Archive for July, 2010

New Cave Release – Nicole Austin

A standalone title in the Cougar Challenge series.

With the big four-oh looming, Larissa Cross is more than ready to shed the roles that have defined her and make drastic changes. Gone are the widowed Army wife, soccer mom and empty nester. She’s even setting aside the schoolteacher until fall.

A naughty challenge issued by fellow erotic romance booklovers on their blog, Tempt the Cougar, has come at the perfect time and ignited Rissa’s competitive drive. It’s going to be a glorious summer full of hot younger man lovin’ for a new cougar on the prowl. Rawr!

Tattooed and pierced fireman JD Harmon is tempting prey but there’s much more to the hunk than his bad boy good looks. A one-night stand isn’t in his plans, and sex—no matter how mind-blowing—won’t distract him from his goals. JD intends to tame the wicked cougar and stake a claim on her heart.

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.

An Excerpt From: SUMMER OF THE COUGAR

Copyright © NICOLE AUSTIN, 2010

All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

The spicy scent of chorizo and onions grilling in the skillet had her stomach growling. She scrambled in some eggs and raisins then the completed dish went into the warm oven along with a plate of fresh tortillas. Earlier she’d made salsa and set the table. But she was hungry for more than food. Rissa had every intention of getting JD on the menu.

She headed for her laptop to check email when someone knocked on the door. Glancing at the clock she noted how fast he’d made the drive. She started talking as she opened the door. “Wow, you made good ti—”

The sight of JD waiting on her doorstep, smiling at her broadly, had the words dying in her dry throat as Rissa nearly swallowed her tongue. She’d imagined how he’d look out of the uniform. Her imagination had nothing on reality.

Washed so many times the material was nearly threadbare, his blue T-shirt bore the fire department emblem and lovingly conformed to his chiseled torso. Intricate lines of a black tattoo that accentuated his huge biceps disappeared under his left sleeve. She longed to trace all those twisting, twirling lines with the tip of her tongue, and contemplated how much skin they covered.

He’d tucked the shirt into a faded pair of low-riding shorts that failed to disguise the thick bulge that extended all the way to his left hip. Saliva flooded her mouth and she wondered how he’d taste. Her breasts felt swollen and heavy, and with each ragged breath her rock-hard nipples rasped against her top. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Rissa realized more than her mouth had gotten wet.

“Damn, honey. You’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”

He lifted his right hand and held out a red fire extinguisher bearing a festive streamer of multicolored ribbons. How had she failed to notice the large red cylinder dangling from his fist? “I brought you a present.”

“Um…thanks.” Rather unique gift.

“When you get another car, I want you to put that in the trunk so I’ll know you’re safe.”

Awww!

The sweet gesture left her speechless. For several long moments she stared into his dark eyes. Reflected in their depths she saw the potential for a future. A long-lasting relationship.

Rissa shook her head to dispel the rather disturbing idea. She wanted to live, have fun, sample all the different flavors she’d never tasted—not tie herself to one man. No matter how sweet and sexy and thoughtful he might be.

Breakfast. They were supposed to be having breakfast.

“Come on in.” Stepping back from the door, she allowed him to enter her home. Not sure what else to do with it, she put his gift in the hall closet. Turning back toward him, she said, “I hope you’re hungry. I cooked—”

The breath rushed from her lungs as her back came up against the wall. Warmth and JD’s masculine scent enveloped her as his hard body fitted against her soft curves. It was a glorious fit. His body caged hers and his fingers bracketed her face, holding her in place.

“I’m starved.” His voice rumbled close to her ear. “For you.” Then his lips, soft yet firm, brushed along her jaw, moving slowly toward her mouth. She could have ducked or turned her head away. Longing for his kiss, she did neither. At the first touch of his lips to hers, Rissa spontaneously combusted. Fire raced across her skin and her blood turned to molten lava. From head to toe she burned and her toes curled into the carpet.

Dios, she might need that fire extinguisher to put out the flames.

