drug gang in search of a high ranking traitor. Kissing her on a dare, he quickly develops a protective streak for the pretty and spirited Lark. Leaving her warning notes works fine until her identity is breached, sending them both on the run.

Can they learn to trust one another as bad guys rain down upon them? Will Lark finally discover the man of her dreams buried underneath Bryce's deceptive role?

Excerpt:

Why am I doing this? Again?

Lark muttered under her breath, mentally chastising herself for accepting this job, once again playing a blonde bimbo with no more on her mind than finding a sugar daddy and latching on to him like a life vest after the boat sank.

Nearly a month ago, she'd turned in her status change with the DEA from full time to as-needed contractual, opting for a new opportunity and direction in her career by becoming a Wind Warrior. The small group, made up of former special ops military personnel, worked in the private sector with contracts to take out the mean and nasties of the world, targets that normal police or even government agencies couldn't touch. Most made their riches in the illegal drug industry and possessed too much money, power, and pull for the authorities to tackle.

That's where the Wind Warriors, who were able to circumvent many legal barriers and regional policies, came in. They held the golden stamp of permission to take care of business in any way they saw fit. Their toy boxes held the latest and greatest gadgets and gizmos, all high-class, military grade, necessary and handy for many of their missions. After all, once one drug kingpin ceased to exist, their entire operation had to be blown to smithereens or another bully would rise to the top, seize control over the already established empire, and never miss a single beat.

Flexibility, excitement, respect, and the ability to make her own decisions. All those qualities had drawn her to the small group. The fact that she rode along and participated in a mission while still employed by the DEA and had a chance to learn the personalities and dynamics had sealed the deal. A raise, freedom to do her job as she wanted, getting to play with brand new weapons only the top ranks of the military owned, and one-tenth of the paperwork. What more could a girl want?

Not to be standing in four-inch stiletto heels with a miniskirt that barely covers the crotch of my panties with the temperature outside hovering around freezing.

She'd hoped by joining the action-packed Wind Warriors, she had traded in her slinky "screw me" undercover persona for wearing black and camouflage and combat boots, and sliding around in the dirt while in stealth mode. Unfortunately, the worst part of her former job returned with a vengeance, landing her in an outfit that set her teeth to grinding and her feet to hurting, and forced her to tolerate wolf whistles, jeers, and more pats on her barely covered rear than a baby went through diapers. Each time, she clamped down on her waning patience, reminding herself if she disconnected the offending hand from its male chauvinist owner, her cover and the mission would be blown. Times were tough and she needed an income, thus she plastered a smile on her face, put a wiggle in her walk, and strode toward the roulette table, her miniscule blouse hanging low enough to give just about anyone a free viewing of her braless cleavage.

"Hey, doll." A robust, sandy-haired man cupped her butt, giving it a squeeze.

"Come to my room. We can see what kind of blow job you can manage."

She growled low, clenching her hands to keep from throttling the guy.

"Lark. The mission. Picking a fight will only drive Santora back into hiding." Night's voice of reason carried through the tiny receiver neatly doubling as an earring.

Glaring at her offender, she altered her route, getting away from temptation before she kneed the guy's balls into his body cavity.

"This job sucks," she grumbled between clenched teeth.

"Just a bit longer, then you can whale into any other man you want," Night, her boss and leader of the Wind Warriors, said.

"How would you like it if a man grabbed your ass while making lewd sounds and suggestions?"

"He would wake up in the hospital wondering what truck ran his ass over." Loco snorted through the communication link. The lone Marine in the group tagged along for backup, or in her opinion, to annoy the crap out of her.

"If you squeezed my ass like it was a ripe melon, that would give me a hard-on." Spoon said in his lighter tone.

She huffed, barely resisting the urge to beat her head against a nearby slot machine. "I better be getting hazard pay for this."

"Get Santora out of there and alone. Then we'll discuss it," Night ordered, essentially dismissing her until she worked her wiles on the drug tycoon target.

Lark released a long breath in an attempt to push out all the frustration and distractions that came with her undercover position. Once refocused, she plastered a "come get me, I'm yours" smile on her face and sauntered up to the table, squeezing in at an angle from where Santora stood with one person between them.

The slim Hispanic man with a short mustache matched perfectly the picture and description given to her earlier in the evening. His dark suit and the large rings on several fingers spoke of his wealth. While not much on appearances with his acne-scarred face and slight build, he possessed enough money and power to control an entire region with a simple command.

He pushed chips into a small square outlined on the green cloth, called out his number, and waited for the small marble to find a momentary home.

