First of all, I have another of those books coming out soon. Slide Down On Me. Oh yes, the hero is a bad boy and he’s all tattoos and piercings and naughtiness. You’ll adore him!
The release date for Slide Down On Me is February 12th. Mark your calendars. You can see it on the Ellora’s Cave Coming Soon page, here. I’ll be updating my website page for it soon.
Ever since writing Simple Need and the unbelievable response to it and to Vinter, I have loved, hear me, LOVED writing these tattooed, pierced, very dirty heros. They’ve got sex on their minds and curvy women in their arms. They’re the bad boys every woman dreams of, at least once in her life, and they’re looking to corrupt the good girl.
Grease is a good example. Danny and Sandy.
Dirty Dancing is another one. Johnny and Frances ‘Baby’.
Billy Joel sang about it in Only The Good Die Young and Uptown Girls.
There are other, more recent examples, but…why look away from the classics? Elvis swung and gyrated his hips and all the girls swooned.
The bad boys are who we desire, even as we date the suits. (Though, don’t get me wrong, a man in a suit is delicious all on his own).
I love writing about the bad boys like Vinter, Jaz, Dallon (poor man just gets no love), Brax, and now, Travis. I always have a bad boy in my pocket, ready to come out and play with my readers.
There’s something about their rough-edged ways, their scratchy hands, their wicked smiles, their ink, their language, their Come Play With Me winks… They have stories to tell and soft hearts to give to that special girl. They don’t want the one who’s been around the block, they want the one who needs what only they have to offer. They’ll heal a broken heart, they’ll leave a woman satisfied and wanting more, they’ll fight for what they want but they won’t beg.
I love these men that I’ve created and it makes me grin that you love them too.
I have a plan for a new self-published series about the tattooed bad boys and as soon as it’s more developed, I’ll let you in on it. I’m planning a free read that will go into my Newsletter for those who want to know what happens once Joe gets back to Love and Tattoos and finds Brax and Annie.
And, I know y’all are waiting for more Simple Need books and the plan had been to finish Mac and Jackie’s story and turn it in, however, due to some issues that I am not at liberty to discuss, that plan is on hold, indefinitely. If you wish to email me to express your disgruntlement about this development, I’ll understand. Believe me, I am not happy with it either, but it is the right thing at this time.
The new series that I am planning will hopefully make up for any lack that you feel. Again, when I have more details, they will be given to you, i.e. cover, title, blurb, release date, etc…
These types of books are my favorite to write (especially if I can add some food into them) and I just adore these heros. Not to say I don’t love writing my cowboys and the shifters that I’m working on as well, because well, let’s just say, there’s nothing wrong with any of them… They’re all hot and bothered and delicious.
Being that Slide Down On Me is coming out later than expected, it will push the release of The Sticky Cowgirl back a couple of weeks to the end of February/early March. I am trying not to group releases too close together for both my sanity and your wallet, but mainly my sanity. And, yeah, your wallet. While I want to flood you with books to read, a little time to breathe between hot men is a good thing. I don’t want y’all needing oxygen tanks. Or…maybe I do…
Small-town mechanic and tattooed bad boy Travis keeps his profile low, his needs satisfied outside the city limits, and his business running smoothly. He doesn’t cause trouble and he certainly doesn’t want any. Trouble finds himone scorching afternoon, however, in the form of the equally scorching Arabella Drake. The former heiress owes Travis for car repairs, money she can’t readily pay.
Their situation requires a creative solution, and while most of the town rejects Bella, Travis wants to ravish her. He offers a proposal, one that will soften the repair costs—and satisfy Travis’ longstanding wish to have Bella Drake naked, writhing and sliding down on every inch of him.
Whenever I try a new coffee shop or restaurant, I always ask the barista or waitress/waiter what they recommend. Most of the time, the restaurant staff always has something on the tip of their tongue (no pun intended). But whenever I ask the baristas, they always put the question back on me. I don’t like that. If I knew what I wanted, I wouldn’t have asked.
