COYOTE GORGOUS is out for 99 cents! - by Vijaya Schartz

COYOTE GORGEOUS - by Vijaya Schartz
Paranormal Romance, Shapeshifter novella

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 awakens 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 as 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. She 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 reached 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 could indicate either. Madison had never made the connection between the jackal and the coyote. In this representation, they looked identical.

More sculptures crowded the concrete slab inside the tent, all stylized, teaming with life, strikingly beautiful and awe-inspiring, with bright enamel colors.

* * *

Something growled behind Madison. She whirled about, holding the 9mm .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 finger 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. Don't 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."


"Phenomenal world building, characters the readers care about, and an intriguing mystery... COYOTE GORGEOUS has all the elements one expects from a Vijaya Schartz story! Easily recommended!" - 4.5 shamrocks - Debbie CK2sKwipsandKritique

"So many times my theory of who done it was thwarted and yet I was thrilled to stay on the edge of my seat until the very last word just to find out." Five stars - Book Junkie Reviews

"...excellent characters... well written. Fascinated about the subject matter and the legends..." Five hearts - Romance Book Scene

Vijaya Schartz

Blasters, Guns, Swords, Romance with a kick

Vijaya's books at

Vijaya's eBooks at ARe:

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A Noble Place released!

A Noble Place by Anne Brear

A Noble Place is set mostly in Berrima and surrounding district of the Southern Highlands of New South Wales.

Australia 1850. Phillippa Noble, strong minded, spirited and adventurous, urges and encourages her
parents and her twin to emigrate to the distant land of Australia to begin again. In a new country they can
put their tainted past behind them, and Pippa can forget the unrequited love she felt for a distant cousin.
Pippa blossoms in the new country and is determined that their horse stud will be the finest in the land.
However, circumstances ensure that not all is golden. For every success, she has to bear up under the
challenges of bushfire, death, the return of an old love and danger on the goldfields. Her strength is tested
as she tries to find the right path to happiness, but it is the near loss of her dearest friend that makes her
realise true contentment rests within her grasp and she must not let it go.

The sharp scent of eucalyptus permeated the air and Pippa sniffed deeply, wondrously. At intervals, trees
thick with blooms of yellow, which she knew to be called wattles, punctuated the grey-green landscape and
gum trees let their little blooms of red dance in the breeze. She jerked suddenly as a low branch jagged at
her skirt. Her father helped to extricate the material and when her petticoat's lace hem tore, she cared little. Nothing and no one could spoil this day.
Gerald grimaced at the ruined fabric. "˜You should not have come, my dear."
"˜Nonsense, Father." Pippa grinned. "A little hardship strengthens character."
"Mr Noble." Robson gestured to a large eucalyptus trunk. The surveyor's initials were cut deep into the bark.
Gerald consulted his maps. "This ridge ends another ten yards further on."
Pippa hurried the remaining distance, nearly tripping in her haste. She stepped beyond a large tree and
stopped. Below, bathed in golden glory, lay their valley. Tingles of excitement mixed with reverent joy
sucked her breath away. She scanned the horizon of rugged hills and then gazed down at the inviting valley. It was everything she'd dreamed of and more because it was real. "It's perfect."
"How in God's name are we to get down there with the wagon?" Robson mumbled, breaking her spell of
wonder. He walked closer to the edge and peered down at the jagged outcrops of rocks and boulders that
broke up the density of the trees.
Gerald took off his hat and wiped his sweating forehead with a handkerchief. "Maybe further along there is
an easier route down."
They walked on for another hundred yards before finding another tree with the surveyor's initials marked in it
and also an arrow scratched next to them. Robson pointed to a gentler slope and a roughly cut track
snaking through the trees and scrub. "If the surveyor went down there, then that must be the easiest way."
He frowned. "I wonder if he took transports."
"Likely packhorses." Gerald studied his maps again.
Pippa walked to the edge of the slope. She paused to gauge the steepness and then reached for a nearby
sapling to keep her steady as she edged her way down.
Her father's shout made her stop and glance back. "It's all right, Father. Hold on to the trees."
Robson and Gerald hurried towards her and gingerly made their way down to her side. Gerald gripped her
arm. "You are too headstrong. It was a foolish thing to do."
She tossed her head. "I wasn't going to be left behind."
"You'll be the death of me, girl," Gerald panted and wiped his forehead again.
As they concentrated on getting safely to the bottom, the sounds of the bush intensified. An unseen bird
made the sound of a whiplash cutting the air, flies buzzed, twigs snapped underfoot and small lizards
slithered over rocks.
The track brought them out on the left side of the valley. At the bottom, the trees and scrub thinned out to
grassy plains. Emerging out of the shade, the heat intensified. Pippa wished she had brought her parasol
with her, but had left it in the gig so she could hold her skirts up with both hands. Sweat trickled inside her
collar and dampened her bonnet. She licked her dry lips. "Is there water close by?"
"Here, miss, I have water with me." Robson handed her a leather-bound canteen.
"Thank you." She stopped to drink and chuckled as the cool and pleasant water trickled down her chin.
Drinking from a canteen was an art she had not yet mastered.
"Do you see that thin line of gum trees in the middle over there?" Robson pointed in front of them.
Pippa studied the ragged thin line and nodded.
"Those trees edge the creek bank." He turned to Gerald. "Do you see that flat rise to the right of the creek
bend, Mr Noble?"
"Aye, lad, I do."
Robson smiled. "I think it would make an ideal homestead site."
Gerald slapped Robson on the shoulder. "I think you may be right, my man."
Pippa hesitated as the two men walked on. She slowly turned a full circle, taking in the broad sweep of the
valley. Acres of waist-high brown grass rippled in the infinite breeze like a long slow wave on a lazy sea.
She strolled on, enjoying the feeling of walking on her own land. She now understood the power it gave men
and why they did almost anything to acquire property. They broke their backs trying to keep it viable in the
hard times and, in good times, they looked to buy more.
The intensity of her feelings was frightening. Her land. Her future.

