Dani Collins's Blog, page 38

Bites Of Books - The Sheikh's Sinful Seduction

When I completed and submitted my thirtieth book, I decided to celebrate by offering a taste from each one. Enjoy!

The Sheikh's Sinful Seduction is part of a series based on the seven deadly sins. I was so thrilled when they asked me to take on lust! I felt like I'd won the lottery!

Fern was raised to think of sex as sinful and Zafir could destroy his country if he follows his libido. The magic of an oasis, however, dismantles their resistance. Here he's found her swimming at dawn--where all the guards can see her.

~ * ~

Bare, tanned feet stood on the beach before her.

Her heart stalled and her soggy nightgown clung like a skin of dread. Her feet halted and her knees locked in denial.

How? No one else was up.

Her gaze climbed athletic shins to where unbleached linen board shorts ended at his knees.

Leave it to him to wear drawstring shorts that were still the epitome of class, tailored to hang low across his brown hips in the most disreputable yet erotic way. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and he was a perfect specimen of the human male. His tense, flat abs were bisected by a line of hair that flared across his brown chest. The pattern accentuated his broad shoulders and the relaxed muscles of his upper arms.

His mouth was set in a grim line, the stubble on his jaw dark making him look even more piratical and dangerous than the first glimpse she’d had of him. He had black hair, she noted. Trimmed close to keep it tight against his scalp.

His brows stayed heavy over those remarkable, glittering eyes as he opened a towel with a flick. She hadn’t noticed he was holding one. He beckoned her with two bent fingers, then hissed a word in Arabic that she’d heard Amineh use to hurry the girls.

“Now,” he said in a stern whisper. “The guards don’t need to see you like that.”

Like what?

She glanced down to see her nightgown was plastered to her front, her nipples standing out from the high curves of her breasts like traffic cones. Her lack of underwear was flagrantly obvious.

The light was coming up fast with the sun. She couldn’t approach him looking like this!

Her tent looked miles away from here, however, and… Oh, help me. He didn’t wait. He waded into the water and snapped the towel around her back, barely giving her a chance to lift her arms out of the way before he closed it across her chest and tucked it tight.

She grabbed at it to finish the job herself, then brushed his hands away and glared up at him, even though she was the idiot who’d gotten herself into this mortifying position.

“I didn’t think anyone else was awake,” she hissed.

“The guards patrol around the clock.”

She scowled at the surrounding area, right up to the top of the jagged wall of the canyon, seeing no one. “Well, I wasn’t planning to swim when I came out.”

“Good thing I was.” He nodded at the towel, matching her whisper, but still managing to sound patronizing.

“I wasn’t trying to insult anyone,” she explained, upset that she’d made a cultural gaffe.

He snorted. “That was the least of my reasons for covering you.”

Again he used the tone that suggested she was a bit of a half-wit. She glared up at him, but the eye contact only sent a current of electricity through her that stayed active and hummed in her veins so her breaths stumbled unevenly. A shiver chased over her even as the burn that had kept her awake through the night rekindled.

She forced herself to look toward her tent. Told her feet to carry her in that direction, but all the illicit fantasies she’d had in there loomed large in her mind. The blood she’d cooled with her swim heated and moved with a sensual slither through her veins, creating a simmering warmth in her belly and lower. Very personal muscles clenched in anticipation.

The return to a state of receptiveness was so primeval and quick, her breath hitched in a helpless catch. How did he do this to her by only standing near? It was unsettling to have no control over her reactions.

She didn’t want to know if he knew, hoped he didn’t, but her gaze tracked to his to see.

He was waiting for her. Something fierce flashed in his eyes. This time when he stepped close and lowered his head, as proprietary as a man could get, she didn’t feel any alarm. No sense of self-preservation. Just anticipation. Please.

His lips burned on contact against her cool ones, sliding easily against the dampness left from her swim.

Her eyes closed and her senses came alive to the feel of his firm mouth settling purposefully onto hers. He parted her lips with a lick of his tongue, causing heat to flow into them so fast it stung. Her whole body came alive with a jolt of powerful excitement so intense she shuddered.

And she returned the pressure of his mouth instinctively, moving hers in a type of hungry greed, her heart pounded with excitement and fear-spiked awareness that she wanted things from him he could never give her. This was futile, but irresistible.

And so exquisite. When his tongue dashed deeper against her inner lips, both daring and deliciously stimulating, she touched her own to his. He tasted smoky and spicy, not like cigarettes, but like open fires and exotic foods. He was remarkable. The sensations he provoked in her were so sweet she wanted to moan aloud. She was drowning—

It hit her that they were still standing in the pool where anyone could see them.

Stricken, she jerked back with a splashing step.

He steadied her, mouth tightening to a harsh line as he scanned over her head. When his searing green gaze came back to hers, his eyes were brimming with frustration.

“Let’s take this to my tent,” he said in a graveled undertone.

Her heart exploded inside her chest like an overinflated balloon, bursting into ragged pieces. Hookups were just that easy? Women were, she supposed. For him. He obviously thought she was.

“Just like that?” she asked breathily, anguished that she’d dropped herself so low in his estimation.

He cocked his head, expression cynical. “You don’t want to?”

His tone was full of the knowledge that she’d kissed him back, making it doubly hard to claim she didn’t want to. Her chest was still rising jaggedly and her vision was full of a naked chest she longed to touch. She swallowed.

“I happen to like my job,” she said, hating herself for not being able to honestly say she wasn’t even tempted. She was. Deeply.

“They don’t have to know,” he said, flatly brushing that away.

“Look.” She must be glowing redder than the sky at the horizon. “I can do the math. You don’t have many options here.” She used her chin to indicate the camp. “I suppose it’s a good offer, that I should feel flattered, but I’m not in your league.”

It was a detail she’d been using in her head to counter her longing and it didn’t seem to sway him any better than it did her.

His expression hardened with derision. “We’ll be on exactly the same level once we’re horizontal.”

Nice, she mentally scoffed, taking that remark like a sword in the gut, while the thought of being horizontal, with him atop her, shorted out her brain.

She startled at the way his hand gentled on her arm as it moved in a light caress that raised prickling sensations across her shoulders and up the back of her neck. He was making no effort to temper his sexuality and was quite overwhelming. Everything about him made her heart race with both apprehension and excitement. His touch was so possessive and strong that every little caress of his thumb against her skin would stay with her for the rest of her life.

“You really want me to believe you don’t want to?” he chided.

“Of course I want to,” she admitted painfully. There was no point in denying it. She was lousy at dissembling. Stronger people walked all over her because she had few natural defenses. It made her great with children and hopeless when it came to a captivating man like him.

So she realized what a chance she was taking in revealing how attracted she was to him. If he took it into his head to pursue her, she’d have no way of stopping him.

“Then let it happen.” His reassuring caress became something more, something drugging and inducing. “I’m not going to hurt you, Fern.”

“I’ve been given to believe differently,” she protested with the caustic sarcasm she hated resorting to, but her back was to the wall. “Apparently it does hurt. The first time.”

So there, she told him with a pointed look into stunned aqua eyes. Her face ached. Yes, she mentally transmitted. No one had ever wanted her enough to take her virginity. It was lowering and painful, but it was true.

Now her feet found the ability to propel her away to somewhere dark and small. Chest aching, she let her shaky legs carry her back to her tent.

~ * ~

Amazon: US | CA | UK | Aus | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

Want more? Read the opening pages in these #SampleSunday posts from when the book released in 2015. (Sorry, the contests and giveaways are no longer active):

Meet Fern
Meet Zafir
They pitch a tent (wink!)
Almost kiss
Fern reacts

Want to be the first to see an excerpt of an upcoming book? Join my newsletter! You'll auto-magically receive a link to download Cruel Summer, a short ebook romance I wrote exclusively for my subscribers.

