There will be a new story every Friday through the beginning of April!
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | All Romance
Five brand new, hot paranormal romance stories from bestselling authors. Alpha heroes and heroines with dark pasts and the need to discover their own happy ever after will draw you in and make you turn to the next page.
Each novella offers a look into a different series and world, but each features the power of the wolf. Whether you like your wolves from small town, as billionaires, fighting wars they have to win or wrestling with ancient powers, Under a Wolf Moon has something for you.
Discover never seen before stories!
Meet tempestuous wolves!
Survive fiery battles!
Mark the date to meet their mates!
The wolf moon fills the sky and it’s time to howl!
Warning: Contains alpha heroes and heroines, scorching passion, tough love, family ties, and pack dynamics which bind them together. Sometimes a wolf’s greatest challenge is finding their way home…
Wolf Next Door by Heather Long
When Claire Webster was five years old Tyler Buckley, the wolf next door, told her he was her mate and then ordered her not to play with one of her friends. Butting heads throughout their childhood, her choice to leave Willow Bend tore them apart. Eight years later, she sends a request to the new Alpha—she wants to come home, and when he grants it, she’s both relieved and terrified. The first person she runs into is the last one who ever wants to see her again.
Princess of the Pack by Saranna DeWylde
Marchessa de la Luna’s duty is to the marriage arranged to the enigmatic and powerful, but aging Alpha Antony Rommulus. Her passion is for the rogue Cassius who can give her nothing except pleasure. Marchessa must choose if it will be duty or desire that will decide her fate and that of her pack.
Eternal by Rebecca Royce
Dougal Owens has served on the front line of The Dragon Wars for sixteen years. The last thing this Alpha werewolf expects is his mate to drop in with a plan to end the war. Together, they will battle to save the Wolves or die trying.
Hell’s Playground by Cara Carnes
The Quadrant Alpha once thought Mira’s death was the worst thing that could have happened. Learning she lives, and worse, survived torture and purgatory gives Adrik a chance to save Redemption and his mate.
Odd Wolf by Virginia Nelson
Dara is Alpha and used to taking control of the situation when it goes swirly. A rogue on her turf means a fight, and she’s ready to take him on. A woman with no plans to be tamed and a rogue wolf with no plans to stick around shouldn’t have more than a brief meeting to establish boundaries and be done. However, when Dara meets Lynwood, the call to mate might drown out logic altogether.
There’s a lovely thing that authors know about called a “backlist.” When we publish a new book, it’s automatically on the backlist of things available for readers to find. And after you’ve been around a while, there could be a lot of books on that list—even ones so old readers don’t remember them. Like a fine piece of furniture, a writer can dust off an older title, give it a fresh coat of polish, and send it out into the world again.
I have a book coming on February 10th that’s up for pre-order now! It’s a historical western set in Two Mule, Texas—and yes, to those of you who pay attention, it’s a prequel book to the Lone Star Lovers series. I love this story. It was one of my first print books ever. It has tons of humor and sweaty sex. This one’s all dusted off, polished and ready for a second chance at life. And isn’t this the prettiest cover ever?
Something’s on the rise in Two Mule, Texas. And it ain’t just the temperature.
1880, West Texas
Honey Cafferty lives a happy, if precarious, existence as a traveling saleswoman. She sells her elixirs and potions while searching for the one thing she hasn’t been able to brew from the back of her colorful wagon—a sense of belonging. She arrives in Two Mule, Texas, with her Elixir of Love, a potion that improves a man’s libido but might just get her run out of town.
Sheriff Joe Tanner is protective of his little town. Downright hostile toward anyone who might take advantage of the fine folk under his protection. Any snake-oil salesman who rolls into town better just keep right on rolling.
Honey isn’t what Joe expected, from her vibrant red hair and cat-green eyes to her curvy mouth and hips. And when the men of the town begin to plead exhaustion—and place the blame squarely on her sweet-smelling shoulders—Joe has no choice but to launch an investigation. A very, very deep investigation…
Warning: Contains a sheriff who prides himself on keeping his town running as smooth as a well-greased wagon wheel, and a wandering saleswoman who’s more than a bump (and grind) in his road.
