Sunday, May 29, 2016

Flash Back to My First Book -- Black Dragon's Blood @AnitaPhilmar


Amanda Spencer had spent years searching for clues to her first husband's murder. Now, she was close, too close to let William VanHorn get in the way. He wanted to claim her as his wife, but she didn't have time to satisfy the man's needs. She wanted answers not sex.

Set on fire by Amanda, William wouldn't let the lady escape. If she wanted answers, he'd get them. As head of the Dragon Center, he had connections and nothing would stop him from capturing her heart.


William blocked her path before she could take more than two additional steps; a gift of his blood to be able to react so quickly.

Her curse was to smell his heat, to know his need, to want him inside her, making her blood boil. Luckily, the human part of her nature controlled her actions, reminded her of past heartache.

"A woman with your level of dragon blood needs a man, needs to have his children." His strong hand circled her forearm. She sensed the heavy pulse of his blood beating against her tender skin.

"Not a possibility, William, even if I did agree to marry you." She tugged her arm from his grasp. "I’ve been married twice. In neither case did I have a child. With you, it would be no different."

His eyes narrowed to slits. "Are you telling me you’re unable to bear children?"

"You’re an intelligent man, William. What do you think?"

"Your father didn’t tell me this."

"Yes, well, why would he? It would have been counterproductive to his plan, wouldn’t it?" The angry tightening of his jaw told Amanda she’d gained her freedom.

Stepping around him, she slid the door open on the metal railing and stood for a moment staring at his back. Other more pressing business required her attention. If she was lucky, she could get home, pack and get out of town before William picked up her trail again.

"Good luck finding some other lady to meet your needs, William."

Read the first scene at

Purchase at The Wild Rose Press:


Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Reluctant Submission - Educating Meredith by R.R.Greaves #Erotic #Romance

Reluctant Submission
Educating Meredith
© 2015 Blushing Books & R. R. Greaves
Media Packet (Image Attached Separately)

How many of us cannot honestly say we would like to see either our current or some of our previous bosses get their overdue comeuppance?

Meet Meredith, the despotic, man-hating but successful CEO of Danforth Enterprises. Her employees work harder at avoiding her than they do most anything else. However, her long-suffering PA, Penelope simply cannot avoid her wrath.

Enter the enigmatic Damien Franks, contracted by Penelope to renovate her boss’s executive bathroom. Damien has other skills and Penelope knows what they are. Taking pity on Penelope, and finding the feisty CEO strangely attractive albeit challenging, he sets out to tame the beast that is Miss Meredith Smythe. The renovation of Miss Smythe will require every skill and all the patience this accomplished Dominant possesses. But, with the help of a friend, and a few tools of the trade, Damien is confident that he can bring out the best in his new client and save Penelope from even further humiliation and anguish. But can he?

Despite her resistance, Meredith finds herself increasingly unable to resist Damien as she is drawn further into his web.

This is a story of dominance and submission; of power and control. It is not for the faint hearted as it takes the reader into the murky but highly erotic world of BDSM.

For more exciting titles from this best selling author, go to and get some spice into your reading life.

Buy it Now!

