Friday, 12 December 2014

Em's Turn ~ My 12 Days of Christmas



Well it's that time of year
If I have to celebrate Christmas
I'm doing it my style
So enjoy!
Catch you all in the New Year






















Thursday, 11 December 2014

Guest Blogger ~ Peyton Brittany Clarke: Blood Bond

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Blurb
Time is running out for CIA Agent Colton McClain. Caught between two worlds, he must choose—his Ferae side or human; he can’t have both. Haunted by his own failures and his family's past, Colton refuses to follow their same path. His wife Lizzie and his husband Jarrod are caught in the middle. Threatened by the townspeople for having a marriage with two alpha males instead of the traditional alpha and beta, the clock is ticking on how long they can live together as a family. Add on the fact that one of them gets the Rut because of their unconventional relationship, all bets are off that they will maintain the happiness they so desire. But their love is strong; still, can it defeat Colton’s fears? He is the key. Now he must act.

General Excerpt
After having dropped Brody off with his parents, Lizzie was finally able to go home and prepare her husbands’ dinner. She sat down on the sofa in the family room and watched as her men as they ate their dinner and played their wretched video game. Not particularly hungry, she took small bites as she watched them hassle each other over their tactics.

“Hahaha! The cops are after you,” Jarrod mocked. He wore his baseball cap backward, causing a tendril of sandy blond hair to hang out of its side. Lean and muscular with a medium frame, his six-foot-two-inch build held no hint to the real physical strength he was able to muster.

Of the two, he was more introspective. Sometimes she often thought it was because he was a rogue. They were naturally quiet and solitary. But Colton was a rogue, too, and he was the exact opposite, at least when it came to the quiet part. A thinker, Jarrod did not move before planning the whole thing out. Unobtrusive, he could be standing beside someone in the room and the person would not even know that he was there, much less hear him come in. He was also the most secretive about what he did outside their home. Whenever she asked, he’d reply that it had nothing to do with their life here.

“Thanks to Jarrod’s wrangling, he messed up all of my stashes,” Colton complained. With hair the color of raw sienna, cut short with small waves tapering toward his neck, hollow, piercing, icy blue eyes, and a body like steel, she gave thanks every day that he was her alpha. A handful nonetheless, he was her handful, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“With all that happens in the world today, I would think you’d want to play something less violent.” She rolled her eyes.

“Yes, true, but they don’t make an interesting version of the Care Bears game,” Colton quipped, jerking at the game’s controller.

“Do they have a Divorce Court one?” she asked dryly.

“Not for the Ferae,” Colton replied, not looking up. “Honey, get me a beer?”

Jarrod laughed. “Good one. Baby, get me one too.” He mewled, making a sound reminiscent of a whimper. His was soft, low and endearing making her heart flutter.

The sound was a heartbreaker she could not not resist.

“I’m trying to eat. Why can’t you get it yourselves?” she said, standing up.

“Please?” Jarrod said, mewling again. His eyes grew wide, brows raised.

She sighed, her heart not allowing her to say no. “I only do this because I love you. Lest you think I support your habit of playing that stupid game, which encourages the worst behavior.”

Lizzie waited for a response but they ignored her, engulfed in the game once again.

“Baby, Alpha’s thirsty,” Colton whined.

She picked up her plate and took it into the kitchen with her.

“Two bottles of beer, coming up,” she said, flipping off the caps of the ice-cold brew. She sniffed it and smiled. It was a local brew. The flowery notes of Calendula struck her nose. The little perennial was one of the few substances that intoxicated their kind, because alcohol on its own, though pleasant tasting, did not.

She heard a chirp and frowned, wondering what it was. She heard it again. It came from behind her. She glanced at her bag. Curious, she reached inside. Picking up her cell phone, she looked at it. She had turned it off in the store, so why was it making noise now? She pressed the button on the side that unlocked it. The battery was dying.

She searched through the junk drawer in the kitchen, pulled out a cord, and plugged it in. She turned it on and saw that she had a text message.

Lizzie opened it. It’s been set. I’m sorry, I tried my best. Good luck.

She texted back. Are you sure?

She chewed her bottom lip as she awaited a response. It came soon enough. Yes. Tried everything. The rest is up to you.

A shiver went down her spine. She folded her arms and pressed them tightly against her.