He claimed her mouth in a scorching hot kiss and her lips opened wide, inviting him inside. JD accepted her summons. His tongue thrust into her mouth, slid against hers and she moaned as his bold and sweet taste washed over her like warm, delicious honey. Without conscious thought, she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him.

JD took over, exploring her mouth with his tongue, drinking down her needy moans and whimpers. Her breasts were crushed against his chest and everywhere they touched, from shoulder to knee, his body heat left a wake of desire licking at her skin.

She had never been so thoroughly and completely kissed. And if the shudders that shook his body were any indication, she wasn’t alone. Their kiss had the same potent effect on him.

The heady mating of their mouths ended way too soon. Resting his forehead against hers, JD stared into her eyes as they both struggled to find solid footing. Her body hummed with desire, aching and ready for more. She wanted so much more.

“Damn, baby,” he panted. “You’re burning me alive.”

Burning him? He’s the one who started the inferno. He damn well needed to do something other than stare at her. Preferably something involving the long, thick erection that had left its impression branded over her abdomen.

“Now that we have the first kiss out of the way, we can relax and enjoy breakfast.”

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Happy Release Day, Nicole Austin!

A standalone title in the Cougar Challenge series.

With the big four-oh looming, Larissa Cross is more than ready to shed the roles that have defined her and make drastic changes. Gone are the widowed Army wife, soccer mom and empty nester. She’s even setting aside the schoolteacher until fall.

A naughty challenge issued by fellow erotic romance booklovers on their blog, Tempt the Cougar, has come at the perfect time and ignited Rissa’s competitive drive. It’s going to be a glorious summer full of hot younger man lovin’ for a new cougar on the prowl. Rawr!

Tattooed and pierced fireman JD Harmon is tempting prey but there’s much more to the hunk than his bad boy good looks. A one-night stand isn’t in his plans, and sex—no matter how mind-blowing—won’t distract him from his goals. JD intends to tame the wicked cougar and stake a claim on her heart.


Eagle’s Refuge – Regina Carlysle

Mac Moreno has been left one third of a ranch by a father who barely acknowledged Mac’s existence. He struggles to come to terms with this fact, as well as accepting his life now contains a half brother and half sister. He has yet to move into his property on the ranch, living for now in a room in the club he runs. I got the sense he was a lonely man longing to settle down, but with no woman in Morgan’s Creek gaining his attention like that, what was he to do?

Callista Hill arrives in Morgan’s Creek to start afresh. Her ex is decidedly weird, and she needs to distance herself from him so she can move on with her life. She meets Mac, and their attraction is obvious right from the start. I rooted for the couple to become permanent, paving the way for them to have a happy and fulfilling life.
One thing I noticed while reading is that Regina Carlysle has a talent for taking me to the place she’s writing about without me realising I’m still reading. I saw the first bar scene in particular like I was watching a movie, and I felt the atmosphere and saw the surroundings as though really there. I’m not one for cowboy tales, never really picked one up before, but Eagle’s Refuge made me change my mind.
I also imagined the eagle that featured at the beginning and the end was Mac’s father in a different form, that he had come back to welcome Mac to the ranch at the start and to tell him he belonged there at the end. A poignant moment that had me thinking of the times in my own life when something similar has happened and I wished the deceased person was that butterfly or cat or whatever that came up to me at the time of thinking about a loved one who has passed.
To sum this review up, I would recommend Eagle’s Refuge to any reader of erotic material, and I’d like to paste my favourite line that brought lovely imagery to mind: Mac squinted at the violently blue Texas sky and watched a lone eagle glide through that vivid palette to land on the roof of the barn where it pierced him with an unblinking gaze. Lovely, just lovely.
I’m looking forward to reading Ms. Carlysle’s next book, Trouble in a Stetson. I think I’ve become a cowboy fan!

Talking BDSM with Lakota Phillips

The very talented Lakota Phillips posted this picture on Facebook, which prompted a discussion about BDSM and the lifestyle, one I waded in on. Which brings me here to this blog post.

