The last thing he wanted...

Was what he needed most.


Available in print & eBook at The Wild Rose Press

Six agonizing months after a slug collapsed his lung, Sergeant Justin Harrison manages to return to the one place where he shines—the San Diego homicide division. Nothing will stand in the way of proving he is fit for active duty. Especially not the long-legged brunette who just stumbled into his crime scene.

Photographer Paige Conroy spent years hiding from her past. Then a late night telephone call brings it crashing back. An old friend is in town and needs her help. When she arrives at his hotel room four hours later, he's dead. Suddenly, she's the target of a madman, and Paige must turn to Sergeant Harrison for protection.

But who is the bigger threat to her... the faceless assailant she fears will steal her life or the dark-eyed detective she knows could steal her heart?


Her hand reached out for him, settled lightly against his left side, just below his sidearm. "What about you, Justin? Do you know, too? Is that what happened to you?"

Her words splintered through him. He swore softly and stepped back, forcing her to drop her hand. "That doesn't matter now."

"I think it does," she persisted, her eyes dark and churning with emotion. "I think it matters a great deal."

What could he say to her that wouldn't add to the fear already churning through her? "Paige, please," he said, attempting to turn the conversation around. "We need to discuss getting you out of here."

"I'm not leaving. I won't be driven from my own home."

"You shouldn't be alone."

She lifted her chin, determined to show him strength even while her hands shook. "I'll be fine."

Frustration wound deeper. He rolled his shoulder where his muscles knotted painfully. "Listen to me-"

"You aren't going to tell me are you?"

Justin set his jaw.

"Why not?"

Because she mattered to him. Because the truth about what happened to him six months ago would hurt her, push her away and he didn't want that. Not when he ached to draw her back into his arms, ached to have the sweet, potent taste of her swimming through his system again.Too late he realized his silence had the same effect on her. Already, her eyes were going cold and distant as she pulled her emotions tightly under control. Only this time, it wasn't fear she wanted to keep at bay, but him.

The knowledge stung. It didn't matter that by distancing herself from him - emotionally and physically - she was probably doing him a favor. He'd already spent enough time thinking of her when he should have been concentrating on his job. Recalling the scent of her, the feeling of rightness that filled him when he held her in his arms. When he was supposed to be reestablishing his place in the department.

He needed to remember that any further involvement with her would be a colossal mistake. That he couldn't afford the distraction Paige Conroy represented.

Still, the ache in his chest as she withdrew even further took him by surprise.

"Tempting as your offer is," she said quietly, as she eased across the room. "I won't go home with you. I can't sleep with you, Justin. You say it doesn't have to be that way, but you and I both know that's the way it would be." Her arms slid around her middle. Her gaze met his. "You're a risk I can't afford to take."

Not Without Risk

ISBN: 978-1601546340

Available in eBook & Print

Sarah Grimm
dangerously sexy suspense

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WARNING...X-RATED excerpt!

By the time he made it back to the bedroom he heard the water running, realizing Libby was in the shower. Logan hesitated, struggling between continuing into the bathroom and turning around to leave. His hard-on decided it for him. He kicked off his shoes while reaching for the hem to his shirt. He whipped it over his head, tossing it on her bed as he walked by.Without missing a move his hands moved to his belt, quickly unbuckling it and bringing the zipper down.

He reached the bathroom doorway, taking a moment to roll his jeans down and kick them away. He paused, enjoying the sight of Libby behind the frosted glass of the shower door. He could see enough to know she was rinsing her hair. Then she reached for the body wash, and with hungry eyes Logan watched her run the soapy puff over her neck and down her breasts. His penis jumped as though saying, what are you waiting for? What was he waiting for?

When her hands glided down to the dark curls between her legs his knees grew weak with desire. He opened the door. Libby’s hands halted. The invitation was in her eyes. Logan stepped into the stall and closed the door behind him. Words weren’t necessary. The look on her face told him Libby was already turned on. Her lips were parted, her eyes half closed. Her nipples were like rosy berries against her quivering breasts.

Streams of soap trailed down her body as it was rinsed away with the spray of water falling on her. His gaze dropped, taking in her shapely form, the glistening hair between her legs. He reached out, wrapping an arm around her tiny waist and jerking her against him. Her head fell back, a sharp gasp escaping her. Logan swooped down and covered her mouth with his. That was all it took for the passion to erupt between them. And they were kissing like it was their first, their last. Sounds of mutual pleasure filled the room as their tongues battled in a dance as old as time.

