Welcome E. Jamie

 Alpha vs. Beta by E. Jamie

Romance novels are full of all kinds of delicious heroes! Cops, soldiers, firefighters, cowboys, business tycoons, chefs, teachers, scientists, musicians, doctors etc. Some of those in that list are what we have termed ‘alphas’ and some are ‘betas’. Which do you like best? What’s the difference?

In the most general definition, alphas are known to be strong, dominating, take charge type of men. Others have a subtler strength. They are the hot neighbour next door who teaches at the local high school or the best friend who you’ve all of a sudden started looking at very differently. Both can be equally delicious, depending on the kind of story you like, or even the kind of story you’re in the mood for at that time. I call myself an alpha lover for the most part. I love those men who are hard on the outside, who’ve had to cultivate an emotional distance usually because of some trauma in their past. It has made them appear hard and control is everything for them.

But I also like the story of the quiet scientist who hides a sexy, wild side. I love reading about the guy next door who teaches at the local elementary school who’s all of a sudden the star in some very sexy dreams in his best friend’s nights, or the grieving widower who slowly learns to love a woman again.

I would call the hero in my historical erotic romance The Affair, the second book in my Resistance trilogy, Friedrich Weiss, a beta forced into the alpha mold. He entered the German army full of ambition and bravado, wanting a fully decorated military career. But when we first meet him in Resistance Book One-The Arrangement, he is a man living in a very precarious hell. The war has become something he no longer believes in and yet he is trapped in his role, having to keep up a horrific pretense if he wants to save his people.

He no longer wants glory. He wants only peace. His alpha-ness is now a cloak he has to wear when at his heart; he wants nothing more than a quiet life with the woman he loves and their daughter. But he must remain strong. He must continue to fight. He must continue to move in the world of violence and power to save his love, Elsa, from those who would destroy her.

Follow Friedrich and Elsa’s passionate, heart wrenching journey in the first two books of the Resistance trilogy available now at all major online retailers!

Resistance Book One- The Arrangement: Elsa Mostek is a young Jewish woman who is forced to move with her family from the Warsaw Ghetto in Poland to the Auschwitz concentration camp in 1943. She immediately draws the attention of Nazi Officer Friedrich Weiss who inexplicably shows favor towards her and helps her escape harm many times thanks to the power he wields in the camp. Aware that many of her fellow female prisoners are bartering their bodies for survival and in desperation to save her starving family, Elsa makes an offer to Friedrich.

What Elsa does not know is that Friedrich is a spy with the German Resistance that has infiltrated the Nazi regime. He must keep up the pretense of loyalty to Hitler’s cause as he sends secrets to those on the outside. Friedrich doesn’t want to take advantage of Elsa but can’t help wanting her. As the misery of his position increases, she offers him the only light left in a world of darkness and despite his best intentions, Friedrich gives in to her offer. Passion explodes between them, giving them a reprieve from the monstrous world they inhabit, though both know it can never last.

Resistance Book Two-The Affair: Elsa Mostek Friedman has built a good life for herself and her daughter, Catherine. A life of privilege and wealth. It’s a life that’s a far cry from her humble beginnings in a Polish village. It’s a life built on lies, because while she adores her husband, David, it’s another man who haunts her dreams. It’s another man her body yearns for: Catherine’s father, the German Resistance spy Friedrich Weiss, who infiltrated the Nazi regime. Their love was forged in the horrors of Auschwitz and when Friedrich helped Elsa escape, it was to build the very life she has now.

Now Friedrich has returned and Elsa is torn between her love for her husband and all the security he provides, and the love she has for Friedrich, who is still a hunted man. Elsa and Friedrich have no future, but passion explodes between them, hotter than ever. And for all their noble intentions, for all their fears of discovery, neither can stay away from the other. Elsa walks a knife-edge line between both men as she also tries to protect the secrets she’s kept for over six years.  But there are others who know Elsa’s secrets and they too have returned to make sure the carefully constructed world she’s built explodes in a rain of violence and vengeance that will only be appeased when everything Elsa holds dear is destroyed.

 About the Author

A self confessed ‘city girl’ E. Jamie lives in TorontoCanada and loves roaming the streets of her vibrant city to feed her muse. She loves penning passionate tales that leave the bedroom door wide open! She enjoys writing across all erotic sub genres from contemporary to historicals! In her spare time she wishes she had more time to read, explore her city, watch TV and dish up some delicious creations. Cooking feeds both the culinary and writing muse and she is also going to be working on a non-fiction cookbook soon! She’s always thrilled to hear from her readers at her website www.authorejamie.wordpress.com on facebook www.facebook.com/authorejamie and twitter www.twitter.com/authorejamie

 

Talking with Samantha Holt/Contest

Hi and welcome to my blog, Samantha. Please make yourself at home and grab a drink from my hunky cabana boys, Zeke and Jake.

To get us started can you tell us a little about what you are working on or have coming out? 

I have just finished a fantasy romance and soon I’ll be moving onto book 3 of The Borderland Legacy. Book 2 – Borderland Beauty is coming out at the end of May.

Do you have any guilty pleasures? 

Does stealing my children’s chocolate count? Probably not as I never feel guilty. Hey, I’m doing them a favour and saving them from tooth decay!

How do you get yourself in the mood to write? 

Have a coffee. That’s it mostly. I try and look at it as a job so I make myself do it, even if I don’t feel like it. That doesn’t mean I don’t have days when I seem to live on Facebook though…! But I do try to focus and remind myself that this is a job and I need to work if I ever want to buy the castle I’m saving up for.

Is music a factor for you while you are writing? Do certain songs put you in the right frame of mind to write certain stories? 

Absolutely. I don’t actively look for songs to match but often I’m listening to an album and one song will stick out as the lyrics seem to echo what I’m writing. Then I will listen to it obsessively until everyone is sick to death of it!

Do you have a book that was easiest to write or one that was the hardest? 

My last one, Borderland Beauty, was tough. Mostly because I was writing a real alpha male and that’s a big change for me as all my heroes are pretty tortured souls. Now I can look back and say that I love the book but at times I was ready to chuck it all in. 

What can readers expect next from you? 

More sexy borderland men and hopefully a highland novel at some point. It’s on my to do list but my muse can be a little stubborn at times!

 

 

Borderland Bride (The Borderland Legacy) by Samantha Holt

Historical Romance

Publisher: Jupiter Gardens Press

Release Date: March 21, 2013

Heat Level: Steamy

Word Count: 50,000 

Buy Links

Amazon: http://amzn.com/B00C825F1W

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/borderland-bride-samantha-holt/1115054338

Jupiter Gardens Press: http://jupitergardenspress.com/shop/borderlands-bride-the-borderland-legacy-book-1/

Book Trailer~http://youtu.be/ijcIPOa27gg

These are the borderlands, lass. We make our own rules here.

