Could it be? Is it finally here? Oh my! One of our favorite parties each year and we have so many awesome authors and prizes for you!
Today (8/30/14) check out Sarah Grimm at: http://www.sarahgrimm.com
Also check out our featured authors today!
In 1800, Kojo is a native African with deep connections to the spirits—but those spirits choose not to save him from the slaving ship. He’s captured and taken aboard, where he meets Captain Mather. During the long journey to America, not even the spirits can save him from their growing attraction. Love blooms. A doomed love. For when they land, Kojo’s fate is to be sold.
Captain Mather can’t imagine Kojo being treated as a slave. Desperate to spare him from that life, the captain hides him, taking him to his home. When he’s blackmailed by a mutinous former crewmember, there seems little choice but to sell his ship and pay. Anything to save the man he loves.
Mather dipped a rag into the bucket of water and then approached Kojo slowly. He didn’t want to make any sudden moves. The man had a look about him like a confused animal and confused could be dangerous.
Searching his memory for the word for wash, Mather came up blank. If he couldn’t tell him he’d have to show him. He took the rag and washed his own face first. Then wetted the rag again and then pressed it on Kojo’s forehead, looking into his eyes, trying to gauge his emotion. The man tensed but didn’t move. His eyes seemed distant as if he was somewhere else.
Tenderly, he wiped the dirt and grime off Kojo’s face. “See it doesn’t hurt. I want to be your friend.” Kojo couldn’t understand him, but the tone of his voice was soft and soothing.
By the time he worked his way down Kojo’s neck to the plane of his chest, the man relaxed. His vision returned to focusing on a spot in the room, on what he didn’t know. Mather took extra time on his chest, tracing his muscles which had thinned to wiry ropes. He rubbed one of Kojo’s dusky nipples and the man sucked in air. He leaned into his touch, as though silently pleading for more. Mather continued playing with the nipple until it formed a stiff peak. He gave the other nipple the same attention before moving lower.
Kojo blushed and Mather bit his tongue to hold back a chuckle. He wetted the rag again and slowly washed down to Kojo’s hips. He inched down the valley of Kojo’s powerful thighs, first the right then the left. Kojo’s cock thickened and his breaths came faster.
Mather nearly groaned. His core heated and his balls tightened, but he resisted the temptation.
Liquid Silver Books: http://www.lsbooks.com/saltwater-lover-p863.php
Shiloh Saddler likes to do research for her steamy romances first hand. She has invented a time machine and travels back to the 19th century on a regular basis. There are experimental settings on her time machine which could propel her into the future and even other worlds. She believes love and a good book makes anything possible.
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Here’s an adult excerpt from Pack of Lies, my just-released paranormal erotic romance novel. If you love werewolves and lots of thrilling action in your books, then check out Pack of Lies. It’s already gaining some fantastic reviews! And, until the end of the month you can grab it with a 25% rebate from All Romance eBooks :)
“Yeah,” Nathaniel said nonchalantly, glancing down at the ink. “Don’t ask me what it means. I was young and stupid, thought it would be cool. It’s not significant in any way, I’m afraid. But at least it’s nice.”
Relaxing, Isaac grinned. It might have been meaningless but it was still hot. “Yeah, it is. Mind if I get a closer look?”
Flopping onto his back, Nathaniel folded his arms behind his head. “Be my guest.”
Crawling down the bed, Isaac settled between Nathaniel’s thighs, having another long, lingering look at the beautiful man in front of him. Then he reached out a tentative hand and grasped Nathaniel’s cock, which was long and thick but in perfect proportion with the rest of him and surrounded by closely trimmed pubic hair. It was then he noticed something which made him stop dead.
“Fuuuck!” he said, leaning in to get a closer look. “You’re pierced.”
Nathaniel’s grin was wide, wicked. “Yeah. Got a problem with that?”
“Christ, no. I’ve never seen one in real life before. It’s fucking hot.” With his free hand he reached for his own cock, giving it a couple of pumps just to relieve a little pressure. Then, having gazed at the silver bar that decorated the tip of Nathaniel’s dick for long enough, he lowered his head to see how it tasted.
