THE HEARTBROKEN COWBOY by Melissa Keir

Saddle Up with the best-selling authors who brought you Cowboy Up... And fall for Six more Cowboys ready to steal your heart!

COWBOY UP 2

The Heartbroken Cowboy by Melissa Keir
Love isn’t found at the bottom of a bottle…


Johnson O’Neill joined The Heartsong Ranch to escape his addiction. One night at a friend’s wedding, stress causes him to fall off the wagon and into the arms of the woman of his dreams.

Debra Donahue lost her husband to alcohol then pulled herself up by her bootstraps becoming a million-dollar selling real estate agent. One night with a sexy cowboy and a bottle of whiskey, Debra falls hard.

Can an alcoholic cowboy and a brokenhearted woman find love despite their fears? Or will the bottom of a bottle claim another happily ever after?

Other stories include:

Good Ride, Cowboy by Allison Merritt
Sometimes all you need is one good ride to clear your head.

Cowboy in Waiting by Leslie P. Garcia
She’d buried a hero. She wasn’t looking for another. But her cowboy in waiting was far from a hero…

Cowboy in Trouble by Autumn Piper
A cowboy on the run and a girl on the rebound make for a messy fling.

A Cowboy’s Heaven by Sara Walter Ellwood
From the hell of lost love, can they find heaven together?

Cowboy Proud by D’Ann Lindun
She left town to chase her dreams... He stayed and ignored his... Can they find their dreams together?

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EXCERPT:

“I don’t drink, but could use a strong one, right now. Not this sissy stuff.” He lifted the glass to his lips, downed the contents, and shoved his now-empty champagne flute away before he leaned in toward her. The smell of alcohol on his breath hinted that he’d already had too much to drink. “Know anyone around here with some whiskey?” The dark sapphire of his eyes chilled her. This was a man used to getting what he wanted. “I’d even share.” His voice deepened and became husky with his offer and she shivered.

“I don’t drink with men I don’t know.” Debra stuck out her hand. “I’m Debra, and you are?”

The man grabbed another glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and guzzled the drink in one swallow. “The name’s Johnson O’Neill. Now about that whiskey.” He reached out and drew her up to standing then tugged her in close to him. Wrapping his arm around her back, he moved her body in a slow two-step motion.

Debra gazed into his eyes. “You don’t have to seduce me for the whiskey.” She stepped out of his embrace and put her hands on her hips. She frowned.

“That’s not why I drew you into my arms. You were tapping your foot when I arrived—and I thought you might like a dance. A pretty woman like you shouldn’t be sitting alone.” He stretched his palm out again in a plea.

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RUNAWAY COWGIRL by Cheryl Dragon

RUNAWAY COWGIRL by Cheryl Dragon

Emily isn’t about to marry just any man, but falling in love with two hot ranchers might be more than this respectable young lady can handle.

Emily St. Claire is wealthy, beautiful, young and very eligible to the single men of Manitou Springs, Colorado. The Wild West isn’t safe for a woman alone, but she isn’t about to marry for anything but love. Her charitable efforts put her in touch with all manner of people, and while she’s respectable, she causes gossip around the small town as she tries to help prostitutes and orphans. Still, she does want a family of her own.

Two handsome young men catch Emily’s eye, but Jack and Henry are so close. How can she pick one of them without destroying their friendship and their partnership? When she finds them in a compromising position, she’s shocked and intrigued. Emily never considered herself conventional, but the men open her eyes even more to how inclusive and varied love can be. Society would never approve, yet it doesn’t feel wrong for the trio. Being courted by two men at once is wild, but committing herself to them is pure madness and pure ecstasy as well. They must keep their ménage secret until they’re sure how to plan a future together so no one will suspect or discover the truth. 1878 isn’t ready for what they have to offer.

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Excerpt:

Copyright © Cheryl Dragon 2014. All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Totally Bound Publishing.

Manitou Springs, Colorado, USA—1878



When the Reverend Young finally dismissed the congregation from Sunday service, Emily St. Claire breathed a sigh of relief. She kept her composure and exited the small wooden church painted white. Smiling at the ladies, Emily appreciated the sympathetic nods.

“We’re all so very sorry about your father, Miss St. Claire. But we’re very glad you’re back,” said Mr Young.

“Thank you. Lovely sermon today.” Emily felt the eyes of the town on her as she waited for her companion Alice Lange, to finish a conversation.

The young widow had been selected by Emily’s father as a companion to his single daughter when he fell ill. It worked out perfectly until Mr St. Claire died and Emily was compelled to spend the mourning period with her sister and brother-in-law in Denver.

Sheriff Drake tipped his hat. “I’m sure being back here is dull compared to life in Denver. Do you intend on moving there to be with your sister? I can deputise some men to secure your belongings and escort you and Mrs Lange.”

“Thank you, but I won’t be moving. My father loved Manitou. He struck his silver and copper near here and built that lovely home for me.” She’d been putting out rumors of her leaving since the day she returned.

Alice walked up to Emily, and it was a relief. The pair headed for Emily’s home not far from the church on the same end of town. The lovely spring day made the exercise delightful but as men fell into step behind the pair, she wished they’d brought the wagon.

“What could they want? The men were staring at me all through church,” she whispered to Alice.

Alice glanced back casually and cleared her throat. “The mercantile owner, the sheriff, the reverend plus a few other single, respectable men are all following us.”

“This is ridiculous.” Emily walked faster, but avoided breaking into a run.

“Your new wardrobe is the envy of every woman in town. The trimmer silhouette and subtle bustle is most becoming.” Alice dabbed a handkerchief over her brow.

“Men don’t care about fashion. They’ve not lowered the necklines.” Emily toyed with the slightly belled cuff at her elbow. The lavender gown was new from her Denver days. She owned a great deal of black, but had put a portion of her substantial inheritance into a new wardrobe and some bolts of fabric for future replacement pieces. The newer fashions were more comfortable. More practical jackets complimented the layered skirts with a slight bustle. It was much better than the hoop skirts of her youth.

“You’re a lovely young woman who is staying in Manitou,” Alice said.

The demure choker around Emily’s throat felt a bit tighter. “They can’t be serious.”

“Some of those men aren’t in town except for church and supplies. They won’t have much opportunity but to call today. Not all are objectionable,” Alice said.

The women ascended the porch steps. Her home was the grandest in Manitou with etched glass and no expense spared. The housekeeper opened the door for them.

“Hello, Sarah.” Emily stepped a foot inside and saw the old woman warily eyeing the men out front.

“You’ve got callers, Miss St. Claire.” Sarah nodded.

Emily turned and plastered a ladylike smile on her face. “Gentlemen, what can I do for you?”

“Miss St. Claire, your intention to stay is a blessing to the town,” said Young.

“Thank you.” She knew her charitable efforts could be considered excessive, but it was useful, and she employed some individuals, of course. She also shopped liberally.

“However, you must take certain factors into account. For your reputation,” the sheriff added.

“My reputation? Mrs Lange is my constant companion. You doubt her respectability?” Emily asked curtly.

Young held up a hand. “No one doubts anyone’s honour or respectability. However, a single woman alone is a danger. In a big city where they have women’s boarding houses or in Denver with your sister, that’s a different situation. Out west in a town like this, with so many single men, and helping—”

“Orphans and fallen women need help too. I don’t need your permission to be charitable with my money.” Emily’s headstrong antics often gave her father fits, but staying in a big city like Denver had proven she wasn’t a fool. Growing up with a dreamer for a father, she watched him rise to a man of status because of his mines. The world had changed its view of him. So change was possible and rules were meant to be broken.

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BARE NAKED by Desiree Holt

BARE NAKED by Desiree Holt

She’s burned out and he’s down and out, but together they might light up the night.

Naked Cowboys, Book 4

Georgie Zielinski’s success in the hospitality industry comes to an abrupt end when her new boss says she needs to put out or get out. So Georgie gets out, investing her savings and 401k in a dilapidated B&B in Saddle Wells, Texas. Hiring help isn’t high on her to-do list, but when a rough-around-the-edges cowboy offers his handyman services, she listens to her gut and takes him on.

Cade Hannigan would eat humble pie all day if he could afford it. The silver spoon he was born with is tarnished and he’s down to the clothes on his back, a beat-up truck and a reputation so bad no one in three counties will hire him. Except a newcomer like Georgie.