Bites Of Books - The Ultimate Seduction

When I completed and submitted my thirtieth book, I decided to celebrate by offering a taste from each one. Enjoy!

The Ultimate Seduction was my first collaboration with other Harlequin Presents authors. I was asked to work with Maya Blake and Victoria Parker, both fabulous writers and terrific people. We were tasked with creating a secret club--not a sex club--but one where only the richest, most elite are invited to join.

We had so much fun with this premise! The club is anonymous, so the members wear masks, and yes, some do hook up. I won't give you too many spoilers, but my heroine has reasons for taking advantage of what she thinks is a singular opportunity to be with the hero. She doesn't know who he is, however, and their next morning is quite something. She has just realized he's the man who took her virginity last night and he has just realized she is married. (She's actually widowed.)

Here's part of that scene, in his POV.

~ * ~

Ryzard tossed the folder into the empty chair and hooked his hands in his pockets to keep from strangling the woman who wanted to play him for a fool. Her being married was bad enough. She might shrug off little things like extramarital affairs, but he did not.

The fact she thought she could buy his business was even more aggravating, partly because he was so affected by last night. As much as he wished he wasn’t, his body was reacting to her even though she was dressed very conservatively. Her loose, sand-colored pants grazed the floor over heeled sandals he’d glimpsed when she had moved. They were clunky-looking things, but their height elongated her legs into lissome stems he wanted to feel through the thin fabric of her pants. Her yellow top was equally lightweight and cut across her collarbone, hiding skin that had seemed powder white last night.

What he’d seen of it, anyway. He couldn’t see much today and found that equally frustrating. He might have detected her nipples poking against the fine silk of her top, but while her flat green jacket nipped in to emphasize her waist, it also shielded her breasts from his view.

Nothing about her appearance hinted at the exciting, sensual woman he’d met last night. Even her wild curls had been scraped back, which might have been an elegant display of her bone structure if he could see her face.

“Take off your mask,” he ordered, irritated that his voice wasn’t as clear as he’d like.

“No.”

The quietly spoken word blasted into his eardrums. It was not something he heard often.

“It’s not a request,” he stated.

“It’s not open for discussion,” she responded, body language so hostile he could practically taste her antagonism.

Curious.

No. He wouldn’t allow himself to be intrigued by her. Pulling himself together, he did his best to reject and eject her from every aspect of his life in one blow.

Glancing away as if his senses weren’t concentrated upon her every breath and pulse, he said dismissively, “Tell your husband you failed. My business can’t be bought. He might enjoy your second-rate efforts that offer no real pleasure, but I’m more discerning.”

Her sharp inhale, as if she’d been stabbed in the lung, drew his gaze back to her. Her lips were white and trembled just enough to kick him in the conscience.

He forced himself to hold her hurt gaze, surprised how effective his insult had been. Her startling blue eyes deepened to pools of navy that churned with angry hatred. He didn’t flinch from it, but instead held her gaze as if he was holding a knife in a wound, ensuring he would fully sever himself from a repeat performance of his weakness.

“How do you propose I tell him?” she asked with a bitterness that bludgeoned him, implacable and final. “Hire a psychic? He’s dead.” She pivoted to the door.

A blinding flash, like white light, shot through him. Not an external thing, but an inner slice of laser-sharp pain that he felt as an echo of hers. He knew that sort of grief—

Before he realized what he was doing, he’d moved to catch her arm and spin her around to him.

She used her momentum to bring her free hand up, sending it flying toward his face.

He caught her wrist and jerked back his head, his reflexes honed by war and a natural dominance that always kept him on guard. Still, a heavy blanket of regret suffocated him as he held her while she wordlessly struggled. He’d insulted her because he was angry, but he would never wound someone by dangling such a loss over them. An apology was needed, but holding on to her was like trying to wrestle a feral cat into a sack.

“Stop fighting me,” he ground out, surprised by her wiry strength and unflagging determination.

“Go to hell!”

He got her wrists in one hand behind her back, her knee scissored between his own tightly enough to prevent it rising into his crotch. Squeezing her enough to threaten her breathing, he loosened off as she quieted.

“Big man, overwhelming a helpless woman,” she taunted in a pant.

“You’re not that helpless,” he noted, admiring her fighting spirit despite his inherent knowledge that he shouldn’t like anything about her.

She was widowed. That was tremendously important, even though he refused to examine too closely why he was so relieved. Or why he was now determined to learn more about her. He’d been serious about not being corruptible, no matter how his body longed to be persuaded.

Her shaken breaths caused her breasts to graze his chest, increasing the arousal their struggle had already stimulated. She recognized his hardness and squirmed again, forcing him to pin her even closer to hang on to her.

“Let me go,” she said in a furious voice that provoked more than intimidated.

“In a minute.” He reached to remove her mask—

She tried to bite him. He narrowly snatched his fingers from the snap of her teeth.

“You little wildcat.” He couldn’t help but be amused by her streak of ferocity. Her bared teeth were perfect, her pinched nostrils as refined as a spoiled princess’s.

“I’m reporting this assault,” she told him.

“I have a right to see whose body I was in last night,” he told her, unconsciously revealing with the low timbre of his voice how disturbed he was by the memory.

“No, you don’t. I’m discerning about who sees any part of me. And maybe I didn’t bring my best game last night because I was bored and wanted it over with. Did you think of that?”

“I suppose I deserved that,” he murmured, but her insult still landed like a knee in the gut, making his abdominal muscles clench in offense.

Digging his fingers around the knot of her hair, he tugged lightly, deliberately overwhelming her with his strength, exposing her throat and making her aware she was at his mercy. Not because he got off on hurting women. Never. But she needed to understand that even though she was utterly vulnerable to him, he wouldn’t harm her.

“Now we’ve both said something cruel, and neither of us will do it again.”

Her outraged “Ha” warmed his lips, making him deeply conscious of the shape of her kewpie-doll mouth with its peaks in her top lip over a fat strawberry of a bottom one. Her scent, like saponaria, somewhere between dewy grass and sun-warmed roses, threatened to erase all thought but making love to her again.

“I only said what I did because I thought you were married. And you tricked me. I don’t like your trying to take advantage of me. To even the playing field…” He reached for the tailing ribbon that held her mask.

“Noooo.” The sharp anguish in her voice startled him. She was genuinely terrified, straining into a twist to escape his loosening of the mask.

He let go of the ribbon and her, horrified that he’d scared her so deeply, but he couldn’t help reaching to steady her when she staggered as she tried to catch the falling mask. Her shaking hands fumbled it before her, turning it around and around, trying to right it so she could put it on again. A desperate sob escaped her.

It was too late. He’d seen what she was trying to hide, and the bottom dropped out of his heart. He touched her chin, wanting a better look.

She knocked his hand away and flashed a look of fury at him. With her jaw set in livid mutiny, she stopped trying to replace her mask and stared him down with the kind of aggression that would make him fear for his life if she’d been armed.

“Happy?” she charged.

Not one little bit.

As he took in the mottled shades of pink and red, all he saw was pain. He’d been in battle. He knew what bullets and flames and chemicals could do to the human body. That’s why his world had stopped last night when he’d thought a bomb was landing on the ramparts of the club.

But these were healed injuries, as well as they’d ever get anyway. The ragged edge of the facial scar followed a crooked line like a country’s border on a map, sharply defining rescued flesh from the unharmed with a raised pink scar. It hedged a patch from over her left eye into the corner of her lid—she might have lost her sight, he acknowledged, cold dread touching his internal organs. Under her eye, it cut diagonally toward her nose before tracing down to the corner of her mouth and under her jawline, and then wound back to her hair.