If kids, and many adults, were to write a letter to one of their closest friends these days, given the nasty virus going around, I think it might be something like this.
May you all have a terrific holiday with visits to and from the friends and family you love and value most.
You’ve been there for me since I was little. Sometimes you’re uppity, or back uppity as the case might be. We talk rarely, but we see each other every day. I wonder though, do you ever get tired of seeing me? Especially on days like today when I’ve been blessed with the stomach virus everyone is passing off to the next person faster than green vegetables are shunned at a kid’s party.
Illness and suffering may be a reminder for us to be grateful for the good things we have, like reliable friends like you. But John, I hope it doesn’t hurt your feelings too much for me to say I’d like a little space. The urgent need to race through the house and kneel before you is a little too close to obsession for my comfort. It’s just not healthy for a girl to be so reliant on a boy.
Please accept this letter in the spirit intended. I hope we can still be friends.
Well, Burnin’ up Memphis is available on all sites now! I can hardly wait to hear from you. I hope you love it. I hope you love my guys. I have an inkling where I’ll go next, but it’s always nice to hear which fella struck your fancy.
The only thing I have left to say is this: If you love the book, please let someone else know it. You can tell a friend or post a review. The only way I can stay a success and writing full-time is through your continued support. I’m very appreciative of everyone you do.
She’s the one fire he may not be able to control.
Firehouse 69, Book 1
When a roof collapse kills his best friend and his girlfriend clears out his apartment and leaves, firefighter John Cooper knows he shouldn’t sit alone in his empty apartment. But when he accepts an invitation to Club LaForge, his feet get colder with every step he takes inside.
The sights, sounds and smells of the BDSM club make him sweat, and not because he’s turned off. Yet he can’t bring himself to admit—to himself, or to his luscious guide, Moira—that this lifestyle might just be what he needs.
An experienced BDSM trainer, Moira senses that Coop is not only a Dom in the making, but exactly what she’s been looking for. A man to be her lover and her Dom. The only problem is, Coop isn’t looking for anything complicated.
Moira’s willing to start slow and easy, but even once there’s enough trust to bring Coop into her world—and to her Dom—she’s still worried he’ll look for the nearest exit.
Warning: Do you smell smoke? Don’t worry, it’s just a hot and sexy firefighter getting down and dirty. Contains BDSM scenes, ropes, floggers, some spanking, some sharing, and some five-alarm sex.
I seem to have officially become a color coded Post It girl. I’m can’t say it’s something I planned, or would have expected. For years I’ve kept a running list of things needing to be done on a legal pad. And for those years I found myself irritated by the messiness of the list with all the lines through it. Always wanting a clean list, this meant I was rewriting the list over and over, which isn’t as effective as just doing the item. You know?
Then, I made a change in my workspace. I got rid of the large desk in the open area upstairs and instead moved to a small writing desk in a corner in my bedroom. It was an adjustment, but the move has forced me to rethink my organization. I cut down on the clutter, which always makes me happy, and I’ve figured out the most effective way to use the space.
One change to using the space was to move from the never ending list rewrite to sticking Post It Notes on the wall I now face. I’ve found that with the stickies staring me in the face I’m more inclined to get things done because I would rather look at a blank wall than an Post It filled one.
I’ve also found that color coding the Post Its makes things easier. Apparently I like to compartmentalize, because I’ve gone so far to do Green for Day Job, Orange for Personal, Pink/Melon for Band/School and Red for Writing. There’s also a major feeling of accomplishment when I empty things off the wall.
This has me wondering, though, what kind of person are you? Semi-organized? Scattered? Obsessively methodical? Somewhere in between? Do you like lists or do you just have an amazing memory that doesn’t requires lists?
Commenters will be entered into a drawing for an eBook giveaway. In celebration of the recent release of Cyber Illusions (Sensory Ops), the final chapter in the Sensory Ops Series, I am giving away a digital copy of the first five books in the Sensory Ops series.
I have a book coming out September 2d. If you haven’t read the first book, you might want to do so now—both books in this series are great fun. Mystery, suspense, murky bayous, hot sunny Mexican getaways, ex-SEAL operatives, and women in need of their brand of care and protection….