In the wilderness of 14th century Northumbria, Lady Isabel discovers just how dangerous the borderlands can be. With the loss of her voice and her hearing, there is little hope left for her. But when a brooding knight rescues her, she vows never to become a victim again and buries the secrets of her past in the hope that those hunting her will never find her in the borderlands.

Jake is astonished to come across the beautiful Isabel, near to death, on his brother’s lands. Bringing her back to his brother’s home, he finds himself longing for something more from the courageous woman, something that he thought he would never want again. Isabel works her way into his scarred heart and opens Jake up to loving once more. But will Isabel’s secrets destroy their bond? And with his charismatic brother, Dominic, charming her, does he even stand a chance?

Warning: This title is intended for readers over the age of 18 as it contains adult sexual situations and/or adult language, and may be considered offensive to some readers.

Teaser Excerpt:

As soon as his name left her lips, Isabel could not fail to detect the darkening of his eyes. Her skin tingled as elation turned to lust and she glanced down at her bare body, the heat of the water doing little to stop the shudder that coursed through her.

“Say it again,” he murmured as a hand came up to cup at her cheek.

“What?” she breathed.

“Say my name.”

His thumb pushed across her damp face and her lips parted as her heart pounded faster.

“Jake.”

He groaned and pulled himself up so he could lean across her. His lips joined with hers in a rush of movement and her breath caught at the sudden heat of his mouth upon hers. Intuitively falling into a motion that was both so familiar yet so excitingly new, she kissed him with enthusiasm, enjoying the way his breathing stilted as their passion increased.

His tongue swept inside her mouth, searching for hers, and Isabel entwined her wet fingers around his neck, forcing him closer. His tunic dipped under the water and brushed across her breasts but he paid little heed, instead bringing his other hand up to support her head, his fingers digging under her damp braid.

As the kiss deepened, they both moaned and her hair loosened while his fingers delved through it, sending it tumbling over the edge of the tub. A splash resounded through the room as his hand left her cheek and dove under the water to grab at her body. Jake’s fingers curled around her ribs, drawing her closer to him and she let out a gasp.

Jake’s hand froze briefly but Isabel drew a hand from his neck and placed it over his, pinning his hand in place. He relaxed and dragged his lips across her cheek to her ear.

“What are you doing to me, lass?” he whispered.

She quivered as his breath grazed over her ear and his hand continued to massage at her bare skin under the water.

“No more than you are doing to me.”

About the Author:

Samantha resides in Warwickshire, England with her twin girls and occasionally her husband, who works abroad. She admits that his long absences often help get the creative juices flowing. She’s a romance addict and has been devouring all kinds of romance for as long as she can remember.

A huge history buff, Samantha likes to blend her love of the past with her love of romance and create thrilling and passionate tales set to medieval backdrops. She thinks there’s nothing sexier than a rugged warrior and a feisty maiden falling head over heels for each other. 

Connect with Samantha Holt

Website: http://www.samanthaholt.org.uk/

Blog: http://samanthaholtauthor.blogspot.co.uk/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/romanticfiction

Giveaway Info:
Prize is 5 eBook sets (1 set each to 5 winners) of ‘The One Knight Collection’. Contest is tour-wide and ends May 17. Must be 18 years of age or older to enter.

Link to Schedule:
http://www.cblspromotions.com/2013/04/vbt-borderland-bride-borderland-legacy.html

Fill out the Raffelcopter below to be entered…

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Talking with Sarah Cass

Wayward Westerns and Little House on the Prairie

Growing up, I was not a lover of westerns.

I never watched Bonanza (because, really?).  I certainly never watched the movies.

And can I let you in on a little secret?

I hated the Little House TV series…

Okay, I liked it at first.  I am a huge fan of the books.  I often retell the story (as do my parents) that I read and reread those books about 20 times before I graduated high school.

I couldn’t stand the fact that the TV series went so far off the mark. (For the record, the Disney Miniseries a few years back gets my big thumbs up, I had a few nit-picky complaints but on the whole liked it).

I turned my back on the TV show and stuck with my books.

My senior year of high school I made my first foray into the world of TV Westerns with Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman. Oh yes, I was in love with the sweeping romance, until the romance soured for me and I turned my attention to the townies. The secondary players fascinated me more (and still do).

After DQMW, I backed off the world of westerns everywhere but my writing.  My fascination with the time period had begun with the clothes described in the Little House books, and continued on into full on love for the time period.

Still, it wasn’t until I married my husband that I discovered things like Wyatt Earp, Tombstone – and eventually we both went a little nuts over Deadwood (shame on you, HBO, for cancelling it!!). Now there’s Hell on Wheels, which my husband doesn’t enjoy as much as I do.

I often joke about how my love for two so disparate westerns can exist. And point out that in my first novel, Changing Tracks I sort of split the difference and make a town that’s a little of both worlds.

I know all of the shows hold inaccuracies. And I’m okay with that (in everything but Little House, sorry…). I love the way the story is told.

For the record, I do still read Little House.  Not nearly as often as I once did, but I do still read them.  My girls have started to read them too.

These days I appreciate a good western, and sometimes I even enjoy a really bad one (Cowboys and Aliens, anyone?).

After all, I can count them all as research, right?  I do write Historical Western Romances, after all.

What about you?  Do you like watching Westerns?  What do you watch for?  The clothes, like me?  The stories?  Or is just the atmosphere is enough?

 

Masked Hearts by Sarah Cass

Sweet Cravings Publishing

Historical Romance

Buy Links:

Sweet Cravings Website -  http://bit.ly/12z5EuC

Amazon -  http://amzn.to/ZYH9CP

Barnes & Noble -  http://bit.ly/18a4Gr7

All Romance Ebooks -  http://bit.ly/12MaZ0K

Minnie Woodward lives a lie. After barely surviving the Bear River Massacre she’s lived in the white world of her guardian Mister Rawlins, her life debt keeping her tied there. The last thing she needs is Roy’s attempts to gain her favor. Her fate’s sealed. She’s never believed in hope, and not even Roy can make her start.

Roy Ornum saves Minnie every night in the traveling Wild West show. The job he took to break his gambling habit brought him a new addiction – her. He knows she doesn’t want to be rescued, but maybe he does. She’s the key to a past he lost, one he wants to find again.