As they work to bring the old B&B back to life, Georgie and Cade’s connection explodes into a wild ride of passion. But when Cade’s past comes back to slap him in the face, their chance to be together starts to disappear like smoke.

Warning: Contains a bad boy hammering out a new future, a good girl not afraid to get a little dirty—okay a lot dirty—and and a whole new definition for “sweat equity”.

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~Excerpt~

Calm down, Georgie. You’re not eighteen anymore. Get your damn hormones under control.

But it was certainly hard whenever she caught a glimpse of Cade working outside. Despite the spring chill in the air, he certainly worked up a sweat with the hard labor he was doing. And watching him distracted her more than she liked.

The old barn offered up some ancient equipment. He’d spent the first couple of days or so getting what he could in working order. Then he’d tackled the mess that was the yard.

“Too many critters can hide in this,” he’d told her. “It will take a lot more than a few days to get the look you want, but at least I can clear it out and neaten it up. Anyway, I need to have room to hike a ladder up and start scraping the paint,” he’d added. “If I fall off, at least I won’t have a million stickers in my skin.”

In two weeks, he had made a serious dent in the mess, and in fact was almost finished. Or at least as much as he could do for the moment. This morning, when he’d knocked on her back door, he’d told her he expected to start scraping paint in another day or two.

He had kept his distance, she’d give him that. She assumed he’d made the barn apartment as habitable as possible. He didn’t offer details and she didn’t ask. Their contact was mostly limited to filling his thermos in the morning, an amenity she’d offered, and a tap on the door when he was finished for the day.

Georgie had finished working in the dining room and moved on to the living room. The old wallpaper clung tighter than she’d expected, but now she had almost every wall clear. Maybe it wouldn’t take so long if she didn’t keep looking out the window. But the view was too good to pass up.

Cade Hannigan might be a lot of things, but out of shape wasn’t one of them. Beneath the black T-shirt and faded jeans, his muscles flexed and bulged as he worked away. Every so often, he stopped to blot the sweat on his forehead with his arm. When he did, she got a sunlit look at the deep grooves and lines in his face. The square line of his jaw.

The bulge behind his fly.

Stop it, Georgie!

She couldn’t help amusing herself by imagining what he looked like without any of those clothes on. Dark hair on his chest, maybe a little darker than the thick brown that framed his face. Lean hips. Long legs.

Why did I hire him, anyway?

Because now he’s an outsider, just like you.

That’s no excuse.

No, it certainly wasn’t.

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TERMS OF RELEASE by BA Tortuga

THE TERMS OF RELEASE by BA Tortuga

They say a man can always come home. So after doing hard time, Sage Redding heads to his family’s northeast Texas ranch to help his ailing daddy with the cutting horses. 

Adam (Win) Winchester is a county deputy and the cousin of one of the men killed in the incident that sent Sage to prison for almost a decade. While Win's uncles, Jim and Teddy, are determined to make Sage and the entire Redding family pay for their loss, Win just figures Sage has paid his dues and maybe needs a friend. Maybe he needs more than a friend. In fact, Win’s counting on it.

No one’s denying Sage is an ex-con who went to prison for manslaughter. Regardless of the love he has for his father, he’s returned knowing things will likely go badly for him. Maybe a man can always come home, but he may not be able to stay.

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Chapter One

“SON, I need to talk to you.”

Sage sighed but kept it soft enough that no one could possibly hear. Momma didn’t call often—once a week—and she talked to him for exactly fifteen minutes. Hell, he wasn’t sure if the calls were habit for him or for her, but it was what it was, and it kept the costs on his pay-as-you-go phone low. If she called on a Saturday morning, when she knew he’d been working on the docks all night, it had to be important.

“Sure, Momma. What you need?”

He leaned back on his bed, looking out the little window. His eyes followed the hairline crack that climbed through the glass. Some days he thought maybe that weird, crookedy little line wanted to be a word or something. A picture. Not today. Today it was only a place for a tiny spider to climb. God, he was tired. The trucks had been filled with hundreds of small heavy boxes, and his muscles were screaming for rest. Not sleep, not yet. That wouldn’t come ’til eleven or so. It wasn’t like he came home and crashed once his feet found their way back through the mess in the streets and the little pockets of nighttime assholes on the corners, waiting for the bolder daytime assholes to spell them. This was his primetime, after all. He had a cup of coffee and a Louis L’Amour book he hadn’t read, which he’d found in a dumpster on his way to work a couple of days ago. It was all good.

“Are you listening to me, Sage Marlowe Redding?”

“What? Sorry, Momma. I must’ve dozed some. Long night. Say again?”

“I need you to come home.”

He sat up and frowned, his heart doing that sickening little hiccup and roll that meant something shitty was going down. “What happened?”

“Well, nothing that you’d think was an emergency, really. Your daddy, though, his hands…. He can’t work the horses as much.”

Sage closed his eyes. Fucking Parkinson’s. Daddy’d been fighting it for damn near eight years, but it was a losing battle. “Momma, I….”

“Son, that Teddy Dale, he’s going to take the land. You know he will. He’s waiting. I need you to cowboy up and come on. Now.”

“Teddy Dale’s the reason I ain’t come home, Momma. That man hates the sound of my name.” Not that Sage blamed the crusty old bastard. Angelo, the man’s only son and the apple of his momma’s eye, had died in Sage’s company ten years ago. Leastways that was the story and what was taken as God’s honest truth.

Ten years, ten months, fifteen days and… fourteen and a half hours ago.

“Well, we need to be able to train these horses. Your daddy has a contract. If he can fill it on time, we can pay for six months of bills. Sister’s took pregnant on me, Son. Her and that ass hat she’s married to caught like a pair of hounds.”

“I don’t even have a car, Momma, and I sure don’t have the cash to bus it right now. I get paid in two weeks.” A baby? Rosie? Christ, when had he gotten old? He looked at the calendar. “I can get on a Greyhound then, if I clear it with my parole officer.”

They had rules for men like him, and he followed them because he wasn’t going back in.

He couldn’t.

“I can wire you the money.” She sighed, lowering her voice. “It would kill your daddy to lose this place.”

“I know. I’ll come. I have to make arrangements, Momma. You know that.”

“I know that you paid your debt to society already, baby, for something that shouldn’t have all been on your shoulders.”

“I paid my stupid tax, for sure.” He smiled a little. “Let me see what my parole officer says, and I’ll call.”

“Okay. They… they’ll let you come home, right?”

“I’ll have to go in front of a judge. You know that.” It sucked, but it was what it was.

“I know, Son. Maybe you’ll get Judge Shannon. He’s not in anyone’s pocket, leastways in my memory.”

“Maybe. You’ll need to send me doctor’s information so I can start everything.”

“I can send it overnight unless you have one of those Kinko’s places. I can fax there.”

“I’ll have to call you, Momma. I don’t know. There should be a phone book down in the management office.”

“Okay. I-I’m sorry, Son.” He could hear the tears, right there in her throat. He hated for his momma to cry.

“Shit, what for? You didn’t make me a fuck-up, you didn’t make Daddy sick, and you didn’t make Rosemary decide to have children that her crazy fuck of a husband can’t feed. Seems to me like we should be apologizing to you.”

She sniffled, but the chuckle was just as strong now.

“I’ll call you with the Kinko’s number. Later. I got to work all weekend, but I’ll get in to see Jack on Monday.” If he could.

“Thanks, baby. I’m sorry. I know it’s borrowing more trouble for you, but I need your help.”

“I got your back, Momma. I won’t let you down.” The again was there, unsaid and implied.

“I love you, Son.”

“I love you, Momma. Talk to you later on.” He hung up and sat there, his head pounding, feeling swole as a rotting melon. Much as he hated California, he hated the thought of begging some Texas judge to let him come home even more.

God, what a mess.

“Damn you, Angel. You and me, we fucked everything up, and you had to up and die and get out of everything.”

Angel never answered back, which was good, since the man was dead. Would make it awkward if he hung around.

Sage chuckled, rubbed his forehead, and set his alarm. He’d get a couple of hours of sleep, then get to work.

He had a feeling he was fixin’ to have a lot to do.

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MASTER MARSHAL by Gray Dixon

MASTER MARSHAL by Gray Dixon

Book 4, Masters of Tabu

A cowboy and a supermodel ignite unbridled passion in the Texas heat.