“Where’s our beer?” Colton asked behind her.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, unplugging the cell and placing it back in her purse. She handed him the bottles.

He paused. “Something wrong?”

“No. Nothing at all.”

ADULT EXCERPT
She escorted him to the front door. Standing inches away from him, she heard his sound breathing.

“I wasn’t even trying hard. Poor baby, are you bored?” she whispered.

He leaned forward and sniffed the crook of her neck, making her spine tingle. His hot breath beaded on her skin. His body oozed with the potency and virility of a powerful alpha male while his spicy scent made her head spin and her mound wet.

“You think you can keep up?” she asked, her breaths jagged.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing.”

His piercing blue eyes constricted as he pulled her to him. His mouth claimed hers in a hot kiss, taking her breath away. Pulling away with a hiss, he nipped at the flesh on her neck and shoulder. Bathed in pleasure, her brain switched off as she pulled off his blazer and tossed it aside. He licked her lips and devoured her mouth as they stumbled over the furniture, peeling away layers of clothing.

Her back slammed against her bedroom door as he pressed his body against hers and traced her lips with his tongue. The more he toyed with her, the harder it was to control the primal desire inside her. If she let loose she knew she would hurt this citified ferae, so tamed by the normal humans in this world.

He grabbed her ass and lifted her, wrapping her legs around his hips, and thrust forward, grinding his hard crotch into her center. She grunted as he thrust again, pushing the breath out of her body. She unwrapped her legs and pushed him away and then turned him around and climbed onto his back. She wrapped one arm around his neck and the other around his chest and squeezed, swearing in their ancient tongue. She squeezed and squeezed, crushing his solar plexus, releasing all of the hormones for his mating desire. He writhed under her grip, nearly gasping from the lover’s embrace. He fell to the floor, causing her to land on her back.

He paused, caught his breath and grinned. “I thought so.” Scooping her up with one arm, he slung her over his shoulder.

Lizzie giggled with a dreamy, awesome pleasure he hadn’t experienced in years.

He tossed her onto the bed and ripped off her panties then spread her legs. He buried her face in her mound and devoured her center. Her ecstasy grew as his tongue darted in and out of her opening. She closed her eyes, trying to hold back the crest that was building to a climax, moaning and writhing from his touch. He unzipped his fly, freeing his thick, meaty cock. His rigid pole stood straight, its tip dripping with pre-cum.

She gasped as he sank into her, filling her completely. She moaned from the pleasure and the pain as he pounded her, causing her to keen with delight. He paused and looked into her eyes, before withdrawing and turning her over. Putting her on all fours, he penetrated once again, grabbing her by the scruff of her hair with one hand and holding her hip with the other.

She grunted with each thrust as his powerful ministration shook her and the bed. It had been a long time since any man had worked this good. He craned her back further, wedging his cock into the surface of her cervix and grinding. She moaned gutturally.

He released her hair and held her still as he nailed her sweet spot over and over again. She wailed her climax, again and again and again. Her arms and legs became weak as he continued to take her from behind. He spread her legs further apart, grunted as he pushed into her again. She came once again, her juices pouring all over him. His seemingly boundless stamina began to drain her.  The muscles in her center grew sore from the pressure of his rock-hard dick.

She knew an alpha of his status could go all night. And she just wasn’t ready. She tightened her mound. He paused and whimpered. He attempted to thrust once again. He didn’t want to come but she was going to make him. It was the only way she could survive the encounter and still being able to walk in the morning.

She tightened her muscles once again and then drew on them, milking him. He panted and contorted his expression in pain. He grew rigid and shrieked. The Taking was working. No ferae male liked or wanted the Taking, but often it was a female’s only defense from such an onslaught.

About Peyton
Peyton lives in Michigan where she dreams of summers that aren't so humid. She and her husband have been married for over a decade and he often lends a helping hand or opinion or two when she's writing a steamy love scene.

She loves to travel and hopes to make it to a romance writers convention sometime soon to meet her idols in the genre without getting too much "stalkage" in the process.

When she is not on the net, she is reading about the life of her latest "book boyfriend" from a favorite author or in the midst of creating her own.

If you'd like to to contact her, drop her an e-mail. She loves hearing from her fans and admirers.