As the two grow closer old wounds are reopened and their burgeoning trust is shattered. When lives hang in the balance of their choices they’ll need to work together. Otherwise everything will be lost before hope can be found. 

Excerpt:

Her finger jabbed into his chest, bringing his attention right back to her flashing brown eyes. The fire she directed at him might have cowed another man. For him it brought back memories of sunshine. It also lit a blaze under her touch that spread like wildfire. “You leave me alone.”

“No.” Roy grinned at how fast her anger melted across her features. It would be suicide to yank her close and kiss her, though at the moment he wasn’t sure if he cared. He leaned closer. “I have been trying to get you to talk to me every day for the past year. I think you’re running out of excuses not to.”

“Don’t bet on it.”

“I don’t bet anymore.” He caught her finger when she jabbed at him again. The moment her hand opened to pull free he flattened it to his chest.

She tugged against his hold. “I do well not speaking to anyone. You’re the only one that seems to have an issue with it. Even the Mister prefers me silent.”

“You don’t want me talking to the braves. You won’t talk to me. I suppose you just want me to be silent too?” He held onto her hand a moment longer before setting it free. “Why do you hate them so much?”

“They’re weak.”

“That so?”

“They stay.” Her chin lifted. Like a lifeline she held the tomahawk in a white-knuckled grip. “They say they owe the Mister more, but they don’t. They choose this. Weak little men.”

“How does that make them weak?” Roy furrowed his brow.

“They prefer this disgusting display to life on the reservation. They are afraid to live on a reservation. They are afraid to try to escape and go be free out on the land that was once ours—because there are so many of you white men to catch or kill them.”

“You stay.”

“I have no choice.” Her jaw worked. A glimmer of a tear shimmered at the corner of her eye before a rapid blink carried it away.

“And Max?”

“There’s a price on his head, and he’s old. He has no choice.”

“And me?”

“You don’t matter.” She tossed aside the tomahawk, and then turned to leave. “You’re one of them.”

“Minnie, wait.” Roy followed her to the supply wagon. Even though she ignored him, he crouched beside the chair. “Please, I only ask because it’s important.”

“I told you. You don’t matter.” She picked up her needle and the canvas. Quick stitches repaired the holes he’d shot in the tent.

“Not that. What tribe are you from?”

“I don’t remember.”

“You lie.”

“Newe.” She kept stitching.

“Newe. The people,” he whispered.

A small yelp escaped. A drop of blood appeared on her thumb before she shoved it in her mouth. With wide eyes, she stared at him.

With a gentle touch he pulled out her thumb. “What?”

“How did you know that?”

“I don’t know. I think…I think I remembered it.”

About the Author….

Sarah Cass’s world is regularly turned upside down by her three special-needs kids and loving mate, so she breaks genre barriers, dabbling in horror, straight fiction, and urban fantasy. An ADD tendency leaves her with a variety of interests that include singing, dancing, crafting, cooking, and being a photographer. She fights through the struggles of the day, knowing the battles are her crucible and though she may emerge scarred, she’s also stronger. Now officially multi-published, she’s still working on bringing new stories to fill out her year and your reading lists. While busy creating worlds and characters as real to her as her own family, she leads an active online life with her blog, Redefining Perfect, which gives a real and sometimes raw glimpses into her life and art.

Where to find me:

Redefining Perfect – http://redefiningperfect.com

Sarah’s StoryLines – http://authorsarahcass.com

Twitter – http://twitter.com/sadiecass

Facebook – http://facebook.com/SarahCass.Author

 

Book Barrage for The Count’s Last Mistress

The Count’s Last Mistress (The Valencourts #1) by Bess Greenfield

Historical Romance

Publisher: Self/Indie

Release Date: March 12, 2013

Heat Level: Steamy

Word Count: 91,000

Buy Links

Amazon (Print): http://www.amazon.com/Counts-Last-Mistress-Valencourts/dp/0615775330/

Amazon (Kindle): http://www.amazon.com/Counts-Last-Mistress-Valencourts-ebook/dp/B00BSV4CCC/

She set out to expose his true nature, but the secrets revealed were her own…

In the aftermath of war and revolution, cavalry officer Olivier Valencourt, the comte de Chaumenay, only wants peace. But his discovery of his deceased brother’s child in a Montmartre hovel leads to a battle of wills with the lovely but evasive American struggling to provide for him. Determined to gain custody of his nephew, Olivier sets out to win the audacious bohemian’s trust with patronage and patience, but her courage, wisdom, and innocent sensuality divert his agenda.

Painter Jeanne Delancy has good reason to despise the portrait-worthy count before she ever meets him. She believes he’s the man who seduced and deserted her friend long ago. Unfortunately, the talented and persuasive Olivier is hard to dislike or resist in person.

Conflicted by loyalty to her missing friend and her duty to the abandoned six-year-old she’s vowed to protect, Jeanne feels obligated to give the war hero the opportunity to prove he’s worthy of knowing his son. But the independent woman who thinks herself immune to temptation underestimates Olivier in many ways and reveals far more than she ever anticipates. While the strong-willed opposites struggle to reconcile their deepest longings, dangerous alliances and scandalous secrets threaten a tragic repetition of history.

Warning: This title is intended for readers over the age of 18 as it contains adult sexual situations and/or adult language, and may be considered offensive to some readers.

Excerpt

The door opened, and the impersonal explanation he’d memorized vanished from his mind. He’d expected to see the lithesome, titian-haired beauty he’d known long ago in Burgundy. Instead, he encountered a petite brunette in a paint-smeared smock. There was also paint in one of the corkscrews of hair which had fallen free of her chignon. Something about the woman arrested him though he deemed her unconventionally pretty at best with her wide forehead, long nose, and dainty mouth. Perhaps it was her reaction to him. He could sense the frantic beating of her heart, and her golden brown eyes telegraphed wariness.

He regretted causing her distress and hastened to explain himself. “Good afternoon. I am Olivier Valencourt.” He bowed instinctively. “I’m looking for Claudine Ardaut, and I was informed she lived here. Is she at home?”

The young woman swallowed and hesitated, clearly debating her reply. “I am not familiar with anyone by that name.”

Her French was grammatically correct, but her accent revealed her as American. It surprised him to find a foreigner in Paris now. It was unlikely that she’d come here recently. The ruins of landmarks and homes and the mass burials of the executed made Paris a tourist destination only for those with a morbid taste for tragedy. She must have come before the war. There had been little warning when France declared war against Prussia. Many foreigners found themselves trapped inside the barricades along with working-class Parisians without the resources to leave.