Sticking out his tongue, he ran it over the metal, surprised that it was warm. Not as warm as Nathaniel’s skin, but not cold as he’d expected. A thrill ran through him as he realized that not only was he about to suck the cock of the most gorgeous man he’d ever met, but that he was experiencing something totally new—a rarity in someone his age. The slight taste of the metal was quickly overshadowed by the slick of precum that hit his taste buds, then the musk of Nathaniel’s skin. The combination made his mouth water and he immediately sank farther down the other man’s shaft, closing his lips around it, ready to create some suction.
A glance up the bed told him that although Nathaniel had appeared very laid back, almost cocky, when Isaac had said he was going for “a closer look”, now his hands were no longer behind his head—they were gripping the duvet. His expression was priceless—Isaac hadn’t even really gotten going yet and Nathaniel’s jaw was slack, his eyes glazed over. Huh. Maybe it had been a while for him too.
He felt the other man’s entire body tense up as he swallowed as much of his cock as possible, then began sucking in earnest, making sure he allowed plenty of saliva to lubricate proceedings. The wetter the better, in his opinion.
Placing his hands on the insides of Nathaniel’s thighs, he pushed them as far apart as they would go, then trailed one hand down to play with the other man’s balls. They were shaven completely smooth, and he gently rolled and tugged at the sac, figuring out what really got Nathaniel going. Everything, it seemed. Every touch elicited another moan from those sinful lips, another blasphemy. He was so hot, so responsive, that Isaac felt just as horny from doing the pleasuring as he would have from being pleasured.
Bobbing his head up and down faster on Nathaniel’s cock, he took advantage of the saliva that had dribbled down into the other man’s crack and slicked it across his perineum, smiling around his shaft as it jerked deeper into his mouth. Then he ventured farther back, seeking the crinkled skin that was Nathaniel’s arsehole. Once he got there, he circled it with his finger, over and over, both stimulating and lubricating the area. Creeping his finger forward again, he gathered more wetness and repeated his action, only this time, when he felt the other man was ready, he pushed the very tip of his finger inside the tight hole.
Grab your copy here: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/pack-of-lies/
Add it to Goodreads here: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22756241-pack-of-lies
Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She ownsErotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9
Daniel had images of Rafael bending him over the interrogation room table as Jesse prepared to go in to interview him. “Go easy on him?”
Jesse dramatically gasps “He’s a pro.”
“Yeah he is,” Daniel said with a smug grin.
Jesse’s eyes lit up. “You dog.”
“Tell Raf to stay in there when you two are done. I have um…” He coughed. “Business to take care of after.”
Jesse pointed a finger at him then shook his head. “Tell him yourself.” He turned to walk into the room and Daniel shrugged following him. “I told you to stay out.”
“I’ll be good,” Daniel said.
“Doubtful.” Jesse took a seat and turned to Rafael.
Rafael wore a coy grin as he tracked Daniel with his gaze. When Daniel moved to take a seat next to Jesse Rafael shook his head. “Come sit at my feet like a good boy.”
Daniel slipped around the table to lots of eye rolling from Jesse, but he didn’t care. It had been two days since he’d had Rafael naked and he was anxious for some alone time.
“You know how this works.” The graph paper had already begun to be written on and Rafael laughed remembering what Daniel had told him about Jesse always staying with in the lines. “Shall we?”
“Twenty-three.” Rafael says with a wicked grin across his face, pushing his fingers into Daniel’s hair when his submissive laid his head on his knee.
Jesse shook his head and wrote something down in the squares.
“Hey, don’t put me down as being fifty or something I’m the hero of this show.”
Jesse lifted his head and gave a wink. “Not for long. Next book is all mine.”
“As your lawyer I am advising you to think carefully before answering this one, Rafael.” Jesse grinned.
“Professional Dominant.” Rafael snapped, “And I usually get paid really well, but I’m thinking about doing you pro bono.”
Jesse noticeably perked. “Don’t make promises your boyfriend will be mad at you for keeping.”
“‘He can beat your ass. I have no objections,” Daniel said.
Jesse stiffened and shifted.
Can you tell us the story of Legally Bound?
Rafael’s face falls a little. “I get fucked over for the whole book. I hook up with a guy and have the best night of my life, shortly followed by what turns out to be the worst when McCoy has his boys haul me in on bullshit charges, then I come face to face with the guy I fucked the night before. He’s my lawyer and you were his partner.” He looks up for a moment before going on.
“It was a hard pill for my ego to swallow. But Daniel did some fancy talking and.” Rafael runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “Daniel went from being the guy, to the lawyer, to someone I can’t live without. We have a lot thrown at us in Legally Bound, but here I am with him.” He tugged on Daniel’s hair. “You know the rest and I wouldn’t change it.”