Years ago, the title BDSM made me say “Oooer!” and think of people hurting one another. I didn’t know a thing about it, so when I decided to write a BDSM tale I bought a true-life book about a woman who dominated men for a living. She had a need to do this, and having such a job afforded her the release she needed—one other people didn’t understand or care to. She was frank, explained what the men required of her, and took me into a whole new world that brought me awareness to my fellow human beings who like being dominated, not just in the bedroom, but in everyday life.

One man visited her and requested that she flick his nipples (EDIT* I previously wrote manhood due to my bad memory!) with a coin until he bled. Now, to some people that is mightily odd and just plain weird, but to him it wasn’t. When the Dom did this to him he felt whole and left her company feeling better within himself. When the need to have her do this again arrived—say, when life got stressy and he needed release—he’d arrive by appointment and she’d serve him again. What is wrong to one man isn’t wrong to another. In my opinion, we don’t have the right to judge this man and his desires, nor do we have the right to judge this woman for the profession she has chosen. They both needed fulfilling. He hurt no one. She did her job. End of story.

I wrote my books, loved writing them too, then started a new one. For this book I needed to research men who allowed their women complete control over every aspect of their lives. To the outside world it would appear the couple lived ‘ordinary’ (whatever the hell that is) lives, but the couple had some unspoken thing going on where they were able to appear ‘normal’ yet practise their lifestyle at the same time. For example: Man and woman have friends round for dinner. Before the guests arrived, the woman had told her husband she didn’t want him eating his food until she gave him the sign—even if the food went cold. The husband was happy to do this. If he accomplished what she’d asked, she’d reward him by allowing him to touch her in bed later that night. The dinner began, and the husband covered up his non-eating by chattering about work and making it appear he was enjoying his meal by cutting his steak every so often. After about ten minutes, the wife nodded and he was allowed to eat. During this time, the man explained that the promise of what would happen later if he did as she’d asked gave him a sense of serving the woman he adored and made him feel good about himself.

Now, to some folks this would seem weird, a little whacky, but for this couple it worked. It’s what they have chosen to do. Like I said on the Facebook thread beneath Lakota’s picture, many people just don’t understand this kind of lifestyle so look upon it as odd or even wrong. Who is to say it’s wrong if both parties are in agreement as to how their relationship progresses? What has it got to do with anyone what this couple do if it isn’t hurting others? Just because something doesn’t fit the mould of what folks think is the ‘norm’, it doesn’t mean it’s wrong. It’s just different, a lifestyle choice two loving people have chosen, a path they wish to walk. They’re not forcing anyone else to walk that path, nor do they, as some people think, go around recruiting people for weird cults they belong to. It isn’t a bloody cult, for God’s sake. It isn’t wrong or bad. It’s just their life. I know someone in my real life who thought, after hearing the term ‘dungeon’, that everyone dresses in cloaks and meets up once a week in a dank, dark basement to perform sexual rituals. Oh, please. Watch TV programmes and believe them much? These things most probably do occur somewhere in the world, but I would bet it’s nothing whatsoever to do with the lifestyle practised by most couples.

With this subject, I was pleasantly surprised about the depth of love and feeling these couples have for one another. Their trust levels are very high—actually to a beautiful degree, where they know their partner inside and out, know their boundaries and feel comfortable with that one person who understands them totally. Of course, you can have this level of trust in your relationship anyway, without the lifestyle even coming into it, but if only people would just open their minds and find some understanding for their fellow man’s choices instead of brushing it off as strange. Doesn’t mean we have to jump into the lifestyle ourselves, does it?

I don’t practise it, but as I said on Facebook, I have respect for those who do. I have friends who are lifestylers, and they’re just everyday people who explore their relationships and bedroom likes and dislikes in a different way to me. Doesn’t mean, just because they do something I wouldn’t do, that they’re not welcome in my life. Plus, lifestylers—and if that term offends anyone, I’m sorry, I just don’t know what else to call it!—in my experience, have been some of the nicest people I know.