Anne Whitfield has written a wonderful saga of passion, promise and survival featuring a strong and valiant
heroine who is in the same league as Catherine Cookson's Tilly Trotter and Barbara Taylor Bradford's
Emma Harte in A Woman of Substance. Courageous and independent, Pippa Noble is a heroine readers
will admire, cheer for and hope to emulate.
With its spellbinding blend of romance, heartbreak, passion and drama, A Noble Place is the perfect book
to curl up with on a cold autumn night. Don't miss it!
Review by Julie for

Buy now for Kindle!

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A Cat Named Hercules by KC Kendricks

contemporary gay romance available now at

New in town, Shiloh Rudy joins a group of civic-minded volunteers to better acquaint himself with his recently adopted community. It’s a good way to make friends, network, and help make a difference, not to mention perhaps meet someone interesting—in a romantic sort of way. The one thing Shiloh didn’t expect was a love to rival all others to come with four white paws.

Gale Widmyer is on his feet and moving forward after piecing his life back together following a series of wrong choices. The one bright spot in his existence, even in his darkest moments, was the fulfillment of his dream to become a veterinarian. Gale’s making good on a promise to himself when an abandoned kitten leads him to Shiloh Rudy and a chance at the happiness he never hoped to have.

Laying the cornerstone for a developing relationship comes easy for Shiloh and Gale. But the wounds of the past often remain unhealed at their deepest point. A few careless words erect a wall of silence between the two men, one Shiloh has to breach if he hopes to win Gale back. But it will take more than apologies to win Gale’s forgiveness and put old fears to rest. It’ll take a cat named Hercules...


…The abrupt weaning I understood, but the other? Who would do that to such a helpless creature? “Then I’m keeping him.”

“In that case, your kitten has fleas, ear mites, and a touch of conjunctivitis. He’s also under nourished and almost surely has worms.”

My heart pounded as I snatched the kitten from Galen’s hands and tucked him safely against my chest. “Is he going to die?”

Galen pushed his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head and grinned at me. I fell into his gorgeous hazel eyes as he stared into my sky blue orbs with open curiosity. Damn, the man had long eyelashes.

“He’ll be fine. Do you think we can finish our chores here this morning, or do we need to go straight to my clinic so I can treat him and fix you up with what you need?” He poked the kitten’s paw and those tiny, wicked claws popped out again. “You’re in for a real treat with this little guy.”

I’d go anywhere he asked me to go, but I didn’t want to appear too eager. “Oh? Why is that?”