Her Only Desire
Sultry Summer Nights, Book 1
The moment Tilly Floret sees the sleek Bentley driving down Main Street, she knows trouble has arrived in her sleepy little town. A mysterious job posting keeps appearing at the diner where she works, and she can’t resist applying. No matter that the entire town of Bayou Vert is whispering about the wealthy, powerful man behind it all and his scandalous return home. The moment his ice-blue eyes meet hers, he ignites an all-consuming desire she never imagined possible, one she can’t deny.
Ex-navy SEAL Boone Benoit never thought he’d set foot in Louisiana again. As soon as Tilly starts her new job in his pleasure club, he senses a kindred soul. One who has carefully guarded secrets of her own-and a simmering hunger for the taboo rites of mastery and submission. The only difference is she doesn’t yet know it. Now as Boone tutors Tilly in the tantalizing world of leather and lace, she will shed her every inhibition and surrender to him, body and soul.
His Every Fantasy
Sultry Summer Nights, Book 2
The last thing ex-SEAL Sergei Gun needs is a complication. As part of a powerful black-ops company, he’s led an extraction team into the Mexican jungle to rescue two men who have been kidnapped. Everything has gone according to plan until Serge discovers a third hostage-an exquisitely beautiful woman with a secret haunting her stormy gray eyes…a woman who refuses to make this rescue easy. With no choice but to bring her back to the compound deep in the sultry, steamy Louisiana bayou, Serge vows to protect her, body and soul…
Kara Nichols never imagined that she’d capture the interest of a powerful man like Serge. Yet from the moment they met, she’s fantasized about his strong hands caressing her naked skin, his musky scent lingering on her sheets. What began as a simple rescue mission ignites into a passionate affair. As Serge teaches her the tantalizing art of surrender, Kara finds herself more than willing to shed every last one of her inhibitions and submit to him fully. But the dark, dangerous forces that captured Kara aren’t ready to let her go so easily…
Meet Sergei Gun…
He’d been here before.
A makeshift tent city on a lonely stretch of Iraqi desert with a shamal wind kicking up fine, wheat-flour sand into a blinding storm.
Tar-paper shacks nestled in a rock-strewn valley in the Hindu Kush mountains under fat snowflakes whipping into a blizzard.
And just like those times, this ramshackle camp hidden in the middle of a Yucatán jungle was surrounded. About to be destroyed. The men guarding the perimeter, smoking cigarettes and bragging about their latest sexual conquests, were already dead. They just didn’t know it. Continue reading Meet Sergei Gun…
Love is..a swift kick in the butt we don’t always want.
This is certainly the case in FIERY, my fourth Whispering Cove novella. Carmen has always wanted a place to call home, where she felt like she belonged. She came close when she and her sister made a home in Whispering Cove, but when no one is looking, when she’s alone with her thoughts, she drifts into a loneliness she hasn’t been able to fill.
Writing FIERY allowed me to shop for fifties style clothes and home decor, and it was fun to figure out why a modern day woman would want the kind of life a housewife in the fifties led. Or the life she thought they’d had. Ryan and Carmen challenge each other the way great partners should. They push each other’s buttons, but are just as quickly ready to help each other. They’re just not sure they fit as smoothly together as Whispering Cove’s matchmaking grandpas think they do.
Carmen is convinced that life in the fifties was simple, women were cherished by their husbands and kids were never left behind. Families were filled with love instead of dysfunction. And the clothes were cool.
What do you think? Do you agree with Ryan that Carmen is looking for an ideal that does not, and has never, existed?
Connect with Nikki at her other online homes.
I published a short story on Amazon the other day. If you like science fiction/futuristic stories set on Mars, check it out. And if you like the story a lot and want to see more in a possible series of Martian tales, let me know…
Here’s an excerpt…
The transport arrived amid a whirl of dust kicked up from the barren yard beside the house. The gritty air nearly obscured the moon, Phobos, as it made the first of several orbits for the day. The aircraft hovered, framed by the uneven curves of the asteroid, then set down with a thud that shuddered the fiber-board planks of her front porch, vertical engines stalling then shutting off altogether. Slowly, the dust settled.
