Monthly Archives: September 2012

Moving to menage….2 legs too many?

Hello everyone. Thanks to Benjamin Russell, who allowed me his slot today, after I had a little snafu with my scheduling this week. I can only blame it on my fall cold- darn sinuses messed me up! So, thanks Benjamin!

I come to you today with my writer’s tail between my legs. I have a dilemma. Maybe you can help me resolve it.

All my books have involved heterosexual couples who end up in a committed relationship, but as we all know, there are different strokes for different folks out there. I’ve recently toyed with the idea of writing a M/F/M menage novel. In fact, my fellow Smutters have given me some terrific ideas in a chat we had not long ago. I’ve read several menage stories and have enjoyed them immensely. So, of course, my intention was to just write a menage story! It would be fresh and new for me, and would likely rev the old creative engines!

Right? Well, sort of.

After having tackled couple love stories, I figured adding another person to the mix would be no big deal. Was I wrong? You bet your sweet flogger, I was!

It’s not the physical aspect that confounds me. After all, it’s pretty clear that certain appendages can only go in certain places when you have a threesome. And I wasn’t planning on involving any alien life forms who might have extra arms or noses or heads.

It’s the emotion involved. Add an extra man to the mix and suddenly you have a whole new dynamic. There is potential for jealousy unless those 2 guys are ultra-secure with the menage. You’ve got a woman who could be really worried about pleasing both her men. And the men I was considering are brothers…wow- there’s another possible issue right there! Not all menage readers enjoy reading about siblings, even though I know there will be no touchie-feelie between these brothers for obvious reasons.

Writing menage is not the lark I assumed it might be. I have a new respect for menage authors. As Paige Tyler told me, you have to make sure you’re not fighting the story, or that the story is not fighting you. Sage advice!

So, I put it to you readers out there. What do you look for in a menage book? What sorts of emotions do you want to feel? What turns you on, or off, in a menage story? Please share…and maybe one of these days, my randy brothers will live to see the light of day!

In the mean time, I’ll leave you with a blurb from one of my 2-person books! We’ll see if that third gets added any time soon.

Rosanna Leo

Up In Flames:

Juliet Baker is not looking forward to coming home after six months. Yes, the fiery brunette wants to make a go of turning her parents’ farmhouse into a B&B. She’s just not looking forward to seeing the place where they died. To make things worse, she knows she’ll finally have to face her cheating, firefighter ex-boyfriend.Luckily, her sister has found Jules a boarder. Easy money, right? Not when she realizes the boarder is Captain Shane Gaskill. Not only is Shane a firefighter, he’s the town’s hot new fire captain.Jules is determined to hate all firefighters. After all, the men of that precious brotherhood protected her cheating ex. Shane, however, proves he’s different from the start. He’s protective and kind, and she can’t stop looking at his smoking, Viking-hot body. She learns, though, that Shane isn’t so willing to love again either. He’s been hurt, too. They both fight the sexual chemistry, and resulting tenderness, between them. But when a stalker begins to target Jules, they realize they can’t fight their desire forever.

As the threats escalate, Shane and Jules are thrown together. The resulting passion overwhelms them. But are they willing to trust each other and surrender to the flames of love?

http://www.amazon.com/Up-In-Flames-ebook/dp/B0086WCFN4/ref=la_B007X5P4I8_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1348848431&sr=1-3

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It’s a Muse Thing

I have a love/hate relationship with my muses. Yes, I have more than one…or two. I have three. Yes, a great menage in my head. At all times. And it’s wonderful having these different creative beings stimulate my imagination. Some days the stories erupt and flow without hinderance, while other times it’s a sad trickle. That’s the part I hate.

So back to this love/hate thing, for the last few months the writing has been an effortless tasks, the muses were speaking, whispering, coaxing and cajoling. And I loved it. No prodding of the muses was necessary. All I had to do was sit down and type or grab pen and paper to jot down an idea. There are plenty of finished products published, contracted or awaiting submission. Love it.

However, this past week or maybe the entire month of September the muses have slowly calmed down. I can’t really blame them, edits, back to school, catching a cold all put a damper on creativity. New opportunities have occurred, I have a recipe in the Passionate Cooks Cookbook. Keep an eye out for Sensual Sticky Buns. 🙂 Also I’m working on my first series, and the biggie I self-pubbed a book under a different name. And if that isn’t enough, I’ve got lots of books coming out over the next three months.

No wonder the muses want to take a break and while it’s okay for them to kickback when I’m editing, there’s no rest for the whiny. So *grabs shiny new riding crop* it’s time to get back to work. *pokes and prods the muses* Don’t look at me like that. You motivate your muses your way and I’ll motivate my muses my way. 🙂 Besides, I think one likes it.

 

Until next time, Indulge Your Inner Romantic.

 
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Welcome guest blogger Lori King!

Smoking out Caroline Trainor from the Wolf’s Den

Hello fellow smut lovers! I’m Lori King and the lovely ladies and gentleman of 69 Shades of Smut have graciously allowed me to stop in and introduce my book, Fire of the Wolf, as well as its heroine, Caroline Trainor.