Shane Marshal struggles to keep his family’s cattle ranch above financial flood waters. With help from friends, he turns the homestead into a BDSM retreat. He can’t keep his mind on business when a single woman from New York with legs to infinity arrives. To tamp down his lustful thoughts, he goes out of his way to give her grief, but she doesn’t flinch. He needs a new strategy.

Valentina Halston, a high fashion model, changed her name from Sharon Berger to hide her past. After finding her boyfriend in delicato with another model, she books a vacation at a dude ranch with BDSM activities in search of change. Rest and relaxation, fresh air, no phones, no paparazzi, and no cheating boyfriend sounded perfect. Instead, she finds more than she could imagine.

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EXCERPT:

He locked onto the area at the end of the aisle, the direction she’d last been seen. Her stubbornness or should he say lack of concern for others’ schedules was rude, disrespectful, and he had a mind to go drag her ass out of the washroom and teach her a lesson.

“You noticed too?”

“Yeah, them city folks. Gotta watch them to keep ‘em outta trouble.”

“Yeah.” Shane blindly stroked Lucky’s mane, staring at the end of the aisle. “I don’t know what her problem is.”

“Her, huh? Take it she didn’t read the fine print.”

“What?” Shane glanced over his shoulder at Jake. Where had his mind wandered? “No, I don’t think she did.”

“With her looks, she’s probably used to having men take care of her. She’s an easy fix. The others are another story. The men outside are acting all macho, and their ladies are giggling little girls, petting the horses like they’re puppy dogs. Ya sure you don’t want me to come along and help, ‘cuz I can tell you’ll have yer hands full with them.”

“Naw, I’m good. If I take anyone, I’ll snatch Ty to come along. I’d rather you stay here and keep an eye on Luck.”

Jake tossed his hat on the hook by the door and ran a hand through gray hair sweat plastered to his head, loosening the normally wild mop. “I really don’t mind, Shane. I’ve gone on the rides with the guests other times. I know which trails to take. Ty’s a good kid, ‘cepten he might get a little too flirty with them pretty girls and get in some trouble, ‘specially the real tall one. She’s a looker. I saw him eyeing her last night.”

Shane’s gut clenched. Ty moving in on Sharon didn’t sit well with him. “I’ll have a talk with him.”

The suspicion on his manager’s face said he didn’t quite buy the half-ass detour for an explanation. Shane knew the familiar look on the old man’s face. He swore Jake could read his mind and knew more was behind him warning Ty off than policy.

“I get yer reasoning with the no associatin’ rule. Somethin’ tells me ya’ve taken a likin’ to her too. Am I right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s my policy, and I expect everyone to abide by the rules.”

“Lord a mighty, boy. I’d say ya’ve got it bad.” Jake patted Shane on his shoulder. “I knew it. Ya like the pretty girl who could step outta one of them New York City fashion magazines.”

How did the old cuss know anything about fashion magazines? The man lived and breathed cattle and the ranch since his wife died ten years ago. “I don’t have it bad. The only problem I have is she’s messing with my employees and with my schedule. I don’t want trouble. Golden Springs means everything to me.”

Jake leaned against the post of the stall door. “Ya don’t fool me, Shane Marshal. These old eyes of mine aren’t as strong as they used to be, but I ain’t blind to the looks passing between ya two since she got out of the van yesterday. My hearin’ is dang good too. Ya also were mumbling about missin’ supper last night to be out here with Lucky instead of gettin’ to know her. Talk to me, boy. What’s going on in yer head?”

“Nothing.” Shane scrubbed his face with both hands. Shit. Jake called him “boy” and had since he’d been a toddler. He also never put up with his crap, or “nonsense”. Jake managed to run the ranch for him and helped him out when his family died. The old man was his friend and family more than Golden Springs’ manager. When Jake called him by his name and not boy, he was serious. Who was he kidding? He’d used Jake as a sounding board since his first girlfriend in grade school. He’d never been able to talk to his father. Why should now be any different? Shane had to end this conversation and get the trail ride on the road, so to speak, not bear his soul to his old friend.

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TO TAME A COWBOY by Jules Bennett

TO TAME A COWBOY by Jules Bennett


A Texas Cattleman's Club tale of best friends falling in love ...

Royal, Texas, is the perfect place for rodeo star Ryan Grant to slow down and finally show Piper Kindred she's the woman for him. When an accident sends Piper rushing to take care of him, her sexy bedside manner suggests to Ryan that seducing his best friend will be easier than he'd expected.

But Piper knows the lure of the rodeo circuit—and the risk of a broken heart, when Ryan realizes he's not ready to hang up his saddle for good. She can't let herself fall for a cowboy. If only her heart would listen!

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~Excerpt~

To Tame a Cowboy
by Jules Bennett

Piper Kindred did a double take at the black sports car. Her heart sank, bile rising in her throat. No, it couldn't be.

Oh, sweet mercy. There was no way this massive accident would have no casualties. Wreckage lay crushed with mangled pieces across the median, shattered glass scattered along the stretch of highway, a black BMW on its top and a large tractor-trailer on its side, blocking both lanes of traffic.

As a paramedic, Piper had seen plenty of wrecks, fatalities and gut-wrenching scenes, but nothing settled fear as deep within her as seeing the familiar car that was so often in her driveway…the car that belonged to her best friend, Ryan Grant.

The ambulance barely came to a stop before Piper grabbed her heavy red medical bag, hopped out and hit the ground running. The warm November sun beat down on her back as she ran toward the chilling scene.

The medic in her couldn't get to the victims fast enough. The woman in her feared what she'd uncover once she reached Ryan.

Once closer, she squatted in an attempt to see the inside of the vehicle. A wave of relief swept through her the second she realized the car was empty. Okay, so he wasn't trapped, but what was the extent of his injuries?

Sirens blared in near surround sound between the police, ambulances and a fire truck trying to assist the wounded and clean up the mess.

Piper tried to keep her eye out for Ryan, hoping she'd see him sitting in the back of an ambulance with just an ice pack on his head. But her duty was to assist where needed…not to seek out those most important in her life.

As she moved closer to the tractor-trailer, where the majority of the cops seemed to be congregated, she noticed numerous Hispanic people huddled together. With disheveled clothes, scraggly beards and various cuts and bruises, Piper couldn't help but wonder what they were all doing at the scene of an accident involving only one semi and the car of her best friend.

Piper ran to the group of obviously injured men and women. Some were crying, some had their heads dropped between their shoulders and some were shouting Spanish slang even she didn't understand because of the rapid rate, but she could tell they were angry and scared.

As Piper passed two uniformed police officers she heard the words illegal and FBI. Yeah, this was so much more than an ill-fated accident. By the number of uniformed officers scouring the area, it looked as though these people were not here legally.

Moments later she heard other officers discussing how so many stowaways were hidden in such a small compartment in the back of that semi. This situation was beyond what Piper was used to. Her job right now was to assess and treat the victims, not to worry about the legalities of this mess.

"Where do you need me?" she asked another paramedic who was examining a man's leg beneath his torn pants.

"The truck driver was pretty shaken," the paramedic told her. "He's sitting in the back of a squad car for questioning right now. No visible injuries, but his pupils were dilated and he did say his back was hurting. Seems he was driving this illegal group and he had no clue."

Piper nodded, gripped her bag tighter and headed toward the squad car closest to the overturned semi. Sure enough a trooper had his forearm resting on the roof of the car as he leaned in and listened to whatever the man seated in the back was saying.

"I swear I had no clue what was in the back of my truck. Please, you've got to believe me," the driver pleaded. "I was just trying to get into the other lane and that car came out of nowhere. I didn't see him at all."

According to the man's story, he was completely innocent. This was a mess of epic proportions and not something a few questions would solve. But all Piper needed to do was to assess the man to see if he needed to go to the hospital or if he could continue being questioned.

"Officer, may I please check him out?" Piper asked. "I understand he has back pain."

The officer stood to his full height and nodded, but didn't move too far away. Often medics and cops worked together. Being a first responder required teamwork and so far she'd never had an issue with any cop getting in the way of her treating a patient at the scene.

Piper leaned in and saw a middle-aged man with a protruding belly hanging over his faded jeans, a dirty, bushy blond mustache with matching beard and nicotine-stained fingers.

"Sir, my name is Piper and I'm an EMT. I was told your back is hurting. Can you stand?"

He nodded and slid out of the car as Piper backed up. When he came to his full height, he winced, grabbing his lower back—whether for show to get the officer's sympathy or because the pain was indeed real, she didn't know. Yet again, not her place to judge.