“I was given this address by a reliable source,” he persisted. Instinct told him she was lying.

“Are you implying that I’m lying to you?” she asked in her slow, unnatural-sounding manner of speech.

“Certainly not. I was merely hoping you might know some little detail which would enable me to find her.”

Absently, she touched her face, leaving umber fingerprints upon her cheek. He felt an irrational urge to wipe the paint from her smooth, fair skin. She was pretty by any standard, he decided.

“Why are you looking for this woman? Has she done something wrong?”

“No. I’ve come on a personal matter.”

If anything, she looked even more defensive. Her enormous eyes filled with censure as if she knew what he’d done and the ramifications. The guilt he’d been trying to suppress for weeks finally assailed him. If only he’d kept his opinions to himself, so many lives might have turned out differently.

Her evasiveness maddened him. He only wished to complete his mission and be done with the whole matter, and she was keeping him from accomplishing that. He’d overcome far more challenging obstacles than a reticent female. He’d been good at persuading women at one time though he could scarcely recall those years now. Searching for some way to draw her out, his glance fell upon her voluminous smock. Sometimes the best strategy was the most obvious one. “You are a painter, I see. I recently came into possession of some property and could use some new art for decoration. Do you have anything for sale?”

She frowned, instantly suspicious. “Nothing is finished.”

“I know how you artists are. Nothing is ever completed to your satisfaction.” He took a step toward the threshold. “Why don’t you allow me to be the judge?”

She held her ground. “I’m certain my style would be too modern to suit your taste.”

She folded her arms about her waist, and his eyes were instantly drawn to her small form. She possessed a better figure than he’d thought, full round breasts and a tiny waist. A strange sort of agitation arose inside him. With astonishment, he recognized the sensation as lust. He hadn’t felt desire for so many months he’d feared he might never regain that part of his nature. Though he felt reassured that all was in working order, the inappropriateness of his irrational attraction irritated him. “And you know my taste.”

She surveyed his uniform from his polished boots to his fitted jacket with its neat rows of small gold buttons and black braiding. “You are an officer of some sort. A military man. I would guess you are conservative and view art primarily in terms of investment.”

He’d never given a second thought to art, but he didn’t appreciate her making assumptions about him. “There you are wrong. As it happens, I prefer more modern pieces. Besides, your refusal to let me judge your work only makes me more curious about it.”

About the Author

Bess Greenfield grew up in Pittsburgh and graduated from Cornell University and University of Pittsburgh School of Law. Before coming to the conclusion that she should pursue her passion and become a novelist, she worked as a journalist for several newspapers, as a lawyer, and as a waitress (disastrously). She is a lifelong aficionado of romantic literature and currently lives in Northern Virginia with her husband, three children, and overly affectionate chocolate Labrador. When she is not dreaming up and researching new stories or driving her children somewhere, she enjoys traveling, walking in the forest, and adding to her growing collection of native Virginia plants. For more information about Bess Greenfield and her books, please visit www.bessgreenfield.com.

Giveaway Info:
Prize is an eBook copy of “The Count’s Last Mistress”. Contest is tour-wide and ends May 5. Must be 18 years of age or older to enter.

Link to Schedule:
http://www.cblspromotions.com/2013/04/blogbarrage-counts-last-mistress.html
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Book Spotlight~Tabitha Shay’s Send Him an Angel

Send Him an Angel by Tabitha Shay

Secret Cravings Publishing

Paranormal/Historical Romance

Buy at Publisher

An Angels of Deadwood Gulch Series, Book One

In the Badlands of the Dakota Territory, a war is raging between good and evil, between angels and Satan’s three sons…

Earth Angel—Elizabeth Bonner’s plans for her wedding dissolve when she
discovers her fiancé in bed with her mother. To escape the pain, she flees to the rowdy mining town of Deadwood Gulch to claim a recently inherited gold mine. Only one person stands between her and hell—Gabriel King.

Dark Angel—Saloon and brothel owner, Gabriel, is a man feared by most, but he meets his match with Elizabeth. When her father dies in his arms with the request for him to look after his only child, Gabriel is determined to protect Elizabeth at all costs. 1876, Dakota Territory is no place for a Southern lady whose innocence is tempting as sin. Toss in a couple of trouble-making cherubs, and the Old West will never be the same.

Elizabeth and Gabriel—more than one war is brewing in the Black Hills.

 Teaser Excerpt:

His hands fell away to his sides. “Since you brought it up, anytime you need the edge taken off any appetite, I’m available.” He spoke in a soft, low voice, and with such intimacy, Elizabeth prayed no one heard them but her.

“I did not bring up anything,” she snapped, feeling her cheeks burn.

“On that subject, my dear, Elizabeth, I’m afraid we disagree.”

“You, sir, lack all the attributes of a gentleman.”

“And you, miss, are in no need of a gentle man.”

“I fear you lack either quality no matter the reference.”

“I’ve never claimed to be a gentleman, either. I’m a businessman. Are you certain you won’t accept my offer to…dine? We could discuss the disposal of your mine and mercantile without a captive audience and a crooked lawyer.”

“Not in your lifetime.”

Amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Ah. One can never be sure how long a lifetime one might live.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said tight-lipped, “I have a fitting to attend and you’re in my way.”

“Waste of time,” he muttered. “You’ll never wed him.”

Her head jerked up. “What did you say?”

“Please think about selling the mine and mercantile to me. You can’t possibly want to make a trip to Deadwood. It’s an exceedingly tedious journey, fraught with danger. Indians. Outlaws. Rattlesnakes. You don’t want to visit such an uncivilized settlement.” He tucked a curl behind her ear. “There’s nothing but shanties, tents, and rough miners sluicing back to back. The other residents are mostly lewd women living on lost dreams and laudanum. The women who don’t commit suicide die from drug overdoses, disease or just plain used up.”

Elizabeth swatted his hand. “Mr. King, I have no desire to have this indecent conversation.”

“Well, you better listen, lady,” he ordered in a no nonsense manner, “unless you wish to live a very short life.”

“Are you threatening me?” She reared back, unable to believe he had the nerve to try and terrorize her in front of witnesses, not that anyone of the three in the room seemed to be paying much attention to her.

“I’m not threatening you,” he replied. “I’m warning you. Deadwood is dangerous even for those who know to watch their backs.

 About the Author

Tabitha Shay is the author of paranormal romances, Witch’s Brew, Witch’s Heart, Witch‘s Moon, Witch’s Magic, and Witch’s Fire.