Find Peyton Here

Guest Blogger ~ Charlie Richards: A Nip Of Good Cheer [A Loving Nip]

Coming Soon from eXtasy Books!
Release Date: December, 2014

BLURB:
Just a little Love Bite: When you ignore your senses, you can miss out on something pretty important.

Daystrum Striplan, second in command of the Esson vampire coven, knows he's been distracted the past month or two. He just can't figure out what tugs at his mind...or rather...whom. Every night Daystrum's dreams are plagued by a slender male figure with striking blue eyes. When he wakes, his fangs ache with the need to sink them into the man's column of tanned flesh and taste his blood. Unfortunately, Daystrum can't remember where or when--hell, even if--he's met the man in his dreams. Then, the evening of the coven Christmas party, Daystrum scents the object of his obsession, Korbin Harris. Unfortunately, he's not the only one who notices the human. Vargas, a leading member of a visiting coven also expresses his interest, and that vampire doesn't have to beg forgiveness for forgetting their first meeting...a meeting that Korbin remembers. Can Daystrum earn the forgiveness and affection of his wayward beloved?


Excerpt:
Daystrum followed the trail of Korbin’s scent. Rounding the corner, he spotted Korbin pacing back and forth in the hallways, three steps to the left, four steps to the right, and back again. Korbin ran a hand through his short, black hair, then rested his hand on the back of his neck and massaged the tendons there.

Even clearly agitated, Daystrum found Korbin the sexiest man he’d ever seen. However, he didn’t like seeing the young man so worked up. Unable to fight the need to soothe Korbin, Daystrum started toward him.

Korbin had just hung up the phone when Daystrum reached his side and rested a hand on his shoulder. The human jerked sideways, away from his touch, as he spun to face him. Daystrum lifted his hands in the universal easy does it signal.

“Crap, you startled me,” Korbin muttered. His cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink as he held his hand to his chest. “Wh-What are you doing here?”

“I apologize,” Daystrum told him. “I saw you slip away and wanted to make certain you were okay.” He paused, thinking quickly, before adding, “I could scent that you were a bit upset.” Waving a hand vaguely toward the phone Korbin held in his right hand. “Is everything okay?”

Licking his lips, Korbin’s gaze flicked from him to the wall toward the floor, back to his face again. “Uh, n-no,” he said, shifting nervously from foot to foot. “My friend Paul needs help.”

Korbin returned his free hand to his neck again and massaged the tendons again, clearly agitated. He lowered his gaze, then his cheeks flushed darker. As Daystrum watched, Korbin’s eyes widened just a bit, then he snapped his head back up. His scent intensified.

Daystrum’s mouth watered with the scent of Korbin’s blood rushing to his face, the life-giving force pounding through the veins of his neck. The heady scent called to Daystrum. He took a step forward and rested a hand on Korbin’s shoulder, his thumb rubbing over the Korbin’s pulse point.

“Korbin.” Daystrum whispered the human’s name, his body nearly vibrating with the need to pull the man into is arms and make him his own. “Your smell—”

“I need to go,” Korbin whispered, tension thrumming under Daystrum’s fingertips.

Daystrum lifted his other hand to cup Korbin’s jaw. “And I need to taste your lips,” he whispered. “Then I will take you anywhere you want to go.” Daystrum knew it was a bit heavy-handed, but with the scent of Korbin’s arousal and blood causing his own senses to sing, his need overruled his good sense.

Lowering his hold from his neck to Korbin’s back, Daystrum tugged Korbin closer as he lowered his head. With the hand Daystrum had on Korbin’s jaw, he tilted his human’s head up. First, Daystrum brushed his lips over Korbin’s upper lip, then his lower, then he sealed his mouth over Korbin’s.

Korbin let out a strangled gasp, which Daystrum took full advantage of. He thrust his tongue out, slipping it between Korbin’s lips. Swirling around Korbin’s mouth, Daystrum explored the other man, enjoying his honey flavor mixed with a hint of beer. He lapped and teased Korbin’s tongue, entreating him to join in exploration.

Finally, Korbin’s lips relaxed, and he brought his free hand up to grip the lapel of Daystrum’s jacket. Leaning into him, Korbin’s head tilted just a bit more and his tongue came out to lap against Daystrum’s tentatively. Humming in appreciation, Daystrum suckled gently on the appendage. Korbin whined, feeding Daystrum’s need.