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I’ll get straight to the nitty gritty; here’s how my interview with Caroline Trainor went.

~~~~~~

I’m waiting at my fave table in my fave coffee shop when Caroline Trainor walks in the door. Her long, mahogany colored hair is loose around her shoulders, and her petite frame is encased in a lovely blue coat dress. I greet her with the hug of a close friend, if not a family member. In the six weeks I spent writing her book with her and her mates, Devin and Damon Gray, I feel like we became family.

As we settle into our seats, I smile my most charming ‘I want something from you’ grin, and jump right into my reason for asking her to meet me. “Okay Caroline, so here’s the deal. I’ve been invited to guest post on 69 Shades of Smut—“

“Holy Shit! Really? 69 Shades of Smut is one of my favorite blogs!” she interrupts excitedly, and I laugh at her honest enthusiasm. I knew she was a freak like the rest of us.

“I know, right? I’m really excited, and I wanted to do something fun, so I thought I would turn the spotlight on you this time.” I’m a little worried about how she will handle being on the receiving end of the questions. She did spend a lot of time giving me the third degree after I visited her future husband, Devin at the fire station while he was on duty last month.  It was all innocent. I swear! *wink wink*

“Okay, like when you do a Spotlight on your blog? I like reading those. I’ve found some great new authors from those interviews.” she looks intrigued.

I’m relieved that she understands what I’m wanting, and I plow on, “Exactly. So I’ve modified the questions because you’re not an erotic romance author, and added a few for fun. Are you game?”

Her brown eyes are snapping with excitement now, and she leans forward with her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, “Definitely! I love this kind of thing. Hit me with your best shot, Lori.”

I take a deep breath and glance back at my notes, “Okay, first up; what’s your favorite color?”

Caroline rolls her eyes at me, and sarcastically asks, “Really? That’s your first question?”

Grinning, I tilt my chin at her in challenge, “Yep, gotta ask the fluff before I can get to the meat.”  I wink at her, and she laughs loudly.

A small wrinkle appears between her eyes as she answers, “Okay, well I guess purple. No wait. It’s green. Definitely green.”

“Let me guess—” I start to say, knowing already why she has picked that as her favorite shade.

“Yep. Have you seen their eyes? Damon’s are this deep ivy green color that look like wet grass right before he comes, and Devin’s are a clear light green color. Sometimes I think I’m going to get swallowed up whole just by their eyes.”

Crap. Now she has that dreamy lost in love look on her face. I think the last time I saw it was right after her and the Gray twins announced their pregnancy. I’ve got to steer her back to why we’re here before I lose her for good.

“Moving on….elevator, escalator, or stairs?”

She smiles, “Definitely stairs, unless I just finished a twelve hour shift at the hospital. Then it’s going to be the elevator, that’s for damn sure.”

Nodding my sympathies for her aching feet, I pick another question, “What would we find in your fridge if this were an episode of MTV cribs?”

“Well, we’re werewolves, so meat obviously. Lots and lots of red meat. Steaks and burgers are pretty standard fare at our place, and it’s anybody’s guess if it will get cooked before it’s eaten.” She grimaces a little at the look on my face. I’m sure I’ve turned a delightful shade of grayish green now.

“Ew?”

She shrugs nonchalantly, “It could be worse. Other than meat, we have pomegranates-Devin’s favorite, Snickers ice cream bars-my favorite, and Mountain Dew-Damon’s vice.”

“What’s playing on your iPod right now?”

“I was listening to Luke Bryan, Country Girl, before I got here. I would shake it for that man if he asked.” She shivers slightly, and we both sigh in agreement as I glance around nervously.

“Shit, don’t let the twins hear you say that. They would have my ass!”

“Not likely. This is the only ass they get to have for the next lifetime or so.” The self-satisfied grin on her face leaves me feeling jealous as hell. I think I will have to meet up with Mr. King after coffee, and remind him about the ass he gets to have.  We share a knowing grin, and I move on.

“If you can take only one thing into the bedroom, besides your men, what would it be?”

A slow sinful smile creeps over her pretty face, “Mmmm…rope.”

Aww! A girl after my own heart! I nearly swallow my tongue at the mental images of her tied up while her two men pleasure her, and I have to swallow hard to refocus on my interview.

“Favorite book?”

“Besides the one about me? Fire of the Wolf was pretty damn awesome if I do say so myself. Can I say the one about my best friend, Tina? Reflections of the Wolf.”

I have to laugh at her audacity, “You’re slightly partial to those two. Do you have any favorites besides ones that you’re in?”

She nods and looks very serious, “It’s probably a toss up between Mia Ashlinn’s, Destined to be Three, and Cassandre Dayne’s, On Becoming His. I just recently found the joy of ménage and Mia’s story is super hot, and lately I seem to have a thing for Dominant men…” The flush on her cheeks just enhances her beauty.  I know full well how much she likes her men taking control.

“I’m not sure I need to ask this but I will anyway. Lovemaking, wham bam, or kinky fuckery?”

She laughs in delight, “Oh good question! Well you know me, I like a little bit of all of it. I think everyone needs some kink in their life, and just the other day, Damon got back from patrol and he pushed me up against the wall… Well, let’s just say, there’s a place for wham bam, too.”

“Bitch.”

“Jealous much?”

We both laugh, and I put my questions away. “Enough of the interview. Tell me how you guys are doing.”

“Amazing. Devin and Damon are more than I could ever have dreamed. Then again, I never imagined myself in a ménage relationship, so it’s pretty much always more than I ever dreamed.”

“You’re a lucky woman. Those men love you more than anything else.”

“I know. Sometimes I have to pinch myself. Anyways, right now they are a bit protective because of everything that happened with Barton Diego. Nothing like a life threatening battle of the wolves to up the ante in a relationship, right? And now they are keeping me wrapped in pillows because of the baby. This is the longest I’ve been alone in weeks. I guess I spoke too soon.”

She points in the direction of the front door, and I turn just as two six foot plus mountains of masculine muscle come in the door of the coffee shop. The women in the room are now solely focused, as a group, on their gorgeous forms as they stalk across the room towards us. They move like predators with the scent of prey, and with their golden Native American coloring and dark hair, they look dangerously sexy.

I shake off the hypnotic feeling of lust that the Gray twins seem to inspire in every person with a vagina and grumble, “Did they think I wouldn’t return you safely?”

She arches an eyebrow at me, and looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Do they ever need a reason to go all caveman on me?”

The two men reach our table, and they both take turns giving their mate flaming hot kisses that literally send my pulse racing as I watch. Then simultaneously they turn to me. I don’t know if I can put into words how I react to them, but let’s just say it’s a good thing I was wearing panties, because if not, there might have been a puddle under me.

“Lori.” Devin says and he flashes me that sexy dimple as his gaze trails over my now trembling body. With just a look, he’s reduced me to ashes.

“Devin. Damon. I’ve missed seeing you two sexy beasts. “ I stand and hug both men before I sigh regretfully. “I guess this concludes our lunch, Caroline.”

“Oh no, they can sit down and wait. I want to hear about Tina’s happy ending. I know you finished it, so spill.” She points to the table next to us, and both men drag chairs over. The look they give her is clear. They are doing it because they want her to be happy; not because they want to.

I shake my head vehemently. “Nope. You have to wait until October. I’m not saying a word!”

I should have known I was in trouble when she grinned wickedly, and both men groan. “I have dirt on Ryley and Rafe…”

I hesitate for just a moment, but she knows she has me by the short strings. I’m right in the middle of writing Rafe and Ryley’s story, and I would love to have some good info from an outside source. “Done. So you know how he just blurted it out to her, that she was his mate? Well, he managed to get her back to his place that same night…”

~~~~~~~~

You didn’t think I would give away the secrets that easily, did you? Caroline and I ate dessert with Devin and Damon while we all gossiped, and I filled her in on Tina and Liam’s story. I can’t wait to share it with my readers too. Reflections of the Wolf (The Gray Pack Book 2) is set to release October 9 on www.bookstrand.com/Lori-King  . Don’t miss it! If you haven’t read Fire of the Wolf you can pick it up at www.bookstrand.com/fire-of-the-wolf  , and check out my blog for updates on The Gray Pack Book 3, and the other stories I have in progress. I just started revising a story about three brothers in Texas…wait! That’s for another day! Thank you again to the wonderful smut peddlers of 69 Shades! I loved visiting you all!