"If you'll come this way, we can set you in the back of an ambulance. You may want to go to the hospital just to make sure nothing else is wrong, but I can get your vitals over here."

"I appreciate that, ma'am."

As she led the man toward the nearest empty ambulance, her eyes scanned the crowd for Ryan. Had he already been taken to the E.R.? Were his injuries life-threatening? The unknowns were killing her.

She knew a life flight chopper hadn't been dispatched to the scene, so that was a mild comfort. Not only for the fact Ryan didn't need a medevac, but that none of the others involved in the accident did, either.

Another ambulance arrived on the scene as Piper assisted the truck driver into the back of a vacant one. When fresh paramedics hopped from their emergency vehicle and made their way toward the group of injured people, she jogged back over to assist.

But froze in her tracks as one head lifted and a familiar set of dark eyes met hers. He was amid a group of Mexicans, but this man… She knew this man.

Dear God. How could this… What the hell…?

"Alex?" she whispered to herself.

Piper took off at a dead run and stopped beside Alex Santiago. Her bag dropped at her feet as she held her breath.

Was she honest to God seeing the man who'd disappeared months ago without a trace? Could it truly be him?

The man glanced up at her, holding his hand over his eyes to block the glaring afternoon sun.

My God. It was him. The hair was a shaggy, unkempt mess and the scruff on his cheeks and chin indicated he hadn't shaved in a few days or even weeks. But this was Alex. The man who'd been missing from Royal, Texas, for months.

The man most people assumed had become a victim of foul play, maybe even at his best friend's hand. But here he was, living and breathing.

"Alex, what on earth are you doing here? Where have you been?" she asked, eyeing the knot on the side of his head.

He winced as she slid her fingertip over the swollen bump. "You must have me confused with someone else. My name isn't Alex."

Piper's hand stilled above his head as she leaned down to look him in the eyes. She was pretty sure she knew what her friend looked like. Just because she hadn't seen him in months didn't mean she was clueless.

She looked closer. Um…yeah, this was Alex. If he didn't think he was Alex, then he'd hit his head too hard in that crash. But at least he was alive.

"Your name is Alex Santiago," she told him, making sure to keep her eyes locked on to his, waiting for a spark of recognition from his end.

His brows drew together and he slowly shook his head. "I've never heard that name."

"Then what do people call you?" she asked, worry growing deeper with each passing moment.

Alex's eyes searched hers; he opened his mouth, closed it and sighed. "I don't…remember. That doesn't make sense. How could I not know my own name?"

"You have a good bump here on your head," she reminded him as her eyes traveled down to the wrist he cradled in his other hand. "Looks like you may have broken your wrist."

He glanced down and simply nodded. Piper worried shock may be setting in. Between the accident and the apparent memory loss, she had no doubt Alex was shaken.

"Let's get you to an ambulance and see what the doctors have to say once you get to the hospital," she said gently. "I'm sure you'll remember you're Alex Santiago in no time. I'm Piper Kindred and we've been friends for a while. Can you at least tell me how you got into that truck?"

Piper lifted her duffel bag, helped Alex to his feet and held an arm around his waist when he started to sway. "Easy," she told him. "No rush. We're only going to that ambulance a few feet away. Think you can make it or should I bring a gurney?"

"No, I'm okay."

She didn't quite believe him so she kept him leaning against her side as she led him to the waiting ambulance.

"Go ahead and lie down on that cot," she said as she assisted Alex into the back of the vehicle.

"Do you know where you are?"

His blank look added to the sickening feeling in her stomach.

"We ready to roll?"

Piper glanced at the other EMT on the scene. They might as well go without her because there was no way in hell she was leaving without at least seeing that Ryan was okay…and to tell him of miraculously discovering Alex.

"Go ahead and take him. He's got some memory loss so he doesn't know his name. Make sure the doctors are aware this is Alex Santiago and he's been missing for months. I'll go inform an officer because Alex was the subject of an ongoing investigation."

Turning her attention back to Alex, Piper offered a warm smile. "You're in good hands now, Alex. I know you're confused, but I'll be at the hospital as soon as I can to check on you."

Continuing to hold on to his wrist, Alex leaned back on the gurney. Piper closed the doors and tapped the back to inform the driver he was good to go.

With several paramedics now on the scene, Piper felt comfortable going in search of Ryan.

After searching frantically, running through the chaos, she found him next to the road on the other side of the overturned semi. Her knees weakened with relief at the sight of Ryan whole and upright. He was a good bit from his car, so she had to assume the officer had taken him aside to get his statement.

But glancing at Ryan and actually talking to him were two different things. He looked fine, but looks, as she'd discovered numerous times over the years, could be deceiving. Internal injuries were nothing to mess around with and could prove fatal even when a patient looked perfectly fine.

Added to needing to know the extent of his injuries, she had to tell him about the mind-blowing discovery she'd just made.

Alex Santiago was alive. Their friend who had been missing for months was alive and on his way to Royal Memorial Hospital with an obvious broken wrist and some memory loss. But he was alive.

But, my God, what in the world had he been doing in the back of a semi-truck filled with illegal Mexicans? So many questions whirled around in her mind. She had no idea what the hell was going on, but she knew Alex was probably scared and confused.

As Piper moved closer, she noticed Ryan holding on to one of his sides. A trooper was jotting down notes and nodding as he took Ryan's statement. Piper closed the gap, but stayed a few feet away, waiting for him to finish.

The sight of him with a slight bruise over his right brow and his hair even messier than usual made Piper want to throw her arms around his broad, muscular body and squeeze him to death for scaring her. But he'd probably laugh at her if she got all misty-eyed or mushy right now.

She'd seen this cowboy compete on the rodeo circuit countless times. She'd seen him get knocked around, bucked and nearly trampled, but nothing had terrified her more than the sight of his totaled car.

The trooper stepped away and Piper inched closer on still shaky legs.

Ryan caught her eye and offered that crooked smile. "Hey, Red."

That smile could melt the panties off any woman, and it had according to rumor. But Ryan was her friend so her panties had stayed in place over the years. Though she wasn't blind—her bestie was the sexiest cowboy she'd ever laid eyes on.

With that dark, messy hair usually hidden by a black Stetson and heavy-lidded baby blues, yeah, Ryan Grant was one very fine-looking cowboy and he did some mighty nice things to a pair of well-worn jeans.

"You need to be seen," she informed him, raking her eyes over him to look for other visible injuries. "And I won't take no for an answer."

"I'm just sore and banged up a little, that's all." He reached out, grabbed one of her shaky hands and squeezed. "You look tense. I'm fine, Piper."

"You will be checked out because you'll want to come to the hospital anyway when I tell you who I saw."

Ryan shrugged, hissing and grabbing his side again.

"Who?"

Piper's eyes darted down to his ribs. "If they're not broken, they're bruised, so you'll be going straight to X-ray when you get there, big boy."

"Who did you see?" he insisted.

All joking aside, she leaned in and said, "Alex."

"Alex?" he repeated. "Alex Santiago?"

Piper nodded. "He was in the back of that semi."

"Piper…" He eyed her as though she was the one who'd hit her head. "Alex was in the truck?"

She merely nodded, crossing her arms and silently daring him to argue.

"How in the hell did he get there?" Ryan asked.

Piper nodded toward another ambulance and guided Ryan toward the open back. "He doesn't remember."

Ryan, still holding his side, put his foot on the back step. "He doesn't remember how he got into the semi?"

"He doesn't remember anything," she whispered. "He didn't even know his damn name was Alex when I was talking to him. He didn't recognize me and he was totally clueless."

"Damn it." Ryan glanced around at the group of Mexicans being tended to by EMTs and talked to by the cops. "He has amnesia?"

Piper shrugged. "I honestly don't know. He had a good-size knot on his head, but that could've happened from the accident. He's on his way in the squad I came with, so we'll catch a ride with another. Right now I think we both need to get to the hospital for multiple reasons."

"I don't need to get checked out, but I'll appease you only because I want to see Alex for myself."

Piper studied him, as if she could see beyond the surface and actually make an official diagnosis.

"You all right?" he asked. "You look a little pale."

Piper caught his worried gaze and smiled. "I'm fine. And if the doctors give you the go-ahead and release you, I'm going to kick your rear end for worrying me to death when I saw your overturned car."

Ryan's wide, signature smile spread across his face. "There's that Piper love. Come on. Let's get to the hospital."