“They call cats with these black and white markings a ‘tuxedo’ because, obviously, they look like they’re wearing one. This fellow has the added bonus of white ‘gloves.’ Tuxedos tend to have a lot of personality.” Galen squeezed my elbow. I thought his hand lingered a moment too long, but perhaps it was just wishful thinking.

“C’mon. I’ll tell the other work crew they’ll have to finish pulling up these bricks and we’ll go to the clinic.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you.”

I knew I was in two kinds of trouble when he nodded and grinned. “I’m afraid you will…”

ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-234-8
contemporary gay romance available now at

KC Kendricks
website at:



mailing list at:




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Good Bi Valentine, A Bisexy Erotic Comedy!

Just in time for V-day, I've got a new ebook on the market--a reissue, actually, of a work originally published as All in a Valentine Day's Work. It's back as GOOD BI VALENTINE, available pretty much anywhere you'd want to buy an ebook.

This is a story for all those readers who are saying (right now) "Oh GAWD, not another dumbass Valentine's story!" Believe it or not, Good Bi Valentine is NOT a romance. Nope. It's not. It's a satirical little sex romp, gently and self-reflexively spoofing corny porny 1980's "I'm here to fix your plumbing" videos.

And you know what? It's only $1.99.

Good Bi Valentine

By: Giselle Renarde
Published By: Excessica Publishing

Spend Valentine's Day with Lexi the Sexi Superintendent and her apartment building full of very naughty tenants.

Lexi the Sexi building superintendent (okay, assistant super) thinks she's taking Valentine's Day by storm. She doesn't do "romance" or "relationships." Casual sex with attractive tenants is more her style. After an exhausting porn-watching session with a cute guy in the building, the beautiful Mrs Suraj won't release her until those rusty pipes are fixed. The sexy super comes home to a pussycat pair of college friends desperate for someone to help them out with their Valentine gift to each other: homemade porn!

WARNINGS: This title contains m/f and f/f sex, mild BDSM, and graphic descriptions of cheesy 1980’s porn, including but not limited to fluorescent and animal print bikinis. Originally published as ‘All in a Valentine Day’s Work.’

Elio asked, “Would you videotape us?”

I nearly did an orange juice spit-take. “Videotape you? Doing what?”

This was such a sweet, shy couple. They couldn’t possibly be asking what I thought they were asking.

Natalie lifted a camcorder out of the mauve and dark purple backpack she’d brought into my apartment. “We tried to do it ourselves, but we ended up filming the wall and then the ceiling, and then the third time the whole thing was just a blurry shot of Elio’s butt. We can’t seem to get it right on our own. We just need someone to hold the camera and keep it on us.”

“And maybe get some close-up shots?” Elio added.

“You mean you want me to film you having sex?” I tried very hard to make it sound like I was only clarifying, not to criticizing.

The pair giggled and nodded in unison. Do they do everything in unison?

Kind of crazy that they’d ask some random person, but I liked the idea of spying on this pair through a camera lens. At the same time, I was about to drop dead from hunger and exhaustion. All I really wanted to do was fall into bed and crash.

“This is our Valentine’s Day gift to each other,” Natalie explained. “We’re making our own porn. That way neither of us has to feel like we’re being unfaithful if we watch it. Good idea, right?”

“But you don’t know me,” I found myself objecting. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable doing this with a friend, or at least somebody you’ve met more than once?”

“No,” they replied in unison.

Natalie continued, “That’s exactly why we’re asking you. We couldn’t have sex in front of someone we knew, but we don’t know you so we wouldn’t mind. Plus, we know how open-minded you are, so you wouldn’t laugh at us.”

Elio chimed in, “And you wouldn’t get turned on because you’re....”

Natalie stomped on Elio’s foot to keep him from saying anything too stupid.

“A lesbian?” I asked flatly.

Why did everybody think that? Was it my clothes, my hair, or my toolbox?


Get GOOD BI VALENTINE now! It's a cheapie at $1.99, and available from such e-tailers as:

eXcessica Publishing:

All Romance ebooks:



Rainbow Ebooks:

Amazon and Barnes & Noble always take a little longer to process, but Good Bi Valentine should be up at those retailers in a day or two.



Giselle Renarde

Canada just got hotter!