The roulette dealer set the ball in motion and a moment later called out a match for Santora's selection. A couple other gamblers grumbled, their faces screwed up in disgust as they took their remaining chips and left.

Lark edged closer. "Wow. Handsome and lucky." She purposely dropped her tone to a sultry purr, using every asset she possessed to catch her target's interest. She trailed the fingers of one hand across her upper chest, drawing attention to the overly exposed cleavage as the slightly taller Latino man looked her way.

His gaze followed her caress and lowered before lifting finally to meet her eyes. "Pretty." His accented English carried easily.

Tucking her chin, she batted her long mascara-covered eyelashes at him, playing the coy beauty ripe for the taking. All the information she'd read on her target indicated he liked total control with no questions, and women who knew how to please without crossing a certain line. Hookers weren't his style. From what they gathered, he shunned women who dressed, acted like, or asked for money in exchange for sex, preferring a loose lady in the market for a sugar daddy. If she happened to be dumb as fruitcake, all the better.

His hand reached out to caress her backside, rubbing and compressing as if testing out the goods before he bought.

Fondled like a frigging ripe cantaloupe in the produce section. She set her back teeth and forced herself to press into his questing hand, pretending she couldn't get enough of his touch. Forcing a small moan from her throat, Lark sidled closer to the man.

Santora's thin lips curved into a wicked smile as his hand delved between her legs, cupping her femininity from behind.

Automatically, she sidestepped, grabbing his wrist but in a deliberately weak hold, as she blinked up at him. "I'm not into performing for voyeurs. Perhaps we could go somewhere to be alone...?" She sweetened the deal with a quick lick over his earlobe and a rub against his crotch.

"You do anything I wish?" he whispered loudly in her ear, over the thump of music in the background. The small dark hairs of his moustache brushed over sensitive skin, irritating rather than enticing her.

"Anything, baby. Anything you want." She brushed her fingers over the bulge in his trousers. "Just you and me, though."

He yanked her to him, covering her lips with his and aggressively shoving his tongue in her mouth.

Lark resisted the urge to fight, instead concentrating on pulling off the best acting performance of her life. Opening her mouth, she submitted to his assault, rubbing herself against him like a cat in heat just begging for attention.

Santora withdrew from her mouth, his respiration accelerated. "Carlos." A taller, bulkier henchman, dressed in a somewhat faded suit that molded to his wide upper body like a second skin, immediately appeared by his side. His bald head completed the intimidating appearance. "Have someone cash out my markers then get the car. Now!" He wrapped one arm around her waist and guided her along.
With a nod, the guard led the way from the main floor of the casino to a side door, simply nodding at the security man who blocked the exit. The door opened before them just as a black stretch limo drove up.

Lark's mind whirled with possibilities while she tried to tamp down the horrible dread and doom that shadowed any decision to get into the car with a known killer. Once inside a vehicle most victims were never seen alive again. She shuddered at the thought.

"Cold, baby?"

She nodded, leaning closer to him. "It's freezing." Well, at least that was the truth. Goose bumps erupted all over her arms and she couldn't quite still the shivers.

"Get in. The car is warm." He opened the door, ushering her toward the spacious seating.

"I know you can warm me fast, make me so hot..." Her gaze flickered from Carlos to the driver. "But I can't with them standing there watching."

Santora's eyes sparked, even as he waved his hand dismissively. "Both of you go," he ordered them in Spanish.

"But, boss..."

"Go. Stand against the wall or something. Just get away from the damned car," he growled the orders as he shoved Lark over and climbed in beside her.

She scooted nearly to the opposite door, wanting to put some space between them, and prayed the Wind Warriors arrived before she had to scrub even more of her body with lye soap to get the feel of his grimy hands off her.

"All alone, baby. Get over here and get to work." He stared at her through dark eyes, his pinched nose flaring with each breath.

With a grin full of promise, Lark scooted closer, taking her time to unbutton his pants, a slow motion that smacked of teasing but related more to buying time than increasing pleasure. Once the fly flopped open, she tugged downward on his boxers. Santora lifted his hips, allowing her to shuck his clothing enough to sit back down butt naked with his pants around his knees while his shirt and jacket still covered his top half.

"Very nice," she purred, using her short nails to tease the hairs on his legs as she moved closer and closer to his erection.

He slumped in his seat, allowing her more room and access to his sensitive parts. "I don't like women that tease." The warning vibrated from his throat while his eyes snapped in annoyance.