She’d been sweeping, preparing the cabin for the transport’s arrival. As with every element of the company’s schedule, the ship arrived precisely on time. Although she was prepared, a flutter of anticipation tickled her belly. She set aside the broom, wiped her palms against the sides of her sturdy blue work pants, and descended the stairs, eager to meet the shipment.
A man dressed in a gray company coverall climbed out of the cockpit and strode toward her.
Mary’s heart skipped a beat when she realized she hadn’t had a face-to-face conversation with another human being in a very long time. She pasted on a smile. “Welcome.”
His sharp gaze swept her little cabin, the golden fields beyond it, then finally rested on her. “You Mary Bledsoe?”
He likely wondered how someone of her stature had managed to pass the physical tests to qualify for farming. She stiffened her spine to add a few centimeters to her small, wiry frame and met his gaze with her usual calm, chilly stare. “I am.” She bit back a sarcastic, Who else do you think I could be? Every one of the thousand colonists had been handpicked and transported by the company—they had a monopoly on Martian transportation and industry.
His mouth twitched, but he kept his gaze steady. “I have your shipment, and I’ll need your signature on the bill of lading.”
She nodded. “I’ll need to inspect.” She’d received notice of the contents of the shipment via the comm-console situated in the cabin’s main room shortly after claiming her homestead.
Although the fields had been pre-planted and her new home fully furnished, there were still some items, especially the perishables, that needed stocking: replacement blades for the combine sheltered in the barn, pallets of foodstuffs, clothing, and fuel packs…and her mate.
Trying not to appear overeager to see him, she waited as the transport commander’s crew scurried to let down the rear ramp and roll out the pallets. With well-trained efficiency, they stacked them beside the porch. She counted the pallets with their quick-wrapped goods, scanned her gaze over the identifying labels, signed for delivery, then shoved her hands into her pockets to hide the fact they were beginning to shake.
The commander’s mouth firmed into a straight line. “Did you receive training in the use of the B-Mod collar?”
He knew she had. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be here, already in possession of a land grant. She gave a curt nod. “Yes. I also signed saying I knew there were no guarantees for my safety or his willingness to work. If we don’t suit, if he proves stubborn, then I’ll return him.”
“Just don’t get too attached, ma’am. You have enough on your hands without coddling one of these rejects.”
The brusque quality of his voice surprised her. Was he truly worried? Should she be more concerned? Her hands drew into fists inside her pants pockets.
But then he extended the chain with the controller for the prisoner’s behavior modification collar, a thin ID tag with a recessed button on one side. She slipped it over her head and followed him to the side of the transport. The guard inside the vehicle opened the door. The prisoner scooted on the seat toward the edge, hands still in manacles, then slid to the ground beside her.
Heart rate rising, she gazed up into a face set in grim lines. Blue eyes, cold as ice, sparked with some deep emotion as he stared back.
He was larger than she had expected. Surprisingly so. Prisoners built like this one were generally shipped to company loading docks or to the dome’s arena. He was dressed as she was in sturdy denim pants and long-sleeved shirt. She studied his broad chest and wide shoulders. He was built like a gladiator; his arms and thighs were deeply muscled. “You’re sure he’s mine?” she asked, turning toward the commander who’d fished a key from his pocket to unlock the prisoner’s handcuffs.
The pilot’s grunt and the flinty glare he gave the prisoner said he too had some reservations. “His collar matches the invoice. Guess they thought you might need the extra muscle.”
Anger flashed at his comment. She’d had enough of men thinking she wasn’t up to the rigors of Martian prairie life. Her hand still gripped the B-Mod chip. She slipped it slowly away, remembering her training. Show no fear. As long as she had the chip, she had control.
Without glancing at the metal torque hugging the base of his neck, because she didn’t want to betray her sudden case of nerves, she lifted her chin and cleared her expression.
“Do you have a name?” An inane question. She winced inwardly.
One side of his mouth quirked. That flash of movement might have been her imagination because he gave her a stony stare.
