Time After Time by Michelle Houston


Sands of Time: After being diagnosed with inoperable cancer, Nicole can feel what time she has slipping away. Like many, she has told herself she would do the things she has always dreamed of "later." Pressed for time, later has come: she's going to see the world. She planned to start with Scotland, and go on from there, but once she arrives she meets a man she can't resist. Ciaran offers her a hope for the future she had given up on having, but it comes with a price. For Ciaran is not what he appears to be, and his race can't risk anyone finding out they exist.

Turning Back Time: Devastated at the news of her friend's supposed death, Julie rushes to Scotland to find some answers. What she finds instead is Roarke. Unwilling to let go of her search, Julie winds up figuring out what happened to Nicole. Along the way, she finds her own chance at happiness, if she can accept that Roarke isn't human.

Available from Phaze

Also available from All Romance eBooks

15,000 words

*Note: This release was previously published, and has since been re-edited and tweaked.


"I have several months before the cancer progresses too far, several months of traveling the world, seeing its wonders. I just wish I had someone to see them with. Oh, I know, Julie would have come with me. But, it's not the same as cuddling against a warm chest, feeling strong arms wrap around you as you both stare into the beauty of the sea. While I'm at it, I wish I didn't have to die, either, but I guess that old saying about wishes and horses is right."

"I hope for your sake that you're talking into a tape recorder, and not to yourself."

Nicole started, shocked to hear a deep voice some out of nowhere. Quickly standing, she turned to far the tall man who stepped towards her, seemingly separating from the shadows.
"Actually, I was talking to the cat." Nicole waved her hand towards the bench, only to turn and see that the cat had disappeared.

"What cat, lass?" He was close enough now for her to make out his features: soft black hair, long enough to curl around his ears, a strong jaw and nose. Looking into his eyes, she saw a teasing glint in the amber depths. It matched the dimples that winked at her as he smiled. "There's no cat here."

"There was." The breeze chose that moment to blow, and Nicole shivered, crossing her arms over her chest as her nipples hardened, poking at her bra.

As he moved closer, Nicole couldn't help but admire the feline grace of his movements, even as a cautious voice in her head whispered that she was alone in a strange place, with a strange man.
"I should be getting back inside." As she moved to move past his, he reached out and clasped her shoulder, his hand warm and heavy against her skin.

"I dinna mean to frighten ya, lass." As he spoke his voice deepened, his brogue becoming more evident. "My name's Ciaran. I live near here and sometimes I take a stroll through the grounds. 'Tis something peaceful about this castle, the way it stands so majestic on the cliff, watching the waves rush in."

His hand shifted, gliding down her arm to her hand, leaving a trail of sensual fire in its wake. Nicole trembled, her pulse racing as her body awakened, yearning for more of his touch. As his fingers brushed along hers, she found herself curling hers to intertwine with them, prolonging the contact.

"I'm Nicole." Without being aware of it, she had allowed herself to be guided back to the bench. She jerked as she felt the cold stone brushing against her legs as she sat down, Ciaran still holding onto her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

"A pleasure to meet you, Nicole."

Looking into his eyes, she found herself mirrored there. Her hair fluttered around her face, blown by the gentle breeze coming off of the water. He blinked, shattering the spell that wrapped around her.

Looking away from his steady gaze, Nicole took a deep breath, and simply enjoyed the quiet company Ciaran seemed willing to provide. As she sat there, her hand lightly clasped in his, she found a feeling of peace gliding over her. This country, its inhabitants, and the way she felt since she arrived, was indeed strange, but welcome.

Beneath her, waves crashed against the cliff, trying to pound the stones into submitting to nature's cycle. All throughout the castle, that cycle was at work, slowly chinking away at the stones, turning them to tiny grains to be blown away on the night breeze.

For a moment, she couldn't breathe. She was like the stones, slowly being stripped apart for her return to the Earth.

Ciaran's grip tightened on hers, almost as if he sensed the direction of her thoughts, and she struggled to push away the knowledge that her time was slipping away from her, and simply enjoy the moment.

"Do you believe in things beyond yourself, Nicole?" So softly spoken were his words, she at first doubted that he had said anything at all, until he turned to face her, a question hovering in his gaze.

"If you're asking if I believe in God, I don't know." She was curious at his topic, but willing—at least for the moment—to see where he went with it.

A smile curved his lips, softening his rugged features and sending a dart of warmth from her breast to her core. "I wasn't talking about a higher power, just things beyond what most take to be all there is. This land is ripe with things beyond our understanding. Our history is filled with tales of the Sith and other such otherworldly creatures."