As she approached him, Meredith did not feel anywhere nearly as confident as she looked. She stopped beside the spare seat at his booth and he rose, extending his hand to greet her. She clutched his hand firmly, shaking it vigorously to try and mask her nerves. She noticed there were two glasses of wine on the table - a white was in front of him and a red was opposite. He saw her look at it and said, “Argentinian malbec.” She looked back at him, unable to mask her surprise. How did he know she liked South American reds, malbecs in particular?
There was another pregnant pause before she could stand it no longer. “Well, you set the time and the venue. Do you intend to invite me to sit down?”
He was studying his wine without looking at her. Just as she was about to turn and leave he said, “I’m considering it. Kneel down on the floor for a few moments Miss Smythe, and I will give you my answer.”
She was aghast. She erupted, speaking through gritted teeth. “You arrogant, self-centered misogynist. What in the world do you think gives you the right to abuse women in your company, treating them like mere objects for your pleasure?”
He looked her in the eye and replied evenly, “On the contrary, I have a great deal of respect for all women. I treat them the way I believe they want to be treated – deep down inside. Sometimes they do not yet know this about themselves or are not willing to admit it, but I help draw it out of them. You, Miss Smythe, are just beginning the journey. You came in here prepared to do whatever it took to get the upper hand. I am sure you were determined to charm the pants off me, but your strategy was flawed because you don’t understand your own needs. You are already becoming aroused. You smelled blood and it aroused you. Unfortunately, you did not realize it was your own blood you were smelling. The hardness of your nipples is obvious and I am sure that an inspection of the inside of your panties would show your inner feelings quite clearly.”
“Do not play your little games with me you disgusting pig and DON’T even presume that you have the right to talk about what you believe may be happening inside my underwear.” As she said it, she could feel the outward signs of arousal mixed with fear as she clenched her legs together. She tried to ignore them and pretend it was not happening. As she stood there in silence, she realized that this meeting had not gotten off to the start she had intended and that she was playing right into Damien’s hands. If she was to have any chance of turning it around, she needed to think fast.

R. R. Greaves was born in Melbourne, Australia in 1958. Having lived in many parts of Australia and overseas, Greaves now resides in Sydney and she writes for fun.

With a lifelong interest in her subject matter she finally decided to put some of her experiences and fantasies into words, toning them down somewhat for public consumption. Her first book was released in mid 2014. This was followed by a new release in Feb 2015 and there are a number of new stories in different stages of production.

With a particular interest in specific forms of erotica, the stories have a lot of explicit detail that comes from years of "hands on" experience. All have a strong element of power exchange between consenting parties. While most involve a key female character submitting to a powerful male, they have a mixture of dominant characters with women submitting to other women, men submitting to women and men submitting to other men.

A key part of the exchange of power between the characters involves the use of consensual physical and mental force, BDSM and spanking.

Check out these other titles by R.R. Greaves

Wow, what a book,


Monday, May 23, 2016

Margarita and the Hired Gun by Patti Sherry-Crews @CherieGrinnell #Historicalwestern

Pampered Margarita McIntosh is not used to being forced to do things she doesn’t want to do—but when her father, Jock, sends her away for her own safety, she has no choice. The long journey from Flagstaff to Durango tests her personal strength of will as never before, and the secret she carries in her saddlebag could be the death of her.
A rough Irish gunman, known to her only as “Rafferty”, is entrusted with getting her to her destination “safe and intact”—something he fully intends to do to claim the reward he’s been promised by Jock McIntosh. With a price on his head, the promised money is Rafferty’s ticket to a new life, and he’s not going to jeopardize that for anything—not even love.

But there are steamy nights and dangers all along the arduous trail for MARGARITA AND THE HIRED GUN, with deadly secrets between them that passion cannot erase. With her father’s enemies after her and the secret she conceals, will Rafferty’s protection be enough to save their lives? And will the heat of their passionate love be enough to seal their future together—if they do survive?