The commander cleared his throat.
“Ma’am,” the prisoner amended with a drawl.
Heat crept up her neck, but she ignored the blush threatening to suffuse her face. Turning back to the commander, she offered her hand.
His grip was strong, the look he gave her doubtful. “Good luck to you, Mary.”
Not a professional form of address, but no one had called her by her first name, alone, for a very long time. For that small gift, she gave him a warm smile. “Thanks for everything. We’ll be fine here.”
A duffel was tossed from the transport by one of the guards. The bag was small. Likely only a couple changes of clothing for the prisoner. She jerked her chin toward it, knowing she was still being observed by the crew. “Bring it,” she said, making her tone curt. She turned, walking toward the cabin, wondering if the lock on her new mate’s door would actually hold the man.
Ever have a character in a book who was larger than life, who you knew would scare the crap out of you if you met him in the real world?
Meet Mondo Acevedo. Not a cowboy. But he is another brand of iconic hero—a cop!
And he’s a Dom. The last man standing in his very close-knit, kinky band of brothers in blue. Readers have been asking for his story since the first of my Delta Heat books came out. It’s been a long wait. There were five other stories leading up to this one. I know you won’t mind the wait. Not once you reach THE END.
The novella drops into online bookstores tomorrow. I can’t wait to hear what you think. 🙂 For now, you can pre-order you copy here: Samhain Publishing
Here’s what the story is all about…
It’s time for this Dom to learn he may not always know what’s best.
When his four Memphis PD friends needed to let off steam, Mondo helped them all navigate the BDSM world—his world—and find the women of their dreams. Now the vice cop and La Forge Master/Dom is the last single man standing. And he’s feeling a little like the odd man out.
He’s been waiting a long time for the right woman, one strong enough to match his dark passions. A timid grade school teacher definitely doesn’t make the short list.
Sunny Boudreau was content with her rather prosaic life until a trio of lovers moves in next door. But as she gets to know them and all their friends, she’s drawn to the edge of their ménage/BDSM play. She’s tempted to take the plunge—except Mondo warns her off.
Her first taste of the club only whets her appetite and ignites her desire to prove she’s exactly the woman Mondo’s been hungering for.
Warning: BDSM play at your favorite kinky club, group play at home, some fun BDSM, girl-on-girl kissing, an orgy…the usual for our boys in blue.
Sunny refused to think about what she was doing, concentrating instead on moving one foot in front of the other, despite her trepidation and embarrassment. Part of her couldn’t believe she was doing this, walking nude into a roomful of strangers. The other part clung to the sight of the man walking in front of her. Anger at how quickly he’d dismissed her commitment to this path without really knowing her fueled her forward movement.
He didn’t know how lonely she was, how out of step she was with her acquaintances at work. They had their boyfriends, had their plain vanilla sex, their ordinary lives, when she dreamed of something more. Something rare and exciting. Not until she’d met Pansy had she understood her need to explore her true nature.
Since the night she’d masturbated, knowing full well Mondo watched, she’d devoured every book she could find on BDSM and fetishes, and much of what she’d read left her feeling as though she’d only been half alive before. And now she stood on a precipice, ready to take the dive into deeper, dark waters.
And Mondo was the key. The teacher she needed. Already he was more attractive, more mysterious and dangerous than anyone she’d ever met. As a vice cop, he faced dangers at work she could only imagine. A far cry from her own job, which she loved, but which didn’t fill her need for adventure.
Her first sight of him, standing on her doorstep, had taken her breath.
Even now, wearing his collar, her breaths were so shallow she had to consciously force them to deepen or risked fainting. And wouldn’t Mondo love it if she did, proving he’d been right all along? Following Mondo out of his playroom and into the noisy, boisterous salon took an act of courage—courage she hadn’t known she possessed. Just summoning up the nerve to step inside La Forge fully dressed had taken nearly everything she had.
She didn’t like crowds, had hated lining up with the others who hoped they’d be chosen for play and instruction, on display for an entire room of barely dressed people to be eyed like they were trussed-up chickens in a meat market.