"I stopped believing in fairy tales and knights in shining armor a long time ago, Ciaran." The oddity of their conversation should have worried her, but sitting there in the dark, in a country filled with folktales and stories of a monster in Lake Loch, it just seemed almost expected. "But, sitting here, where time seemed to have almost stopped several hundred years ago, I could almost believe in fairies playing in the forest."

Just then a strange glint fluttered amongst the trees, then flickered out.

"Will-o-the-wisps, lass, what you're seeing there."

Nicole turned to look into his eyes, struck for the first time at the odd shape of his pupils. They were slightly more elongated that normal. A cool chill rushed down her spine, and a curious flitting at the back of her mind warned that things were never going to be the same again.

Shrugging it off, she reminded herself that she was dying; nothing could ever be the same again.

"This land is strange indeed, and holds more wonders that you can imagine. But, it takes a brave heart and a willing mind to embrace them." Before she could ask the meaning to his cryptic comment, his head ducked and he lightly pressed a soft kiss against her lips.

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Free Read and a Print Book! Both from Ellora's Cave!

I have a free read available! It's called CAUGHT RED-HANDED and you can download it for free from Ellora's Cave!

Dru Summers can never wait until Christmas morning to open her presents. So when her husband Ryan puts a new one underneath the tree on Christmas Eve, she can’t help but sneak downstairs to take a peek while he’s sleeping. When Ryan catches her in the act, he decides the best way to deal with her behavior is to give her that spanking she so richly deserves. To her surprise, it turns out to be the best Christmas present of her life!


Hope you like it!

I also now have a print book available from Ellora's Cave! It's called IF YOU DARE and it includes four hot, sexy stories - EROTIC EXPOSURE; JUST RIGHT; MR. RIGHT-NOW and GOOD COP, BAD GIRL! Isn't that cover steamy?!

Four Sexy Stories!

Normally shy, Liz Bellamy agrees to pose for a sexy calendar to help raise money for an animal shelter. She almost chickens out after meeting photographer Kent Draper, but soon discovers being half naked in front of the sexy shutterbug’s lens is a turn-on. And when a girl gets that aroused, well…a little shyness won’t stop her from getting what she wants.

When Goldie Lockwood gets lost hiking and comes upon an isolated cabin, little does she know it belongs to three hot werebear brothers. The guys aren’t thrilled to discover she ate their food and slept in their beds, so naughty Goldie suggests a spanking as payment. Now hot, bothered and wanting more, Goldie must decide—sex with one brother? Or all three?

Maid of honor in yet another wedding, Kate laments her bad luck in finding her own Mr. Right. Her friends point out she’s trying too hard, and convince her to put her search for the perfect man on hold in favor of some simple fun.Kate goes for it by propositions the gorgeous best man, Dawson McKenna. She soon finds herself doing things she’d never dreamed—and falling for Dawson. But she was the one who made the rules. How can she now tell him she wants more than just a weekend fling?

Julie Hanson is mortified to learn the uniformed stud who showed up at her birthday party isn’t a male stripper hired by her girlfriends. Kirk Chandler is a real cop. And she teased him about giving her a birthday spanking! But Kirk returns later that night bearing gifts—and an offer to give her that spanking. Julie is about to get a night of pleasure that qualifies as the best birthday present ever.

Read an Excerpt

Buy it from Ellora's Cave!

Happy Reading!


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


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Don't mess with a man who's found the woman he's destined to love

From Nowhere to Run

Setup: retired sheriff Harry Mortonson is helping M.C. ("Mac") Shefflington, a woman who's afraid Tom Donaldson, the man who assaulted her years ago, is back ... and looking for revenge.  If she's not careful, Harry or she could become Donaldson's next victim.

Harry's not going to let that happen. He's just found the woman of his dreams, and there's no way in hell he's letting her get hurt -- or get away from him. He's got ideas about a future with her and they don't include a stalker.

Next to his bed, Harry’s land-line phone rang. He peered at the illuminated face of his bedside clock. Midnight. He threw back the covers and raced downstairs to the den. He got to the phone on the fourth ring, pressing record on the old tape machine as he picked up.

“Mort here.”

“Listen, Barney Fife. I meant it. Stay away.”

Harry sat down behind the desk, tucking his feet up on the wheels of his chair and away from the cold floor. “Why should I? For all I know, you’ve gone into hiding again. Why should I be afraid of you?”