Remember to always Live, Laugh, and Love like today is your only chance!~Lori King

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When The Muse Goes Nuts

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Photo purchased from/ Copyright (c) 123RF Stock Photos

It has been a rocky year for me especially when it comes to writing. I’ve had to take books back from publishers,  re edit them and try to find a new home so that readers can once again enjoy them. I’ve had writers block, migraine hell and anything else that has been thrown my way.

But…yes there is a but..how can there not be a but….I’m still here and kicking it..

Lately I’ve been doing a lot of plotting for new projects. I once counted I had over 100 stories and notes scribbled down and after some time I stopped counting.

The last few weeks my muse…lets just say I’m not sure if it is a he or she since it seems to be moody at times has decided to bombard me with new ideas and plots for books.

Everyone keeps telling me, don’t you dare start a new book..I want to have you finish this and that. I know…So do I..There are so many books I’ve started and a some which are finished and in edit stage that are crying to me to be done.

Over the last month I’ve pretty much gotten a brand new idea everyday. There was a day where I plotted a 12 book series. Well most of it was plotted. In case you are wondering it is erotic romance and sci-fi genre. I love my sci-fi and have wanted to do that for the longest time.

Some days I would get 2-3 ideas from my muse and the funny thing is the genre’s were so far apart.

I don’t know if I’m the only one but honestly my brain does not want to shut off. I lie down to go to sleep at night and it is like there is a plotting party up there. I just want to scream and say shhhhh give me a moment of silence here..

Don’t get me wrong. I love the fact that there are so many ideas coming to me and so many fresh stories but sometimes my muse just goes nuts.

As I said it can be moody and at times it will just hit me with writer’s block and I’m stuck with it until it goes away.

I wish I wrote faster like some authors I know. I don’t and I know it will be some time before I get all these done.

For now I just have to find a way to control this muse…

Do you have times like this when you are bombarded with ideas and can’t keep up with them?

As always come on over and join me on Facebook and my Official Site. I’ve got contests and events going on all the time. Keep up with my books and flashers. All the fun and naughty things in my world.

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LONG-DISTANCE SEX by Guest Blogger Sable Hunter

I’ve been thinking a lot about long-distance relationships lately. In my latest book, Forget Me Never, there is a portion in which the hero and heroine are many thousands of miles apart. Patrick is a marine sniper who gets deployed to Afghanistan and his most desperate fear is being forgotten. His only surviving family member is his grandfather, who, unfortunately, is losing his mind to Alzheimer’s disease. Savannah is the daughter of victims of Hansen’s disease, better known as leprosy, and although she does not suffer from leprosy herself, its stigma haunts her daily and she has never been loved the way a woman needs to be. When Patrick and Savannah find each other, their love is instant and over-powering and they embrace almost immediately. (what did you expect? It IS a Sable Hunter novel, after all) They meet each other’s needs and discover that all the magic of Louisiana has destined them to be together. Not long after falling inexorably in love with one another, Patrick’s responsibility to his country rips him from her arms and deposits him on the other side of the globe.

Long distance can be one of the most difficult trials of a relationship, however, the couple that can conquer it will find a strength that few pairs can boast. I have suffered the agony of loving someone that I cannot reach. However, we are resourceful souls and we have discovered ways to keep the sweet and the spice of the romance burning on, even from miles away.

I loooooooove phone sex. I enjoy hearing the voice of my lover telling me what he wants to do to me. He commands me and I obey. He tells me where to put my fingers and what to do with them when they get there. There is so much sensuality in his voice. A strong, husky, masculine baritone with a coating of Texas drawl is the absolute sexiest thing in the world. That voice telling me how to please myself is a dream come true. I also love to hear him say what he is doing to himself. If my lover can paint a picture for me with his words, then I can get lost with him. It’s like my imagination has a co-pilot and he takes me wherever he wants me to go and shows me whatever he wants me to see.

Just like Patrick and Savannah, I have tried cyber-sex via email or instant messaging and it is a great opportunity to be descriptive and take your time. I am not going to reveal how many of my love scenes have been birthed from my own late-night digital rendezvous, but I will say that the amount of love it takes for a man to write his lover a long sexy story or poem is a humbling, beautiful, wondrous thing. Patrick asks Savannah to keep in touch with him over email while is overseas and they begin to share sexy emails back and forth. In fact, that is how Patrick and Savannah completely fall in love with one another. Those communications, despite occurring from thousands of miles away revealed the true selves of the characters. Patrick gained someone who would never forget him, and Savannah found herself belonging to a man that would love her no matter what her past looked like. It is one of my favorite parts of the book.

I have never done it, or I won’t admit to it, but sensual, video cyber-chats can be an extraordinarily intimate thing. I can only imagine seeing my lover’s face as he pleases himself with the thought of me or seeing a video that he has made with me in mind. I would love to see the desire on his face as I show my body to him. Technology is making the long-distance relationship easier when you don’t have to go without looking at the person you care for the most. How comforting it must be to lay eyes on your lover and share sensuality after so long.

My favorite is sexting. It is just so damn naughty. You can send and receive texts basically anywhere. It is so exciting to be at work or in a meeting and look down and read what your lover is going to do to you when he can. The taboo of the publicity granted by the secrecy and convenience of texting adds an entirely new dimension to intimate conversation. I love to think about what dances across my lover’s face when he reads a sexy text I sent him during a business luncheon. Can he hide it? Does he try to? Is his mind wrapped up in my body instead of getting anything productive done? It is just absolutely delicious to think about.

Sadly, most relationships do not survive long-distance. It is possible, however, and the intimacy you can create by sharing your love and body with your partner will go a long way in fortifying that connection. The few couples that do make it, and come out on the other side of the struggle with a resilience and confidence in each other, made the intimacy work. They made time for sexy phone calls and emails. I encourage you to reach out to your significant other and give him or her as much of yourself as you can muster. If you are one of the lucky people in the world, whose lover is a warrior or soldier laying his or her life down for our country, be sure to be there for them. Give them someone to love and hold on to. Give them someone to fantasize about and dream of. Give them a reason to get up in the morning and fight hard every day.

I tried to capture that kind of love in “Forget Me Never,” a desperate, hopeful, life-changing love that conquers war and disease and even death. I give thanks to my collaborators – Ryan O’Leary and Jess Hunter. Here is a little excerpt for you. I hope you enjoy!