He asked for it. With a mental shrug, she plunged her hand between his legs, wrapped around his scrotum, and squeezed for all she was worth. He screamed and writhed, unable to jar loose her strong grip.

Both doors of the limo flew open at once; men dressed in black with guns at the ready stuck their heads in. In a flurry of motion, they dragged him out of the car, threw him on the ground, and hog-tied him in record time.

Available at Silver Publishing:
https://spsilverpublishing.com/product_book_info/new-release-c-1/products_id/1243/?zenid=aca77ce36b0a926f4b1c2d1885e51522


http://cheyennemeadows.blogspot.com/

Sky's Lark releases tomorrow!

Sky's Lark releases tomorrow from Silver!

When a previous mission comes back to haunt Lark, the sole woman on the Wind Warriors team, she scurries to identify a mole while staying one step ahead of the drug cartel after the bounty on her head.

Bryce, aka Sky, an undercover cop, infiltrates a drug gang in search of a high ranking traitor. Kissing her on a dare, he quickly develops a protective streak for the pretty and spirited Lark. Leaving her warning notes works fine until her identity is breached, sending them both on the run.

Can they learn to trust one another as bad guys rain down upon them? Will Lark finally discover the man of her dreams buried underneath Bryce's deceptive role/

Available at:

Silver Publishing:  https://spsilverpublishing.com/product_book_info/coming-soon-c-2/products_id/1243/?zenid=5e93a3dc830064bde7b17e403c4ec095

Tiger's Lily and Loco release in PRINT today!

Both Tiger's Lily and Loco release in PRINT today at Silver Publishing! 

Book one and two of the Wind Warrior series are now available in print today! 

Loco:  https://spsilverpublishing.com/product_book_info/paperbacks-c-83/products_id/1352/?zenid=9114ad26c0f1e70e5eadb76021ccfc3f

Loco lives in the fast lane. A traumatic event in his past haunts him, spurring him to heroic feats that do nothing to satisfy the guilt eating at his gut. Understanding he will die in the line of duty one day, Loco accepts the fact as his due.
Oakley shares the other half of Loco's condominium. Carrying her own emotional scars, she recognizes the man for what he is--intensely brave, devoted, and struggling with inner demons. As they grow closer, she finds her frozen heart thawing and vows to help him into therapy.
Will her gentle ways coax him into receiving the therapy he needs before his luck and amazing abilities fall short on the battleground?

Tiger's Lily:  https://spsilverpublishing.com/product_book_info/paperbacks-c-83/products_id/1351/?zenid=9114ad26c0f1e70e5eadb76021ccfc3f

Lily's peaceful life in a small town vanishes when two men arrive, one carrying a bullet wound. She's nominated for private nursing care in her home and grudgingly accepts despite her uncertainty, but soon finds herself drawn to the scowling Cale.Cale, a.k.a. Tiger, isn't thrilled either, but agrees to the arrangement for his wounded brother's sake. He learned a hard lesson from his deceitful barracuda ex-wife and vows never again. With a handful of revenge-seeking criminals hot on their heels, Cale fights his developing feelings for the tender-natured Lily.Can the brothers survive the upcoming clash while protecting Lily? When they leave, will Lily's fears come true? Will she never see the man she loves again?

An Immovable Solitude by S. A. McAuley

To be released Oct. 27th. 

Available at: 
Silver Publishing:  https://spsilverpublishing.com/product_book_info/coming-soon-c-2/products_id/1222/?zenid=99e5fe7440d968f865bbc78bfe93c3c7

Find S. A. McAuley on
Facebook:  http://www.facebook.com/authorsamcauley

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

Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/author/samcauley

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

Kindlegraph:  http://www.kindlegraph.com/authors/AuthorSAMcAuley

Email:  authorsamcauley@gmail.com

Bio:  Sam sleeps little, reads a lot. Happiest in a foreign country. Twitchy when not mentally in motion. Send her a picture and a song and she’s bound to write a story about it. And yes, that’s an invitation.