“I know you’re not an idiot, so why are you doing this?”

“Maybe I like Mac.”

Donaldson made a dismissive noise. “You just met her. I don’t believe that.”

“Maybe I remember ’Nam, too.”

There was a pause. “You weren’t in the same war I was.”


“You weren’t captured and tortured. You weren’t held in a cage for months. You weren’t—” The voice stopped, then resumed in a calmer tone. “Stay out of it. I don’t plan to hurt Mac. I just want to finish what I started.”

Harry pulled over his Happy Bunny memo book. Donaldson? POW? “What does that mean? If you finish what you started, she’ll be dead.”

“That was an accident. It wasn’t supposed to get out of hand. It was a mistake. I was doing some serious drugs then and it got out of hand. No, I just want what’s coming to me, then I can go back. My pawns are in place, the rooks are dead and the knights are hamstrung. Stay out of the way and you won’t get hurt.”

Pawns? Rooks? Knights? Damn. It had been years since Harry played chess. He remembered Mac’s words—Tom was a math genius. It would make sense the bastard played chess. Harry struggled to remember the pieces and their allowed movements. “What about the bishops? I suppose Mac is the Queen?”

Donaldson laughed. “Sure, she’s the Queen. You can’t have a King without a Queen, right? And I suppose you could say the bishops are wandering around, mostly blocked.”

“King?” Harry was writing frantically, scribbling notes as Donaldson talked.

“It’s all up to Mac. Once she puts him into play, we can wrap this up. But she has to move him out of hiding. So stay out of the way and you won’t get hurt.”

“Who am I?” Harry looked down at his notes. “Looks like all the pieces are accounted for.”

“You’re just another pawn, Mortonson. And you know what happens to them.” He hung up.

Harry touched the stop button and the old answering machine shut off. He went to the bookcase next to the window and peered up at the shelves, touching various book spines before pulling down a tattered copy of his old Boy Scout Handbook. He carried it back upstairs and tucked in under Order the cat’s warm bulk, finally finding what he was looking for.

Pawns could change roles during the course of a match.

Maybe not all of Mac’s knights were hamstrung.

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The mystery of attraction ...

From Your Saving Grace

Setup: Hannah was recently attacked outside her home after receiving threatening phone calls. Jude Brenner, temporarily assigned to protect her, stayed in her home while she was in the hospital recovering. They've just returned to her farm house after spending an afternoon away.

Hannah scrambled out of the Jeep, reaching in for the laptop the same time as Jude. She tried to move out of his way as he stepped forward but ended up sprawling on the seat, Brenner on top of her as he stumbled over her feet. They both started laughing, but the laughter died when their eyes met. His body pressed on hers—much of it covered by his sheepskin jacket but she felt his hard thighs. For an instant she wanted to wiggle underneath him and hitch up her own jacket, the better to experience him against her.

He jerked away and helped her to her feet, reaching in to snag the laptop and her briefcase. Suddenly breathless, Hannah flailed about, grabbing the two big notebooks and staggering under her burden. She followed him up the steps to the kitchen door.

She entered the kitchen foyer and dropped her books on the floor. Brenner crowded in behind her, putting his gym bag down while bending over to untie his boots. For a minute they were close, each leaning against the other to get laces undone and coats and mittens off. Then they straightened up.

“Let me check things,” he said, disappearing down the basement steps.

Hannah wondered if he’d looked through the house the night before. It felt odd to know someone had walked around her house without her knowledge. He came back upstairs. “All okay. Your plants need some water, though.” He jerked his head toward the basement door then walked into the kitchen.

Hannah frowned. Her seed-starter kits were in the basement under grow lights. She went to the kitchen window, looking out on the snowy backyard where the garden would take shape. The brief snowfall from the afternoon had softened some of the tracks. But Hannah saw the tracks from the night before, remembering the run through the thigh-deep snow, panicked and terrified.

Then she saw a new set of tracks. Brenner’s footsteps? They skirted the west edge of her property, near the windbreak that separated her property from Albert’s. They looked fresh and new, with no snow filling them in. They must be Brenner’s. But he wasn’t gone that long—he couldn’t have gone all the way over to the side of the house then walked up to the south edge of the lot and back, not while I was in the Jeep. They must be—

She turned to look at Brenner as he walked into the kitchen. He met her accusing gaze squarely. “Yeah,” he said. “Somebody’s been here.”

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Talk Dirty to Me Excerpt

I'm so pleased to announce that my first Quickie with Ellora's Cave has received rave reviews! Check them out on my blog.