Yes, there are aspects of the lifestyle where pain is involved. Some people get pleasure from pain, and if that’s their bag, then good for them. But they bleed and hurt and cry and laugh just like everyone else. Remember, they are everyday folks who have the same battles in life: paying bills, loving their families, trying to fit a shopping trip into an already busy day, and any number of lifey things. Just like you and me.

“Actually I’m on a mission to change the world or at least help it be more open minded…as many as I can reach anyway. 😛 I’m a bit too nonconformist to follow any rules of any group. BDSM is a fascinating topic to study and I do like exploring my own kinky boundaries… As long as it’s consensual, safe and sane, why the hell should anyone else care?” ~ Lakota Phillips

“It takes less strength to control than it does to give up control and psychologically for those with trust issues it can be a healthy exercise in conquering the internal demons that cause those personal conflicts. There is also amazing connections made between people when strong, alpha personalities do choose to give up control to their partner because it is so difficult for them to turn over the reins.” ~ Lakota Phillips

Lakota Phillips’ Links:

http://lakotaphillips.blogspot.com
http://www.NewDissidentRadio.com/
http://www.myNDR.com/
http://www.moronicox.com
http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=790469387#!/lakotaphillips


Happy Release Day, Desiree!

Book one in the Sequins, Saddles and Spurs series.

Stranded in Mesa Blanco, Texas, with no money and no prospects, Emily Lathrop hires on as the cook at the Lazy Aces Ranch. Two problems—she can’t cook, and owner Wyatt Cavanaugh is so hot she nearly burns herself just standing near him. Trying to keep her hormones under control is a problem when Wyatt seduces her into his bed and teaches her the real meaning of erotic love.

Now proper Emily finds herself shockingly addicted to the BDSM games he likes to play, her body craving the bondage and domination that pushes her thermostat past the point of combustion even though she suspects it’s all going to come crashing down any moment with a big, painful thud.

 

 

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.

An Excerpt From: TROUBLE IN COWBOY BOOTS

Copyright © DESIREE HOLT, 2010

All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One

Emily Proctor slammed the hood of the car and looked at her two friends.

“I don’t have a clue what’s wrong with this clunker, but I jiggled everything I could. See if it starts now.”

They’d set out from Las Vegas, the three of them, refugees from downsizing, with nothing but this whale-sized bucket of bolts, a few possessions, prepaid cell phones for emergencies and the grand total of three hundred dollars between them. West, there was only California and LaLa Land so they’d headed east, away from the desert heat. They’d expected the car to break down somewhere, just not on a highway with nothing around them except pastures and cattle. They hadn’t even passed another vehicle in almost an hour. And it was hotter than nine kinds of hell.

Emily’d pulled her thick mane of sable hair back into a pony tail. Now she lifted it off her neck where it rested limply and used it to fan her skin. If this was a nightmare, she wanted to wake up right this minute.

Lola Lamont wriggled in behind the wheel. One blonde curl from the mass of curls piled haphazardly on her head and held in place with a clip fell forward onto her forehead and she brushed it impatiently away. Stretching out her long, showgirl legs and straightening the t-shirt that barely concealed breasts that were the envy of every other girl in the shows, she worked herself into place on the seat. Letting out a long, slow breath, she carefully turned the key. The motor coughed, gurgled, groaned and finally turned over with a sound that set all their teeth on edge.

“At least it started again.” Lola sighed. The 1966 pink Cadillac convertible was her contribution to their road trip. “This old gal has been very good to me.”

“It may be time to put her to sleep,” Roxie snorted.

“Roxie!” Lola did her best to look affronted.

“I’m with Rox,” Emily put in. “You think this hunk of junk will at least get us to the next town?”

Leaning against the car, Roxie fanned herself with her hand. “It better, or we’re gonna burn up like fried chicken.”

“All right.” Emily dusted her hands off on the seat of her jeans shorts. “Rox, get in the car. Lola, you drive. Roll all the windows down to catch some kind of breeze and pray as you never have before that we hit civilization before this thing rolls over for the last time.”