"Oh, God, Ryan." She held a hand on his arm before he could step into the back of the ambulance. "What about Cara? Someone needs to call her."

Piper couldn't even imagine what Alex's fiancée, Cara Windsor, would think when she was told he was alive. Piper was stunned and thrilled, but she was worried about how extensive this memory loss was.

"Let's get the facts from the doctor first," Ryan suggested. "We can't have her running all in there in hysterics and shock. We need to prepare her for this and have concrete information."

Piper nodded. "I agree. Let's get to the hospital. And while you're getting checked out, I'll find out Alex's status."

"Red—"

She held up a hand. "The fact my heart rate is still out of control after not knowing if you were okay or not gives me the right to override anything you say. Now get your butt in and let's get to the hospital."

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THE BULL RIDER AND THE BABY by Jeanine McAdam

THE BULL RIDER AND THE BABY by Jeanine McAdam

The Skirts and the Spurs Trilogy #2

Sexy bull rider Caleb Cooper keeps falling off his bull and hitting his head. Smart neuroscience graduate student Carrie Wang is studying him. There’s just one problem, Carrie’s attracted to her broad-shouldered research subject. But she shouldn’t be, because Carrie is pregnant with Charles Winston’s baby. However, that one-night-stand occurred in a beaker closet and Charles wants nothing to do with her or the child....

Besides being handsome in a long-haired, scruffy sort-of-way, Caleb Cooper is kind and quirky. Carrie can’t stop touching him and their unprofessional attraction is mutual. Problems abound when Carrie’s traditional Chinese mother and Charles come to the rodeo. Carrie’s mother wants her to hook a  husband and Charles wants Carrie to give the baby up for adoption. Carrie knows she could never let a stranger raise her child. Can Carrie go against everyone’s wishes and raise the baby on her own? Or could Caleb become a father to this child?
 

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~Excerpt~

Caleb didn’t want to open his eyes. He knew the pregnant woman was sitting beside his bed because he could smell her. It was that same assertive, smart, and extremely sexy smell his sister-in-law Rachel had. Yes, Caleb had a crush on Rachel and yes, he proposed to her when he thought there was a slim chance his brother wasn’t going to take responsibility for his actions.

Holy hell, why did Caleb keep meeting and falling for women knocked up by some other guy. Why couldn’t he be that other guy? Probably the concussion researcher’s ‘Baby Daddy’ was just as smart and successful as she was. Then they’d have the perfect kid to complete their perfect family. Mother of God, Caleb hated perfect families.

“I know you’re awake,” she said in that take-no-prisoners tone of hers. Rachel spoke the same way when she was annoyed at him. For some damn reason, he liked it. “You may as well open your eyes,” she continued.

Sweet Jesus, why couldn’t she and that smell of hers leave him alone? It was jasmine with a hint of vanilla. Nothing overbearing like the buckle bunnies wore. “I’m not awake,” he mumbled as he covered his eyes with the heels of his hands. Yes, he knew what jasmine smelled like because Rachel drank the tea.

“Do you know you have a Grade III concession?” Then she crossed her legs. Caleb knew she did because he could hear her silky skin rub together. Or maybe she was crossing her arms. No, she couldn’t be that mad at him for getting himself knocked out. He laughed sadly. She was knocked up and he was knocked out.

He pulled his hands off his face and opened his eyes. Dammit, she had crossed her arms. “Did you know the rodeo circuit is no place for a pregnant woman?” he countered. Why, oh why did he have to be attracted to her? If only he could get that smell out of his nose, then maybe he could fight this thing.

“My personal life has nothing to do with you.” She moved closer to the bed and put her hand on his forehead. Her touch felt good as she pushed his hair back. Then she pulled his eyebrow up and at the same time flashed a light in his eye. Son of a gun, that didn’t feel good.

“What the hell?” he asked as his hair flopped back. His hair was like that, unruly. His brother had gotten the good hair, along with the good wife. No, Caleb wasn’t dwelling on the fact he wasn’t meeting any women he liked. Kelly Proctor, sister of the famous buckle bunny Kiddy, wasn’t doing it for him even though she kept trying and trying.

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SUMMER'S DESIRE by Kathleen Ball

SUMMER'S DESIRE by Kathleen Ball

Cowboy Seasons Book One

 Summer Fitzgerald is a person of interest in the robbery and murder of her former boss. With no resources she is forced to take a job as a nanny. To her surprise the job consists of watching four, almost full grown, cowboys and helping their handsome, older brother Holden O’Leary.

Veterinarian Holden O’Leary moves his family to a Montana ranch for a fresh start. His time is soon consumed rescuing neglected horses and he needs help with his bothers. Despite wishing otherwise, he soon finds that Summer holds his heart.

Will scandals and old secrets keep them from trusting each other or will Summer finally get her desire?



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Excerpt:

He stepped closer until his body barely touched hers. “I see that. Smells good.”

Turning her head slightly, she saw the side of his face as he looked over her shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Matt sounded angry.

Summer instantly straightened, but Holden was extremely slow at stepping back. “Making dinner is all.” Her voice wavered.

As Holden stepped away, she instantly missed his nearness and she knew she was a fool. Who’d want to be with her, the suspected accomplice? Besides he seemed to have his eye on Mindy Sue.

Holden took her hand in his big, strong one. “We’ll talk about the sheriff later.”

She gazed into his eyes trying to read him. He confused her to no end. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Hell, she barely knew him and she needed to get a grip on her wayward emotions. “Fine.”

He let go of her hand and ambled over to Matt. He sat in a chair next to the couch and the two talked in low tones. Neither one looked at her, so she ignored them and concentrated on cooking.

The thought of talking later interfered with her focus. Would she still have a job? It amazed her that she no longer felt the fear of being jobless. Caleb took care of that. It was the power of her feelings for Holden that worried her the most.

Dinner was jovial with the boys all teasing Matt about how much work they have to do with him laid up. Summer did not look at Holden at all. She could feel the heat of his gaze, but she needed to be in self-preservation mode. It was bound to hurt when he told her to leave. In the short time she’d been there she’d grown attached to all of the O’Learys. Who’d want a suspect in their house anyway? Holden needed to do what was best for his family and the best thing would be for her to go.

Yet, he had touched her in the kitchen. Her thoughts whirled as she pushed the food around on her plate. The boys didn’t seem to notice how upset she felt. She gave them half smiles and half answers. The end of the meal couldn’t come fast enough.

***

 Holden opened his big strong arms to her and she gladly stepped into the comfort he offered. It had been so long since anyone had believed her. He did believe her, didn’t he? The need to know outweighed the comfort of his arms. Pulling back, she saw worry and compassion in his dark eyes.

“You believe me?” Someone had told her once not to ask questions you don’t want the answer to. Her body suddenly chilled and her chin wobbled.

“Of course I believe you. You are a victim, Summer, and I don’t understand how everyone knew all the details. There are privacy laws now.”

“Not if your name is Beverly. I think the sheriff has a thing for her. She is always bringing him cakes and pies.”

A smile crossed Holden’s face and he chuckled. “I know it’s not funny but I can’t imagine those two together. The thought gives me nightmares.” He pulled her back into his arms and cradled her head against his chest with his palm. He kissed the top of her head.

Summer gazed up at him. His eyes glittered in the moonlight. The desire she saw was unmistakable. Yearning surged through her. The beating of her heart grew faster as his head inch down until his delectable lips were against hers. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her flush against him. The kiss grew bolder and she opened for him. His kiss was powerful and she felt weak in the knees.

Suddenly, Holden stepped back and the words unfair and wow came to mind.

“The door just slammed. One of my brothers is around.”

She nodded and smiled at Holden’s shortness of breath. She seemed to have the same effect on him.

Luke walked over toward them and Holden took a big step away from her. “Hey, Luke. What’s up?” Holden gave his brother a smile.

Luke shrugged his shoulder and gave Summer a hard look. “Matt’s asking for you both. Well, either one would probably do.”

“Is something wrong with him?” Guilt washed over her. She should have been in the house taking care of him.

“Don’t rightly know.”

“Thanks for the walk, Holden. You’re right I do need to take more walks.” Summer strode away and hurried to the house. What had she been thinking? Good Lord, how dense could she get? Holden did not need to get mixed up with the likes of her.

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THE LOVE GODDESS BRANDS HER COWBOYS by Raven Knight

THE LOVE GODDESS BRANDS HER COWBOYS by Raven Knight

Yeeha, Ride a cowboy or two if you are up to it! 
 