Visit me online

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New Release - CE6: Determined Lover by Zenobia Renquist

Determined Lover
Caveat Emptor, Book 6
by Zenobia Renquist

Changeling Press

Genre: Erotic Paranormal Romance, Vampire, Magic, Interracial

eBook ISBN: 978-1-60521-781-9
CP BIN: 05536-01773

Price: $3.99/US

Medusa and Darius have escaped with their lives, but to where? The location is an unknown, like their relationship. After nearly two hundred years apart, Darius is ready to move forward, but Medusa cannot reconcile her present self with the past she purposefully forgot. Medusa must decide if dealing with the pain of her past is a fair price for loving the man who would be her future.

Buy Now:

She narrowed her eyes on his face. “My pride is the problem, isn’t it? You liked me better when I was some mousy maid with no self-esteem.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. Everything about you says it.” She put her hands on her hips and gave him a superior smile. “I crushed that girl and drove her to the depths of my psyche so she could never bother me. I hid her so deep that I forgot you.”
Darius stiffened. A tic formed in his jaw, which he clenched.
“I swore to never let anyone have power over me ever again. Only one man can make me obey and only because his powers are greater than mine. That man is my sire, Theron. You aren’t him.”
She faced the door once more.
“You shared blood with me, Medusa. That is marriage to a vampire. Did you do it in the heat of the moment? Do you regret joining with me? Is the memory of me a burden to you?”
His questions hurt but he deserved an honest answer. She whispered, “Yes.”
“Which question are you answering?”
“All of them.” She pulled open the door, ready to walk out and never return.
She spoke the truth. Remembering Darius was bittersweet. She had regained a love she cherished above all else. With it had come the memories of her life as a servant and then as a madman’s whore. She didn’t want those memories. She’d fought against them and the darkness that threatened to swallow her all year long. The news of Darius’s appointment to mage king drove home how badly she was losing the battle with her past.
Admitting she had such a weakness only made her want to lash out. Hunting vampires gave her anger a direction that wasn’t Darius. The turmoil that raged inside her shouldn’t and wouldn’t spill onto him. His only crime was reappearing in her life.
“All of them.” He echoed her words in a deadpan voice.
“Yes, all of them. Goodbye.” She stepped over the threshold.
“I can undo it.”
She stopped and looked back at him. “You can undo what?”
“The bond between us. The blood we shared can be negated. I have that power. It’s an easy enough spell to break.”
Though he might not have meant it to be interpreted in such a way, all Medusa heard from him was that their love was easy to break. It wasn’t true. She wanted to yell her denials at him. Their love had endured nearly two centuries apart. That had to mean it was true.
All emotion left her face as she felt a familiar ice surrounding her heart. She nodded. “Do it, then.”
She left the house, closing the door behind her.
This was for the best. Darius shouldn’t be with her when she couldn’t give him all of herself. Loving him fully meant acknowledging a past she only wanted to forget.

Buy Now:

Zenobia Renquist
Discover Different and Unique Romance
Caveat Emptor Series - Follow three couples as they struggle with love during a vampire-mage war.