A member of the Oklahoma Writer’s Federation, Inc., she has served as both a category chair and judge. Her books have been nominated for several awards, including the prestigious P.E.A.R.L. Award for Witch’s Magic and Witch’s Moon, which was also nominated for Best All Around Paranormal in 2008. Witch’s Fire won Runner Up for Best Paranormal Book of 2010 at LRC.

Ms. Shay is also the author of the contemporary western romances, Montana Men Series, In the Arms of Danger, No Holds Barred, Too Hot to Handle/Too Close to the Fire, and Wild, under the pseudonym, Jaydyn Chelcee.

Scope out my new cover for Send Him an Angel/http://tabithashay.blogspot.com/?zx=6280b71cc20f6e5a

Book Spotlight~ Imprints by Natalie Acres

A brand new wolf-shifter series debuts today from Siren-Bookstrand and Natalie Acres

 

Dominant Wolves, Submissive Mates-Book One

Historical~BDSM~ Paranormal~ Ménage a Trois Romance~Werewolves

Spanking~ wax play~sex toys from a bygone era~bondage

 

Visit Natalie Acres at Siren Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/imprints

 

Blurb:

Two pack masters discover an unyielding love in one woman by altering customs and forming new traditions destined to change the Wyoming Territory forever. Imprinting upon and sharing a lover, the Alphas realize their packs must join together, but they will face great opposition when their chosen mate is confronted with a wrenching decision.

Pack masters Frank Smith and Jock Corrigan aren’t enemies, but they aren’t exactly friends. Still, their similar fates have been altered by an unusual union they cannot deny. Their relationship with Carla Cassidy forces several wolves to make their independent choices. One will stand with the newly formed pack, but another will fall victim to his own selfish needs and motives. A group of new shifters will emerge and change the course of history, but not before the expanding pack’s goals are tested and tried.

 

  STORY EXCERPT

 

“What are you doing here?” Carla asked, propping her tiny clenched fists on her hips.

“Far be it for you to show a little appreciation,” Jock said, studying the spitfire of a woman before them. Wearing a light blue prairie dress, Carla apparently hadn’t stopped to check out the torn fabric and soiled material.

“You were attacked by a pack of wolves. I arrived in time to run them off.” Jock stood a tad taller with his announcement. Most women appreciated heroic efforts.

She paled then as he spoke. She looked down at the evidence of a ruined dress and her hands twitched.

“How did this happen?” Carla asked, suggesting her memory had failed her.

“You must’ve had a nasty bump on the head if you don’t remember,” Grant told her.

She held the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Everything is a bit foggy.”

“Well, don’t you fret none, Carla. We took care of ya.” Grant shot Jock a quick glance. “Yep, siree. Me and Jock here handled everything.”

Jock was beginning to think whenever there was a “yep, siree,” added to Grant’s speech it was nothing more than a bald-faced tale.

“Do you remember going to the barn?” Jock asked.

Carla took a minute before she answered. As if she suddenly recalled something of interest, her cheeks turned pink and she said, “I may have already been in the barn.”

Grant shot her a wink and a lopsided nod. “That was my best estimation, too.”

“Dear God,” Jock grumbled, beginning to believe Grant must’ve considered himself the most intelligent man in the West.

“Here’s how I figure things went down. Those wolves heard a lot of activity, maybe even some squealin’ and carryin’ on comin’ from the barn…” He paused and arched a brow. “How am I doin’ so far?”

Carla stared at him with this perplexed look which made Jock wonder all the more. Had Grant really watched Carla in action with these wicked props he’d mentioned?

“That’s all right, sweetness. Don’t worry ’bout a reply. I can make heads and tails out of this. Anyhow, you were in the barn doin’ whatever it is that you do out there—in the loft—and well, what I came up with after a-prowlin’ around is that you were makin’ a little too much noise.” He stood taller and his lips spread into a mischievous smile. Leaning against Jock, he added a whisper, “How’d I do? Did ya like that?”

Jock studied the pretty lady. “Carla? How close was Grant’s guess?”

“What sort of squealing?” Carla arched a brow and watched them through suspicious eyes.

Grant shrugged. “That voice of yours is as fine as cream gravy when you go to hollerin’ and such.”

“Grant,” Jock muttered, giving his buddy a one-word warning he would inevitably ignore.

Copping a strut, Grant approached the porch, working what little swagger he possessed. “Come on, Carla. You know what I mean. You can’t kick up a row and expect no one to hear ya. I ain’t been a man for all these years for nothin’. I can spot an experienced woman.” He cupped his ear, slung his arm off to the left, and quickly added, “And I can hear one from way over yonder.”

Before Jock had a chance to smooth things over, a disgusted gasp fell from Carla’s mouth. “Well I’ve never in my life.”

“Me neither,” Grant admitted. “But after what I’ve witnessed, I’d be the first man to say you are a soiled dove to the manner born. And I’d be the first to mention yer geared up to teach even an experienced fella a thing or two.”

Carla’s eyes filled with tears. Before Jock saw the slap coming, she opened her hand and her palm connected with Grant’s cheek.

“I don’t know who you think you are, Grant Ford, but if you’re trying to make a mash on me, I can promise you, I’m not impressed!”

Grant stared back at her with wide eyes. “Surely to God you ain’t offended.”

“I am indeed!”

And of course after that, Miss Carla Cassidy did what Jock suspected she might. She walked inside, slammed the door in their faces, and never so much as bothered to say good-bye.

“Happy now?” Jock asked, without blinking an eye.

“I like ’em a little hot under the collar. Trust me, friend. I know what I’m doin’. Let’s go for a run. When we get back, she’ll be fit to be tied—and I mean that in the literal sense.”

Jock couldn’t help but think about Grant’s earlier words. One of these days, Carla would open the door and greet her husband. Considering what had transpired, Jock had a feeling she’d slam that door just as quickly if she thought her potential suitor was named Grant Ford.

 

Copyright ©2013 Natalie Acres

Visit Natalie Acres at Siren Bookstrand for an adult M/F/M excerpt: http://www.bookstrand.com/imprints

Visit Natalie on Facebook and keep in touch: https://www.facebook.com/NatalieAcresAuthor

 

Book Spotlight~ Cherish the Knight by Diane O’Key

 CHERISH THE KNIGHT by Diane O’Key

The Wild Rose Press

Historical Romance

Buy at Publisher

Blurb:

Ambushed as he approaches the English estate promised him by William the Conqueror, Lord Cort Dornogard dares trust no one…least of all the spirited Gaelic healer, Alexis Fallon, who fascinates even as she defies him.