Coffee is a very personal thing. The taste, roast, sweet, unsweet, etc… And maybe that’s why they turn the question back on me, but I’m asking for a reason.
Reading is very personal too. I’ve been at conferences where readers have asked what books my fellow authors and I, which of our books we’d recommend.
Being that reading is so personal, we do out the question back on them, as the reader. I write mainly contemporary so if you only read paranormal, then I won’t have much you want, unless you’re looking for something new and different.
I always get a little flustered talking to people I don’t know, even and sometimes especially, about my books. But I have been around some authors who are incredible at it. They do you, always put it back to the reader with “what do you like to read?”
I guess, in thinking about this, I can understand why a barista would put it back on me, for me to tell them what I like and what I don’t… I’ll try to be more aware of this next time I go into a new coffee shop, but when I ask, I really do want to know what their favorite is, whether I’d like it or not.
What about you? Do you really want to know what someone would recommend, or do you just want to be helped to a decision of what you might like?
I’m sorry to be late today with this. I’ve been working hard to get The Cupcake Cowboy ready for release.
But, thanksfulness. Thanksgiving is next week and there’s much to be thankful for. This one will seem frivolous given everything that is going on in the world and in our own country…
Music. I love music. I grew up listening to it, spent all of my school years playing it (flute). When I wasn’t working, I spent my high school nights going to rock concerts. Music feeds my soul, comforts me, helps me through the rough times, gives me a high when there’s celebrating to do. I couldn’t live without music anymore than I could live without air.
Baking and Cooking. I love to do both. I love the creativity, the end result, the smile on my family’s faces, the warmth I get feeding those I care for, giving treats. It’s not always about nourishment. It’s sometimes just about giving from the heart.
Movies. There are some I can get lost in, that are warm and comfortable. Some with meaning, some not. They, like music at times, can feed the soul, give a smile to a rotten day, help with a broken heart, make me not so alone, inspire.
Sports. My son is a huge sports fan. Racing was his first sports love and he’s grown to incorporate football, baseball, golf, and basketball. He’s loves learning about sports and those who play them. My husband, I think, passed that love down. Especially for the play beyond the score, the business side, the numbers side. Because of sports, my son and I have things to talk about. I am thankful for my own interest in sports because it’s something that connects me to him.
Our cats. We have 7 of them. One we adopted from a shelter. One was saved by my sister and given to us. One was found abandoned in our bushes when he was 3 days old. And 4 were a mama cat and her babies. The mama had been put outside and left behind when her owners moved. She wasn’t used to it and took up residence under the gazebo of the house she’d lived in. She brought her babies to our house, 5 doors down, after getting to know my daughter. We call her the cat whisperer. We’ve raised them, kept them, sheltered them, fed them, loved them. Our carpet is a mess, torn in places where they claw. There’s always cat hair and I vacuum every other day. They are expensive and they are annoying at times, but I wouldn’t trade these animals for anything. They are alive and need love. They have given my daughter more smiles than I can count and comfort. They adopted us, all 7 of them. They trusted us to take care of them.
The Blue Ridge Mountains. Odd, huh? They are one of my very favorite places to visit. they bring me peace, just standing and looking out at them. The quiet of a cabin in the woods. The quaintness of a small mountain towns. The beauty of nature all around. I go there and I can breathe again. I can think. I can feel the stress and weight of everything fall away. I can see clearly again.
These are all things that touch me, that are part of what make me, me. What are some of those things for you?
I’m a little late today and I apologize. I did however make some homemade bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit sandwiches for brunch so…
Snippet Saturday is sad today, as well. It is our last Snippet Saturday as a collected group. It was started by Lauren Dane and I know all the authors who’ve participated over the years appreciate all the hard work she’s put into it. And I know we authors appreciate all the readers who’ve given us time on Saturday’s.
For myself, I will continue to post snippets and excerpts here on my blog under the heading of Temptation Tuesday.