Where do you see yourself in 10 years time?
“Inside Daniel.” There is no hesitation to his answer.
Daniel wears a smug grin as he moves between Rafael’s legs. Jesse watches as Daniel buries his face in Rafael’s groin.
“Will you two cut it out?!?” Jesse stammers.
Rafael’s legs fall wider apart giving Daniel more access to him growing erection. “We won’t.”
Daniel mutters but it’s incoherent.
“Maybe you should give us a few minutes unless you want a free show,” Rafael groans reaching for the top button on his leather pants.
Daniel claws at the hem trying to tug him free before Rafael even has his zipper down, saying something that sounds like an agreement with Rafael.
Jesse pushes his tongue into his cheek. “Or I can stay for the free show.”
Rafael snarls and Jesse gets to his feet mumbling under his breath as he leaves.
“You’re such a good boy. Look how fast you got rid of him, and you told me it would be hard.” Rafael looks down tugging Daniel’s face up so their gazes meet.
“I like being a good boy for you, Sir.” He eagerly grasps Rafael’s thick length fighting against the hand in his hair to try and get to it.
“Good, because I have plans for you.”
Find J.R. Gray online:
She offers satisfaction above and beyond what is requested.
Lexie’s job as a housekeeper at a five-star hotel doesn’t normally include the unique and risqué form of room service that important hotel guest Mr. Malena has requested, nor the generous tip he’s offered. Lexie can’t resist, and what should have been a one-time thing turns into an introduction into the sensual world of customer satisfaction. She finds much enjoyment in her “work,” but is it worth risking her job?
Publisher: Musa Publishing
Genre: Contemporary Erotica, MF, MFM
Themes: BDSM (D/s)
** Read Chapter One Online **
“So what else is there? Sex, right?”
“If you want, but not what I had in mind right this instance.” He chuckled. “I’m not as spry as I used to be. I need a little more time to regain my stamina.”
“You look plenty spry to me.” She eyed his semi-erect dick. It hadn’t gone limp after he came. A few well-placed licks would probably have it hard again in an instant.
“Bless you, dear girl. You are good for my ego.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back. “Now then. After riding the bottle comes drinking the wine.”
“I’m on the clock.”
“Not you. Me. And a little shouldn’t hurt your performance.” He gazed into her eyes. “Unless you’re a lightweight.”
“No, but I don’t want someone to smell alcohol on my breath either.”
“True. True. But you won’t be drinking.”
“So why do you need me?”
He kissed her hand again and ran his tongue up to her wrist. “You’re my glass.”
Lexie must be getting used to him. She didn’t flinch or pull away or become indignant. She was naked, for the second time, and this was the most Mr. Malena had touched her. Though the idea of being his glass meant that would change. “How do you mean?”
“I plan to pour wine over this”—he flicked a finger from his free hand against her right nipple, grinning at her soft coo—“hard bud and then lick it up.”
Lexie swallowed and rubbed her thighs together as her clit twitched. “And again for this one.” He flicked her left nipple. “S-Sounds fun.”
“Indeed it is. Every part of your body the wine touches, I will follow with my tongue. I plan to bathe you in it.”
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Well readers, this is my last post for the evening. I just got home from work. I hope you enjoyed the day and I will post again tomorrow. Good night and God bless.
Voltaire wrote – These vampires were corpses, who went out of their graves at night to suck the blood of the living, either at their throats or stomachs, after which they returned to their cemeteries.
I love vampire books and have written two vampire series for Changeling Press, Vazan Vampires and Forever. Meet the vampires of the Cemetery in my Forever vampire series.
Tasty Bites excerpt three is from NIGHT SINS, the second book in my FOREVER vampire series.
Harper has sworn to enforce the vampire laws, not break them. An affair with a vampire is reckless. Falling in love is crazy stupid. Egan is irresistible.
Fear mingled with pleasure. How was it possible to enjoy the touch of his dead lips?
He stroked, sucked and kissed. Her body turned traitor, responding to the vampire’s lips, mouth and tongue. Damn.
“Did your compliments work on women a few centuries ago, or did you have to tie them up as well?”
He raised his head and looked her in the eye. “Not into foreplay?”