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Valentine Cowboys

Ranch hands Justus White and Dakota Washburn have known each other forever, or at least since fifth grade when Melody Zane, the coolest girl in school, gave them both valentines. That Valentines Day ended in a school yard fight, and a lifelong friendship. 12 years later, they now both live and work on the Maverick ranch and have vowed never to let a girl get between them again… Until they meet Melody in a bar, all grown up. Then they decide to preserve the friendship maybe the best thing to do is to keep her between them.
From the rear of the dimly lit bar, Dakota watched Justus standing close to Melody as she sipped on her beer—the beer Justus had bought her. She seemed to be drinking it in the most seductive way possible. How could Justus not see she was the same girl she had been way back then? She’d probably be happy to see them rolling around on the beer-splattered floor fighting over her while the rest of the folks in the bar cheered them on. She’d probably be wearing a big old grin the entire time, just like she’d done in fifth grade when she’d orchestrated their first and only fight.
Well he, for one, was not going to allow it to happen, no matter what Justus said or did. Scowling, Dakota walked back to the pool table. Justus glanced up, and must have caught on to his unhappiness from the expression on his face, because his smile disappeared.
Justus’s brows drew down in a frown as he looked at Dakota. He turned back to Melody and hooked a thumb in the direction of the restrooms. “Ah, Melody, I’ll be back in a sec. Okay?”
“Sure.” She smiled sweetly.
“Stop looking so pissed off.” Justus leaned close and hissed.
Dakota’s eyebrows shot up. “Then you stop acting as if she’s changed.”
“Whatever. Try and be nice while I’m gone.” Justus let out a huff of breath and pushed past Dakota, heading back to the bathrooms.
Whatever,” Dakota mimicked Justus after he’d walked away. That had to be the most annoying word in the English language, and the fact his best friend was saying it to him in such a nasty tone was proof that Melody was trouble. Nothing but trouble.
Luckily, Dakota was good at dealing with problems. Hell, he dealt with difficult issues all damn day, and sometimes all night, at the ranch. Compared to stubborn young bulls and a couple of hundred cows about to give birth, one stuck-up chick shouldn’t be too hard to handle.
Dakota made his way back to where he’d left his beer on the table and picked the mug up. Taking a swallow, he leaned against the pool table again—these new going-out boots weren’t broken in yet and they were starting to pinch.
“So, you’re back and looking for work.” They’d covered this topic already, but Dakota enjoyed it so much the first time, he decided to revisit the subject.
“You don’t like me very much, do you, Dakota?”
“Nope.” He shook his head and sipped at his beer.
She laughed. “Well at least you’re honest about it.”
“I’m always honest, which is more than you were when you invited Justus and I to fight over you in front of the whole fifth grade.”
“First of all, I can’t believe you’re actually still upset over something that happened in fifth grade. And second, I was being honest back then. I really didn’t know which one of you I liked best.”
Dakota’s brows shot up. “So you thought you’d see which one of us could beat the crap out of the other? Then what? You’d suddenly like the winner best? Nice.”
“No.” Her dark brows knit in a frown. “I really wanted to kiss you both. You two are the ones who started fighting. I never wanted that.”
“Bullshit. You smiled through the whole thing.” He knocked the brim of his hat back a bit so he could better glare at her.
“Because I couldn’t believe you both liked me enough to fight over me.” She put her mug down on the table with a splash and planted her fists on her hips.
“You’re right, fifth grade is long gone. That shit doesn’t matter now.” He made direct eye contact with her to make sure she knew he was serious. “But I’m telling you one thing—Justus and I are closer than brothers now. We’re not ten years old any more and we sure as hell ain’t gonna be fighting over you again. So if you’ve got any ideas in your pretty little head about pitting us against each other in some sort of competition for you, you can just forget about it.”
Movement caught his eye and he turned to see Justus standing nearby, watching them. Dakota spun to face him, silently daring him to contradict what he’d said.
“Dakota’s right, Melody. He and I aren’t going to be fighting over anything.” Justus swung his glance from Melody to Dakota. “But I’m sure Melody has more weighing on her mind right now. Her interview for one thing. She won’t have time to be worrying about us. Right?” He shot her a look.

Download eBook now at:
Ravenous Romance (in PDF, PRC for Kindle or ePub for Nook & iBooks)
All Romance eBooks (ARe) in multiple formats
Bookstrand (multiple formats)

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Veggie Love

You won't see this ad during the Super Bowl game on Sunday. It was banned for being too sexy!

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Secret Confessions: 36 Erotic Encounters

Some people really love letter-style erotic confessions... and some people really hate them.

You know the kind of short stories I mean? They tend to be quickie down and dirty sex stories told in the first person. These "letters" focus on what happened, who touched what and where--wham, bam, thank you ma'am. Maybe they're kinky. Maybe they involve sex between people who shouldn't be having sex together. Maybe they're about a first time, a first experience with a certain type of sex act. Maybe they're about things that seem scary or squicky or gross until you give them a go.

There are entire magazines devoted to this kind of sex story, the erotic letter, and a lot of readers think they're great. And other readers can't stand them, think they're too short, not enough character development, they're all about sex--too much sex!

Well, if you hate erotic letters, please DO NOT BUY my new release, Secret Confessions: 36 Erotic Encounters. Why? Because it's a book entirely devoted to erotic letters. 36 of them, to be exact.

And if you love erotic letters? Hehe... then do I have a book for you!


No naughty encounter is ever complete until you tell somebody about it. And who doesn’t feel a tingle while reading a naughty story and wondering, “Is this true? Did that really happen?”

In this collection, you’ll find a whopping 36 erotic stories, as explicit as they are wicked! These confessions involve lesbian encounters, exhibitionism, porn appreciation, voyeurism, masturbation and self-love, cheating and deception, threesomes, group sex, sploshing, ice play, public sex, fisting, sex with a loving partner, female fantasies, rimming, anal play, stranger sex, double penetration, spanking, insertions, bondage, and so much more!