The magnificent Norse warrior threatens both Alexis’ heart and cherished autonomy, for she harbors a secret about the ambush she cannot reveal. Honesty will cost her her freedom. But silence may cost her far more.

Cort harbors a damning secret of his own—one guaranteed to foment rebellion among his new subjects. Escalating attacks and accidents on the estate confirm that fear. His foes, both English and Norman, will exploit what he hides to destroy him, his dreams, and the woman he’s grown to love.

Snared in a web of castle intrigue, passion, and betrayal, Cort and Lexi are far more than either suspects. And if they do not learn to trust, their enemies will destroy them both. Will they discover too late that truth is a double-edged sword?

 

EXCERPT:

Hair spilling over the floor beneath her bed, Lexi lifted her buttocks and rocked back on her hands. The sight almost dropped Cort to his knees. To imagine her thus was his fondest dream; to see her thus and be unable to have her, his worst nightmare. In what had become a habitual reaction of late, he leaned his head against the doorframe and closed his eyes.

When he reopened them, the view had not improved. Or improved too much, he thought with a tormented grimace. She’d levered herself back on her elbows to peer beneath the bed ropes, elevating her backside even more in the process. Cort stifled a groan at the sudden heaviness in his groin, sure he was about to disgrace himself.

“Where could it have— Ouch!” The pained exclamation punctuated a sharp crack as Lexi’s head connected with the bed frame. “Goat gonos.” Rubbing her scalp, she sat back on her heels.

Amused by her inventive vulgarity, Cort barked a laugh and stepped into the room. She swiveled around with an injured expression.

“Your pardon,” he managed, relieved that humor had somewhat allayed his passion. “I never heard that…phrase before. Are you all right?”

Delightful color rose in her cheeks as she touched the bruised spot and winced. “Aye. My mother claims I inherited my father’s thick Gaelic head.”

“Good thing, lady. You’ve certainly put it to the test several times recently.”

Her tongue inched halfway between her teeth before she apparently reconsidered and withdrew it. Cort was tempted to tell her she was welcome to stick out her tongue anytime. As long as she used it on him. In any proper—or better yet, improper—way she chose. He shivered at the thought.

“Are you cold?”

“Hardly.” He had to force the word through a throat grown noticeably thick.

She cast him a perplexed look, then rose and slapped the wrinkles from her sea-green tunic and ivory underblouse. “Did you want something, my lord?”

My poor, provocative innocent, you have no idea.

“Need I remind you again, lady, it’s Cort, not my lord? Come here,” he growled.

She glided toward him, though her eyes reflected bewilderment at his tone. “Have I done someth—”

“No, but I hope you will.” Cort swept her against him, uncaring that she must feel his arousal hard against her belly.

Lexi gazed up at him, translucent gold eyes startled. Then a shy smile curved her full lower lip. “What do you hope I will do?” she whispered.

“This.” Making no attempt to disguise his desire, Cort took her mouth in a blatantly sexual kiss. Hungry, possessive, his lips flowed over Lexi’s, demanding a response. But there was no need to demand. She yielded with exquisite sweetness, melding her generous mouth to his, seeking his liquid heat with every bit as much urgency as he did hers.

Her slender hands kneaded his shoulders, feathered up his neck, thrust into his long hair, stripping away the leather thong that confined it. Loose strands teased his jaw, his cheekbones, drifted and held at the edges of their heated mouths.

Did she sense, he wondered, all that he offered, all that he was? Power. Control. Tenderness. Danger.

Reality receded. He knew nothing but the honeyed-almond mouth, the rose and woodland perfume of her incredible hair. Well and truly lost. And glorying in every decadent moment.

Drawing her into the cradle of his now-spread thighs, his fate was sealed when she rotated her slender hips against the dire ache between his legs. Leaning into her lush, welcoming body, he slid his hand beneath her hair and turned his wrist to wrap its wealth around his forearm. His tongue plunged and retreated in desperate imitation of what he yearned to do to her body. What he would do if he didn’t—

“Stop!”

**~~**

About the Author:

Diane O’Key can’t ever remember not reading—or writing, for that matter. By the end of eighth grade, she’d written numerous poems and short stories and won an award for having read over 500 books grades 1 through 8. Her lifelong love of storytelling, classical literature, and history—inspired by incredible and demanding teachers—propelled her into a 22-year secondary language arts teaching career, in which her students and colleagues immeasurably enriched her life…though one of her great points of pride—and greatest fears—is that they remember her as OCD about grammar, spelling, and syntax….

Raised on the Jersey Shore, she discovered a deep love of theater (for which she won several awards) and gymnastics in high school. Aided by scholarships and loans, she worked her way through Georgian Court University, and upon graduation with honors and 42 English literature credits, taught high school in Pt. Pleasant and Pt. Pleasant Beach.

Then, she and her high-school sweetheart, now husband, moved to Southwest Florida, where she continued to teach. Married for 40 years, she and her better-half, a retired firefighter, have one grown son, a talented airbrush artist, and divide their time between we-love-winters-in Florida (though they’re there—at least for now—most of the year) and their beloved South Carolina Upstate lake home as often as they can get away.

Her interests include making custom jewelry and bookmarks, snow skiing, baking, and anything to do with the water. A member of SW Florida Romance Writers and RWA for eighteen years, she has two wonderful, multi-published authors as critique partners: the self-dubbed Three Musketeers. Diane writes medieval historical romance, contemporary romance, and romantic suspense.

Writing as she does “in the mist,” without absolute direction or outlines, is both a challenge and a joy. She delights in those moments when the characters pop full-blown into her head, carrying on a conversation. As that pop is rarely the first chapter, however, the struggle begins to write from that point-first backward, then forward. Keeps her awake at night…and life interesting.

dianeokey.com

diane.okeyauthor@facebook.com

dianeokey.wordpress.com

dianeokey.blogspot.com

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TheWildRosePress

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/theWilderRoses

 

Welcome Vanessa Johnston

The Handmaiden’s Choice by Vanessa Johnston 

As the favorite handmaiden to Queen Magda, Raelene enjoys her status and the life she has. But now that The Great Contest had begun, she questions the laws of the country of Magdalith and the queen she serves after falling in love with one of the contestants––who loves her in return. Not only is this forbidden if anyone discovers their love, their lives, especially Raelene’s, will be in jeopardy. Meeting in secret, they plot their escape from the palace. But with few resources, where can they go? When a handsome envoy from an unknown kingdom appears at Court, Raelene wonders if she can prevail on this stranger for help. But will her attraction for him complicate things even more?

Adult Excerpt for The Handmaiden’s Choice (5 flames): 

“You shouldn’t say that. It’s forbidden.”