Excerpt:

Chapter One
The boat pitched from side to side as the deckhands struggled to lower the rattling cage against the hull. The sky was a cloudless indigo blue, and the stars were beginning to blink out in rings as sunrise pushed past the horizon. The air was unseasonably warm, which lowered the chances of this being a productive trip, but I wasn't going to complain. I loved summers in the Cape.The waters of Van Dyks Bay were generally erratic, consistent in their inconsistency, and there were days I wanted to ignore the weather and wave report and just chance it, setting sail for Dyer Island without planning for what to expect. But this was our boat, our company, and we had a reputation that ensured us a steady stream of tourists."Oy! Hash! We need help securing the lines out here, hey?"Abraham's voice called to me from the stern, where he and two of the deckhands pulled at ropes used to fasten the cage to the side of the boat. The waves were too strong for divers to climb in just yet, but the wind was slowly dying and soon the pitch of the boat would turn to a slow, hypnotic roll. I left the tiny wheelhouse and helped them tie off lines, relishing the salt spray that hit each time the boat bottomed out on a wave.We struggled to secure the cage, and Abraham switched to Afrikaans as we worked. It was my second language, but the mother tongue for most of our crew, and when things became tense, as they did now, the tourists wouldn't understand one word we said to each other. The cage finally settled into the grooves worn into the hull from countless trips, and we fastened it tightly. Behind us, the divers talked nervously with each other, surveying the bay with suspicion, fear, excitement, or a mix of all three. They were already clad in thick wetsuits, masks hung around their necks or gripped tightly in fists. Abraham tugged at the ropes, checking them before turning to me and nodding."Let's give it another ten," I replied to the question he hadn't asked. "I'd like it to be a bit calmer."I stopped to chat up the group of divers on my way to the wheelhouse. We had ten on board today, a full charter. As usual, it was a mix of nationalities and ages: six women and four men on an escorted tour of South Africa. The women today were especially flirtatious, and like any smart captain looking to see his business grow, I took the time to talk with each of them before moving on. Kerry liked to tease me I enjoyed this part of my job a little too much.I wore my usual blue and silver board shorts hung low on my hips, with feet and chest bare. I leant down to speak intimately to the women, my smile flashing, my laugh genuine. My blond hair, just a touch on the long side, fell into my eyes and one of the ladies looked as if she wanted to push it back. I never discouraged it if they tried. I gave my excuses, begging off with the list of duties I had to complete. I pointed at Abraham and told them my boss made me work too hard. Abraham grinned and shook his head; he'd seen this too many times. Yet he still laughed, because both of us knew who the boss really was even though at twenty-seven, I didn't look old enough to have my own company.More importantly Abraham knew I wasn't interested in any of them. No matter how free, easy, or beautiful they were. I had a gorgeous man, my partner in every sense of the word, waiting for me back at our shop.Nothing about me proclaimed my sexuality; I'd never been loud about being gay. Most days, it was the least of what defined me. But I'd never hidden it either. For some, my choice to live with my sexual orientation as secondary, like every straight person had the pleasure of doing, was unsettling. So they made assumptions when it would've been easier to ask. But for most, especially the tourists, I was little more than eye candy. Someone pleasant-looking to flirt with when away from home.The nervous anticipation of the divers relaxed as the winds died and the waves settled the boat into a gentle sway. The sun crested over the mountains to the east, chasing the rest of the stars away. Abraham gave his standard greeting and instructions before the first divers dropped into the cage. The energy of the tourists was palpable, pulling smiles from the tired crew.We'd all been up for hours already, prepping the boat and supplies, and performing equipment checks. This moment―when Abraham, with a twitch of his lips, asked the inevitable question, "Who wants to go first?"―was my second favourite part of the workday. Nervous laughter skittered between the tourists, and Dominick, our videographer, circled them, capturing their reactions for a personalised DVD we would sell to them after the trip. Today, it was an American who stepped forwards, a goofy grin plastered across his face. He immediately put the rest of the tourists at ease as he joked about who would get his wife if he didn't make it out.I leant against the helm and pulled out my cell. A green light blinked at the corner and I flipped it open to read the text.Howzit?I chuckled. Three years after his arrival in South Africa and Kerry still hadn't mastered the basic slang. He'd attempted it enough times that I knew he was asking how the charter was going, but the actual meaning of what he'd asked was "how are you?"Lekker was my one-word reply: Excellent. We both spent so much time dealing with tourists that we usually had to curb the use of slang. But when it was just the two of us, jokes about the differences between his Irish English and my South African English were common.I heard gasps and a scattering of loud curses and knew the first great white had been sighted. I peeked out of the wheelhouse to where the deckhands were tossing a fish head into the water. They dragged it back to the boat, drawing the shark closer to the cage. My cell pinged.I can't drag my ass out of bed.He was lying. I'd heard his footsteps on the wood floors, walking from the bedroom into the shower, as I'd left early this morning. He would be in the shop now, hunched over his desk, coffee cup in hand, his black hair most likely dishevelled from running his fingers through it while he reconciled the monthly accounts. His work today wouldn't be complicated, he was too organised for that, but it would be tedious and that drove Kerry mad. He needed to be constantly entertained, and I favoured the days I spent discovering new ways to keep him occupied and interested.It's right where I want it, hey? I texted back.The tourist group was all smiles now, enthralled with the gigantic beast cutting lazily through the water around them. Selling the DVDs was going to be easy today. Abraham and the deckhands had the divers taken care of, the water had calmed to a leisurely roll, and the heat from the sun was tempered by a gentle breeze from the south. Newborn seal pups barked from the island off our bow. It was the birth of these young that had attracted the great whites back to Dyer Island and Van Dyks Bay despite the warmer waters, driving larger tourist groups our way to the point where we'd added a second boat and hoped to receive government approval for a third next year.If you don't want your books to balance this month, Erik Hash was his