The side of her neck was only a little discolored, but the way the color fanned at the base of it made him suspect the scarring went down her arm and torso too, maybe farther.

As he brought his gaze back up to her face, he met eyes so bruised and wounded, he was struck with shame at causing her to reveal herself. He hadn’t been trying to humiliate her. This wasn’t meant as a punishment.

The hatred in her eyes took it as such anyway, stabbing him with compunction.

“I wouldn’t work for you if your country was knocked back into the Stone Age and we were overinventoried in animal fur and flint. I’m leaving. Now.”

He didn’t try to stop her, sensing he’d misjudged her on a grand scale.

She tied her mask into place without looking at him. When she pressed the button to open the doors, they didn’t cooperate, remaining closed while she swore at her watch.

“Tiffany,” he cajoled, pulling her name from what he’d read, but not sure what he would say if he could persuade her to stay.

“Die,” she ordered flatly.

The doors opened and she walked out.

~ * ~

Amazon: US | CA | UK | Aus | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

Want more? Read the opening pages in these #SampleSunday posts from when the book released in 2014. (Sorry, the contests and giveaways have expired):

Meet Tiffany
Meet Ryzard

Want to be the first to see an excerpt of an upcoming book? Join my newsletter! You'll auto-magically receive a link to download Cruel Summer, a short ebook romance I wrote exclusively for my subscribers.

Bites Of Books - Seduced Into The Greek's World

I recently completed and submitted my thirtieth book. I'm celebrating by offering a taste from each one. Enjoy!

All of my books can be read as stand-alones, but I often include links to other books through characters who are siblings or cousins. (Or live in the same town, like Marietta, Montana.)

Seduced Into the Greek's World is the last in a four book series about three brothers and a sister. All of the titles are listed below the excerpt, if you prefer to read in order.

I loved Seduced Into The Greek's World for a few reasons. First, the heroine is Canadian. I really do need to write more of those because I always have fun with it. Maybe I should write a Canadian hero... ? Hmm. But I digress.

I also love that Natalie is a single mom, away on a special project for work. It's a job she had to fight for, which rings true for me because women are often overlooked for promotions, etc. The prevailing belief is that they have too many commitments at home so it's more practical to not even bother asking, offering, or accommodating. Just get a man to do it. So unfair.

Finally, I love that she owns her sexuality. Having an affair while she's away is more of a fantasy than a goal, but she likes the idea that she is on vacation from responsibility. (Don't we all have that fantasy sometimes?) She had her daughter very young and, until she lands in Paris, hasn't felt as though she could have an affair. This is a chance to reinvent herself, or at least see who she might have been if she hadn't become pregnant out of high school.

Then she does have an affair and Demitri seems like everything a woman could want--except he's really a bit of a mess in a tycoon's bespoke clothing. Also, he doesn't know she has a child, so that's news when he finds out.

You can read the opening chapters in this series of #SampleSunday posts from when the book came out in mid 2015.

I'm sorry, but I'm trying to keep these Safe For Work so I skipped the love scene and here is the next morning. She works for him, so they really shouldn't have done the deed, but now he's had a taste, he wants more.

~ * ~

“I don’t know what you’re saying.”

He frowned. “Do you want it in French? I’m saying that I’ve never tried to hide the fact that I’m seeing a woman, and I don’t like it. Don’t expect me to be good at it.”

“We’re seeing each other?” Her ears rang with a repetition of the phrase, trying to make sense of it.

“Having an affair, then. Whatever you want to call it.” He shrugged his big shoulders, the movement jerky and dismissive.

“Is that what you call it? I mean, do you even do that? See women more than once?”

“Not often,” he allowed, not flinching from her bewildered stare, utterly unfazed at being called a philanderer. “But you said you wanted an affair while you were here, and last night was good.” His eyes narrowed a fraction. “Very good. Wasn’t it?”

Her heart seemed to break through the thin skin of her throat, pounding in a state of painful vulnerability under his challenge. His statement was nothing so insecure as a request for confirmation. He knew damned well he’d rocked her world and given the intensity of his gaze, he was one feminine sigh of surrender from doing it again.

“Is there any chance you’ll quit your job so we can do this in the open?” he asked gruffly.

“I… What? Ha!” The sound escaped her in a burst of disbelief as her consciousness landed firmly back on the hard floor.

She looked around, taking in weird details of his office that she couldn’t have known if she was dreaming, like a slanted drafting table with a big scratch pad splashed with various streaks of color, a white board scrawled with uneven boxes and illegible labels, a wall strung with threads, magazine clippings pinned along them. The shelves held dozens of odd items from water bottles to smart phone cases to beach balls, all wearing the Makricosta logos.

“Have I got this right? Are you seriously asking me to make a permanent change to my life for something temporary? That’s not a demand for commitment,” she rushed to add, holding up a forestalling hand. “I’m just saying, do you hear yourself?”

She almost added, I’m a mom, but it really didn’t fit with the way she’d behaved last night and only made her more self-conscious with what was happening now. Especially because there was a small part of her that thought, in another life… She would never, ever wish away her daughter, but a wistful desire to see what might have been had underpinned all her very sound reasons for taking this assignment in France.

And here was the answer. This is what she could be: an independent woman who was carefree enough to take up a man’s exceedingly frivolous offer of… What was he even suggesting?

“How would that even work?” she quizzed with bemusement. “I’d quit my job and you’d set me up somewhere, pay my bills?”

He barely moved, just offered a cool nod of assent. “You’d travel with me if I required it.”

“Oh, my God.” She’d been joking. Ridiculing the suggestion.

A gush of icy cheapness went through her as she absorbed the full impact of the scenario. This was what happened when you thought the grass was greener on the neighbor’s lawn. Turned out it was actually an overflow of the septic tank.

She headed for the door.

Before she could turn the knob, his hand was over the crack, his body looming next to hers in a radiation of heat and crackling male energy.

“Why does that offend you? I want to see you again and not on the sly. Whatever the obstacles are, I want to remove them.”

She glared over her shoulder, trying to hang on to her insulted indignation, but he was so obviously uncomfortable it gave her pause. Her senses took a hit of his male energy at the same time, flooding her with memories of how yummy it had felt to be stroked and possessed and drawn into shared climax. Her breathing changed and so did his.

“Why?” she demanded. There were thousands of other women out there. He should know. He’d bedded most of them. Was he running out? Was that what motivated him to chase her?

“You know why. We didn’t even make it to the bed, for God’s sake.”

Do not think he’s calling you exceptional, Natalie. She had never been at the top of any kind of list, not even Most Reliable. She was straight-up, middle-of-the-road, work-hard-for-second-place stock.

But he was staring at her mouth like a kid at the penny candy window, making her lips tingle and her insides twist in anticipation. She shook her head in disbelief, but he took it as refusal.

“Damn it, Natalie!” He shoved back from the door, crossing the room in a few steps, then swinging around to confront her. “Why the hell not?”

The feminist in her said, I don’t have to have a reason, but she was so astonished by his reaction she could only speak the truth.

“Demitri, I don’t do this. Forgive me for being lousy at this, but I don’t go home with men. I thought…” She winced inwardly, not wanting to sound like she was okay with a one-night stand. It made her sound as cheap as he was treating her. “I had this vision of getting away and being someone different, maybe having a fling since I haven’t…” No. She would not admit it had been years. “Being away from home allowed me to behave in a way I wouldn’t normally, but I can’t continue doing it,” she asserted. “Last night was just…”

What? An opportunity? An experiment? A much needed climb back into the saddle of a horse she’d learned the hard way was expensive and ornery?

“It was a fantasy,” she said, repeating what she’d told him last night. “One that shouldn’t have played out, but I did it and now I’m awake and it’s time to be sensible.”