Harper expected the vampire to go for her throat, but he stripped off his shirt. His skin was pale and smooth. His shoulders were broad and his arms were sculpted with muscle. After slipping out of his shoes, he took off his pants. His hips were lean and his legs long and muscular. He reminded Harper of the white marble statues displayed in the big museum downtown, except what hung between his legs was fully erect, dispelling the thought he’d taken off his clothes to keep them clean and the only thing he wanted was her blood.
Harper stiffened, her muscles clenching. Instead of grabbing her and slamming her back against the wall, the vampire kissed her. His lips moved over hers, gently, but he was wise not to put his tongue in her mouth. He might have fangs, but she had teeth.
He pressed kisses along the column of her neck. Heart pounding and muscles quivering, Harper waited for his vicious bite. Images of her throat torn and her blood spilling flashed in her brain. Make it quick.
To her surprise he wrapped his arms around her and drew her tight against him. “You’re so warm, soft and warm.”
Harper’s retort about his cold skin died. She gasped at the pinpricks breaking her skin and cried out, more in fear than in pain. His fangs sank into her flesh.
This was it, how her life would end. Her fellow officers would find her half naked and chained.
Her muscles jerked. Heat shot through her. Her heart slammed against her chest wall.
The vampire stroked her back, calming her. He didn’t rip her skin or tear at her throat. He suckled, gently. Taking his time. Drinking her blood.
Euphoria replaced fear. The furious pounding of her heart subsided. He withdrew his fangs and licked her neck. Weightless and woozy, Harper slumped against the vampire’s chest.
Warning: Contains explicit sexual description and BDSM. Strictly for 18+
Moses Jordan is a part African American, Billionaire Computer Geek.
He is also in charge, her Dom. Imogen Walters is a tall, leggy blonde who practices law.
She is his property, his Sub.
They share a fifth floor luxury apartment overlooking Sydney Harbour.
She drives a Mercedes, he drives a Ferrari.
She practices law with confidence and is in command, until she steps through the door of their home. He has vowed to never release her.
Does she want to be freed?
Imogen glanced across the courtroom. He was seated in the public gallery. Muscles bunched under his shirt, his long black hair hung down to his shoulders and his chocolate brown eyes locked with hers. Warmth pooled in her pussy, she found it difficult to concentrate knowing his hungry gaze was watching her every move.
Moses tilted his lips into a grin, he had noticed Imogen squirming uncomfortably when she had first noticed him. The beautiful, tall, leggy blonde rose from her chair, turned her back and began fiddling with papers. He knew he was being unfair. This was an important trial for his sub. It involved the Mayor’s son and could make or break her brilliant career.
Imogen breathed deeply. She couldn’t let her clients down by being distracted. I will talk to Moses tonight. I can’t have him attending this trial and distracting me.
“Please rise for the Honourable Judge Dalton O’Malley,” a voice from the front of the courtroom announced.
Imogen came to attention and when she dared to take a quick peek in the direction of the gallery, she noticed Moses had left. She breathed deep with relief.
Moses strolled outside into the bright sunshine. He had done what he had come to do, unnerve his sub. She needed to be kept informed of who was in charge at all times. He smiled to himself as he headed for his favourite café at Circular Quay.
He would enjoy a latté while he drank in the first warmth of summer and made plans for tonight. She would pay for daring to turn her back on him.
He weaved his way down George Street, smiling at several women and girls as he went. He was well aware his physique attracted interest but he had the only woman he wanted. Maybe she could come home and find another woman in the apartment? That would remind her that I am in charge and it would punish her for turning her back on me.
Moses dismissed the thought of another female. It would devastate Imogen and, although she had to be disciplined, he would never be cruel.
He entered the café on the waterfront and was immediately shown to a table overlooking the harbour. The view was magnificent as water sparkled in the sunlight and vessels of every shape, colour and size floated in all directions. Moses was content. He picked up the daily paper which had been placed down with his latté and began reading.
He would not pick Imogen up from the trial as planned. He would meet her at home and put his plan into action.
All Buy Links: http://robertslacey1955.wix.com/lacey-roberts#!master/mainPage
I will gift an ecopy of any choice of book from my website to a visitor who leaves a comment.
This book fills my heart with joy. It was fun to write and has enough twists and turns to
throw anyone off the track. Here’s the excerpt. And this book is on pre-order now at Amazon, Smashwords, and Barnes and Noble.