Excerpt -Lilly drove her little car around the airport at least twice before finding her way to Southwest arrivals. Parking wasn't allowed so she could only hope Blake was waiting for her somewhere outside. She drove slow, searching through the crowd on the sidewalk for him. Desire churned in her stomach.

And then she saw him.

Her body reacted instantly, thinking about him was one thing but seeing him in the flesh was even more powerful. Awareness exploded through her body, as she remembered all the times and places they'd had hot, naughty sex. How Blake had taken her to paradise a thousand times. Her panties became soaked as she clenched her legs together hoping to ease the need that was becoming unbearable. A pleasant prickling in her full breasts caused her to raise her arm and brush it over them to try to ease some of the ache.

Blake hadn't changed at all. He was still the sexiest man on earth. As she sat there staring at him she felt her breathing become erratic and her heart rate pick up speed.

Blake was six feet tall, and lean. Yet his black polo shirt revealed he wasn't lacking on muscle power. The gray slacks he was wearing gave evidence to the strength in his thighs and stretched across the prominent outline of his cock. He looked dangerous. He was dangerous, only in a way that had always drawn her in. His dark hair was shorter than he used to wear it, military cut. Lilly couldn't see his eyes for the dark sunglasses covering them, for which she was thankful. Blake had the kind of eyes that could look right through someone, into their very soul.

He's just a man, he's just a man, Lilly repeated to herself. Flesh and blood and as mortal as she was. He had emotions, he could be hurt. He had needs. Her cheeks grew hot when she thought of their last night together, and how they'd made love like two wild animals trying to consume one another. Then he'd left the next morning for an assignment on an oil rig in the North Sea. And she'd tried to convince herself that she hated him ever since.

Now she knew how futile that had been.

Tory Richards

Recommended Read from Blackraven's Reviews
5 Siren Stones from Siren Reviews
You Gotta Read from You Gotta Read Reviews
4 Cherries from Whipped Cream Erotic Reviews
5 Stars from My Overstuffed Bookshelf
4 Stars from Manic Readers

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Mystical Seduction

Mystical Seduction
By Dorothy McFalls
Contemporary Paranormal Romance (HOT)

Love isn't in the equation but fate has other ideas.

Faith Summers wanted some forbidden fun on her birthday—a night in her sexy boss’s bed. What she gets is more than she bargained for when her encounter with Horace West results in mind-blowing sex, attempted murder and a magical explosion that turns her world upside down.

Faith is human. Horace is not. He's a Protector—a race of supernatural beings who protects humans from otherworldly attacks. The last thing Horace needs is a woman. They’re nothing but trouble. And that's exactly what he gets when he encounters Faith Summers—trouble. The sultry vixen did everything in her power to drive him crazy. Still, sleeping with her was a mistake. A huge mistake.

A crazy night of passion unleashes Horace’s mystical powers on the world. Now, unless Horace can undo what Faith has done to him, she will die.


He’s gone.

Faith stopped dancing and stared at the empty space where Horace had stood with his arms crossed over his broad chest. She’d felt certain he’d been watching her. The press of his intense gaze had made her feel sort of light-headed and tingly.

She’d liked it and missed it right away, and she missed him.

“Come on.” Her friend Kimmi tugged on Faith’s arm and started to gyrate her hips in time with the music. “Dance with me.”

Faith forced a smile and followed Kimmi’s movements while trying to push thoughts of Horace West and his sexy-as-sin body from her mind. She had no business lusting after the club’s owner. Heck, she’d never even met him.

Tim, the head bartender had hired Faith a little over a month ago. She’d expected Tim would have introduced her to Horace by now. But on the nights she served, Horace conveniently kept his distance.

After a while, she began to think Horace treated all his employees that way. However, last week after attending her last class for the day at the University of Chicago, she’d stopped by the bar to pick up her paycheck. Immediately she’d spotted Horace with the bartenders. He laughed at a joke one of them had made and acted like part of the group, friendly even. It was enough to give a girl a complex, considering how he’d never so much as smiled in her direction.

So tonight, when her friends asked her where she wanted to go for her birthday, she had picked Club West. It had seemed like a perfect opportunity to get a closer look at the club’s young, sexy owner.

On her birthday, a time for wishes to come true, she planned to find out why Horace West persistently avoided her.

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Waxing is for Pussies

Like lesbian erotica?