Wanting to hear more of those noises, Daystrum scraped his fang lightly over Korbin’s tongue. Korbin rewarded him with a groan and a fisted—phone-filled—hand pressed against his hip. Daystrum growled into his mouth, liking his soon-to-be lover’s responses. He wanted more…and he sure as hell wanted Korbin as his own.

With that primal thought in mind, when Korbin lapped at his fang, Daystrum changed the angle just enough to once again scrape his fang across Korbin’s tongue. The prick, harder this time, drew blood. Daystrum tasted the couple of beads that welled up, one sweet burst of flavor after another.

My beloved! 

About Charlie:
Charlie is a happily married mother of many four-legged furry animals. Born in Lakeland, Florida, raised in Orchard Park, New York, and currently living in...heck, yeah! I'm in Trail, Oregon! Been here just a short while & still getting acclimated. The neighbors are awesome & the scenery wonderful... I'll try not to let it distract me from writing to much.

Charlie has seen her share of frigid winters, stifling hot summers, and dry windy days. You'll often find her curled up on the sofa with her laptop and a cup of tea... or if it's in the evening, a glass of red wine, letting her imagination create her next book.

FIND CHARLIE HERE

Wednesday, 10 December 2014

Guest Blogger ~ Lexi Ander: Keeping Faith

Holidays Traditions 
Around this time of year we all participate in traditions whether it’s an age old activity that has been handed down year after year such as searching for the perfect Christmas tree or baking that one special dish only made at this time of year. My sister puts her Christmas tree up on November 1st. I like making all kinds of candy that I can't possibly eat. (Well, except for the peanut brittle. I'll hoard that all to myself.) One of my brothers follows our parent's holiday traditions. I married and later converted, so we celebrate Chanukah with eight nights of feasting. My nieces and I will sit around and talk while crocheting scarves, hats, and gloves that we gift all the way through January.

Every family has an activity that is special to them whether it's gorging on holiday movies with a vat of caramel corn or volunteering at the local soup kitchen. The list is diverse and vast. What one of your favorite holiday traditions? Can fruitcake be a holiday tradition? I'm one of those crazy people who love fruitcake and every year I sample as many as I can looking for the perfect fruit cake. :)

While writing Keeping Faith, I wanted the Trent, Brock, and AJ to have a tradition all their own. They come from different backgrounds. They've had varying experiences that have had an impact on who they are and what they desire for their future. Plus, they are still growing together, learning what it means to become a family unit.

I probably should say, Keeping Faith is a holiday story that isn't… well… a typical holiday story. Most of the stories set in this time of year are cute and fun. Keeping Faith does have some of the sweet and fuzzy moments but then it shoots down the nail-biting road of, "Holy crap! What just happened?" Hopefully, you'll come out on the other side with a, "Wow," and an, "Aww". Hopefully. *grins*

~ Lexi

Publisher: Firborn Publishing, LLC
Release Date: November 28th, 2014
Genre: Action/Adventure, ADVISORY—Contains moderate violence, Category Length Novel, Comedy/Humor, Contemporary, Family Drama, Happy Ending, HEAT, Holiday-Winter, Male/Male, Ménage, Mystery/Suspense, Part of Series, Romance
Heat Level: 3 Flames


Blurb:
Trent, Brock, and AJ are excited to spend Christmas together in their new home but secrets and dark dealings by Trent's estranged father interrupt their plans. Brock is kidnapped and Trent and AJ scramble to find a way to get Brock back before it is too late.

Several months after Trent Harte was drafted into the NFL, he, AJ Barnes, and Brock Everette are settling into their new home in Miami. Christmas is approaching and they are excited to share another holiday season with each other. Unbeknownst to them, William Harte, Trent's estranged father double-crossed a deadly adversary and then disappeared. To draw William out of hiding, Trent becomes a target. In a horrible twist of fate, the kidnappers grab Brock instead leaving AJ and Trent scrambling to find a way get Brock back. Detectives believe Trent is responsible, and with each passing hour the likelihood of Brock returning home alive dwindles.