Gil Davis stared out the saloon door and saw a little boy hobbling down the street. The boy couldn’t have been over four or five years old. Tears washed his face as he stumbled and fell. A woman approached. As soon as she touched him and started to clean his wounded knee with the hem of her petticoat the boy stared in wide-eyed wonder.
Gil, himself, was transfixed by the woman. Her long red-gold hair caught the sun and whispered a fire. Her fair skin looked bright pink against the glare of the morning sun. What kind of heaven might her eyes hold?
In all his life, he hadn’t seen anything as beautiful as a woman caring for a child alone in the street. She kneeled at the boy’s feet, and she barely looked at him as she tended his wound. He could see her speaking to the boy, but he couldn’t hear their conversation.
She tore off some of her petticoat to bandage his wound.
Caressing his cheek with a hand and wiping the tears away, she stood, her voluptuous figure created another heart-stopping scene in Gil’s heart. Her faded country cotton blue dress blew in the wind. She patted it down with one hand and walked away.
The boy limped away, his club foot more noticeable now than before.
The woman walked slowly back to the chair in front of the saloon as though she belonged there.
Her actions pulled at Gil’s heart, even though he wasn’t normally swayed by a woman. This woman commanded his attention.
He hadn’t seen an act of compassion in this town, until now. It touched him, renewing his faith in his fellow man.
The boy obviously was not hers. She simply wanted to help him heal. Gil swallowed hard.
An act of kindness gone unnoticed by most gave Gil a surge of euphoria. It had been a simple kindness, undisturbed moment in time, and he had witnessed it.
He smiled to himself as he rejoined the men at the table.
His cards in hand, he glanced at them then folded them. His mind wasn’t on his cards, though. He couldn’t shake the picture of the woman and boy.
“I thought we were gonna have to call a break, you were staring so long. Can we play poker now?” The big man at the table swallowed another drink.
“Just getting a breath of fresh air.” Gil resumed his relaxed position, and smiled..
“Well, it’s about time.”
“Friend, you should take a break every now and then. You miss so much if you don’t.” Gil smiled charmingly.
“I ain’t missed nothin’.” The man grunted. “I done seen all of this town I need to. My work needs doin’, so let’s get this game finished so I can go home and do ‘er.”
Gil tucked the beautiful memory into his heart and checked his cards once more.
The last game of the morning had a stack of cash in the middle of the table and a lot of nervous players folding their hands, some more unhappy than others.
“Not me, that’s enough for one day of losing,” said a tall thin man with spectacles and a deep resonating voice. Gil glanced at the man. He looked like a bad resemblance to Abe Lincoln. “I’ll call,” the big man said, pushing his wad of cash to the center of the table. The man glared at Gil, his big belly sticking out from his shirt. Sweat covered his face, and the whiskey that had missed his mouth drooled down his chin.
As a professional gambler, Gil tended to size his competition up before playing. He didn’t like this man. He had no reason in mind, just simply didn’t like him. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
“Sure, I’m shore. What you got?” The man stared at him with a sneer on his face.
“Sorry, friend. I raise you fifty dollars.” Gil waited to see if the man was all bluff or if he really had the hand he thought he had.
“I ain’t got no more cash,” the big man hollered.
“Have you any assets you might want to throw in? That is, if you have that good a hand.” Gil challenged. “A watch, a saddle, something?”
“I got one thing… my wife…”
Everyone at the table laughed until they saw the serious expression on the big man’s face. Then there was a silence that could be heard for miles. Some of the other men frowned with distaste. Others waited to see if he was serious.
Gil couldn’t afford to be rattled, but inside, his distaste for the man grew by the moment. What kind of animal did such a thing? He certainly couldn’t be human.
“Your wife?” Gil repeated.
“Let me get this straight. You are bidding your wife in a poker game?” Gil shook his head in disbelief.
“Why not? She’s right outside, and a real looker too.”
The woman he had feasted his eyes upon was surely not the right lady. She was much too beautiful and kind-hearted to be given away in a game. He couldn’t be referring to her, could he?
“Don’t you have something else, something material?” Gil insisted.
“No. All I got is her. Now, are you gonna accept my bet or not?” The man blubbered, gulping his drink and slamming the glass on the table so hard that the change rattled.
“Call!” Gil narrowed his gaze on the man.
“Three jacks…” The big man spread his cards on the table proudly and started to rake the hand in.
“Not good enough, friend. Full house…” Gil splayed his cards for all to see.