Margarita’s attention was drawn to the stairs again. A man in a fancy brocade waistcoat under a black jacket was making his way down the stairs. He had long silver hair and a mustache curled up at each end, defying gravity with the aid of mustache wax. Catching her eye, he tipped his hat to her.
“He’s older than I expected,” she whispered to Homer, who turned to look over his shoulder.
“That ain’t him,” he said, as the gentleman joined the card game in progress.
 After a beat another man appeared at the railing overlooking the saloon.
He was a tall man with black hair. Leaning on the railing, with his arms stretched out at full span he took in the room below with a predatory gaze. He was powerfully built with broad shoulders and long limbs. Like a bird of prey, he held his head still while his eyes shifted around the room. Margarita felt like he was deciding which one of them he would swoop down to pick off first.
 Although nobody moved, there was a change in the air. It felt like the very air grew hot and dry in his presence, charged with a heaviness that wasn’t there a minute ago.
 When he saw Homer the man’s eyes came to rest for a second. Then his eyes shifted and met with hers. He lifted his eyebrows in surprise, fixing her with such an intense stare; Margarita slunk back in her seat.
“Rafferty,” said Homer, nodding his head in the direction of the man, who was now moving toward the stairs, eyes still on her.
He walked slowly, swinging one long leg after another, a slight swagger in his shoulders. Unable to bear up under his direct gaze any longer, Margarita looked down at her coffee. Her ears were burning and her throat was constricted in anticipation, but still he moved down the stairs and across the room at an unnervingly slow pace. When he arrived on the scene, the women at the table stopped talking and looked expectedly at him. He didn’t register their presence as he walked past them to their apparent disappointment.
The men playing poker watched him with wary eyes. One of them touched the gun in his holster, nervously.
The cowboys stopped talking and drew closer together.
Without a word or invitation the tall man pulled out the chair across from her. The gun sticking out of his waistband put a lump of fear in her stomach.
He jerked his head in her direction, looking at Homer. “Why is she here?” he asked in a deep voice, speaking in the same slow pace as he walked. He had an Irish accent, she noted.
Homer poured out a cup of the thick, dark liquid for him. “Rafferty. This is Margarita McIntosh, Jock’s daughter.”
“And she’s here for what reason?” he asked, again in a brusque tone.
Margarita looked up, her face burning with indignation. She was met with quite a sight. The man across from her had a few days growth of black whiskers covering the lower part of his face. Jet-black hair stood in loose curls around his head in an uncombed mass. His hair was in need of a wash, strands clumping together with something she didn’t want to dwell on. It was hard to guess his age. Older than she, certainly, but she couldn’t discern much beyond that.
 He was without a jacket or shirt, and his long john’s undershirt was pushed up at the elbows, showing long, muscular forearms. Worse, the top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, exposing the patch of black hair on his chest. The tight, sweat-stained garment showed every bulge and indent in his lean torso, including his nipples. He was as good as naked. Margarita tried to hide her shock at this unseemly display. She’d never seen so much of a man’s body before so close up.
His eyes bored into her. They were steely eyes the color of indigo set in bloodshot orbs. Her discomfort seemed to amuse him. He narrowed his eyes at her, a smirk forming on his lips as he observed her observing him. Other than his lips and eyes, he was as still as if he’d been carved in stone. Very economical in his movements, Margarita observed.
“Well, here’s the thing. She’s the job. Jock wants his daughter delivered to his sister in Durango. He wants you to make sure she gets there. Safe--and intact,” Homer said in a way, which embarrassed her.
The man called Rafferty grinned rakishly, displaying surprisingly

Patti Sherry-Crews lives with her husband, two children, a bad dog, and a good cat in Evanston, IL.
She studied anthropology and archaeology at Grinnell College and the University of North Wales, UK.
Under the pen name Cherie Grinnell, she’s written four steamy romances that take place in Dublin and Wales.
Whether it is because she watched too many western TV shows with her grandmother or because her bag of cowboys and Indians was her favorite toy, Patti also writes historic western romances. Her book, Margarita and the Hired Gun with Prairie Rose Publishing came out April 2016, and she has two novellas out now in anthologies by the same publisher.

Twitter Name @CherieGrinnell 

Thanks for sharing,


Friday, May 20, 2016

Chasing the Dead by @KetaDiablo #RomanticIdea, #Western

Chasing the Dead – Keta Diablo #cowboy #paranormal
* * *
Here’s a Romantic Idea for summer!

When summer comes to the Midwest, we think lakes!
One way I love to pass a sunny afternoon is to pack a picnic lunch and head for the water on a Pontoon boat. What could be more romantic than spending a lazy day cruising the lake? The crappies are biting, the sun’s sharing its awesome warmth and the cooler is filled with our favorite beverages.
This is also a great time to catch up on my reading (a romance novel, of course). As the sun sets, we head on over to one of the many restaurants on the lake and enjoy a delicious meal together.
Now this is my idea of Romance!
Happy sailing and happy reading! ~ Keta ~
* * *
Book: Chasing the Dead
Paranormal Western Romance
Publisher: Keta Diablo
Tagline: A sinister ghost is out for revenge. Madrid, Deacon and Sacheen must stay one step ahead of the ghoul and reach the hacienda.