Amazon US | CA | UK | AUS | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

When I completed the stories for all four siblings, I called the series The Makricosta Dynasty and had post cards printed that look like this.

If you'd like me to mail you one, send me your postal address through my contact page.

If you like to read in order, here are the other books in the series:

Book One: No Longer Forbidden?

Book Two: More Than A Convenient Marriage?

Book Three: An Heir To Bind Them

Book Four: Seduced Into The Greek's World

Want to be the first to see an excerpt of an upcoming book? Join my newsletter! You'll also receive a link to download Cruel Summer, a short ebook romance I wrote exclusively for my subscribers.

Bites Of Books - An Heir To Bind Them

I recently completed and submitted my thirtieth book. I'm celebrating by offering a taste from each one. Enjoy!

In No Longer Forbidden?, the hero, Nic, reveals to the heroine, Rowan, that he is the product of his mother's affair. He has a younger half-sister and two younger half-brothers. He was removed from the family and sent to boarding school when the affair came to light. He's not even sure they remember him.

After I wrote it, I wondered about Nic's siblings and eventually wrote all their stories. An Heir To Bind Them is the third in The Makricosta Dynasty series. Theo is the middle brother and falls for Jaya. In the opening of the book, he discovers she is leaving his employ, so she's no longer 'off limits,' but she's a sexual assault survivor so she's not sure what she wants.

~ * ~

“JAYA—”

The gentle let-down in his tone made her cringe. She’d lost him to her habitual rejection of male closeness, but wanting a man to touch her was so new. She couldn’t help that it scared her.

He searched her face with his gaze. “You have to know how pretty you are. Of course I’ve noticed you. I’ve also noticed you don’t party like the rest of your age group. You’re not the one-night stand type.”

“I said a kiss, not that I wanted to sleep with you.”

Her swift disdain amused him. He quirked his mouth and tilted back his head. “So you did. You can see what a philanderer I am, it didn’t occur to me you weren’t offering to stay the night.” He made a noise of disparagement that seemed self-directed. His wide shoulders sank another notch.

He appeared so tired and in need of comfort. Conflict held her there another minute. She wanted him to see her as available, yet wanted to self-protect. It was frustrating.

“What age group?” she challenged, pushing herself as much as him. “I’m twenty-five. What are you? Thirty?”

“Are you? You look younger.” His mouth twitched again as he reassessed her in a way that incited more contradictory feelings all through her.

Just go, her timid self said. It’s safer. Her more deeply buried self, the girl who had grown up determined to make something of herself, believing in things like equal rights and reaching her own potential, stood there and tried to make him see her as someone who shouldn’t be dismissed. Someone with value and values.

“Having a career is important to me. Makricosta’s has been a second chance to build one and I haven’t wanted to do anything to jeopardize it. You won’t be surprised to hear I send money to my parents. I can’t afford to drop shifts because I’m hungover.”

“I’m not surprised at all. You’ve always struck me as very loyal. And sweet. Virginal even.” It was almost a question.

The backs of her eyes stung and she lowered her gaze to her clenched hands. “I’m not,” she admitted in a small voice, not wanting those memories to intrude when she felt so safe with him.

“And you’ve been judged for that? Men and their double standards. I hate my sex. Judge me. I sleep with women and never talk to them again. I really do that, Jaya,” he confessed with dark self-disgust.

She heard the warning behind his odd attempt to reassure. She appreciated the effort—even though he had it all wrong. Yes, she had been judged, but for a man’s crime against her, not any she’d committed.

“I hate men, too,” she admitted. But not you, she silently added.

“Ah, some bastard broke your heart. I excel at being the rebound guy, you know.” Here was the generous tycoon with the hospitable expression who asked a guest if she was enjoying her stay and wound up sharing her table along with further amenities.

“Is that why you pick up those tourists?” she couldn’t help teasing, amused by this side of him in spite of her exasperation. “You’re offering first aid?”

“I’m a regular paramedic. ‘He cheated? He’s a fool.’” He shook his head in self-deprecation. “I should be shot.”

“Are you really that shallow?” She didn’t believe it. The women were always relaxed and euphoric, never morose, when they checked out. She was envious of that. Curious.

“I’m not very deep.” He rubbed his face. “But I don’t lie. They know what they’re getting.”

“One night,” she clarified, wondering why he thought he had nothing to offer a woman beyond that.

“One night,” he agreed with an impactful look. His hands went into his pockets and he rocked back on his heels, saying, “And apparently you restrict to one kiss. But I’ll take it if you’re still offering.”

The craving in his gaze was so naked, she blushed hard enough her cheeks stung. Covering them, she laughed at herself and couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m not a certified attendant.”

“There’s not a woman in the world with enough training to fix me. Don’t try.” Another warning, his tone a little cooler.

She shook her head. This was about fixing herself, not him. “I just keep thinking that if I leave without kissing you, I’ll always wonder what it would have been like.”

That sounded too ingenuous, too needy, but his quietly loaded, “Yeah,” seemed to put them on the same page, which was remarkable. He stared at her mouth and hot tingles made her lips feel plump. She tried to lick the sensation away.

His breath rushed out in a ragged exhale. He loomed closer, so tall and broad, blocking out her vision, nearly overwhelming her. But when his fingers lightly caressed her jaw and his mouth came down, she was paralyzed with anticipation.

There’d been a few kisses in her life, none very memorable, but when his mouth settled on hers, unhurried and hot, she knew she’d remember this for the rest of her life.

The smooth texture of his lips sealed to hers. He didn’t force her mouth open. She softened and welcomed his confident possession, weakening despite the nervous flutters accosting her. He rocked the fit, deepening the kiss so she opened her mouth wider, bathed in delicious waves of heat. Their lips dampened and slid erotically. His tongue was almost there, then not, then—

He licked into her mouth and she moaned, lashed with exquisite delight. This was the kind of kiss she’d only read about and now she knew there was a reason they called it a soul kiss. Her hand went to his shoulder for balance. She lifted on her toes, wanting more pressure, more of him settling into her inner being.

With a groan, he slid his arm around her and pulled her tight against him, softly crushing her mouth while digging his fingers into her bound hair. It was good, so good. She reached her arms around his neck, loving how it felt to be kissed and held so tightly against his hard chest and—

He was hard everywhere.

Like hitting a wall, she pushed back, perturbed by how intensely she had been responding and the dicey situation she’d put herself in.

He didn’t let her go right away, kind of steadied her first while staggering one step himself, then he ran a hand through his hair and swore under his breath. “Hellfire, Jaya. I suspected it’d be good, but I didn’t know it’d be that good. Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night?”

“I—” Say no. Go. But what if he was the one? The man who would get her past the hurdle of burying her sexuality out of fear? “I really wasn’t expecting this.” Liar, an inner vixen accused. “You’re right that I don’t have affairs. I don’t know if that’s what I want right now, but…” She found herself wringing her hands like the virgin he’d accused her of being. “I really liked kissing you.”

“Are you trying to let me down gently? Because it’s not necessary.”

“No! I’m genuinely confused about what I want.” It was almost a wail of agony she was so frustrated with herself.

His mouth pulled up on one side in a half grin that might have been patronizing if he hadn’t softened it by saying, “You’re not the one-night stand type, but your life has been derailed and sex would take your mind off things. Believe me, I sympathize.”

She cocked her head, intrigued by these glimpses into the man behind the aloof mask. “Is that why you’re asking me to stay?”

“That obvious, am I?”

~ * ~

Spoiler Alert: Their one night has a consequence.

Amazon US | CA | UK | AUS | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

When I completed the stories for all four siblings, I called the series The Makricosta Dynasty and had post cards printed that look like this.