The grand adventure they’d tried to make this was turning into a grand pain in the ass. If they didn’t light somewhere soon they’d be in bigger trouble than they’d had in Vegas.

No one said a word as they rolled down the highway, each mile unwinding beneath them with unbearable slowness. Emily knew they were sending up silent prayers to the gods and the fates and anyone else who would listen.

Please, please, let us land somewhere safe.

Just as the engine was beginning to make threatening noises again, signs of life emerged. Smack in the middle of the highway sat a town. If you could call it that, Emily thought. A far cry from the glitz and glitter of Las Vegas.

But it had a main street, cross streets running into it and, lord have mercy, a cafe, where the car heaved its last and died.

“At least we’ll be able to get something cold to drink,” Roxie sighed.

“You better hope it’s cheap,” Lola warned. “Maybe we could all share one.”

“Maybe we could just go inside and see what’s what.” Emily blew a stray hair away from her face. How in god’s name had she ever thought this would be fun?

‘“What’s what’ better be a way to get that hunk of junk fixed,” Roxie said, climbing out of the car.

“As if.” Lola tugged on her very tight white shorts and brushed at her hot pink tank top. “The only way that’s gonna happen is if we rob a bank or win the lottery.”

“Right now we don’t even have money for a lottery ticket,” Emily reminded her and sighed. “Okay. Let’s go see what’s inside. Hopefully they have air conditioning or we might sweat to death.”

The inside of Blue Belle’s looked so cheerful Emily almost threw up. Booths among one wall were upholstered in what she could only call an electric blue and the scattering of tables and chairs had cheap vases of artificial blue flowers on them. Every available space on the wall was filled with more pictures of bluebonnets than she’d ever seen. Not that she’d seen that many.

At three o’clock in the afternoon the place was mostly empty. The first thing Emily noticed was the blast of cool air that greeted them. The second was the three men sitting at a corner table. They all looked up as the women trooped in. If Emily had been in a better mood she’d have checked them out. Right now all she wanted was cold liquid, not a hot man.

The three of them plunked down in chairs at a table near the door. Roxie picked up the menus stuck between the salt and pepper shakers and fanned herself. A woman in jeans and a blouse the loudest blue Emily had ever seen came out from behind the lunch counter.

“Y’all look like you’ve just been dragged through hell,” she commented. “What can I get for you?”

Roxie stopped fanning herself and looked at the plastic-covered menu. “We’ll have the large Coke.”

“All of you?” the waitress asked.

“One coke,” Emily told her. “Three straws.”

The woman stared at them for a long minute then shrugged. “Okay. One Coke. Three straws.”

“Couldn’t we each just get a small one?” Lola whined.

Emily bit back the retort that bubbled up. “Even a small one is more than two dollars,” she hissed. “They probably think they’ll get rich on strangers coming through.”

The woman returned with a huge glass filled with the bubbly soda, plunked it down on the table and slammed three paper-wrapped straws beside it.

“She probably figures she won’t be getting as tip,” Lola giggled.

“She’s right,” Emily said and picked up one of the straws.

They were each taking small sips, savoring the icy cold liquid, when the waitress returned with two more large glasses of coke and set them on the table.

Emily looked up at her. “Um, we didn’t order those.”

“I know.” The woman’s voice could have curdled milk. “Your friends over there did.”

“My friends?” Emily frowned. “I don’t have any friends here.”

“You do now.”

The voice was deep and so smooth it sent shivers of delight dancing along her spine. She was vaguely aware of a chair scraping on the floor next to her and a body folding down into it. When she forced herself to look at the occupant she nearly lost it. A typical cowboy hat sat atop a head with thick, sun-streaked brown hair long enough to touch the collar of his chambray shirt. Hazel eyes with flecks of amber and green were watching her with an amused look. Sensuous lips turned up in a slight grin that softened the harsh angles and planes of his very masculine face. Faded jeans covered long legs that he crossed with one ankle resting on the other knee, giving her a good look at dusty, but obviously expensive, cowboy boots. Hand tooled. Emily had seen enough of them on high rollers in Vegas.