In 1884 New Mexico, Madrid Arrende finds herself kidnapped by the Apache. Determined to rescue her, her wealthy father realizes there is only one man capable of bringing her back alive...Deacon Bannister. Deacon doesn't give one whit about the large sum of money Don Erasmos Arrende has offered him to find his daughter. He  only cares about bringing the woman he left at the altar a year ago home.
A ghost is terrorizing the Apache village and the young maiden, Sacheen, has been banished by her People for unleashing Uday's wrath. Now, Deacon, Madrid and Sacheen must flee for their lives across the rugged New Mexico landscape with the evil spirit in hot pursuit.
Will they make it back alive to Madrid's father's hacienda or will Deacon lose Madrid forever?

Setup and Excerpt: Madrid and Sacheen confront the ghost

Sacheen ignited Maddie's torch and both women scrambled over the half-wall to light the packets of sage. The moon glinted off a shadowy form sweeping past a line of trees to Maddie's right. Dios, the ghost! With gooseflesh rising on her arms, she called out to Sacheen, "Hurry! Light your bundles and go inside with Deacon."
A circle of fire from a dozen piles of sage lit up the sky around the shelter. The wind moaned and wailed, sounding like the sorrowful lament of Scottish bagpipes. What other magic and manipulations had the dead spirit learned in the underworld since Maddie last saw him?
With a look of startled horror, Sacheen shouldered her. "Do you see him?"
"I thought I told you to go inside. We must not show him fear."
"Do you see him!?"
Tendrils of darkness slipped in as the wraith advanced. Maddie shivered when his visage manifested in her line of vision. More terrifying than any specter she'd ever seen, a haze of gray mist swirled around his translucent form. A quiver hung from his shoulder stocked with stone-headed arrows—a sign he'd taken the form of a native from ancient history. Steeped in blood, his clothing hung in tatters around his massive frame—a vest made of animal hides, a breechcloth and fringed leggings. Maddie's gaze traveled to his painted, pock-marked face. Her insides quivered and ropes of tension knotted every cord and fiber of her body.
 Bleary, unearthly eyes turned to Sacheen when the spirit raised a hand with claw-like fingers and pointed at her chest. The wind, much like the sound of women wailing, keened into the deafening silence. Fire exploded from the ghost's eyes—flames the fires of Hell couldn't compete with.
"Yes." Maddie fought to keep her voice calm and even. "I see him. His hunger for you permeates the air."
Sacheen shouted above the roar and chaos. "You are not welcome here! Hear my words, Uday, you are tats-an. You are dead!”
Maddie peered at the girl through the dim light. Uday? She spoke his name?
"It is I, Sacheen, and I do not fear you chidn. Hear my power:
Hinamaya hinamaya hinamay Chee Chi Yo
 Hinamay chee chi yo hinna may chee chi yo
 Hinna hinna hey ya hinna hinna hey yo

A cry of anguish and rage melded, knifed through the dank, still air. The maiden couldn't see him but stood tall before her imaginary tormentor, her aura shimmering like molten glass. "You are like the dust-storm, nothing but a shiver in the air. Do you hear me? I did not want you in life and will not accept you in death. You are yah-ik-tee, no longer with us!"

Keta Diablo lives in the Midwest part of the United States on six acres of woodland. When she isn't writing or gardening she loves to commune with nature. She adores animals and donates her time and support to local food and animal shelters.