Star just happens to find a cowboy or two of her dreams. Not only from another planet, Star just happens to be the chocolate in a vanilla relationship of two men.  

Talk about complications; find out what happens next as The Love Goddess Brands Her Cowboys!

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~Excerpt~

“The only surefire way to keep someone of my species from being able to…take advantage of me is to be with a human man. Humans repel men from our planet and they can’t perform with us while we are with a human.”

In spite of his discomfort, he burst out laughing. The story was too ridiculous. “So having sex with a human man will save you,” he said, aware that he sounded amused.

“I was sent here for a reason. My mother sent that message to me. You are the right human to help me and I can heal you.”

“Heal me.” He smiled. “Listen beautiful, I won’t get involved with another woman for a long time. And much as I appreciate your offer to heal me,” he said, the mental pictures of that driving him crazy as he thought of her soft lips wrapped around his dick, “It’s not necessary. I’m fine. Sorry.” As he watched her pout and swallowed a groan. Why him? Why tonight?

“But we need each other. I know you can feel it, Chad,” she said persuasively, and her dark eyes glistening with tears that drew him in. He was about to just quickly escort her to his guest room, when she deliberately struck a sexy pose, tossing her hear, thrusting her chest out. He couldn’t breathe as he watched her smooth, dark skin that glistened, highlighting her plump tits, generous hips and long, long legs. Her legs seemed to go on forever. He gulped.  Frozen, he lifted his gaze to meet hers again feeling an attraction he didn’t want to fight as she drew him forward in an almost mystical way. He thought he saw stars circling around her head, but knew that was impossible. He had to be drunker than hell. It seemed that beams of light from her eyes would not let him go and her exotic scent intoxicated him. “No,” he managed to choke out as he stood before her. “I shouldn’t.”

She lifted her lovely red lips, batting her eyes. “Yes. You should.”

“Oh, damn, common sense!” Against his will…at least, it was certainly against his better judgment, he stepped up to her, wrapped his arms around her soft, damp skin and pulled her into his hard body, his cock throbbing madly. “I’ve lost my mind to your beauty,” he mumbled, agonized, just before he kissed her.
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HOT RIVALS by Cheryl Dragon

HOT RIVALS by Cheryl Dragon

Jay and Robbie both bare their bodies at the most popular strip club in Vegas.

Pleasing the customer is their main job. However, Jay isn’t going to let the new guy knock him out of the top spot without playing dirty.

Dating another stripper is asking for trouble, but in the end Jay finds himself being seduced by the sexiest cowboy in Vegas!

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Excerpt:

 

Jay Belfer watched his main competition from the corner of his eye. Robbie Sloan was fairly new to the Big D’s strip club. Sexy and friendly, Robbie made it easy to like him. The clients went wild for that cowboy charm. Jay worked hard not to get too close but kept an eye on the new meat. This was a job, and Jay had a lot invested in Big D’s.

Everyone knew the “D” stood for Dicks but the owner insisted it stood for her last name, D’Agostino. She loved well-hung men performing in her club, which was actually two strip clubs sharing one big building. One side for male patrons, the other for female.

The men’s half of the club featured all-the-way performances on stage. All the men—at least those working on the men’s side tonight—stripped down to nothing. On the other side of the building, another group of guys were doing the exact same thing for a screaming crowd of horny women. Jay never got tired of the rush of being on stage, no matter who he entertained.

In this crowd of gay men, he easily spotted the owner, Bev, watching Robbie shake his ass for the crowd. A professional stripper seven years now, Jay kept his eyes on the crowd and connected with the customers. He was still the top draw—for now.

The new guy, Robbie, was hard to resist and two years younger at twenty-five. He was tan with short brown hair and dark brown eyes. The guy came from a rodeo background so he was flexible and rugged, but rumors reported he had zero cash. Not unusual given the type of work he’d fallen into.

As the men’s pants came off, the crowd cheered. Jay gave them a little smile and saw a lot of regulars out there. Down to gauzy briefs that were pretty much see-through, he let the thrill of the crowd and exhibition turn him on. Jay insisted to himself that it wasn’t Robbie’s tight ass or slightly hairy chest getting his dick up. No way!

Bev generally demanded meticulous manscaping, but Robbie’s chest hair wasn’t overly thick and laid flat against his muscled form. She said it gave him added sex appeal and matched his wild western image. Jay glanced over and saw Robbie’s cock growing. Bev liked men to show it all on stage. It set their club apart. One side for women, one for men, but all of the men went nude and got turned on!

Having to show their erection on stage sent many newbie and wannabe strippers running for the hills. Most new guys thought it’d be easy money on their first day, but Bev was tough on her dancers. Performing took practice and work. The group of men turned and ripped off their briefs. Jay looked at Robbie and cursed himself. With his back to the crowd, Jay admiring other men didn’t matter for the show, but he was really getting turned on. This wasn’t just his usual showing-off hard on today.

Turning, they strutted their stuff and fanned out on the stage to display their full potential. The crowd went wild and after a few minutes, the strippers all headed back to the dressing room. Nudity never bothered Jay, and it didn’t last long. He’d done worse things for money.

Dressing for their next rounds, Jay didn’t have to rush. He was in the last group as a featured dancer. Robbie had moved around the lineup and was growing in popularity. Of course, tonight, he grabbed the chair next to Jay.

“Great crowd.” Robbie closed his jeans then tugged on a long-sleeved shirt.

“They’re good.” Jay noticed Robbie’s cock was still firm in the jeans.

His own member wasn’t relaxing as fast as it normally did. Damn attraction. He always wanted the wrong men! Robbie wasn’t a bad guy, at least not that Jay had found out, but he was the main competition.

Robbie layered a vest and a worn leather jacket atop his shirt. When he bent over to tug on his cowboy boots, Jay forced himself not to imagine Robbie blowing Jay’s cock there in a room full of mostly naked men. No other stripper had turned Jay on so much without even making a pass at him.

“You okay? You looked lost,” Robbie said.

“Fine. Just some stuff on my mind. On stage, I can blank it out, but I don’t go on for a while.”

“I’m up now. See you later.” Robbie smiled wide and dashed for the stage.

Bev liked the contrast of going all nude at first then having men layer on the costumes and show off their individual appeal. The first dance with all the men let customers check them out. Whatever tips came in were split equally from that. From now until the finale, it was one to three guys on the stage performing.

Jay refused to get up and watch Robbie from backstage, no matter how much his cock twitched. Luckily, another dancer came over and sat next to Jay. Any distraction was welcome and Ken had been around Big D’s a lot longer.

“Hot guy. He’s got a crush on you,” Ken teased.

“He’s got a story.” Jay didn’t like competition, but no one could be on top forever. He’d unseated Ken as the top dog a few years back. Ken was blond with dark brown eyes and a swimmer’s body that made women drool. But at forty, he was a veteran. Women and men still loved him, but he wasn’t the new flavor anymore. Jay felt the tug of knowing he wasn’t new, either. Hopefully, he’d handle losing the top spot someday as well as Ken had. He hadn’t iced out Jay, and Ken certainly hadn’t given up.

“We’ve all got a story. I heard his family is in rodeo. They found out he liked dick and tossed him.” Ken adjusted his tie. His tuxedo costume was perfect for him. Classy, sassy, and let him show off his dancing skills at a slower tempo without screaming that he was the older guy here.

“There are gay rodeo riders. Tons of them. I’ve dated a few.” Jay had heard so many sob stories from new strippers that he’d turned a little jaded. Maybe he wanted to find fault with Robbie as an excuse to deny the attraction.

“I guess his family had money, and it was all wrapped up in their show or whatever. So he was out with nothing. He’s hot and can move, though. Bev can pick them.” Ken looked at Jay in the mirror. “You’re really not interested?”

“No, I’m not taking a new guy in and making it easy on him. As soon as he gets his footing, he’d dump me for someone else. Those types always want a nice guy to save them and then run off with a bad boy who’ll hurt them. I’m not into rebound relationships or dealing with someone else’s drama.” Jay didn’t have to spell it out for Ken. Some of the men in the profession were complete users and anyone would do. “Of course, he’s good, Bev doesn’t hire crap dancers.”

Jay made it through his rough years because Bev and one of his Aunt’s up in Reno had looked out for him. Bev had no reason to help thus she had his eternal loyalty and respect. A former Vegas showgirl who’d gone topless on stage and did all sorts of things in hotel rooms, Bev understood the tricks of survival and strength. Now pushing sixty, she helped young men without judging and used her experience to put on a show she swore would run forever!