For a moment, the big man stammered, “I-I don’t believe it…” Then he folded his cards over and leered at Gil.
Most of the other players shook their heads and hung their mouths open.
When nothing happened, another player laughed. “He’s got you beat, Chester. You lose.”
The big man stared at the cards as though they were snakes. “It can’t be!”
“I’m afraid it is,” Gil murmured.
The big man stood, scraping the floor with his chair legs. The sound grated.
“Then she’s yours!” He backed away from the poker table, spit his tobacco on the floor, and grimaced. “Although, I can’t say you’re gettin’ much except a cook. Aw…she can clean a house, stuff like that, but I never have bedded her. She’s a cold one.” The man’s cynical laugh disturbed the silence.
Gil studied the man with the worn hat and torn clothes. How could a man gamble away his wife? A suggested annoyance hovered in the gambler’s eyes.
“Are you sure you don’t have something else of value to trade? A horse, a mule, a gun…anything?”
“No, I bid my wife, and you accepted my bet. Now she’s yours!”
Gil grimaced. He hadn’t been prepared for such a trade, but this man thought little of human values.
The tall thin man nodded. “I’d have to agree with the man. You’re acceptance makes it legal. She’s yours now.”
“She’s a cold one, huh? Although I’m sure I don’t know what to do with her.” Gil eyed the big man. “So…where is this lady you seem so eager to be rid of?”
The big man lit a cigar, and nodded to the door. “Ain’t no never mind to me. I thought she’d put out. She didn’t. Now, she’s sittin’ outside where I told her to. That’s where.”
Could Gil be so lucky as to win such a woman in a poker game? He’d heard of such dealings, but he’d never been in this position before. Not sure what to do, he stood and glared at the man.
“Ma’am.” A cowboy tipped his hat to her as he went inside.
Trish sat outside while her husband drank. It hadn’t been the first time Chester had come for a drink and got caught up in a poker game. Some men were weak about things like that.
“Mornin’,” she mumbled, wishing Chester would get a move on. He liked having his meals ready at certain times, and if they didn’t get home soon, she couldn’t have it ready for him and he’d be in a foul mood the rest of the day.
She couldn’t hear what they were saying inside, but it seemed a lively conversation. There were shouts and laughter then a sudden unexpected quiet.
Trish ran her hands over her thin cotton dress. She had spent the last few days cleaning the man’s house, milking his cow, and working like a dog, and he still wasn’t happy with her. During their three-week long marriage, they barely spoke to each other. Trish had been dealt a raw deal. Chester hadn’t lived up to her expectations, and disappointment crowded her thinking. She’d tried not to judge him as it was her mistake as much as his..
She sighed. “Come on, Chester, let’s go home,” she mumbled as the noise got louder.
Their relationship, what there was of it, didn’t amount to much. For a married woman, she felt very unmarried.
She slept in the bed, while he slept on the floor. Trish did all the work he asked of her and more, but neither was happy with each other. It hadn’t mattered. He was protective of her, and that was all she asked. Why had she ever agreed to become a mail-order bride though? Trish hadn’t worked this hard since she’d been home with her seven brothers. She should have stayed at Al’s. Of all the girls who agreed to become mail order brides, Trish was the unluckiest of the bunch. It wasn’t that she was so bad to look at. It was her nature, her cold-hearted nature. She didn’t trust men. It was that simple.
Memories of Al’s saloon lingered in the back of her mind. Whiskey, smoke, and raw-smelling cowboys. Did she really wish that on herself again?
A woman passed by and barely gave her a glance. No one had been friendly in this town. She’d been to town a couple of times, but nothing ever happened. The women looked at her suspiciously, and the men just stared.
She closed her eyes and smelled the fresh morning air. Every day, she had hunted for something to reassure her that it was all worth it.
Trish chose Chester Smith as a husband because he was big and strong, and she figured he’d take care of her. He boasted a lot before they were married, but that wasn’t anything to her. He was too old for her, but that didn’t matter to Trish. She could suffer through his age and big beer belly. She could even put up with his drinking. All she wanted was to settle down, have a home, and maybe some kids in time. Trish thought time might mellow her husband, that he’d take more pride in himself and his place with a woman that would work the farm as hard as he. Of course, it was harder to get used to her husband than she figured. And the thought of him touching her repulsed her. But sex wasn’t important to her now.