Logan thrust his hips, his full erection jabbing between Libby’s quivering thighs. His hands closed over her breasts, squeezing gently. But it was Libby’s gentle hands cupping his balls that pushed him over the edge. A fire of need fueled his blood with a gut-wrenching need. His hands moved to Libby’s waist and he pushed her away. Their eyes met. They were both gasping for breath. Then Logan flipped her around and pushed her against the wall. Her gasp was a mixture of pleasure and surprise.

He could only imagine how the cool tile felt against her hot, wet flesh, her stimulated nipples. His hands caressed down her arms. He took hold of her wrists and slowly pulled her arms up until her palms were flush against the tile over her head. Logan leaned into her, his hard flesh eager to explore the soft folds of her buttocks. Libby cried out softly and tried to turn around, but he held her firmly in place.

His heart was pounding like a jackhammer and he leaned in close, running his open mouth along the side of her throat up to her ear. His teeth nibbled at her lobe as he whispered, “Am I hurting you?”

“God, no!” Libby gasped, shuddering wildly. As though to prove her point she thrust her bottom back into his erection, rotating her hips. A soft moan escaped her, a groan escaped him. Logan slowly released her wrists, confident now that she would remain where he wanted her. His hands trailed down her arms and shoulders, continuing down her sides and over her hips. Libby twitched, causing him to smile.


She nodded.

His hands glided smoothly around to the front of her, his fingers splaying over her flesh as they moved along. Ever so slowly his hands smoothed downward, between Libby’s thighs, then back up to the most intimate part of her. She quivered beneath his touch, gasping sharply when his fingers slipped inside her, teasing her, testing her. Driving her wild.


Her impassioned plea urged him to continue. Libby’s hips moved sensuously against his invading fingers, while his hips thrust against the satin softness of her bottom. A rhythm developed between them that escalated with every movement they made. Soon it wasn’t enough, Logan wanted more. His fingers slipped out of her.

Words weren’t needed. They each had the same needs and right now they wanted to consume each other. Libby spread her legs, arched her back and thrust her buttocks out, giving Logan the leverage he needed to enter her body from behind. He was rock-hard; it wasn’t difficult guiding his aching flesh past the welcoming gates of her slick pussy. One deep thrust and he was buried to the hilt inside her.

“Oh my God!” she cried out. “Logan…” A shudder racked Libby’s body, but she kept her arms against the wall over her head.

“Hell!” he exploded. She was tight, wet, and hot. And he was about to lose control. His hands slapped the wall above Libby’s head; he kept his body close against hers and began to plunge deeply, building up speed.

Libby turned her face sideways and Logan swooped down, kissing her hungrily. Her mouth opened to the invasion of his tongue as easily as her body accepted the penetration of his possession. He couldn’t stop the rolling blast of release spiraling through his body, but there were ways of slowing it down.

Logan forced himself to pull back and wait, until the urge to finish diminished. He owed it to Libby to see to her needs too. He brought one arm down, his hand moving between Libby’s body and the wall until he reached the swollen clit of her desire. It was hard and pulsing, and she nearly crumbled when his finger flicked over it. She trembled violently, gasping loudly as he played with her.


Buy Link
Tory Richards

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Shifters' Captive is now available at Samhain.

Animal attraction is the essence of their power…Magical Ménages, Book 1

Waitress Sherrie Stolz never thought she’d need her chatting-up skills to play along with a hot, sexy kidnapper who rants about were-animals and psychic possession. Then he proves his story by changing into a wolf before her eyes.

Human contact never interested John Walker, but his mission is desperate. The pack seer insists Sherrie is the only one who can save his people from a rash of mysterious comas. His connection with Sherrie is instant, powerful and beyond rational explanation. And then a third piece of the puzzle enters the picture.

Grant Perron follows his instincts only to find his prize in the hands of his rival. He’s poised for battle—until he learns his panther shifter clan suffers the same fate as John’s pack. But there’s more. When the three of them touch, the primal, erotic power surge swells like the waves of an earthquake.

Sherrie’s hands—and bed—are suddenly full, figuring out how to manage two snarling alpha males without giving in to the urge to knock their heads together. And channel her new-found power before a villain uses it to destroy them all…


Sherrie’s body vibrated like a violin string tuned too tight, and the desire her interlude with John had slaked began to swell again. She felt as if her body was one raw, pulsing sexual nerve, responding to these men with a mind of its own.