As the subject heading states, today is Author’s Choice…
Windows in her pickup rolled down, and her stereo blaring with the latest Miranda Lambert album, Chrissie couldn’t wait to spend a little time alone. She needed some space, some time to think. It would probably be a good idea to call Colt, to let him know that she was all right, but after months of depending on herself in a time of need…
Calling her mother was out of the question too. She’d have expected Chrissie to smile and ask how Russ was doing instead of running down the hall like her ass was on fire. She’d have expected Chrissie to wish him all the happiness in the world and for her knees not to shake and her palms not to sweat.
Chrissie’s mother was the soul of genteel Southern upbringing, and though she’d tried to raise her only daughter to be the same, the lessons just hadn’t taken.
Lost in thought as she was, sucking down the sweet, thick chocolate ice cream, and singing along to the songs, her house seemed to appear out of nowhere. It wasn’t good to drive by rote on the curvy country roads, but she had a hard time keeping herself focused. Luckily, she was between schools letting out and people getting off work, so traffic was light. The biggest hazard she might have come up against was a squirrel or two.
The vase of flowers on the front porch surprised her, but the man who pulled up and parked behind her before she was out of her car was the shock.
“Russ?” To say she was caught unawares would not be much of an understatement. She hadn’t noticed him or anyone following her, a testament to just how deep inside her own head she was. “Twice in one day. Dare I ask why?”
He smiled that charming smile she once knew so well, and as he came close, she could see the uncertainty lurking in his eyes. She felt nothing. Not the old twinge of anticipation. Not the thrill she used to get when he’d show up unannounced. Not a thing. Well, okay, some sadness perhaps, a bit of regret. But even those were in very small amounts.
How could seeing someone she once loved and was prepared to marry make her feel nothing?
Whereas his brother Colt made her feel something. Something deep and wonderful. He made her feel…everything. All at once. She could be herself with him and she never tried to impress him, like she’d done with Russ. Colt had seen her at her worst, and he’d seen her at her best. Everything else was the gravy in between.
“They…” She nodded. “They are. Thank you.”
“Probably.” She edged around him and headed toward the house, the vase of flowers in her hand. “What are you doing here?” she asked as she walked.
“I honestly don’t know. After this morning, I wanted to see you, talk to you. I wanted to see if…” He pursed his lips and looked away, out toward the trees at the edge of the property.
She didn’t need him to finish his thought. “After all these months?” Chrissie unlocked the door and stepped inside. Russ followed her, taking one tentative step after another.
She was attuned to uncertainty and wariness. She’d been hunting. She knew what it was to walk through the woods and not make a sound. She knew what it was to smell another hunter’s scent and not want to encroach on his territory. Russ had it written all over him in the way he moved, careful and cautious. Maybe he thought she would shoot him…
She set the vase in the kitchen window. The red, yellow, and orange-colored roses lit the room up in a way that was different than simply the sun shining in. They were brilliant and so full of life. She loved them immediately. She loved that Colt thought enough of her to send them, and even though there was no card, she knew in her gut they were from him. She loved him for it, for the night before, for the morning tease, for wanting her.
She loved him.
“When I saw you this morning with Colt, I… Christina, please look at me.”
He was the only person other than her mother who’d ever called her Christina. She was sure that should have told her something a long time ago, only it wasn’t until now that she’d realized it.
Then again, she’d just put it together that she was in love with her ex’s brother. She turned to Russ with that sentiment front and center in her brain. She didn’t know how to look at Russ and not wince at the mere idea that Colt meant more to her than just a one-night thing. But then, how could she love him? She’d spent one night with him, sharing stories and making love. They hadn’t even talked for any length of time before that, unless she counted the day after when he came to check on her. Then there was his admission that he’d been calling her father every once in a while to make sure she was all right. Those things touched her in ways nothing ever had with Russ. He really had done her a favor by skipping out on her.
Someone—Colt—cared about her. Just her. Not money. Not connections. Not for whatever reason Russ might have thought he cared about her.
Colt didn’t have to do any of the things he’d done, however small and insignificant they may seem to others. To her, they were everything.