response.He was using my full name. Not a good sign. I typed back Frustrated already?He replied before I could look up I'd rather be on the boat.I let out a low whistle. If he wanted to be on the boat more than in the shop, that meant he was more than frustrated. Kerry hated the sharks as much as I loved them. I'd met him three years ago when he'd walked onto my uncle's boat with his sister, Kelle, in tow, and I knew then I would do anything to have him. It took me one day to get him into my bed, but almost a year before I knew he loved me as much as I loved him. Kerry and Kelle were only supposed to stay in the Cape for a week, and then move on to Durban, over to Johannesburg, and eventually into Botswana. After our first night together, Kerry decided not to leave Van Dyks Bay and Kelle reluctantly stayed on.Worry lines creased my forehead as I tried to formulate a response. Kerry had been more distant than usual the last couple of days. I didn't expect him to be overtly emotional anytime; it just wasn't him. He was reserved, calm, and introverted, the opposite of me, but lately he'd been more withdrawn than usual. I knew he was joking when he said he would rather be on the boat, but I read the underlying annoyance in that statement and I doubted it had anything to do with reconciling the finances. Kerry was working through something and I couldn't shake the feeling that it was bigger than he was letting on.A collective gasp came from outside the wheelhouse and I grinned, an old joy filling me with each satisfied shriek that erupted from the deck, pulling my thoughts away from Kerry. I felt the boat pitch as the thundering footsteps of the divers followed the shark from aft to stern. It was rare I made a trip out near Dyer Island without spotting one of the apex predators, but my excitement never waned, and my admiration for their ancient power and beauty never faltered. I was seven years old again each time I connected with the black eyes of these stunning creatures.What was I doing sequestering myself in the wheelhouse? There was nothing I could do for Kerry until the charter was done. We were on the sharks. I threw my cell into my hoodie hung by the door, and stepped out onto the deck. There were two divers in the cage, three standing where it was anchored next to the boat, and two on the bow. Feet shuffled above my head on the second level of the boat where the rest of the divers were chatting happily as they clicked off pictures.Abraham sidled up next to me, put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed affectionately. His bone-white teeth stood out against the deep blackness of his skin and a jovial smile told me it was a good sighting. The silver streaks he'd developed in his hair over the last two years made him even more handsome."How big?""Almost four metres," Abraham said, pointing at the shark on the aft side. "There's a three metre juvenile creeping around as well."We made our way behind the cage, where a deckhand tossed chum into the water, bribing the sharks to stay with our boat. There were two other companies doing the same bait and view routine with their own tourists so we had to keep the sharks occupied or risk losing them to one of the boats that sat a respectable distance away. I peered into the water as I saw the large shadow draw closer. I slid my polarised glasses over my eyes to block out the glare of sun on the waves and felt my breath hitch when the larger one came into view.The sides of the shark were scarred from the number of mating seasons it had been through, the twisted patchwork of white a testament to its age. It cut gracefully through the water past the cage, ignoring the divers in the cage that were pushing as far back against the metal as possible, and yet it was obvious the shark was aware of everything happening around it. It had decided we weren't a threat long before it showed up alongside the boat. These creatures were cunning, intelligent, and ancient. I knew the black of their eyes almost as well as the green of Kerry's.The deckhand pulling the fish yanked it closer to the cage and the water surged as the juvenile crashed towards the floating fish head. The divers next to the cage jumped back with a cry of surprise, while the deckhands, Abraham, and I laughed until we were nearly crying. We'd seen the shadow underneath the water as the smaller one moved in. I put my arms around the shoulders of two of the divers at the side of the boat. The petite wife of the American man pulled me closer. Her wetsuit was soaked since she'd just exited the cage."You see that bro over there with the video camera?" I pointed them towards Dominick so he could get a good shot of their faces after the surprise. "He's much more dangerous than the juvenile softie out there."Dominick winked, and they twittered and blushed."See, I told you. Sharks are incredibly evolved predators, but you shouldn't fear them. They are shy, deliberate hunters and will rarely attack except when hunting. They will never attack the cage. Dom, on the other hand, you need to watch those teeth."Before I could slip my arms from around their shoulders, the American woman looked at me in amazement. Her teeth chattered. "I don't know whether to be frightened or amazed. You really love them don't you? The sharks?""I do. There is more to be amazed of than frightened of. Listen to Abraham. He'll sell you."I excused myself and left my co-captain to do his work. While my brain was filled with all kinds of arcane and useless trivia about sharks and their appearances on TV and in movies, Abraham had been a part of my uncle's research crew for years and could answer the important questions about shark biology and habits. Turning this part over to him was also carefully choreographed after our years of working together. I had a tendency to spout off about the evil that was TV's Shark Week if given half a chance. Okay, any chance. But it also gave me time to do what I really loved to do, which was watch the sharks.I sat in the stern with the deckhands and cut up chum. It was the perfect vantage point to watch the juvenile great white stay a deferential distance from the larger shark, which only circled back once the divers had calmed down and a fresh bucket of blood was dumped into the water. I watched the shark until I felt an itch to check on Kerry.Back in the wheelhouse, I pulled out my cell and texted Okay?I stared at the phone, waiting for a reply. I could picture him trying to think how to respond, of typing something and then erasing it. I closed my eyes and paid attention to the rolling of the waves beneath the boat, letting them rock me. The sun pouring through the wheelhouse window on to my shoulders and face, warm salt air filtering in through the open windows, and the rhythmic sound of the waves against the hull helped calm my worry over Kerry. I don't know how long I stood there, mesmerised and half asleep, before my cell pinged again.Just need more coffee. And your ass back in bed.Only a couple more hours and I would be happy to oblige him on the second part. Because getting off the boat and coming home to Kerry, even after three years, was still my favourite part of the day.