New Cave Release – Desiree Holt

Book one in the Sequins, Saddles and Spurs series.

Stranded in Mesa Blanco, Texas, with no money and no prospects, Emily Lathrop hires on as the cook at the Lazy Aces Ranch. Two problems—she can’t cook, and owner Wyatt Cavanaugh is so hot she nearly burns herself just standing near him. Trying to keep her hormones under control is a problem when Wyatt seduces her into his bed and teaches her the real meaning of erotic love.

Now proper Emily finds herself shockingly addicted to the BDSM games he likes to play, her body craving the bondage and domination that pushes her thermostat past the point of combustion even though she suspects it’s all going to come crashing down any moment with a big, painful thud.

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.

An Excerpt From: TROUBLE IN COWBOY BOOTS

Copyright © DESIREE HOLT, 2010

All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One

Emily Proctor slammed the hood of the car and looked at her two friends.

“I don’t have a clue what’s wrong with this clunker, but I jiggled everything I could. See if it starts now.”

They’d set out from Las Vegas, the three of them, refugees from downsizing, with nothing but this whale-sized bucket of bolts, a few possessions, prepaid cell phones for emergencies and the grand total of three hundred dollars between them. West, there was only California and LaLa Land so they’d headed east, away from the desert heat. They’d expected the car to break down somewhere, just not on a highway with nothing around them except pastures and cattle. They hadn’t even passed another vehicle in almost an hour. And it was hotter than nine kinds of hell.

Emily’d pulled her thick mane of sable hair back into a pony tail. Now she lifted it off her neck where it rested limply and used it to fan her skin. If this was a nightmare, she wanted to wake up right this minute.

Lola Lamont wriggled in behind the wheel. One blonde curl from the mass of curls piled haphazardly on her head and held in place with a clip fell forward onto her forehead and she brushed it impatiently away. Stretching out her long, showgirl legs and straightening the t-shirt that barely concealed breasts that were the envy of every other girl in the shows, she worked herself into place on the seat. Letting out a long, slow breath, she carefully turned the key. The motor coughed, gurgled, groaned and finally turned over with a sound that set all their teeth on edge.

“At least it started again.” Lola sighed. The 1966 pink Cadillac convertible was her contribution to their road trip. “This old gal has been very good to me.”

“It may be time to put her to sleep,” Roxie snorted.

“Roxie!” Lola did her best to look affronted.

“I’m with Rox,” Emily put in. “You think this hunk of junk will at least get us to the next town?”

Leaning against the car, Roxie fanned herself with her hand. “It better, or we’re gonna burn up like fried chicken.”

“All right.” Emily dusted her hands off on the seat of her jeans shorts. “Rox, get in the car. Lola, you drive. Roll all the windows down to catch some kind of breeze and pray as you never have before that we hit civilization before this thing rolls over for the last time.”

The grand adventure they’d tried to make this was turning into a grand pain in the ass. If they didn’t light somewhere soon they’d be in bigger trouble than they’d had in Vegas.

No one said a word as they rolled down the highway, each mile unwinding beneath them with unbearable slowness. Emily knew they were sending up silent prayers to the gods and the fates and anyone else who would listen.

Please, please, let us land somewhere safe.

Just as the engine was beginning to make threatening noises again, signs of life emerged. Smack in the middle of the highway sat a town. If you could call it that, Emily thought. A far cry from the glitz and glitter of Las Vegas.

But it had a main street, cross streets running into it and, lord have mercy, a cafe, where the car heaved its last and died.

“At least we’ll be able to get something cold to drink,” Roxie sighed.

“You better hope it’s cheap,” Lola warned. “Maybe we could all share one.”

“Maybe we could just go inside and see what’s what.” Emily blew a stray hair away from her face. How in god’s name had she ever thought this would be fun?