“Don’t get bitter. You’re not even thirty. Romantics.” Ken chuckled.

“I’ve been called a lot of things, but that isn’t one of them.” Jay listened for the music. Shit! He suddenly realized he’d been waiting for Robbie to hustle his nearly naked body back here.

“You are. Sure, you hook up with guys. Date. But the second a relationship goes south or something bad happens, you bail. You want the perfect Happy Ending. Maybe this Robbie is the one?” Ken brushed off his jacket.

Chuckling, Jay ignored a tug of need in his gut. He wanted more than sex, but that wasn’t the world he lived in. “He’s the competition not the boyfriend. You should worry about finding yourself a man to settle down with. You’re old enough to have fathered some of these guys.”

“If I ever screwed a girl, may rattlesnakes strike my dick. Why would I want to settle down?” Ken stood and headed to the stage as the announcer took over.

Jay smiled but didn’t believe for a second Ken liked being alone. Neither of them had ever been with a woman, but it didn’t change the fact that age happened to everyone. In the end, no one really wanted to be alone. He wanted to see Ken find the right guy. It’d give Jay hope. Just then, Robbie strutted back, his tight g-string filled with money. All Jay saw were Robbie’s firm buns.


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SILVER BELLA by Lucy Monroe

SILVER BELLA by Lucy Monroe

She is the only thing he wants to unwrap.

Bella Jackson models clothes only the most sexually confident woman would dare to wear. But there’s a secret hiding behind the bad-girl reputation and barely there couture. Under the covers, she’s a total novice.

At least it was a secret. Not anymore, thanks to an ex’s blabbing. Now she’s been branded with a potentially career-ending label: Ice Queen.

Only years of practice keep the nerves at bay, and her signature walk rock steady—until a tall, sexy Texan’s gaze fixes like a laser beam on her scantily clad body. And her stiletto heels miss a step.

From the moment Jake Barton locks eyes with the smoking-hot woman on the catwalk, he knows it’s only a matter of time. He never expected the heat between them to melt away her aloof façade before they’ve even touched, revealing the vulnerable woman underneath.

Suddenly he realizes he wants more than a roll in the hay. Now to convince her to take a chance on Texas—and him—before their fragile relationship is bulldozed by tabloid lies and innuendo.

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Copyright © 2012 Lucy Monroe
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication
Sexless mannequin.

The words reverberated through Bella Jackson’s head as she stepped out onto the catwalk.

“A man could get frostbite touching you. You’re all smoke and no fire, babe. If the world knew what a total fraud you are, you’d never get another modeling job again. Who wants the original ice queen modeling clothes for today’s sensual woman?”

Curt’s vitriolic accusations echoed around her, drowning out the announcer’s modulated voice, even though the confrontation had taken place miles away and days ago.

She couldn’t forget.

Maybe because Curt had taken his story to the press, and her face and body were plastered all over the tabloids with headlines that made her cringe.

Bella Jackson, Ice Queen or Sexpot?

Model Freezes Boyfriend Out of Bed.

Lexi’s Creations Cover Model Fraud.

Ex-boyfriend Says This Model’s Bed Needs an Electric Blanket to Stay Warm.

And the one that had given her mother heart palpitations: Ex-boyfriend Speculates Bella is Gay.

She’d done hundreds of trunk shows in her ten-year modeling career, but never had she been so nervous stepping onto a stage.

Had everyone in the audience seen the stories? Were they laughing behind their hands as she modeled clothes that only a woman extremely in touch with her own sexuality would wear?

That woman was not Bella.

She didn’t have hang-ups, no matter what that jerk Curt said. It was just that she’d been so career minded since her teens the whole man-woman thing had pretty much passed her by. Not to mention the fact that she wasn’t interested in getting intimate with a man who couldn’t see beyond her body to the woman inside.

She’d had her bad experiences with idiots who thought her bra size was equivalent to her IQ, and men who wanted a trophy on their arm, not a living, breathing woman in their life, so she’d pretty much stopped dating. Until Curt.

When he’d pressed for sex, she’d been unable to share her secret—or her body—with him.

The truth was, she hadn’t wanted to.

His kisses and what he’d wanted to do afterward had left her as cold as he’d accused her of being.
She was a twenty-six-year-old virgin with a reputation for extravagant sex and a supposed list of lovers the length of the Miami Yellow Pages. It wasn’t her fault that the press speculated, or that men who hadn’t made it to first base had bragged about their homeruns, but neither had she denied the rumors. Lexi said her reputation was good for the line and Bella had considered it another cost of her career.

Her bad-girl reputation had done its own job keeping her insulated from the type of men she could actually want. The men attracted to the persona she presented to the world were very rarely the type of men she could be honestly attracted to.

Curt had been different, or so she’d thought.

She’d found out too late that the conservative accountant had only wanted the bad girl, not the real Bella. He’d wanted to take a walk on the wild side with her as his tour guide.

The last daywear model was returning up the catwalk when the announcer introduced Lexi’s eveningwear and Bella began her signature glide down the Plexiglas stage, her hands damp and her heart beating too fast.

Subdued lighting made it possible for her to make eye contact with the audience, but that was the last thing she wanted. Still, she couldn’t help subtly scanning the patrons seated in the ultraclassy Dallas hotel, looking for signs that the tabloid stories had done their damage.

But this audience seemed just like all the others, their gazes fixed on her shocking white silk dress.

She was halfway down the catwalk when her gaze snagged on a pair of green eyes. The color of new grass, they were set in a face as hard as granite and as sexy as sin.

The look in those eyes caught her as effectively as if the man’s hands had closed over her shoulders and halted her midstep. She did in fact stop, her body freezing with a blast of sensations totally alien to her. Sensations that belied every one of the nasty headlines.

Her pause lasted only a second, but she felt the first blush she’d had in years crawling hotly up her skin.

The man’s thin lips quirked in a knowing smile.

Obviously aware that he was the cause of her hesitation, his expression reflected a mixture of mocking humor and blatant male approval.

She’d spent years learning to ignore the masculine admiration her body elicited. For her, the perfectly proportioned curves were a tool of her trade, nothing more, but this man’s look went zinging to the very heart of her.

Frissons of awareness skittered along her nerve endings, leaving goose bumps of sensation in unlikely places.

She stopped at the end of the stage, which happened to be right in front of his table, while two other models wearing eveningwear came down the catwalk to flank her.

His eyes flared with pleasure as she stood in a mannequin-still pose before him and his dark-blond head tilted slightly, as if he was adjusting his angle to look at her better.

An electric current vibrated across the space between them, inexorably connecting her with the mysterious green-eyed stranger. Unbelievably, her nipples grew hard and her breasts felt tight, while her thighs trembled with the effort it took to maintain her pose.

She’d never reacted this way during a show. Not ever.

Only years of practice and discipline made it possible for her to move through her choreographed routine with the other two models. However, no matter which direction she turned, she felt that amazing connection.

It was scary.

Relief mixed with disappointment when the announcer cued her to return up the catwalk. She walked away from the green-eyed man, supremely aware of the almost nonexistent nature of the back of her gown.

It dipped to a V that ended right above her bottom, the white silk semitransparent. She wore minimal undergarments and if he was looking closely enough, he would see the shadow of her cheeks and the outline of her legs beneath the fabric. Shards of excitement speared her inner thighs at the thought.

For the first time in her modeling career, she felt exposed, as if her body was more than a living mannequin used to show off a designer’s creations.

That the dress was in fact showing her off.

She could not help wondering what he thought of an outfit that left so little of her body’s secrets to the imagination.

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WHERE THERE'S A WILL by Karen Kelley

WHERE THERE'S A WILL by Karen Kelley

Her Fantasies Were Wild But Buried Deep...

Haley Tillman works hard at being a good girl, hiding her rich fantasy life in the pages of her diary. But being good doesn't seem to get her anywhere with men, and her confidence is on a downward spiral. She's ready to try something altogether different, but hasn't a clue where to start. In a moment of desperation, she prays for a miracle...

He Might Take Her Beyond Them...

Ryder is the perfect combination of powerful angel plus normal hot–blooded man. Crossing into the mortal world could cost him his existence. But mortals are like a potent drug to Ryder, and Hayley is quickly becoming his drug of choice...