Christmas with Mesa is now available for pre-order from Silver!

Christmas with Mesa is now available for pre-order from Silver Publishing! 

Fed up with being the pawn in her parent’s continual bickering match, Kendall decides to avoid all the fuss and take a well-deserved vacation over Christmas with her rescued German shepherd dog, Mesa. Finding a pet friendly resort, she heads off for some much needed rest and relaxation only to bump into an old college boyfriend.

Jason and Kendall parted ways four years earlier when he graduated a semester early and left for graduate school, eventually losing touch with one another. Long ago buried feelings re-emerge as they get to know one another once more. Can they re-kindle lost love and find a way to stay together or will history repeat itself?

https://spsilverpublishing.com/product_book_info/coming-soon-c-2/products_id/1316/?zenid=26c4a8760002fec8590f5a76e8d496a4

Release date:  Dec. 7, 2012. 

Cover art for Christmas with Mesa!

I have the cover art for Christmas with Mesa to be released on Dec. 7. 

Reese did such a great job!  Isn't it pretty? 

As Fate Would Have It available in PRINT at Amazon

Amazon now has As Fate Would Have It available in PRINT!


http://www.amazon.com/As-Fate-Would-Have-It/dp/1614956669/ref=sr_1_5?ie=UTF8&qid=1349968035&sr=8-5&keywords=cheyenne+meadows

Also available from Silver Publishing:
https://spsilverpublishing.com/product_book_info/paperbacks-c-83/products_id/1290/?zenid=3ee689fbcf70cbaa766ebea3ef6cce02

Barnes and Noble coming soon!

Summer's Night is now available at Barnes and Noble!

Summer's Night is now available at Barnes and Noble!

Night, leader of the Wind Warriors, has little time for romance and no patience for his matchmaking mother's selections, too busy focusing on special missions. His orderly life falls apart when Summer, his mother's physical therapist and his budding romantic interest, is kidnapped at gunpoint.
Summer never expects to meet a man like Night, intelligent and downright sexy. She bristles under his dictatorial tone, stands up to him, while beginning to see the man underneath. A man she could spend a lifetime with.
The past comes back to haunt Night, dragging Summer into the midst of danger. Can he gather the team and rush to her rescue before it's too late and he loses the woman he's come to love?