Maybe she had meant that she should have married him instead. Maybe she had meant, been admitting without actually saying the words out loud, that Russ had never been the right man for her.
Romance between them hadn’t been instantaneous or earth-shattering. They’d seemed to fit and liked each other well enough, spent time together, and love grew into it, only… Was it really love?
Her mother would have said that whatever it was, love or not, was better than what most people had ever found with someone else. Would Chrissie have really believed that? Would Russ?
If so and if they had married, somewhere down the road…
“What?”She shook herself out of her thoughts. “Sorry. What did you want to say?”
“My brother seems to have worn you out.” He said it with a small smile, and there was no hint of malice in his eyes or his tone of voice. Chrissie knew she should have felt bad, but she didn’t. Russ made his choice. Colt had made his. And now it was her turn to make hers.
“Yes, he did.”
“Good.” He shifted his stance but he didn’t look away from her. “I want to apologize. No, that’s not right. I need to apologize for what happened.”
“You mean, leaving me at the altar?”
“Yes.” He drew himself up. “For leaving you at the altar.”
“It was a bit Cowardly Lion, Russ. For a man who can talk to courtrooms full of people, become best pals with attendees at a party, you were cowardly in how you handled me.” She wasn’t interested in embarrassing him or humiliating him or making him feel any worse that he had probably already felt. It was about moving forward and cleaning the slate, so to speak.
“You’re right, it was,” he admitted. “I can’t explain. I tried, with Colt this morning, but I—“
“I don’t need one, Russ. Maybe some women would, but not me.”
“Most women would.”
Chrissie smiled. A full, real smile. “I think we’ve all established that I am not most women.”
“Yes, we have.” Russ cleared his throat after a few minutes. “I, ah… Even though I’m glad you and Colt seem to have found each other out of this whole thing, I was jealous when I saw you with him this morning.”
“Jealous? Really, Russ. That doesn’t sound like you at all.”
“I know, yet it’s true. My brother in a hotel room with my ex. It was the first time I’d seen you since the night before we were supposed to get married. I was… It was unexpected. A lot of old feelings came rushing back, and I wondered briefly if—”
“If they were still real? If you still loved me?”
“Yes,” he said with relief evident in his voice. “Something like that.”
Chrissie stared hard at him. She didn’t want to hurt him with what she had to say, but she knew the words might. Whatever fantasies she might have had about hurting him, harming him in the days immediately following the jilting, she never meant any of it. She never really wanted him to feel the things she’d felt. “I don’t have feelings for you, Russ. Not anymore. Not like that. I think I could be your friend without issue, but that’s all.” She felt helpless and emotional. She’d imagined this conversation going so many different ways, and in all of them, he ended up dead or gutted like a fish or pierced through the heart and penis with arrows. Then again, that’s how she’d had to get through it, deal with it. This emotional-freeing feeling was better than any of her imagined outcomes. “When I was trying to get over you, I shot. I spent hours outside shooting. I went through so many boxes of ammunition. Each one had a word written across the top. Not very nice words, but they served the purpose I needed them to at the time. I bought enough ammunition, enough arrows for my quivers that I was offered a job at the local gun store. Somewhere in the middle of all that, I started getting over you. I could never have been what you wanted me to be. I wasn’t the feminine, gush-over, talk-up-her-man kind of woman we all, including me, tried to make me believe I was, but in the end…” She shook her head. “You did us both a favor, Russ. And we should both be able to admit that. You hurt my pride, you humiliated me, you even broke my heart to some extent. I’ve never hurt like that, and I don’t want to hurt like that ever again.”
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Enjoy the final snippets from the following blogs…
Thank you for your devotion every Saturday.
It amazes me that I can sing the entire Air Supply song just from seeing the title and despite the fact I haven’t heard the words in years. It’s kinda scary sometimes how that happens.
But…are the nights really better? I don’t know. For some, nights are not better. They are sadder, lonelier. For others, they thrive on nights, come alive after dark.
I sometimes write better at night, when the house is quiet, all the animals and family asleep… Other times, as soon as the sun goes down and night settles in, I’m ready for sleep.