Keta is a multi-published author in contemporary romance, erotic romance and gay fiction. She's also an Amazon best-selling author. Her erotica novel Decadent Deceptions was a finalist in the MOLLY contest sponsored by Romance Writers of America and was nominated for a Red Carpet Award in 2014. Her paranormal novel Meko’s Woman was nominated for a Bookie Award by Authors After Dark and her historical novel Sky Tinted Water was nominated for a RONE Award by Ind’Tale Magazine. Her latest contemporary romance novel, Season, Unforgettable, was a finalist in the romance category sponsored by Independent Author Network Book Awards for 2015.

Keta's books have received numerous Top Pick, Book of the Month, and Recommended Read awards from top professional review sites.

Follow Keta on the Net:

Thanks Keta, this sounds like a fun book,


Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Dancing With a Dom by @KatherineDeane1 #Spanking #NeverEndingTour

Dancing With A Dom
By Katherine Deane
Release Date: April 28, 2016
Beauty comes in all shapes and sizes.

Can Macy find love dancing in the arms of a Dom?

To this day, I’m still not sure which is more embarrassing.
Being left by your husband who says you are fat, overbearing, and frigid in bed.
Or having to change partners midway through a season of televised dancing—because your partner can’t lift you.
Both hurt. A lot. The first made me want to curl up into a little ball and hibernate. Since I had plenty of fat to store away for the winter, it didn’t sound like a bad idea.
The second left me so angry, I waltzed the man through his own set of moves—straight up to the full mirror. Then I lifted him. Luckily, he didn’t get hurt. And I didn’t get sued.
But that’s how I ended up over the knee of the hottest man I have ever met.
After he spanked me, he became my new partner.
We danced.
NOTE: This novella originally appeared in the USA TODAY BESTSELLER Bound, Spanked and Loved: Fourteen Kinky Valentine's Day Stories.
This story has been reedited. 10k words of hot new scenes!


(So responsive)
“You are so responsive, my beautiful little girl.” He caressed her neck and swayed with her. “If I spanked you right now, do you think you would come?”
She shuddered in his tight grip.
“Bend at the waist.”
As she obeyed, he watched with awe her gorgeous round globes stretching her black yoga pants. “You have a lovely ass.” He smacked the right cheek. “Begging to be spanked. Would you like me to spank you, Macy?”
She groaned.
He changed the music. The fast beat of the rhythms added to his anticipation as he stroked and slapped each buttock. He smacked one cheek, watching it wiggle. Then the other, picking up the pace with the music. A fire built in him as his cock strained in his pants. “How are you doing?” When he stopped, she groaned loudly.
“Stand up, grab the bar, and bend over with your back straight and your ass out. I’m taking your pants down, now, beautiful girl. I want to feel your flesh against the palm of my hand.”
She whimpered and obeyed, grabbing the bar in a tight fist as she hung her head.
He pulled down her yoga pants and white cotton panties and paddled her ass fast and hard, changing and alternating with the rhythms of the jungle music. Her cheeks reddened quickly as they bounced and jiggled at each firm slap. It was as perfect as he had envisioned. The curves of her cheeks begged to be rubbed, squeezed, whipped, fucked… He hadn’t felt this way in such a long time.
Brushing his finger across her wet pussy lips, he felt the abundant arousal sliding down her legs. “You are so responsive. So wet. So fuckable. Look,” he commanded.
She squeezed her eyes shut and hunched her shoulders. He smacked her hard in the spot where her glowing buttocks met her thighs. She shrieked and tried to shield herself.
“I told you to do something, my beautiful little sub. Look in the mirror.” He pulled her away from the bar and turned her so her red ass reflected in the mirror. “See my beautiful marks on you. See how you glow.”
Her glossy eyes widened, and she licked her lips, breathing heavily as she focused on his favorite sight.


Buy Now on Amazon -
FREE on Kindle Unlimited

About Katherine Deane
USA Today bestselling author Katherine Deane is a multi-published, top 100 romantic and BDSM author and romantic at heart. While she enjoys her life as a stay at home mom, married to the man of her dreams, she also loves fantasizing. She reads and writes in many different genres, but her favorites are: erotic romance, paranormal, fantasy, and science fiction. She blogs about her life as an everyday woman (and closet Spanko), and about her career as a published author.