“There’s a network of caves near the peak. We’ll head up there,” Perron announced as he pulled his hands from behind his back and rubbed his wrists.

John grimaced at the other man’s arrogant tone, but held his tongue. He glanced at Sherrie.

She offered him a smile. Locks of his dark hair had fallen over his forehead and she longed to brush them back and kiss him. A fantasy of doing this while Perron watched flashed in her mind, and heat flooded her body. She pictured him, still tied to the chair, erection growing, as she and John fondled and kissed in front of him. He would groan and shift as they stripped and fell on the bed in a tangle of arms and legs. She’d ride John’s cock, breasts bouncing, and meet Perron’s hungry gaze, taunting him with a smile.

Swallowing, she banished her wayward thoughts and darted a glance at the two men, afraid they could read her mind. Perron looked back at her and grinned. Maybe he could see into her head—a dream had brought him to her side.

His eyes skimmed over her as if she was still naked, and her nipples tightened. The ropes fell away from his body, and he rose from the chair, his cock bobbing before him.

Sherrie turned to the bed and searched for something to cover his groin. She flung the sleeping bag at him. “Don’t you carry clothes with you when you change?”

“No.” The men answered in unison then exchanged a cold-eyed stare.

“Must make for some awkward moments when you turn back into human form.”

Grant let the sleeping bag drop from his hand and stalked across the floor with catlike grace to stop in front of Sherrie. John was right behind him, hackles bristling and eyes narrowed. He looked ready to attack if the other man so much as touched her.

“So you’ve never had a psychic experience before.” Grant studied her and his head moved slightly as if he was inhaling her fragrance. “Where are you from? Who are your people?”

She resented the staccato questioning and answered succinctly. “My mom and I never lived in one place long. I don’t know who my dad was.”

He regarded her silently and nodded. “Well, you’re no shifter, but you’re not purely human, either.” He jerked his head at John. “You had sex with him? What was that like? Did you feel anything strange?”

“That’s enough!” John inserted his body between them, standing almost chest to chest with the other man.

Perron snorted. “I’m not asking from curiosity, Balto. She might have latent tendencies only now coming to full maturity. I wasn’t always able to dream travel or experience psychic visions myself. It developed within the past couple of years with no particular trigger, as far as I could tell. Or it could be that Sherrie’s psychic abilities are brought out by contact with our kind.”

“Is something like that possible?” Sherrie thought of how her senses had expanded when she held Liberty’s hand and how being around John had made her edgy. After sex her senses were heightened as if she’d been wrapped in a thick quilt before and was now uncovered and wide awake.

“Anything’s possible,” Perron answered. “Psychic dreaming, precognition, telekinesis and other mental abilities. Energies can be shifted or mutated in many ways. Sex is one of them.”

“What am I supposed to do with this power? How does it work?”

“Maybe you can find this entity with your mind, without holding Liberty’s hand, and learn his strengths and weaknesses.”

John moved closer to Sherrie, sliding a hand around her waist. “I don’t want to put her in danger by having her let this thing inside her head. Let’s start toward the caves and see if we can size him up physically first.”

Grant shrugged. “We can head out now as far as I’m concerned.”

“Sherrie will need clothes and hiking gear. I’ll get supplies from my shop and be back in a couple of hours. Meanwhile, she can get some sleep.”

Perron gave an impatient sigh. “I thought wolves were like Boy Scouts, always prepared, but it looks like you kidnapped her without much of a plan. Now you have to run an errand and leave me to guard her.”

“She’s not going to be with you.”

“Were you planning on leaving her here all alone and unprotected?” Grant’s eyes widened in an astonished cat’s stare. Sherrie couldn’t help smiling.

“Safer than leaving her with you.” John scooped his discarded shirt from the floor and slipped his arms into it.

“I promise not to disturb the lady’s sleep.” He pressed his palm over his heart, but the vow was diminished by the fact that his cock was pointing at Sherrie. “She can keep the door locked and bolted.”

“Go on. I’ll be okay.” Both flattered and mildly annoyed by his protectiveness, Sherrie squeezed John’s arm. She leaned in to plant a kiss on his cheek, but he turned his head and laid claim to her mouth with his. The possessive kiss was for Grant’s benefit, but Sherrie didn’t care. It was hot and deep and pulled on that thread within her that led straight to her clenching pussy. She gripped the sleeves of John’s unbuttoned shirt and longed to slide her hands up his stomach and chest to feel his warm skin and the solid muscle beneath. She felt Perron’s gaze burning into them, watching and craving, and that made the kiss all the hotter.