Then again, night is when the Abyss opens for play…
“That little blonde has been eyeing you all night.”
“I know,” came the weary reply.
“You should go introduce yourself.”
Aidn looked over at Robert and rolled his eyes. “Yes, what a brilliant idea because the last time I did that, I ended up fucking the girl until she was murmuring my name in her sleep.”
“True, but we’re here to have fun, to enjoy the sights, and maybe even take a couple of them home.”
“I don’t think I’ll be taking any of them home with me, but feel free to take as many home as you’d like.”
“They wouldn’t all fit in the car. You know, I could always…”
“No. Thanks. I’m good.” Truth was, he was bored. The little blonde, the little brunette, the redheaded knockout…he wasn’t interested. He wanted to leave, to go home, open a beer, flip through channels and numb his mind. He wanted to stop thinking about how Bailey fit against him, about how her lips tasted when he kissed her. He wanted all the crazy ideas and desires to go away and leave him in peace. He wanted her bound and naked, writhing in his bed. He wanted to lose himself in her, be with her as she discovered more of herself and this lifestyle that drew them both. He wanted to keep her.
The sound of a flogger connecting with bare skin brought his head up and around. A crowd surrounded Thor’s play station as always. Aidn smiled. He’d taught the man everything he knew a few years back and was proud that the younger man had made a name for himself. He was giving and conducting workshops on his own now.
As he started to look away, the crowd shifted and Aidn was able to get a look at the flogger’s current lover. “Bailey.”
He closed his eyes, certain he was seeing things, but when he opened them again, she was still there, bound to the X. “Bailey. What the hell is she doing?”
“Well, it looks like she’s…well, that she’s…”
“She loves it. The few times I’ve been with her, she had that same look whenever I touched her. She was so lost in everything I was doing to her. She can’t mask it, can’t hide it, and she can’t fake it. The need to serve, the hunger to give of herself and her body is something she craves.”
“This is so fucking wrong. She’s…” He stalked off in her direction without finishing his comment. He was floored, so taken aback by the fact that she was there in the first place. It really shouldn’t surprise him, she’d been there many times before and he wasn’t sure why it hadn’t dawned on him that she would be there tonight. It was more the fact that she was not only there but half-naked and being flogged. Thor looked as lost in it as Bailey did.
That’s when the jealousy hit him. Fuck.
Stepping through the crowd of people, he stopped directly in front of her line of vision so that when she opened her eyes, his face would be the first thing that registered.
Possessiveness hummed through his blood. He was so…not a possessive man. This girl brought out so much in him that he wasn’t used to feeling, thinking, and he was really getting tired of it. He just didn’t know how or what to do about it. At least that’s what his head said. His gut and his dick were saying something completely different. They were saying mine.
He needed to calm down. If she were to look at him right now, she’d likely be scared that he’d drag her out of there like a caveman. Aidn smirked. Not a bad idea actually.
“What are you going to do?” Robert whispered from behind him.
“Whatever I need to do.”
Aidn watched Thor’s hands caress the light, insistent marks on her pale skin left by the flogger. It was beautiful on her, the contrast. He could almost imagine the heat coming off her. She was wet, too. He didn’t have to touch her to know that between her legs she was soaking, fucking wet.
Another round of flogger meeting flesh commenced. Her back arched into the tails and her fingers curled into fists. Her lips thinned, compressed together, but she didn’t cry out. Thor’s wrist twisted in a side-to-side motion that brought the flogger down in a swish across her shoulders and back, ass and thighs in a constant barrage. She wiggled against the cross, tugged at her bindings and when Thor rubbed her back, massaged the tension from her muscles, she calmed instantly.
She smiled when Thor whispered something against her hair and she slowly opened her eyes. Aidn stepped closer and it took less than a second for the haze to clear. Bingo
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What about you? Are you a night person or a day person. A copy of Pink Buttercream Frosting is up for grabs if you leave a comment…
Also, make sure to check out the following author blogs for more Snippet Saturday…