Me too. That's why I write it. The newest of my new lesbian releases is a great little Torquere Press Sip called WAXING IS FOR PUSSIES.

Claire is a butch dyke who doesn't go in for all the "girly" stuff. Her girlfriend Billie works at a salon, joyfully painting nails all day. When Billie takes up hot waxing, she asks Claire to be her test subject. She also asks her salon buddy Soo Jin to give her hand. How will Claire and Billie react when Soo Jin takes the request for help as an invitation to play?


"Have you ever had a bikini wax?" Billie asked as she ate.

I laughed. "Do I look like someone who gets waxed?"

With a shrug, she said, "I don't know. You got a pedicure once."

"From you," I reminded her. Billie lifted a piece of sushi saturated in soy sauce to her mouth. "I just wanted to meet you. Every time I tried to say hi on the street, I chickened out. I get nervous talking to beautiful girls."

Billie smiled as she chewed. "Want one?"

I waved away the sushi. "Nah, I already ate, but thanks."

Shaking her pretty head, she leaned forward to kiss my cheek. I knew she'd left a big red lipstick stain in her wake, but I ignored it for the moment. "Not sushi, sweetie," she cooed like a crafty little dove. "A bikini wax. Want one?"

Without meaning to, I laughed out loud. There were so many reasons to say no, I didn't know where to begin. "What, you mean at the salon?" I asked. "Because I'm pretty sure your boss banned me for life."

"We could do it after hours," she countered. "I'm a key holder."

What other excuses could I come up with? "I've heard it hurts like hell."

"Oh, don't give me that," she said with a sneaky grin. She spread some wasabi on her sushi and topped it with pickled ginger before setting it in a pool of soy sauce. "You have how many tattoos? I think you can handle a little hot wax."

Rising from the footstool, she pulled down on the hem of the black cotton dress that served as her uniform. The one last piece of sushi, she left in front of me in its plastic box. I stared at it in displaced awe. After tiptoeing to the door, she turned around and said, "Come down after hours. We'll have a good time."

Buy Now!

Thanks for reading!

Giselle Renarde

Canada just got hotter!



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What happens when you go home again? Murder, maybe?

From Candy, Corpses and Classified Ads

Setup: Molly's ex-husband was found dead (buried under her rose bush) and her ex-lover, JT, is investigating the murder.

The phone went dead. There wasn't a dial tone or anything. It just stopped working. I checked the charging base, but the red light was still on, which meant it was getting power. I put the receiver back into the base unit. As I did, I glanced outside and saw the motion light come on over the barn. It was a black night out, with no moon, but I could have sworn someone was walking through the edge of darkness cast by the light and shadow.

I moved to the other window, which faced more fully onto the drive. As I did, the light came on over the garage. This time I was sure there was a shadow there—a tall shadow that was not a raccoon.

Fear hit me hard. Somebody was in my yard and my phone didn't work. This was like a bad Alfred Hitchcock movie. I was a mile outside of town and the only protection I had was a fourteen-year-old overweight neutered tomcat.

I stepped away from the window and raced down the stairs to the dark kitchen. My bag was lying where I'd dropped it. I fumbled inside and pulled out my cell phone, normally just used for long distance calls. I opened it with shaking hands.

The kitchen door started to open.

Oh, shit. I panicked. I raced back the way I came, through the dining room toward the back door that led to the seldom-used back stoop on the south side of the house. Mr. T watched me curiously from the couch in the living room. I considered pausing to pick him up, but decided a struggling cat would probably be a liability. I wished him a silent good luck, pulled open the door and stepped out into the night.

Cold assaulted me. I was wearing sweatpants, a sweatshirt and my old felt clogs. I sank into snow up to my knees, piled there by the wind. I bit back a curse and edged around the side of the house. That was when I realized I still had the cell phone in my hand. I turned on the phone, punching in the first number on my speed dial.


Damn. I'd called Mom. "Call the police," I whispered. "Something's happening."

Yolanda hesitated just a second. "Molly? What's going on?"

I heard a door open and slam shut behind me. I inched around the side of the house. "I don't know, but there's somebody here. Call the police."

"Why didn't you call them?"

"It's a long story, Mom. Just call the damn police." I closed the phone. Pressing against the house, I edged along the west side, which faced the barn in the distance. The motion light had gone out and the drive was just a snowy ribbon in the meager moonlight. I considered making a break for the garage, but decided it would be safer to aim for the windbreak and the relative safety of the trees. If I stuck to the trees that bordered my back yard, I could cross the drive near the barn and head for the woods behind it.