When she finally pulled away from John and glanced at the panther, his eyes were molten gold.

John whispered in her ear, “Keep the door locked.” He nudged Perron in the back, toward the cabin door.

Sherrie bolted the door then looked out the window, watching the headlights of the Blazer swing away and the taillights disappear down the track. She couldn’t see Grant in the dark, but felt him out there. Was he still man or had he turned into his animal form to patrol the night?

Leaving the window, she went to the kitchen for a bottle of water, which she emptied in a few gulps. She picked up the sleeping bag from the floor and draped it around her shoulders before sitting on the musty futon. There was no way she could sleep with her brain jumping like she was on speed. One twist after another had warped her life into an unrecognizable shape and she couldn’t stop reliving every moment of the past day. She also couldn’t stop picturing a panther prowling outside the door of the cabin.

She wrapped her arms around her body and lay back with her head on the flat pillow, gazing at the bolted door. I’ve had sex with a wolfman and now I’m lusting after a man who turns into a mountain lion. This has been the weirdest day of my life. Her muscles twitched, and her skin tingled. She’d never be able to fall asleep…

It didn’t surprise her when Grant Perron was suddenly standing beside the futon, gazing down at her. Locked door or not, she’d known he would come. His appearance was inevitable. It was her destiny.

He didn’t say a word, merely smiled at her, a glorious Apollo of a man with his dark blond hair and white teeth. He sat beside her on the bed and rested his hand on her belly. Her flesh felt branded by the heat. She expected to look down and see her skin smoking.

“Feel me?” His mouth didn’t form the words. They were inside her head as he was.

“Is this a dream?” But she knew it was no mere dream. On some plane beyond the physical, he was with her. Yet every sensation was concrete, and there was none of the flighty change of scenery or storyline that usually accompanied her dreams.

“It’s real enough. Don’t think too hard. Go with it. You can do whatever you want here. There are no limits.”

Sherrie glanced down at her body and saw it was true. Because she wanted to have his hot hand caress her bare skin, she was naked. No limits. The very words evoked erotic fantasies. If there were no limits, what would she want to do? The possibilities made her feel indecisive, and so she suggested, “I want you to take control.”

“Are you sure?”


She felt she’d made a deal with the devil as a slow smile spread across his face, but he reassured her by his velvet-pawed caresses on her stomach.

“Don’t look so worried. I won’t hurt you…more than what you want.”

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Psyche, Adelfa, and Bliss. Three beautiful sisters. One timid, one selfish, and one caring; but all three hungry for the pleasures of the flesh.

Upon gazing at her beauty, Eros, the god of love, demands the virginal Psyche be brought to his bed. Never mind that this is in direct defiance of the all-powerful goddess Aphrodite, who loathes her earthly rival.

Psyche has her own feelings about whose bed she’d rather be brought to, and it’s not that of the mysterious being who summons her. Led by Bliss, the three sisters hatch a surprising deception of their own that will hopefully satisfy all their needs.

Lust. Jealousy. Betrayal. Sex. Lies. Love. The truth will be revealed in the end, but will they all survive it?

EXCERPT (rated G)


The soft swish of the door opening told Eros he was no longer alone. Drawing in a deep breath and letting it out loudly, he let his annoyance be clearly heard by whoever had disturbed him.

“Sigh all you want, Eros, but I’m not leaving. You’ve kept your own council to the exclusion of all others for far too long already.”

In no mood to be social, Eros didn’t bother to turn to face his friend. “I simply find my own council superior to that of any other. That’s all, Erato. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

“Sorry, but no.” Erato moved further into the room and sat in the chair directly in front of Eros’ chaise, thereby blocking his view of the hills beyond his window. This was the vista he’d spent he didn’t know how many hours staring at of late.

Another sigh emanated from the deep sorrow within him.

“If you insist on being here, at least make yourself useful.” Eros thrust his empty cup forward. When Erato made no move, Eros nodded toward the flagon of wine on the table between them. “Pour one for yourself as well, my friend. It’s from Dionysus. Ever since I ‘befriended’ his maenads they’ve been most generous with his private stock. It does incredible things to a body.”

Erato raised a brow. “I know exactly what Dionysus’ private stock can do, thank you. I’ll pass.”