“Lay down and take it,” her mother had told her about marriage one day when she was talking about her own life.
And strangely enough, that advice had served her well as a whore. She had lain down and taken it.
But things had changed since then, and supposedly for the better.
Chester had a nice home on the outskirts of town, and she’d instantly pictured herself drawing the water at the well and watering the flowers that grew about the house. It was peaceful out there and suited her. Although Chester himself lacked some of the finer graces of life, she could put up with it. If she could get over his bad manners and sloppiness, she might even bear him a child or two.
She’d settled for Chester. She knew she’d just settled. Her friends were quick to tell her so. It hadn’t bothered her before, but now she was rethinking it. Now, the prospect of a home and family were nearly gone. Chester wasn’t the man she thought him. Why had she married him? She could find a decent man. Why had she been so sidetracked into thinking an ugly man was a better man? But as luck would have it, decent men were not that easy to come by.
Chester did what he had to around the place, he worked, but there was no joy in his heart. Even though he was a good farmer, he took pleasure in it. She tried to encourage him, compliment him on his talent with a plow, but he paid no mind to her either.
He seldom smiled, and only when he was drinking. Even putting up with his drinking wasn’t hard. She was used to drunks. But this wasn’t the life she had thought about having. She wanted so much more.
Today he had come for a drink and made her sit outside while he had a hand of poker. She heard him boasting inside the saloon, but she wasn’t sure what had happened. Perhaps he’d won and would be in a good mood the rest of the day.
Trish smiled and closed her eyes. She wished he wouldn’t gamble his money away, but there was no stopping him. Why had she listened to Jo Ella and her dreams? Trish had her doubts all along about finding a husband. Her lack of trust in men had led her to Chester.
It wasn’t as if he drank every day, nor gambled, but Trish would have rather he didn’t altogether. to. Her pa had been a prime example. Her pa had tried to bed her when she turned sixteen and developed faster than most. She’d been ashamed of her womanly figure. The way her father and brothers looked at her made her ill. But when she pulled a gun on him, he told her to get out and never come back. The one thing she was happy about was that he hadn’t touched her. She was too proud to allow that to happen even at sixteen. And what was worse, her brothers had had the same idea. Staying home was not an option when her mother refused to speak up.
A tear escaped down her cheek. She had put that memory away long ago and tried not to ever look back. Only living with Chester gave her time on her hands to think, and remember.
Believing she could make it on her own, she was soon hit with a hard reality. She was no tomboy, no rancher, nor farmer, even though she’d been brought up to do the chores. She couldn’t hire herself out as a one. She couldn’t do sums well, so clerking in a store was not feasible. Unless you could sew, there were no decent jobs available. She had wanted to learn, but her mother hadn’t the time to teach her. So, like others who came from broken, bad homes, she found herself in a saloon, selling whiskey, and herself.
Her story wasn’t unlike the other girls at Al’s. All had been abused by their folks. All of them sought something better and found something worse.
Her father had warned her as a young child, “Don’t take up them painted lady ways.”
Her mother had hung her head in shame when Trish looked to her for support. The look on her face was unforgettable. She could see the remorse and guilt in her mother’s eyes and feel it in her heart. Her mother hadn’t been a strong woman.
But she had!
So Trish grew up not trusting any man. The way she figured it, if she couldn’t trust her own father, then she couldn’t trust any man.
Trish glanced around the almost dead town as the wind whipped at her skirt once more. She didn’t like the wind, as it whistled a sad tune. It made her lonely, only she didn’t know what she was lonely for. No one seemed to stir. It was just past noon, and she reckoned most were home either working or fixing a meal.
This town was thirty miles from Veda, and she wondered if she’d ever see Jo Ella or the others again. They were like sisters to her. She hated the separation, but Chester wouldn’t allow her to use the one and only horse on the farm. He wouldn’t allow her to go gallivanting around, as he called it.
When her husband came out of the saloon, he was drunk and staring at her very strangely.
“We going home now, Chester?” Trish asked politely, getting to her feet and looking up at her husband in expectation. “I need to get dinner on.”
“I am. You ain’t. I just lost you in a poker game.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“You what?” Trish raised her voice to a high pitch. She looked him in the eye, but he couldn’t even do that. He was too drunk. “What are you sayin’?”