Pansy had wanted to take her shopping, to buy something sexy and appropriately subbie, but Sunny had hesitated. Sure, she’d read a lot about the lifestyle, but she wasn’t prepared to act as though she knew more than she did.
Everything she’d read had excited her, but she knew herself well enough to know she had to enter this adventure on her own terms, be completely herself, or she’d balk at the last minute from fear and embarrassment.
The fact that Mondo had managed to get her out of her clothes so quickly and striding toward the noisy room was a testament to how much she wanted him as a teacher. Or perhaps how much she wanted to prove him wrong. Anger continued to fuel her bravado.
Pansy had extolled his skills, his sensitivity, his strength. She’d told Sunny that he could push a sub farther than her pre-conceived limits—and it had to be true, because already she was naked and aroused—something any of the dozens of players turning their way to note their passage would see. Her nipples were tightly beaded, her areolas dimpled. Moisture was pooling between her legs. She hoped the dim lighting would hide the gleam between her thighs.
Shutting the others out before she lost her nerve, she kept her gaze on Mondo’s broad shoulders as he moved with purpose through the center of the room, past chairs and sofas where a dizzying array of sexual acts were occurring.
Her mouth dropped as she spotted Pansy, bent forward with Billy holding her hands to provide her balance, her pregnant belly bared, while Beau clapped his hand on her naked bottom—not harshly enough to rock her body, but her cheeks were pink, her pussy flushed and engorged—for anyone to see.
Sunny’s cheeks burned for her new friend. Taking another step, she bumped into Mondo, who turned his head and gave her a searing glance. “Sorry, Sir,” she mumbled, not able to meet his knowing gaze, because she’d been caught staring at another woman’s pussy.
“That interested you?” he asked, pointing his chin toward Pansy, whose desperate gaze met Sunny’s.
Pansy gasped at the next thudding clap and then winked.
Sunny swallowed hard, surprised at how much she envied Pansy’s predicament. Meeting Mondo’s hard gaze, she quivered inside. Sensing he’d know if she tried to give him anything less than the truth, she admitted her interest with a whispered, “Yes, Sir.”
Mondo stepped closer, forcing her head up to maintain their locked gazes. A hand slipped between her thighs, fingers gliding in the moisture coating her smooth outer labia. Shock sent a shiver straight up her spine at the intimate touch, and she nearly reached out to push his hand away.
Without any emotion in his eyes, Mondo smiled. “I’ll touch you however I want. No matter who watches.”
She nodded, but gasped a quick, “Yes, Sir,” when he pinched her swollen clit.
The urge to widen her stance, to invite further caresses warred with the chilling awareness that others watched.
Mondo gave her a long look. Everything inside her made her want to lower her gaze, to hide the longing surging up inside her. For him. For what this place offered. How much of that longing was for him specifically or for what he might be able to teach her, she wasn’t sure. But she held his gaze, braving out the tense moment.
Mondo gave a soft grunt and then glanced around them. Heads turned swiftly away at his glare.
She ducked her head, averting her gaze as she’d been instructed. She almost smiled at his irritation but firmed her lips to hide her amusement. The fact she wanted to smile when she was nude and vulnerable surprised her. She’d never done this before. Even with the few lovers she’d had, she was quick to find a robe rather than parade naked.
“I want you to watch with me tonight,” he said, his voice pitched low. “Be my shadow. When I pause, you kneel. When I move, you follow.” He trailed a finger down the side of her face. “If I caress you, you will let me see whether you feel pleasure or discomfort. Hide nothing.”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered and then wet her lips, wishing he’d kiss her again.
His sensuous, firm mouth quirked up at one side. “You are a surprise.”
Her mouth twitched. “Sir?”
“Will you make love to me tonight?”
He pulled his head back and looked down at her, his eyes narrowed as he studied her face. “I shouldn’t. You’re bold and shouldn’t be rewarded. You have a lot to learn.”
“You didn’t say you won’t.” The further narrowing of his eyes told her she’d displeased him. Quickly, before he could respond, she slowly knelt in front of him. “You paused, Sir.”
Mondo’s teeth flashed. He shook his head. “Dios, the things I want to do with you.”