I took a long, deep breath, trying to still my shivering. I began to inch forward, sticking close to the lilacs that bordered the yard, hoping for a bit of cover. One step forward, then another. I hazarded a glance to my right, at the side of the house that faced the garage. The kitchen was brightly lit. Someone had gone inside and turned on the light.

I took another step forward. Something hit me so hard I spun, losing my footing on the snowy ground. I fell backward, toward the dormant herb garden and the azalea bushes that Melvin had tried to uproot in one of his first forays into my yard. I did a crazy two-step dance, struggling to keep from falling into the sharp, spiny bushes. I wasn't aware of pain but I was aware of a blinding, stunning heat that radiated out from my right arm, encompassing my entire chest.

I stared down and saw the blood, glistening black in the pale moonlight.

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Be careful of those brownies at the potluck...

From Brownies, Bodies, and Breaking the Code

SETUP: Jessie (our heroine) is at home, hoping to relax after a stressful day at work – where a fellow employee was murdered after eating her brownies at a company potluck. She calls Alex Raney, a police detective investigating the murder, to verify that he received information she'd given to Gus Colcannon (an interesting man in her office) to pass along to Raney.

I pulled the thin curtains aside and focused the binoculars, expecting to see the small herd of deer who'd been making forays into my yard, led by a male I'd dubbed Broke-Antler Buck.

What I saw was a man with a rifle.

"Well, shit," I muttered.

"Excuse me?"

Oops. I'd forgotten I was still holding the phone. "Sorry. There's a guy with a gun out here in my back yard."


Raney had shouted. I jerked the phone in surprise. "A hunter, out here in the woods, behind my house. Hold on a second." I put the phone down and peered outside. Raney's voice was loud behind me on the phone. The angle was wrong from this room. I picked up the phone. "I'm going back into the living room for a minute. Do you want me to call you back?"

"There's a man outside with a gun?"

He spoke fast and loud. Voices in the background behind him sounded excited.

"Yeah. They're not supposed to." My house was on the fringes of town and west of me was open land. Hunters often used the trail although they weren't supposed to be so close to the houses. I refocused the lenses, straining to see details, but all I could pick out was a camo jacket, brown pants, and a head in a dark ski mask as it turned to face up the hill, toward me. "Well, that's stupid," I said.


I recognized that distinctive raspy voice. "Gus?"

"Answer the damn question, Jessie."

"My, my, aren't we in a pissy mood? Why are you talking to me? Where's the cop?" I held the binoculars up again. I was right. The hunter wasn't wearing blaze orange, which was either stupid or illegal or both. I took a step back from the window and turned. That's when I saw Broke-Antler Buck standing down slope and twenty yards to the right of the hunter, who appeared to be oblivious to the presence of a large amount of deer meat on the hoof.

"Raney's right here. Answer the question--what's stupid?"

"The hunter isn't wearing orange. I thought that was a law. And there's a deer right there. He's sort of a tame deer. Well, not tame, but he's not spooky wild like some deer. Man, that bastard is going to kill that buck right on my land. That is so not right. Listen, I've got to deal with this, I'll call you back."

"Jessamine Katherine Patrokus, don't you dare hang up this phone!"

"What?" I almost dropped the phone in surprise. "How did you get my name?" I turned the binoculars back on the hunter, who still seemed ignorant of Buck standing nearby. I didn't want that deer killed on my land. The bastard hunter would probably demand to bring the carcass up the hill near my house, which was the closest point to any road. The smell and the blood would attract every critter for miles around. Not to mention the fact I'd grown attached to that stupid deer in the two years I'd watched him grow up. He wasn't the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree, but that didn't mean he deserved to be shot like a fish in a barrel.

"What's going on there?" Gus demanded.

"I have to deal with this. Just hold on for a second. I'm not hanging up so don't get excited." I set the phone on the coffee table and pulled my slingshot from the coffee table drawer. I kept a cache of rocks near the door to the deck and I paused to take a handful before stepping out on to the slick planking. I'd practiced for hours to keep the crows away from my bird feeders and the coons out of the compost heap so I was a good shot. I moved two steps forward and took aim for the trees above and behind the hunter.

Buck heard me and broke cover. The hunter, startled, turned at the sound. I fired five quick shots, which thunked into the trees around the human. As I moved back to the shelter of the house he twisted, lost his balance and tumbled backwards toward the pond. Despite days of below-zero temperatures, I knew it wasn't frozen solid. That hunter would get a cold, dirty bath if there were any justice in the world.