The buy link is – http://www.amazon.com/Forget-Never-Cajun-Spice-ebook/dp/B009DID9WG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1348526603&sr=8-1&keywords=forget+me+never+sable+hunter

My website is – http://sablehunter.com/

My facebook page is https://www.facebook.com/messages/#!/sableserotica

Email me at sablehuntertx@gmail.com – I answer every email.

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Excerpt – Fall changed to winter and Savannah and Patrick drew even closer. The days she didn’t hear from him were torture. She kept up with her work and ghost hunted fairly often, but the highlight of her life was the time she spent online with Patrick. Afghanistan and the war meant something different to her now than it did before. It was much more real and much more important. She kept her TV on CNN now and anytime she heard that a Marine had been killed, she was glued to the computer until she heard from him again. And during the times they couldn’t contact one another, she consoled herself by reading their emails. A folder labeled LOVE in her online mailbox was where she kept them stored, a modern day woman’s love letters. Soon, she promised herself, she would print them out – just in case.

Now she needed her Patrick fix, so she pulled up one that made her heart race every time she read it.

Hey, Baby. I know we talked earlier, but you’ve been on my mind constantly. I’m so damn lonely for home. Every time I sit still my mind wanders right back to you. Do you reread our emails? I do. Sometimes at night, I lay here and imagine you reading them and touching yourself. I keep dreaming about what it’s going to be like when I’m with you again.

In my favorite fantasy, you’re lying on the couch when I come home. You’re on your back, sleeping. I’m tired and sweaty and the only thing on my mind is washing the war off and relaxing, but you look so damn good asleep on the couch in your sexy little blue and white dress. I sneak up beside you and you stir, but don’t wake. I bend down to breathe you in. You move a little more, and the smell of your body causes a swelling in my pants that I need to share with you. You make me hard, Savannah.

I lean in and kiss you. You don’t kiss back at first, but after a few seconds, your lips part and you taste me. You run a hand around my neck and slide your fingers through my hair. We kiss more and as I pull my mouth from yours you bite at my bottom lip and moan in protest. “No.” A second later my mouth is on your neck. I kiss my way down to your collarbone and you offer yourself, vulnerable, sealed with a sigh and an “Oh God.” You gently open your eyes, and enjoy the pleasure on my face. You buck your hips and I feel your perky tits rub against my shoulder, your nipples are hard and I must have them in my hand. I slip a greedy hand down the front of your dress and am rewarded with a handful of the most perfect breasts I’ve ever felt. You cry out to me to run a fingertip over them. I’m eager to appease them, so I circle your perfect tits with that fingertip and you moan. “Oh God, Patrick.” I’m so hard that it hurts and when I hear you breathe my name, I grab your hand and place it on my erection. You massage my hardness and I have to let you know how good it feels.

“Good girl, Savannah. Just like that.”

I have greedy hands, Savannah, and with your sweet, sweet pussy within my reach, I can’t hold out any longer. I trace a slow line down your stomach and slip a hand up under the hem of your dress. Your body twitches and your legs begin to grow hotter around my hand. “Open up, Sexy,” I say. You give me only an inch more. “Wider,” I command this time.

“Yes, sir,” you say, and part your legs for me. You’re already damp. I give your swollen clit a rub through your underwear, but my hunger is too great. I want access to you and I’m not willing to wait a second longer. “Patrick!” You moan my name when I slide one finger in. “Oh, Fu-” You catch yourself before you swear when I put a second finger in your dripping pussy. You render my pants from my body. “Please, Patrick,” you say once my cock is out. I don’t need to answer you, I know what you want and I slide between your legs and thrust all of me inside of you. You wrap your legs around me and I pump into you as hard as I can. Your arms wrap around me as the ferocity of the love consumes you. We writhe in orgasm together and I fill you full of myself. I then collapse on top of you and you rub my back, peppering the top of my head with kisses.

“Looks like I woke you,” I say.

“It’s okay,” you respond. “I was expecting the mailman anyway.” We both laugh.

That’s it, Savannah. I had to share. This scene has been playing in my head for so long now. I’ve cum to it a hundred times. So . . . what are you wearing?

Christmas flew past and she sent him extra care packages filled with everything she could think of, and he had sent her a little diamond necklace. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. The desire and affection they felt for one another didn’t dissipate. Every time they exchanged love notes, he teased her until she was so hot for him Savannah thought she would explode. Over time, they got braver with each other and more comfortable and the exchanges got even more explicit.

“What are you wearing? I need to know. . . Can you do me a favor? Read my words and follow my directions.

Lay back, Savannah, and pretend I’m there with you. Put on a show for me. Pretend that I’m on the bed across from you, watching you, stroking my cock while you touch yourself. Move your ass back and forth, now run a delicate finger up your side and grab those perfect tits of yours. (I know I haven’t seen them, but I know they’re perfect, and soon I’ll have them in my mouth.) Let me hear you say my name, Savannah. Say, “Patrick. I need you.” Spread your legs and swirl those hips for me, Savannah. I want to see those tits I’ve dreamt about so many times. Take them out for me, rub your nipples, squeeze them hard. Good girl. Pull up your hem for me, enough so I can see your underwear.

I can see a dark patch on your sexy little satin panties. Pull them to the side for me, Savannah, I want to see that tight little hole of yours, what I’m going to be licking. Give that aching clit a little pet for me. Rub it for me, Savannah. Hard. Fast. Imagine it’s my tongue on you, licking you up and down, back to front. Now slip a finger in, just the tip. Now, deeper. Slowly. Deeper. Imagine how much more I’d fill you up, stretch you. Good girl. Squeeze those ripe tits of yours while I slide in and out of your sweet pussy. That’s it, Baby. Now work your clit again. Fast, Savannah. Cum for me, Honey. Cum for me like I was there inside of you right now. I’m gonna cum, Savannah. Cum with me inside of you.

Thanks, love. That was great. I hope you enjoyed it, because soon I’m going to be enjoying you.

Patrick had seduced her – wooed her – courted her with the hottest words she had ever read. And she had returned the favor. At first she had been hesitant, not very good at it. But she had gotten better with practice.

Today she wrote one and poured every ounce of lust she possessed into it.