I’m sleeping with a married man. There. I had to get that off my chest.

You’ll understand, I’m sure, if I don’t tell you his name. After all, he could be someone you know. Or you may know his wife or his kids. I wouldn’t want word to get back to them. And just because he’s cheating doesn’t mean he’s a bad man. He isn’t bad, he simply has needs. We all do.

So, what’s it like? Well, last Saturday was a perfect example. At 5:30 in the morning, I heard his key in my door. That smooth metallic noise wakes me every time. It’s better than an alarm clock. I’d been looking forward to seeing him all week. I look forward to it every week.

He tells his wife he likes to jog early in the morning, before pollution envelops the city. He tells her he enjoys his run better when there are fewer people on the sidewalks, and when the sun hasn’t yet risen. These are only half-truths, because he actually does jog all the way from his house to mine. I doubt if his wife even notices anymore when he rolls out of bed before dawn. I doubt if she ever notices him at all. That’s fine. I’ve taken it upon myself to notice him. In fact, I could notice him all day and all night, if I ever had the opportunity.

I emerged from the depths of slumber as he kicked off his shoes in my front hall. I scrambled out of bed and headed straight for the bathroom. When you only get to see your lover once a week, you always want to look and smell and taste perfect. And morning breath is a major turn-off. When I switched off the bathroom light, my eyes couldn’t adjust fast enough to the darkness of my bedroom.

I asked, “Where are you?” as I walked straight into him. Ouch. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

He concurred with his standard stand-by, “Likewise.”

“All week I’ve been waking up and asking myself, ‘Is it Saturday yet…?’”

That’s all I managed to say before he kissed me. An entire week’s worth of kisses in less than one minute.

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Texas Two-Step: Cowboy Shuffle
Cat Johnson

What’s a cowboy to do?
When the woman he wants, wants nothing to do with him, Shooter Welles pretends to be someone else. That’s how he finds himself hiding behind a fake profile on an online matchmaking site to woo the girl of his dreams—literally. Erotic, hot and sticky dreams that make him see his best friend’s sister, Ellen, in a whole new light.
Ellen Griffin wants a steady man in her life, but she’s had enough of both rodeo cowboys and doctors. Unfortunately since she’s a busy nurse and a barrel racer, those are the only men she’s around, until she meets a mysterious guy online.
Can this seemingly perfect stranger be the perfect man for her? And what will happen when he reveals his true identity?

“Take off that big-ass showy buckle of yours so I can finally see what’s behind it.”
The sound of her soft, husky voice in combination with the feel of her hands on the very buckle she spoke of sent a thrill straight through him. Particularly through the part of his anatomy located just below his belt.
Shooter Welles swallowed hard. He glanced down at the sky-blue eyes gazing up into his, and then lower at the swell of the tops of her breasts showing above the neckline of her low-cut T-shirt. He tried to yank his gaze up and away from that danger zone. This was Ellen Griffin—the sister of his best friend Wes—and there was no way he should be thinking about doing what his cock, already hard enough to drive nails, was already anticipating.
“Ellen—” Her name came out sounding like a plea, though he wasn’t sure if he was begging her to stop, or to keep going.
“Come on. You know you want to.” She practically purred it in a tone he’d never heard come out of her in all the years they’d known each other. Well, perhaps when she spoke to her horse before a barrel racing competition, but certainly never when she talked to him. Usually Shooter got the annoyed Ellen voice, not the soft, sweet and totally sexy one. He wasn’t sure he could resist it, or her.
Fuck it. Why even try?
“Hell yeah, I want to.” He scooped her into his arms as she squealed in surprise.
He carried her from the living room of the apartment she shared with Wes, directly into her bedroom, angling both their bodies sideways through the narrow doorway just like a groom carries his bride.
And why the hell were thoughts even remotely related to marriage crossing his mind at a time like this? Now, when he was about to take her every way he could imagine, plus maybe a few ways he hadn’t even thought of yet.
Putting her down next to the bed, he squelched the bride-and-groom image right quick and concentrated on planning how best to strip her for the quickest access to the parts of her he’d never even dreamed he’d ever get to see. But before he could get to work on Ellen, she was making short work of him, conquering his buckle quick as a wink. With the two ends of the heavy leather and brass belt hanging open wide, she unfastened his jeans, and then her hands were upon him. With her help, his hard-on sprang free of his boxer briefs.
“Mm. I’ve waited a long time to do this.” She glanced down while stroking him.
Shooter shuddered at the sensation of her hand grasping his cock. They’d both been waiting a long time for this. In spite of the fact she was Wes’s sister, and that she had an attitude at times that could put a man in his place with a single glare, she was still all woman and Shooter had never failed to notice that.
He watched in fascination as she dropped to sit on the edge of the mattress, pulled him closer to her and slid his cock, ramrod straight and hard, between her lips. Glancing over at the mirror above the dresser, he saw their reflection. It was a tantalizing image, her golden head bouncing over his erection. His suntanned arms braced on her shoulders as she worked him hard. He felt the resulting tingling shoot from his balls, straight up his spine.
Trembling and trying to hang on just a little bit longer, he grabbed her head to hold her still before it was too late. She resisted, sucking harder, and then it was too late. He shot off into her mouth after what felt like barely a minute.
Ellen raised golden brows above those so-blue eyes as she pulled back and looked up. “Well, now I know why they call you Shooter.”
Shooter woke with a start, tangled in the sheets in his own bed. The boxer shorts he’d fallen asleep in were warm and wet, soaked through and clinging to his rapidly deflating hard-on.
What the fuck? He pressed his head back against the pillow and scrubbed his hands over his face.
Why was he dreaming about having sex with Ellen? More importantly, since it was his dream, why the hell had his own subconscious made him perform so badly?