When I got into the house I heard squawking from the phone. "I'm back." I picked up the phone and hurried down the hall to the den. I peeked out and saw the dark shape of the hunter, getting to his feet. The deer was nowhere in sight. I smiled with satisfaction.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I told you, there was this hunter out back. I wasn't going to let him shoot a deer down the hill from my house. Do you know how--"

"What did you do?"

"I used my slingshot to scare the deer away." I decided not to mention I'd aimed at the hunter. That might be against the law. "Honestly, aren't you overreacting? This kind of crap happens all the time."

"It doesn't happen on the day somebody dies in your office, does it?"

I paused as I walked back toward the living room. He had a point. "So what are you saying? I'm supposed to call the police?" Then I remembered. "Oh. Wait. I was talking to the police. Put him back on the phone--the sympathetic one."

"Jessie, I swear, you need to--"

"Wait." I heard a noise in the woods behind the house. I went to the window. The hunter was still out there. He had his arms raised.

That's when I heard the gunshot.

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Leslie Goosemoon Rides Again

Leslie Goosemoon the cowgirl used to be Leslie Goosemoon the cowboy, and folks in these parts don't take kindly to changes.

New to the rodeo experience, Dina doesn't understand why the biggest star on the circuit is despised by all. When she runs a search on the rodeo champ, it all becomes clear: Leslie Goosemoon the cowgirl used to be Leslie Goosemoon the cowboy, and folks in these parts don't take too kindly to those people. The town's intolerable ignorance drives Dina to seek out Leslie at her modest cabin, where desire is sparked by enlightening conversation, dusty jeans, and a refreshing shower in the great outdoors.


“Leslie? Leslie Goosemoon?” Dina cried, chasing after the rodeo champ. “Wait up, will ya?”

The remarkable rider stopped in her tracks twenty meters ahead, and Dina slowed her gait from a gallop to an amble. It felt like a good five minutes before the mysterious stranger turned her head. Even when she did, the brim of her tawny cowboy hat obscured her eyes until she took it off to wipe dusty sweat from her brow.

“Well?” Leslie Goosemoon prodded.

Dina’s blood ran cold. She wasn’t anticipating such piercing blue eyes on a rough and tumble rider. Her eyes should be brown like the mud spray across her cheek.

“Hi,” Dina began, forgetting why she’d chased her down in the first place.

“Whaddya want?” the rider grumbled, her quick-draw stance keeping Dina at a distance.

“It just seems strange that nobody came to congratulate you. All the other girls in competition have their legions of fans. Here you’re the big winner and you’ve got no one telling you how great you rode today.” Dina tried to sound casual, taking a tentative step forward.

With a shrug, Leslie Goosemoon replied, “Lots of folks on the circuit could do without me.”

“Well, of course they could; if you weren’t around, those other girls might have a chance in hell at winning. Do you always ride like that?”

Another shrug, and a fraction of a smile.

“This is my first time,” Dina went on with a keen smirk. “At a rodeo, I mean.”

“That so?” Leslie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yup.” Silence made Dina nervous, so she filled it. “My roommate’s boyfriend, Rod the Clod, commandeered our TV during the Calgary Stampede last year. I never liked cowboy stuff before that, but when you’re subjected to something night and day…”

“…it grows on you.”

“Exactly. Although, I never did warm up to Rod the Clod.” Dina hesitated, but what the hell. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. “I probably hated him so much because that rat bastard totally crushed my chance to get with Vicky. Hard to make a move with him on the couch twenty-four-seven.”

With a wolfish smile, Leslie gave her a blatant once-over. “You lookin’ to get over Vicky?”

Dina shrugged, meeting her penetrative gaze straight on. Leslie took two steps closer. In one fluid motion, her arm swooped around Dina’s waist and a dusty hand brushed through her hair, firm against her scalp. Those pink lips hovered like Tantalus’ water glass, so close she could nearly sip them.

“Best way to get over someone is to get under someone.”

Buy Leslie Goosemoon Rides Again by Giselle Renarde Now from All Romance ebooks!


Giselle Renarde

Canada just got hotter!



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GOOD COP, BAD GIRL from Ellora's Cave!

I'm so excited to announce that I have a new erotic romance out with Ellora's Cave called GOOD COP, BAD GIRL that's fun, sexy and smokin' hot!


Gotta love a guy who comes with his own handcuffs!