Hey, Sexy. I’ve been thinking about you all day. I’ve read your emails and I do what you ask. I touch myself and I cum so hard. Now, do the same for me. Imagine that I’m there with you. I kneel at your feet and you spread your legs to make room for me. I’m brave, because this is a fantasy, right? Will you masturbate for me? Take your cock out and let me see it. You know I’ll love it. Now, stroke it for me. I can’t wait to see your face while you pleasure yourself. If you don’t mind, I’ll touch myself at the same time. We can cum together. Does it feel good? Pump it – slowly – up and down. If we were together, I’d lean over and kiss the tip – lick it a bit. You’ll have to teach me what you like. Maybe while you are sliding your hand up and down, I can help. I’d love to touch your balls, roll them a little bit and learn your body. My favorite thing is going to be watching your face and hearing your voice. I’ve enjoyed this so much, our sharing. But I want more. So cum for me, Patrick. Massage your cock and think of me. Say my name. Say, ‘Savannah, Baby.’ I can’t wait to hear you whisper my name. Cum for me, Patrick. If I were there with you I’d fit my mouth over the tip and love you while you came. And I’d swallow every drop.

I hope this excites you as much as it does me. Thank you for playing like this with me, Patrick. I think you have the best of me here. My talent lies with the written word. When we’re skin to skin, I won’t be that impressive, I promise you.

And she had hit send. It wasn’t long before she had received this response.

Sweet Savannah

Damn! I loved that. I don’t think I’ve ever cum so hard. Thank you. Now, I have a question for you and I want you to answer me immediately. What the hell did you mean by that last comment?

Savannah debated how to answer. Finally, she relented and told the truth, thinking it was better that he know what he was getting himself into. That way, he wouldn’t be disappointed later. The next email she sent had been short and to the point.

You know I’ve never had sex. And I can’t imagine that I will be any good at it. I’m going to disappoint you. There’s no doubt about that. And letting you down just scares me to death.

Patrick read the last email from Savannah and couldn’t believe his eyes. Hell, no. He knew she was a virgin. She had made that fact very clear. What was unacceptable to him was her insecurity and the worry he could feel in her words. “Hell, no,” he thought. It was time to settle this, because Patrick Heath O’Rourke was ready to go home – to Savannah.

Waiting for his reaction was nerve wracking, but it had come in a form she was not expecting. Her cell phone rang. “Hello?”

“Savannah, there is no way in hell you could ever disappoint me,” he sounded adamant.

“Patrick! You called me! On the phone!” she knew she sounded flustered. But she couldn’t help it. “I’m so glad to hear from you. How are you?” Even though she couldn’t see him, having his voice in her ear seemed extremely intimate. “This must be costing you a fortune!”

“It doesn’t matter about the cost. This is too important. I didn’t want to wait for that damn video chat to connect. Now, you listen to me. Okay?” His voice had dropped to an intimate level, and he spoke softly, sexily – telling her how much he wanted her. “I’m counting the hours before I can come home to you. I’m going to show you just how desirable you are.”

“I can’t wait, Patrick. And I’m so relieved to talk to you about this. We’ve wrote such steamy detailed fantasies and I’m just afraid that I won’t be able to live up to them. It would be sad if I’m a better lover on paper than in your bed.” Savannah poured all the emotion in the world into her words.

“You’re the only lover I want. We’re going to be perfect together. I promise. Do you trust me? Do you want me, Savannah?”

She didn’t make him wait a second longer. “Come home to me, Patrick. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms.”

“Well Darling, you don’t have to wait any longer; I’m leaving for home in a few hours. Email me your address and leave the porch light on. Ciara and I will be at your house for supper tomorrow.”

A thrilling feeling of near panic filled her. He was about to fly home!

Categories: 69 Shade Of Smut, Guest Blogger, Guest Post | 15 Comments

Mmmmm…Warm Apple Pie

Happy Monday 69ers! It’s that time again…Mia time. Now before you get the wrong impression, I’m not going to take a page out of MC Hammer’s book. Funny as it may seem, I won’t be doing the Running Man, and I certainly won’t be wearing Hammer Pants. Actually, Mia time involves warm apple pie. Yum. But it’s not just any apple pie. It’s American Pie.

 

(Yep, it’s a shameless ploy to get a good laugh.)

This month’s theme here at 69 Shades is ‘going back to school.’ Well, as a teen during the late ’90s, nothing shouts school to me more than American Pie. Why is that? Well, it could be that this particular movie was infamous while I was in my junior year. Or it could be the fact that this movie was funny, naughty, and totally relate-able.  But nope, those aren’t the reason why.

My reason comes in the form of my favorite movie line of all time. So you might be asking what line it is? Well, I’m sure you can imagine. But if not, check out the clip below.

(I might have chosen to use this clip for nefarious purpose. It was a fabulous excuse to giggle like a loon.)

Why in the world would I find, “And this one time at band camp, I stuck a flute up my pussy,” funny? Well, first of all, that line is just flipping hilarious. But more than that, I have a confession to make, a confession I’m quite proud of. So, I’m just going to get on with it. No beating around the bushes, no foreplay. Just the cold, hard facts. I, Mia Ashlinn, was a complete and total band geek in high school!

Now be nice. I can hear you guys whispering already.

“Whoa.”

“Wow.”

“Holy smokes!”

“I cannot believe it.”

“That Mia chick was a what?!?

Okay, okay. I might be getting a bit dramatic. Shoot, there’s no okay to it. I’m totally being dramatic. But hey, it’s me. If I’m not being dramatic, something or someone has invaded my body, and you should call for back up. Hmmm…I’m thinking firefighters. No, police men. No, doctors. Ah, who cares? Just get hot help. I mean good help. (wink, wink)

Oopsie, I’m getting side tracked. American Pie to Band Camp to Pussies to Men in Uniform? Well, I’m not quite as blog ADD as I usually am. Go me!

But anyway, I was a band geek in high school. I spent all my time with the other band geeks. We worked together. By work, I mean practiced. We played together. By play, I mean instruments…and other things. (snickers) That is my story, and I’m sticking to it. I was the good girl, but I know plenty of people who were naughty enough for me!

During those beautiful band days, I was at the happiest point of my school years. So whenever August rolls around, I think of band camp which leads me to this movie…and warm apple pie.

So now’s your turn, what is the happiest point of your school years?

Categories: 69 Shade Of Smut, Life, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , | 2 Comments

When authors attack

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Authors have been behaving badly lately, have you noticed? They’ve been caught creating fake online identities to praise themselves and trash others. Some have been busted for buying positive reviews for their books while one-starring and bad-mouthing the competition. One jilted author attacked an agent, IRL, and that is no laughing matter, that is plain scary.

Unfortunately, this sort of behavior is nothing new, and it certainly isn’t restricted to writers. Through the ages, politicians, reporters, artists, academics, companies, whole governments have deployed immoral and unethical tactics to promote themselves, demote others, conceal the truth, bend it or rewrite it. Words carry immense power, as anyone ever moved, enraged, galvanized or consoled by them will tell you. They are a vehicle for truth, lies, change and unrest. And rarely something you can overlook when they are aimed straight at you.

