Miranda's Rights - Available Today

She needs pain…she needs punishment…she needs him.

Jase Ralston gets hot under his very blue collar just thinking about his friend and neighbor, Miranda Carlucci. Yet she can’t possibly be interested—not when she could have champagne, caviar and her pick of Vegas high rollers.

The bruises change everything. She denies she’s in an abusive relationship, but his cop instincts won’t let him rest until he finds out the truth. When he follows her to a BDSM club and finds her writhing under a flogger’s stinging kiss, his Dom instincts kick in.

Jase takes command of the scene—and Miranda—at Club Creed. This is what she’s always wanted. Pleasure, pain…and rough-around-the-edges Jase. Yet after his domination transports her to a level of subspace she’s never known, he leaves her—unwilling to continue the scene.

Confusion gives way to hurt…then anger. He’s claimed her and Miranda wants more. Even if it means confronting Jase and making demands of her own.

Read the Excerpt -

“What the fuck is going on with you?”

“Nothing. I went out.” She stood in his living room, glancing at his couch, the window, anything but his face. Normally her bubbly personality had him laughing. At the moment, she seemed almost afraid. He had an infuriating idea of why. The thought of someone hurting her… He growled and jammed his hands into his pockets. He had the mounting need to slam his fist into the wall, scour the city for the piece of shit and show him a little payback. Any bastard who could hurt a woman deserved his ass beat.

Jase understood BDSM. Power and dominance went hand in hand with trust and devotion. He understood the high from pain play. He’d been in the scene long enough to know that the glimmer in Miranda’s blue eyes wasn’t from being taken to the brink and pushed over the edge. She’d been broken, and that wasn’t willing submission. “What has he done to you?”

Her head snapped up and her eyes narrowed. “Who?”

“Who? Christ, who do you think?” He stormed across the room and grasped her wrist.

She winced and tried to pull away. “Don’t.”

“Who is doing this to you?” He jerked back her sleeves. Angry red welts banded her delicate wrists. Deep purple and maroon bruises crisscrossed her porcelain flesh. Higher on her arm, four equally spaced marks bore the impression of someone squeezing her, restraining her. “Miranda, I see it all the time. I recognize an abused woman.”

“I’m not being abused!” She jerked her arm, yanking her wrist from his hands.

“That’s more than rough sex.”

“I’m not having sex either,” she snapped.

“And I’m not stupid. Are you going to tell me you did that—” he pointed to her wrists, “—to yourself?”

“Are you crazy?”

“No, I’m ready to go fucking ballistic.” He’d kill the bastard who put his hands on her. “I can help you.” He lowered his voice. “Please, let me take care of this, let me take care of you.” He heard the desperation in his voice but didn’t care. Actually that was the problem. He did care. Cared about her. Friendship? Fuck. Friendship would be easy. She was everything he found attractive in a woman—everything he wanted.

His cock was in a state of flux. Friendship wasn’t what simmered in his chest at night when he dreamed of her. Dreamed of handcuffing her to his headboard, blindfolding her and raining pleasure over her soft flesh. More than his next breath, he wanted to be the man she needed. He was the man she needed. Hell, he was half in love with her and they’d never even kissed.

She straightened, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin. “I don’t really want to talk about this.” She adjusted her sleeves. “Besides, I handled…the situation.”

“I’ve heard that before. Do you like getting the shit beat out of you?”

“You’re overreacting. I have a few bruises but not from what you think. I’m not seeing anyone…not seriously anyway, and I’m not being abused.”

He watched the walls go up as she hid behind the facade of a strong woman. She was strong but not against this. This wasn’t any form of love. Violent abuse caused the physical damage. Miranda needed a dominant man with strong hands, but one who wielded his power with her pleasure in mind.

Tumultuous emotions twisted in his gut like a knife. “Do you know how many women are killed each year by domestic violence?”

“Yes, I watch the news.” She stepped farther into the room. “If we’re having an interrogation, can I have a drink?” She sat on the couch and sagged into the cushion. She held up her wrist. “This is not domestic violence. My, um, purse twisted around my wrist and left a bruise.” She sighed and gave him a soft smile. “Besides, you’re the only man in my life.”