You can catch up with her at:

Wednesday, May 11, 2016

Hold Fast by @HeatherHartXXX #Erotica #NeverEndingTour

Title: Hold Fast
Author: Heather Hart

 What do you do when you fall in love with the son of your family's sworn enemy?

Bonnie MacDonald lives on the wild and beautiful Scottish Isle of Skye. Her life is peaceful enough, apart from the ever-simmering feud between the McDonalds and the McLeods, who live to the north of them. But now her father is going to die, and it is not to be a Highlander's glorious death in battle, but an underhanded assault in the dark by a traitorous servant. That same treacherous fiend had once come after Bonnie, but at the last moment she was rescued from violation and murder by the one man she cannot show gratitude to, the son of her family’s sworn enemy, Rory Mòr MacLeod.

And yet she falls in love with her rescuer, and he with her, and there never were two more star-crossed lovers. Neither family will readily accept a union between them, but Rory does not give up on making her his own, though Bonnie often misconstrues his intentions. Matters are further complicated when they discover that Bonnie’s guardian harbors a secret passion for his beautiful young ward, and soon claims her for himself.

But everyone’s plans are foiled when another suitor for her hand kidnaps and whisks Bonnie away to a lonely house in the north of Skye. Her only chance is to flee her captor and seek sanctuary in Rory’s castle at Dunvegan. But while Bonnie fights for her own survival, the battling clansmen bring their families to the brink of war, and all for the love of the same woman.

Hold Fast is a historical romantic suspense novel; it is also a sweet romance with no illicit sexual liaisons. The story is based loosely on real events leading to the Battle of Coire Na Creiche, also known as the Wars of the One-Eyed Woman, fought on the Isle of Skye in 1601.

Purchase Links:
·         Blushing Books
·         Amazon

It wasn't that I disliked Rory Mòr MacLeod. What I felt was more akin to pure hatred. I watched as the boy my cousins and I had all called the wee terror of the glen skipped along the banks of the Sound of Sleat as if he owned them. My stomach turned. My father warned me not to mess with the MacLeod scum, and I knew his warning was not without cause. Rory was the favorite son of his father, and the MacLeod clan had been warring with my family forever. What's more, I had cause of my own, for the spoiled brat liked nothing better than to tear my skirts and pull at my braids.
He scampered along, driving an ancient, scrawny cow ahead of him. Rory held his head high, like a strutting peacock, all the while urging the decrepit beast on from the lush green pasture located a short distance from the shore. I had no time to spare for the black-haired, black-fingered, ill-mannered ruffian that he was, so I turned away, pretending I hadn't seen him, and carried on with my work.
"I see you, Bonnie MacDonald. 'Tis a fine day, is it not?"
"Aye, it was, before you came along, Rory Mòr MacLeod."
He paused, a cocky grin spread across his young face, and he leaned upon his staff and looked down at me. "Now that's no way for a lass to talk to a Highland clansman."
"Away with you, you gormless fool." I looked at the poor beast at his side, noting the sharp contours of her bony ribs. "I see that your betters have entrusted you with the pick of the MacLeod crop. It would be better to put that poor animal out of her misery, would it not? What are you thinking, driving such a wretched thing this far south and in this heat? 'Tis a wonder she doesn't die of old age before she makes it home."
He shrugged and watched as I continued to wash the wool in the sea. I kept my head down, hoping he would go away, afraid he would set on me as he had so often done before and make me cry. His silence made me uncomfortable.
"What are you doing so far from the safety of Dunvegan? These lands were taken from you long ago, you've no business here now."
He looked across the land to the distance peaks of the Red Cuillin. Swinging on his staff, he addressed me as if I were still a child.
"A traveler has the right of passage, whichever way his path takes him, does he not? If you must know, the cow is old, and belongs to a kinswoman who lives not too far from these parts. She bade me slaughter her, for she could not. I'm taking her to the market in Saaisag, as I'll get a fair price for her there. As you see there's not much meat on her bones, but she's added plenty of calves to my aunt's stock over the years; so don't judge her by how she looks now, Bonnie."
"It's not the cow I'm judging. What is your aunt thinking, living this far south, so far away from the protection of her kinsmen?"
"The MacDonald's have their people in the north, do they not? Or would you draw a line across the island and keep everyone in their proper place? Any road, if it were not for my childless aunt’s love of me, you would like as never have had the good fortune to meet me. Many a summer she begged me play at her heels, to drive out the loneliness in her heart. I was glad of it. She’s a fine woman, and I do whatever I can to ease her burdens, no matter how far beyond the castle wall she lives."
I looked up, my hands still in the cool water as I scrubbed the freshly cut fleece. There was a swagger about him I didn't like and I wished with all my heart he would go away and leave me to my business.
"Look, is there something you're wanting or are you going to make that wretched cow stand in the sun all day?"
"Ah, well, she'll be well enough, I'm thinking. I was wondering about your good cousin, Donald? He has been the talk of my clansmen of late."
My eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I can tell you he's not been asking after you. Why would he? Are you up to more of your treachery, Rory MacLeod? Do you and your clansmen have nothing better to do than continually plot against mine?"
"Oh, our business would be nothing to a wee sprite of a lass like you." He cocked his head to one side. "You look different. Your hair? You used to braid it."
"I'm not a little child anymore."
"No, Bonnie, I see that you're not."