“Suit yourself.” Eros shrugged. He rose and splashed the deep claret liquid into his cup since it had become more than obvious that Erato wasn’t going to. “Though I must warn you that after drinking a bit more of this, I’ll most likely be summoning a few of the serving girls. Given that you don’t partake of orgies any longer since you’ve found your one true love in Acantha, you would do best to leave.”

“I’m not leaving and you’re not drinking any more of that.” Erato rose and grabbed the cup from his hand, sending scattered droplets into the air.

Brushing spilt wine from his hand, Eros frowned. “Why, my friend, would you take your life in your hands and do something so foolish?”

“I’m the only true friend you have. You’d never harm me, and you know it.” Erato scowled, and after placing the cup on a table out of Eros’ reach, sat again.

“Don’t be so sure.” For the first time since the unwelcome intrusion, Eros noticed Erato held a bound ream of paper in his hand. “Is there a purpose to your visit? Or are you here simply to annoy me?”

“Oh, there is a purpose.”

The book in Erato’s hand landed heavily on the end of Eros’ chaise. He barely gave it a glance, instead focusing on Erato. “You are the man of words, oh great muse of poetry. Not I.”

“Read it, Eros.”

He snorted in disgust. “I don’t read.”

Shaking his head, Erato grabbed the item back. “Then I shall read it to you.”

Couldn’t a man be left to wallow in sorrow and loneliness in peace? Eros leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “If you must. Forgive me if I take a nap while you do. I’m suddenly very weary.”

He heard Erato rifling through the pages. The man was actually going to read to him. What lunacy had gotten into his friend? Against his wishes, Eros found himself suddenly curious.

Erato cleared his throat. “My name is not important, but the story I tell is—“

“Not exactly Shakespeare, is it?” Eros cracked open one eye. “Why am I being forced to listen to this?”

“You’ll see.” Erato turned his gaze back to the age-yellowed parchment he held. “I am an old woman now. I feel my death upon me. Almost all whom I know and care for are dead. That is the reason I dare defy the gods and tell the truth which has never been told before. Not another living mortal knows what I do, until now. My tale begins in my youth, when I was a girl of seventeen—”

Eros sighed loudly. “Wonderful. How old is she at the time of the writing? How many years worth of this drivel must I suffer through the telling of?”

Ignoring him completely, Erato continued with the reading. “—working in the palace of the King and Queen of Miletis as a handmaiden caring for their three daughters, Bliss, Adelfa and Psyche—“

His attention captured now, Eros sat up, eyes wide open, his heart pounding. “Where did you find these writings?”

“In Sicily. I was conducting an inventory of the contents of the palace library. I found this hidden behind the books. It appears to have been there for quite some time.”

He eyed the book that most likely held the truth he’d long ago seen buried. The past he’d hoped would stay buried. The memories of which snuck up on him a few times a century and kept him secluded and morose until he could force back the darkness with enough wine and women. “Have you read it?”

“Oh, yes. Every word and I must say for the first time in our long friendship I actually feel as if I understand you, Eros. Now I see why the god of love hates love so passionately.”


Author site

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New Release: Finding Home, by Jude Mason

Finding Home

By Jude Mason
Publisher: Phaze
ISBN: 978-1-60659-529-9

Buy Now


Handsome, blond, Jacob Cob was on a hunting trip that takes him beyond anything he could have imagined. While tracking an animal, he steps into what he believes is a cave only to wake up a thousand years in the past. Taken in by a native band, a young warrior offers him shelter and friendship. Jacob begins to learn the ways of the band, and soon finds himself falling for Tsaskwana, or Bird Song, a lovely native woman.

Still he searches for a way home. Every spare moment he has, he wanders the forest, trying to find that cave, to no avail.

Will his white man ways ruin his chance at happiness? Will Bird Song win his heart? Will he accept this new home and these people as his?

Content: Time travel, voyeurism, m/f sex


"Good. Let us go inside then." Howling Wolf released his shoulder and entered the lodge.

Jacob followed. The interior was dim, but a fire roared in the center of the large room. His pallet lay on the far side, Wolf's and his lady's on the near side. It took only a few moments for his eyes to become accustomed, and that's when he saw both women were waiting for them.

Each woman knelt on a pallet: Bird Song on his, Little Dove on Wolf's. Over the fire between them, a large pot steamed, and the smell of fish soup permeated the air.

"You are hungry?" asked Little Dove, her face turned toward Wolf.