“I’m not the man in your life,” he said as he walked to the kitchen. If he was the man in her life, she wouldn’t be coming home in the middle of the night with another man’s scent clinging to her. She’d smell like sex because he’d be the one making love to her every night. With a growl, he grabbed two beers out of the fridge.

“Yes, you are, Jase. You’re my friend.”

He walked back to the living room and paused at the perimeter. Miranda curled into the couch cushions. Her eyes were closed and her mouth had softened. “You’re right, but I’m just your friend. I worry about you,” he said as he approached.

Her heavy lids parted. “You shouldn’t.” She took the beer from his outstretched hand and tipped the beverage to her lips. “I’m a big girl.”

No, she wasn’t. She had perfect round breasts, a trim tummy and lean thighs he imagined locked to his hips as he braced above her and fucked the hell out of her—no he’d make love to her. Rough and dirty. Wild and fast and slow and deep. Whether she was bound to his bed or sitting astride and riding his cock, Jase would be making love. Heat rushed from cock to balls to buttocks.

Christ, he needed to keep perspective. First he had to get her away from her dickhead boyfriend.

“So you want to tell me about your date?”

She adjusted on the couch and angled her body toward his. With her elbow braced on the back of the couch, she tucked her hair behind her ear then rested her head in her palm. “It wasn’t a date,” she said with a little chuckle. “Just more of an acquaintance.”

Great, she was fucking acquaintances. “Sleeping with strangers is dangerous.”

“Oh hell, Jase. Let it go. You’re making a broad assumption if you think I’m screwing strangers.”

“Come on, Miranda. Remember who you’re trying to bullshit.” She was involved with someone.

“I’m not saying I’m celibate.” She narrowed her eyes. “Neither are you. Don’t forget, I’ve been in Vegas two years. I know the city. I have an amazing job.” She smiled and laughed. “And I have good friends, including a wonderful, caring—” she wagged her brows, “—sexy, yet overprotective neighbor who doesn’t mind his own business.”

She yawned, and he decided to let the subject rest for the night. “Do you want to play pool tomorrow night at Jack’s?” Jack’s was off-Strip, a local’s-only pub with pizza, beer, pool and darts. There were also the usual casino attractions—slots, poker and a focus on blackjack—but small-scale without the glitz and glamour. Plus he’d keep her away from whoever she was seeing socially.

“Can’t.” She stretched and stood. “I need to get some sleep.”

Jase followed her to the door. He put his hand on her arm. Her skin was soft, smooth and tantalizing. A shiver raced up his spine. Wisps of her hair brushed his knuckles as he trailed his fingertips higher. She dropped her ear toward her shoulder and stepped away, but not before he saw the marks. Bruising around her neck. Breath caught in his throat along with the bitter taste of bile. His stomach roiled. Every muscle in his body burned to shake sense into Miranda and kill the fucker who hurt her.

“Are you in trouble?”

“No, Jase.”

“Would you tell me if you were?”

“No,” she said again. “Because it isn’t an issue.”

Her vague response unsettled him further.

“I can’t explain.” She opened the door. “Trust me.” She touched his arm, letting her fingers trail to his hand before falling away. “You wouldn’t understand.” She crossed the hall and he let her go.

As far as she was concerned, he’d let the incident go. But neither the cop in him nor the man that cared for her was going to let the matter rest. Fuck that.

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All Lycan's Eve - Available Today!

A misdirected email invitation is an opportunity for Callie Jones to shed her inhibitions and become a liberated woman looking for a night of wild, hot sex.
Kean Phelan, alpha male, expected a night of fun and fornication for himself and the males of his pack. A full moon brings out the animal for a night of rutting, which is why he’s invited escorts to entertain.
What happens when Kean realizes Callie isn’t one of his escorts…but his mate? Can he protect her, fight for her, and ultimately claim her once the pack discovers an outsider amongst them? 
Will Callie accept Kean and take her place as his mate?

Read the Excerpt - 

“Who are you? What are you?”

Kean handed her the dress. “You were the one who said you wanted the animal.” He growled and stepped closer.

“I didn’t realize that meant you were going to get hairy, growl, and bite!”