When my debut with Ellora’s Cave released, I had no idea what sort of reviews it would garner, if any. EC has a rating system for registered users. And what was the first rating Alex Rising received and fast? An anonymous two stars out of five, meaning, Could be better. No explanation as to what exactly Ms./Mr. Anonymous objected to. Fair enough, I thought. It wasn’t to their taste but hey, at least they gave it a try. Plus leaving a rating without elaborating is not very helpful to other readers, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt the book.

Sabotage, my friends screamed, but how would that work? It might discourage someone from buying my book but not make readers buy yours unless you had a sock puppet recommend, “For a great ménage, read Author X instead.” But I’m not going to lie. I felt bad that was all that stood there for the longest time until a reader voiced their opinion, then a review site, then more readers.

All I could hope for was that most readers felt like I do. I’ve disagreed with reviews so many times, I’ve stopped paying too much attention to them, unless all of them state the book is seriously flawed on some elemental level, e.g. so poorly edited it’s distracting. Taste is a subjective issue. Online reviews are for the most part someone’s personal opinion. But in the light of all that has been revealed lately, are professional, seemingly more objective sites and reviewers any more trustworthy than the anonymous rave or rant?

Bottom line: Do reviews matter? Do you trust them or question them? What influences your decision to buy a book, especially if it’s a new to you author? Is it the

Blurb
Cover
Excerpt/Teasers
(Sub-)Genre/Subject matter
Book length
Buzz
Word of mouth/Recommendations
Reviews
Awards
Ranking
Price
Discount/Offer
Other (what?)

A new to just about everyone author would love to know, so please have your say in comments.

P.S. If there is one thing I would like to ask of everyone posting reviews, it’s this: Pls pls pls no spoilers, m’kay? No. Spoilers. At least alert your fellow readers to the fact you’re about to dish out, m’kay? M’kay. Smexy Sunday. And thanks for playing.

Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , | 18 Comments

Vacation, here I come!!!

Norway Fjord in FebruaryI’m exceptionally excited to tell you all that I’m going on vacation. Okay, it’s not until the beginning of November, but I’m so excited I can hardly wait. We’re going to Tahoe. Okay, yes, I was just there in May. So really, what’s so exciting about going to a place I’ve been to many times before and that I visited only three months ago? Well, it’s because this is the first vacation my husband and I have taken all by ourselves in thirteen years. Yes, THIRTEEN! It’s way overdue. It’s not like we haven’t gone on vacation at all. But it’s always to visit family or friends. Or we’ve gone on vacation with other couples. Really, we’ve been to Norway twice, Germany once, to Hawaii a ton of times, Palm Springs, Las Vegas, Sedona, Altanta, Hiltonhead, and Tahoe. And I’m sure there are some places I’ve forgotten, too. And being with family and friends is great! I’m not knocking that. I love visiting our family on both sides of the Atlantic and they always take such great care of us. But this time it’ll be just the two of us. Wow. It’ll be like a second honeymoon. I wonder if we’ll even have anything to talk about. Okay, just kidding. We’ve got a one-bedroom condo in a five-star resort up on the ridge overlooking Lake Tahoe. My wonderful sister found it for us through her timeshare. We’re going to do some hiking if there’s no snow on the ground. And some skiing if there is. A little gambling and Montblue 99 cent margaritas, here we come!  And I will do some writing as well on the new Berkley book. And I’m sure we’ll be doing some…other fun things, too!

So, tell me when was the last you went on vacation with just you and your little honey?

I’ll be thinking of all of you in November when I’m in Tahoe. Oh, in fact, I’ll have to blog from there, too! But right now, I’ve got to rush to the couch (or out in the atrium if the sun is shining) and write my 2500 words of The Boss’s Daughter. Maybe I can even do 3500 like I did yesterday! The Boss’s Daughter, West Coast Hotwifing Book 3, will be out at the beginning of October! Hah, I’ll be talking about it the next time on the 69 Smut blog!

For an excerpt of my latest release, Twisted By Love, Reincarnation Tales Book 1, please pop over to my blog, http://www.jasminehaynes.blogspot.com. The story is available now on, KoboKindle, Nook, All Romance, and Smashwords.

Categories: 69 Shade Of Smut, Books | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Writing and Battery Usage

Hubby said, “I can tell when you’re writing the sex scenes. We go through a lot of batteries.”

Um, yep, it’s true. Writing sex scenes has an added benefit for me. I get really *warm* when I’m in the middle of a smutty scene.

Some authors say they can write bedroom scenes without getting emotionally involved. I can’t imagine how unfulfilling that would be. Jeez, half the time I’m writing I’m all tingly and juiced up. I love it!

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Image is a free download from FreeDigitalPhotos.net

And that’s where the battery usage comes in. I know, Too Much Information, right? But I’m usually writing at home alone during the day, so finding Kick and dragging him into a private corner is just not an option. I have to find a substitute!

When I’m reading sexy romances written by other authors, I love it when I get that same feeling. The “OhMyGosh – ICan’tWait” steals over me and woop-woop, there I go!

This snippet is where I stopped writing yesterday. Right in the middle of the scene, I was imagining what would come next. It promised to be so dang sexy, I had to stop ’cause ICan’tWait happened again.

This is from my work in progress, a male/male erotic romance Hot Springs Temptation, Book 1 of the Temptation Ranch Series. (It’s unedited, of course.)

Brace paced the kitchen, his bare feet slapping along the hardwood floor. The scavenger hunt started three hours ago. It was ten already. Where the hell was he?

A tapping at the door sent his heart racing. Ethan. Brace walked into the mudroom and opened the door. “Hey.”

He stepped inside. “Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t leave the thing tonight.”

Brace nodded. “I’m not sure how much time we have. Zeke’s probably right behind you.”

Ethan caught his gaze and smiled. “I just saw your brother and Wyatt riding off.”

At the same moment that Brace’s sense of urgency lifted, his belly tightened with desire. Ethan, in a T-shirt and shorts, had never looked sexier. He seemed to fit into the house too damn well.

He looked past Brace. “Give me a tour? I’ve been staring at this cowboy mansion wondering what it looked like inside.”

“Sure. C’mon in.” He pointed down. “Shoes off, though. Darla’d kill me if we got dirt on her floors.”

“Brace.” Ethan toed off his flip flops. “I want to thank you for stocking the cabins—my cabin—with food.”

A flash of heat warmed his chest and he nodded. “Welcome.”