Available at:

Barnes and Noble:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/summers-night-cheyenne-meadows/1113215240?ean=2940015593280

Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Summers-Night-Wind-Warriors-ebook/dp/B009JW4QAA/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1349811073&sr=1-1

Silver Publishing: 
https://spsilverpublishing.com/product_book_info/new-release-c-1/products_id/1207/?zenid=da37945a211347cbc6cece98c296b8be

As Fate Would Have It releases in PRINT tomorrow!

As Fate Would Have It will be released in print tomorrow!

Brie welcomes her badly needed vacation, but one phone call tosses those plans out the window. Bad plumbing leaves Rye, a family friend, homeless. He moves in with Brie temporarily, turning her contented life upside down--challenging her into buying sexy lingerie, watching porn, and delving into his police investigations. The flare of excitement, not to mention the instant attraction between the two, turns into something more complicated.

The old ladies gossip group target Rye, a neighborhood couple isn't what they appear, and his repressed roommate watches porn and dyes his underwear pink.

What's a man to do but solve the case, catch the bad guys, and get his woman?

What's a woman to do but show him how it's done?


Excerpt:

Incessant ringing woke Brie from her exhausted sleep. With a groan she reached out, whapping the alarm clock on the second attempt. Hearing the annoying warble continue, she reached for the device once more. Her muddled brain took a second to figure out the phone woke her. Rolling over, she picked up the receiver. "Hello?" she mumbled, still hoarse from sleep.

"Brie! I'm so glad I caught you. Are you feeling well, dear? Do you have a cold? Oh, those summer colds are just the worst, I swear. It's so fortunate that you start your vacation now, isn't it? Maybe you can get some extra sleep? That will surely help."

Blinking, Brie tried to keep up with her Aunt Flo's rambling. She couldn't hold back the snort at the recommendation for extra sleep. Glancing at the clock, she shook her head. Six-thirty am.So much for sleeping in on my first day of vacation.

"Aunt Flo?"

"Of course, it's me, dear. Now, as I was saying... Poor Rye. Those old pipes under that house just started leaking. They have to dig all the metal ones up and replace them. Might take a couple of months to repair all the damage and get his house back in order again. And, his car, too. Transmission went out. It was fine one day and poof, the next it was totally gone. Just bad luck, that's all it is, a string of bad luck."

Yawning, Brie caught a familiar name. Rye. Rye Taylor. Her Aunt Flo and his Aunt Sally were the best of buddies since grade school. To this day, they still did everything together--vacations, jobs, picnics--except when their husbands sent them a come hither look. Then, no one would see them for possibly days.
Rye, a couple years older than Brie, had always been a competitor. His younger brother Jason tended to be more laid back, full of smiles and jokes. Rye could charm a snake if he wanted, but his main goal aimed to win. Not necessarily at all costs, but he didn't lose; well, maybe a couple of times. She couldn't help but grin at the memory.

She had been seven at the time, making Rye nine. Their families had gathered for the yearly picnic at the old homestead of the Taylor family. Adults sat in the shade, telling stories of times past, the recent happenings, mixed with a few embarrassing tales tossed in for good measure. The boys, Rye and Jason, were busy playing tag with Aunt Flo's son, Jeremy. Brie, being the only girl, was pretty much left to her own devices. Obviously, one of the parents instructed the boys to include her as next thing she knew, Rye reluctantly asked her to play tag.

Having just finished a growth spurt, she matched him in height, but retained her inherent quickness. Needless to say, she caught him more than once, delighting in tagging him to be it, then dashing away just out of his reach.

Tag ended up turning into a wrestling match, as Rye became more and more incensed to be the victor and reclaim his rights as the champion and holder of the throne. To his chagrin, Brie pinned him fair and square, as the other boys looked on in disbelief. Always a quick thinker, Rye decided if he couldn't beat her, tying her to a tree was the next best option. She was naïve enough to allow him to tie her up, thinking it was all part of their game of Cowboys and Indians. As they walked off, the realization hit her that she had been bested in the age old game of wits.

A few screams for help later, Rye's father James came to her rescue, smirking the whole time. The boys had gathered around, nervously shifting from one foot to the other, heads down, praying they wouldn't suffer any consequences for their prank. James ended up chuckling as he untied the first knot, yelling over his shoulder to his wife. "Sarah, I think Rye takes after you in the tying department." All the adults thought it was hilarious at the time. Brie didn't have a clue. She knew that instead of a lecture, Rye was commended on his knot tying abilities. She decided then and there that the family was just a tad bit eccentric.