The growling and hair wasn’t really a problem. Did she really just think that? Of course it was a problem! A major fucking problem. Okay the fucking wasn’t a problem. The fucking happened to be incredible. Oh God, she’d lost her mind. She did want the animal. He certainly wasn’t human anymore. However, she didn’t trust him. He’d bitten her already. What would he do next? Chew off a leg? “Stay away from me.” When she’d hoped he’d want to eat her, she hadn’t meant literally.

“I’m a werewolf. What did you think I’d look like? I didn’t fully shift, Callie. That will happen when we join in the sacred bonding.”

“We’ve done all the bonding we’re going to and there was nothing sacred about it.” Although during her orgasm she could’ve sworn she’d seen the light. That was right before he bit her.

“The wolf inside hungers for his mate…I hunger for you.”

Callie stared. She could see him more clearly now. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to detect a weakness in his position. Kean blocked the exit, but there were still places she could maneuver to further move away from him. However, her body hummed in a frequency tuned to his. Thoughts, not her own, drifted through her mind. It seemed reasonable to assume he too felt the link between them. What she didn’t know was if he was a man— or beast.

Fear squeezed at her chest like a vise. She fumbled with the dress, pulled it over her head, and shimmied it down her body. Her hands shook. The after effects of her orgasm still tingled between her legs. The rest of her trembled with uncertainty.

Yellow eyes narrowed.

“Please don’t be afraid of me. I’m a man with a few special traits.”

She put her hand on her shoulder over the bite. “You’re covered with hair and you bit me!” Although she had to admit his tender licks and taken the pain away. However, she had no doubt he’d left a mark. His mark. Her skin puckered and swelled around the puncture wounds.

He took a step toward her.

Callie shrank against the wall. “I said stay away from me.” Her voice quavered, and her eyes darted around the room looking for escape.

Kean closed his eyes and inhaled though his nose and exhaled through his mouth. She could feel his calmness seeping into her, quieting the storm of adrenaline raging within. Just like before, she was unable to resist the soothing wash and embraced the comforting warmth. Her heart rate slowed, and her breathing mellowed. “What are you doing to me?” She heard his whispers inside her head.

His eyes opened. “You are my mate. Under Lycan law—“

Calmer now, she said, “No, we mated as in had sex.”

“You agreed. Lycan law—“

“Lycan law? What in the hell is Lycan law? I don’t care about Lycan law.” She stuffed her panties into her purse. “Under the laws of the socially accepted behavior of all cultures, you can’t bite people and expect them not to be pissed!“ She narrowed her eyes. “I could press charges, you know.” Yes, she was feeling much calmer. Rational thoughts overrode the wayward yearnings of a few minute before. Well, most of them. She was dressed and had her panties so she could leave and put this whole surreal event behind her.

“Callie, I knew who you were when you walked in tonight.”

“No you didn’t. Or we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You thought I was Cindy Jones, escort.”

“You’re right. But regardless of your name or your profession, I knew you were my mate.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You can imagine my relief to know you aren’t a paid participant.”

“Forgive me if relief isn’t what I feel.” Sex with a total stranger who morphed into a wild, sexual beast left her wanting again. And that was not going to happen. Her vibrator would just have to do. “I don’t know you. This is a one-night stand,” she shrieked.

“By coming here, you gave me no choice. I’ve claimed you for my pack to see.”

She stopped fumbling with her purse and stared at him. What had he said? It didn’t matter, she wasn’t sticking around to find out. Coming out to the cougar club for a night of fun and fornication had been a lark. She’d wanted to have a good time, not find herself with some werewolf that probably just gave her rabies. Lycan law, give her a break. Sex with Kean went far beyond her wildest fantasies. Truthfully, she’d never had rough sex, hadn’t really understood what it implied. Fine, so the rough part felt pretty good until it hurt. No, what she needed to do was get the hell out of the club.

Kean sniffed the air. “You can’t leave.”

“Why not?” She inched around the crates, making her way to the light under the door.

“Because I’m not the only one who can smell your fear.”

Smell her fear? She paused.

“Callie, you need to stay in here…with me. I can explain and then hopefully, you’ll accept me.”

“Not on your life.”

He took a step closer. “No, not my life, it would be yours.”

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Roped and Branded - Available Today

Hot cowboys and a feisty cowgirl in a sexy, erotic novella. 
Southern Texas is in the grips of a heat wave and DaniLee Hunter needs a distraction. The man she wants refuses to acknowledge she’s all grown up, but the sexy ranch hand Waco is more than willing for an erotic roll in the hay.