"Yes, I'm hungry. I'm starving," he replied and sank to his knees on the hide covered floor. Crawling toward her, he growled, like the wolf he'd been named after.

Jacob watched for only a moment as the big man neared his lover, his growls turning to moans of lust the closer he got. When he reached his hand out and touched her leg, she yelped as if burned, and threw her arms around his neck.

Tearing his eyes from the playful pair, he turned his focus on Bird Song, the maiden who'd trapped his heart from the first day he'd entered the village. She had positioned herself in the middle of his bed: her hide leggings removed and her footwear atop them at the bottom. She'd combed out her long raven black hair and cascaded down her back in a luscious waterfall of softness.

He quickly bent and removed his leather boots. Then, straightening, he skinned out of his soft leather jerkin before going toward her. They'd had many clandestine meetings, but until that moment, they'd never actually shared a bed. His excitement warred with his desire to take his time. He'd never been so concerned about pleasing a woman before. Bird Song was different—innocent maybe, but with an old soul, if that made any sense.

He felt her eyes on him, wandering over his chest and belly, traveling lower to where his erection pushed against the supple leather of his breech cloth. Each step forward shifted the head of his cock against it, and finally he shuddered from the extraordinary stimulation. He stopped when he was directly in front of her.

"It would seem we don't have to wait for our own lodge to be built," he murmured sliding his hand along her cheek to her chin, and lifting it. Her eyes found his, and she smiled.

"It would seem you're more than a little pleased at that," she countered, forcing her chin down, but only enough for her to focus on his erection. Her hand followed, sliding along his thigh and upward. She cupped the swell of his balls, gently massaging them, forcing a moan from deep inside him. Deftly, with her free hand, she unfastened the leather thongs holding his breech cloth together.

"Yes, I'm very pleased." He released her chin, only to move his hand to the tie holding her jerkin together. With a quick tug, the leather thong came loose and the front of her garment opened. The gentle slope of her breast drew his eyes and took his breath. He hungered for her. Her hand on him drove him on. His fingers trembled when he pushed them beneath the leather covering her shoulder. Pushing it away, he watched it slide down her arm and moved his hand to the other side. Another push, and a little urging, unveiled her upper body to him. The puckered tips of her breasts pointed at him, their dark points like beacons in the flickering firelight.

Buy Now

*Jude Mason - Readers needed: Come, explore with me...if you dare!*
To sign up for my mailing list, email me: jude.mason @ (no spaces)

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EROTIC EXPOSURE - My First Ellora's Cave Release!

I'm so excited to announce I have a new book out! It's called Erotic Exposure and it's my first book with Ellora's Cave is now available! It's hot, sexy, and fun! Hope you like it!

Liz Bellamy agrees to pose for a provocative calendar to help raise money for the animal shelter where she volunteers. Although it's for a good cause, she's a little shy about posing half naked.

When she arrives at the photography studio and finds hot photographer Kent Draper waiting for her, she almost chickens out, but decides to go through with it anyway. Not only does she end up having one heck of a sexy photo shoot, but discovers being half naked in front of a hunky photographer and his camera is one hell of a turn-on. And when a girl gets that aroused, a little shyness isn't going to keep her from getting what she wants.


Kent dropped to one knee in front of her, camera at the ready. "Okay, now that Godiva’s out of the room, show me your best sultry look."

Liz wasn’t exactly sure she knew how to do sultry, but she decided to give it her best shot. Putting her hands on the floor in front of her, she leaned forward to flash him a little more cleavage and gazed at him from beneath lowered lashes.

He immediately began snapping pictures. "Oh yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. Work it."

She giggled at the words, unable to help herself.

He came out from behind the camera to give her a curious look. "Why’d you stop? That was perfect."

"I’m not so sure sultry is a good look for me," she told him.

"I beg to differ. And so does the camera. But if you don’t believe me, do the same thing and this time check yourself out on the monitor."

Hoping she didn’t look as silly as she felt, Liz struck the same pose, then glanced at the monitor after he’d snapped the picture. What she saw made her do a double take. With her full lips parted, her blue eyes half hidden underneath a thick fringe of dark lashes, and the tops of her lace-covered breasts peeking out enticingly from her silk robe, not only didn’t she look silly, she looked like the very definition of sultry. That thought sent another current of excitement shooting through her pussy.

"Beautiful," Kent said. "Now let your robe slip off your shoulders a little for me."