Brock traded his safety to ensure his lovers were out of harm's way. He would do it again even knowing he'd end up captured and restrained in a part of town that no one in their right mind would willingly go. The kidnappers are terrifying, but Brock is a fighter, holding onto hope with both hands. He must decide to either wait to be rescued or find a way to escape. Stuck between the wills of a ruthless assassin and an insane mob thug, something needs to happen soon or he'll never see Trent and AJ again.

Excerpt:
Trent puttered around the kitchen waiting impatiently for Brock and AJ to get their butts out of bed. This was Day One of their surprises for the holidays. On the six days counting down to Christmas they gave each other something small, either fun or serious, but always inexpensive. The tradition started the first year they were together in college. With their crazy schedules and limited time, Brock was the first one to hide gifts all over the apartment for them. Most of the presents were gag gifts, or just plain gross, but always meant to give them a laugh or two. Not without manners, unless Trent wanted his mother to track him down and string him up, he hesitantly reciprocated Brock's gesture even though he was unsure how his humor would be taken by his new lovers. He shouldn't have worried.

The first Christmas they went their separate ways for the holidays. AJ flew to Iowa. Trent stayed with his mother, making the obligatory day trip to his father's on Christmas day. That year he'd left his father's in an angry huff. Instead of returning to his mother's Trent went back home to the apartment to be alone only to discover Brock had never left.

Initially, Trent had been angry Brock hadn't told them he had nowhere to go, no family to visit and celebrate with. He'd cleverly deflected questions regarding his holiday travels without him or AJ catching on. Trent called AJ who made arrangements to fly home early and they spent the rest of the holiday break together.

The next year he and AJ joined Brock in the fun of leaving gifts around the apartment for each other, beginning the tradition of six days of surprises before Christmas Day. Trent looked forward to seeing the expressions on AJ's and Brock's faces when they opened what he got them. The holiday seasons with his father had been cold and sterile. His mother did her best to add warmth to the season and Trent loved her all the more for the effort but it didn't compare to what he had here with Brock and AJ, his real family.

Trent poured a cup of coffee, adding some cream and sugar before he wandered into the living room. In the corner stood a real conifer tree lending a piney scent to the room. He plugged in the tree lights and stepped back, watching the tree flicker to life as he sipped his coffee.

Brock had overruled them on what they would be decorating with. The theme was heavily the NFL Dolphins' team colors mixed with other homemade ornaments sent to them by AJ's sister, Susan. Strangely, Brock had latched on to them like they were made of gold. Trent sometimes wondered if Brock's love for the holiday came from the lack of holiday spirit as he grew up in foster care or because he remembered the holidays with his family before the tragedy.

The floorboards upstairs creaked and Trent's heart sped up with his rising excitement. He gulped his coffee too fast, scalding his tongue when Brock somehow skidded down the last four steps of the stairs, closely followed by AJ. Both were shirtless, wearing only PJ pants.

"Good morning, Trent," Brock said absently, not glancing at him but his gaze slowly travelled around the room, searching.

Trent smirked into his cup. AJ followed Brock into the room, looking behind and under things. There were like a couple of kids on an Easter egg hunt. Once the living room had been thoroughly searched, both AJ and Brock glanced back up the stairs at the same time, making Trent laugh aloud.



About Lexi:
Lexi has always been an avid reader, and at a young age started reading (secretly) her mother’s romances (the ones she was told not to touch). She was the only teenager she knew of who would be grounded from reading. Later, with a pencil and a note book, she wrote her own stories and shared them with friends because she loved to see their reactions. A Texas transplant, Lexi now kicks her boots up in the Midwest with her Yankee husband and her eighty-pound puppies named after vacuum cleaners.


Find Lexi Here

Guest Blogger ~Lisabet Sarai: Slush

Slush: A Holiday Romance
I’m celebrating the release of my first self-published book, Slush, a heartwarming M/F erotic romance story set in frigid Boston. It’s available now from Smashwords and Amazon, for only 99 cents! Coming soon to iTunes, Kobo, and B&N!

And if you want more holiday reading, I’ve got two free PDF stories—yours just for the asking. Silver Bells is a steamy M/F/M BDSM tale. Last Minute Gift is a M/M story, filled with humor, heat and heart. If you’d like a copy of either one, just email me HERE and let me know which one you want.