‘“What’s what’ better be a way to get that hunk of junk fixed,” Roxie said, climbing out of the car.

“As if.” Lola tugged on her very tight white shorts and brushed at her hot pink tank top. “The only way that’s gonna happen is if we rob a bank or win the lottery.”

“Right now we don’t even have money for a lottery ticket,” Emily reminded her and sighed. “Okay. Let’s go see what’s inside. Hopefully they have air conditioning or we might sweat to death.”

The inside of Blue Belle’s looked so cheerful Emily almost threw up. Booths among one wall were upholstered in what she could only call an electric blue and the scattering of tables and chairs had cheap vases of artificial blue flowers on them. Every available space on the wall was filled with more pictures of bluebonnets than she’d ever seen. Not that she’d seen that many.

At three o’clock in the afternoon the place was mostly empty. The first thing Emily noticed was the blast of cool air that greeted them. The second was the three men sitting at a corner table. They all looked up as the women trooped in. If Emily had been in a better mood she’d have checked them out. Right now all she wanted was cold liquid, not a hot man.

The three of them plunked down in chairs at a table near the door. Roxie picked up the menus stuck between the salt and pepper shakers and fanned herself. A woman in jeans and a blouse the loudest blue Emily had ever seen came out from behind the lunch counter.

“Y’all look like you’ve just been dragged through hell,” she commented. “What can I get for you?”

Roxie stopped fanning herself and looked at the plastic-covered menu. “We’ll have the large Coke.”

“All of you?” the waitress asked.

“One coke,” Emily told her. “Three straws.”

The woman stared at them for a long minute then shrugged. “Okay. One Coke. Three straws.”

“Couldn’t we each just get a small one?” Lola whined.

Emily bit back the retort that bubbled up. “Even a small one is more than two dollars,” she hissed. “They probably think they’ll get rich on strangers coming through.”

The woman returned with a huge glass filled with the bubbly soda, plunked it down on the table and slammed three paper-wrapped straws beside it.

“She probably figures she won’t be getting as tip,” Lola giggled.

“She’s right,” Emily said and picked up one of the straws.

They were each taking small sips, savoring the icy cold liquid, when the waitress returned with two more large glasses of coke and set them on the table.

Emily looked up at her. “Um, we didn’t order those.”

“I know.” The woman’s voice could have curdled milk. “Your friends over there did.”

“My friends?” Emily frowned. “I don’t have any friends here.”

“You do now.”

The voice was deep and so smooth it sent shivers of delight dancing along her spine. She was vaguely aware of a chair scraping on the floor next to her and a body folding down into it. When she forced herself to look at the occupant she nearly lost it. A typical cowboy hat sat atop a head with thick, sun-streaked brown hair long enough to touch the collar of his chambray shirt. Hazel eyes with flecks of amber and green were watching her with an amused look. Sensuous lips turned up in a slight grin that softened the harsh angles and planes of his very masculine face. Faded jeans covered long legs that he crossed with one ankle resting on the other knee, giving her a good look at dusty, but obviously expensive, cowboy boots. Hand tooled. Emily had seen enough of them on high rollers in Vegas.


Happy Release Day, Juniper Bell!

How is one innocent country girl to choose between a Duke, a Marquis and an Earl? Must she?

When Miss Alicia Silverwood marries the Earl of Dorchester, he whisks her off to Notre Plaisir, a country manor where erotic surprises await in the company of three powerful lords.

The young Earl needs a wife and heir. The cynical Marquis de Beaumont needs a playmate. And the commanding Duke of Warrington needs a reason to live. As for the new Lady Dorchester, she’s about to discover the true nature of her own sensual needs. On top of that, she’s falling in love.

It might take a miracle for Lady Alicia and her three lords to come to an arrangement that makes them all happy. Or perhaps all that’s required is a little scandalous rule-breaking.

Reader Advisory: Contains an m/m/f/m ménage with brief m/m sex, as well as a deflowering and much sweet loving.