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Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter 1

"Please, Lord, you have to send me a miracle. A man, in case you want specifics."

Haley Tillman really needed to get laid before she incinerated. If a man looked cross-eyed at her, the only thing left would be a pile of smoking ashes.

Just one little bitty miracle. Was that too much to ask?

She was thoughtful for a moment, then decided she'd better revise her prayer. Once, she'd asked for a stuffed bunny rabbit. The next day her dad took her to the taxidermist to pick up Fifi, the family dog that had died two weeks before, or as Haley preferred to call the beast when no one was around, The Tasmanian Terror. The mongrel was more her mother's pet. Her father had had the miniscule creature stuffed.

There was also a sale on stuffed rabbits. She hated the glass-eyed zombie rabbit and hid the nasty looking creature in the back of her closet. There was no escape from Fifi, though. Her mother placed the silent menace in the living room where everyone could see the dog.

So maybe a prayer revision might be in order. "Not just any man. I want a really hot, drool-worthy, sexy man." That still wasn't good enough. "No, he has to be more than a normal man. He has to stand above mere mortals. No more dweebs, losers, or rejects." She figured it wouldn't hurt to ask for the best.

And no more crying jags like the one last night just because she'd been stood up. She threw the cover back and grabbed her black-rimmed glasses off the nightstand before heading toward the bathroom.

A miracle would be nice. She snorted. As if a miracle was ever going to happen. She was pretty sure hot and sexy would never make it to her front door. Her almost date hadn't been drool-worthy. She supposed Ben wasn't bad looking, in a GQ, polished sort of way.

Haley sighed. Being stood up was nothing new. Anyone with a little bit of sense would be used to it by now, but not her. Okay, so maybe she sort of expected it because she'd cornered him. She did not wear desperation well.

"Ben could've said no," she mumbled as she walked inside the bathroom and flipped on the light. Her coworker from the bank owed her. Haley had worked all week crunching numbers for him.

She casually glanced toward the mirror and saw an apparition.

Her heart pounded inside her chest. She stumbled back, bumping into the bathtub. Before she toppled inside, she slapped a hand on the toilet seat and regained her balance.

As her pulse slowed to a more normal rate, she cautiously scanned the tiny room. She was the only one there. Her imagination was getting the best of her. That's all it could be. Over-tired, stressed, of course she was seeing things. She came to her feet, nerves stretched taut. Her stomach rumbled.

Please don't be the ghost of Nanny.

She loved Nanny, but her grandmother was gone, and though Haley had lots of fond memories, she wanted her to stay gone.

She was still trembling when her gaze landed on the mirror. She jumped, heart pounding again until she realized it was only her reflection that stared back. Fantastic, she'd scared herself. This had to be an all-time low.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them again. Mornings were not good. She should drape black silk over her mirrors until she at least had her first pot of coffee. Not that she was monstrously hideous, but she was no beauty queen, either.

She had her father's looks. Her father was tall. Haley was five feet seven inches. She also had her father's dull, dishwater blonde hair. Her hair had turned bright orange when she attempted to color it in the eighth grade. She decided dull blonde was better. Her boobs were too big, too, but they matched her hips.

All the magazines she read said you had to like at least one thing about yourself. Her legs were nice and long. When she wasn't tripping over her feet, she was fairly satisfied with them. Except her life was never going to change. And miracles? She stopped believing in miracles a long time ago.

She brushed her teeth, then dragged a comb through her tangled hair so it didn't look quite so much like a rat's nest. There was a half gallon of ice cream in the kitchen freezer. It wouldn't be too difficult to eat herself into sugar oblivion. She could bring new meaning to the phrase death by chocolate. What would her sister say? Rachael never, absolutely never, let sugar cross her lips, and she always said Haley was killing herself. Right now, she didn't really care.

The buzz from her doorbell blasted through the tiny two-bedroom house that she'd inherited from Nanny, effectively drawing her away from her dreary thoughts. Bummer. She'd already started planning her funeral. She sighed. It was way too early for doorbells.

She grabbed her faded pink terry-cloth robe off the hook on the door and pulled it on over her green froggy flannel pajamas and left the bathroom. The doorbell buzzed again.

"Okay, okay," she mumbled.

Once she stood at the front door, she peered through the peephole her father had installed for safety, as if anyone would ever break into her house. What would they steal? Her hand-me-down furniture?

She blinked. No one there. Were they hiding?

Hmm, serial killer lurking outside her door? Would that count as a date? Nope, they didn't have murders in Hattersville. Nothing, absolutely nothing, ever happened in the small town. She shook her head and opened the door a crack, making sure the chain was secure.

"Hello?"

A man stepped into her line of vision. Haley's mouth dropped open. Good Lord! This had to be the guy who invented tall, dark, and sexy! Her thighs quivered.

At least six feet one inch of pure testosterone stood on her porch. He had the dark good looks of a male stripper, only with clothes on. The stranger removed his black Stetson, slowly dragging his fingers through thick, coal-black hair. His deep blue eyes held her gaze before sliding down her body as if he could see more than the sliver revealed from the slightly open door.

Warm tingles spread over her like a Texas wildfire in the middle of summer. She could barely draw in a breath as her gaze moved past broad shoulders and a black Western shirt that hugged his scrumptious muscles. Then her eyes slipped right down to the low-slung jeans riding his hips, past muscled thighs, all the way to his scuffed black boots.

Oh, Lord, her every fantasy stood on her front porch!

She forced herself to meet his gaze.

I want him! She felt like a kid in a candy store with lots of money to spend. Mommy, Mommy, can I have the hot sexy cowboy? Pleeeeeeeeease!

If only it was that easy. No way would she ever have the opportunity to have sex with someone who looked like him. What was he doing at her door, anyway? Lost?

"Haley, right?" he asked with a slow drawl that made her body tremble with need.

How did he know her name? She grasped the door a little harder. He smiled as though he knew exactly what she was thinking. Her world began to tilt. She remembered that breathing might not be a bad thing so she drew in a deep breath. "What?" the word warbled out. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Do you need directions or something?"

"You're Haley."

She nodded.

He smiled wider, showing perfectly straight white teeth. "Mind if I come in?"

Her fantasy of this cowboy's naked body pressed against her naked body shattered like rocks hitting a mirror. Oh, this guy was good, real good, but she wasn't born yesterday. He'd obviously seen her name on the mailbox out front. She raised her chin. "I don't need a vacuum.
I have all the pots and pans I will ever use-including waterless cookware. There's a complete set of encyclopedias on my e-reader and I have a double-barrel shotgun for protection. Now, do you want to tell me why you're ringing my doorbell at this time of morning?"

"You prayed for a miracle. I'm the answer to your prayer." He rested his hand on her grandmother's white rocking chair. Her rocker had always sat in that same spot on the porch for as long as Haley could remember. The cowboy lightly set the chair in motion. Back and forth, back and forth, his thumb lightly caressing the weathered wood.

Wow, her prayer had really been answered? The man upstairs had given her more than she'd asked for. She reached up to smooth her hair about the same time reality set in. Had she lost her mind?

"Go away!" She slammed the door shut. Her pulse raced so fast Haley thought her heart would jump out of her chest. At this rate she was going to have a heart attack before she turned twenty-seven! Who was he? Definitely the wrong house. Shoot, the wrong town. No one who looked like him lived in Hattersville. Definitely a salesman. As if she needed another vacuum cleaner. Three were quite enough. Another magazine subscription might have been nice. One could never have enough magazines.

But wouldn't it have been nice if he was sent in answer to a prayer? How had he known she'd prayed for a miracle? Not that it mattered since she'd slammed the door in his face.

Oh, hell!

What was she thinking? Haley smoothed her hands down the sides of her robe, took a deep breath, and started to open the door. She remembered at the last minute to remove her glasses and stick them in her pocket. Rachael had said they made her appear to be more professional. Haley thought the glasses made her look like Buddy Holly. She wore them out of habit rather than a need to see. She pasted a smile on her face and opened the door as much as the chain would allow.

The cowboy wasn't there.

Had she only imagined him, too? She closed the door enough so that she could slide off the chain. Her smile was still firmly in place when she opened the door again. Nothing. Only old Mrs. Monroe watering her lawn across the street. She looked up and waved as her crotchety husband came around the corner of the house, getting a face full of water. Mrs. Monroe quickly dropped the hose.

"Damn, thought we'd finally got some rain," he sputtere...

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