Author Bio:
Heather Hart is a British author who lives with her family in Maryland. She’s a writer of hot erotic and romantic fiction – an eclectic mix of innocence and dirt in a hyperactive imagination.

When she’s not frantically scribbling away she’s a cat worshipper and curry fanatic. If you like what she writes, please feel free to drop her a line at authorheatherhart@gmail[dot]com.

Visit the other participants joining in the


Monday, May 9, 2016

Celebrate the #NewRelease with Sale on A Cowboy's Pleasure #99cents #ASMSG

To Celebrate the Release of The Country Doctor's Bride.

A Cowboy's Pleasure is 99cents. 

A Cowboy’s Pleasure

Naked Bluff, Texas series
Book 5


Having traveled across the country to escape the war between the states, John Bristol Smith needs a job, any job.
Told of a potential job, he arrives at the interview with high expectation. Nothing, however, in his life prepared him for the nature of this assignment. Tess Van Pelt wants excitement and she means to have it.
Her husband is more than willing to pay for whatever she wants and she wants John.
Is this a job or a fantasy?


“Then tell him straight out what you’re after.” Gab carried the tray over to the table in front of the couch where his wife sat. He handed her a glass then walked the other drink to John.
“Shouldn’t we, at least, give him a little background on us first?” She queried.
After taking the glass, John stepped to a wingback chair and perched on the edge. “I’m sure whatever type of job you’re offering, I’ll be more than willing to work for you.”
Gab chuckled, “You’re right. Most men would, but this requires you not discuss anything that happens within these walls with anyone.”
“Can you do that, John?” Mrs. Van Pelt sipped her drink and her eyes undress him.
Uncomfortable with her probing inspection, he glanced at her husband. “I have no one to tell. Remember, I’m new in town.”
“Yes, you are a God sent. Tess, here, is getting a little restless. She’s used to getting what she wants right away. And well, I’m afraid I’ve kept her waiting too long.” Gab turned to his wife and smiled. “I must admit, now that you are here, I believe the plan has more merit than I previously gave it.”
“See, I told you. It’ll be just like old times.” Tess patted the spot next to her on the couch and her husband sat beside her.
Sorting through every possible job he could envision, John struggled to come up with the task they wanted to achieve. Mrs. Van Pelt seemed excited by the possibility of him working with them. So perhaps, they liked him and would want him to hire on for a few months, maybe even longer.
“Then I guess we better see if John is open to the idea of making love to you,” Gab said and lifted his glass. “So what do you say?”

Hope you enjoy,