Aunt Flo's voice broke through her memories. "He's pretty much family, dear, and family helps out one another. Don't worry; he's got a few days of leave, so you won't have to run up and down the road all day. And, with that wrenched shoulder, he needs a little looking after as well. Oh, my. Look at the time. His friend from the force should be dropping him off any minute now."

"Wait, what did you say?" She had missed something important here. Sitting up in bed, she waited, hoping she wasn't hearing what she thought.

"Brie, you must pay better attention. Rye is going to be staying with you for a while, just until his house is repaired. Can't let him stay in one of those hotels, too expensive and sleazy to boot. I told Sally you wouldn't mind." She paused to take another breath.

"Aunt Flo! Rye doesn't even like me." Well, she wasn't sure of that since she hadn't seen him since he graduated high school. But, when they were younger, he was forever daring her and trying to outdo her in every aspect.

"Oh, nonsense. Of course he likes you."

"He tied me to a tree!" For some odd reason, that episode didn't come across as a promise of undying love.

"Now, dear. Boys will be boys. You know how they are at that age. Besides, that was years ago."

"But..."

"Oh, I've got to go, dear. John is hollering that he's going to leave without me if I don't get a move on. Bye, Brie, and play nice."

The phone clicked on the other end. "Aunt Flo?" Silence was her only answer. With a large sigh, Brie put the phone back on its cradle, her head still spinning over this latest twist in her life. The gist of what she understood revolved around the fact Rye's home flooded from burst pipes while his car met its demise from transmission issues. So, now her aunt offered up Brie's house to Rye until his home was livable once more. Was there something mentioned about an injury in the midst of all that speed talking? Just great. Her well-earned vacation had come and she'd be stuck with an impromptu roommate, one who drove her completely insane. With a loud groan, she flopped back on the bed.

The doorbell interrupted her moment of self pity. Blinking, she recalled her aunt's words. "A buddy from the force would be dropping him off any minute."

"Ack!" Jumping out of the bed, she took a second to slide on her pink bunny slippers, hopping a few feet as she jammed her little toe. Finally, she quickly headed down the hall to the main room, finger combing her hair all the way. Jeez! He would have to show up at the crack of dawn, when I look like the bride of Frankenstein. Heck, I don't even have time to brush my teeth yet. Okay, just remember, don't get within breathing distance of him. Can't have him thinking I have a major halitosis problem.

Walking past the counter that separated the kitchen from the family room, she spied a few items she purchased on her way home from a twelve-hour shift the evening before. Too exhausted to do much more, she put the perishables in the fridge, leaving the other items on the counter to deal with this morning. The peach-colored box of tampons caught her eye. Dashing over, she grabbed the box and had no more than turned back in the direction of her room before the doorbell rang again, a second series of chimes that encouraged her to rush to the door before the silly pattern played again.

"Oh, good grief!" Opening the nearest kitchen drawer, she tossed the box in, slamming it shut on her way to the front door.

Breathing a little hard from her mad dashing, she peeked out the door, unlocking it as she did. Brie took a deep breath as she opened the door, her gaze landing on a wide, powerful male chest.

Wow, guess he ate his vegetables. Yummy. She had to tilt her head back in order to gaze up on his face. Short, neatly trimmed black hair covered his head. Piercing deep blue eyes stared down at her, a twinkle in their depths. Shoulders wide, giving an impression of sheer power, yet not the bulkiness that some men displayed. This strength spoke more of physical labor and hard work than from hours in the gym. Although, she had no doubt he knew his way around a weight bench quite well. Glancing down, she noted that chest trailed down to a lean waist. Skipping southward, she noticed powerful thighs encased in tight denim, leading down to a pair of black work boots. A large, rugged brown suitcase sat on his left side, a gym bag tossed over the right shoulder, his arm resting against the zipper.

Put that together with those snug jeans, that hunky body, and teasing smile... No, no, no. What am I thinking? Bad, Brie. Very bad. Temporary roommate. That's all this is. Yeah, so the new roomie looks like Adonis come to life, no biggie. You can do this.

"Rye. Good to see you again." Was that my voice, that breathy whisper? Not a good sign. Got to turn off the drool faucet and get the brain gears back to running. Swallowing, she tried again. "I'm sorry about your house."

Available at: 
Silver Publishing:
https://spsilverpublishing.com/product_book_info/paperbacks-c-83/products_id/1290/?zenid=07e3b402d0c3200a550c5053c90536b8

Coming soon to Amazon and Barnes and Noble!