Don’t miss Texas Two-Step (the story that leads into Cowboy Shuffle)

An All Romance eBooks Exclusive (Not available at Amazon or BN)

REVIEW: “…guaranteed to put a smile on your face and send shivers down your spine.” AJ, BlackRaven’s Reviews


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Today is the release date for my latest Regency comedy novella, An Inheritance for the Birds, the next entry in The Wild Rose Press's Love Letters series. All the stories start with a letter that changes the hero's and heroine's lives. Mine is a letter about an inheritance, but there's a catch...

Available at The Wild Rose Press and Amazon.


Make the ducks happy and win an estate!

Mr. Christopher "Kit" Winnington can't believe the letter from his late great-aunt's solicitor. In order to inherit her estate, he must win a contest against her companion, Miss Angela Stratton. Whoever makes his great-aunt's pet ducks happy wins.

A contest: What a cork-brained idea. This Miss Stratton is probably a sly spinster who camouflaged her grasping nature from his good-natured relative. There is no way he will let the estate go to a usurper.

Angela never expected her former employer to name her in her will. Most likely, this Mr. Winnington is a trumped-up jackanapes who expects her to give up without a fight. Well, she is made of sterner stuff.

The ducks quack in avian bliss while Kit and Angela dance a duet of desire as they do their utmost to make the ducks--and themselves--happy.

Yawning, he shut the door behind him. Enough ducks and prickly ladies for one day. After dropping his satchel by the bed, he dragged off his clothes and draped them over the chair back. He dug a nightshirt from the valise and donned the garment before he blew out both candles.

Bates had already drawn back the bedclothes. The counterpane was soft under Kit's palm, and covered a featherbed. He grinned. By any chance, had they used the down from the pet ducks to stuff the mattress and pillows?

After tying the bed curtains back, he settled into the soft cocoon and laced his fingers behind his head. Tomorrow, he would have it out with Miss Stratton about the steward's residence, but that was tomorrow. He fluffed up his pillow and turned onto his side…


A bundle of flapping, squawking feathers exploded from the depths of the covers and attacked him. Throwing his arms over his head for protection, Kit fell out of bed. He scrambled to his feet and bolted for the door, the thrashing, quacking explosion battering him. A serrated knife edge scraped over his upper arm. "Ow!" Batting at the avian attacker with one hand, he groped for the latch with the other.

The door swung open. Miss Stratton, her candle flame flickering, dashed into the chamber. "Esmeralda, you stop that right now!"

The feathered windstorm quacked once more and, in a graceful arc, fluttered to the floor.

Kit lowered his arms and gave a mental groan. A duck. He should have known.

Thank you all,
Linda Banche
Welcome to My World of Historical Hilarity!

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