If you'd like me to mail you one, send me your postal address through my contact page.

If you like to read in order, here are the other books in the series:

Book One: No Longer Forbidden?

Book Two: More Than A Convenient Marriage?

Book Three: An Heir To Bind Them

Book Four: Seduced Into The Greek's World

Want to be the first to see an excerpt of an upcoming book? Join my newsletter! You'll also receive a link to download Cruel Summer, a short ebook romance I wrote exclusively for my subscribers.

Bites Of Books - More Than A Convenient Marriage?

I recently completed and submitted my thirtieth book. I'm celebrating by offering a taste from each one. Enjoy!

The heroine in More Than A Convenient Marriage?, Adore, is the sister of Nic, from No Longer Forbidden? So this is a very convenient (pun intended) 2-in-1. They're two of four siblings and I've listed all the books in order at the bottom of this post.

It's a marriage in jeopardy story and one of my favourites. He followed her to Greece, they're skinny dipping in the sea, and she has just told him she was pregnant. Was.

~ * ~

How he reacted to that news she didn’t care. She just wanted to be away from him, but as her toes found cold, thick sand, she halted. Leaving the water suddenly seemed a horribly exposing thing to do. How stupid to think she could become a new person by shedding a few stitches of clothing. She was the same old worthless Adara who couldn’t even keep a baby in her womb.

The sun seared across her shoulders. Her wet hair hung in her eyes and she kept her arms folded tightly across her chest, trying to hold in the agony.

She felt ridiculous, climbing down to this silly beach that was impossible to leave, revealing things that were intensely personal to her and wouldn’t matter at all to him.

“What did you say?” He was too close. She flinched, feeling the sharpness of his voice like the tip of a flicking whip.

“You heard me,” she managed even though her throat was clogging. She clenched her eyes shut, silently begging him to do what he always did. Say nothing and give her space. She didn’t want to do this. She never, ever wanted to do this again.

“You were pregnant?” His voice moved in front of her.

She turned her head to the side, hating him for cutting off her escape to the beach, hating herself for lacking the courage to take it when she’d had the chance.

Keeping her eyes tightly closed, she dug her fingers into her arms, her whole body aching with tension. “It doesn’t matter,” she insisted through her teeth. “It’s over and I just want a divorce.”

Gideon was distantly aware of the sea trying to pull him out with the tide. His entire being was numb enough that he had to concentrate on keeping his feet rooted as he stared at Adara. She was a knot of torment. For the first time he could see her suffering and it made his heart clench. When had she started to care about the miscarriages? The last one had been called into him from across the globe, his offer to come home dismissed as unnecessary.

“Tell me—”

“What is there to tell, Gideon?” Her eyes opened into pits of hopeless fury. Her face creased with sharp lines of grief. “It was the same as every other one. I did the test and held my breath, terrified to so much as bump my hip on the edge of my desk. And just when I let myself believe this time might be different, the backache started and the spotting appeared and then it was twenty-four hours of medieval torture until I was spat out in Hell with nothing to show for it. At least I didn’t have the humiliation of being assaulted by the people in white coats this time.”

She took a step to the side, thinking to circle him and leave the water, but he sidled into her path, his hand reaching to stop her. His expression was appalled. “What do you mean about being assaulted?”

She cringed from his touch, her recoil like a knee into his belly. Gideon clenched his abdominal muscles and curled his fingers into his palm, forcing his hand to his side under the water even though he wanted to grip her with all his strength and squeeze the answers out of her. She couldn’t possibly be saying what he thought she was saying.

“What people in white coats?” he demanded, but the words sounded far away. “Are you telling me you didn’t go to the hospital?” Intense, fearful dread hollowed out his chest as he watched her mask fear and compunction with a defiant thrust of her chin.

“Do you know what they do to you after you’ve had a miscarriage? No, you don’t. But I do and I’m sick of it. So no, I didn’t go,” she declared with bitter rebelliousness.

Horror washed through him in freezing waves.

“We need to get you to a doctor.” He flew his gaze to the cliff, terror tightening in him. What the hell had he been thinking, letting her descend to this impossible place?

“It was three weeks ago, Gideon. If it was going to kill me, it would have by now.”

“It could have,” he fired back, helplessness making him brutal. “You could have bled to death.”

She shrugged that off with false bravado, eyes glossy and red. “At the time that looked like a—what’s the expression you used? A viable option?”

It was a vicious slap that he deserved. While he’d been contemplating an affair, she’d been losing the battle to keep their baby. Again. And she’d been filled with such dejection she’d refused medical care and courted death.

The fact she’d let herself brush elbows with the Grim Reaper made him so agitated, he clipped out a string of foul Greek curses. “Don’t talk like that. Damn it, you should have told me.”

“Why?” she lashed out in uncharacteristic confrontation. “Do you think I enjoy telling you what a failure I am? It’s not like you care. You just go back to work while I sit there screaming inside.” She struck a fist onto the surface of the water. “I hate it. I can’t go on like this. I won’t. I want a divorce.”

She splashed clumsily from the surf, her wet underpants see-through, her staggered steps so uncoordinated and indicative of her distress it made him want to reach out for her, but he was rooted in the water, aghast.

He cared. Maybe he’d never told her, but each lost baby had scored his heart. This one, knowing he could have walked into the penthouse and found both of them dead, lanced him with such deep horror he could barely acknowledge it.

She was the one who had appeared not to care. The fact she’d been so distraught she hadn’t sought medical attention told him how far past the end of her rope she had been, but she’d never let him see any of that.

He followed her on heavy feet, pausing where they’d left their clothes.

She gave him a stark look, her gaze filling with apprehension as she took in that he was completely naked. Her fingers hurried to button her blouse.

Hell. He wasn’t trying to come onto her.

“Adara.” A throb of tender empathy caught in him like a barbed hook. He reached out to cup her neck, her thick, wet plait a weight on his wrist.

She stiffened, but he didn’t let her pull away. He carefully took her shoulder in his opposite hand and made her face him, for once driven by a need deeper than sexual to touch her.

“I’m sorry,” he said with deep sincerity. “Sorry we lost another baby, sorry you felt you couldn’t tell me. I do care. You’ve always been stoic about it and I’ve followed your lead. How could I know it was devastating you like this if you didn’t say?”

She shivered despite the heat. Her blink released a single tear from the corner of her eye. Her plump mouth trembled with vulnerability and a need to comfort overwhelmed him.

Gideon gathered her in. She seemed so delicate and breakable. He touched his mouth to hers, wanting to reassure, to console.

It wasn’t meant to be a pass, but she felt so good. The kiss was a soft press of a juicy fruit to the mouth of a starved man. He couldn’t help opening his lips on hers, sliding his tongue along the seam then pressing in for a deep lick of her personal flavor. Involuntarily, his arms tightened while greed swelled in him. Everything in him expanded in one hard kick. His erection pulled to attention in a rush of heat, fed by the erotically familiar scent of his wife.

The feathery touch of her hands whispered from his ribs to his shoulder blades. A needy sob emanated from her throat, encouraging him.

Here. Now. His brain shorted into the most basic thoughts as his carnal instincts took over. He skimmed his hand to the wet underpants covering her backside, starting to slide them down even as he deepened the kiss and began to ease them both to the sand.

Adara’s knees softened for one heartbeat, almost succumbing, then she broke away from their kiss with a ragged moan, stumbling backward a few steps as she shoved from him with near violence. Her flush of arousal dissolved into a bewildered glare of accusation and betrayal.

That wounded look bludgeoned him like a club.

Amazon US | CA | UK | AUS | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

When I completed the stories for all four siblings, I called the series The Makricosta Dynasty and even had post cards printed that look like this.