But forbidden or not, Clarid put his arm around her and drew her close. So close Raelene could feel his heart beat against her breasts. He put his hands on her buttocks. He kissed her mouth and then her naked breasts as he pressed his penis against her body. She felt hot between her legs. “I want to couple with you,” she said.

“I am special to you, aren’t I?” he said.

“Yes. But it must be our secret. There is a corridor beyond. Follow me.” She took his hand and led him down another hallway, this more dimly lit than the one they had just come from.

Clarid lost no time. He scooped her into his arms. With her back to the wall, he pressed his penis against her. “Your body is a perfect fit for me. Your breasts tantalize me.”

Raelene grabbed his buttocks and squeezed it. “Oh, you feel so good,” she said, spreading her legs against his. “But wait,” she cried. She stepped away from him and put her mouth on his penis. She licked and sucked on the tip of it, for the rest of it was too large to fit inside her mouth.

“Oh! I’m so glad you’re sucking on me,” he moaned.

She looked up at him and smiled. “I had to do that. I couldn’t wait anymore.” She gave his penis another kiss. Then holding on to his shoulders, she lifted herself up and straddled her legs around his torso. “Oh, enter me,” she whispered. “Now, before someone comes.”

He pulled apart her loincloth and put his penis inside her vagina slowly. “Am I too big?” he whispered.

“No. You’re wonderful. Oh, push into me.”

And he did, his gigantic penis thrusting deep inside her, making her vagina tremble with delight. “Oh, never stop,” she cried. Her body shook until it became one giant orgasm of pleasure. The world as she knew it ceased to exist. She experienced only this amazing convergence of their bodies.

Clarid grinded and pounded his penis into her, while his mouth sucked on her nipples as he moved faster and faster inside her––until he burst. Raelene felt her lust turn into joy. This was not just coupling. This was magic.

With no cushions to lie on, they clung to each other. They didn’t move for some time. Clarid’s penis stayed inside her vagina, her legs still straddled his torso. Finally, Raelene realized quite a bit of time had passed. “I think we better separate our bodies, or we’ll soon be discovered.” She kissed Clarid’s ear as she slipped her legs down to the floor. They rearranged their loincloths to cover themselves. “We have to act as if nothing has happened,” she said.

“Yes, though I hope we can make what hasn’t happened, happen again––soon.”

Raelene smiled. “You’re clever…and a delight. And I wish it could happen again, now. Just the sound of your voice makes my vagina ache with longing.”

He put his hand inside her loincloth and squeezed her vulva. “I wish it too. See…I’m stiff again.” He pulled out his penis.

Raelene stroked it and massaged his testicles. “It’s so hard, but we have to wait––have to get to the dormitory. Oh, how I ache for you.”

“Please. I can’t wait. I have to put my penis inside you now.”

“Hurry, then!”

He pressed her against the wall and opened the lips of her vagina with his hands. She grabbed his penis and put it inside her there. How good it felt to have him thrust himself inside her again.      “Your penis is so exquisite. Oh, move it faster. Oh.”

Her body shook with chills and then with fever. She caressed his buttocks. She bit his neck. And still the pleasure from his penis amazed her as it had the first time. He began to move his penis in a circular motion. She moaned with ecstasy, her vagina pulsating with sensations not even imagined before. And when he ejaculated, it felt as if the sky opened up and swallowed her.

But footsteps––

Quickly, they disengaged, with hardly time to catch their breath. Raelene saw a man wander into the corridor. He didn’t look like a contestant or a servant. He wore a shirt made of gold threads––she could see it gleaming under the light from the torch. His hair––the strangest thing about him––grew all over his head. He didn’t have his head shaved.

Raelene pressed herself against the wall, covering her breasts. Clarid turned toward the wall too. The man didn’t see them hiding in the shadows. He went down another corridor, his footsteps receding until they couldn’t hear them anymore.

“I wonder who that was,” Raelene whispered. “We took too much of a chance. But such an amazing chance.”

Clarid nodded. “I would risk everything for another chance like that.”

Buy links:

Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BEMDM0S

Barnes&Noble:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/the-handmaiden-s-choice?store=ebook&keyword=the+handmaiden%27s+choice

All Romance Ebooks:  https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thehandmaiden039schoice-1057426-146.html

Secret Cravings: http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&cPath=14&products_id=520&zenid=b5c82a57949fbde6b5b79df5b5ab9022

About the Author:

Vanessa Johnston is an actress who lives in California. When not writing or acting, she paints abstracts and enjoys nature walks.

Other Erotic Romance Books by Vanessa Johnston,

from Secret Cravings Publishing are:

A Special Night and Dangerous Interlude

Follow Vanessa Johnston at

http://vanessajohnstonwrites.blogspot.com also Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Vanessa.Johnston.writer Twitter: v_johnston_xx

 

Welcome Sherry Gloag and a contest today

What is it about the Regency period that woos readers who would not normally pick up a historical story?

Is it the characters’ costumes, perhaps? Or is it the settings? Or, maybe, it is the mores of the time. The structure and order which, while generally adhered to, authors like to stretch?

Until recently, I never even considered Regency novels as coming under the ‘historical umbrella.’ I always considered it as a genre of its own.

I grew up reading Georgette Heyer, who offered light-hearted romantic comedy within the Regency period at one end of the scale, to detailed historical stories set within true life events on Peninsula battle fields.

Georgette Heyer compiled the biggest and most comprehensive research library about every aspect of the Regency period, the wars of the time and all those details that made her stories come alive, and all of which was amassed before the age and convenience of the web. I often wonder how long it took her to research all the aspects she wanted to use for each book.

For Vidal’s Honor, I had the massive advantage of accessing the huge compilation of web and book information when I needed to discover the true details of certain events.

And without that, how could I possible come across a wonderful contact for expert detail about Regency carriages and their designs.  And without that contact, I would never have realised that the English designs of coaches were months, and on occasions, years ahead of many of the French vehicles, and that the English used glass in their carriage windows at a time when the French used leather blinds.

I found that little snippet of information so fascinating I had to include it into Vidal and Honor’s race across France to reach the security of England.

While it is nothing more than a passing mention in the story, and the culmination of a delightful conversation during one afternoon with John Parker of Swingletree nr. Diss Norfolk, UK. (http://www.swingletree.co.uk/carriages(1).htm)

I used that snippet of information, to create a more vivid image of the differences of the carriage construction in the two countries—>

In the ensuing silence Honor became aware of the changed sound of their carriage wheels on the road.

“To be sure, I am surprised that this vehicle is so much quieter than le duc’s.”