Everything in South Texas stings, bites,or prickles…including Cord Stiles. As foreman of the Iron H, he has enough to deal with—including his growing attraction for DaniLee. She’s wild and reckless—and impossible to ignore. It’s time she’s roped and branded…and he’s just the man to do it.

The stakes are high in a late-night poke-her game. Cord, Dani and Waco lay their cards on the table. Winner takes all.

Read the Excerpt - 

Dani sat next to Waco, facing him. A bottle of whiskey was between them on the table. Waco flipped over his card. Her head fell back and her seductive laughter slid over Cord’s skin, down his spine and into his dick—but she wasn’t flirting with him.

She stood from her barrel and straddled Waco’s lap. Her hips gyrated, just like she was fucking him. “You win. What do you want?”

Dani blocked Waco’s face with her body, so Cord couldn’t see his expression.

Waco wrapped a hand around the back of Dani’s neck and jerked her mouth to his. His other hand went to her hip, encouraging her to grind against him. Her silken blonde hair fell like a curtain to the middle of her back. Waco fisted his hand in her locks until his knuckles whitened.

Dani moaned and Cord walked into the house.

She glanced over her shoulder, then jumped from Waco’s lap. Damn, she was turned on. Her lips were red from kissing and her cheeks flushed with color.

Waco pushed back his stool. “I guess it’s time for me to go.”

Dani put her hand on his shoulder, silently asking him to stay. “The party’s over.” She glanced at the clock. “And it’s late.”

Cord crossed to the large table, grabbing a beer on his way and pulled up a barrel chair. “I’m not tired.”

“Are you sure you want to be here, Cord? Because Waco is staying.”

“So am I.” He could handle her with Waco—so long as she wasn’t shutting him out. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, but he spoke to Waco. “Are you up for another round?”

A devious smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. She shifted, sat on Waco’s lap while continuing to stare at Cord and said, “Oh yeah, he’s up for it.” She arched her back and leaned toward Cord. “Would you like him to prove it?”

Waco coughed and thumped his chest with his fist. “I’m not sure we’re all talking about playing cards.”

Dani pivoted and nipped at his lips. “We can still play cards…and have a good time.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Cord, I hope you remember how to have fun. I know it’s been a while.”

Cord tipped the beer to his lips. Hell, it’s been too long. He didn’t want to fuck around. He wanted Dani. Before he’d walked through the door, he’d known that tonight wouldn’t be about just them. When he’d discovered her in the barn, in a veiled way, she’d invited them both to this moment. “Let’s play.”

“This is my house, my life and you know how much I have wanted you to be here. But what happens tomorrow when you feel guilty?”

He’d rather deal with tomorrow—tomorrow. “Dani, I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”

“Waco?” She leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry, I promise you’ll feel good.”

He gripped her hips and chuckled. “Then I’m game. What are the stakes?”

Dani moved to the barrel between them and picked up the cards. She began to shuffle then paused and glanced to Cord. “Me.” She dealt each of them two cards, one face up. “Twenty-one is the game.”

“What are the rules?” Waco picked up his hole card.

“No rules.” Cord set his beer on the table.

“I might cheat.”

“Someone still wins,” Cord said. “We’re playing against Dani, not each other.”

She lifted her stare from her card to Cord. “And if I bust?”

“Then we both win.” He ran his finger along the lip of his beer bottle.

Dani visibly swallowed. “I recall a recent conversation we had in the barn.”

He hadn’t been able to think of much else. “Are you sure this is what you want?” His gut clenched. 

Now he’d crossed the line. He hoped to God, she didn’t want him to leave, because now that he was here, he intended to stay. While they were on the deck, she’d given him some advice. Sometimes you just have to take what you want. Damn the consequences.

“I’ve always know what I’ve wanted.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth then let it pop free. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to be here, with Waco, and fuck you.”

Waco whistled and tipped his beer to his lips. “I guess that ‘bout says it all.” He drank.

“Not quite.” She leaned into Waco and took the beer from his hand. “Do you want to kiss me?” She took a sip.

He closed the space between their faces. “No, I want to fuck you too.”

She smiled. “Then you have to get twenty-one.”

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