He stepped closer and set his palm on Brace’s arm.

Where he touched, tingling started and spread.

“I know you did it for me.” He stared into Brace’s eyes, his hazel irises sparkling in the bright kitchen light. “It meant a lot that you did that. That you thought of me.” His voice came out choked.

Brace put his hands on Ethan’s arms, wanting to pull him close, to silence him with a kiss. But the need to connect with him grew too strong. “I think of you. Probably too often.”

A slow smile tugged at Ethan’s lips. “I got under your skin, huh?”

“Damn.” Why couldn’t he resist? He pulled him in, spread his legs on each side of Ethan’s and pressed his hard cock against the tent in the counselor’s shorts. When his lips touched Ethan’s, every nerve in his body fired a live round.

Ethan’s tongue met his for a teasing lap.

Brace sucked and Ethan’s barbell dragged over their joined lips. He played with the jewelry, tasting and flicking it. The memory if the ball pressing into his cock slit made his hips jerk and a spurt of pre-cum moisten his head.

Ethan slowed the kiss. “Tour first? Then hot, amazing sex?”

All Brace’s air sucked out of his lungs. Yeah, he’d be sliding his cock into this man’s anus, pumping until they both went crazy and came like thoroughbreds.

The counselor grinned and rubbed his cock across Brace’s hips. “I can see by the look in your eyes you may not agree with my agenda.”

One side of his mouth quirked. “Whatever you want, hotshot.” He stepped back and glanced around the kitchen. “Self explanatory?”

“Uh huh. Big enough for a dozen people.”

“Yup. We do it big here.”

Ethan’s eyes dropped to the bulge behind his fly. “That’s for damn sure.”

He grinned, but when Ethan clicked his tongue barbell against his teeth, a shiver of lust rambled through him. “C’mon. We’re gonna need to make this fast.”

“Yes, it’ll be fast. When I get you naked, I want it hard and fast. I wanna feel you all the way inside me, pumping that big cock into my ass like you have to fuck me or die.”

“Jesus Christ.” Brace grabbed him from behind, pulling him tight, his cock jerking as he pressed against Ethan’s hard, round ass. “You want the fucking tour or not?”

Ethan reached back and gripped Brace’s ass cheeks and tugged him closer. “I want the fucking tour. Then I want a fucking.” He released him, turned to face him, and backed away. “But I want to build the sexual tension between us.”

“Damn near to bursting right now, Ethan.”

He grinned. “I know.” He turned and walked into the dining room.

Brace followed.

“Holy shit, this is awesome.” He trailed his fingers along the rustic wood table that could seat twenty-four. Looking down, he wiggled his toes into the huge antique rug that covered most of the floor. “This has got to be the most amazing Native American piece I’ve ever seen.”

“Commissioned by my grandfather to fit the room.”

Ethan turned slowly looking in each of the glass-front dark wood cabinets and at the paintings hanging on the dark paneling. “It’s like out of a movie.”

Brace shrugged. “It’s always been home.” He flinched. Damn. He hadn’t been thinking about the counselor’s rough history with his own home.

His hazel eyes caught Brace’s. “You’re lucky.” He pointed to the portraits of Brace’s parents. “Are those your folks?”

He nodded, not wanting to spoil the sensual mood by bringing up their deaths.

“Zeke told me.” That’s all Ethan said before he walked into the next room.

Relief flowed through him as he caught up to the counselor.

“Fancy.” Ethan caressed the soft leather on one of the couches.

“Formal. Hardly ever used any more.”

He stepped onto the hearth of the huge stone fireplace, the opening was nearly as tall as he was. “You could roast a whole cow in here.”

Brace laughed. “Haven’t tried it, but it probably could be done.”

“There’s no TV.” He walked to each of the full-length portraits across the room. “These must be grandparents.”

“Yeah.” His grandfather stood in full cowboy gear, his horse beside him. His grandmother smiled calmly in her floor-length dress. “They built the place.”

Ethan glanced back and forth between his grandfather’s face and Brace’s. “You’re the spit and image.”

He nodded, a wave of nostalgia taking over as he recalled learning to ride with the help of his grandfather.

Ethan’s footsteps padded toward him on the carpet. “When do you get your portrait painted?”

Brace shrugged. “Hell, it’s about thirty years too soon to think of that.”

The counselor stared into his eyes. “Do you want kids?”

Brace jerked back and frowned. He’d been relieved when Ethan hadn’t wanted to talk about his parents’ deaths. Now he wanted to dive into his personal life head first?

Ethan shook his head. “I’m not trying to pry. It’s just that…” He gestured around him. “After you and Zeke are gone, will there be anyone to take over?”

He huffed out a long breath. “I don’t think about it much.” Actually, he did. More than he cared to admit to himself.

“Okay. New subject. Where’s your man cave?”

He nodded his head toward the back of the house and led Ethan to his office.

As Ethan stepped into the room, he pointed toward the big television. “There it is. Where rodeo magic happens.”

Brace chuckled. “Baseball’s my sport.”

“Oh yeah?” Ethan wandered through the office, examining paintings that hung on the dark wood walls, making an attempt to lift Brace’s grandfather’s giant desk, then finally sitting in his leather swivel chair. “I can feel the power in this room.”

Brace shook his head. “The power to work sixteen hour days, seven days a week.” The thought made him tired and he sat on the arm of the couch. “No vacations. No holidays. Just work.” He sounded pathetic, even to himself.

Leaning forward in the chair, Ethan set his palms on the desk, just as Brace had done a hundred times. The site was oddly stirring. “Why don’t you have a foreman?”

He dropped his head. His brother, Zeke, had harassed him about that for years after their parents died. He’d finally told him the truth. Zeke had laughed at first, thinking Brace was joking. He’d been serious. Brace felt responsible for his parents’ death. No amount of talking it out with Zeke had changed his mind, so his brother had dropped the subject.

“I need to work the land myself. It’s something I felt I had to do after we lost our parents.” It was his self-inflicted punishment. His penance.

The desk chair squeaked softly and Ethan stalked slowly toward him. “I’d like to talk about it sometime. If you want.” He stopped right in front of Brace, the counselor’s knees bumping into Brace’s. “But right now…” He licked his lips. “I need to taste every inch of you.”

Brace looked past Ethan to his office door. No one was in the house, but Zeke could come in any time. A wicked burst of Dom overtook him and he wanted to possess this man, needed to show him how fucking turned on he was, how he’d make his body rattle with his orgasms.

“Close the door, boy.”

********

I need to know that I’m not the only one. Do you ever get *warm* while reading (or writing) sex scenes? Which ones are your favorites?