Blurb
Hot shot Boston lawyer Ian Pierce has everything but peace of mind. Christmas Eve finds him alone, wading through the slush to his BMW so he can drive back to his lonely luxury apartment. Then everything goes black. He awakens with an aching skull to find himself in a freezing, boarded-up garage occupied by a street kid. At first he blames the dodgy-looking youth for his troubles, but before long he realizes the raggedy girl who rescued him from the gutter may well be a Christmas angel in disguise.

Excerpt
He grasped her pointed little chin with his other hand to draw her closer. She didn’t resist. Now her face was mere inches away, her steel-gray eyes fixed on his. Her lips parted. Her breath came fast, in little sighing pants. He ached for that sweet, enticing mouth, an ache that drowned out the residual throbbing in his skull and even the swollen pulse of need in his groin.

He didn’t dare. He was afraid—afraid she’d pull away, afraid of screwing up something simple and perfect with his selfishness .

In the end, she made the first move, leaning toward him just enough to press her lips against his. That was enough. He released her hand to wrap his arms around her and clutch her to his chest, kissing her with a ferocity he couldn’t control. He needed this so badly—the warmth, the softness the illusion that someone cared...

Daisy returned his kiss with equal desperation. She opened to him without any prodding, sucking his tongue into her mouth to tangle with her own. Her fingernails scored his back even through the undershirt as she tried to pull him closer. She plunged her tongue into his mouth, nipped at the corner of his cold-chapped lips, moaned and writhed in his arms when he slid away to nuzzle the hollow under her ear.

“Ian...please...” All at once she broke their embrace. With one fluid movement, she dragged her tee shirt over her head, baring modest but flawless breasts topped with cranberry-red nipples. She didn’t say anything further, just held his gaze as she hiked up her buttocks and rolled the knit long-johns down over her creamy thighs. A gust of female musk rose from the blond tangle hiding her pussy, masking the scents of charred wood, diesel and rot.   

In two breaths, Ian’s half-erect penis swelled to full hardness. Daisy lay back on the blanket with her knees raised and her moist sex open to his view, tempting him. He yearned to launch his body onto hers, to mash those luscious little tits against his chest and drive his cock into the hot, wet cleft that exuded such a heavenly fragrance. Something held him back, though. I don’t deserve her, he thought. She’s too young, too strong, too good... too good for a nasty, angry son of a bitch like me.

They remained motionless, eyes locked, for long seconds. Daisy licked her lips and spread her thighs wider. “Don’t you want me, Ian?” She gave him a mischievous grin. “The last chance I had to shower was yesterday morning, at the Y—do I smell bad?

“You smell delicious,” he replied, completely sincere. “But...”

“But what? It’s Christmas Eve. Let’s celebrate, while we can.”





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About Lisabet
Lisabet has decided celebrate the holidays by writing what’s in her heart. If it sells, great – but all she really wants to do is touch a few readers.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website, along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance, she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors.

Tuesday, 9 December 2014

Guest Blogger ~ Willow Brooke: Home for the Holiday’s—A Hoorah Christmas

Hey everyone and thank you so much to N.J. Nielsen for inviting me to visit! With the holidays approaching, I want to take time out to bring attention to our men and women in uniform who won’t be sitting in front of a Christmas tree with their loved ones. Instead, they will be in a dirty tent, in the middle of God knows where, doing their job to give us yet another blessed day with our loved ones. They go without a huge buffet of food and settle for a MRE. They sacrifice sleep, food, comforts, and being with the people they love year after year. Please take a moment and be thankful, say a prayer, and know that they’ve got this shit! Cherish your loved ones, and celebrate not only for you, but for all of our soldiers also. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!


Blurb:
Willow Brooke was born in Northern California and has moved around frequently, currently settling in Colorado. She has three children that are the light of her life and two dogs that insist on taking up half the bed at night. 

When her nose isn’t stuck in a book or her fingers flying away at her computer, Willow loves spontaneously taking off to find an adventure of her own. Whether it be fishing, riding horses or quads, or walking the streets of the city to the local shops and concerts, the world is her entertainment. She is a laid back, take it as it comes and roll with the times kind of girl who knows how to find humor in just about anything. 

So take a seat, hold on tight, and let her take you for one hell of a ride!