“We have muffled the wheels to give us a better chance of leaving without detection.” Vidal let the shutter down and looked behind them.

“These wretched shutters are excellent for concealing your passenger’s identity, but I do wish the French would catch up with English designs and replace this leather with glass windows. So far we seem to be on our own. Let us hope it may continue.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

GIVEAWAY

 What do you look for in a Regency romance?  And who is your favourite Regency character?

 A pdf copy of Vidal’s Honor will be gifted to one randomly chosen commenter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vidal’s Honor by Sherry Gloag

Tagline:

Which will Honor lose first? Her head or her heart?

Blurb:

When plunged into a world of spies, agents and espionage during the Peninsula wars, Honor, Lady Beaumont, flees for her life when the French capture her husband at Salamanca, and relies on his batman to arrange her safe passage back to England.

Viscount Charles Vidal is ordered by Robert Dumas, the First Lord of the Admiralty, to travel to Spain and escort the only woman he’s ever loved, Lord Devlin Beaumont’s widow back home before the French discover her whereabouts.

Their journey is fraught by danger, least of all knowing whether they are surrounded by friends or foe. Will they survive long enough to explore the possibility of a future together or will whispers of treason be enough to see Honor dispatched to Tyburn first?

Excerpt:

While Vidal joked with his cousin, the viscount scanned the room. The smell of fine wine, whiskey and cigar smoke blended into a rich aroma that was as much a part of Whites as the card games, the background chatter, and outbreaks of lewd laughter from the younger members of the club.
One member in particular interested Vidal tonight, and he watched Robert Dundas, second Viscount Melville, and First Lord of the Admiralty, take leave of his friends and head in his direction.

He wondered why the man spent the best part of the night watching his every move, and paused in the act of fobbing his snuff box while he waited for the viscount to join him.

“Take a walk with me?” Although couched as a question, Vidal noted the quiet steel of command in the other man’s voice. Dundas laid a hand on his arm; a companionable gesture for anyone interested enough to observe the two men leaving the club together. “I believe I live not far beyond your own house. I’d appreciate your company, and this is not the place for such a discussion. ”

With an indolent twist of the wrist Vidal returned the modish lacquered box, unopened, to his pocket and nodded agreement. A man’s club was no setting for private conversation, and it was plain the man wanted to talk about something away from flapping ears.

Together they strolled across the room stopping to take leave of several mutual friends.

 Amazon.com  http://tinyurl.com/bpu7o75

Amazon.co.uk  http://tinyurl.com/cgonnnk

smashworlds  http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/250882

B&N http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/vidals-honor/1113726614?ean=2940015900422

Book Strand  http://www.bookstrand.com/vidals-honor

Kobo  http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Vidals-Honor/book-pGNWcYHNukSsEwGrXE4TnA/page1.html?s=_AyuW9PrgUe6i8iafiHdSw&r=9

All Romance https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-vidal039shonor-987501-152.html

Duty Calls

Kobo http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Duty-Calls/book-xKbd85N-i0GAyS_3boUQRQ/page1.html?s=6QB2_jmGp0C8JZqlrsuqVQ&r=4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About the Author:

Multi-published author, Sherry Gloag is a transplanted Scot now living in the beautiful coastal countryside of Norfolk, England.  She considers the surrounding countryside as extension of her own garden, to which she escapes when she needs “thinking time” and solitude to work out the plots for her next novel.  While out walking she enjoys talking to her characters, as long as there are no other walkers close by.

Apart from writing, Sherry enjoys gardening, walking, reading and cheerfully admits her books tend to take over most of the shelf and floor space in her workroom-cum-office.  She also finds crystal craft work therapeutic.

Book Spotlight for Dawne Prochilo’s Cody’s Promise

Cody’s Promise by Dawne Prochilo

The Butlers of Willow Creek Series, Book 1

Secret Cravings Publishing

Link- http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=products_all&filter_author=48

Book blurb-

Butler’s of Willow Creek- Cody’s Promise Book One

Oldest Butler sibling, Cody, has his eye on newcomer, and saloon gal, Lydia Parsons. She is an innocent duped into a world of an unpleasant profession and he knows he needs to rescue her. It isn’t until after he saves her that he realized she is harboring a secret; one that will make for a ready made family.

 Excerpt-

Never a day passed that Lydia didn’t think of Charlie. She even started asking the other saloon girls of his whereabouts, to no avail, none of the girls had seen or heard about him.

Before Lydia knew it her two-step entertaining days were over, replaced by travels upstairs with her dancing partners. The first time was frightening and horrid. She remembered the man’s stench from weeks and weeks on the range without a bath, the way his overgrown facial hair burned into her tender flesh and the way his foul mouth tasted against her lips. As soon as he hoisted his buckskins back over his hips, Lydia raced from her bedroom down the back stairs of the saloon and heaved the contents of her stomach into the deserted alley. The images of the past hour had revolted her, making her skin crawl in disgust.

Later in the early hours of morning, after all the other girls and Madame Love had retired for the day, Lydia slipped downstairs to the kitchen and hauled out the washtub. After warming water on the cook stove, she cleansed her body. Her damaged soul could never be mended.

From that day forward, Lydia closed her mind off every time she entertained a man in her room. With each thrust from the man into her body, Lydia forced her mind and body to a deep place within her soul; burying all sound, motion and every degrading word.

The way the men grunted while savagely humiliating her body could never be removed from her mind, but Lydia always held onto the promise of leaving Willow Creek. She mentally counted the days until the next stagecoach arrived. If allowed to leave the saloon, she would have visited the stationkeeper daily to confirm the date of arrival of that stagecoach but since that was forbidden, Lydia relied on her memory. But those memories didn’t help her present situation.

When Cody reached her, he took her hand in his, and, without words, he led her to the staircase leading up to the girls’ rooms. In mutual silence they ascended the steps, Cody never releasing her hand. Lydia could sense his protective ways through their touch. It made her feel at ease knowing he would be with her tonight, even if for only a few hours. No other customers were allowed to spend the night or stay with one girl for the entire evening, but Madame Love made an exception for Cody when he came to visit Lydia, so as to not upset Bertrand.

Despite Lydia’s profession, just having Cody near her made her blush like an innocent child. Internally she giggled and her stomach fluttered with expectations of what would happen once they were behind closed doors.

Links:

Facebook- http://www.facebook.com/dawneprochilo

Twitter- @goldendawne1

Blog- http://dawneprochilo.blogspot.com/

Secrret Cravings Buy Link- http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=products_all&filter_author=48