Have a smutty, sexy day!
Randi “Rode Hard and Put Up Satisfied”
RandiAlexander.com
Turn Up the Heat, Chase and Seduction, and Her Cowboy Stud are available at The Wild Rose Press and Amazon
Cowboy Bad Boys is available in digital format at Smashwords and Amazon
and in paperback from Createspace and at Amazon
Cowboy Lust is available in paperback and Kindle format at Amazon

Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 15 Comments

If Cowboys of the Old West Could Text

These days no one is without their phone. We’ve got tendonitis of the thumbs. Half the time, our words come out as text abbreviations—OMG, FML, WTF. So what if cowboys of the Old West could have texted? What would they have to say and what funny abbreviations might fit their lives?

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Here are a few:

FOMH—Fell Off My Horse. Might be used after a hard night spent at the saloon or when a pissed off enemy takes a wild shot at you

LSHFOMH—Laughing So Hard Fell Off My Horse

JMS—Jangles My Spurs—the modern equivalent of OMG

HACH—Hot as a Cat House—might refer to the Texas heat or a very desirable painted lady

SYA—Shoot Your Ass—The enemy gets one warning

D—Draw. And by DRAW, I don’t mean play a game of Pictionary or draw our your phone to have another texting conversation.

RAUW—Rank As an Un-bathed Whore—for the foulest of smells

HETEAP—Hungry Enough to Eat a Possum

What texts could you come up with? I’d love to hear from you!

I’ll leave you with a bit of dialogue from my sexy new cowboy ménage WILD WILD HEARTS!

excerpt from WILD WILD HEARTS http://bit.ly/PYlJ7m

“What the hell was that, Nolan?”

Stopping, he waited for his cousin to catch up. Together they strode across the cracked mud street and to the hitching post where they’d tethered their horses.

“Trouble,” he answered.

Drew released a low laugh. “When the hell isn’t a Hollis boy up to his ass crack in trouble? You gonna fill me in so next time I can come prepared?”

Nolan whirled on him. “What the hell are you doin’ in a place like that anyhow?”

Drew tugged his hat brim. “What are you?”

“I’m older.”

“By fourteen days.”

“All right, neither of us ought to be in that saloon. Our family values say otherwise.”

“But you were, and you had some issue with the man who sells—”

“Jesus! Shut the hell up before the whole town hears you. Who knows what other Hollis men lurk in the darkness.” Nolan barely controlled the volume of his voice as panic set in.

Drew fell silent as he jerked the rope free and led his horse away from the others. Without another word, he slipped into the saddle and pointed his horse toward home.

Nolan watched his retreating back for a moment. “Fuck.” He hurled his leg over his mount and spurred Bullseye after Drew.

Trotting beside him, Nolan fought to keep calm. He’d just assaulted a man in broad view, and that wouldn’t go unnoticed. The weasel wouldn’t fight fair, especially with the Jade Pair to lose. That meant they’d have to watch their backs—and those of their family members.

Eventually the family would hear about it. And he was still shaken over what he’d seen—was Sofia injured more than he’d guessed? Sometimes blows to the head meant the person wouldn’t live.

No, she was fine. Just a goose egg.

He battled to remain on the trail home with Drew, because his heart was back in that saloon with Sofia and Isaac.

Damn, he was in deeper than he thought. When a Hollis’s possessive nature burst forth, he was pretty much doomed to a church wedding.
Except, that could never happen for Nolan. His involvement with the Jade Pair was a dead end—a railroad track that came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the wilderness. But Nolan had no ability to turn around, did he? When he’d climbed into bed with Sofia and Isaac, he’d sent his heart barreling down the track, and there was no way to stop it.

How had it happened? Many times he’d heard about his parents falling in love at first sight, but that seemed farfetched to a young man.

It’s lust. Nothing more.

He needed to be the one to speak to his parents about this event. If they learned of it through another family member, Nolan would find himself knee-deep in manure for the rest of his life. He wasn’t about to be put on shit duty.

“Drew, will you listen to a story?”

The quiet rustle of horseflesh and leather was his only answer. After a long minute, Drew replied, “You know I will, cos.”

“That man I assaulted—”

“Tried to choke.”

A begrudging smile tilted the corner of Nolan’s lips. “Yeah. He has a couple working for him—”

“The Jade Pair? Holy harness, Nolan. You’re fooling around with them?”

Grinding his teeth, Nolan had to renew his personal vow never to strike another Hollis. He’d gotten into more than one tussle with his brothers and cousins, and his father had taken him to task about it a few years ago. Since then, Nolan had gotten a handle on his hot head. In fact, he was known as the quiet one.

In the past few days, he’d tossed away his promise to stay far from drink and women, as well as to keep his hands to himself. How quickly his dangerous, aggressive side had ripped through the fabric of his personal oath.

This is why Pa wished to ingrain these values in us.

But was it so wrong? His heart didn’t think so.

Pressing his lips into a fine line, he tried to find words to answer his cousin. Maybe the flat-out truth was best.

“No one knows this,” he began.

“They never do. Look at Graham—married in secret for weeks before he came forward with his bride.” Drew’s teeth flashed white in the moonlight with his grin.

Nolan snorted. “Well, that was a might different from this. I am fooling around with the Jade Pair—Sofia and Isaac. But it’s not what you think.”

“How can that be? You’ve been paying, right?”

“Just that once—”

“And you think you’re special because you were let into their bed without shelling out the coin the other times?”

Nolan swallowed, his throat tight. Actually, there had only been those two times. Could Drew be horribly, painfully right?

Silent, Nolan rode on, his horse drifting farther away from Drew’s. They crested a short ridge and hit a flat spot that would stretch for miles before they’d reach Hollis land.

Drew guided his horse alongside Nolan’s. “I’m sorry. Your news surprised me, is all.”

“With all honesty, it surprised me too.”

“You really have feelings for them?”

His stomach flipped. “Lord help me, I do.”

“What will come of it, cos?” Drew’s question held no trace of sarcasm. The sincerity of his tone made Nolan’s heart constrict with sadness.

“I don’t know. I’m afraid my heart is in it for the long haul, but circumstances are beyond my control.”

With that, he sank his spurs into Bullseye’s flanks and sent him racing toward the shadow of the ranch he called home. The family that he loved filled this valley—homesteads speckled the land. But an emptiness lived inside him at the realization that he had more to live for—and lose—in a dingy saloon.

Loneliness is a bitter tonic.

Em Petrova
~where words mean so much more~
http://www.empetrova.com

Categories: 69 Shade Of Smut, Books, Characters, Life | 4 Comments

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