Excerpt:
“Ssshhh. It’s going to be okay, sugar. Sit right here for a minute and let me look at Bandit.” She nodded, the streams streaking down her little pink cheeks. Vince reached over and soothed the horse, talking softly. “Easy, boy. That’s it. You took a pretty good jolt, didn’t ya?” He examined the scratches on the horse’s head and noted a few stitches would probably be needed to seal the wound. When he reached for Bandit’s front leg, the horse whinnied. “Whoa, boy. Let me look.” The horse’s leg didn’t appear to be broke, but it’d need x-rayed and treated just the same. Vince pulled out his cell phone and punched a few numbers, sighing in relief when Dave Mars answered. Dave was Doc Mar’s oldest son and had become one of the best vets in Justice for livestock. He quickly greeted him and explained the situation, relieved that Dave was able to come right over. When he hung up, Vince turned back to a still sobbing little girl and smiled. “That was Dave Mars. He’s on his way over to take a look at Bandit. Everything’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. Why don’t you run back to the house and let them know you aren’t hurt, okay?”

“‘Kay. You won’t leave Bandit alone, will you?” She petted the side of Bandit’s neck, the horse nuzzling her little hand in reassurance. 

“No, baby, I won’t leave him alone.”

Heather leaned down and kissed Bandit’s nose, careful not to get near the gash on the horse’s cheek. He looked up at her and rubbed her cheek, his concern for her evident. The animal was more worried about her than the wounds it had. Heather reluctantly stood and stared back toward the house, thanking Vince for helping. “I’ll take Majesty and unsaddle her.”

“Thank you, Heather. You are a very big girl. Once Bandit is patched up you can come out to the barn and say goodnight.”

“‘Kay.” Heather mounted Majesty and walked her back toward the barn, her little sobs fading in the distance. Mac trotted behind them as their own personal bodyguard, intent on seeing her home safe. He was a soldier through and through. 

Vince sat down next to Bandit in an attempt to keep the horse still until the vet got there. If he were to try to stand, it’d only hurt him more. His wait wasn’t long. He heard the sound of a truck pulling up the drive and watched it enter the gate into the pasture, coming toward them. Bandit started to squirm but Vince held his bridle and continued talking to him, relieved when the truck stopped a good distance away. When the driver’s side door opened, Vince gasped. 

Strolling toward him carrying a large medical bag was the Mar’s son he’d secretly fantasized about since the night he’d met him. He'd been dating Nathan, Dave’s brother, for quite some time now but he couldn’t help but drool over the thought of Dave. The two were similar in looks and build, but a roughness in Dave’s icy blue eyes called to Vince in his dreams. He’d never admitted his attraction to himself much less anyone else, but damn if he could deny it now. 

Those muscular long legs strode toward him, his broad muscular shoulders still visible through the thick Carhartt jacket he wore.  Vince tried to chastise himself for looking, but it was undeniable.  Visions of being the meat to a Mars sandwich floated through his mind, twitching his dick to life. 

As Vince’s eyes finally rose to meet Dave’s, he almost fainted.  Dave’s heated gaze stared back at him, melting him from the inside out.  Vince broke out in a sweat.  His palms grew sweaty and his mouth dried out, unable to form a coherent thought.  Dave sat his bag down beside them and kneeled, never breaking eye contact.  A taunting little grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, his eyes still raking up and down Vince and lingered on the growing bulge in his jeans.  He cleared his throat, turning his attention to Bandit.  “Looks like he fell pretty hard.” 

It took Vince a full minute to regain his composure and drag his eyes from Dave’s crotch.  Yeah, it looks really hard, he thought to himself.  Dave’s eyes flashed knowingly even as he proceeded to evaluate Bandit’s condition.

About Willow:
Willow Brooke was born in Northern California and has moved around frequently, currently settling in Colorado. She has three children that are the light of her life and two dogs that insist on taking up half the bed at night.

When her nose isn’t stuck in a book or her fingers flying away at her computer, Willow loves spontaneously taking off to find an adventure of her own. Whether it be fishing, riding horses or quads, or walking the streets of the city to the local shops and concerts, the world is her entertainment. She is a laid back, take it as it comes and roll with the times kind of girl who knows how to find humor in just about anything.

So take a seat, hold on tight, and let her take you for one hell of a ride!

Find Willow Here