If you'd like me to mail you one, send me your postal address through my contact page.

If you like to read in order, here are the other books in the series:

Book One: No Longer Forbidden?

Book Two: More Than A Convenient Marriage?

Book Three: An Heir To Bind Them

Book Four: Seduced Into The Greek's World

Want to be the first to see an excerpt of an upcoming book? Join my newsletter! You'll also receive a link to download Cruel Summer, a short ebook romance I wrote exclusively for my subscribers.

Year End Splash Party!

I turned in a book yesterday and boy are my arms tired! Does that joke fly? This is what my brain is like when it comes out of the writing cave. Hashtag GooglyFace. Let's party.

Today kicks off my first giveaway in The Romance Reviews Year End Splash Party!

Go here to play

It's a terrific way to battle the November blues. You can play games, win prizes, and discover new titles and authors for your winter reading list. (Note: you have to login to participate.) My first game starts today.

Visit Dani's Facebook Page

Watch my Facebook page for Rafflecopter giveaways. It's part of the YES (Year End Splash) Party. The first one starts Nov 4th and there will be four in total so be sure to keep checking back.

Blame The Mistletoe - 99c

In other news, for the first half of November, Blame The Mistletoe is on sale for 99c! Please check the price when you buy. I think the sale goes until November 17th.

If you love Blame The Mistletoe, especially the Christmas theme, you might want to pick up my new Christmas title, His Christmas Miracle, or some of the other books in the series.

Other News

I am tired, mentally and physically. Along with the intense concentration of finishing a book, I'm battling a little cold and cutting back caffeine--because I needed to. It's the perfect storm. I'm your average drooling zombie, trying to figure out what I'm supposed to be doing.

I intend to spend today rehydrating and cleaning my office, organizing what comes next, making To Do lists, then beginning to tackle the tasks. I secretly love this stage. The closer I am to finishing a book, the more I let things slide, but this is my recovery period. I take my time, finish things I've left undone, answer emails, plan and sort and tidy. That makes me happy.

Are you missing #SampleSunday? My blog schedule has been a little off-kilter lately. I've been posting a #BitesOfBooks every few days and have three loaded and ready to go, but I've also had a new release and this party/giveaway to announce. I predict it will be the New Year before I'm back to my old ways of posting a #SampleSunday every weekend.

Take care,

Dani

Bites Of Books -No Longer Forbidden?

I recently completed and submitted my thirtieth book. I'm celebrating by offering a taste from each one. Enjoy!

No Longer Forbidden? was my first sale and initially came out exclusively in the UK. In the story, (tiny spoiler alert) Nic reveals to Rowan that he is the product of his mother's affair and has a younger sister and two brothers. He was removed from the family and sent to boarding school when the affair came to light.

After I wrote it, I wondered about Nic's siblings. When I came to write my third book, More Than A Convenient Marriage?, I had Nic's sister seek him out. Harlequin then packaged the books together as a 2-in-1 for Presents in North America. It looks like this:

This scene takes place after Nic saves her from nearly drowning. She cut her feet on the rocks. Note: her mother was married to Nic's father. They died last year, bodies never recovered.

~ * ~

Rowan jerked her head out of the shower spray. Nic?

“What the hell? Rowan!” His voice grew louder. The bathroom door opened and he was right there on the other side of the steamed glass, glaring like an angry drill sergeant.

Rowan squeaked in shock and turned her back on him, but she couldn’t ignore the fact she was stark naked in front of him. The underside of her skin began to warm even though she was still frozen at her core. She tensed her buttocks, aware her bottom was on blatant display. Since when did he even know which room she used? Strategically hugging herself, she cried, “Get out of here!”

“What have you done? It looks like a crime scene out there!”

“Oh, did I stain the precious hardwood you’re planning to tear up? I’ll scrub it once I quit bleeding to death, I promise. Now get out!”

The door slammed with firm disgust. She sniffed in disdain at his impossible standards and stared at hands that looked worse under the running water. They scorched with protest at the pummel of spray, but they had to be cleaned. Her feet were begging her to get off them, but her leg worried her most. Not the sting on the rashed skin, which was acute enough to make her clench her back molars. No, there was a deeper pain that concerned her. All the walking today hadn’t helped. She was afraid to look but had to. No one else would.

Rolling her eyes at her decline into maudlin self-pity, she switched off the shower and dragged a bathsheet around herself. It wasn’t as if her mother would be any use in this situation so why bother getting weepy? Olief would have been solicitous, though.

Shaking off wistfulness, still deeply chilled, she closed the lid of the toilet and sat down to pat herself dry. The door swung open again.

“Really?” she demanded, instinctively curling her feet in and closing a hand over the knot of her towel. She was in a high enough state of turmoil without Nic accosting her with his potent male energy every ten seconds. He’d already got her all bewildered on the beach then seen her naked in the shower. Sitting on a toilet in a bathsheet shaking off a near-death experience put her at the worst disadvantage ever.

He hesitated at the door, but it wasn’t with doubt. She had the impression he was gathering himself. Bracing for a challenge.

Odd. She searched his expression for more clues, but he revealed nothing beyond a clinical interest in her hands as he set bandages and disinfectant on the counter. “You scraped yourself on the rocks, I assume?”

“Good work, Holmes. I should have consulted government issued safe work plans prior to retreating from the tide, I assume?”

A pithy look then, “It’s a wonder your mother didn’t drown you at birth. Do you want help or not?”

“I don’t even know why you want to help me.” She grudgingly held out a hand.

“I don’t,” he replied flatly, going down on one knee and reaching for supplies. “But I am an adult and adults take responsibility rather than doing whatever selfish thing they want.”

“Is that a dig? Because I’m almost twenty-two. A fully-fledged adult.” Even to herself she sounded like a petulant child and really, reminding him it was nearly her birthday was the last thing she ought to do.

“All grown up,” he said with an ironic twist to the corner of his mouth. Renewed tension seemed to gather in his expression as he smoothed a bandage against her wrist.

“Yes,” she claimed pertly. Her pulse involuntarily tripped under his dispassionate caress, making her subtly catch a breath.

His gaze came up sharply, the blue like the center of a flame.

She was transported back to the feel of his arms as they stood wet and trembling on the beach, his penis hardening against her. Heat flooded into her, chasing away the last of her chill, cooking her alive. She should have felt appalled and disgusted, but to her eternal shame she was energized by this crackle of sexual awareness in the air.

“All grown up,” he repeated with flint in his tone, lifting her hand to press his lips against the bandage, a cruelly mocking glint in his eye.

She flinched and pulled her hand away even though she’d barely felt the pressure of his mouth. That so hadn’t been a kiss-and-make-it-better!

Derisive amusement darkened his eyes. “No? That’s not like you, Ro.”

Her heart took a long plunge of disgrace. At the same time she felt herself begin to glow with heated longing and other weakening sensations even as uncertainty and intrigue muddled her mind. Desperately, she reminded herself how unaffected and ruthless he could be.

“What are you doing, Nic?” she asked, trying unsuccessfully to clear the huskiness from her throat. “Offering a clumsy seduction in hopes of getting what you want out of me?”

“Oh, I’m far from clumsy. I know exactly what I’m doing when it comes to seduction.” The hard tone was coupled with a look that might as well have swept the towel from her body and left her as nude as she’d been in the shower.

Had she really wished over the years for him to notice her? Really notice her? This was a horribly defenseless feeling! Every single occasion of testing a flirty glance or enticing him with a smile came back to her as mortifyingly obvious behavior that was giving him the chance now to get the better of her.

“You’re having a go at me,” she accused, as much to remind herself as to let him know she saw through him. “I’m sure other women wither at your feet when you bring your best game, but I’m not one of them. Act solicitous all you want, but I know you don’t care. You don’t want me. You don’t even like me.”