Liz did as he asked, waited for him to take a picture, then impulsively lifted her hair up with her free hand and blew him an air kiss over her bare shoulder.

He chuckled. "That’s it. Show me some more. Have fun with it."

She dropped her hand, letting her hair fall down her back as she shifted positions. Lying over on her hip, she leaned forward to give him a sexy come-hither look. As she did, the robe slid down to her elbows, completely exposing her lace-trimmed bra to the camera and the man behind it. Kent’s low groan of approval was all the encouragement she needed to keep going.

Buy it at Ellora's Cave!

And for a sneak peek at Just Right; Good Cop, Bad Girl; and Mr. Right-Now, my other upcoming releases from Ellora's Cave, visit my website at


"Stories so hot, they'll make your cheeks blush!"

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by Vijaya Schartz

Shapeshifter romance
Sapphire Blue Publishing
Released January 3, 2010
All eBook format, including Kindle


Arizona Game Ranger Madison Huntley, investigating a wild animal attack on a ranch in Cave Creek, discovers disturbing details. If she didn't know better, she'd say the legends frightening the ranch hand might be true. But Madison isn't just a wilderness cop. As a biologist and a wild life expert, she believes in facts and science, not scary tales.

Kaletaka, a Hopi Native, enjoys fame among the white man, forging haunting sculptures of half gods, half humans. When he awadens bloody, with no recollection of what he did the night before, he remembers the legends of his tribe, and the meaning of his name. But hard as he tries, can he escape his destiny?

Can Madison solve the mystery killings and insure the safety of the town? Let alone her own safety? For each step closer to the truth and to Kaletaka unleashes an unspeakable evil, and no one is safe...


Nothing moved in the backyard. Madison called toward the house, "Anyone home?"

No one answered. Madison circled the white tent to peek inside from the open flap. She came face to face with a life size...Chupacabra? A cloud moved across the sky, hiding the sun and bathing the tent in shadow. Her heart raced and she rached for her sidearm. She stopped mid movement. When did she get so jumpy?

The object of her fright was a tall metal sculpture, an armored muscular man with the head of a coyote. Or was it Anubis, the Egyptian god with the jackal head? The bright silver finish and turquoise decorating the black metal coud indicate either.


Something growled behind Madison. She whirled about, holding the 9 mm .357 SIG pistol in a two-handed grip. Aiming, she stared into the yellow eyes of a large bobcat, sitting atop a flat boulder in the shade of a pine tree. The animal had an orange top coat and white spotted belly. Forty pounds of quick muscle. Was this the killer? Was it rabid? The bobcat growled again but didn't crouch to pounce.

"Felix seems to like you."

The low baritone at her back made Madison's skin prickle all over, but she maintained eye contact with the bobcat. Never take your eyes off a wild animal in a standoff. "Felix?"

"You better put that thing away. He's like me. He doesn't like guns." The calm male voice seemed to caress her. "It's okay, little brother."

The wild cat grunted a response, lay down on the flat rock and yawned. He licked a front paw and rested his head on it to resume an interrupted nap.

Madison lowered her firearm and relaxed her fingers on the trigger, but her heart beat like a jungle drum. Reluctantly, she turned to face the man who had spoken in such a smooth voice.

Tall, with a welding mask flipped up over his head, he stood legs apart, boots firmly planted in the ground. The top part of his leather apron had fallen, and his black open shirt exposed a thick silver chain resting on the copper chiseled muscles glistening in sunlight. Madison allowed her gaze to linger on such male perfection.

"Sorry if Felix startled you." The Native American man removed the welding mask with gloved hands, revealing a face streaked with soot like black war paint. He wore his long black hair in a ponytail and stared at Madison with the most startling green eyes she had ever seen, fearless, with intense fire, like a wild animal.

Shaken, Madison buried her lusty thoughts under a gruff attitude and returned her sidearm to the holster. "A bobcat is not a pet. There are laws protecting wildlife."

"Felix chooses my company." He didn't seem sorry at all and grinned, showing white teeth, as if he'd enjoyed her fright. Something was odd about him.

The man's bold stare made Madison uncomfortable. "This is a dangerous animal to keep around, mainly for your neighbors' pets. Dont they complain?"

"Felix and I have an understanding. I feed him, and he doesn't kill." He grinned at her with insolence. "My name is Kaletaka, and I own this house."

Wishing a wonderful 2010 to all.

Vijaya Schartz
Girls with Guns, Romance with a Kick

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