When a hunky cop shows up at Julie Hanson’s apartment to tell her the police received a complaint about the noise from her birthday party, she assumes he’s a male stripper her girlfriends hired. Upon discovering the gorgeous Kirk Chandler really is a police officer, she’s completely mortified, especially since she teased him about giving her a birthday spanking.

Kirk appears at her door for a second time later that night, bearing gifts and asking if she got her birthday spanking. Julie not only gets her bottom nicely warmed, but is treated to a night of pleasure that qualifies as the best birthday present any girl could ask for.


Laughing, Julie yanked open the door and found herself face to face with the most gorgeous guy she’d ever seen. Tall, with short-cropped brown hair and a perfectly chiseled jaw, he had a wide, sensuous mouth and soulful dark eyes. More gold than brown, they were the kind of eyes a girl could end up getting lost in.

She forced her gaze to move lower, taking in his broad shoulders and muscular biceps before coming to rest on the shiny badge on the front of his dark blue uniform. Directly across from it was a nametag that read Chandler. This hot hunk was a cop?

Abruptly realizing she was just standing there staring at him, she reached up to tuck her long, ash blonde hair behind an ear. "Can I help you, Officer?"

He glanced at the other girls still sitting in the living room before those incredible eyes settled on her again. "Is this your apartment, ma’am?"

She stifled a groan. Even his voice was sexy as sin. "Yes."

"We got a complaint about the noise you and your friends were making."

Julie automatically opened her mouth to apologize, only to close it again as the obvious suddenly struck her. God, she was slow sometimes. This mouthwatering specimen of a man wasn’t a real cop; he must be a male stripper her friends had hired for her birthday. And if he looked even half as good naked as he did in that uniform, then she was in for a real show. Her friends were the best!

She glanced at the other girls over her shoulder and gave them a wink before turning back to him. Her lips curved into a sexy smile. "And you’re here to arrest me, right?" she teased. "Or maybe you’d rather give me a birthday spanking instead?"

He lifted a brow, clearly caught off guard by the suggestion.

Julie was a little surprised by it herself. So much for not being able to ask a guy she’d just met for a spanking. She wasn’t usually quite so bold. Then again, she was already on her second margarita. Not that she was tipsy or anything. She was just feeling a little naughty. And if she couldn’t be naughty on her birthday, when could she be naughty?

When he didn’t answer, she gave him a pout. "No? And one of my friends just gave me the cutest heart-shaped paddle, too." She shrugged. "Maybe later then. I’d much rather see you strip anyway."

His brows drew together. "Strip?"

Damn, he was really good at staying in character. She nodded. "Yeah, you know, take off your clothes. Though I wouldn’t do it out in the hallway if I were you. Not unless you want my neighbors to really call the cops."

When he didn’t move, she reached out and grabbed the front of his belt to give it a tug. He didn’t resist, but let her pull him into the entryway. As much as she would have liked to keep her hand right where it was, maybe even move it a little lower, she forced herself to release him. She should probably let him start dancing before she got too familiar. She waited, expecting him to make suggestive little moves with his hips and unbutton his shirt, but he only continued to regard her with that same authoritative expression on his face. Sheesh, this guy was seriously into his role.

Julie took a step closer to him. He was taller than she was by almost a foot and she had to tilt her chin to look up at him. Up close like this, she could see light flecks of green in his golden eyes.

"You’re really good, you know that? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a real cop." She circled him slowly, running her hand up his arm and over his shoulder, then across his back. "The uniform looks real, that’s for sure." She let her fingers trail over his opposite shoulder and down his other arm, her gaze going to the gun in the holster at his hip as she walked around to stand in front of him again. "So does the gun. And the handcuffs." She ran a finger over the badge on his chest. "And that badge is the best I’ve ever seen."
As she studied the radio clipped to his left shoulder, she realized it looked real, too. She didn’t know male strippers wore such authentic getups. She was about to say as much to him when the radio suddenly hissed.

"All units in the vicinity of Bayview, we have a 2-11 in progress…"

She frowned. Bayview was a neighborhood in the southern part of the city, across town from where she lived in the Lower Pacific Heights section of San Francisco. Oh…crap. This guy wasn’t a stripper. He was a real cop! She jerked her head up to look at him, her eyes wide.

A slow smile curved his mouth as he folded his arms across his broad chest. "That’s right, ma’am. The uniform is real. The gun is real. The handcuffs are real. The badge is real. And you," he added meaningfully, "are in real trouble."

Watch the Trailer!

Buy it from Ellora's Cave!

Happy Reading!


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


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