He took a moment to silently smooth a plaster over her second palm, finally asking with detached interest, “Do all of those things have to be in place at once?” He met her gaze with a look of cool consideration.

She pressed her lips into a tight line, stung by the implied agreement that he didn’t like her. Yet still wanted her? That shouldn’t excite her, but her blood seemed to slow and thicken in her arteries, making her feel hot and full of power.

“Since when did you even think about me before you decided I was in the way of something you wanted?” she managed, trying to ignore the internal signals bouncing with anticipation inside her.

His shoulders went back and his jaw hardened. “One has nothing to do with the other. I may want you to sign some papers, but that has nothing to do with physical chemistry.”

“Chemistry that cropped up today of all days,” she scoffed, flushing with anger because her reaction to him had been torturing her forever. “It certainly wasn’t there two years ago, was it?” she prodded, thinking Shut up, Rowan.

“You want to go back to that?” With a flash of the tested anger he’d shown her then, he reached forward to cup the back of her wet head and pulled her forward to meet the crush of his mouth over hers.

“Nnn!” she almost got out, but it turned into a whimper of surprise, then disintegrated under the assertive rake of his very knowledgeable mouth.

No champagne and romance of a wind-swept beach this time. This was raw, unapologetic and incredibly beguiling. He kissed with the same command and purpose that emanated from the rest of his being. He was in control. He would take what he wanted. Their last kiss and the biting lecture that had followed had been a warning she should have heeded. Nic was a powerful, dangerous man.

Who knew how to level a woman with a kiss.

She brought her hands to his wrist and shoulder, overwhelmed yet helpless to the enthralling press of his lips over hers. There was no fighting him as he took her mouth, not because he was stronger, but because he made it so good. She could practically taste his contempt, his selfish demand that she give up everything to him, but there was skill here too. A wicked appeal to the primitive in her. He drew her into the kiss even when she knew she shouldn’t let herself be drawn.

Her inner being expanded toward him, tendrils of heated pleasure reaching for connection. She moaned, unfamiliar imperatives climbing with primal force in her. This was Nic. He didn’t want her. He was messing with her. But this was Nic. She’d fantasized about him for years.

The light scrape of his teeth suffused her with heat. The proprietary thrust of his tongue, the captivating taste of his mouth over hers, stabbed excitement through her, nudging her into a dark world of wild sensations and ravenous desire. Her limbs curled toward him like stems toward the sun, wanting more. It was crazy. Distantly she recognized this possession of her mouth had a purpose: arousal. He intended to take her all the way.

Her heart skipped. She shouldn’t let this happen, but she wanted to. And he wasn’t a force to be stopped. He reached to her lower back and pulled her hips toward him, forcing her knees to part and bracket his waist. Her shin struck the register. A ringing pain slashed through her wanton stupor, making her jolt in shock. Her towel slipped. Oh God, what was she doing?

Amazon US | CA | UK | AUS | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

Want to read more from this book? You can read the opening scene here, but I've had some website updates since this posted and the links to older posts don't work. I'm as disappointed as you are, believe me!

Eventually I published stories for all four siblings. I called the series The Makricosta Dynasty and even had post cards made that look like this.

If you'd like me to mail you one, send me your postal address through my contact page.

If you like to read in order, here are the other books in the series:

Book One: No Longer Forbidden?

Book Two: More Than A Convenient Marriage?

Book Three: An Heir To Bind Them

Book Four: Seduced Into The Greek's World

Want to be the first to see an excerpt of an upcoming book? Join my newsletter! You'll also receive a link to download Cruel Summer, a short ebook romance I wrote exclusively for my subscribers.

His Christmas Miracle - Intro Price Ending Soon

The price for His Christmas Miracle goes up November 3rd.

Want to save even more? Scroll down for a deal on the first four in the series. (Hint: boxed set!)

All of my books can be read as stand-alones, but His Christmas Miracle is Book Five in my Love In Montana series. Scroll down for a deal on the boxed set containing the first four books.

Want to know what you're in for? Here are some early reviews:

Early Reviews

"I fell in love with this series from the start." ~ Margaret, Netgalley

"His Christmas Miracle (Love in Montana, Book 5) read well as a stand-alone, so do not let it saying it is book 5 deter you if you haven’t had the opportunity to read the first 4 books. This is a fun Christmas story in true Marietta style." ~ 5 stars, Amazon Reviewer

"This one had me in tears, both the sad, the wishful and the happy tears that only a really good story that touches the heart can produce. I absolutely loved this couple and their romance. It’s a story that I know I’ll be re-reading for many Christmas seasons to come." ~ Marsha, Keeper Bookshelf - Read Marsha's entire review here.

"This lovely Christmas read about family and love and togetherness brings all the good bits of the festive season into a warm hug of a tale... The whole thing is irresistible with a romance that grows steadily throughout and characters that completely won my heart. Throw in the advent calendar and you’re left with a delightful Christmas read that’s packed with warmth and feelings of goodness. Definitely one of my favorite winter reads so far this year." ~ Book Gannet

Stocking Stuffer

Don't forget, His Christmas Miracle contains a Stocking Stuffer!

The story is built around an Advent calendar of activities. I had a designer create one you can download, print, colour and assemble with your little elves as you countdown to Christmas. The link is in the back of the book which you can purchase here:

Amazon

US | CA | UK | Aus | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

Book Trailer

Watch the book trailer for His Christmas Miracle.

Love In Montana

All of my books can be read as stand-alones, but His Christmas Miracle is Book Five in my Love In Montana series. (Or Book Six. Scorch ties into this series, but takes place in Glacier Creek, not Marietta.)

Book One: Hometown Hero

Book Two: Blame The Mistletoe

Book Three: The Bachelor's Baby

Book Four: His Blushing Bride

Book Four and a half: Scorch

Book Five: His Christmas Miracle (releases Oct 27, 2016)

Save - Buy The Boxed Set

Buy A Year Of Love In Marietta and you'll receive the first four books for $4.99*

*double-check price at time of purchase

Amazon US | CA | UK | Aus | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

Want to know more about my books? Join my newsletter. As a welcome gift, you'll receive a link to download Cruel Summer, a short ebook romance I wrote exclusively for my reader group.

Bites Of Books - His Christmas Miracle

The day I turned in His Christmas Miracle, my career as a published author turned thirty books old. I'm celebrating the milestone by offering a taste of each of my books in a series of blog posts I'm calling Bites Of Books. Enjoy!

All of my books can be read as stand-alones, but His Christmas Miracle is Book Five in my Love In Montana series. (Or Book Six. Scorch ties into this series, but takes place in Glacier Creek, not Marietta.)

In His Christmas Miracle, Quincy discovers he has a four-year-old son when he is handed custody of Atlas. He's out of his depth and hires Nicki as temporary nanny. Here they are ice skating at Miracle Lake. They've just stopped for cocoa.

~ * ~

They sat on the bench to sip it, watching the skaters. Petra and Flynn were goofing around, hugging and spinning together, laughing and nearly falling, very obviously in love.

Would that have been her if she had stayed in Glacier Creek? She hadn’t loved Corbin like that. That was the problem. He’d been sweet and kind, but she had thought herself destined for something greater. Not just fame, but something more epic on the love scale. She had known, way deep down, that what she had with him wasn’t the kind of bond that would withstand everything her idealistic self had thought she could achieve.

“Momma skated good,” Atlas said, gaze on the crowd.

“Did she?” Her arm went around him before she thought about it, sliding him tight into her side. “You must have skated with her a lot, since you’re so good at it.”

He looked up with his watery blue eyes and nodded. The corners of his mouth trembled.