“You heard me, gal. I just lost you in a poker game. That’s what I’m saying. You can take this so-called marriage of ours and throw it away. I don’t care. You don’t belong to me no more, understand? So don’t follow me. Don’t come home. I don’t want you no more…”
Trish’s eyes widened in horror. “How could you do that?”
“Didn’t have nothin’ else to bid on.” He started walking away, stumbling as he went.
“But…we’re married?” she cried out, wondering if he was joking and if she should follow him anyway. “I’m a human being, not a anti…”
“Not anymore, we ain’t.”
“But it was a legal marriage. You can’t just walk out on me, like that.”
“Reckon I can. Don’t fret. In three years, you can get a divorce on abandonment charges.”
Three years. What was she supposed to do in the meantime?
Pure panic set in. Trish flopped back into the chair. He lost me in a poker game? Like I’m some sort of trash he doesn’t care about.
Now what was she to do? Chester was still her husband.
Didn’t he care? Although upon reflection, she gave him nothing to care about. He certainly didn’t seem distraught.
The farther away he got, the more her heart pounded in fear of the unknown. He was leaving her here to rot!
He grinned, standing there in his— Whoa . Just looking at him hurt all over in all the right places. “You should know better than that by now.”
Evelyn could feel the crimson burn spread up her neck to her face. He couldn’t read her mind, so how did he know.
His grin broadened, and he showed no sign of pulling back the curtain to disrupt her view. “Or did you wake with a fierce desire?”
Yes, she was definitely beet red now. “Um.”
In one movement, he scooped her up and pulled her into the tub, closing the curtain. His lips captured hers, his tongue penetrating and playing a game. Evelyn surrendered to the whole thing. He could have her. He could do anything he wanted with her. That’s how much she ached for him.
The hot water streamed over her nightshirt. His thumb stroked her nipple through the wet fabric. “So, my love, have we reached a truth?”
Evelyn gazed up into his glacier blue gray eyes. Next thing she knew, she was kissing him hard and long. He lifted her up, then lowered her slowly kissing her body through the sopping wet shirt, fastening on a nipple and sucking.
“Ahhh.” She threw her head back and wrapped her legs around his waist.
Ending the suck with a kiss, he latched onto the other nipple. Then he kissed her, leaving a blazing hot trail of love on every inch of her skin until they were face-to-face.
“I want nothing between us.” He slipped the soaked nightshirt over her head in one swift move and tossed it over the curtain rod. Then ripped off her panties.
“Max, you can’t keep destroying my underwear.”
He kissed her with such heat Evelyn closed her eyes. She was tight in his embrace and accepted everything. His shaft pushed against her core, and she gasped, hiding her smile of pure joy in his shoulder. He thrust into her. With her back against the wall of the shower, he pushed and withdrew. She couldn’t really move, only be there to enjoy what he was doing. His every movement elicited a gasp or whimper. She nibbled his shoulder, his neck, his ear.
“Say something to me, Evelyn.”
“Max,” she panted. “What do you want me to say?”
“How do you feel?”
Half crazed out of her mind with lust as he pounded into her body, Evelyn took a breath. This was a trap. Every man wanted to know a woman’s feelings so he could use them against her, enslave her to his will.
“Max, I need you.” It was the safe thing to say and true. All the banter about sex and honeymooning in the dream had fired her need. She was afraid to admit more.
He drove into her faster. Evelyn felt faint. Everything swirled. She nuzzled his shoulder and then bit him. Her mouth filled with blood.
Now for the contest: I will be give to one lucky commenter who lives in the USA, a signed print copy of Vampire King of New York. The contest starts here and ends when the End of Summer Bash does. Every time you comment with “I love Max,” along with your name and email, I will enter your name in the hat. Only one comment per post. Contest void where prohibited by law. Good luck, everyone!
Susan Hanniford Crowley
Heart of a Lady begins a new historical western romance series
This is the story of five whores who want to become mail-order-brides.
At first this seemed an easy task. Answer the ad, pick a husband out of a
whole town and get married. But things that look easy are not always in reality so.
Jo Ella finds two men that she’s attracted to and must choose the one she really
wants as a husband. Will it be the reckless, rancher, or the Sheriff who
turns her head.
These books are full of fun, love, and calamities. But when Jo Ella decides she had
enough of the shady life and wants to become a lady, look out. From fun in the tub, to
kidnapped by outlaws Jo Ella’s new life proves to be exciting, especially when she has two men
wanting to romance her.
Can she put her lust behind her and make a wise choice for true love?