“You know what I think, Atlas?” Her throat filled with sand. Her heart grew weighed with it. “I think you had a really good mom. It’s okay that you miss her.”

He nodded, chin crinkling, and turned his face into her jacket.

Nicki swallowed and set aside her cup, taking his to set it away too. Then wrapped both her arms around the boy and held him tight.

Quincy sat on the other side of the bench, leaning his elbows on his thighs, his cardboard cup dangling loosely between his hands. His profile was drawn and tight, anguished if you looked closely enough.

You have a really good dad, too, Atlas. She rubbed the boy’s back, tilting her head over his woolen hat, not saying it aloud because it wasn’t the time, but she wished on the miracle waters below them for Atlas to see the potential in his relationship with his father.

She wished for Quincy to find it easier to show his son how he felt.

“Oh, Atlas,” Petra said, skating up and crouching before the boy. “What happened? Did you fall?”

Atlas hiccupped and peeked at her, shaking his head.

“He’s just sad,” Nicki said, still running a soothing hand up and down the boy’s back. “That happens sometimes.”

Petra made a sympathetic noise. “Do you want to skate with me? Would that cheer you up?” She offered her hand, trying to coax him off the bench.

Atlas shook his head, rubbing his hat askew against Nicki’s jacket. “I wanna skate wiff my dad.” He pushed his hat out of the way and looked over at Quincy.

Surprise blanked Quincy’s face. He quickly recovered and said, “Sure. Now?”

Atlas nodded and accepted Quincy’s hand to help him slide off the bench, then let go, determined to be independent while his blades were on the ice. Before he took off, though, he looked way up at Quincy and said, “You skate good too.”

Nicki had to clutch her heart back into her chest and blink back tears.

“Everything okay?” Petra asked, concern wrinkling her brow as she looked from the departing Atlas and Quincy to what must be a very emotive expression on Nicki’s face.

“It will be. I think.” Pretty sure. Thank you Miracle Lake.

~ * ~

His Christmas Miracle contains a Stocking Stuffer!

Stocking Stuffer!

The story is built around an Advent calendar of activities. I had a designer create one you can download, print, colour and assemble with your little elves as you countdown to Christmas. The link is in the back of the book which you can purchase here:

Amazon

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Watch the book trailer for His Christmas Miracle.

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Bites Of Books - Taken By The Raider

I recently completed and submitted my thirtieth book. I'm celebrating by offering a taste from each one. Enjoy!

Some like it hot, so I'm giving you a bite from from one of my spicy books today. (The excerpt is safe for work, though!)

Taken By The Raider is a bad boy short. If you like the hotter reads, I'm including links at the bottom to all the rest of my super-hot books. Here's their first kiss, but it's a reunion story so, you know, not really their first kiss.

To catch you up: Griffen was Aubrey's boss, they had an affair and here she confronts him about a take-over of her new employer's company. Aubrey is recovering from walking pneumonia, not that Griffen knows that yet. He thinks she's sleeping with Drake, her new boss, and has been sent to 'negotiate' his backing down from the take-over.

~ * ~

Griffen remembered every little signal of desire she had ever projected. He had injected them like heroin—all those parted lips and panting breaths and quivering lashes. The pebbled nipples and soft swallows. The dampness he would bet every last cent he owned was showing on her French lingerie under her skirt.

Her posture made tiny adjustments, shoulders softening, neck exposing a fraction more, pheromones releasing between them so they started to feel drunk. He wasn’t imagining it. She was staring at his mouth like it was her last chance at salvation.

He didn’t even have to touch her. He started to lean in and she met him, releasing a little sobbing noise as she stepped forward and dug fingertips into his shoulders, came up on tiptoes and crushed her mouth under his.

These plump, bee-stung lips of hers haunted his dreams. He claimed them without reservation, hooking a hand behind her neck and feasting.

Then, as he felt her surrender, he straightened off the desk and pulled her into his body, relishing the press of her full breasts, the soft give of her stomach against his wood, the way she leaned in as though too weak to stand.

He didn’t know what it was about this woman that drew him so inexorably. Her fastidious demeanor, her cool intelligence, her sharp wit? The way she was wound up tight most of the time, but brought all that same passion to bed? All of it made for a heady package. And this—the way she shivered under the stroke of his hands like he gave her untold pleasure. She made him feel like a god.

It had been way too long.

He was a pillar of want, ready to turn and push her back onto his desk the way he had dozens of times before. The return to the familiar fostered both a laugh of triumph and a kick of danger.

He had made it easy for her to leave. He had been feeling stifled by that search in her eyes for something deeper, something he wasn’t capable of, so he’d sent a message that she needed to adjust her expectations.

Her quitting had blindsided him.

He had told himself it didn’t matter. Sex was available anywhere with anyone. It didn’t have to be her.

But he hadn’t found another woman who did this to him. She licked at his tongue and moaned and rubbed her pelvis into his with invitation, making the world recede so all he wanted was to penetrate.

Unless this was manipulation.

Ah, hell, he was forgetting this wasn’t a social visit. He had gone after Cutting Edge, confident she would show up and offer herself. Here she was and here they were.

But he wasn’t a man who borrowed or shared. He took. Owned.

She really should have remembered that about him.

Pulling back was an effort, but he did it. His nostrils flared to take in as much of her scent as he could. Better than perfume. Spring wind and tropical shampoo and her. All pressed up against him like she’d been ironed onto his shirt front.

She fluttered her eyes open, lips parted and shiny as she panted to catch her breath. He loved that look. She wore it when she was coming back from orgasm.

Confusion dimmed her golden-brown eyes. Recognition.

Regret?

She started to pull away, but he tightened his arms, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.

“Call him.” He sounded like a barbarian, voice guttural. “Tell him it’s over. Then we’ll get back to ‘negotiating.’”

“Let go,” she insisted, and pushed with more determination, but in a weak way that was a mixed signal.

He reluctantly loosened his grip and she staggered against the edge of the desk, leaning there, head hanging, forehead in her palm.

“Forgot about him, did you?” He was trying for mockery, but he listened intently for confirmation.

He had to fight the urge to yank her back, feeling barely this side of civilized as he wondered whether the good doctor provoked that same incendiary reaction in her.

Going after Cutting Edge was supposed to be a lark. Griffen was asserting his dominance for the simple reason that he hated to lose to anyone. Aubrey had taken her talents elsewhere, both in bed and out, and he still hadn’t found suitable replacements. That was annoying so he had arrogantly set out to prove he could get her back, both professionally and personally. He hadn’t counted on how much it would mean to him.

“Why—” She lifted her head to glare at him like their sexual explosion had surprised her.

How could it? It had always been like this.

“Why do I react to you like that?”

“Why do you resent it?” Then, because the idea pleased him so much, he asked, “Am I correct in assuming he doesn’t make you feel the same?”

Her expression blanked and he almost thought she was going to say, Who?

He was about to leap on that, but she winced and her hand went to her brow again. She struggled, expression growing distressed.

He felt a tug on his conscience, but made himself ignore it. “Call him.”

“I can’t do this, Griffen.” Her voice was so faint he barely heard her.

“Break up with him? Why the hell not?” He unconsciously shifted his weight into a balanced battle stance, mind fracturing with responses to whatever reply she gave.

“I can’t—” Her voice hit a wall and her gaze lost focus. Her hand fell like it was an object she discarded. She blinked, white lips parting, trying to say something while her face drained of what little color had been there, eyelids fluttering—

She was passing out.

He swore, leaping forward to catch her.

~ * ~

Amazon: US | CA | UK | Aus | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

Do you like hot reads? Also check out:

Mastering Her Role
Playing The Master (Kindle Unlimited exclusive)
The Secret In Room 823

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